Thursday, April 27, 2006

The Six to Serenity Now

After spending Tuesday evening in a Luxury Box at Yankee Stadium drinking canned beer and bullshiting about every possible sports stat in modern time, last night was quite the change of venue. It was that time again. That special time that happens about every 6 weeks, if I can make it that long. It was time to head to the East Village to that special little oasis that lets me forget that I work 30 blocks north, in a glass and metal monstrosity where phone calls and emails occur at an alarming rate. It was time for…wait for it…wait for it…t was time to get a hair cut.

I was cutting it close as I flew out of work and headed to Grand Central to jump on the 6 train down to Astor Place. I hate to be late, whether it’s for a hair cut or just meeting a friend for drinks. (Note to self, put tardiness on my dislikes list) I feel like there is a 5 minute bumper zone here in the city as most people have to rely on public transportation. This is a far cry from the “I’ll be there in 25 minutes,” which really means 45 minutes in LA’s native tongue.

As I waltzed in a just few minutes late the place as bumping. It has such a good vibe and positive aura that just seems to fill the room from floor to the tin ceiling. The dynamic of the people occupying my little safe haven is always really interesting. Most of the stylists have crazy hair and attire that is dripping in personal style. The funny part is while these purple Mohawk masters of the scissors do what they do, they’re client’s are usually very clean cut and look like they’re imports into the neighborhood just as I am…

As I sat patiently waiting for my guy, the owner, to finish up with his current client, I noticed he didn’t look too far into the process. I’m mean I’m no hair guru but when over heard him say “so what are doing here” as he played with the guys hair assessing his work load and clearing his canvas. At that time the always very polite and attractive dark skinned beauty from behind the counter came over and asked what my name was…

Apparently the gentleman who was just in the stages of “um, yeah just take it up a little in the back” slid into my appointment by answering yes to “hi, are you Just Some Guy” and “are you hear for Nelson?” That bastard! But as I mentioned this place is so calm and comforting, I shrugged it off and headed to the deli on the corner for a cup of coffee and the post. In a city that is so damn full of hustle and bustle there was no way I was going to pull my hair out over something like this…

Thanks for listening

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Mental or Mattel?

My post yesterday must have rung loudly with the sounds of loneliness or desperation much louder than I thought it did because it was like a game show all afternoon trying to find yours truly a special little lady. I mean don’t get me wrong, I’m all for a little help, I’d be a fool not to.

I did have an interesting thought on my way to work. It may be a little too much “A Brave New World” and definitely a little too much adolescent fun, but I’ve got an idea. What if dating and finding the one that sets your heart on fire was like play Mr. Potato Head, or Ms. Potato Head in my case?

I mean outside of her round figure that I’m sure a couple a sessions of cardio a week could help transform, I think it’s one hell of an idea. I have spoken in a past post about the little oddities and blemishes that we usually overtly overlook because the person they belong to is that great. Well forget that with this new means of dating. Good bye, good bye and hello you sexy spud!

But what an idea? Her eyes aren’t exactly what I’m looking for and I think those frames a bit outdated. No problem, I’ll just go into my small plastic box of parts and see what we can find. After finding a pair of beautiful blue eyes and opting for her to get lasic I ditch the frames…

Ok, this does sound a little creepy, a bit weird science, I know. I’m just saying that wouldn’t it be fun? I know I have had past girlfriends as well as girls who are friends that I would love to have as parts in my plastic box. If I could grab the heart of my first girlfriend, way back in 8th grade who I’m still very close with to this day, I’d do it without even thinking. Then I’d move on to the intelligence and ability to adapt to any situation from Five Stars to Dive Bars the my best girl friend in college had and still has to this day…

Hell, I haven’t even gotten to the body and lord knows that could take more time, space, adjectives, and a lot more thought. I know this is unrealistic, but in a way isn’t this what we do while we date? Isn’t dating like a big experiment or a big process of elimination? We move from one person to the next, finding what we like and what we don’t like only hoping that our conclusion is a mix of the good, a dab of the bad, and just feels right…

Alright now that I’ve played Dr. Frankenstein and Dr. Phil in matter of paragraphs I better quit while I’m ‘Potato Head.’

Thanks for listening

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

No Hair Below My Adam's Apple

Unfortunately this story is far less dramatic than the title would lead it to be. Call me the New York Post, but great headlines grab readers. I mean, it’s no “Wacko On His Backo” but you’re still reading aren’t you?

The focus group was much more normal and legit than I though it would be. I had planned on pages and pages of hilarity from the mere chance that the actual focus group could live up to the persona of the woman who recruited me. Sadly it was not.

But now down to the nitty gritty I’ve left running around my head this past week, instead of my pages., It’s my love life, or lack there of, that will be the object of humor seeing as though my “Male Grooming” Focus group proved to be nothing more than the easiest $75 I’ve ever made.

The summer is only six weeks away and that means two different, yet equally important birthdays are soon upon us. Mine is one of them, where I will have to change the description of this blog to a 25 year olds’ battles of the Big Apple. The second is more important and should be and probably will merit a much more grand celebration. On June 28th, 2006 I will raise a glass (shot, pint, wine or martini) in the air as I mark the completion of my second year in New York City.

I don’t know any other city or state that people remember the exact move date like people do with New York. If you ask most, especially those who were not raised, grew up, or went to school in the tri-state area, more times than not they will be able to tell you the exact date they embarked on the safari that is this concrete island.

A lot has changed in the time I’ve spent here in New York. I have changed in every way imaginable but hope that my core, my values, the meat and potatos that make me, me are still strong and as constant as they always have been. Sadly there is one element of my life that is the exact same…It is the same now as it was when I arrived, it is the same today as it was yesterday and the day before and the day before that and so on…I’m still single.

Now, in the grand scheme of things, that’s completely fine by me. Had you asked me two years ago if I would be single, I would have probably have not only said yes, but bet large sums of money on the fact that I would be. It has been for most of my adult life part of what makes me ‘Just Some Guy.’

However, as general as that pseudo name may be, I feel that I’m anything but that…I don’t think I’m one archetype or one male lead seen on a screen before now. That wouldn’t be any fun if we all fell into molds of the characters we so closely relate to on TV and in Film. We’d know how our story ended. We’d know that we end up with Carrie, or that we would confess our love to Sally on New Year’s Eve. As frustrating as falling for the wrong girls who never seem to give me a chance to fail or succeed, over and over again, I can honestly say that I’m not ready to jump to the last page of this book…not yet.

Thanks for listening

Monday, April 24, 2006

Dont' Call It A Comeback!

For some reason, I’ve found the writing is a lot like going to the gym. Well, sort of…Once you get in a routine, getting your butt to the gym every day or every other day, it’s easy. It’s easy because it you just do it. But on the flip side, skip a day and it’s a lot easier to skip the next day, and so on and so on…

And just like that, “I can do anything” good feeling I get after a great work out, I get that same type of rush after writing a post I’m proud of…but as you can tell I have lost that loving feeling of late. Well not anymore, I’m back baby!

I wish I would have had a more eventful weekend to write about, but with weather that looked a scene out of A Perfect Storm, it was pretty damn low key. After a work week that consisting of all things, a “Department Re-Organization” a weekend of quality couch time was well needed and desired.

I guest bartended on Friday night at my local watering hole, Third and Long. The happy hour crowd came a little later than expected and left a little earlier than desired. That being said it wasn’t a very busy evening. In what was the first day of a wet weekend, I’m using that for the reason behind a weak showing from my friends.

Saturday was much like Friday night, very slow and very wet. I don’t think there are any two qualities that make for a better nap so that’s just what I did. I did however muster up enough energy to get my butt back to the gym. I’d be lying if I didn’t say my sudden motivation comes from the fact that I’m headed back to Arizona, the land of the beautiful and always in shape, in just a few weeks.

I have a Focus Group this evening that is centered around Shaving, so I’m plan on having plenty of material for tomorrow’s post.

Thanks for listening

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

The Griswold's Easter Vacation

Sorry about the delay in the Holiday wrap up. I was up at 4am yesterday morning to catch an early morning flight back to NYC from my parents place down in Boca Vista. Well that’s not true, they’re not living in Boca Vista quite yet.

The weekend actually started late Thursday afternoon as my dad picked me up from the airport. He has for as long as I can remember driven Crown Victoria’s. If your not to familiar with this model, think ‘squad car’ from any TV police drama. But this captain is trading in this cruiser for a new ship, a Nissan Quest was now his means of transportation. It’s a bit soccer mom for my taste but it’s got every bell and whistle you could imagine. The interior looks like it was designed by the people from The Container Store, little compartments everywhere…

We met my mom and younger brother at a great place on the water for dinner. The weather was just damn near perfect! The sun on your face while drinking a Corona with your family in movie set like weather…does it get much better than that? We ordered some drinks and some appetizers to get the evening started but didn’t even look at entrees for another 30 minutes. I think that’s the difference between just eating dinner and truly enjoying the company of the people sitting around you! All told dinner was a few hours long and probably a few hundred dollars, but I was with the family and didn’t want to be anywhere else.

Now Friday, Friday morning no less, was when the real madness started. I came down stairs around 9, grabbed a cup of coffee and joined my parents in the living room while they read the paper. The get the local Boca Vista paper that reads from cover to cover in about 3.5 minutes as well as the NY Times delivered everyday. After reading a just a few sections I hopped in the shower and heading to my dad’s office for a conference call of all things. It was the one work related thing I would have to think about for the next few days so I didn’t mind.

So as I’m sitting in my dad’s office, head set on, listening and chiming in when necessary with everyone on the call, I hear a ruckus come from the living room. I hear my brother yell, then a few minutes later my mom starts showing off her reach of her voice too. I started to get up to see why in the hell they’ve waited until I was on a work related call to show off their craziness but it soon stopped. As the phone call seemed to be wrapping up I started to hear the weird noises from the rest of the house again, only now my dad was in the mix too. At this point it wasn’t just screams but bangs, booms, and everything in between.

I opened the door to the office and shot my dirtiest look towards my mom and brother who were lucky enough to be the only two in my direct sight! The roar was over for a minute and I was back in the office only to hear it back again just a few minutes later. Thankfully, only seconds later everyone on the call said their good byes and I could now go play Perry Mason in the rest of the house.

So as the story goes, my brother who had just recently woke up was sitting on the couch, watching TV as a bird strolled across the tile floor directly in front of him. He, not sure if he was completely awake yet, got up to see if he was in fact seeing what he thought he was seeing. As he did, this large black crow took off, circling the room with a not a fear in the world. The 22 foot ceilings made this little guy seem like he was as home. Thankfully, a combination of my mom swinging a broom, my brother opening up every window in the house and my dad barking orders the crow flew to its freedom though an upstairs window. Although not before my dad yelled, “holy shit, there’s bird shit on the wall!” That’s right just another relaxing day in Boca Vista!

More to come soon, I promise!

Thanks for listening.

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

Run Of The Mill Tuesday Night

After darting out of the office around 4pm for yet another network party with one of my favorite coworkers, I just knew it was going to be a good night. After all, good nights start by getting out of the office early, right? Last night’s festivities were held at the Theatre at Madison Square Garden. There were men and women of all seniority levels, blue haired businessmen in double breasted suits to still wet behind the ear entry level post college grads. I think it’s that dynamic that makes these events so worth while. Well, that and the open bar!

After a small cocktail hour and an army of banquet servers carrying everything that is mini around asking every passer by if they’d like a ‘crab stuffed red pepper’ it was time for the presentation. Crowds of people started filing into the theatre, some with drinks, some with notepads, and 4 with crutches. (Seriously, 4 people with crutches, I thought I was at a ski lodge).

Unfortunately, I had to depart this event a little earlier than I would have like to. After all, tonight was double booked…That never happens. I had to get my butt downtown to see friends of mine at a charity event. As I made my way out of the theatre I noticed crowds, and I mean crowds of people everywhere. As it was just a few minutes before 7pm, the crowds were trying to get in as I was trying to get out. The exit of the theatre was located directly next to the entreance into the Arena at Madison Square Gardens. The New York Rangers were getting ready to drop the puck. So as I noticed I was already going to be few minutes late and there were a million foam fingers in my way I just put my head down and started to body check anyone who got in my way!

After frantically walking down 7th avenue I was excited to see my friends as I hadn’t seen a few of them in what seemed like, and probably had been months. It was still light out and just enough of a breeze to keep me from not sweating through my suit. I was told there would be a large number of single ladies at the event so dripping wet was not really the look I was going for tonight!

I found the place pretty easily, my roommate waiting outside for me. We walked in, paid our $40 for the two hour open bar and started searching for my friends. Well, we went to the bar first as we had already lost 13 minutes of open bar time. I saw a girlfriend of mine and the others strolled in a few minutes later.

One of the few things I don’t like about my baby, New York City is that it’s so big and so fast moving that it seems nearly impossible to ever see your good friends. You really have to make the effort, set plans, and carry them out in order to see the people you really want to see. And I really wanted to see these people. The best part was that my group of friends was ‘plus one’ tonight. Another girlfriend of mine, who I hadn’t seen in a very long time was visiting and made the trip out.

There’s nothing like seeing those people you never really knew that well, but always had great conversation with…she was one of those. She was in the city on work and looked great…She was in from LA and had only been to the city once before so it was great to sit around and talk about how different the two superpowers of the country are…God knows you could have the discussion all night long and we just about did! By the time our “discussion” was over I think the final score was LAX 6 – JFK 3,459. A close match for sure!

Thanks for listening

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Ripped: The Sequel

That’s right I went back for more. Even though it took me three days, post class, to be able to handle most menial tasks like washing my hair or tying my shoes, I wanted more…

As most people will admit the toughest part about going to the gym is, going to the gym. Once you’ve got your clothes on, your motivation starts to rise…The self portrait in your mind starts to take the form you wish it appeared outside of your mind. Now that spring has landed in the city, it makes the days so much longer and more enjoyable. No longer is the sun done for the day at 5pm.

The sun still shining bright after leaving work at 7pm just helps keep that butt off the couch. Not to mention it’s those same long days that remind us that this brisk cool air will soon be replaced by the warmth, humidity, and The Hamptons (So I hear) that make up a summer in New York City.

As I walked into the studio, I acted as if I had done it a million times before. Should there be ‘Ripped’ virgins (Oh, that doesn’t sound very pleasant) in the class, I wasn’t going to let them know I wasn’t a pro. After all, my muscles had stopped twitching and my walk had become normal again since last week’s class.

As I scoped out my classmates and found my little spot that would soon turn into a sweaty hell, I noticed no knock outs. Which was a good thing, because that’s exactly what would happen to me if there were, there are mirrors everywhere…Even though it wasn’t the best looking class I did notice something different from the previous week. Another dude!

Who was this guy and why was he in my class? There goes the chance of me taking the weights down a notch from week one. This would be like that terrible show on the ESPN, ‘Worlds Strongest Man’ competition. A duel! And just as I suspected, like some stupid jungle animal I would grunt, moan, and elevate my chest to its fullest throughout the class.

The one and only familiar face was that of the, once again, tightly clothed, sports bra wearing, cute little jacket around her waist, positive minded, fist pumping instructor. Her count downs were long and drawn out and often times out of order. After starting at 15, counting down, how does she always seem to end up at 20? She lifts as we do, but she smiles and yells at the same time. I can only think “is this woman fucking sick? What’s wrong with her? Does she like actually enjoy this feeling?” I’m ready to jump out the one opened window.

But much like the first class I made it through and I am almost unable to type this post. With that being said, I’m going to try and continue this healthy streak and have a banana for breakfast. (But I really want a muffin, AKA cake you can eat for breakfast).

Thanks for listening

Monday, April 10, 2006

Living La Vita Loco

In a weekend that would have most hanging from the rafters and screaming in pure enjoyment because of unsafe levels of craziness and enjoyment I will give you brief recap. However, before
I do I have to say this is the kind of Spring Break-like weekend MTV turns into a reality TV show. Now, if you don’t think you have the stomach to read the debauchery I urge you to stop reading now because there is really no turning back.

So in no particular order here are the events that made up my weekend:

*A rainy, chilly Saturday with the 5 hours of coverage from the Master’s in Augusta, GA.
*A bank that is open on Sunday where I exchange $63.27 in change, free of charge.
*A new Italian place that opened on my corner that I have yet to try.
*The Cubs won the game of the week against their all time rival, the St. Louis Cardinals on Sunday Night.
*Scoring a 10 point round in a mean game of ‘Scategories’ Saturday Night.
*Being a member of the dominating force that was the guy’s team in a vicious game of Taboo Saturday Night.

Well as you can clearly see, it was one hell of a weekend. What can I say? We all need a weekend like this every once in a while.

I have a busy week that should lend itself to plenty of material.

Thanks for listening

Friday, April 7, 2006

Out On A School Night

Last night’s festivities were at a lovely place located in the heart of the Flatiron District. This fine establishment’s name was Porky’s. Yep, that’s right, Porky’s! The reason behind the drinks, as if there needs to be one, was a going away party for someone I just recently had the chance to meet. I was with a large group of people from work, who I just started interacting with. Funny enough they're the “Interactive” department of my agency…

The crowd was full of agency people and sales people alike. These functions lend themselves to be like business card highways…Zipping from one hand to the next. After speaking with a few different salespeople (That’s PC because there are just a many woman making a living hittin’ the pavement as men in this industry) I was introduced to a beautiful young woman. She looked to be in her mid twenty’s. She was about my height, maybe a bit taller, which by no means makes her a giant, trust me…She had straight, light brown hair cut to just below her jaw line. She carried herself very well, joking, smiling, and able to a bounce from shop-talk to normal talk.

We started our conversation as a group of people all conversing. But as we continued to chat, we became the only two on the dance floor (figuratively speaking of course). There was some physical contact, some touching of the hands and arms has stories passed between the two of us.

As if she being beautiful and having just the type of look I love wasn't enough, she was English too. That accent will gets me every time. We chatted about differences from her spot across the pond and her new residence here in the states. In my head, “this is great, she’s great, Gitty-Up!"

As we bounced form one subject to the next, she said it…I hated to hear it, I tried to block it out entirely. I tried to just skip over the millisecond in time. With that accent that I love so much she said, “Yes my boyfriend…” Now, I don’t know what came after that only because the word boyfriend was not prefaced by “ex.” It could have been “my boyfriend was hit by a train” or it could have been “my boyfriend just cured cancer,” I don’t know…What I do know is this always seems to happen to me. It’s like seeing a great jacket, trying it on, it looks great, you’ve turned to the left, you’ve turn to the right, and then all of the sudden it has a boyfriend…

Once I tuned back into what exactly she was saying about this lucky lad, she went on to mention that he was actually getting ready to cross the pond in this direction as well. “Isn’t that lovely,” I thought to myself. “Oh so lovely for this bloke!”

We continued to talk for a bit longer but things wound down and so did our drinks so we departed off into different directions. As the night went on, we exchanged a couple of glances across the room but that was about it. Before I left, I was sure to go back to say good bye, plant a kiss on the cheek while holding her wrist, “have a great weekend, hope to see you soon.” And with that I was off for the evening…well to another bar that is…

The question I ask you my readers is this: Should I have continued to talk, flirt, and show interest. Or did I play it correctly by staying in sight, a safe distance away. I respect relationships, and am not the type to actively pursue something that is off the market. (wow, that sounded really sexist, but you get what I’m trying to say) Let me know what you think…

Thanks for listening

Thursday, April 6, 2006

Weather Permitting

So it’s official, Mother Nature is Schizophrenic! She’s got more personalities than Helen Keller has bruises on her shins. I have never in my 24 years on this planet witnessed a day like yesterday. Talk about all over the place. I wore suit, no tie, yesterday to work because of a client meeting and right before I said good bye to Matt and Katie, I checked with Al to see what the weather was like outside. “37 degrees, are you kidding me, it’s fucking April!”

Nevertheless, I grabbed my overcoat and headed out the door. I did however leave behind my scarf and gloves in very docile form of protest to the morning’s conditions. Once I made my way up Third Avenue, I noticed it was already warming up and that most people seemed to be far less layered than myself. “So I’m the asshole, who’s over dressed and not willing to let go of winter huh?” I could see it in the eyes of each passing body. The sun was shining and it actually looked and started to feel like a spring day in the city.

However, right before a late morning meeting someone pointed out that it looked like it was snowing outside. “What?” I sprang out of my chair and did everything short of press my nose against the glass, ala ‘that doggie in the window’ style. And I’ll be damned if it wasn’t snowing, big chunks of snow, the kind you see in the dead of winter, certainly not after the start of baseball season. I though to myself, “so who’s the asshole know, huh.”

That meeting was immediately followed by lunch with the client. To her request we headed to an Indian (Dot, not feather) restaurant near our office. This made me a little nervous as I have never really eaten Indian food due to the spiciness of what I’ve heard is every single dish. I’m a wuss, big time, when it comes to food with a kick. But what was I to do, she really wanted to go. “Sure, that sounds great, I love Indian food” I said as we headed for the lobby of our building.

Through the revolving doors and into what was now a steady drizzle. The client and another woman I was with were both well equipped, umbrellas in hand. Yours truly was not, not only did I not have an umbrella, I didn’t think I needed my overcoat because the snow had stopped, so of course I didn’t grab it. “I can’t catch a break today!”

Luckily the spicy spot was very close to our office and I managed to stay semi-dry. The place was nice, white table cloths, linen napkins so I figured I would be ok. Then I noticed it was a buffet. An Indian buffet? This was not such a good thing because even though each item while lying in a large stainless steel, heated dish, had a name plate in front of it, I could not pronounce let alone identify anything.

I followed our client as she took a little of this, and some of that…I just tried to do exactly as she did. I wasn’t going to take any chances. I’ve seen “Forget Polly” and what that was like for Ben Stiller’s character. I started with small bites, cautiously dipping meats into colorful sauces. Not bad, not bad at all.

We had to eat quickly, which was fine by me because as the server dropped the check, I felt a rumble and grumble from down under. “Well, are we all set?” I asked the table as to say, “we gotta get the hell out of here now kids, this place is gonna blow!” I don’t know if it was the chicken, the beef, or the insane amount of curry, but you can bet yours truly was in a hurry to get back to the office.

The weird weather occurrence on the way home was the strangest of them all. These large, although light looking pieces of snow just started cascading down from the sky. We couldn’t tell if they were coming off the tops of buildings or what, but they just kept coming, one after another. And here I am, the asshole again without an umbrella.

The rest of the day flew by and so did the bad weather. By the time it was time to call it a day, the sun was shining, still a bit cool, but nice as can be, and still overcoat weather. That Mother Nature sure is one crazy bitch!

Thanks for listening

Wednesday, April 5, 2006

Class is in Session

Sorry for the late and what will surely be a brief post. Not that I don’t have brilliant, creative ideas flying through my head…it’s more like my body that’s the problem. As I noticed that spring time was going to have summer on its linen coattails, I hit up the gym Monday night. Not only did I hit it up, I managed to muster up enough motivation to fight through dime sized rain drops to get there.

In a mental trick pulled on yours truly, by yours truly I said that I was only going to go if there was a class I could take that started at 7:30. Well of course, after grabbing the class schedule off the refrigerator I knew it was meant to be. Once I arrived at the house of pain, I made my way to studio 2 to participate in “Ripped.” After all, who doesn’t want to be “Ripped?”

As the previous class started to filter out, my future classmates started to walk in and get set up. I say set up, because it seemed as though every other person in the class was a veteran of “Ripped.” They were all setting up shop in their own little area. They each grabbed a few sets of dumbbells, a straight bar and a “step.” So of course, I started to do the same. After all, I didn’t want everyone to know I was the “new kid.” Although that would surely become crystal clear as the high paced, heart pumping music started.

Our instructor was, as I’m sure most are, a very toned, perky, woman dressed in all stretchy cloths. We started jogging in place and then around the room in a circle. It looked like an adult version of Duck, Duck, Goose. While almost at the point of dizziness I noticed that I was in fact the only guy in the entire class. I was the only one not wearing a sports bra, I was sure of that…

No worries though, I’m in decent shape. It’s only been a few weeks since my last trip to the house that Hanz and Franz built. And after all, the heaviest dumbbells in the room were mine, at a robust 10lbs a piece. There was more jogging, following by some curling, and then some more jogging and some more curling. I think you get the point.

The sweat was pouring off my face and I could only at this point try to figure out how or why these weights that were clearly marked 10lbs weighted at least 1000lbs. The instructor was again, cheerful and positive as she counted off…10, 9, 8, 8, 8…”wait a minute, she’s been on 8 for like 10 minutes now. Is she trying to kill me?”

That muscle pain in my arms and chest was only soon replaced by the pain in my ass and legs. In what was a compromising position for all, especially me being the only guy in the class. We were down on all fours, lifting one leg at a time, almost like dog would pee on a fire hydrant. The leg would go up and then out, and then back as there was only the sound of yet another 10 count that seemed to last an eternity bellowing through the studio. As there were women all around and even more mirrors, I made sure I kept my nose to the mat during these drills. After all, I don’t want to be the creepy guy in “Ripped” who stares.

Two days later I don’t know if I’m “Ripped” but it certainly feels like something’s torn…I think it’s my rotator cuff.

Thanks for listening

Monday, April 3, 2006


Now, I am by no means a religious man by any stretch of the imagination.  I see very little wrong or right in most religions.  Some may say it’s my age, my upbringing, or even my geographical location…maybe they’re all part of it.  However I have recently had a religious experience to the likeness of nothing I have before seen or felt.  

It’s like two days ago there was noise, clutter, and an ever changing scene in front of my eyes.  A scene I had to witness, although usually by choice…that every scene is now shining in a different light.  Although I know the origin of this metamorphic experience and had heard about it from others, I had now idea how quickly it would change my life.  

How so much can be expressed in just three letters keeps has keep me up the last two nights.  And yet its power is changing the world as we know it.  It’s changes its speed from fast to slow and carries a force that can bring everything to a standstill.  I know people who tried to convert me and I shunned them away, only now to see what they wanted me to see…Three letters, separately mean nothing, but aligned changed the course of my existence.  

I will love, cherish, and always honor this new found glory as a simply profound chapter in my story.  I raise my eyes and hands in the air as I drop to my knees thanks.  I will never be the same and I love the certainly and strength in my voice as I yell its greatness from the tallest tower in this beautiful city.  I love you…MY DVR…

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Sunday Lovely Sunday

In what looked like a scene out of “You’ve Got Mail,” Central Park was a zoo yesterday. The temperature crept into the mid 70’s, a mercury level I had forgotten existed. I woke up an hour later than I wanted to, due to Day Light Saving Time (Something I never had used to have to worry about because Arizona as well as Indiana do not do Day Light Saving Time. Don’t believe me, look it up). I would have thought my cool, iHOME alarm clock would have adjusted itself, but I was wrong.

After doing something I loathe, cleaning of any sort, I entertained the idea of going to the place with the machines, the weights, the bikes, what’s it called again? Oh yeah, the gym. It’s been so damn long since I’ve been, I was worried I wouldn't remember what side of the street it was on…

In preparation for the trip to the place of iron pumping, I threw on some gym clothes, shorts nonetheless. After all, the sun was out, there was not a cloud in sight and I knew my body needed it. After all, summer, the beach, and other shirtless events would hopefully soon start to fill the calendar. After giving my room a nice clean, amassing what felt like 50 lbs in laundry, and even picking up the living room I was done playing Alice.

My roommate was out of the apartment earlier in the morning to do a 10k run through Central Park. Needless to say, he didn’t feel the need to wake me up to see if I wanted to give it a try. He walked in the door with not a single sign of tiredness, not a single drop of sweat on his brow. I on the other hand, wearing my gym clothes, looking as though I had worked out too, was loosing all physical motivation to head to the gym and jump on the a death trap know as the Elliptical.

“Hey mate, you fancy going up to Central Park, maybe throw a Frisbee?” (He’s English if you didn’t already know). I start thinking what…this guy just ran over 6 miles in the park and now he wants to go back to that very same park and throw a Frisbee (an activity I’m terrible at)? Is he mad?

“Sure, what the hell. It’s beautiful outside,” I said quickly after realizing it was the closest I was going to get to going to the gym today.

After a trip to Sports Authority to buy a Frisbee (they were out of them, apparently we were not the only people who had such a bright idea) we opted for a football instead. An American football that is, not a Soccer ball as he wanted to buy.

There was not an empty blade of grass in the park. There were balls of all sizes, disks, and even shuttlecocks flying through the air. (Why did that sound so dirty?) Singles, couples, friends, families, kids, babies, and just about everything in between walking, biking, and laying around the park. I had trouble throwing the football back and forth only because I was worried a foreign object was going to come flying out of no where, only to land right in the middle of my face. Needless to say, people-watching was the best sports activity that day.

After a quick shower back at the apartment it was time to head to Third and Long for a perfect ending to a great New York City Sunday. The bar was a bit more crowded than I thought and even more so than when I had walked by just a few hours ago. I only knew two people at the bar, a couple, and regular characters that make Sundays at 3&L my favorite day of the week. We had some drinks, ordered Thai food for dinner, and continued to laugh and bullshit into the evening. It was a good time, one that lasted longer than anticipated only because it got dark so much later. The three of us and of course the ever funny bartender made a nice little evening out of it all. Once they all started rolling through their mental rolodexes of single girlfriends to set me up with, I knew the night was about to get even funnier. One of the best lines came from the lovely lady of the couple “I’d set you up with some of my girlfriends, but I don’t like most of them.” Here we go again...

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