Made In The Midwest

Well we continued to chat and it was absolutely effortless. There was no “is she looking over my shoulder at the guys behind me?” there was no “is this girl ever going to shut up?”. As we moved from subject to subject she even offered me what was left of her little snack. She had brought some pre cut cheese (notice she didn’t cut the cheese) and fruit she had been nibbling on all day long. I of course decided it would be the closest form of rudeness to turn down this picnic cuisine.

All of the sudden it was like I hadn’t even come up to the park like by myself. At this point it was a little after 6 and the sun looked as though it was just starting to think about heading down but still shining brightly. April was in fact from the Midwest, Chicago no less. (If New York is my wife, Chicago is my Mistress) She had been in the city for a few months so was lucky enough to show up just in the time for the good stuff.

She certainly carried herself well and had that warm Midwest feeling but looked any but the sorts. She was small in stature, as she had a cute pair of khaki shorts on with a black bikini top. As the sun had been beating down on every blade of grass all day long, I was a big supporter of this look. There were 100’s of other girls in their bathing suits, but were wearing both top and bottom. Now coming from Florida, the idea of wearing a bathing suit, top and bottom mind you, with out a single body of water, albeit a pool, lake, channel, or ocean, in sight just seems a bit ridiculous.

As it turns out April works in PR for the medical industry…A job she has openly admitted she’s not too fond of but it was paying her well and it got her to New York. I had to laugh because only moments later she was going over what she liked and disliked about the job so far when her phone rang. Now, normally a phone ringing would not be worth mentioning let along claiming to be a funny act however this time it was different. As if her phone was plugged into an amp her ring filled the parks air with…of all songs and customized songs…The Chicken Dance.

As my hand flew into the hair to emulate two clucking chickens she started to laugh and turn bright red simultaneously. She went on to explain that a friend of hers had downloaded it and set it as her ring a few days ago and she hadn’t remember to change it yet because every time it went off the embarrassment of it all acted like that little gadget in Men In Black and she go tearing through her bag trying to find it only to answer as quickly as possible.

There is something to be said that confidence and the ability to laugh at yourself are a deadly combination. The two, if used properly (why does it sound like I’m writing in a Science Journal) really keep each in check. I only hope she does have both because so far, soooooo good!

Almost done, will finish the evening later today!

Thanks for listening

This Spot Taken?

The better part of my day off was spent in Central Park, the Grand Lawn to be exact, reading watching and even talking…I only mention the talking because I went to the park by myself. With my roommates out of town all weekend long and me going a lil stir crazy staying in to enjoy the solitude I ventured north 35 blocks to enjoy the last few hours of sunlight this Memorial Day weekend.

I grabbed a beach towel, my book, iPod, sunglasses, and bottle of water from the corner deli to complete my kit for the day. I figured the lawn would be littered with people just as myself who were not fortunate enough to be hob-knobbing in the Hamptons or keg standing on the Jersey Shore.

My assumption was correct as there were groups of people as far as the eye could see. Small groups, large groups, and parties of one were everywhere. I found a nice spot away from the throwing zone where every possible recreational object was being whizzed through the air as getting a Frisbee to the temple seemed like a terrible way to end my holiday weekend.

As I tried to concentrate on my book “A Long Way Down” my eyes seemed (and hey were) preoccupied by this beautiful girl sitting at two o’clock. I noticed her before I sat down and looking back she may have been the exact reason I chose that particular piece of real estate. I tried reading on my back, my side, and finally my stomach, all proved to be completely unless and unsuccessful.

She was by herself too which was the first mere glimmer of attractiveness as the afternoon went on…The type of independence, that “I am completely comfortable going to lunch, dinner, or the movies by myself” is just down right sexy. As if she need that head start, she was absolutely beautiful. She was tiny as she struggled to cover much space on her white sheet. She too had brought the essentials for an afternoon in the park. However, she one-upped me as she brought a basket full of goodies.

Her dark hair was pulled back with single strands coming down both sides of her face, both equally as sexy as they were probably blind spots as well. Her small frame was tan and toned with that, “yes I work out, but I’m not a gym rat” as she had a lil tummy that added to the character of a character I hadn’t even met yet.

I say yet because as I tried to make eye contact through my shades through to hers, there was something. There was a smile on her part followed (probably too quickly and too gooberish) by one of my own. We were close enough to talk with out getting up or shouting from towel to sheet…So I did…

“Hey there, how are you?” I know it’s no “here’s looking at you kid” but it’s all that came out. “I’m great how are you?” she said so cheerfully sincere. Now I may be jaded to small talk with women because it’s usually after a few and over a few loudly played songs. But this was different, this was easy.

We continued with the basics, what we had done that day, the previous few days off, and what part of the city we call home. Her name was April and she soon invited me to her neck of the woods or park in this case, so I quickly (probably too quickly once again) hopped up and sat opposite of her on her white sheet. She kept smiling, over and over again, and it was perfect time, like I had never seen it before…

Will finish soon, I promise!

Thanks for listening

Poor Barbaro!

There are many parts that make up our lives that I consider separate participants in a race, all fighting for position, fighting for the right to be the strongest, the omnipresent, and the all empowering. For most I think family is the leader in this figurative journey. I mean, sure there may be times in our lives when the leader is overtaken by another competitor, maybe it’s work or financial stress, but we hope that the crowd favorite regains its lead sooner rather than later…

I only bring such a topic up because I just feel like I’m stuck! I can’t get my mind focused on who or what wants to be the leader. Don’t get me wrong my family is my number one, but in my smaller more selfish and self absorbed world (hey, I call it like I see it, I’m 24 I’m aloud to be selfish) nothing seems to want to take the initiative to cross the tape first. Nothing in my life is going terrible by any means, but I just can’t find that one part, that one element that gets me to jump out of bed in the morning.

Now a cynic would say “that’s getting older or growing up.” Fuck That! I don’t think like that and I’m sure as hell going to live my life like that…I know there are people out there that have their first and second place racers giving it their all. They know what they want, they know where they’re going and they know what they have in order to get there.

I’m not a middle of the pack kind of guy, I know I’m not, so it’s only a matter of time before I find something that makes me regain the lead…I don’t think my trip to Europe could be coming at a better time in the year and my life…

Thanks for listening

A Pint, A Glass, A Cup


Nine days in counting and yours truly will be taking off for his first European vacation. The closest I’ve gotten to globe trotting is watching National Lampoon’s European Vacation a 100 times. “Look kids, there’s Big Ben.” A classic in its own right no doubt, I can only hope my trip is as entertaining without all of the physical comedy.

Luckily I live in a mini UN, as one roommate is from London while the other is from Cape Town and have both traveled all over the world. I have done little planning thus far just because when it comes to traveling that’s just something I don’t usually find the need to do. However, this is a little different from heading down to Florida to see the parents or back to Arizona to see old friends. After all, I think I used a note from my mom to get through security at Fort Lauderdale airport.

The reason behind this perfectly timed vacation is a wedding. Relax, I’m not swinging through Russia to pick up a Mail Ordered Bride. Now that I think about it, even if I was she wouldn’t really be mail ordered as I would be there to pick her up…it would be more like a COD bride.

I am actually taking a leap across the pond for the nuptials of two good friends of mine. They’re getting married in a small town in Ireland. Most of my trip, that will include stops in Paris (oh la la) and London, will be spent in the Irish Spring Hills of that same small town outside of Shannon.

The parts of the trip I’m struggling with are parallel with the same issues I’m dealing with stateside. Sure, the idea of backpacking Europe sounds amazing. Not shaving, moving from place to place on a nightly basis, traveling lightly and worrying the same. However, I don’t know if I’m wired that way…It’s that same idea or way of living, thinking and breathing that gets me some days in the city. Why am I lugging to work to report to the man when I should be writing, working, trying to host my own show, and doing all of this for me in a city that allows for such a lifestyle?

That being said there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to step foot in a youth hostel and share a common bathroom with 3 other foreign travelers and sleep in a twin bed. After all it’s Europe, they invented the finer things of life. I would love the chance to Hotel vs Hostel hopping from one to another. I would love to have breakfast outside countless cafes every morning while experiencing a ’78 Bordeaux by night. That type of power thinking is the same infectious mindset that hits me every time I wear a suit, every time I give a great presentation, every time I rub elbows with the ‘higher-ups’ and I love that feeling all the same…

So I guess the question is, can I live or travel to two different worlds in this lifetime? Is there a place somewhere in the middle that offers a combination of both? I don’t know the answer yet, but I hope to have a better idea sooner rather than later…

Thanks for listening

Tour de NYC

After a Friday night full of drinks with friends that even included a bar fight, the rest of the weekend kind of paled in comparison. Due to the length of Friday’s evening my Saturday was pretty much shot…There is just something about waking up, feeling like you’ve been kicked in the head and having the perfect temperature in your room that makes it tough to get up and moving…

Now I hate being lazy like that, I do, you just feel like you wasted a day and I did! That being said when it came around time for dinner and an invitation for dinner down in Little Italy came about I couldn’t resist. Especially considering the fact that most of the people I would be dining with were part of the debauchery one night earlier.

My roommate and I were the first to arrive on Mulberry Street, the heart of Little Italy as it was just about the perfect night to grab dinner in a great little area I very rarely see. It is literally one Italian restaurant after the next, one after another, all serving the same stuff. I’ve often made the joke that they’re really all connected and there is just a super kitchen that prepares meals for them all. Almost like Disney World, a mega super sized, overaly detailed magical place that is connected by underground tunnels.

As this is probably not the case, we decided on a place that was busy but not crazy. There were 7 of us which made of the perfect number of people for a nice large circular table. Our server was terrible as he managed to get about as much wine on the table as he did in our glasses. Granted, he looked like he could have played an older character in the original Godfather, 25 years ago!

The food was OK, but the company was great. Going out to dinner with groups of friends is something I wish I did more often. It’s just a great feeling to be surrounded by people who are in similar spots, similar places in life as you are…We had apps, then entrees, bottles of wine with both, and finished with coffee. It was like all of a sudden I was a grown up (having espresso was something I’ve been doing for years, but never had friends that joined me) and so was the rest of the table. It was a very scary, yet very comfortable and welcoming feeling.

As Saturday night was much tamer than Friday I woke up Sunday with some energy and a crazy idea…It was nice out almost too nice to go the gym so why not take the old bike out around town?. Now, when I say the ‘old bike’ I’m not just using that as a general term, it literally is an old bike I bought at a street fair a few years ago.

The plan was to bike down the East River from my Murray Hill apartment all the way around lower Manhattan and end up in Battery Park for the few sections of the NY Times I had jammed into my bag. Before the journey really started I stopped by a bike store for some fresh air in the tires. So with my bag full of reading material and the sun on my face I was off.

I had the FDR on my right and the East River on my left as I continued to make my way downtown. There are a lot of parks, fields, and tennis courts once south of 14th street. I know this because once I made my way past Houston (that’s House-ton, not Houston as in Texas) I decided to drive through a small puddle rather than try and fight some joggers for the dry patch on the path. As I came to the other side of this innocent body of water I noticed something was wrong with my rig, I had not a single lick of air in the back tire. I mean none, I was riding on the rim. (See what happens when you try to exercise?).

So after kicking and screaming (there was a soccer game going on next to me, I don’t have a short temper) I started the trek back to my apartment. This time, FDR on the left East River on the right…I stopped about half way to read the few sections I had grabbed out of The Times before I left. It was by far the best part of the trip although reading the paper riverside with the breeze going was not the easiest thing in the world…None the less it was a nice little Sunday and part of a nice little weekend!

Thanks for listening

First Class, No Class

When did everyone get so damn casual? I know it may have started in the office the day after Thursday long ago, but I’m getting a bit sick of it. And maybe it’s just New York but all of the sudden it seems like everyone has dressed down to a whole new level…

As I waited for the initial boarding call for my flight to Phoenix last week I could not help but notice the attire of my fellow passengers. Now it was an early flight but by no means was it still dark outside kind of early. And of course we would all love to flop around all day in our sweats and slippers, I know they’re comfortable. After all, where do you think the phrases, “oh, it’s nothing, don’t sweat it” and “I’m just going to ‘slip’ into something…” came from?

So as I sat in my jeans, white button-down, and black sports coat (dressed up, but not over the top) I continued to see people dressed as if their bed was somewhere between the security check point and our gate. The bed bugs, as I’ll call them were more often than not women, sporting their distracting duds and an US Weekly tucked under there arm as they searched for a seat to call their living room.

Again, who wouldn’t love to cruise around town in their jammies? But come on, it just ain’t right! And as if dressing for bed wasn’t enough, a few of the guilty even brought their pillow as an accessory. 1) Phone charger, check 2) Toothbrush, check 3) Glow worm, check!

I know airplane seats are not the best, I know they’re not made by Lazy Boy and they’re not stocked with pulsating massagers like the chairs in Brookstone, but deal with it! I don’t need to have your Pottery Barn pillow case wedged between us like the thin wall that makes a “Converted Two Bedroom Apartment” possible. I just don’t!

Now I know New York is probably a little old school when it comes to dressing to impress. After all, we don’t have steering wheels and short walks from the parking lot and back to hide behind all of the time. We’re out there, on display all the time…And I love it.

As if being surrounded by concentrated juicy couture wasn’t bad enough, I landed in what is possibly the most casual city in America, Phoenix, Arizona. The sun is always out, the weather is always beautiful, and people’s legs and feet are always exposed. I had forgotten what it was like to wear flip flops to just about any establishment without batting an eyelash between your designer shades. The line “whoa buddy, are you going straight to the wedding or what?” was the first thing that came out of my buddy’s mouth when he picked me up curbside at Sky Harbor.

The answer, “no, you just never know who you are going to sit next to on a plane.” About 4 years ago my mom sat next to the managing editor of a small men’s magazine called Maxim. They started to chat, they exchanged cards, and the very next summer I was in New York City doing an internship. Now, if she would have been sporting a blankie and rollers, something tells me I would have never landed in this city I love!

Thanks for listening

Grounded Before Take Off

The location changed last minute but drinks were still on and I even brought my roommate along for a round of drinks. The weather started to drizzle as I began to hope that was not a sign of the evening to come…

The bar was one I had been to numerous times before (I know, surprise surprise) only because it was very close to my Improv studio. So at least I’d be familiar with my surroundings and know the lay of the land even if it were to be the only lay to come of last Wednesday night.

My roommate and I made our way to the back of the bar to find the lady of the evening sitting with a large group, maybe eight people or so, none of which I had ever met before. It was a long rectangular table and she was sitting in the about the same spot as Jesus at the last supper. That being said there was really no easy or subtle way to find myself setting next to the very girl I’d come to see…

No worries though, there was room at the end of the table where my roommate and I decided to set up camp. And to our pleasant surprise there was a beautiful girl sitting towards the end of the table placed directly between the object of my instant messages and myself.

As it turned out this dark skinned, dark curly haired seating buddy was a very good friend of the very girl I had come to see. We started with small talk and she seemed interesting and actually works in the same industry. After only a few minutes another guy showed up…a good looking guy, wearing a Boston Red Sox’s Tee Shirt, a big deal normally as we are in New York, but an even bigger deal as those Sox’s were playing the beloved Bronx Bombers!

As the bean town boy walked in, he just as Moses did before him, parted the red sea (the long rectangular table) and pulled up a spot right next to you know who. Now a couple of thoughts started to run through my mind at this point. 1, who the fuck is this guy 2, how did I get this wrong again, 3, who the fuck is this guy?

Once again I some how managed to be a blundering fool when it comes to interpreting signs, words, body language, text, IM’s, and even smoke signals when they come from the opposite sex. But the good news about this latest case of mistaken-I-think-she-likes-me was there was very little time, effort and not a single dollar behind it.

So the question now is after spending all night with her friend, is she fair game, is she open waters seeing as though not a single touch, word, or even an admittance of any sort was shared between my original interest? Let me know what you think…

Thanks for listening