I cried about baseball

  Hey. Not that I think any of you care all that much, but it has been some time since I have written anything. That's mostly for two reasons. One being the fact that I realized my writing was more for me than anyone else. And two, because I haven't really been inspired to write about anything. Well, something happened last week. You might have heard about it...

THE CHICAGO CUBS WON THE WORLD SERIES.

  Hooo boy.

  Before I get into what this meant for me personally, if you have a TV, or a radio, or access to a newspaper, or the Internet, or a Morse code machine, you have seen that the Cubs getting a WS ring is a pretty big deal to the world at large. So many people are happy for so many different reasons and it's really a beautiful thing. It's great for the city. It's great for baseball. And hopefully it's the first of many. It's really cool to watch so many people celebrate and have a positive thing to get behind.
  The general public's celebration was great for me to see. Especially because it was about a thing I care about as much as a grown man can care about something that doesn't really directly effect his life. I cared about it so much I involuntarily cried as soon as the final out of game seven was made. I jumped out of my chair, ran across the TV room I was in and hugged my father as hard as I have ever hugged him in my life. He also cried. Two blue collar, grown men embraced and cried. If you know me, you know I'm not afraid to cry or show emotion in general (something I very much get from my father). But this felt and feels different. It's nearly a week later and I'm still watching highlights and getting choked up.
  I do not, and will never feel shame about that reaction. But, there are people who scoff at the idea of a grown man being emotional about something as trivial as a baseball game. I get it. The ice caps are melting. It's not "important". But it's not necessarily about the game specifically, as it is about 20+ years of memories with my dad, my buddies, and even strangers.
  Being a Cubs fan (or really an actual fan of any sports franchise) is part of the fabric a lot of peoples lives. I won't dive into a rant about the "suffering" we've had to endure watching the Cubs, but know that it's as real as sports "suffering" can be. So real that there are things that my brain has blocked out memories of, as if they were a traumatic accident. For instance, I have no idea where I was or who I was with for game 6 of the 2003 NLCS. And if I'm not reminded by someone or something, I often forget the Mike Quade era even happened.
  There was a time during the 2008 NLDS where my dad looked at me over a Jameson shot and said; "I'm sorry."

"For what?" I asked.

"For making you a Cubs fan," he replied before we threw back our shots. Some people might look at that as sad, or foolish. But that was an important bonding moment in an already close father/son relationship. We were in this thing together. And for real. Both adults that can deal with sports pain in the way one should always deal with sports pain; via alcohol.
  For every bit of heartache, there have been so many fun memories. Watching Kerry Wood throw 20 strikeouts while bagging newspapers for our paper route with my best friend Jim (what I like to call the most Normal Rockwell moment of my life). That same season, with that same best friend, I said that if Gary Gaetti hit a homer, I would call and ask a girl out. I was positive that he wouldn't. And sure enough, The Rat put one out and I had to have an awkward 12 year old phone conversation with a girl I was scared to talk to. It's that stuff.  Those moments, that brought out the tears.
  It's reaching high school and taking the train to Wrigley for the first time. Drinking enough Squirt and Gordon's Vodka to kill a horse and taking in your first ballgame sans parents. The first time you're allowed to legally enter Murphy's. The first time you can order a beer at the game and not worry about it. It's part of growing up. And it's sharing these experiences with the people you care about that bring out the tears.
  It's being dedicated (read; foolish) enough to keep tabs on the team's rebuild. Watching the likes of Darwin Barney and Nate Schierholz patrol Wrigley Field while you know the future is toiling in Iowa. Sticking it out long enough to get rewarded. That's what brings out the reaction.
  This year started and barring a slight hiccup mid season, the regular season went according to plan. The playoffs were as nerve wracking a sports experience as I could think of, but in the end we got what we wanted. I don't ever have to hear someone make fun of my Cub fandom again because they're "lovable losers". The team that I care most outside my friends and family are world champions. That's why I cried. That's what created the explosion of emotion that I stifled back until that third out in the bottom of the 10th was made. So mock it all you want. But I'll leave the you with the immortal words of Jeffery Lebowski:

"STRONG MEN DO CRY."
 

Christmas doesn't suck...but right after it kind of does.

 
Full disclosure:  This is going to be me venting. 




  
  For me and most of my friends, three weeks ago was a wonderful day.  It was French Christmas.  That is the start of real deal Christmas celebrating, and boy do I love it.  I was like a pig in shit that whole week.  Family and friends and all the things I mentioned in another post about how much I love Christmas.  That Monday the 29th, I had the worst case of post holiday blues I think I've ever recorded.  But, the following week still isn't real life.  Most people still aren't in my buildings at work, my manager was gone and NYE was still something to be excited about.  But after that?  There isn't any other time of year where there's such an abrupt return to reality. 
  It didn't help that the Monday after all the holiday cheer was the start to the coldest, nastiest few day stretch we have had this winter.  It was a real kick in the teeth.  Tenants were taking down, or had already taken down their decorations.  On the drive to work, I drive past a commercial florist that had a 30 yard dumpster full of garland and old trees.  That served as a symbol.  "IT'S OVER.  WELCOME TO TWO MONTHS OF HELL." 
  The rest of that week was spent as a constant battle with myself not to fall into a deep depression every time I saw still standing Christmas decorations, or a lingering Christmas song popped into my head. And to boot, now that the busy time of the holidays had past, it really sunk in how much I missed my grandma Ellie.  Who for the first time in 28 years wasn't part of my Christmas.  I've made it to today and I think I'm out of the woods as far as the post holiday blues goes.  As long as I don't go stir crazy and make it to April, everything will be ok. 
  I used to think I was in the minority as far as how I felt after the holidays.  I thought; "Maybe I only feel that was because I like Christmas so much..."  But it turns out, way more of my friends feel the same way than I thought.  It also turns out way more of my friends are back on the holiday bandwagon than I realized.  It was pretty much general consensus that December rules because it's busy and full of fun stuff, and that's why it's so miserable when it's over. 
  As one of my friends put it; "it's just a feeling of dread".  Time seems to move slower, there's not much to look forward to.  And the weather?  It sure is weather.  Today would have been a lovely big flake snowfall on December 22nd.  But on January 13th it's a kick in the shins. 
  You might be thinking, 'What's this wing dings point here?'  Really I'm just griping.  And feels good that someone else might read this and relate.  But also, know you're not alone in feeling bummed out.  Know you can gripe about this with your buds if it makes you feel better.  And most importantly, know that there's stuff you can do to make it suck less. 
  A lot of people have told me that planning something fun for the spring helps cope with winter blues.  And they're right.  But even easier than that, just keep busy.  I'm guilty of letting the winter hold me down, and letting myself be a sad sack. Being cooped up inside tends to do that to me.  Find something you want to do an just do it at least once a week.  Anything from the gym, to a trivia night at a bar.  Just do something to break up the time.  Sorry, I'm done giving you advice you didn't ask for. 
  Point is, post holiday blues/winter blues sucks.  But it sucks for all of us.  Now that it's mid January, lets all just start the countdown until pitchers and catchers report to Spring Training.  Thanks for reading my whining.

Christmas doesn't suck.

  Today is November 4th.  A what I would consider great Halloween weekend is not too far off in the rear view mirror, the rock salt bins have been put in the parking lot of my work, and the weather is getting into that gray late fall "pre-winter" period.  All of this used to mean that I, Derek Self, would start to get irrationally angry that Christmas stuff was here for the next two months.

"IT'S TOO EARLY!" I would say, while probably drinking coffee out of a holiday themed cup.

"CAN'T THEY WAIT UNTIL AFTER THANKSGIVING!?!"

  But, in the last year or so, I have come to realize that I'm ready for Christmas by mid October.  That was troubling to me at first.  I don't want to be one of those weirdos who decorates their house November 1st, and doesn't take it down until February.  But after months of getting mad at my neighbors for doing that very thing, I realized that wasn't the case.  I don't really expect large gifts from anyone, and I have no significant other to celebrate with.  So what is it?  Why do I like it so much now?  Then it hit me:

MY FAMILY*

  It's one of those things that dawns on you as you get older.  The emotional comfort I get from Christmas is directly related to how great it was for me growing up.  I've come to realize that every Christmas I have celebrated in my 28 years as a human being has been a beautiful middle class day dream, that I wouldn't trade for anything.  Each December 25th of my life has been a slice of Americana.  With roasts, and pies and as the years went on, a lot of booze.  It's the one day a year I know I am going to be totally relaxed (at least while single and childless) and in good company.  This year will be a little rough, as it's the first year we're going to celebrate after the passing of my beloved grandma.  But I know it'll be OK because I'll have my family.
  Aside from realizing how great my family has made the holidays for me, there is another reason I have regained a love for Christmas:  I am several years removed from working a retail job.  If you want to hate Christmas with the power of a thousand Scrooge's, work a retail job.  I worked at a hardware mega store, and even that was terrible.  I can't imagine what it would be like to work in a mall from October to January.  Christmas music was RUINED for me.  Being forced to listen to "Holly Jolly Christmas" on loop is something they probably used to do in Guantanamo.  But, now that I'm not forced, love the stuff.
   So, from early November until about the first week of January, I will be mainlining holiday cheer and watching classic 90's Christmas commercials on YouTube.  Hell, I might even buy a tree this year.  If only to sit around it and think on how much I appreciate my family and all the great Christmas memories they've given me.  That's not to say I won't get completely sick of Christmas commercials by January 10th, and threaten to punch Michael Bolton through my TV.  But I'm going to enjoy it while it's appropriate.

*When I say family, that includes my friends.  Who are as much family as anyone I share a bloodline with

Enough already!

  When you enter the work force, you're around adults as your peers for the first time.  Most of your life, your interactions with middle aged, married, adults with children have been with family members, teachers or something like that.  But now that these type of people are your coworkers, you get a little more insight as to what it's like to be in their shoes.  You quickly learn that most people are miserable, and want nothing more than to pass their misery on to you.  They give you life advice based on their shitty, unfulfilling existence and it can be scary. 
  But, the older you get, and the longer you're in the real world, you come to realize that fact.  You're able to let their sad sack existence roll off your back and see that adult life doesn't have to be the way they tell it.  Entering the final years of my 20's there are a couple of pieces of advice I'm really sick of hearing.  Here they are (this is all going to be from the male perspective, duh):


1) "Don't ever get married."
   There are multiple layers as to why this pisses me off:

- I'm sorry you married a bitch, I really am.  But don't project that shit on to me.  Don't try to sour my image of married life because you're so unhappy in your own.  I know lots of people who are married and have a great time, so don't try to make your failed relationship seem like the fate of all marriages. 

- Maybe you're an asshole.  Maybe your marriage sucks because you're a shitty husband.  Buy your wife a fucking bouquet, take the kids for the night and let her go out.  Do something you used to do together before you were miserable.  Do something.  You shitty piece of shit deadbeat. 

- Sometimes I think dudes say this stuff because they think it makes them seem cool.  I used to work with a guy that would end every phone conversation with his wife by hanging up, holding the phone out and yelling "CUNT!".  Then he would look and see if I laughed or not.  Newsflash:  I think it's way cooler if you love your wife and can't wait to see her at the end of the day.

2) "Your life is over when you have kids..."

  Look, I don't have any children, so I don't really know what the fuck I'm talking about.  But...your life isn't over.  Your life as you previously understood life to be is over.  But what did you think was going to happen?  You were just going to dump your kid off with a sitter and continue going to fancy dinners and bars?  What I think a lot of people mean when they say this is; "I had kids before I was ready, and now I don't know what to do".  That's fine.  I hope you figure it out.  But don't put having kids in a negative light because you don't want to grow up and stay in on a Friday night.  This only counts when it's a married couple that had a kid and now does nothing but complain.  An "oops" baby is a horse of a different color.

Shit nobody tells you when you're a kid that I wish someone did

  As you get older, you experience new things pretty frequently.  Living on your own for the first time, your first bad breakup, etc etc.  Big life changes are to be expected by any rational human being.  But there are a few things that happen as you get older that aren't really explained to you that are pretty key.  Here, in no particular order are five important pieces of information I would give a 21 year old that would actually listen to me. 


1)  Once you're out on your own, you spend more than half your time doing shit you don't want to do*.

  This probably varies on how irresponsible you choose to be, and what your living situation is.  But no matter what, you're spending time doing shit you'd rather not be doing.  Say you live in apartment.  Even if you don't have to mow the lawn, you still have to sit down and pay bills or do the laundry.  Watching that fith hour of Law and Order: SVU isn't going to make sure your cell phone doesn't get cut off.  No matter who you are or where you live, you have to run errands, clean up, cook and all that stuff.  Then once you do own something, you can add maintenence and upkeep to all that other stuff. 
  Sure, you can put stuff off.  But as I've gotten older, I now realize that's just delaying the inevidable.  There's a reason my dad needed me to take out the garbage right that minute, rather than wait until later.  If you just do the shit you need to do when it needs to get done, you have more time to do the stuff you WANT to be doing.  He was trying to teach me that.

2)  Stress is a mother fucker

  This one is a bit tricky because I wouldn't want to scare kids into thinking that adult life is nothing but people putting the screws to you about every little thing.  But sometimes it is.  The biggest thing about stress is learing to deal with it.  In my case it was stopping myself from eating a whole bunch of garbage when work or something else got to be overwhelming.  Sure it makes you feel better to rely on a vice, but it's just fucking you over in the long run.  Breathe, relax, be logical and you can work through just about anything.  If things get to be too much even after all that, talk to someone. 

3) All that shit about hangovers, and not being able to eat what you want is true

  I maintain that you don't really start getting hangovers until you're over 25.  Chances are you've had a hangover if you're under 25 and drink.  But not the crippling hangover that lasts two days (sometimes more) and extends to the beggining of your work week.  THAT'S a hangover. 
  It's cliche, but that stuff about changing your eating habits is true too.  When I was 22, I worked out more than twice a week and didn't have to concern myself as much with what I ate.  I was still fat, but a tighter, more in shape fat.  I could still lose 10-15 pounds at the drop of a hat if I put my mind to it.  Now?  Forget it.  Between not wanting to spend my free time at the gym, and how easy it is to eat fast food, it's a struggle.  There are still assholes you're friends with that can eat whatever they want and stay skinny through most of their 20's.  But by 28, time starts to catch up with those jerk offs too.  You're told both of these things when you're younger, but they need to be emphasised more. 
  Oh yeah, kind of on point, but one day you're going to wake up and stuff just hurts.  You'll have no idea why,but it will.  Have fun with that. 

4) People that are part of your life for a long time will cease to be there

  If you're lucky like me, you'll keep a lot of good friends for most of your life.  But wether it's death, moving or just plain bad circumstances people will be gone.  You'll work with someone for multiple years, develop a friendship and then one day just never talk to them again.  Your childhood neighbors move, and after nearly 20 years of seeing them every day, they're gone.  It's something, at least for me that never crossed my mind when I was younger.  It's not always a bad thing, just a part of growing up.

5) The older you get, the faster time moves

  Days turn into weeks, turn into months, turn into years.  Then one day you say to yourself; 'Holy shit that was ten years ago...'  It's something I dwell on perhaps too much, but it constantly blows my mind how relentless time is.  It's never stopping for me, for you, for anyone.  Enjoy as much of it as you can.

*Unless you're really rich

Stars and Stripes Forever

  A week ago today I was like a kid on Christmas Eve.  Instead of sugarplum fairies dancing through my head, there were brats and plastic beer cups.  It was July 3rd, and I was ready to enjoy the long weekend.  And boy did I.

  But after all of the crushed light beers and junk food was over, I had a small realization:  There is nowhere in the world I would rather be on July 4th than Bartlett, IL.  It's where I grew up, and where I still live today (total townie), and we do it right.  As long as I can remember, it's been the best time of year in our little shit of a Village (not city).  As an adult, especially one without children, the appeal of the 4th of July is obvious.  Days off of work, cook outs, day drinking.  But even as a kid I think I realized that Independence Day was special.  

  It starts with all of the tents and rides going up in Apple Orchard Park.  There's a little bit of electricity to the air and everyone young and old knows that means it's time to get loose.  Whether you're a twenty something looking to get blind drunk, or a 9 year old that knows they're going to get a little extra leeway because mom and dad a couple extra beers on the walk over, it's party time.  

  The fest usually opens on the night of July 3rd.  If you're smart (and in close enough proximity) you walk.  This walk is the first part that makes the weekend special.  For what I think a lot of people would consider a bedroom community, I don't feel like there's a lot of neighborly interaction in Bartlett.  Not enough as least.  But over this span of a few days, especially the first day, everyone in town are buddies.  Open containers?  Sure!  Sharing beers with strangers?  Why not!?  In that walk the aforementioned mom and dad get to have those couple extra beers, and they don't have to worry about driving the mini van home.  

  For the first time in a couple of years I made it a point to go to the fest, and hang out at the beer tent.  And it's the same as it ever was.  Perfect.  The right mix of old friends and quite a few people that make one think; "Where the hell did that guy come from?"  Teenagers awkwardly smoking cigarettes, pre teens running around like idiots because they don't quite know what to do with themselves.  It's all there for you to enjoy.  Everyone is in a good mood, and seeing your tee ball coach after you've had three luke warm Miller Lites isn't the laborious conversation it is if you cross paths at Jewel.  Personally, I like to end my fest attendance with one night.  It's the perfect amount of time spent under a hot tent.  

  The next day, on the 4th, that's what you save your energy for.  Even as a kid, I would wake up knowing it was a special day.  Before the sweet release of drinking 25 beers, it was cake and hot dogs and blowing shit up.  There's that same electricity throughout town.  People walking all over, waving, stopping by parties on the way to another.  

  As time went on, and legalities would allow (being over 21), I started throwing parties at my parents house.  The first one was spur of the moment, but up until two years ago (when I moved out), I like to think we threw a hell of a shindig.  Things have tapered down a bit the last couple of years, but we still have a great day in the pool, and the magic is still in the air.  

  The rest of the weekend continues on like this.  Good vibes, friendly people, a bingo tent to attend.  It's all there in our boring little town for 4 days.  Sure, it's probably cool to hang out on a yacht, and watch fireworks on Lake Michigan.  But I'll take my family, friends, and parents rusty 4ft pool every year.

Hey, remember that one time...

  Recently, I've been spending a lot of long, lonely nights at work. When one is unhappy with their current station, and has time to let their mind wander, they tend to think of happy thoughts.  Well, unless you're a total bummer.  In that case, shape up!  Life ain't so bad! 
  While thinking of these happy thoughts, it occurred to me that I have a lot of really happy, fond memories that are attached to, what seemed at the time anyway, inconsequential events.  I'm sure everyone has these, and they are super fun to think about.  Anyway, here are a couple of mine that popped up recently, please share yours in the comments and we'll all have a fun discussion.


-  My dear friend Will and I were supposed to go see the band Ceremony on a Sunday evening. There was a noon Bears game that he came over to watch, and we were to head to the city afterward.  It was November and the weather was just starting to turn, so it was chilly with what Tom Skilling would call a "wintry mix".  For some reason, neither of us spoke much during the game, and it was almost as if both of us were nervous.  Finally, as the 4th quarter was winding down, Will took a deep breath and said; "Hey, what if we don't go to this show...?"
  I had never been so relieved to hear a question in my life.  As I too, did not really want to go.  I told him that I had been trying to figure out a way to ask the same thing, but we both thought the other REALLY wanted to go and didn't want to be a bummer.  We laughed and then settled into the couches in my parents basement to watch football on that shitty November day.  Like Americans. 
  This will always stick out as such a happy moment between me and my buddy.  I'm not really sure why.


-  There's an equally less thrilling story with this one.  But for some reason it's just burned into my brain.  It was the summer of 2010, and it was a gorgeous summer night in my friend Sam's garage.  See, Sam's garage was clubhouse of sorts.  For a lot of people all the way back to high school, for myself from the age of 18 until he moved to the city with his now wife in 2011.
  Anyhow, it was a weeknight and Sam texted to see if I wanted to enjoy some cold beers.  I arrived with some Shiner Bocks and a pack of smokes and we drank, and talked while Pat and Ron gave us the Cubs game as background music.  Eventually our buddy Joe Legions arrived and more of the same went on until it was time to call it a night.  The Cubs won, but it's not like it was an important game.  We had a good time, but nothing significant happened.  I can't tell you why I think on it so fondly, even down to remembering what kind of beer I brought over, but I always will.  I've had so many good times, with big stories that involve hi-jinx, and way more people, but this one is what I'll always remember.  This was the essence of why the garage was so great.


These are the two that have come to mind recently.  Like I said they're not of REAL significance, but they're special to me.  These little things are what make life worth living.  I have a thousand more that I'm sure will come to mind, but for now, these will hold me over.

It's 2014, let's get it together people.

  I will be 28 years old in six months. For those that aren't real good at basic math, that means I am almost 30 years of age. To most people (myself included) 30 is a milestone. An age where you hope that you have your shit together, and your life is progressing in some semblance of the direction you want it to. As a person who is 30 (or almost 30), one would think their peers would be hip to the goings on in the world, and maybe even have an mildly educated opinion on them. At least an opinion based on facts.
   I suppose it's one of the major drawbacks of social media. The fact that everyone has a platform to express their ideas and theories on things (much like this one, just as worthless as any other). And in no way am I trying to discourage people from putting forth their thoughts and feelings, but when it comes to matters of fact, have your shit together before you spew nonsense for the world to read. I'm not talking about 18 year old kids who don't know any better. I'm talking to the dumb as rocks adults that post OBVIOUSLY fake "news" stories from partisan political websites (both sides of the aisle). Or people that regurgitate something they heard their dad say about politics, but can't defend their stance. These are ADULTS that put these things out there.
   I'm not that smart. Shit, I didn't even go to real college for more than a semester, but I know one thing for sure: If you're not sure something is legit, don't attach your name to it. So what if your dad let you have a sip of his Bud Light when you were 11? He may not know what the fuck he's talking about. Same goes for many news outlets, don't take things at face value. In a world where it takes 30 seconds of Google research to prove or disprove something, it's amazing how many people just agree with a story or opinion that fits their narrative. JUST LOOK IT UP! It's not hard! Maybe I am an optimist, but I would like to think most people I know are intelligent enough to spot fake news. But if you're not sure, and are too lazy to go to Snopes and look it up, don't post it!
   When it comes to matters of opinion based on false facts, that's where I get really steamed. I would never tell anyone how to think, but what I would tell people is to keep an open mind. Don't be stubborn. If someone presents you with information that could potentially sway your opinion, listen to it. You can't ignore something just because it's not what you agree with, that's childish. Listen. Argue with the person, but don't dismiss the information. And for the record, an argument does not consist of one side repeating the same thing over and over again until the other side gives up. The other side gave up because they realize you're dumb. There is however one surefire way to keep yourself from looking stupid, one that I try to use as often as I can: IF YOU DON'T KNOW SOMETHING, SHUT UP ABOUT IT. Ask questions, sure, but coming into a hot button issue half cocked is a sure way to make yourself look like a dummy.
   This whole thing is just a rant about something that's been bothering me for a while. If you're an adult, think about what you post and attach to yourself before you do it. Believe it or not, the slew of dick and fart jokes that make up my Facebook statuses are carefully thought out and researched. I really hope people I'm friends with keep presenting interesting news stories, and expressing their opinions. But for god's sake people, have your shit together before you come at me with some sideways logic. Happy New Year, gang. I'm gonna go watch COPS.

Thanks, Hawks.

  Prior to 2009, I could not have cared less about hockey.  In fact, if you were to ask me about it as a 22 year old, I probably would have told you I thought it was stupid.  The team that I was supposed to root for was largely irrelevant, and had horrible ownership.  Why should I have cared?  Then towards the end of the 2007-2008 season, I heard Adam Burish on the then quite good Mac, Jurko and Harry show on ESPN1000.  I fell in love with the guy.  His personality was what I imagined all hockey players were like.  Goofy, humble, hard working and appreciative of support they got.  So I ended up watching the end of that season where they just barely missed the playoffs.  But I was hooked.
  The 2008-2009 season started and was a pretty great ride for my initial foray into hockey fandom.  A fun team to watch, with a cast of likable stars.  I would say they had a successful season that year, making the Western Conference finals when nobody really though they would.  That set the stage for what is to this point in my life, my favorite sports memory of all time.
  The 2009-2010 Blackhawks season was awesome for so many reasons.  For starters, at the time me and just about all of my friends lived at home with full time jobs.  So as one can imagine, the disposable income to spend at bars during games was flowing.  We would go out in big groups and all have a great time no matter where we went, just about always half in the bag.  One of the best specific memories I have from that season was the debut of Marian Hossa.  It was the Wednesday before Thanksgiving against the San Jose Sharks.  He had a huge game and the Hawks won handily, all while me and the entire bar were piping drunk with pre-Thanksgiving beer. 
  The season went on and the Olympics were almost as fun to watch as the NHL season itself.  But that was just the tip of the amazing iceberg that was the second half of the 2010 season/play offs. 
It was such a great time being at bars packed to the gills with Hawks fans, losing their shit with every ebb and flow of play off games.
   I watched game six against Philly at my house.  With my mom, dad, uncle and most of my closest friends.  It was awesome.  I don't really count watching Bulls championships as I was a kid and I didn't really appreciate it.  So to me this was the first championship I was ever really able to enjoy.  And let me tell you, I did.  A lot.  Work was hell the next day but so worth it.
  What made this whole run really special was the fact I was with just about ALL of my friends through the whole thing.  It's something that I don't think will ever happen again in my life.  It was our last couple years of not really having responsibility other than being to work on time, and living just blocks away from one another. 
  The next couple of years really stung.  Now that I was an actual fan of the game, and trying to understand it more and more each day, the aggravation set it.  Two first round play off exits, and a couple broken remotes later, we arrive at today.
  This season was spectacular in its own right.  Short, sweet, and in the end, just what we all wanted.  It was truly different than 2010, but didn't lack for its own memories.  The regular season was so short it was kind of a blur.  But the play offs, man...  I remember yelling to loud my throat bled when the Hawks beat the Wings in game 7 (thankfully I was just in my parents basement).  Kane's game 5 hat trick during the Kings series was at the tail end of my best friends bachelor party.  Fighting every natural instinct I had to say awake for the Cup Finals opener.
   And finally, watching the Hawks win their second Cup in 4 years with my mom, dad and uncle.  Celebrating in a very different way than I did at 23 years old.  High fives, a single fist pump, some social media, then bed.
  I'm really thankful that the Hawks got their shit together as an organization and helped me become a fan.  I'm thankful that I have something to do on nights in the dead of winter.  I have a valid excuse to go to the bar in the middle of the week and rub elbows with people.  I'm just thankful that I've become a hockey fan.  So, thanks, Hawks.

The New Normal

  I'm well aware that the title of the blog post is the name of a probably crappy (I've never actually watched it) TV show, but I can assure you it has nothing to do with said show.  Be that as it may, the subject of "the new normal" is something that I've been thinking about for a while now.

  When I refer to "the new normal", I'm not talking about societal norms, or things that affect the world at large.  It's a personal thing.  Your personal norm is constantly evolving, and if you stop to think about it, once  you become an adult, it changes so quickly that new things are normal in the blink of an eye.  

  For instance, this past Sunday I was at my parents house with my sister celebrating Mother's Day.  After dinner, as I'm sitting in the front room, I looked at my mom and said; "It's weird that I don't live here anymore."  And really, it is.  For 20 years I lived in the same house, with the same people, and same daily routine.  And now I don't.  Now, it's not weird that I'm a 26 year old grown man that moved into his own house.  It's weird that all of the sudden this was my life and it feels like I didn't even need to do anything to make the transition.  It felt strange for maybe a week and then bang, that's life deal with it.  That's how life goes, I guess.  You kind of just jump into a thing that's already happening and you're forced to go with the flow or you're just going to make this difficult for yourself.  

  The concept of this rapid transition to normal is something that I never really thought about until I became what I call "a real grown-up".  You're a grown-up once you're past college age and are in the workforce full time.  But once you live on your own, you're a "real grown up".  You have responsibility.  I've lived on my own for just shy of a year, but if feels like it's been decades.  And that's because of how rapid new becomes normal.  I didn't have to cut the grass, weed whack, make sure my dryer vent was clear etc when I lived at home.  I could get drunk on Friday and sleep 'til noon on Saturday and it wouldn't make a lick of difference in how I viewed my weekend.  Now if I waste that much of a Saturday sleeping, I'm depressed about the lack of things I got done over the weekend.  Weird.  But that's my life now.  I'm totally fine with that, but again, it wasn't like that a short time ago, and now it is.  

  New normalcy isn't limited to the way you live your life.  As an adult, who you live your life with changes just as rapidly as how you live it.  I still see and hang out with pretty much all of my childhood/adolescent friends, but not as often.  Once you enter your mid-to late 20's, people get married and have serious girlfriends or boyfriends so that takes a big toll on your frequency of hang outs.  Couple that with work, and not sharing every similar interest and you pare down your regular hang out buds quite significantly.  Fortunately, I have interests where a sense of community and/or brotherhood is considered very important.  Through these things I've been able to make friends that are now really important to me, that a year ago I didn't even know existed.  That brings me back to the overall point.  In all aspects of adult life, things change so rapidly that you barely even notice them changing.  

  These aren't bitches or gripes.  They're observations I wanted to put down on paper.  If you read this, thanks.

What the hell happened to holidays?

  With all of the major holidays of 2012 in the no too distant past, I got to thinking about how different things are now compared to the holidays of my childhood.  Now, I'm not talking about in general how holidays are different as a child vs as an adult, but how each holiday is approached in pop culture.  Commercials, TV shows and even movies are not at all the same as they were in my holiday glory years (starting from when I can remember, so 5 or so, all the way to probably 13 or 14).  This is all going off my personal experience, so if I forget a holiday that you celebrate and you're offended, go piss up a rope.  I don't care.
  A lot of the holidays that most Americans celebrate haven't really changed that much as far as the pop culture landscape.  I should mention when I say holidays, I mean days that people actually celebrate (not just days of remembrance like MLK Day, Presidents Day etc).  Days like Valentines Day and Easter are pretty much the same.  Not a lot of pomp and circumstance but still on the radar and acknowledged by the general public.  Valentines Day is still about buying stuff for your significant other, and going out to a fancy dinner.  Easter is probably one of the more "seriously" religious holidays that Christians celebrate (at least casual Christians) and it seems to have remained that way.  Church, a nice meal and gathering with your family and that's about it.  Not too much in the way of commercials and other pop culture impact.
  The year rolls on and other holidays are observed.  Again, days like Memorial Day, 4th of July, Labor Day are all basically the same as I remember from my childhood.  Aside from the fact that 4th of July is my favorite holiday as an adult (Booze, grilling, stuff blowing up.  What's not to love?), these have stayed the course and remained pretty much true to what I remember.
  Then, we hit the fall.  October comes and many peoples favorite adult holiday, Halloween, graces us with it's presence.  Here's where I start to get annoyed about how different things are.  People that are my age and older probably also remember how big of a deal Halloween was in our youths.  There were tons of commercials (like this gem http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x1eLq_yRuFw), every TV show had a great Halloween episode and people decorated their balls off.  Now?  You get maybe a week of themed commercials and a couple of sitcoms have decent episodes that may or may not be loosely Halloween themed.  I think this has a lot to do with the fact that everyone has cable now, and there are networks specifically designed for kids and family.  Whereas when I was a kid, network TV had the responsibility of airing all the greatness of Halloween cartoons, live action comedies, everything.  In turn, the commercials reflected the content of the shows.  Just not the case anymore.     
  Halloween passes, and Thanksgiving approaches.  And other than the madness of the day after sales and the various parades, it barely even registers on the pop culture radar.  It's basically a Sunday in the middle of the week where you eat a fancier meal.  There's no longer the great autumn decorations and warm feelings of everyone starting to deal with the cold, dark winter approaching.  As soon as October is over, Christmas decorations go up.  I can't tell you how many towns I saw with garland and bows on their "Welcome To" signs on November 1st. 
  You would think that with the hyper fast decorating, Christmas would be in pop culture over drive.  But I don't think that's the case.  Sure there's still commercials and TV shows, but it's not the same as it was.  Have you ever thought about the last iconic Christmas movies that came out?  It was probably in the 90's and I couldn't even tell you what it was.  The commercials now are just rabid consumerism and sales, not the great Christmas themed commercials for every single thing that exists (watch this).  I don't know if it's because the world has become too PC for Christmas itself to be acknowledged, or people just don't give a shit about anything but buying stuff.  But I hate it. 
  A lot of this has to do with how different pop culture is now than it was even 10 years ago.  Like I mentioned earlier, everyone has cable TV now, and this has totally changed how television works.  Regular network TV doesn't have to cater to kids and family anymore. The likelihood of a 26 year old single male watching networks that do showcase good old fashioned holiday fun (ABC Family and the like) without making a conscious decision to do so, is not very high.  So I'm pretty much left to my own devices when it comes to holiday cheer. 
  The Internet, however, is one way pop culture has changed for the better for old crabby holiday enthusiasts such as myself.  I can go on YouTube any time I want and enjoy holiday treats of old, and get those warm sentimental feelings I so desire.  I wish I didn't have to seek it out on my own, but with our society being celebrity obsessed and reality TV addicted, that's just how it is.  People would rather watch a shit kicker family raise their weird daughter, or TO jump into a pool than enjoy fine seasonal and/or holiday programming.  
  I may have an overly sentimental attachment to the idea of the holidays, but it makes me happy to be around that stuff when the time is right.  I was fortunate enough to grow up with a wonderful family who spent all of our holidays together.  Whether it was my dad taking my sister and me trick-or-treating, or all the Christmas mornings tearing through gifts and giving out handmade ornaments, I have many fond memories that are fun to relive when the stress of adult holidays weighs on you.  With all these updated ways to celebrate, it's harder and harder for me to get back to those days.  There was a time, as a young adult that I hated the holidays.  But now that I've settled into adulthood, I really enjoy being able to relax and reflect during Christmas or Halloween.  These are the things I think about when I have free time.  I wonder why I don't have a girlfriend?  Give me back my holidays, goddammit.
 

College visits: A mini vacation.

  Here I sit, a 26 year old man with a rather enjoyable life.  I'm mostly glad to be a grown up, really.  Sure I complain about shit, but really the idea that I can do whatever the hell I want sure beats being 15 and at the mercy of someone with a drivers license.  However, there is one thing I really miss from the ages of 18 to 23;  visiting people at college.  It was like a mini vacation, a break in the monotony of my job and life at home.  A chance to go somewhere 3 hrs away and act like a total asshole for two nights, without having to worry about running into people that know my parents.

  The first time I went and visited someone at another college, I was actually away at school myself.  Millikin University was a short trip down ILL 72 to Champaign/Urbana, and I hopped on board with some other guys that were headed there. A lot of people I knew were at U of I and I figured it was a good chance to see some people I hadn't in a few months.  Millikin is a small school, so the first time I went to Champaign was a bit overwhelming.  Just the amount of people, how much nicer my friends dorms were, and, the fact we could actually go to bars was shocking.  I was blown away that all we had to do was pass back the same ID of person that looked nothing like us, and boom, we were in.  Drinking Red Bull and vodka, shots with stupid names, and whatever other garbage 19 year old's drink.  It was great. 

  The next place I really remember visiting was Bradley University.  This was a bit of a different experience because my good friends that went there were in a fraternity.  It's a bit of a different way to party, when you're loosely attached to people in a fraternity.  Generally their brothers treat you really well and you reap a lot of the benefits (chicks, booze, drugs etc) they do.  Bradley was more of a house party scene when we were younger, and it was still great. 

  By the time I was visiting Bradley, my brief but glorious college career had ended.  I continued going to school, but I was at home and going to community college.  With my good friend Will at my side, we started to go on as many college weekend visits as we could.  It was an escape from our totally boring lives.  Seriously, being 19 and 20 while attending school at home is fucking brutal. I can only speak for myself, but I know without Will to go to concerts, drive around and smoke cigarettes with, and tip back brews when we could get 'em, between school visits, I don't know what the fuck I would have done.  

  Things went on like this for our under age years, and they were great.  But I think once we all turned 21, college visits became even better.  You could do all the same stupid stuff, but there was no chance of getting a drinking ticket.  It was like a double bonus.  Plus, by this time everyone lived in an apartment or house, so there was even more freedom to a guy that lives with his parents.  With people in their own places, I was able to wake up earlier than all of them (I worked full time at this point, so I was used to getting up before noon) and smoke weed in the family room.  Something I certainly was not able to do at home.  

  That may have been my favorite part of college visits.  The Saturday after a night of drinking.  Everyone in their pajamas, casually drinking beers all day, sharing stories from the night before, all in preparation to do it again that night.  I remember one time a guy that lived with my friends had brought his sister, who was still in high school to visit for a Friday.  My friends and I were all partaking in the aforementioned Saturday behavior, while she was terrified in her brothers room.  She would only come out to go to the bathroom or get something to drink.  After she closed the door to her brothers room, one of my friends says; "The Asian kids from the brochure are nowhere to be found, this is real college."  This resulted in uproarious laughter and a memory I will have til I'm dead.  

  By the time my friends and I were all 22 or 23, college visits were at their peak.  Between visiting my friend Sean and all the guys he lived with at Bradley, and my 6 buddies that lived together at U of I, it was a guaranteed awesome time.  This isn't even including the schools I visited on a much less frequent basis (Iowa, Illinois State and Western Illinois).  But the Bradley and U of I visits for whatever reason, hold the most memories for me.  But that's not to say I didn't have amazing times at other schools.  

  One particular U of I party comes to mind whenever I think of the glory days of college.  A ton of people showed up.  And things were going great.  But like great college parties do, things got out of hand.  A friend who shall remain nameless decided to throw a Lay-Z-Boy into the front yard, while other friends proceeded to beat the shit out of the innocent chair.  In celebration, the guy who threw the chair, straight up Chuck Norris roundhouse kicked the front window to their own apartment.  The cops happened to driving by at that exact moment.  This lead to scattering, interrogation, but surprisingly, no tickets.  However, it wasn't all seashells and balloons.  Someone stole my favorite Bears sweatshirt and I haven't seen it since.  

  This was par for the course on a good college visit.  Something wild happening with no real consequences, thus resulting in a great story.  Once at Bradley, my friend and I and all his roommates came home after the bar, and just started hitting each other with steel chairs and and empty water cooler bottles.  We woke up the next day unscathed and full of laughs from our stupidity.  I would have to write a novel to describe the all the great times I've had at various schools, but this is just to maybe help some other later 20's people remember a time that they enjoyed.  

  Visiting people at college is something that is gone forever for me.  At least in the way that I'm describing it. But I will always remember how exciting the drives down were, and how awful (especially in the winter) the rides home could be.  The idea that you will be able to walk just about anywhere you needed to go on a party weekend has been replaced by cab rides and L stops, but dammit if I won't always remember it.



Note:  I spent many a great night at North Central College, but I don't lump that under the "college visit" category.  It was 30 minutes away and we were there so often, it was more of just an awesome thing to do on the weekends.

  

House hunting: Touching a bunch of strangers stuff.

  For the last few months, I've really been trying to find a house.  I won't bore you with the details of how completely aggravating the entire process is, and how it seems it will never end.  But, there is an aspect of it that I never really thought about until today: You more or less have a total window into how a complete stranger lives, and access to their things.

  I have looked at a lot of houses, and I can't tell you how many have been vacant, left to rot foreclosures.  It is a window into the last months of what I can only assume is a desperate home owner scrambling to get by, then just saying "FUCK IT", and start ripping out all of the cabinets.  There's generally holes in the walls, missing plumbing fixtures, animal fur all over the place, etc.  Now, there are homes taken care of by the bank and/or Realtor that are quite presentable.  But for everyone of those there are six total shit holes.  It's sad really.  At one point a family lived there, just like mine or yours.  At some point something went terribly wrong.  Maybe they were given a loan they shouldn't have been.  Maybe the breadwinner lost their job.  Whatever the case, they lost their house.  That has to be crushing.  But whatever, fuck 'em.  I'm getting a cheap house out of the deal so hooray for me.  

  What is even more strange, is looking at a house that is currently occupied.  A lot of the time they people clear out so you don't have to see them.  But even so, you're just traipsing around a total strangers house, with access to just about every aspect of their private lives.  If one was so inclined, you could basically have a dick party in a total strangers sock drawer.  If that's the sort of thing you're into.  There has to be people out there that get off on that sort of thing.  Their realtor is downstairs filling out paperwork.  Meanwhile, this guy is balls deep is some poor strangers loofah because he; "had to go check out the upstairs one last time".    Sort of a gross, but plausible thing to consider.

  One thing I did not consider, however, was how big of slobs some people selling their house would be.  I kind of assumed they wanted their houses to be as presentable as possible.  But there are some people that clearly do not give a shit.  Dirty dishes in the sink, laundry on the floor, general kitchen grossness.  You're trying to move a product you lazy asshole, make it look pretty for me.  It's just sort of shocking to me that people have that level of not giving a fuck in them.  

  A lot of the time the messiest houses have the owner on site while you look.  So you have to see the slob that is trying to make you buy their crumby house.  When the people are home, dirty house or not, looking at a house sucks.  You can't make remarks about how awful they have decorated, or really get into being a critical jagoff you need to be to look at a house.  It's really awkward.  

  Looking for a house stops being fun after about a week.  But, if you're bored and want to see how a bunch of strangers live, pretend you're in the market, and go hunting.  It's really the only legal way to dive into the deep end of a multitude of people's personal belongings.  Who knows, you might meet a cool person along the way (I haven't yet).  Or a person that you are totally convinced is a serial killer (I have).

  

  

  

Things I see on the internet that make my brain hurt.

  For every thing I find on the internet that brings me enjoyment, there are a plethora of things that make my blood boil with misplaced rage.  Anyone who has read any of my previous blogs can probably see that a lot of things in the world at large bother me more than they should.  But with that said, here are a few things I have seen on the internet machine that make my brain explode.

-In my journey through the world of internet based pornography, there's a trend I noticed that kind of blows my mind.  The women who star in these films (maybe the men too, but I doubt it) make Amazon.com wish lists of random items they would like for their fans to buy them.  AND PEOPLE FUCKING DO IT!  It's not enough that if you're at a point where you have seen their wish list, you have most likely paid money to watch them blow six dudes, but they want you to buy them a fucking sweatshirt too.  Now, I don't at all blame the women for taking advantage of getting free stuff.  Fuck, if someone wanted to buy me a bunch of new fishing rods and pairs of sneakers because they enjoyed my work, I'd take the fuck outta that.
  My main problem is trying to wrap my head around what the logic of the dudes that buy this stuff for porn stars.  They aren't going to fly to Ft. Wayne IN and fuck you, you stupid gomer.  You're being played for a sucker.  Knock it off!  You're making other dudes who watch porn look bad.  Save your money and get a classy escort.

-How have people not picked up on Facebook "like" viruses yet?  There's never anything good on the other end of a video that says; "You're never going to believe what she does next!  Click to find out!"  Also, do you really want to see a spider lay eggs in someones face?  If it looks sketchy, it probably is.

-Thirsty ass dudes on Facebook.  If you're going to take the time to come up with some thinly veiled sexual advance as a response to a girls dumb status about how she hates her job (EVERYBODY HATES THEIR FUCKING JOB), you're a mark.  Don't reward stupidity because you want to get your dick wet.  It makes the world a worse place to live.  I guess girls probably do this too, but I think they are smart enough to know how little effort they have to put in to enticing a guy to sleep with them.

-Pinterest.  I have never been on it, and I will probably never go on it, but I think it's dumb.  I find things I like the old fashioned way, BY LOOKING FOR THEM.

Things that I would like to see happen to people in commercials.

Often times while I'm watching TV I have a lot of thoughts running through my head.  Generally the thought is; "OH MY GOD I FUCKING HATE COMMERCIALS."  So, here are a few things I would like to see happen to people in commercials I don't like.

1)  There's a Jimmy Johns commercial where a guy is in an air plane that is delayed for some reason or another.  Unfortunately for him, his seat is sandwiched in between two large men, making for an uncomfortable wait.  That is the first thing wrong with this commercial, the two guys.  Who the fuck are these guys supposed to be?  They have on these ridiculous "gangster" outfits that consist of graphic hoodies and sideways hats.  What?  Why?  Why can't they just be two big dudes?  Fuck whoever wrote this commercial.  Finally, the man in the uncomfortable situation decides the best remedy for this problem is ordering a sandwich from JJ's.  So, suddenly, there is a knock at the air plane door, and lo and behold a Jimmy Johns delivery girl with the guys Beach Club.  What I would like to see happen next, is the delivery girl get tackled by a TSA agent and tazed.  Then thrown in the can because she probably broke a fuck ton of laws getting on that tarmac and opening and air plane door after it was closed or whatever. 

2)  Taco Bell has an advertisement for their new Dorito tacos, in which a young man, probably close to my age drives over 900 miles in order to try said tacos.  Fuck that guy.  He is an embarrassment to my generation of human beings.  I eat fast food as much as anyone, but I would NEVER drive more than 5 minutes to get a taco from Taco Bell.  What I would like to see happen in this commercial, is the car filled with this asshole and his friends drive off a goddamn cliff.

3)  Anyone in the AT&T commercials that says something like; "That was so 10 seconds ago..." should get hit in the head with a hammer.  Don't fucking talk to me like that.  I asked you a question.  I'm a grown ass man and I expect you to answer me like one.

4)  I hope something generally bad happens to the T Mobile girl.  I don't like her, and I don't really have a good reason.

5)  Match.com can go eat a dick too.  The people in those commercials are not using online dating.  They look far too attractive and successful.  People that use dating sites are, well, people like me.  I hope each and everyone of those beautiful people end up married and in horrible relationships, but won't get divorced because they are Catholic. 

There's so much more television vitriol running through my veins, but I'll save it for another time. This all makes me seem like an angry hateful person.  I'm mostly not that.  TV just makes me angry.  I should probably watch less.

A letter to day drinking.

Dear Day Drinking,

You're just the tops.  This past Saturday I was able to become reacquainted with you, after some time apart.  It's getting closer to the time of year where we spend most of our time together.  So I look forward to sun drenched days of shot-gunning beers with no shirt on.  I know that's when you think I'm at my best.  Remember when I turned 20, and me and my friends taught you to swim?  We had just met and you were afraid at first, but you got the hang of it in no time.  As that summer went on, we hung out more and more.  My parents accepted our friendship, as well as your bond with my other friends.  I can't wait to continue our great relationship, and listen to Cubs games, eat a ridiculous amount of meat, probably end up sending some texts/making some phone calls we regret.  But hey, what's a good friend if you can't cause a little trouble with them?  I'll have my own house this spring or summer, and I can't wait for us to hang out there.  There will be a whole new world for us to explore.  Well, I have to get going.  Can't wait to see you again.

With love,

  Derek E Self

Pumping iron, bro.

  The last month I have been much more determined to get my health in order.  Not that I have something wrong with me, like a diagnosed disorder or something, I'm just tired of being fat.  So that being said, I have upped my normal once or twice a week trip to the gym to four or five.  Spending more time there, my disdain for other people has grown more and more each time.  Here are a few things that I think would make the gym less irritating:

1)  When you're in the locker room, don't take for-fucking-ever to do stuff.  Get changed and get the fuck out.  There's other people waiting to shower and get changed, and I don't really feel like standing there naked while you read your text messages from your shitty girlfriend who's probably cheating on you.

2) While most things in the locker room should be done quickly, with Navy Seal like precision, there is one thing you certainly shouldn't do fast: turn a corner.  There's fuckin' naked dudes in here man.  Bumping dicks with some guy is not on my list of things to do today.  So always make wide, deliberate turns when approaching corners. 

3) Don't worry about what the fuck anyone else is doing.  Don't look at my treadmill to see how fast I'm going, or what incline I'm at.  Mind your own fucking business.  Don't fucking eyeball me while I lift weights with a look on your face like; "That guy is big, but I can shoulder press more..."  I'm not there to impress you asshole.

4) While minding your own business, keep in mind the majority other people there are doing just that.  Don't do anything to draw attention to yourself, like scream really loud or something else fucking retarded.  If you do that, you're an asshole and I hope you get a knife in the dick.  Now, everyone, including myself, understands that if you're really exerting yourself, you might inadvertently let out some noise.  Fine.  But we all know that I'm talking about those jagoff's who bench 275 for three reps and scream like the just caught a golf shoe to the balls.

5) Respect other peoples space.  This is on the gym floor, and in the locker room.  Wait a goddamn second to move so you don't bump into me while I'm in the middle of a fucking exercise.  If there is room for you to leave an elliptical machine between us, don't go on the one right next to me.  Say excuse me when you need to get by (this goes for anywhere, including bars). 
  In the locker room, I think this is pretty self explanatory.  We're naked dudes, standing in close proximity to one another, give me a little breathing room.  If it's crowded, wait a minute for it to clear out, so we can have ample space to do what we need to do (people following #1 would help this greatly).

6) There's no reason for you to walk around with a duffel bag with all of your supplements, chalk, various straps and wristgaurds.  Get a goddamn locker.  Nobody thinks you're cooler because you went to GNC and bought NO Explode.  All your bag is going to do is make me trip and look like an asshole.

7) Finally, one for the laaaaaaaaaaaaadieeeeeeees:  Don't be attractive with a great butt and go on the treadmill directly in front of me.  Please.  It's distracting and I feel like a creep, because I have no choice but to look at it.

That's all I have for now.  As much as this makes me sound like I hate the gym, I'm really glad I'm back at it.  I feel physically and mentally better than I've felt in a while.  Hopefully people at the gym I go to stumble on to this and I won't have as many people to be irritated by.

Having a mustache.

  I have the ability, like most men of my age, to grow facial hair.  Facial hair is great.  You can grow beards, mustaches, sideburns, mustaches connected to sideburns.  The list goes on.  I think though, for reasons I don't understand, my favorite facial hair I have had to date, is my current mustache.
  Now, the mustache that currently adorns the space between my nose and my mouth was grown as a motivator to lose weight.  I figured that since the mustache isn't the generally the most socially accepted form of facial hair for a 25 year old lad such as myself, I would punish myself by having one until my fat ass dropped 25 pounds.  And while I'm doing OK on my drive to make myself healthier (for now), I started to think that mustache as a motivator was kind of fucked up. 
  What the fuck is wrong with a mustache?  Great men throughout history have had mustaches (See:  Mike Ditka, Joel Quennville, Tom Selleck, Lemmy Kilmeister, Billy D Williams), but at some point the mustache became a symbol of depravity.  I attempted doing some google research on this, but was just linked to blogs about creepy mustaches and why women hate mustaches on young men.  WELL FUCK YOU WOMEN.  I am keeping this fucker until I see fit.
  There's an entirely different aspect to mustaches stereotyping;  the gay part.  Apparently at some point in history a ton of gay dudes thought it was a great idea to grow mustaches.  Maybe it was a thing to help them identify one another, I don't know.  All I know is that there's nothing gay about my mustache.  It's not a bigot or anything, it's probably friends with gay mustaches, it is just not gay itself.  I don't know, maybe it is gay.  Maybe after I go to bed it leaves my upper lip and goes clubbing on Halsted. 
  All I do know for sure is that I like my mustache.  I have had them in the past as jokes, or for "irony", but I've grown to think that I look OK with it.  As recently as yesterday I was referring to it as "my gross mustache", but I've had a change of heart.  It probably has something to do with my dad having a mustache my entire life.  My dad rules (that's another blog in and of itself), and if also having a mustache makes me more like him, great.  But I don't really give a fuck if people think I look creepy or weird, I like it.  I'm not trying to "bring the mustache back" or anything like that, but I'm not 86ing the thing because people don't like it. 

  So in summation, grow whatever facial hair your little heart desires.  I know I will.

Thoughts on "Kidnergarten Cop" 22 years later

  "Kindergarten Cop" is a great movie.  I really enjoy it even to this day.  But as I watch this movie as an adult, there are several things that seem really strange.  First off, Det. John Kimball disintegrates a couch with a shot gun, but that's really just the tip of the iceberg.
  What the shit is the deal with this town?  Astoria, Oregon is full of divorced women that are all apparently in heat.  First, all the moms assume that Kimball is gay, because he is a kindergarten teacher (because no self respecting hetero would want to try and get kids on the right track from a young age).  But as soon as John comes strolling in with his rippling biceps all the single moms are drenched and want nothing more than to get pounded out by this massive Austrian.  I suppose that divorce is very prevalent all across the United States, but at one point the town is referred to as the "single parent capital".  I'm supposed to believe that this sleepy little town in Oregon is the ravaged by divorce more so than let's say, LA or Chicago?  I call bullshit.  Not only that, but that all the divorced women want nothing more than to get down with a guy they just met 20 minutes ago.  What terrifically responsible mothers.  This dude's buddy is probably going to ransack your house while you're getting slayed, steal your valuables, and sell your kid on the black market.
  Then there's the kids.  At least 80% of the kindergarten aged kids are fucking weirdos.  The one kid has a father who is a gyno, that tells him the ins and outs of the human anatomy on a daily basis.  Which he feels the need to share with each new person that he meets.  The creepy twins (who are the real life version of Cheri and Teri from The Simpsons) are informed by their mother that their father is "a real sex machine"  Gross.  I guess that's proof that not just the divorced women in Astoria thoroughly enjoy getting pounded out.  There's the fat kid who thinks its OK to just get down on every other kids lunch (I've been a fat kid my whole life, and this have never seemed OK to me).  One of the kids has bags under his eyes.  What fucking 6 year old has enough stress in their life to cause them to not get enough sleep?  This same kid is also obsessed with death and assumes Kimball's headache is caused by a brain tumor.  Weirdo.  How about the kid with the slutty mom who uses dolls to look up girls skirts?  He's going to be a real winner!  The rest of the kids just seem pretty creepy and gross.  Except for the girl that was in "Beethoven", she's alright.
  Finally, there's Crisp.  He might be the worst bad guy ever.  No one with that stupid of a pony tail has ever been a bad ass.  Also, he's totally bangin' his mom (who is just the real life version of Cruella Deville).  The guy just sucks in general.  If I was going to use Richard Tyson (the actor who plays Crisp), it wouldn't be as a bad ass tough guy, he would play a child molester or rapist.  He is probably both of those things now, because I haven't seen him in any move since.
  The only thing I have no beef with at all in this movie, is Det. Pheobe O'Hara.  She's a good egg.

Attainable baller goals for 2012

If you know me, you know that I really like rap music.  Being a white dork from the suburbs doesn't really allow me to act like a baller all that much (the fact that I don't make millions of dollars probably doesn't help either).  But after having a discussion with my mans Dan Kricke, I decided to make a list of things that are moderately baller that I can achieve this year.  These aren't really in any particular order, and I'll probably add to it as I go along.

1)  Pop a bottle of champagne in a bar that's going nuts while "Ima Boss" plays loud as fuck.

2)  Be fat and have mad bitches be all over me.  This will involve going somewhere stupid and taking as much cash out of my bank account with out bankrupting myself.

3)  Wear a dress shirt, open, with no undershirt and a giant chain.  I'm assuming I can buy a chain and return it the next day, as long as I don't ruin it.

4)  Beat someone up while a Dipset song plays in the background.

5)  Smoke weed in a luxury automobile.

6)  Go to an expensive restaurant, totally not in dress code and not get let in.  Only to make the Matre D look like an asshole after flashing a shit load of thuggin' money (building engineers are total thugs, trust me). 

7)  Have a party in a penthouse suite of a fancy hotel.

8)  Have sex in a limo.

9)  Eat lobster for breakfast.

10)  Get a candid photo taken with someone who is actually a baller.