Well, crap

REM played Colbert last night. They played a song about crying. It's new, pretty blah, and I wish I'd never heard it. Not because I'm afraid to cry (ahem, x-tian), but because Michael, Peter and Michael look to be about 70 years old (on average - Stipe looks 90, the others look 60). McCain old. Grim Reaper old.

So now I'm old, which sucks. I remember when Swan Swan Hummingbird was sung by cool people. I realize now this is not at all different than remembering when a Happy Meal was $.05. At worst, this makes me a grumpy old man, and at best, just old. I can listen to all the cool new kids I can find, but until I forget that Life's Rich Pageant rocked, I'm stuck.

Thankfully I've got this blog to make me cool - right Manolo?

Literally Off the Virtual Charts

Message to Manolo - I blog like I Wii. Time to step your game up.

It's Who I Am

Evil

I notice subtleties now that I never would have when I was a younger guy. In fact, some things I can’t not notice, even if I tried. The size of a person’s pupils, for example. During the morning commute, when we’re shoved against each other on the subway while trying our best to remain anonymous, I steal glances at people’s faces and always take note of their pupils. People with large or just dilated pupils are generally seen as more attractive – scientific studies have shown this.

When I meet a girl, whether at work, at a bar, or on a proper date, I immediately gauge the size of their pupils as a benchmark. I do this without hardly a thought – it’s more like a reflex. On a date, such an observation matters. If you place your hand on the small of a girl’s back and her pupils dilate, it means something. If you move in close to a girl, so close that you’re practically breathing each other’s air, and her pupils dilate, she’s telling you something – just without words.

What a girl does with her hands is also telling. What she does with her feet – even more so. (People have more conscious control over their hands, less so over their feet.) I’m a much more observant person now. I can pick up on hints and nuances. Dates tend to go better now, versus years ago when every first date doubled as a lesson in a new aspect of awkwardness.

But I feel as though the me of today is not as good a person to know, compared to the me of yesteryear. All the tidbits of knowledge that I’ve picked up, I basically use to manipulate. With me, it’s always a game. There’s never not a game. Even when only one person (me) is playing, it’s still Game On.

I was at dinner with Xtian and La Troisieme a few months ago. At one point, I doled out some advice that La Troisieme found to be utterly shocking and possibly immoral. I said, “If she cooks you dinner -- no matter what -- do not compliment her on the cooking.” Why not? Because it’s a game. If you withhold the compliment, you’re implicitly expressing disapproval. And when a girl likes you (and you already know that she does because she went to the considerable effort of preparing an entire meal for you), she tries hard to gain your approval. So if you don’t give it to her, she tries harder. If not by cooking, then by some other means. You win.

People oftentimes tell me, “You have a nice smile.” A common variation of that, and I hear it with regularity, is “Your smile is very sincere.”

Years ago, I would tell a girl she looked nice if I thought she looked nice. Maybe it was the first warm day after a chilly winter and she was wearing a flowery spring dress to meet me at brunch. Maybe I’d bring her some sweets, because on the way to brunch, I happened across a bakery displaying a swath of ornately decorated cookies in their window and the flower cookie just looked so happy and fun and appropriate for a day that beckons the coming of spring. Years ago, I’d buy things, say things, do things “just because” or just to be nice. I can’t remember the last time I felt that way. It’s been a while. But at the same time, I no longer feel lost around women. I know what to say. I know how to act. It’s all an act. It’s all a game. The scoreboard says I’m winning, but I don’t know if I’m having any fun.

L$$ Gr$$nwood Craps His Pants

Whoa - Lee Greenwood must be crapping his pants right now. Kristy Lee Cook, our own barrel horse riding, apple pie eating singing sensation just blew America away with "God Bless the USA" on American Idol. This is the sort of thing that musicians must dream of. Who gives a crap about Lee Greenwood? This morning, no one did. Now, everyone will. I don't know much about the economics of the music business, but I bet Lee Greenwood sure could use a royalty check these days. He should sit down tonight and write a nice long letter to Kristy thanking her for making him a star again. It's a safe bet that by this time tomorrow you won't be able to find any Lee Greenwood CDs left at your local WalMart. Maybe next week David Archuleta will drop some Glenn Campbell on us!!!

You Decide!

When I was younger, DC Comics did something really innovative. People were not responding to the second Robin, Jason Todd. Not knowing what to do, the editors took drastic action. In issue 427 of Batman, they had the Joker beat him bloody with a crowbar and then blow up the building he was in. The last page of the issue (pictured here) offered two numbers. Dial the first if you wanted Robin to live, dial the second if you wanted him to die. Needless to say the fan boys spoke and issue 428 found Batman pulling Robin's bloody corpse out of the rubble. End the story of Robin II.

Evil and I had a mind meld and agreed that something like this could work on the Hose. Now that Killer B has joined our ranks and we are in a recession, Evil and I are thinking about doing a little house cleaning. Item number 1 here is to figure out if we need to trim the fat at all. We weren't sure who to get rid of, but we are leaning towards Manolo. This week's poll is our attempt to make this a referendum about Manolo. You tell us if he stays or if he goes...

Good luck Manolo...you'll need it.

Irrational Disdain

Evil

Are there qualities in other that you disdain? However irrational it may be?

I hate lispers. Even thinking about lispers makes me mad. That is wrong, I know. I can't help it. I'm sure I have more like this. Will post as I think of them. Share yours!

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Revision note: original post used "distain" instead of "disdain." This would not happen to me if I were not a child of immigrants! Thanks to Evil Twin #1 for correcting me.

The People Have Spoken

Thank you, voters!

How exciting! I'm not alone! You all think that Evil is simultaneously putting on d-bag airs and very gay.

It's like y'all know him as well as I do!

Hey. New Guy Here.

The ink is dry. The deal is done. I couldn't be happier.

My previous blogging experience was a real burnout, but after meeting with Evil, xTian and Mamacita last night over a few bottles of wine I realized this would be totally different. I'm really jazzed to join The Hose. They've made a great decision, and have a great font.

When I was in 3rd grade a new kid, Jason Something, joined our school. His novelty (Canadian) wore off quickly, and eventually we made fun of him just like the other dorks. I hope this doesn't turn out like that.

The Hose Family grows by 1

Evil, Manolo, The Mamacita, ET #1 and #2 and the rest of the Hose family would like to take a moment away from our intense negotiations to congratulate Balls and Mrs Balls Mahoney on the addition of Baby Balls to their family. Don't worry baby, we'll protect you from your crazy uncle, Mass-Hole.

Major Announcement Forthcoming

Evil and I are locked in a room right now with a major new talent, trying to ink him to a multi-post deal...the federal reserve has just entered the room and is pressing us to get a deal done before the opening bell on Monday.

(Wow, these guys are suddenly interfering in everything...gotta fight off that recession.)

After we get this deal done, we're going after this girl. Check out what she says starting at the 6 minute mark. WHAT A PERFORMER!

Interesting (or not)

A few weeks ago, I noticed Evil went to drinks with a TA we shared. I thought nothing of it. It took me a while to remember the TA and once I did, I remembered that I thought he we was a self hating Latino.

Later, I noticed that Evil started an email correspondence with with another Latino from our University days, a guy I sort of liked. In fact I did not cut him off for quite some time. I remember exactly when I did though. Kentak3 and I went to dinner with him and about 1/3 of the way through, no one had anything to say. My brother, not comfortable with silence, pulled out a deck of cards and shuffled...for what felt like an eternity, but was at most an hour. Kentak3 and I agreed this was not a good use of our time and stopped meeting up with this cat for dinner.

This week, Evil got all these people in an email chain along with me and another fellow, who's claim to fame was sitting in a computer lab eating bags of chips till he fell asleep at a terminal.

It seems Evil is trying to get together a crew of CS people we went to college with. The question is, why? What is his game? I don't think he's spoken to any of these people since University. I once bore witness to Evil assuming the persona of a wrestler the Hurricane and infuriating a former coworker who he had not spoken to in several years. What drama is he hoping to create?

I have a theory. I think for possibly the first time in his life, my brother is comfortable in his own skin. It's true and I'm happy for him. The question that remains is - what are the implications? What am I being invited along to bear witness to? Maybe I'm just a prop? Here's the worst case scenario, as near as I can figure it:

Evil shows up to dinner, at say Kobe Club, in a Ferragamo tie and his transition lens and rubbing his success in everyone's face.

"Oh, you're still programming? Why hasn't someone like xtian figured out how to outsource you to India yet?" He will ask while staring at his well manicured nails.

I shudder at the thought.

I wonder how long this will go on? Who else will fall prey? PDM? JoDo? I swear to god Evil, if I find myself at a dinner party sitting across from Jizzy Bae, you and I will have problems.

At what point do we switch gears and start focusing on the cute two cute girls who majored in CS - the one with the good feet and the one with the nice smile. Call me for that party.

Scenes From My Cameraphone

Evil

Guess who sat two rows in front of me on my flight from New York to Ft. Lauderdale? Geraldine Ferraro! Surprisingly, she sat in coach. In a middle seat, no less. Poor Geraldine Ferraro. Maybe she would have gotten upgraded if she were black. Because everyone knows that blacks in this country have all the luck.

Best. Video. Ever

Scenes From My Cameraphone

Evil


Check out this cuh-raaaaaay-zee old lady that I spotted at Starbucks. Not only did she fall asleep in public, she's got a cart full of plastic bags and random papers.

The iPhone Girl

Evil

“I was inclined to kiss you,” she wrote in her email. I had asked her to clarify whether it was she who kissed me, or I who kissed her. And that was her response. Although she prefaced it with a suggestion that it matters little who initiated the kiss.

Facebook brings a lot of little surprises. Most are neither good nor bad. Insignificant, I’d say. But once in a while you make a potential connection, or in this case, re-connection. The iPhone Girl and I sort of let ourselves lose touch after that dinner. I might have been too busy or too lazy at the time to make anything of it. Or maybe it was her? But, now connected on Facebook, we made plans to meet at one of my favorite wine bars in the city.

I was hoping it wouldn’t rain, but the weather forecast got it right that day. By afternoon, the clouds swirled and thickened. By early evening, the rains started and showered the streets steadily, though not heavily. When you’re looking forward to seeing someone and it rains, it sort of feels like the event is all rained out before it even started.

She arrived a couple of minutes after I had already staked out a spot near the bar. She flung off her hat and tossed her hair a bit to shake off the raindrops. Though I’m not always very observant about these things, I took notice that she had lightened her hair since last summer. The medium brown suits her well. Her eyes are large, the thing I remember most about her. The thing I remember liking best when we first met.

“I think I’ll try the Kangarilla,” she declared after pondering the wine list for only a few moments. “It sounds like a small, but vicious kangaroo.”

We talked, that evening, as if it were our first meeting, our first date. Which made me wonder briefly what we talked about on our actual first date. Was it that unmemorable? Or maybe our first date had just seeded our familiarity with each other, making the second date less awkward… more comfortable.

She told me later that the evening had such a cozy feel to it. That stepping out of the rain and into tightly packed wine bar made her feel warm, and safe, and comfortable.

Clarification!

Evil

Here on The Hose, it's not always easy to tell the difference between reality and imagination. Such is the subtle beauty of our blog. But I need to clarify a piece of fact: I AM NOT considering buying those stupid Transitions lenses. XTIAN made that up.

I did, however, buy a couple of Ferragamo ties recently. What's the problem with that? Most of my dress shoes are from Ferragamo too.

the hell?

I choose me !?!?!?!

A few months ago, I was in bed feeling insecure. I said something that reflected this insecurity. The woman next to me said, sarcastically,

"yeah you're so ugly."
"i know"
"You're crazy. Also, you don't believe that. You are completely comfortable naked. if you did believe that you would not be so comfortable"

A few weeks ago, I went to a benefit to raise money for my little cousins' cycling team. Their grandfather is now married to the woman who was the head guidance councilor at my high school when I was there. We spent a few minutes speaking. Later, she went up to my aunt and started remarking how attractive and nice I was and how it was shocking that I had evolved into such a man from the stoner/goth wannabe of my youth. At one point my aunt had to tell her to calm down as she was so worked up by my awesomeness.

When I was 22, I got drunk, and declared to Sparkes: "Screw these flighty b*tches. I am going to be the most awesome 30 year old ever" and i set about the business of making that true. I stopped weighing 300lbs, I spent an inordinate amount of time on hair and manicuring. I developed a "look" - clothing wise, that is professional, modern, youthful and vaguely rebellious. I pretty much did everything except get it thru my demented head that I could no longer be compared to silent bob or the comic book guy from the Simpsons.

When I first met ET #2, I spent an inordinate amount of time fishing for complements. She was would call BS often and say things like "You're fishing for compliments". Tough love, your name is ET #2.

I was recently telling all this to my mother, and blaming her for never encouraging me to believe in myself. She labored through the conversation before admitting that it was really hard to be a mother to such a headcase, she then handed me off to my father, who could not be bothered to hear my complaints and compared himself favorably to Rudolph Valentino before hanging up.

Random Rules For Social Acceptability

Evil



Was on the R train the other night. It wasn't very crowded, so it was easy to spot a guy sitting on one of those two-seaters in the corner. He was flailing his hands feverishly. He was air drumming, much like the guy in the above video. He looked like a total tool, but I think in his own mind, he must have thought he looked pretty cool.

Why is "air drumming" socially acceptable anyway? The rules for this stuff seem random to me. Like, if you saw some dude on the subway wailing on air guitar, you'd be like, that's crazy.

At the office, once in a while, I see people practicing their golf swing... sans golf club. So I guess you can say it's "air golf." But dude, no one does any "air dribbling," "air running back," or "air stealing second base."

I mentioned this to XTIAN the other day, and he immediately asked why "air masturbation" (including making the "ooooooooooo" face) isn't more acceptable.

Transitions Lenses

Evil

Have you seen the commercials for Transitions lenses? They're the glasses lenses that automatically darken when exposed to sunlight. So when you're indoors, they're regular glasses. But when you're out in the sun, they're sunglasses.

Do you know anyone who owns Transitions lenses? If you do, I have an important question to ask you all... Is that person a douche bag or what? The way I figure, you pretty much need to be a major douche to be so pretentious as to own these stupid lenses.