Rule #7: All Holidays Should Run Sundown to Sundown

As our chosen friends start the Rosh Hashanah holiday today, nicknamed "Rush-a Home-a" by my friend Kara (at least she was the first one to say it to me), those of us who are not members of the tribe get to sit at our desks with envy in our hearts as friends head to the subway at 3:30 or so.  So I am rushing to get this out so folks can read it before they lose the light.

L'Shana Tova everyone!

From an outsider's perspective, sundown to sundown holidays are COOL!  You get to leave home or school early, you do the family stuff for a day or two, then you have the next night FREE!  It makes every holiday a holiday-and-a-half.  And, really, isn't that what holidays are all about?  They're not about family, celebrating good times, commemorating bad times, coming home from college trying to finally sleep with that one special person who ignored you all through high school, or food.  They're about not being at work or school.  So we should maximize this!

The holidays that have "eve's" with them kinda of do this.  However, wouldn't it be better if Christmas Eve started at sundown December 23?  Especially as sundown would be around 4:30 in the afternoon (where I live, at least).  You'd get all day the 24th at home (or, shopping, let's face it), at 4:30p on the 24th IT'S CHRISTMAS!!!!  Having Santa show up in the mid-afternoon would be incentive to get kids to nap.  Presents are opened when you are fully awake!  No screaming children at 5:30a going "GET UP GET UP GET UP!!!"  They play for a bit, everyone goes to sleep, and when they get up the next morning (the 25th) they don't have to bother you - they've got a ton of new toys to play with.

Perhaps even better than all this?  After dark on the 25th YOU'RE DONE!!!  You are free to catch up with friends, catch a ballgame, see if you can find that one special person who ignored you all through high school, or drink yourself into a small brown liquid.  And still be able to make it to work the next day.

The most important holiday for this is, of course, the Super Bowl.  We time the beginning of the ACTUAL pregame (not the 7 hours before that) with sundown, play the game, and then get most of the next day to recover.  What could make more sense?

Rule #6: Men's Departments Are Designed by Morons

We all have times when we feel insecure about various parts of our existence.  "I sound like a fucking moron today."  "My hair looks like shit (a problem I've not had to deal with for a while now)."  "I feel my place in the universe could be better manned by a semi-trained chimpanzee with a social disorder."

But whenever my insecurity manifests itself as "I don't feel that smart" I remedy it by going to the men's section of a department store.  Two minutes there and I feel like a genius.

I'm not going to complain about the questionable fashions, the staff who make the Tea Party look like Rhodes Scholars, or the decor.  The specific complaint here is how the clothes are laid out.

If you are looking for shirts or pants, the Mensa members who organized the department have decided to put the clothes on the shelves in ascending order by size.  So, they have put the smaller sizes on the top, and the bigger sizes on the bottom.

This means that the men with 32" inseams or sleeves, whom we can assume are between 5'0" and 5'8", have to stand on their tiptoes to look at the merchandise.  Meanwhile, those of us with 36" inseams and 37" sleeves (if you want the rest of my measurements send me a message - Christmas is coming!), who range from 6'0" to Shaquille O'Neal, have to squat down on the filthy, thin carpet desperately hoping to find a pair of Dockers that fit.

The worst part of this?  EVERY department store does it!!!  Not ONE has figured out to put the tall people's clothes at the top, and the smaller people (is "short" a derogatory term?) on the bottom.

I dunno - maybe they just like making all of us look like a mediocre circus act with no rigging, net, or tights.  It makes more sense than thinking that no one's figured this out.  Right?

The only thing I've seen that makes less sense than this was at a hotel in the Poconos in the mid-90s.  I was doing a stand-up show out there, and to kill time before we went on I loitered in the hotel gift shop.  They had movies for rent there.  And they arranged them so that the kiddie vids were on the top shelf, and the porn was on the bottom - right where the kids could see it.  Which I can assume led to scenes like this:

Rule #5: Online Dating Profiles Must Be Completed While Drunk

I have filled out one online dating service profile in my life.  And I was half-drunk when I did.  OK, maybe more than half.  Frankly, I'm not sure I remember how drunk I was.  I neither vomited nor texted an ex, so that's something.  I did, however, watch the same SportsCenter at least three times before realizing it was the same (man, how many goals did the Devils give up tonight?!?).

It wasn't this bad.

Anyway, I found the experience as humiliating, degrading, and boring as I find all of dating.  But being a bit lubricated did free me to answer as honestly as I ever will.  Especially when it's a series of multiple choice questions (Do you like kittens?  Yes/No//Only as an appetizer, not a full meal). And I think this should be done by the entire planet.

Isn't the most important thing to know about a potential partner how she or he reacts with her/his guard down?  Our friend Mr. Booze makes it happen!  How better to expose yourself emotionally than with the same chemical people drink before exposing themselves physically?  Maybe you'll even post the pictures taken of you under the influence of said chemical on the site!  This can only lead to "more dates, more engagements, and more marriages."

BTW, when eHarmony makes that claim, is it safe to say that they've also led to more bitter break-ups, divorces, and sexual assaults than another other site?  Just want to see the math on this.

Rule #4: You Cannot Wear a Frat Party T-shirt After Graduation

For the past 16 years or so I've lived in Kips Bay, generally considered the most boring neighborhood in all of Manhattan, if not the entire city of New York.

How boring is it?  When the Borders closed in the Spring the neighborhood lost it's only bookstore, CD store, video store, AND the only coffee shop that is NOT a Starbucks (future rule will involve where Starbucks can stick its dark roast).  The New York Press' "Best of Manhattan" issue two years back highlighted a local bar (since closed) for having "The Best Drink Special in a Neighborhood You'd Never Visit."  When they had the Manhattan maps in cabs, Kips Bay was an unlabelled gray area between Murray Hill and Gramercy Park (which is fairly accurate now that I think about it).

The 'hood used to be Armenian, but the only remaining evidence is two churches who I hear hate each other more than they hate people who deny they had their own holocaust. For the past 7 or so years, however, the neighborhood has been zoned for one type of person only.

Douchebags.

 (Note - do NOT Google Image "frat boys" with Safe Search off at work.

Unless you work at Splash on 17th Street.)

Gaggles of unthinking white people graze 3rd Avenue every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday night, trying to figure out which of 10 identical bars has more people who look, think, and sound exactly like they do.  

• Average age 24.3
• Average salary $46,000
• Average dress size 2.3
• Average IQ 74.6

And, they have invaded my apartment building (GET OFF MY LAWN!!!!!).  I think I am one of the few people left who's apartment is not being paid for by "daddy."  It got so bad that my building posted a note saying extra security was being added weekend nights, and that residents should stop leaving BudLite cans in the front hall (someone did scribble on one note "or we'll tell the RA on you!").

Thanks to this demographic I have been privileged to read about Spring Flings, Toga Parties, Beer Pong Tournaments, and other highlights of the SEC social calendar from the mid-2000s on the chests and backs of my neighbors.  I have neither the energy, nor the ability to defend myself against someone half my age, to explain to these folks that wearing a frat party t-shirt is the equivalent of saying "I was present at a date rape."

And to wear it after you've entered the "real world" (or as "real" as Kips Bay gets) says that nothing you have done in your life since graduation has meant a thing.  To anyone.  On planet Earth.

Which, I must admit, makes you fit in well in Kips Bay.

There is, of course, one exception.  If you are wearing this shirt while everything else you own is in a canvas bag and you are heading to the laundry room, fine.  Hell, I wear Nets playoff t-shirts from the days when the Nets not only made the playoffs, but actually won games in them, on laundry day.  And occasionally under my softball uniform shirt.

"But what about the gym?" I hear you ask.  Nah.  That's saying "hey, I am so far beyond my college days that I can sweat in this shirt and not care...but I still want you to know that I was a party ANIMAL not too long ago.  Wanna' go see Coldplay?"

Rule #3: Wedding Receptions Must START With the Throwing of the Bouquet

I defy any straight man to say this hasn't happened to him.

You're at a wedding.  Attractive woman, no date, is sitting at your table, or a table of a friend, or all the way across the room and you pretend you have to go to the bathroom just to walk by her table so many times that everyone at your table tells you to call a urologist.  You talk with her.  For about two hours.  Maybe some dancing.  Things seem great.

Then, the DJ/band leader asks for all the single women to head to the dance floor, it's time to throw the bridal bouquet.  And the woman you've been speaking to just stands there.

"Aren't you going up?"

"What?  Oh, no, I'm not...my husband couldn't make it today.  He's a) closing a multi-million dollar deal; b) parachuting into a hostage situation; c) starting for the Packers tomorrow and is on a flight to Tampa Bay - you should watch the game!"

This is, of course, immediately followed by your seeing the really beautiful woman from your table, who you were sure was there with her husband, elbowing her way to the front of the group on the floor, injuring several bridesmaids and a flower girl.  10 minutes after this you're waving good-bye to the bride and groom, and your chances of finding a moving and lovely experience with one of God's greatest creatures, or just a quick handjob by the coat check.

The solution is simple.  Have the bouquet toss at the beginning of the reception.  Let us all know who the single women are BEFORE we get to the salad course.  And, for fairness, have the garter toss then too, if you're doing that - and if not just have all the single guys line up and the DJ can say "here they are - sorry ladies, that's it.  But maybe you can take home one of the waiters."

I know someone reading this is going to be upset.  He or she is going to say "you make it sound like the only reason you would talk to a woman at a wedding is to sleep with her."

Two replies.  One, no - but I should know early on whether that's on the table.  Two, it's a WEDDING!!!  That's what they're for!!!  Weddings do not exist for two people to announce to their friends and relatives that they plan to stick together for at least the foreseeable future, and thank you for the blender.  They are for their friends to get laid.  Wedding Crashers was a documentary!

Rule #2: No More Musicals Based on Shitty-to-Mediocre Movies

Let's face it, no one who saw "Legally Blonde" thought "you know, this would be even better if it had showtunes!"  Of course, you can argue that no one who saw "Legally Blonde" thought, period.  But that's another story.

The original formula was play > movie of play > Broadway musical > movie of musical.  Now it's movie > musical of movie > movie of musical of movie > fat tourists running around with programs of musical of movie clogging the sidewalks in Times Square.  But, unfortunately, all of Broadway is geared to fat tourists who clog sidewalks like they do their own arteries.

In my sketch comedy troupe, The Mistake, we did 10-20 minute musicals out of the following movies:  The Blair Witch Project, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, and The Invisible Man.  And I thought we were pushing the boundaries of satire.  And, like most satirists, we had to conclude that in fact we hadn't gone far enough.

Of course, Broadway could just give up on producing anything new and completely embrace this trend.  Turn the whole strip into a multiplex..  Maybe even have theme seasons.  "For 2013 - ALL COSTNER DISASTERS!!!!  Waterworld, the Musical.  The Postman, the Musical.  Robin Hood, the Musical (wait, they did that, didn't they?).  Field of Dreams, the Musical (sorry, this is one of the worst baseball movies ever made, don't get me started - or I'll get started in another post)  Wyatt Earp, the Musical!"

Why do I feel I'm going to look back on that last paragraph a few years from now and sob?

Today's Gemini Horoscope

A few well-placed words will do more good than a spate of elaborate oratory.

OK.

Horoscopes are bullshit.

That well-placed enough for you?

Rule #1: Baseball Must Drop the Wild Card or Lightning Will Strike Bud Selig in the Testicular Region

The Wild Card in baseball is, without competition, the worst decision any major league has made about the structure and substance of its own sport.  Ever.  I suppose someone out there will want me to say more about this, so I will, but it should be self-evident.

To counter the evolving popularity of the NBA, NFL, and (believe it or not) the NHL in the early 90s, baseball took three decisive steps. 

1. They turned a blind eye to steroids
2. They cancelled the 1994 World Series, and 
3. They started allowing 2nd place teams in the "postseason."  

All three turned out to be really, really bad decisions.  But allowing the "best loser" to keep playing is the worst.

While Jon Miller made a great argument about how this weakens the pennant races, which is the best thing about baseball, perhaps the best argument at the time came from Bob Costas.  In a Sporting News article he speculated about how Bobby Thompson's "Shot Heard Round the World" would have been called if it happened in 1995:

"THE GIANTS WIN THE PENNANT!!!  THE GIANTS WIN THE PENNANT!!!  THE DODGERS ARE THE WILD CARD!!!  THE DODGERS ARE THE WILD CARD!!!"

Add to this the fact that Bucky "Fucking" Dent's HR against the Red Sox in the one-game 1978 playoff also would not have happened, and you are removing the circumstances under which two of the most-loved moments in baseball history happened.  Gone.  Goodbye.  Hope you liked your Boone Logan Beanie Baby give-away.

Right now the Yankees are 2.5 games up on Boston.  No one cares, except the most passionate of Yanks and Sox fans (and I consider myself one of the former).  On Mike & Mike in the Morning today Mike Greenberg said there's basically only one pennant race left, and that's between the Texas Rangers and the Angels (no location to be given here, you need five words to say where you're from, you ain't from nowhere).  And that's a battle to see who is the 4th and 5th best team in the AL.  Old system, REAL system, either the Yanks OR the Sox make it.  Nation is riveted, every night is "must see," and there's genuine excitement.

Bud Selig, the man who calls himself the commissioner, keeps saying "people were against the Wild Card, but everyone's in favor of it now."  Bull-fucking-shit.  While I may be a member of the minority here, we exist.  But, what do you expect from a used car salesman - the truth?!?

I have not watched a single Yankees playoff game in which they were the Wild Card.  Never will.  Fortunately, in every one of the 27 years in which they won the World Series, they also won their league or division.  As it should be.

Why I'm Doing This

I have come to the conclusion that the world needs to hear my voice.  That there is a void out there that only I can fill.  That the universe needs to know what I think.  Before the internet I would have been yelling on a street corner that the world was going to end.  Now, I can do that here, and save my street corner yelling for cars and bicyclists who ignore the WALK sign that I clearly have, don't make me stick my umbrella in your front tire spokes and send you flying pretentious asshole over handlebars.

I got the nickname Shaggy at the University of Chicago (which is why I've gone with the Maroon background for this).  At the time I decided I needed hair past my collar, and a full beard.  Unfortunately, I was only able to grow a beard in spots, and looked like the aforementioned Casey Kasem-voiced co-star of Scooby-Doo, Where Are You?  And, now that I have conceded to the fate of male pattern baldness, and gone to shaving my head, the nickname is tinged with irony.  Tinged out the ass with irony.  Man, that's tinged.

OK, the real reason I started this is my sister started a blog called Merry Go Round, about being a single-mom (hey, read it before you roll your goddamned eyes).  And her second post is about how I corrupted her two kids (here to be known as the World's Cutest Nephew and World's Cutest Niece, or WCNs for short) by playing Led Zeppelin IV (OK, I know that's not the title but blogger doesn't seem to have a ZOSO icon).  And I wanted to comment on it, and when I tried they wanted my profile info, and kinda made me start a blog, and I kinda wanted to anyway, so now we're all stuck with this and here we are.

We'll get to my actual rules of the universe later.