Category: Thoughts

Experiments, Random Ideas, and posts that don’t fit other categories.

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Wilco Haiku: What’s that on my Shirt?

A few weeks ago, Wilco’s website (Wilcoworld.net) announced a contest for a Gibson SG Guitar signed by the band. You just had to submit a Wilco related haiku poem. While I am not one for poetry, I wanted that fucking guitar. The deadline was a few weeks ago and I haven’t heard anything, so I am assuming I lost. Since the effort was made and and I won’t be able to post this week, I am going to publish some of the better ones I came up with every day. I hope you enjoy my attempts at winning a free guitar.

What’s that on my shirt?
Started war on war
Ash from American Flags
Staining my clean shirt

ADD: It dawned on me that people might not know what Haiku is. From Wikipedia:

Haiku: is a form of Japanese poetry, consisting of 17 moras (or on), in three metrical phrases of 5, 7, and 5 moras respectively.

[1] Haiku typically contain a kigo, or seasonal reference, and a kireji or verbal caesura. In Japanese, haiku are traditionally printed in a single vertical line, while haiku in English usually appear in three lines, to parallel the three metrical phrases of Japanese haiku.

[2] Previously called hokku, haiku was given its current name by the Japanese writer Masaoka Shiki at the end of the 19th century.

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Office Etiquette: Appropriate Sneezing Responses

Office Etiquette: Appropriate Sneezing Responses

Yesterday I was in an all day meeting (which could/should/will be an article all to itself) and at some point during the session, someone sneezed and another person said “God Bless You”. The person didn’t just “GodBlessYou” in the mindless way everyone seems to; they made it a point to clearly and slowly say GOD…..BLESS….YOU. The three second act started to buzz around my head for a few minutes and I started to wonder if anyone was offended at the usage of the word God (Christian or Non-Christian)

If you are Christian, it seems kind of petty to invoke the name of the creator of all existence just because somebody had a very small biological reaction to dust in the air. I have heard that saying “Bless You” or “God Bless You” took hold during the dark ages because people thought a sneeze was your “soul attempting to escape your body”. After some research that lore seems to be confirmed:

Several possible origins are commonly given. The practice of blessing a sneeze, dating as far back as at least 77 AD, however, is far older than most specific explanations can account for.

A legend holds that it was believed that the the heart stops beating and the phrase “bless you” is meant to ensure the return of life or to encourage your heart to continue beating.

One explanation holds that the custom originally began as an actual blessing. Gregory I became Pope in 590 as an outbreak of the bubonic plague was reaching Rome. In hopes of fighting off the disease, he ordered unending prayer and parades of chanters through the streets. At the time, sneezing was thought to be an early symptom of the plague. The blessing (“God bless you!”) became a common effort to halt the disease.

A variant of the Pope Gregory I story places it with Pope Gregory VII, then tells the common story of “Ring Around the Rosey” being connected to the same plague

Another version says that people used to believe that your soul can be thrown from your body when you sneeze, that sneezing otherwise opened your body to invasion by the Devil or evil spirits, or that sneezing was your body’s effort to force out an invading evil spirit. Thus, “bless you” or “God bless you” is used as a sort of shield against evil.

Alternatively, it may be possible that the phrase began simply as a response for an event that was not well understood at the time.

Another belief is that people used to see sneezing as a sign that God would answer your prayers or an omen of good fortune or good luck.In this case, “Bless you” would be in recognition of that luck.

Tibetan Buddhists believe a sneeze (like meditation, falling asleep, preparing to die) can provide a moment of “clear consciousness,” when people are opened to greater understanding.

Credit: Wikipedia

PS: I had assume that “Gesundheit” meant the same thing in German, but the word has origins in both the German and Jewish cultures and has a minor but interesting variation. It is assumed that “Gesundheit” isn’t blessing the other person, in rough translation in means “good health to me”.

While the history of the term is certainly interesting, I wonder if phrases like that have a place at international corporations. The combination of cultural diversity and a bored HR departments could be a dangerous mix. My intent is to avoid sounding like “no more Xmas Parties in the office because it offends the non-Christians” people because that is an exhausting position (I have a Christmas party every year with Christian, Jewish, Muslim, and non-believers in attendance). On this side note: I don’t view Xmas as religious in any way; I view Christmas as tourists view “The Running of the Bulls” in Spain. It is a cultural event that everyone can enjoy from the safety of balcony and should you find yourself on the ground and the path of a bull (or large angry house wife looking for that last toy on the list)… RUN.

For the most part, when someone sneezes, I am not thinking “I wonder what I should say”, I am usually thinking, “I hope that clown covered their face”. In a related event yesterday, there was a bull of a woman sitting behind me on the train ride home who was not only loudly conducting a conversation with two other people, she was sneezing and coughing all over the back of my head, I had to move. I did not say “GodBlessYou” or “Gesundheit” but I was giving her the death stare and maybe wishing her soul would fly away, infecting St. Peter at the gates of heaven. I also hope that he kicks her ass out. A man can dream…

UPDATE: This little article has become the all time most popular on the blog. If you have a second, can you tell me how and why you came across it – I just like to know where my readers are coming from.

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Thanksgiving Eve (2006)

[A Brief History]

About 8 years ago (when I was still in college and interning), my cousin’s business was located in downtown Marlton, NJ. I used to meet him for lunch regularly at his office and I often brought my co-worker “Shame” (I am going to keep the naming methods from “The Night We Got Beat Up”). During the holidays at my office, people used to leave around lunch and never came back. We got the wink that we could leave at noon the day before Thanksgiving and decided to meet up with my cousin and his business partner. When we got there, we couldn’t agree on a place to go, so my cousin looked at his buddy and said – “Follow Us” with an ominous tone.

We ended up going to the Jug Handle and for the next few years it became a mini-tradition. As my cousin and his partner stopped going for various reasons, I started supplementing the crowd with other work buddies. The Jug Handle was great because it had cheap food, cheap drinks, pool, darts, and shuffle board. Eventually people switched jobs and meeting at the Jug Handle became a pain in the ass because nobody worked or lived around there anymore and the cops were out looking for DUI’s. In 2006 we agreed to meet in a small bar attached to Fuddruckers because we knew nobody would be there and we could have a few hours to ourselves. This is the story of that day.

[Fuddruckers]

I decided to open up the invitation to my cousin and a few college buddies, Fudds is near my cousin’s place so I thought he could make it, but he couldn’t that year, but my college friends did. Republicaster made the trip from Pa and agreed to spend the night. With Republicaster involved, I knew it was going to be a crazy night. Another friend agreed to drive us to our liquid lunch and my future wife would meet us there when she was done work. On the way to the bar, we picked up The Mongolian from my Fear and Loathing stories. On this particular day, Republicaster had just discovered the video “Two Girls and a Cup” and made us all watch it. If you don’t know what this video is, I wouldn’t recommend googling it unless you like watching people eat freshly squeezed feces. Republicaster played that damn video on every computer he came in contact with that day and on his iPhone.

We were really early and the other guys informed us they were getting out of work late, so we stopped at a Chinese Buffet down the street and loaded up. After 20 minutes, The Mongolian looked like he was going to pass out in a food coma. He stopped eating which had me concerned for his whole day drinking stamina. After 40 minutes of killing time, we got the word that the others were on their way, so we left for the bar. Clowncar and “The Professor” were already there and we quickly settled in and started taking advantage of Fudd’s Blue Moon special (I don’t know how I remember that). Shame and Grapeape were the next to arrive and we started playing pool and darts. We were having a great time and then Shirts walks in sporting a 1992 US Basketball Dream Team Jersey complete with head and wrist bands. The verbal beating that Shirts took that day became legendary (check out the video). Shame actually had to tell us to stop because Shirts was really upset over the verbal lashing. It didn’t stop Clowncar.

[La Casa de Shirt]

My future wife showed up just as “The Professor”, Grapeape, and Clowncar were leaving. My college friend left to pick up his lady friend and never came back – typical. Shirts suggested we enjoy a few beverages at his place. Off we went. Shirts had recently moved into a nice condo and he was definitely entertaining often based on the amount of booze at the place. Republicaster immediately went up to the loft and started showing everyone “Two Girls and a Cup”, even after repeated viewings, I threw up in my mouth a little bit. Republicaster must have had it on repeat as I heard him belly-laughing for several minutes. Up to this point, I hadn’t really noticed how much Republicaster was drinking, but I started to see bottles of Shirt’s scotch start to pile up next to his recycle bin. Shirts had invited some of his other friends over as well because he was leaving the country for the holidays for a few weeks. Shirts also invited his neighbors over. His neighbors were divorced women who were dressed just a little bit provocatively. Republicaster was all over this. Somehow they started talking politics and George Bush. At some point in the night, Republicaster said “George Bush is a great president – how can you deny it? – we won the war on terror”. If you haven’t figured it out, this is how Republicaster earned his name. This started a shouting match between Republicaster, Allison, and I that Shirt’s semi-tramp neighbor had to break up by getting Republicaster to go outside with her for a cigarette. Looking at the recycling bin there were two empty bottles of scotch, 2 empty bottles of rum, 3 empty vodkas, and at least a case of beer. Allison didn’t have one drink at Shirt’s place and I stopped well before my shouting match with Republicaster which was good because Shame, The Mongolian, and Republicaster wanted to leave. Shame’s dad was playing music at an old-school Italian bar near Berlin, NJ so we agreed to go there.

[Volare’s]

This place was totally “Guido’ed” out. Lots of dark slicked back hair, gold chains, teased hair, Frank Sinatra covers…. Shame immediately started doing shots of tequila with family members at the bar. The Mongolian got sucked into the vortex and quickly became a drunken zombie. Republicaster found his way to the outdoor patio and started making friends outside. Me and Allison were sitting at a table waiting for Shame to find some girl to take home so we could leave. We stayed a while as Shame performed with his dad’s band, but I could see most of the women at the bar were more like family to Shame and the girls that met his approval – well, I think he already slept with most of them. Shame decided it was time to go to a bar near his house. At this point Allison said enough. We promptly told the guys we would take them to the bar but they have to find their own way home OR we would drive them all back to their houses. Shame wanted to go to the bar (because he could walk home). Republicaster got caught up in Shame’s spell thinking he could actually get his run off. Shame left no run off. If there are three girls, Shame will try to get all three. I tried to warn Republicaster but he wasn’t listening.

[Home-bound]

As we pulled into the new bar’s parking lot, I looked at The Mongolian who had not spoken a word in over an hour, I told him we could take him home and he looked like he really want to leave with us, but Republicaster pulled him out of the car. I looked at Republicaster – who was supposed to be staying at my house – and said “if you leave with them, I am not coming back out to get you. You will have to find your own way.” He said he understood and with that I shut off my cell phone. Getting home was terrible. There were so many checkpoints I was really glad Allison hadn’t had a drink in close to 7 hours, but I still took her down back-roads to avoid any possibility of conflict with the police. We got home and went to bed. I never did turn my cell phone on.

[The Morning After]

Thanksgiving day was misty and cold. As I turned on my cellphone I knew I was going to have several obscenity-laced message and I was right. As I predicted, Shame quickly found a girl and left Republicaster and The Mongolian behind. The Mongolian had enough and started to walk home (about 2 miles). Republicaster started following him back. As Republicaster followed, he called me on his cell phone to tell me to pick him up, of course I never answered. The messages became more desperate and crude. The Mongolian told me Republicaster was trying to hitch-hike a one point (Republicaster hates to walk). Eventually they made it to The Mongolian’s house. The Mongolian’s wife – Lady Death Strike – is a very clean woman. Their rug and couch are white and you have to be very careful not to mess up their pristine set-up. This was not a good situation for Republicaster.

Lady Death Strike later told me she heard snoring from downstairs and had assumed it was one of their friends but she didn’t know anyone that snored that loud. The Mongolian was still in his drunken zombie mode and offered no information. The good lady was left to wonder who was sleeping on her couch that evening.

As I deleted Republicaster’s half-dozen messages, Allison and I went to the gym. After we got out, my phone rang and it was a very panicked Republicaster asking me to get him the hell out of The Mongolian’s cave before they woke up. He didn’t want to deal with any awkward conversations with Lady Death Strike who he didn’t know well at the time. Allison and I laughed as we went to get Republicaster. I texted him when I was at the door and he snuck out.

Republicaster promptly informed me that he lost his credit card and I needed to take him back to the Guido Bar. So I had to drive to Berlin (about 25 minutes) and then back to my place (which was 40 minutes). When we got to the bar, some meat-head was yelling at his girlfriend; he peeled off when he noticed Allison and I were shamelessly watching him. Another girl dropped off a very shady looking character at the bar. He quickly got in his car and pulled off without saying a word. Ah, who doesn’t love the sights of trashy South Jersey one night stands.

Republicaster got back in the car and we went back to my place. He quickly grabbed his stuff and left so he can celebrate the holiday with his family. My family enjoyed our typical early meal and then I drove back to Berlin to take my Grandmother home and then off to my future in-laws.

[Conclusion]

Needless to say it was a long 24 hours. The last few years we have continued to meet at Fudds for a few hours. It has been getting harder as some of the guys have kids at home and they need to get back and help their wives with holiday preparations. Regardless of the obstacles, we plan on getting together again this year.

If you find yourself going out on Thanksgiving Eve – make sure you have a designated driver and don’t “Shame” your friends.

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Reflections on Tour De Philly 2009

Hype and disappointment share different sides on a very fickle coin. In the flash of a milli-second you can go from bummed out to pumped up. That has been theme going into the TDP 2009. Many of the long term tourers couldn’t make it this year (which got us all down), and we saw the return of a TDP legend (brought us back up), then we had two heart breaking last minute cancels (down again), but when the dust settled last night… we had several surprise guests that raised our spirits and our glasses.

Like last year’s TDP, I organized the tour around the center city bars. We are too old for the college bars and the Old City hot spots are too crowded too bring in groups of 15 (although the center city bars proved to be crowded themselves last night). Personally speaking, I started my day drinking water and resting for the long night. I needed to head into the city a little early to drop off paperwork to Casey @ Jose’s for another event I am planning. Every interaction I have with the guy proves to me he is a class act. After an appetizer for the girls and a few new brews, we headed off to Fergies for the first official bar of the tour.

Getting to Fergies was a little daunting as I picked the wrong direction going out of Joses and walked 5 blocks before I realized it (Pistolas packs some strong beers). Once the correction was set, we quickly arrived to see a group of smiling faces. Four of our mighty group had arrived including TDP Founder Tom McCabe. Fergies had a live Irish Band jam session which was cool, but the band took up a good portion of the limited seating in the bar. We decided quickly to move on to the next bar because people wanted to eat dinner at McGillins (which was a late add to the tour agenda).

We quickly headed over to McGillins and it was packed. The group was split up for a round until a family left and we managed to steal a large table. The drinks were cheap and the food is popular among my friends so we spent more time in there than I had planned. I have to mention we had a very plucky waitress and I couldn’t decide if she was being funny or a bitch. She found a forgotten purse that one of the girls left at another table which earned her a good tip immediately, but she was kinda mouthy – which I thought was funny, but I don’t know if she intended it to be that way. The Mongolian was running late so I figured it would be best to stay in one place so he could link up. The A-Team brought a surprise guest star – Liz from our Zane Patrick’s Day adventure. This is the second time this woman has met me and both have been at drinking events, I am sure she has a very high opinion. We ended up staying at McGillins for 90 minutes putting the tour behind schedule. But it was good to have the A-Team and another TDP legend, Tee into the fold. We left McGillins with bellies full of drink and food and went over to Nodding Head

The Head was packed and once again our group was split into two. It took a while for our waitress to find us, which led to one of the A-Team to break off and find his own beverage. Eventually she came and took our orders. I decided to go with a beer I used to drink in college and I will just say it was a mistake for older Joey (it had ginger in it – yuk!). The other table had warm beer… this isn’t England and our American beer palettes require beverages to be chilled, especially on hot summer nights. We left very quickly. As we were walking out, Tom had a conversation with a gentleman in the street, in Tom’s own words:

[Potential Homeless Person]:”What do you call a horse with it’s left side chopped off?”
[Tom]: I don’t know
[Potential Homeless Person]:”Alllll right. Can I have a dollar?”
[Tom]: “Ok….. that joke really was worth a dollar”

Guess you had to be there.

Our next stop was the Raven Lounge. I had never been to this bar, but I was trying to be economically focused for my friends and I read they had decent specials on Saturday night and it was on the path for the tour. $2.00 PBR Pounders pleased the men while the women delighted in the board games the bar provided for patrons. I had expected a one and done situation at Raven, but we stayed a while playing Jenga and Hungry Hungry Hippos. Tour founder Tom McCabe had to leave to check in with work and we all decided it would be a good time to move along.

At this point, I was hearing people talk about trains and times and decided it might be a good idea to nix the Misconduct Tavern and head back to Jose’s to end the night. We already had people waiting for us there: One TDPer’s long lost cousin and my buddy Pete (with his hilarious brother Paul and his girlfriend). I rushed over to Pistolas because there were lines for the restrooms at Raven and I needed to go badly (and I wasn’t going to pull a Republicaster and just piss on the sidewalk). Pete and his crew already beat me there and I politely (I think) rushed past them. Once I got back down, we managed to take over the whole back portion of the bar. Several of my friends were new to Jose’s and I pimped their fantastic nachos which earned much deserved praise. I partook in a few shots with the new tourists and had wonderfully incoherent conversations. At midnight approached our friends left to catch trains, the Mongolian disappeared with Pete, Paul took off when I turned my head (I saw him leaving out the window), and my wife told me there was a 12:05 train we could catch so we closed up the tab and said goodnight.

TDP 2009 offered genuine surprise moments and guests, a family reunion (I think – I was too “distracted” to notice what the hell was going on), and a night of good times. There is talk of expanding the brand next year and opening it up to people we don’t know. I think the TDP has all the makings of a legendary public bar crawl, but I hope it doesn’t lose anything in the transition. Either way, I want to thank all those who took the tour this year and hope they come back because you know you will regret it if you don’t.

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The Night We Got Beat Up

NOTE: The names, dates, and places have all been changed to protect the parties involved.

Weddings are supposed to be days of happiness and unity, sometimes it doesn’t work out that way. A few years ago my buddy “Clowncar” took the plunge and exchanged vows. The ceremony and reception were great. Clowncar invited our group to attend (sans my future wife as we had only been dating a few months, so invitations and seating were already locked – this is an important because…). Since I was going stag and three of the other guys were single at the time, we agreed to go together. Let’s call the three guys Grapeape, Shame, and Shirts. Like any wedding with an open bar, we got drunk. Then we went to a bar at the hotel and drank some more. During the wedding, Shame was on the prowl looking for some wedding sex which he achieved in a classic story that is not mine to tell publicly. I will share my friend’s wife kept saying “he’s not going to have sex with that girl is he? She’s so nasty!” My reply was “what do you think her family is saying about him.” Because of that sexual conquest, Shame recommended we leave so he could avoid awkward cuddling or conversation post coitus. Off we went. I should note that I had stopped drinking during the wedding because I had to drive.

We ended up going to a semi-popular bar/restaurant in South Jersey that happened to be open late for some god awful reason. This is one of those places that is really a restaurant but decides to call itself into a club after 11:00 PM for the asshole patrons that think they are doing something with their night. We walk in as a fight is being broken up. Bad Omen. Shame’s intent was to get laid again and was in full capture mode. When Shame reaches such levels of self-interest I tend to take a few paces back, way too much for me to handle drunk let alone sober. As I watched my friends get progressively drunker another fight is broken up and the participants are ejected from the building… that makes two. I strike up a conversation with the bouncers, and say something to the effect of “for such a tame bar, there seems to be a lot of fights tonight.” The bouncer agrees saying he doesn’t know what is going on. Unfortunately, it would soon be our turn.

What happens next will first be told from my perspective sitting on the bench in front of the bar next to the bouncer and then I will tell the story from other accounts of what happened:

From my view:

I noticed Shame, Grapeape, and Shirts at the main bar talking to two girls, one attractive and one that wasn’t (of course she was throwing herself at Shame – like a lamb to the slaughter). I continue my conversation with the bouncer when I hear “Fuck you ” I look up and notice Shirts start to get up and look very angry. Shirts is of a non-Caucasian ethnicity (I won’t say what) and this was a very inappropriate thing to say (it was not the N-word). Shirts goes off on this guy, telling him he is going to do terrible things…bla bla bla. The bouncers rush over and the guy and Shirts are getting tossed out. I grab Shirts and try to calm things down, he agrees to go outside to cool off. Grapeape and Shame stay in the bar with the girls.

Second Hand Account:

Shame, Grapeape, and Shirts were talking to the two girls (Shame was trying to lock down both) when a few guys came over and tried to talk to the girls. Shame immediately got pissed at this act and told the two guys to fuck off. Things escalated from there until they called Shirts the racial slur. I should have guessed Shame was at the center of it…

Once I got outside, Shirts was calming down when we noticed several guys were coming to my car from other parts of the parking lot. I quickly (and correctly) guessed that all of fights were connected and all of these assholes were together. There were initially ten guys trying to start something with Shirts outside. You know that part in Thriller when MJ and the girl are surrounded by the zombies and the camera goes around in the circle, and then comes back on MJ and he is a zombie? That’s what happened to us except Shirts didn’t turn into a zombie (or in this case a greasy European looking guy) and nobody was breaking out into spontaneous street dancing. Being the only sober one in the general area, I start talking common sense: everybody is drunk, it’s not going to end well, their group is going to get into way more trouble since we were basically being jumped; they started to back off. Then Grapeape comes out.

[HULKING UP]

He burst out of the bar doors like Hulk Hogan and in my retro-memory he is waving his finger and “Hulking Up”. He immediately gets in this giant greasy kid’s face as more of their friends follow out of the bar. There is now close to twenty guys surrounding the three of us. Angry words are being exchanged and I look over at the bar for the bouncers and I see Shame talking with them. Shame comes over. One of the smaller guys manages to dart behind Grapeape and the big greasy kid pushed him down. The thugs swarms around Grapeape. He never even had a chance. It seems to me that Shame was their original target and he was quickly taken down once Grapeape was neutralized. Shame’s survival instinct is strong as he rolled into a ball and protected his pretty face. Eventually they grew tired of him and moved to join the gangbang on Grapeape.


(Example of what the offenders looked like)

Shirts and I were still on our feet. There were three guys on Shirts and he somehow made them move away from Grapeape and Shame and took them on himself in another portion of the parking lot. There was one guy left and he was gunning for me. I am completely sober and have the benefit of adrenaline clarity. This guy is staggering before he even throws one punch. I keep telling him he doesn’t want to throw that punch but I am thinking I don’t want to throw a punch. Being sober in a fight as one huge disadvantage: logic. I am thinking if I hit this guy and he gets hurt, am I going to get sued? Jail? As I am deep in thought, he punches me. This kid has no heat and his fist literally bounces off my head. I say fuck it, self-defense time. One open palm to the face and he is down and bleeding. I look back at Grapeape and the swarm around him is huge and kicking. I scream at the bouncers to call the cops and probably an ambulance. I then jump on Grapeape and try to absorb some of the kicks to his head. I noticed Shame pretending to be passed out by a car.

The cops arrived quickly leading me to believe someone else called earlier. The twenty assholes actually ran away. RAN AWAY. The cops quickly caught up with them. As the ambulance arrived, their attention was first focused on Shame. Shame was fine and kept asking/proclaiming that “It’s got to be illegal to punch someone in the face, it has to be illegal.” The EMT kept telling him he was right, it was assault, but Shame kept saying it until the EMT told Shame to shut the fuck up. Eventually they focused on Grapeape – he was in bad shape. They cleaned him up, patched up the cuts, and made sure he didn’t have a concussion. As they checked my friend, I looked at the other part of the parking lot where the cops managed to wrangle up most of the thugs. They were allowed to leave on their own accord.

They left. The ambulance left. The cops left. We left.

I dropped off Shirts and Shame. Then I went to Grapeape’s place. I stayed with him to make sure he wasn’t exhibiting any signs of a concussion – he wasn’t. He kept telling me to leave and after an hour or so, I agreed to go (which I regretted then and to this day). I found out he went to the hospital the next day to get stitches and to be treated for a minor concussion – something good came out of that trip, but that’s not my business to say, but I think it worked out for him.

Shame and I went to the police station the following week as Shame was exploring any and all options to capitalize on his beating. Nothing came of it. No surprise.

I wish I could come up with some profound way to end this story. To my knowledge, none of us have been involved in a fight since. Grapeape deplores going out and being around people and likes to stay home with his girl, Shirts and I are married and living our lives, and Shame is… still Shame.