Category: Life

  • ODDS and ENDS: Local Spurs Bars, YouTube Battle Documentaries, and Most Men Can’t Grill

    (Holy Cannoli!)

    I have found the local NYC Tottenham Hotspur bar. Well, there are two; One in Manhattan and one in Brooklyn. I’m not planning on going there, as I just like knowing that they are there if I need them. Also, the 2022/23 Premiere League fixture schedule came out on Thursday. I won’t bore you with the details, but the season does start on August 6th.

    I think I might have mentioned a while ago that I started watching disc golf tournaments on YouTube. If I haven’t mentioned it,; I do that now. Somehow the YouTube/Google algorithm (which is our new overload and I do welcome them in running the mine) thought I needed to watch some very detailed, slightly melodramatic, and well narrated, mini documentaries about battles from the ancient and medieval world. And the overlord was correct, I am interested in watching them. It’s nerdy fun for me, as they do cover all of the lead up and logistics of the battles, which is something that is normally glossed over in other histories on the same subject. Now, all of these docs have an ad in them, which makes complete sense because somebody’s got to pay for this. I am not knocking these guys for having ads. Hell, I’m probably going to be doing the same thing very soon. What I find impressive about these ads is the seamlessness the voiceover artists have with going from talking about the battle to selling whatever product. It’s like, “Little did Caesar know that Pompey was setting a trap that would decide the future of the Roman Republic, just like how my future was decided when I began using Giglio Men’s Facial Regimen – I product I fully endorse, and suggest that you should try as well.” I tip my cap to these guys; they sell these products just as convincingly as they narrate the documentaries.

    Yeah, most guys don’t know how to grill. (I said, and I ain’t scared.) I have been talking to the wife about this lately because it’s summer, and grilling season, and some guy somewhere will grill some sort of meat for us, and it will be awful. And we will chew this grey piece of burnt bark while being regaled by this guy, telling us how great he is at grilling. Please, fellas, stop it. If you don’t know how to cook in a kitchen, what the fuck makes you think that you are amazing over a grill? It’s like all of the guys turn into the Hulk over the grill. “FIRE! SMASH!” Just… just stop. We, your friends, are begging you. Just stop.

    (Say, if you like what you read, then don’t forget to like, or share, or leave a comment. Every bit helps.)

  • Thoughts on Laundry Day

    Monday is laundry day in our house. We don’t have a washer and dryer in our apartment nor is there one in the building. I have to carry everything a block and a half to the laundromat. I have been doing the laundry since the kid was born, and before that we used to use a wash and fold service.

    Now, I’m the service, and this is my role in the family.

    Yet, when I got up today, I was annoyed that I had to do this errand. Annoyed that I have to spend half my day doing this, when I’d rather be doing everything but laundry.

    Maybe it’s the heat of Summer, maybe I’m getting older and it takes more out of me to do it than it used to. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m forty-five and I still have to go to a laundromat.

    Maybe I’m becoming an angry middle aged man in America. Maybe I’m not the savior of the world, I’m not a rock star, or a genius, or the best at what I do. Maybe I’m just a guy floundering in the middle of the pack.

    Maybe I still don’t know what I’m doing, and now the fear of running out of time is invading my ego, causing me to shirk my responsibilities and run away.

    I’m just not feeling it today.

    (Say! If you like what you have read, please like, share, and leave a comment. It would help justify my existence.)

  • ODDS and ENDS: Field Day, SPF Shirt, AND Oysters and Martinis

    (Whatever gets you through the night)

    I was doing the Alt Side parking this morning, and the spot I found was along the local park, which was a normal place for me to put the car. As I was next to the park, there was a steady stream of people jogging, walking their dogs, and people with babies in strollers. Just a normal Friday morning. And then, a large mass of elementary school kids came walking by, led by teachers, bounding, over joyed and exuberant. The kids had on different colored shirts, and written on the shirts was “FIELD DAY 2022.” It’s Field Day today for these kids, because, you know, they haven’t had a Field Day in two years. I know it’s an old story to talk about the things we have missed out on during the two Covid years, but I had forgotten about Field Days; the most unathletic athletic competitions that a school can host. Just a fun day at school where it felt like we were all getting away with something, like a clandestine free day. I sat in my car listening to the kids laugh, and scream and cheer each other on in hula-hoop, and three leg races.

    I am going to buy a men’s SPF shirt for this summer. The past couple of summers, when we have gone to the beach or a water park, I have gotten some pretty server sunburns. Yes, I have used and reapplied sun screen. Now, when I went looking for a respectable looking SPF shirt, I noticed that all of them are skin tight. If this was 25-year-old me, this wouldn’t be an issue. But 45-year-old me, who likes beer and ice cream, wonders if there is a more loose, casual type of SPF shirt? You know, a SPF shirt that says, “I don’t want to get burned, and I only go out in the sun once a year.”

    It’s my wife’s birthday! Oysters and Martinis for dinner!

    (Say! If you like what you have read, please like, share, and leave a comment. It would help justify my existence.)

  • Oh, That’s How I Got Here

    A good thing happened this morning, which was that the 2022/2023 school year calendar was released. It is an event that I need to happen so we could plan our summer and fall.

    And that was also the moment that I confirmed to myself that I am a different person from the one who moved to NYC in 2006. It’s been sixteen years; I would hope that I would change some. I would hate to think that almost two decades would go by and I would be a stagnate individual.

    But as I got out of the subway at 96th to walk over to the Trader Joe’s, I did spend a second thinking about that guy who got off a plan in Newark, and what he hoped to accomplish, and why he didn’t accomplish it.

    When I moved, I had been out of college for five years, and had a very modest bit of succus in the Dallas/Ft. Worth area theatre scene through acting and directing. I was moving to New York to continue that pursuit, which I did. I acted in a few very little things, and directed a play here and there. And as all of that was happening, I feel in with a crowd of puppeteers, and really started getting inspired by that work. I had some pretty respectable successes in that line of work, earned some real money as a performer, did some really great work on some amazing productions, and made some really great friends. And while that was going on, I feel in love and got married, and started a family. I started working and running rehearsal studios, and then wanted to try my hand at arts admin. I can admit now that arts admin wasn’t right for me. Maybe it was the companies I worked for, maybe it was me, but the bottom line is that it wasn’t the right fit. And now, I take care of my daughter and support my wife’s career. I doodle pictures, and work at writing. It’s not where I thought I would be, but I’m also not unhappy either.

    Things change. Attitudes change. Ambitions and desires change. The only constant in life is change.

    I always thought I was one of those people whose life was a straight as an arrow path, such as I knew what I wanted to do. But looking back at the last twenty years, it’s been anything but.

    I am a guy who looks forward to school year calendars.

    (Say, don’t forget to like this post, or share it, or leave a comment. I got bills to pay, you know.)

  • It’s Time to Cut Stuff Out

    So, ah, I have been going to the gyp for four months now. Not a whole lot has changed. I have dropped 8 pounds, and my legs look toned and muscular. Outside of that, nothing has changed.

    In fact, I went out shopping this weekend to buy some new shorts, and I had to move up to the 32″ waist. Yup, in four months, my stomach got bigger.

    So, something is outta wack.

    My belly, is a beer belly. Or, if you are trying to be cute, one might call it a Dad Bod, but that sounds gross and icky and trying too hard to be trendy. I have a beer and ice cream belly. To be specific, it is a bourbon and ginger ale, and late night ice cream beer belly. I have to admit that I have two habits that are working against me.

    It’s June, which is a month that I normally take off from drinking, so that will be an easy adjustment. But, I need to start to look at my relationship with drinking. Ask the hard questions as to why I do it, what am I getting out of it, and is it masking something that I don’t want to deal with. Those are tough, and serious questions.

    The ice cream, on the other hand is an easy one. I am a late night snacker. I like to raid the fridge before I go to bed, and being that we are about to start summer, I have been buying a lot of ice cream. Most of it is ending up in my stomach, which then attaches to my stomach. I mean, I do have some other bad eating habits if I am being honest, but the ice cream really is the crown jewel of my gluttony. Sure, the roots of my drinking might be deep and dark, and deserve real introspection, but the reason for ice cream is easy; it tastes good and makes me feel really good. Sure, my family sees me drinking, but the ice cream is a secret that only happens when I am alone late at night watching old movies or MST3k.

    The point here people, if I want to see more results, and actually get to feeling better, which is still alluding me, then I need to make some additional changes to my health, and admit that I need to cut some things out.

    (Say, don’t forget to like this post, or share it, or leave a comment. I got bills to pay, you know.)