Can a playa get just a little bit of help?

There’s no sense in softening it: dating as a thirty-something in 2012 is terrible.  Maybe I don’t hang out in all the right places.  Maybe I devote a little too much of my time and energy to my work life and not quite enough to my personal life.  Maybe I just haven’t met “The One.”*  But we’re not going to talk about those things right now.  Instead, we’re going to talk about one–and only one**–pretty terrible but pretty significant dynamic of dating in your 30s: short-term vs. long-term attraction.  Or put a little more scientifically, being hot vs. being interesting.

Realistically, the thirty-something dating pool is completely skewed.  I would divide them into four categories: 

Going For A Walk

The other dope boy wrote a little over a week ago rather poetically about his upcoming spring break trip to Arizona.  I have been a poor partner and just read the post today.  The post is emotional, beautiful, and thought-provoking.  Reading it made me want to unplug completely (ironic as I’m writing this), stir an alcoholic beverage with my cell phone (did that in college — the phone breaks), and WALK (more on this in a second) immediately out of my office into the sun.  But, all of that being said, I do want to take issue with one part of Spring Break 2012:  the “hiking.”

Spring break 2012!!

Recently, I was explaining to a group of 20-somethings why the 30s are so much better than the previous decade.  They were skeptical.  The full exposition is for a later post, but here’s a teaser: one reason that your 30s are so much better than your 20s is that you have the money to do more things that you want, like take sweet vacations.  And speaking of sweet vacations, I’ve been spending a lot of time these days thinking about my sweet “Spring Break” plans.  I’m not headed to Panama City to get wasted with some 20 year olds.  It’s not that kind of spring break (although I may or may not have just added that to my bucket list).  Instead, I’m taking advantage of a window of opportunity in mid-April and heading to Arizona for a 4-day solo jaunt in Saguaro National Park.

For Drew Brees

In reaction to the punishment handed down to the New Orleans Saints for incentivizing players to injure other players, Drew Brees is speechless.  Um, well, not exactly.  Drew Brees potentially didn’t take English at Purdue, since it is predominantly an Engineering school, but speechless means without speech.  But after tweeting he was “speechless,” he then demanded an explanation for the punishment given to Sean Payton (one-year suspension).  He did this with words.  I would ask Drew to read my post from two weeks ago, titled “Da Booty,” and then take a third grade grammar class.  But on the bright side of things, Drew’s incorrect use of “I’m speechless” reminded me of one of the most misused phrases that drives me crazy.  And no, it’s not when people use “literally” for emphasis, when it’s not literally true.  For example,, I literally would rather be waterboarded than have to watch Drew Brees play quarterback.  No I wouldn’t, but it’s close.  The one that literally drives me crazy though, is the use of the word “humble” when referring to one’s self after receiving some kind of award or acknowledgment.

I was forced to enjoy a bowl of healthy snacks

This has been an interesting week of highs and lows.  Less than an hour after finishing two fantastic performances of a multimedia program for 3-5 year old children, I sliced my head on a low-hanging duct and spent the rest of the day at urgent care, getting 7 staples in my scalp.

I was lucky to receive great care–starting with help from colleagues who were with me at the time of the accident (my employee sat with me in the waiting room at the doctor’s office), progressing to the free healthy snacks at the urgent care office and a bowl full of birth control pills in a rainbow of bright colors like Skittles.  Wait, what?  Obama forced me to use contraception?!?

Oscars 2012

The two dope boys live chatted the Oscars last night.  For the first and last time.

 

jonweberchicago [jon]: Oscars 3012!

Jules Winfield [JW]: i’ve been warming up on E. the channel, for clarification. what the dictator did to ryan seacrest was the highlight. i saw it live

 

SO [fiancee] just asked why penelope cruz is balding.

 

jon: It almost looked like she had a comb over.

 

JW: uh oh. SO said she also looked gorgeous.  When is mad men starting again? john hamm makes me want to buy a mercedes SUV. and watch mad men

 

8:00 PM

 

jon: She did look gorgeous, except for the comb over.  I’m watching the red carpet coverage on ABC. On mute.

 

JW: should we do some early predictions? here are my top five things i’m looking forward to: 1) george clooney; 2) jean du jardin’s mime silent acceptance speech 3) cirque; 4) and…um, well, that’s it i think

 

jon: What, no Billy Crystal monologue?  What are the odds on a Whitney Houston tribute, somewhere in the show?  I’ll see your George Clooney.  I’m disappointed that Glen Close didn’t come to the Oscars dressed at Albert Nobbs

 

Just tweeted by @jacko2323: “Bad call by Sandra Bullock to use Joan Rivers’ doctor for her facelift.”

 

JW: i dont know anything about albert nobbs. was i supposed to do research? sorry, thai food just showed up. so celebs said who they’re rooting for. i’m rooting for george, jonah, girl with the dragon tattoo — the girl, midnight in paris. and the muppets

 

Why I Care About The NBA, And Basketball

The Birdman

The Tats:  A couple of years ago, I went on Amazon in search of a coffee table book that had photos of NBA players tattoos.  The only book I found was old, and didn’t include the Birdman.  I bought it anyway but I’ve since lost it.  I’m now convinced an entire book could be dedicated to the Birdman’s tattoos and that this is actually one reason why I love the NBA: for the body art.  Another one of my favorites, that I just noticed the other day while the Bulls pounded my Hawks, is Derrick Rose’s hand tattoos.  It made me think — when Rose got these tattoos, his hands must have been out of commission for a week or so — did he not work on his jump shot or anything for that week?  Maybe he worked on going left/right depending on which hand was tat’t up first.  The larger point is that Rose’s hand tattoos caused me to think at all.  Some other honorable mentions are Kenyon Martin’s lips and Rasheed Wallace’s sun.

The Product:  Another reason I love the NBA is for the product.  The common claim is that NBA regular season games are painful to watch, but the lockout-shortened season has made this year’s regular season pretty compelling.  And I’ve never understood the argument that college basketball is more “entertaining.”  By making this point, you are saying that you like watching an inferior product played by inferior players coached by inferior coaches.  Excellence excites me, so watching teenagers brick wide open jump shots and run zero offense does not scratch that itch.  I do love March Madness — I’m not a complete idiot.   Some might say that the lockout disheartened casual fans.  Look, I don’t think you can make the argument that players make too much money.  It’s an illogical argument.  The money exists, whether it’s rich owners, lucrative TV deals, jacked-up ticket prices, or endorsements.  So who should take that money?  The players; not the owners.  I agree that there is a societal imbalance with professional athlete’s salaries compared to just about any other profession.  But fans feed the imbalance.  So we shouldn’t complain if we tune in (like I do) or use box seats from my fiance’s law firm (we do) to watch the Wiz lose games.  I like the product, so I feed the beast.  It would be nice if players did recognize that without fans, their profession would not exist.  And players could earn a little bit less in exchange for lower ticket prices.  But that sounds like Socialism.  Don’t be such a Socialist (brought to you by the Republican National Committee)! 

Ten Songs for Different Valentine’s Days

Happy Valentime’s Day, everyone!  Unfortunately, this year is one when I couldn’t take advantage of the great offers for roses from the vendors on the street corners.  I didn’t buy a heart-shaped box of candy and I’m not headed out to dinner with a sweetie.  But there’s no reason not to celebrate love.  Love is an amazing thing and, in fact, I think we should all celebrate St. Valentine every day.  So here are ten great songs for a wide range of different Valentine’s Days.*

Our Night With Grammy

The morning after the GrammYs, the other dope boy, my fiance, and I exchanged the following set of emails. 

Jules Winfield (JW):  Whitney Houston is dead?  Seriously, I don’t want to talk about her at all.  She did lots and lots of crack.  She had one of the best voices I’ve ever heard.  She did too much crack.  Can we talk about the rest of the night?

 

SoHo:  oh whitney…sigh.

 

JW:  I have a theory about Adele but I’d like to get your reactions before I explain — I think people like her more because she’s a little overweight.  This includes me.  But why is this?

 

Jonweberchicago:  (You realize that “JW” as an abbreviation for “Jules Winfield” is a little confusing with “Jonweberchicago”?)  I agree, but I think most people won’t articulate it like that.  My theory is that I think a lot of people are excited that somebody who looks a little different from the rest of the Hollywood crowd is making it big.  It’s similar to the American
Idol effect too.  Remember when that show first came out?  People were so psyched because it could be just a normal person who lived next door to you, but he/she had what it takes to be a star.  What’s your theory?  But on the real, Adele can just sing her fat ass off.

The love below (part 2)

I have a secret love that only my closest friends know.  I don’t think my parents know.  Very few colleagues know.  Most people would be very surprised to learn about it; some even shocked. Underneath the business attire, despite the fact that I’m a preacher’s kid, and even after 20+ years and two degrees in classical music, I can’t deny how much I LOVE Outkast.

In part 1 of this series, I broke down the highlights of ‘Kast’s debut Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik.  Part 2 is now long overdue.  Today I’ll be focusing on the incredible sophomore effort, ATLiens.

Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik was a unique and, I’d argue, better than average first effort.  But in the grand scheme of things, that album was just a talented 9th grader playing on the varsity team: it showed skill, promise and enthusiasm, but it was unproven.  ATLiens, on the other hand, which dropped in August 1996 (actually, on the other dope boy’s birthday.  Happy birthday, Versastylist.  You’ve already been helped), is all the proof you would need to trade as many prospects and future picks as it takes to move way up in the draft to take this future hall of famer.  This album proved what Andre and Big Boi were capable of: a huge learning curve over the previous 3 years and the potential to eclipse every other artist in the genre.

“If you don’t want to be challenged by your hip-hop, ATLiens is not the album for you; matter of fact OutKast is not the group for you. They refuse to be conventional in a world of formulaic mediocrity, which may make them harder to grasp but ultimately makes them that much better to listen to.”

Steve ‘Flash’ Juon