HE SAID: Navigating and Directions

Unfortunately, I am the wrong male to be addressing this issue.  I come from a long line of planners, and as such I know where the eff I am going.  I can honestly not remember a time where I was lost to the point where I ended up super late to something.  Sure, a wrong turn here or there but I always immediately knew my mistake because I knew where my destination was in the first place.  Also, I tend to get really lucky when I do make a wrong turn…t

This fall I was on my way to a dinner party (one of the few weekend excursions that involved as much food as alcohol), which was out in the middle of nowhere and it was pitch black.  I ended up parking my car next to four others, which to me told me I was at the right house, but when I knocked on the door it was a bunch of 50 year olds.  They told me I wanted the next driveway, but to come in for a beer.  I declined, as I had just watched “Eyes Wide Shut” and was a bit fearful of a bunch of older people wanted to assault me in a sexual, group manner.

I think your point is a valid one though.  And it must come from some inner place that tells us males that we don’t need others to succeed.  On the other hand, the ritard level of your two main examples is off the f**king charts.  Though I have a story that I believe supersedes it.  I had a buddy driving from Richmond to Boston for summer break with a girl in the passenger seat.  For those that don’t know, it makes almost no sense to drive straight through DC because traffic there is about as congested as my nose on Spring morning where pollen dominates my life.  So, you take 495 (the beltway).  You can take either 495 east or west, and once north of DC you hop back on 95.  My friend, instead of waking the female up to ask what to do when he got the the 495/95 split, kept driving, on 495.  As such, he did one big circle around DC.  Time wasted = 3 hours.  Most ironic part of the story, his nickname was Goose (you know, like Maverick’s nav).

You are wrong about one thing, the navigation.  If there is one thing guys like more than not asking for directions, it’s gadgets.  I look forward to a time when I have some excess money and can buy a tomtom or garmin myself.  Guys get off on that shit.  I think they should make cooler voices though…imagine if you could load Snoop Dog, “hang a left my muthafucka, shiiit.” (I may have heard that somewhere else, but still, even if it’s not original it’s damned funny).

Oh yeah. One more thing.  We may suck at following directions, but at least we don’t suck at driving.

HE SAID: Nicknames

I’ve had way too many in my lifetime – Jerms, Germ, J-Dawg, J-Flex, J-Money, Howard, Howie, Hoppa, Yourmeaho (that is my Hebrew name…I butchered the spelling), Jezza, J-How, and probably lots more behind my back.  Quite frankly, I love them, all of them.  Each one holds a special place in my heart.  Even my brother’s nickname for my serve in tennis “the Jeremy serve” is special to me.  If only because I know it comes from a place of jealousy, because we both know my serve is superior to his.  But it’s not really his fault he is only 5’5, yet I digress.  Here are some of my favorite nicknames and the backstory…

#1 – “GAR” Really the impetus for this entire post, calling one of our friends Gar is pretty much my favorite thing to do, ever.  Holiday party, 2006.  Nice little get together, probably about 25 people or so at the peak.  I may or may not have fed one of our friends, who I’ll call Linda, a bit too much red wine (Ed & Sarah, I do apologize for bringing red wine to your white carpeted apartment, I never got that memo).  Well, towards the end of the night Linda’s brother spotted her from outside making out pretty effing heavily with a friends little brother.  Appropriately, he screamed, “GET A ROOM”.  Hence, Gar.  We still call her that.  In fact, a postscript to the story is at a hungover brunch about a year ago, a friend of the family thought Linda’s mom should know why we call her Gar.  Great stuff.

#2 “Sophistication Station” At summer camp about a decade ago, one of our friends was a few years our elder, and thus a few years wiser.  There is no way he was more sophisticated though.  I think we were going for that ironical thing, like when a 6’7 350 pound dude gets called “Tiny.” Anyway, he did quite well with the ladies that summer, hence the nickname.

#3 – “Ian”  Not a nickname, I know.  About 8 or 9 summers ago our camp staff all got some soccer t-shirts made, and we all could pick our own name for the back.  I chose “Maverick,” since Top Gun was a big movie that summer and Tom Cruise was not yet a crazy scientologist.  Of course there was “Station”.  One of our friends, named Ian, went with “Ian.”  Not very clever.  But at least he finally made the blog.

#4 – “J-Flex” – One of my many nicknames.  Look at that picture, that is my bicep…need I explain any further?

HE SAID: Case of the Mondays?

A couple of recut trailers to start out: Up 1st, Top Gun becomes a love story; second- The Shining becomes a romantic comedy.  This one is just plain wrong.

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I think all things being equal, I’d rather watch Baywatch than Lost…or I could just watch this.

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Here is a printable NCAA Tourney Bracket, even though gambling is illegal.  And you all must promise to report any of your winnings to the IRS next year.  And no, I didn’t include a link to the Women’s tourney….UConn is going to win.

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This is an incredibly shameless plug, but seriously, just effing follow us on twitter.  Here is the link – http://twitter.com/hesaidnshesaid.  Even if you think twitter is lame and you aren’t on it, sign up.  Following the right things is hugely beneficial…for example, where did Pearl Jam first announce their forthcoming US Tour? Twitter.