Breaking My Chopsticks

Today I had planned on writing a post about “people I don’t feel sorry for.” However, this freakin’ chopstick debate has escalated quickly, so I feel compelled to respond. From the comments on Beth’s blog, you would think I was the head of FEMA or something. I had a nightmare last night that a bunch of hungry Asians broke into my room and somehow bludgeoned me with chopsticks. Terrifying. So today I’ve been walking around with my head on swivel, which, according to Ron Burgundy, is what you have to do when you find yourself in a vicious cockfight.

Anyway, back to the chopstick debate. Judging by the strong feelings people seem to have about these pointless, wooden sticks, don’t be surprised if in 08’, you see Giuliani and Hillary Clinton debating this subject.

Here are Beth’s comments …

What is your definition of efficient, Bill? Being able to consume the largest amount of food as fast as you can? That's not very healthy, if you ask me. Doesn't your body digest food better when it's consuming smaller portions in slow increments? Wouldn't that be more efficient?

When you use chopsticks you carry smaller portions of food and prolongs the duration of the meal. Sure, chopsticks are not for the yuppies-on-the-go, what with all of the fancy schmancy McDonalds in every corner to tempt you with french fries to go with your SuperSized indigestion.

My definition of efficient is pretty much the same as the dictionary’s, which is: acting or producing effectively with a minimum of waste, expense, or unnecessary effort. Exhibiting a high ratio of output to input.

It is true that eating slowly is healthier because it allows time for your brain to process “being full”, which tends to make a person eat less. However, is it the duty of your eating utensils to monitor your food consumption? I don’t think that is in their job description. If drinking through a straw meant you drank less alcohol, would you stick a straw in your beer glass, or would you take responsibility for how much you drank? If you were someone who is constantly early to appointments, would you argue that you should take a horse because it takes more time to get where you are going than a car? Or would adjust your own personal habits to fix the problem?

It would be nice if people would take ownership of how much they are eating, instead of relying on a fork, spoon, knife or chopstick to do it for them. Where’s the discipline? Maybe the problem isn’t the fork and spoon being vastly more efficient than a chopstick; maybe the problem is undisciplined eating habits. It’s sad that there are people who turn to a wooden stick to keep them healthy, instead of monitoring their own meal portions.

Bottom line, don’t blame the superior fork and spoon for your own eating shortcomings.

Well, if we took your attitude of dismissing our past simply because we've created something far more superior, then we should be able to go ahead and destroy the Coliseum and replace it with something like your Mile High Stadium. While you're at it let's just go to some of our oldest museums and trash every priceless piece of artwork you can get your hands on. Why keep those ratty old things when we can make better pictures with our digital cameras! Hell, we can bring people back to life and have them dance with vacuum cleaners because of computers!

Actually the Coliseum would be a terrible venue to hold an event at compared to Mile High Stadium. The Coliseum would offer less leg room and space (since people are generally taller and larger than they were during the Roman Empire), no concession stands, no seatbacks, limited bathroom facilities, no scoreboards, no instant replay, no cupholders and no luxury boxes – just to name a few of its shortcomings. However, we shouldn’t destroy the Coliseum because it’s nice to look at and it’s part of history. We shouldn’t hold a football game there because it’s vastly inferior compared to the stadiums of today and would be a horrible place to watch a game. So how does this tie-in to chopsticks? Just like the Coliseum was great in its day, so were chopsticks. But those days are over. Spoons and forks give us more options, are more efficient, and are more advanced – just like Mile High Stadium when comparing it to the Colisuem … in fact someday, someone we'll be having this same debate about how archaic spoons and forks are compared to the eating utensils of the future.

Oh, and you don’t measure art based on efficiency; you evaluate it on historical importance, aesthetics, subject matter, emotional reaction, etc … so that argument doesn’t even make sense.

This technology of which you hold so much stock in, isn't all that great, Bill. True, I've benefited from technology, and I'm not about to live without it, but even you must admit not everything technology offers is always better.

I’d agree, but I would also say more times than not, better technology is an improvement, not a step back. More importantly, usually when there is a problem stemming from technology, it’s the users of the technology’s problem, not the fault of the technology itself. More on this later.

And what is so wrong with having a romantic attachment to something that was indicative of simpler times....something that is tied to aeons of culture and history that no amount of technological advancement can ever replace?

Nothing is wrong with that at all. But admit it’s a romantic attachment and not a logical argument. I don’t have a problem if you long for-the-way-it-was, but call it that, don’t try to reason your way through the discussion.

Did you know that the great scholar, Confucius, who was a vegetarian, helped develop chopsticks? He believed that knives would remind the people of animals being killed in slaughterhouses, and thought they were too violent to be used at the table. They had to find another way to serve their food, and I'm guessing small pieces of wood were all they had.

Yes, there is something definitely very wrong in that indeed. Shame on Confucius for wanting to promote non-violence!

C’mon Beth … I doubt if many, if not any, people think of the slaughtering process while eating a delicious steak using a fork and knife. Plus, vegetarians are not the only one who use chopsticks, and eating with them certainly does not prevent animal cruelty. There is no correlation between vegetarianism and chopsticks. This point is a stretch.

Look, I'm not saying I'd drop my spoon and fork and eat with chopsticks for the rest of my life. I'll be damned, though, if I let you disrespect an entire culture's eating habits, especially one so closely tied to my own.

But the point I'd like to drive home is that NO ONE is forcing you to use chopsticks, Bill.

I never said anyone was forcing me to use them. I was just saying I think they don’t serve much purpose nowadays, especially in America. If I was in an Asian country, I would fully expect to eat with chopsticks. Just like I fully expect to see a lot of people riding bikes and using rigshaws as a form of public transportation. If I said taxis, subways and buses are better, that wouldn’t mean I was disrespecting the culture – it just means there are better and more efficient ways of doing things.

Now, here is a comment from one of Beth’s loyal readers …

Using chopsticks is the most efficient way to eat noodles. That's why I use them. If they had chopsticks in Italian restaurants I would use them to eat my spaghetti too.
On modern amenities: just because something makes some tasks easier and quicker does not mean it delivers a better quality of life.

Take e-mail for instance. I can think of so many angry e-mails I've typed up in anger only to make things worse. Anger that could have been diffused in the older days, when I would have had to look for a piece of paper and a pen, an envelope and a stamp. And since it took so much effort to write an angry letter I would've thought about the whole thing again and I would've decided that it was too petty after all and just let it go.

Going back to chopsticks, it's not like anyone is being forced to use them even in Chinese restaurants. I wouldn't pick on anyone because they use forks on food that's meant to be eaten with chopsticks. Why pick on those that use them?

- Leese

I want to respond to this because it goes back to what I was saying earlier about how when a problem with technology arises, it’s often not technology’s problem, but rather the person using the technology. Don’t blame email for your tendency to respond to people without taking time to compose your thoughts and “cool down.” Take responsibility for your actions and anger, don’t lay them off on email.

If someone over-eats, don’t blame the silverware, blame the eater. If someone kills someone with a gun, don’t blame the gun, blame the shooter. If someone dies of lung cancer from smoking for 50 years, don’t blame the cigarettes, blame the smoker. If you have a temper problem and use email as a quick way to improperly vent your anger, don’t blame email, blame yourself.

It’d be nice if more people were responsible and accountable for their actions, instead of blaming everything else for their problems. As Warden Norton once said, “salvation lies within.”

I know that rant was a little off-topic, but it’s an important topic that is obviously bigger than our monumental chopstick debate.

And just in case this was missed, I can use chopsticks properly! My argument is not a result of chopstick envy or secretly longing to use them. Just like when I say cars are better than horses, it’s not because I want to ride a horse to work, I just choose not to.

My Triumphant Return

“Creativity comes from kindness.”

- George Clooney

(Are you sure, George? Granted I’m no Shakespeare, but I’m pretty sure that isn’t where it comes from - I know a lot of creative and original assholes.)

Anyway, in the immortal words of Eminem, “guess who’s back? Back again?” That’s right, like Michael Corleone after he visits Sicily in The Godfather - I’m back.

Over the last few weeks I’ve had to study and take the NASD’s Series 6 examination, took a 24-hour trip to Chicago - and subsequently make a really big life decision - and organize and participate in a very successful Hurricane Katrina fundraiser. So I’ve been really busy. But now I am reenergized, ready to do some heavy lifting, anxious to write again and get back to posting on a regular basis. Thanks for your patience and I promise it will be worth your time.

First thing first, the Katrina Drink-a-thon was a big success. Assuming everyone collects what everyone said they were going to pledge, we raised over $9,000! Very exciting! And we are very proud and thankful to everyone who helped out – from the drinkers, to the sober spotters, to those who gave money – THANK YOU! Please visit the official Katrina Drink-a-thon Web site for a bunch of pictures and information about the night, media links and other stuff.

I was planning on keeping a running journal of the evening like I did for Bryn’s birthday and when I watched Forrest Gump, but unfortunately my drunk ass wasn’t able to stay focused enough to write anything anyone would fine interesting in reading. In fact, these are my only coherent notes from the night …

- Our official Katrina Drink-a-thon t-shirts that read, “drunk.” and “sober.” are big hits. We should figure a way to raise or make money selling them. Another good idea for a t-shirt would be one that reads, “Yes, I’ll have another.”

- The funny thing about fundraising is that when you ask people to donate money and they say no, everyone has a story to tell you on why they can’t ...

“I already gave.”

“I don’t like the Red Cross.”

“I hate George Bush and FEMA.”

“I am into a local mobster for $300 already and he is going to break my thumbs if I don’t make good on my debt this week.”

I don’t care if you don’t give, that’s your decision. It’s okay. Really. Don’t feel guilty to say no, I didn’t/don’t take it personally. If you can afford to give, but already gave, great! That’s what is most important – not that you donated through the Drink-a-thon. If you can’t afford to give, that’s understandable, too. It was really entertaining to hear people give excuses for why they can’t donate money, as if I would get mad or have a bad opinion of them or something.

- Sitting next to our booths was a guy proudly donning a Missouri Tiger t-shirt. At first he was excited that we noticed his allegiance to Mizzou, only to be rendered speechless when we showered him with a steady and heavy stream of “Muck Fizzou”, “Rock Chalk, Jayhawks” and wheat waving. Good times. He had no idea what to say when confronted by a half-dozen cocky, fundraising, Jayhawk fans. I wish I had taken a picture of the expression on his face. Priceless.

- Evidently I had three drinks in me by 9:33 and Lucas hit double-digits at 10:45.

And that’s it. That’s all the notes I took. Totally disappointing. I wish I had more for you, but I don’t. So I apologize. You’re just going to have to trust me that it was a fun night, filled with great fundraising stories and inspirational moments abounding everywhere. It probably was one of the greatest nights in drinking history, but I don’t have any written proof. My bad.

DRAMATIC TOPIC CHANGE

Last week at work I was having a conversation right in front of the restrooms with a lady I rarely, if ever, talk to (in fact, I don’t even know her name). We were having the typical work conversation, standing two feet from the men’s and women’s bathrooms. So as we are talking, one of our co-workers opens the door to the men’s restroom and walks out. Right as he opens the restroom door, the other guy already inside the bathroom, starts to unload really loudly. I mean, this guy is totally crapping his brains out, and it’s so loud that it echoes out into the hallway where I am having this conversation. Talk about awkward. I barely know this women and we are sharing a moment in which we are listening to someone's bowel movements. Obviously we both noticed, but didn’t know each other well enough to comment or laugh. Really funny, but I felt bad for the guy crapping inside. Poor soul is just trying to take care of business, and through no fault of his own, someone opens the bathroom door for the whole 10th floor to hear him shitting.

And finally, my unprovoked attack on chopsticks last month caused a small stir. Evidently, there are some people out there who feel very strongly about eating with those stupid wooden sticks. So I saved an email I received from my Asian friend, Beth, defending them. Now Beth is a fine human being who happens to hail from The Philippines, and feels a cultural attachment to chopsticks. I guess those sentiments are not unlike the countless everyday examples of Texans who still ride horses to work because they feel a similar cultural connection – but I digress. Anyway, here is what Beth had to say:

“Leave the chopsticks alone, will ya? They represent humanity’s first step towards civilization. They used their hands to eat before the chopsticks came along. And maybe if more Americans used chopsticks, obesity wouldn’t be such a problem here. I find myself eating less when I’m using chopsticks. I mean, seriously, how many obese Asian people do you see (apart from the Sumo wrestlers – and they’re revered in their country)? It’s not just a romantic attachment. You just hate it because you can’t use it properly.”

Okay, first: They represent humanity’s first step towards civilization. They used their hands to eat before the chopsticks came along.

I guess that means we shouldn’t use gas, matches and electricity to start fires then. I challenge Beth to start a fire this winter in New Jersey by only rubbing chopsticks together, since that process would represent humanity’s first steps in creating fire. Please rent Cast Away starring Tom Hanks as a training video. Also, if you don’t want to start a fire using chopsticks, I want you to use only wood in your life – no more metal, steel or plastic for you, Beth.

And maybe if more Americans used chopsticks, obesity wouldn’t be such a problem here. I find myself eating less when I’m using chopsticks. I mean, seriously, how many obese Asian people do you see (apart from the Sumo wrestlers – and they’re revered in their country)?

Okay, then I want you to sell your Honda Civic and buy a brand new horse. I mean, cars are harmful to the environment (just like obesity is harmful to the body) and the best way to cut down on poisoning the atmosphere would be to not to drive your car. I bet you would travel a lot less if you had to take a horse to go out with your friends. Plus, I don’t think measuring inefficiency is the best way to evaluate something either. I am sure you do eat less because you are using chopsticks; that shows how inefficient they really are when compared to a fork and a spoon. Sort of like how you would travel less on horseback if comparing that to a car.

It’s not just a romantic attachment. You just hate it because you can’t use it properly.

It is a romantic attachment, otherwise you wouldn’t see chopsticks just in Asian restaurants and Beth wouldn’t be saying things like, “they represent humanity’s first step towards civilization.” Eating with chopsticks is the equivalent of using a bow and arrow, or using a typewriter, or staying at a hotel that doesn’t have a television or indoor plumbing, or buying a corded telephone, heck, even sending a letter in the mail to someone who has email – they are all things in the past that we have emotional attachments to, even though technology offers us better and more efficient solutions.

And for the record, this American can use chopsticks properly.

Update On Hurricane Katrina Drink-a-thon

I want to update everyone on the Drink-a-thon and once again ask for your support.

First, a big thank you to all of you who have already pledged or donated money. I sincerely appreciate all you can give or have given, whether it is $1/drink, $10 lump sum or whatever. Remember, the money isn’t going to me, it’s going to all the people in Louisiana, Alabama and Mississippi who have lost everything – so every little bit counts.

Second, word on the Drink-a-thon has hit our local media. The Rocky Mountain News’, Penny Parker, mentioned us in her column last Friday. Here is www.katrinadrinkathon.org. If you click on “Make a pledge”, that will allow you to make either a pledge or a lump sum donation. (Donations and pledges will be collected after the event)

So this is my final plea to you – please pledge or donate money. Please.

If you have already given and can’t give any more, great! Please don’t feel guilty, the point is to help the needy, regardless of it’s through the Drink-a-thon or some other charity. Also, if you can’t afford to give, don’t feel guilty, I totally understand.

For everyone else, anything you can spare would be greatly appreciated, $.25, $1.00, $5.00.

Thanks so much for your support!
Bill

Hurricane Katrina Drink-a-thon

So the reason I haven't written in a while is because I have been busy trying to figure out the best way I could help our Americans who lost everything because of the hurricane. As I wrote before, I was tremendously saddened by the destruction that Hurricane Katrina brought to the Alabama, Louisiana, and Mississippi. So longing to do more than chip-in a few bucks and keeping them in my “thoughts and prayers,” as everyone likes to say; a few of my resourceful friends and me have decided to organize a fundraiser to collect donations for The American Red Cross Hurricane Katrina Relief Fund.

On September 24, we will be holding a drink-a-thon. This event will operate like any other "a-thon" type event. We will be collecting pledges on a per drink basis. Your total donation will be the amount you pledge times the number of drinks I consume on the night of the 24th. 100% of the money we collect is going to the American Red Cross. The overhead costs of this fundraiser (i.e. drinks, web site, etc) are being donated by the participants.

Our goal is to collect $10,000 dollars.

I am sure that at his point you have several questions regarding the safety of this event. I assure you that all of the bases have been covered. There is a list of rules posted at www.katrinadrinkathon.org that will govern how the event will transpire. Everything has been considered; from how will we account for people who don't want to drink, to how we will be getting home after the event. "Sober spotters" will be present to ensure that good judgments are made even in the later hours of the event. To be honest, this will probably be the safest night out we have ever had.

Your next thought is probably, "Why not do something more productive than drinking?" The answer to this is simple. It's easier to motivate people my age to participate in a fundraiser where the activity is something they enjoy. How many people do you think would have signed up for a Hurricane Katrina Weed-pull-a-thon? The response to this idea by my peers has been overwhelming, and I think it is because they get to do something fun while doing something else they know they should. The real work here is in gathering pledges before the event and collecting the donations after.

I would also like to invite you to peruse the Questions page at http://www.katrinadrinkathon.org/4.aspx for more information about this fundraiser.

Hopefully I have convinced you of the validity of this fundraiser, so now comes the sales pitch. I would like to ask you to sponsor us. I understand that a lot of people have already given and if you have then great! But if you haven't or can give a little more then I would really appreciate it. If you don't like the idea of sponsoring drinking, then we can also accept a lump sum donation for a fixed dollar amount.

Thank you for at least taking a look at the site. We were informed this morning that our local paper, Westword, will be doing a story about our fundraiser sometime during the next week.

I would like to ask you to ask anybody you know for pledges on our behalf. The goal we set is very high and the only chance we have of achieving that goal is if we can get lots of help!

Collaring Some Observations

After two consecutive sad, gloomy and joyless posts, it’s time for some non-melancholy observations!

- I know this is going to sound really vain, but I recently Google’d a sentence out of one of my postings and when it came up on Google, I got really excited and proud! For some reason it feels like a major life accomplishment.

- I don’t know if this is a product of getting older or what, but I hate the fact that I am a more emotional person now than I was 3 years ago. I was watching Nine Innings From Ground Zero on HBO this morning when I was getting ready for work and eating Cocoa-Puffs, and it almost made me cry! Seriously it did. What the hell is wrong with me? And last week I was watching this 9/11 show on the National Geographic Channel and I almost cried that time, too. I don’t understand where all this emotion is coming from?! Has this type of transformation happened to anyone else or am I turning into a pansy? I need to know.

- What’s the deal with Texans and their obsession with their state flag? They put that freakin’ flag on everything and anything possible. Does any other state have a bigger love affair with their flag than the state of Texas?

(Do most people, besides Texans, even know what their state flag looks like?)

- Speaking of states, I saw a commercial the other day that suggested Mississippi is the hardest state to spell. I’d have to respectfully disagree. I would say Massachusetts (I needed spell check to get that right) is by far the hardest, followed by Pennsylvania (easy to confuse s-y-l combination) and then maybe Connecticut, Illinois or Tennessee. I would think Mississippi is easier than all of those states to spell.

- Yesterday I was eating a bag of the new cheesier Nacho-cheese Doritos and the color of these new and improved Doritos can best be described as “radioactive orange.”

- Speaking of food, I hate chop-sticks. I think they’re stupid - besides giving you something to play with while you wait for your food. Other than that, they are outdated and less effective than silverware, so why the heck do we still use them? Actually, I think I know why, because there is some weird romantic attachment to chop-sticks. Give it up, people. You still use all the other modern conveniences of dining, stop unnecessarily clinging to archaic eating utensils.

- Why do we teach little kids to call trains choo-choo trains? We don’t call automobiles, frooom-frooom cars or planes errrrr-errrre airplanes – it seems strange to teach kids to label locomotives in such a descriptive fashion. Not to mention the eventual disappoint the child will experience boarding a train that doesn’t go choo-choo (since most don’t anymore) or the confusion of stepping onto a Monorail at Disneyland.

- Attention all men! The flipping-up of your collar thing makes you look really stupid. And it’s just not me talking here, I have yet to meet a women who is a fan of this recent style trend. Next to white men getting both of their ears pierced, this is one of my least favorite fashion trends of the last 10 years. It has to go, so please stop. Please. You look ridiculous, like those two guys from the Bacardi commercials.

- And finally, the topic of cell-phone etiquette has been written about time and time again, so I am not going soapbox over an already saturated topic. But it’s hilarious how when in a social setting, i.e. – a bar or a restaurant, people can’t sit alone. If you and a friend are out, and your friend leaves to go to the bathroom, you have to pull out your cell-phone and text message someone, or check the time, or play a game on your phone or call someone, or check your voicemail. Happens all the time, you just have to do it. It’s almost like you are a loser if you are sitting by yourself, not having some sort of social interaction (or the appearance of a social interaction) – and the cell phone makes you look popular and wanted.

It’s a very similar phenomenon to when two people are sitting together, and one gets a phone call, and the other person inevitably pulls-out their cell-phone and calls someone or checks their voicemail or text messages someone. Certainly you can’t look like the unwanted or lonely person in the group, either.

And the best part of this law is that it doesn’t only apply to groups of two. If two people in a group of three are on their phones, you know what that third person will be doing before long.

For the record, women are far guiltier of this then men.

A Loss For Words

Maybe it’s just me, but sometimes it’s hard to find the right way, the right context, the right approach, to express emotions when something happens that is beyond words. It’s easy to crack jokes about how a restaurant labels its men’s and women’s restrooms or pros and cons of certain gambling strategies, but it’s far more challenging to wrap your heart and mind around ending a relationship or what has happened in New Orleans.

I have wanted to write about both of those events over the last week, but I have had a hard time finding the right voice to do that successfully. I guess I am afraid of not being able to find the right combination of words that would give each of those events their proper due. Now don’t get me wrong, my own personal loss pales in comparison to what has happened in New Orleans and Mississippi, but I don’t want to accidentally detract from the significance of either of those of things by throwing out a half-hearted effort or saying the wrong thing or not saying enough.

Even though I have received great response from Friday’s post, I can’t shake the feeling that I didn’t pay proper tribute to a person and a relationship that has meant so much to me over the last few years. I watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind last night to see if I could gain some sort of perspective, but instead, all it did was confirm in my mind that I didn’t do enough to commemorate how much this person touched my life. So now what do I do? Do I try to write more? Do I let it be?

I have watched in horror as the tragedy in New Orleans unfolded (by the way, that is the proper use of the word tragedy). I am not an expert in disaster planning or recovery, but it seems like more should have been done last week in response to the hurricane, and more should have been done the 24-48 hours before the hurricane hit mainland. Hurricanes aren’t tornadoes or earthquakes, in the sense we don’t know when and where they are going to strike, but I remember reading and watching CNN days in advance about how serious the hurricane was. So why didn’t more people evacuate? Well, New Orleans isn’t Beverly Hills and a lot of the residences couldn’t afford to flee. Understandable. So why wasn’t the mayor, the governor, FEMA and Homeland Security, sending in boats, buses, additional planes, whatever, to get these people out and brace for the worst? If we can’t properly respond to an event that we got a few day notice on, how can we properly respond to an event, like 9/11, that we don’t get any? Since 9/11, aren’t we suppose to be more prepared for the unthinkable? Judging by the response so far, it doesn’t look we are. Scary.

I think one of the problems we have in this country is that we rush to judgment. We don’t allow enough time for things to set-in and for us to have the proper time to evaluate what has happened. That being said, I think all of the criticism being thrown at the government, both local and federal, is justified. There is no reason the people of New Orleans should have waited for help as long as they did. Remember, after 9/11, President Bush was at Ground Zero, standing on the rubble, talking to firefighters the very next day. President Bush played golf in California and attended an Astros game before touching down in New Orleans days later and ending his vacation early. Maybe there was nothing practically he could have done, but at least make an effort, or appear that you are doing something, heck anything (just like he did in NYC). I guess I am just disappointed that those in power didn’t do more for the people of New Orleans.

So I have these two events in my life that I wish there was more I could do. I wish I lived closer to New Orleans so I could drive down there and help. I gave money, but that seems so impersonal and easy, even though it’s probably what they need most at this point. And then I have this loss of a relationship. I wish there was something I could do, even though I know the prudent thing to do is to do nothing. But just like giving cash seemed easy and impersonal to the people of New Orleans; doing nothing and writing a short post comparing my situation to Joel’s and Clementine’s in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, seems easy and uninspired.

I guess in both instances, I need to take my own advice – and don’t rush to action or judgment. For someone as impatient as me, who demands actions and results on my timeframe, not someone else’s, that will be a difficult task.

My Spotless Mind

My favorite screenwriter (yes, I have one) is by far Charlie Kaufman. He has written two of the most creative screenplays in the history of the world, Adaptation and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

I wrote a few weeks ago that I had to say goodbye to a close friend. Well, I had to say goodbye to someone else. However, this person just wasn’t just a good friend or someone I dated for a while, this person was one of my best friends and someone for whom I love. For a life-long commitment-phoebe, that’s hard for me to say.

Unfortunately, saying goodbye to this person at this stage in our lives was the right thing to do. (Though I’m not sure you can ever truly say goodbye to anyone who leaves such an imprint in your life) The Shakespearian-like tragedy of this relationship is that minus one substantial variable, we would have an amazing relationship and possibly even a marriage.

Anyway, without turning this into a session with Dr Laura, I’ve been going through a rough time lately. Between saying goodbye to a close friend and then having to say goodbye to a best friend that I love a short time later, I haven’t been this melancholy since KU lost to Syracuse in the NCAA championship game on my birthday two years ago. In all seriousness though, I haven’t been this sad since my mom died.

I have to admit that what scares me the most is how I will be remembered by this person. In Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, both Jim Carrey’s character, “Joel” and Kate Winslet’s character, “Clementine” have their memories erased after an unsuccessful and painful relationship. Halfway through his mind-erasing procedure, “Joel” starts having doubts about giving up his memories. Finally, as the last of his memories are about to be erased forever, he has this conversation with “Clementine” in his memory …

JOEL
I still thought you were going to save me. Even after everything.

CLEMENTINE
I know.

JOEL
It would be different, if we could just give it another go around.

CLEMENTINE
Remember me. Try your best. Maybe we can.

Perfect.

In this scene, Clementine knows that “now” isn’t the right time for their relationship.

Clementine wants Joel to try his best to remember, to try his best in life – and everything will be fine.

Clementine realizes that life is strange enough, and that there is enough magic in the moonlight, that maybe someday they’ll find each other again.

Clementine’s last words to Joel are exactly how I feel right now.

I want this person to remember. I want her to try her best in her life and try her best to remember everything.

And when I wonder if I will ever talk to this person again, or see her big, blue eyes again, or laugh with her again, or hug her again, or wonder if we will ever get another go around - all I can say is ...

Remember me. Try your best. Maybe we can.

Finding Forrest

Forrest Gump is a movie that vexes me. The movie was released in 94’, years before I really became a mature movie watcher. Back then, I didn’t know what a good movie was, and during that time, Forrest Gump topped my favorites list. When the movie originally came out, I saw it in the theatres several times and I was seriously rooting for the film during the Academy Awards while I was in Vegas (can you imagine me sitting in a Vegas hotel room watching the Oscars instead of being out on the Strip?). That year, Forrest Gump had to compete against one of my other favorite movies, The Shawshank Redemption (though it wasn’t one of my favorites at the time) and Pulp Fiction.

But for some reason, Forrest Gump hasn’t held up very well over time. When I am asked what my favorite movies are, Forrest Gump has slipped from the top spot, to at least the 5 spot – trailing far behind: The Godfather, American Beauty, Adaptation and The Shawshank Redemption. So why did this classic American film slip so much? Was it the Forrest Gump-craze that swept the nation, not unlike the craze we would go through five years later with Titanic, that somehow detracted from the film’s quality and message? Was it a perceived lack of real-life, everyday themes? Was it just another role where Tom Hanks played the good guy? Was it being desensitized to the improbable events that made the movie so memorable in the first place? Was it too cute of a film to be taken seriously, despite winning Best Picture?

On Sunday afternoon, I sat down to critically watch Forrest Gump – to answer some of those questions and to once and for all figure out if this movie is deserving to be called one of my favorites, or one of those movies from my movie-watching-youth, that I thought was good, only to grow-up and realize the movie is terribly flawed.

Like I did with the birthday celebration last week, here is a running account of Forrest Gump …

- Ahh yes, the classic feather-dropping scene kicks off the movie, accompanied by the beautiful Forrest Gump Theme. Great start. I may have just spotted a few goosebumps on my arm.

- As Forrest sits at the bus stop, on that legendary park bench, he picks up the feather and opens up his suitcase. Thanks to the zoom button on the remote control to the DVD player, I am able to zoom-in and see what some the contents of Forrest’s suitcase are: his ping-pong paddle, his Bubba-Gump Shrimp hat, an I Love New York pin, a Fortune Magazine with him and Lt. Dan featured on the cover, and the Curious George book that he places the feather in.

- First memorable line on the movie, “life is like a box chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get.” One of the traits of a great movie is the ability to create memorable and quotable lines. While Forrest Gump doesn’t provide a lot of adult wisdom like, “I’m gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse.” Or a lot of quotable humor like, “a little push-push in the bush.” It does have a surplus of dialog that has found a permanent home in the American language. Quite an accomplishment.

- We flashback to Forrest’s childhood … He is getting braces put on his legs while his family physician smokes in his face. Ahh, the good ole’ days when smoking was pretty much acceptable anywhere. Nothing says health better than a doctor smoking in the examination room. Of course back then, Johnny Carson smoked on-air while doing The Tonight Show and smoking was allowed on airplanes. Amazing what we didn’t know about smoking fifty years ago.

- I am quickly getting tired of the voiceovers. As the great Robert McKee once said, “God help you if you use voiceover! Any idiot can write character narration!” Hanks and Field are acting their brains out right now - there is no need to tell me what they are thinking and feeling – I can see that on their faces and in their performances.

Of course, three of my all-times favorite movies, Adaptation, The Shawshank Redemption and Goodfellas, all contain extended voiceover. I think the best way to use voiceover is to tell details of the plot/story that would be too long and unnecessary to explain in scenes, and avoid using it to explain characters emotions.

- In one of the more … um … how would you describe it? … unforgettable scenes, Mrs. Gump has sex with Forrest’s elementary school principal in order to get Forrest admitted into public school. I’m not a psychologist, but listening to your mom screw your school principal has to be seriously psychologically damaging, right? Of course, the way Forrest openly mocks the principal’s sex sounds/grunts after he proudly says to Forrest, “your momma sure does care about your schoolin’, son,” is classic.

- Moments later, Forrest asks Mrs. Gump what is “vacation,” and she replies by saying, “vacation is when you go somewhere, and you don’t ever come back.” Evidently, Mr. Gump left Forrest and Mrs. Gump, and Mrs. Gump’s explanation is to tell Forrest that his Dad went on “vacation.” Kinda a dangerous strategy. What happens later on in life when someone tells Forrest to take a vacation - it’s going to scare the crap out of him.

- In the first of a many run-ins with celebrities, Forrest meets Elvis Presley, who is staying at the Gump house. In the following scene, Mrs. Gump has sex with Elvis, and as he is leaving tells Forrest, “your momma sure does care about rock ‘n’ roll, son.”

- In one of the many heartwrenching/breaking scenes, Forrest rides the school bus for the first time only to be summarily rejected by all of his classmates. Ouch. For personal reasons, this scene hits a little too close to home. That’s all I have to say about that. Anyway, this is also where Forrest meets his destiny, Jenny. Jenny, like a true woman says, “are you stupid or something?” Which leads to memorable line #2, “Momma says, stupid is as stupid does.” Sounds like true love.

- Call me sappy, but I love the “peas and carrots” analogy.

- Despite Sally Field only being 10 years older than Tom Hanks, she is doing an exemplary job as his mother. To Forrest, his mother is larger than life and the source of all wisdom, and Field is just nailing the part.

- However, Forrest just remarked that, “Momma says miracles happen every day …” Dang it, it’s an oxymoron to say that miracles happen everyday! Almost by definition, miracles can’t happen everyday. Didn’t we just discuss this like two weeks ago!? I guess I need to forward my posting to the Gump’s. I take back what I just said about Sally Field.

- “Run Forrest, run!” 3rd memorable line of the movie. I wonder what Forrest runs the 40 in?

- Thanks again to the remote for the DVD player, I am able to watch the University of Alabama football sequences in super-slow motion. Turns out, when Forrest returns the kickoff for a touchdown, he avoids 15 defenders from the opposing team. For those of you who don’t follow football, each team has 11 players on the field. The fact that Forrest just returned a kickoff against 15 players IS a miracle.

After the game, Mrs. Gump has sex with Alabama head football coach, Paul “Bear’ Bryant, even though Forrest has a full-ride football scholarship to the university. As the coach leaves, he tells Forrest, “your momma sure does care about special teams, son.”

- In another awkward sex scene, after touching Jenny’s breasts, Forrest inadvertently ejaculates all over Jenny’s roommate’s bathrobe. Welcome to college dorm life! Afterwards, Forrest remarks that he is “dizzy” and needs a sandwich.

- All-American football player Forrest Gump heads to White House to meet JFK. While Forrest is chugging Dr. Peppers, Mrs. Gump heads into the Oval Office and seduces the president. As JFK leaves the East Wing, he tells Forrest, “your momma sure does care about the Cuban missile crisis, son.”

- After college graduation, Forrest is cornered by Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld, who convince him to join the Army and head to Iraq. On the Army bus, Forrest meets his new best friend Bubba Bush, who tells him how much he like shrimp as Forrest corrects his grammar and tells him how to pronounce the word, “nuclear.”

All joking aside, the supporting characters gives this film a lot of its life. While Hanks gives his normal A+ Hanks performance and Forrest’s charm is endearing, and the cameos and historical references are interesting; Bubba, Momma Gump and Lt. Dan are the glue that holds the film together. Bubba’s simplicity, sincerity and childlike friendship, Momma Gump’s unconditional love and Lt. Dan’s anger and pain, are what adds context to Forrest’s almost fairytale like, though inspirational, stories. Without them, we have no contrast to Forrest’s innocent world. If Mykelti Williamson, Sally Field and Gary Sinise don’t dominate in those roles, we lose the emotional impact of film, and it unequivocally comes across as hokey.

(I also think that it’s the strength of the supporting roles that separates a really good movie from a great movie. For example, without stellar performances by the Fitt’s next door, the Real Estate King and Angela Hayes, American Beauty loses way too much of everything to be considered a great movie. Same with Fredo, Sonny, Luca Brasi, Tessio, Clemenza and Tom Hagen in The Godfather. Or Brooks, Warden Norton, Hadley, Bogs and Tommy in The Shawshank Redemption. While it’s obviously important to have the right people in the lead roles, often the supporting roles is what gives the film its character (pun intended). To further illustrate this point, lets look at an example from professional sports. While the Bulls absolutely needed Michael Jordan on the team to win their championships, it was the emergence of Scottie Pippen, in combination with the supporting performances from Steve Kerr, Dennis Rodman, John Paxson, Horace Grant and Bill Cartwright that took the Bulls from a good team to a dynasty. That same philosophy applies to movies.)

Back to the movie …

- During basic training, some of Forrest’s Army buddies masturbate to a picture of Jenny in Playboy. Poor Forrest, that one had to hurt.

- In one of my favorite scenes, before being sent to Vietnam, Forrest goes to visit Jenny who is “performing” at a local “venue.” Of course, the “venue” is a strip club and Jenny is singing prior to stripping. Forrest totally ignores all of those rather large and important details and instead views the setting and circumstances as Jenny’s dream of being a folk singer coming to fruition.

I have to admit every time I watch this scene I can’t help but be envious of Forrest’s optimism. Okay, maybe his 75 IQ doesn’t allow him to see past the things that us normal adults do , but the ability to overlook or ignore all the ugliness that is surrounding Jenny in the name of love is admirable. Wouldn’t it be great if we were able to do that in similar situations?

- You know you are watching a movie about Vietnam when the song, “Fortunate Son” is playing while viewing footage of helicopters flying over a jungle.

- One of the more interesting debates that surrounds Forrest Gump is who is smarter, Bubba or Forrest? On one hand, Bubba knows everything there is to know about the shrimping business, but Forrest may not be a smart man, but he does know what love is. I think I’ll tackle this debate in a future posting.
- During the Vietnam sequences, two songs play that have great beginnings before anything is sung: “For What It’s Worth” by Buffalo Springfield and “Turn! Turn! Turn!” by The Byrds.

- Okay last time I will make this joke … Mrs. Gump flies to Vietnam and has sex with Ho Chi Minh. As he leaves the tent, he says to Forrest, “your momma sure does care about ending this war, son.” Okay, I’m done with that joke now.

- Forrest gets shot in the ass, Forrest saves Lt. Dan, Bubba dies, Jenny doesn’t receive any of Forrest’s letters (at this point I think we can actually hear Forrest’s heart breaking on film … or at least mine breaking for him), Forrest gets awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor, Forrest learns he’s a savant when it comes to ping-pong and is sent back home to States.

Whew. A lot just happened. Most movies slow down and lose pacing in the middle of the second act, not this film.

- Forrest delivers a powerful, yet silent address at an anti-war rally in front of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington D.C. According to IMDB.com, this is what Forrest says after the speakers are unplugged and we can no longer hear him talking, “Sometimes when people go to Vietnam, they go home to their mommas without any legs. Sometimes they don't go home at all. That's a bad thing. That's all I have to say about that."

- Forrest finds his way to New York and into the company of a bitter and legless Lt. Dan. When Forrest tells Lt. Dan his plans of becoming a shrimp boat captain, he responds by saying the day that happens, is the day he’ll be an astronaut. In a related story, both Tom Hanks and Gary Sinise’s next film is Apollo 13.

- Lt. Dan thanks Forrest for saving his life in a nearly flawless scene. What detracts from the scene is the voiceover. Lt. Dan jumps off the boat and into the water to make his peace with God. Gary Sinise is in the acting-zone right now and it’s pretty obvious why he is swimming. We didn’t need Forrest to tell us – the scene would have played better with just the musical score in the background and the sight of Lt. Dan swimming.

- Momma Gump dies of cancer leaving Forrest even more alone. His best-friend Bubba has died, so has his mom, and Jenny is off in California getting beat-up by drug abusers and doing lines of cocaine. Something tells me that Forrest would trade his millions of dollars in wealth for just one of those people to be back in his life. I can’t help but wonder how many people would sacrifice their best-friend or their true love, to never have to worry about money again and be obscenely rich? In fact, at this point in the story, Jenny is one of those people.

- Jenny finds her way back to Forrest again. It’s amazing how in life, just as in film, how certain people are destined to be part of your life forever. Anyway, Jenny and Forrest continue to strengthen their relationship, which climaxes when Forrest proposes to Jenny on the Fourth of July. Jenny, not realizing what she has and undeserving of Forrest’s unconditional love, quickly rejects him.

That night, she has sex with Forrest, as I bite my tongue not to make any ill-timed 40-Year Old Virgin jokes. Jenny, learning from the success of this technique earlier in the film decides to run away from Forrest again. “Run Jenny, run!”
- At the end of The Godfather, Part II, Michael is all alone; and there is a scene with him sitting outside of his house with this just amazing look on his face as he reflects on his life and how he got to where he is. After Jenny leaves Forrest for the fifty-fourth time, Forrest sports the exact same look. The difference is that Michael got what he deserved, Forrest didn’t. (Side note: Forrest Gump and The Godfather, Part II are probably both Hanks and Pacino’s best performances)

- Forrest’s heartbreak leads to the most controversial part of the movie - the running sequence. Forrest Gump comes in at over 3+ hours and if there is a part of the film that drags, this is it. It’s necessary because it gives Forrest time to heal from Jenny’s wounds, and losing everyone in his life that meant anything to him (except for Lt. Dan), and it gives him something to do on a daily basis. At this point in his life, Forrest doesn’t have any friends, doesn’t need to work, and can only cut the grass so many times in a week – so it’s obvious he needs something to fill his time - and that is what his running does.

Interestingly, both Jenny and Forrest need to run during this time in the movie in order to heal and find there way back to each other, and eventually conclude their love story. Jenny metaphorically runs while Forrest literally runs.

While the running scenes are relevant, creating the “Shit Happens” bumper sticker and the “Have a Nice Day’ t-shirt are totally unnecessary. At this point in the story, we already appreciate how Forrest, an ordinary man with very few god-given gifts, takes those limitations and parlays them into personal, and often time historical, victories. What the film should be focusing on instead is the completion of Forrest and Jenny’s love story and their character arcs. Forrest’s place in history is secure, lets not waste time on gimmicky ideas that are unnecessary in furthering along the story.

- So finally, Forrest and Jenny are reunited one last time and we learn that Forrest is the father of Jenny’s young son. In what is the most moving and emotional scene of the entire movie, Forrest terrifyingly and reluctantly asks Jenny if Forrest, Jr. is smart or dumb. I swear, I almost cry every time I watch this scene. Not wanting his son to experience the same struggle, pain and ridicule that he did, is just perfectly acted by Hanks and is a poignant glimpse into the character’s heart. Shortly after, destiny is fulfilled and Jenny’s life is redeemed, as Forrest and Jenny finally get married. Also during this time, Lt. Dan’s journey to happiness is complete, as we learn he now has a new fiancée and new prosthetic legs, both allow him to walk upright again (the warm look Lt. Dan and Forrest share prior to the wedding parallels in greatness only to the look Ray Kinsella and his father share at the end of Field of Dreams).
Of course the final tragedy of Forrest and Jenny is that their time spent as a married couple is too short – for Jenny is dying of … well, we don’t know, but it’s strongly suggested she is dying of AIDS. This time though, Forrest is not left alone, as he now has the greatest and most literal symbol of Jenny and his love, as he is left with Forrest Jr. to raise.

So what’s my conclusion about Forrest Gump?

I can’t help but think that reason Forrest Gump hasn’t held up over time is because we were oversaturated by Forrest Gump-mania – the Bubba-Gump hats and t-shirts that lined every Blockbuster for about two years, the Bubba-Gump chain restaurants, the simple, yet easily repeatable dialog that became an essential part of our everyday vocabulary for about a year – the movie was so popular and was freakin’ everywhere you looked, that you never got time to sit back and appreciate the film for what it is.

Robin Wright’s performance as Jenny has to be one of the most underrated lead performances in movie history – she wasn’t even nominated for an Academy Award – and Jodie Foster in Nell and Susan Sarandon in The Client were – yikes (does anyone even remember those films?). Jenny’s life is the opposite of Forrest – unloved by her parents, attractive, smart, missed countless opportunities to do the right thing, typical flower-power girl of the 60’s, and so much wasted potential. And Robin Wright nails Jenny’s tragic descent and eventual salvation flawlessly.

AFI released their top 100 love stories last year and Forrest Gump didn’t even make the list – don’t worry though, Roxanne and The American President did. In perusing that list, I noticed that too many “great” love stories are flash-in-the-pan romances. Like in Titanic, Jack and Rose know each other for less than a week. In Pretty Woman, Edward and Vivian only know each other for about six days. In Sleepless In Seattle, Sam and Annie know each other for about 15 minutes. Truly great love stories in movies are those that are more substantial, like in When Harry Met Sally; Harry and Sally are friends for 10 years prior to falling in love. Or in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Holly and Paul are friends for some time before they begin their romance. And in Forrest Gump, Jenny and Forrest wait more than 25 years before they get married. I think these movies are stronger, more meaningful love stories because they closely resemble the great loves in our own lives. I can’t think of a single person who fell in love over the course of a week, but I know dozens of people who married their best friend.

I still love Forrest Gump as much today as I did when I saw some 10+ years ago – but I love it for different reasons now. Before I loved it because it was an inspirational tale about a below average, sometimes funny, sometimes wise, guy who lives an extraordinary life and plays an active part in some of the most interesting events in our history, with some of the most interesting historical figures; all the time maintaining his innocence and optimism. While I still feel that way, what I love now are the relationships. The way Forrest and Lt. Dan look at each other at Forrest’s wedding, marking the end of their long journey. The way Mrs. Gump used her special perspective to try to make Forrest’s life more normal, “if God had intended all of us to be the same, he would have given us all braces on our legs.” The way Bubba and Forrest lean on each other in Vietnam so neither of them have to sleep with their heads in the mud. And of course, Forrest and Jenny. Maybe I am more sensitive to their story because of issues that are going on in my life or maybe I am just getting old, but there is something wonderful about a love that despite all their differences and obstacles, and despite Jenny’s tendency to drift in and out of Forrest’s life, not realizing what they shared - that despite all of that, they were still destined to be together. I think that's pretty cool.

And ... That’s all I have to say about that.

(PS – I promise my next post will be much shorter!)

Partying Like It’s Your Birthday

On Saturday night a large group of us went out to celebrate our friend’s/Ryan’s girlfriend, Bryn’s birthday. Armed with a little black notebook and a pen the size of a miniature golf pencil, I kept a running journal of the night’s events (while looking like a total weirdo the entire time – who takes notes in a club?). And this is what transpired …

- We are coming to you live from Denver’s new bar/club, The Donkey Den. Just to give you a little history, The Donkey Den has been the source of some controversy here in Denver recently. Evidently, in Tijuana, a "donkey den" refers to a brothel where men pay to see women have sex with animals and often participate in the sexual slavery of girls (some as young as 8). Yikes. I guess they won’t be having any 18-and under nights or bring-your-pet-to-the-bar nights anytime soon. Their menu also used to include such items as “Ho-Made Fries" and "Donkey Punch" burgers. Apparently, some people took exception to those names - especially the “Donkey Punch,” which is when during doggystyle sexual activity, a man punches his female partner as hard as he can in the back of the skull right before he reaches climax. This causes her to convulse and tighten every cavity. Such a punch is also an illegal boxing move that can cause serious and permanent injury to the brain stem.

Realizing their mistakes and feeling like total jackasses, The Donkey Den removed those items from their menu and now they regularly meet with leaders of anti-violence and women's advocacy groups here in Denver to exchange ideas about how the club can play a positive role in the community. Good recovery, guys.

- As Ryan, Bryn, Amy and I walk in to The Donkey Den, Ryan and I quickly spot a bachelorette party on the patio. Wow, that was easy – streak continues.

- Ryan orders the first drinks of the night (not counting the Smirnoff Ice I had at the house while watching the last few minutes of TiVo’d show called, “Superhuman Powers.” Nothing gets a birthday celebration off to a better start than a Smirnoff Ice and a show from the Discovery Channel), and quickly observes that instead of giving him a vodka-tonic, he receives a vodka-vodka, with a hint of tonic. Ryan proudly remarks that the bartender is pouring drinks “like a champion” and that he is going to need superhuman powers to not to be drunk by 10:45.

- Ryan gives the bartender his credit card to start a tab, and she inexplicably starts dry-humping and dancing with Ryan’s credit card. That was really weird. I guess she was overly excited to see what Ryan’s credit max is? I later suggest to Ryan that he wash-off his credit card and probably not put it too close to his nose.

- Our friend Jasmine (and fellow blogger) arrives wearing 1/3 of shirt. Quickly, the betting lines go out on the “over/under” on what time it will be the first time someone sees Jasmine’s nipple – I confidently take the “under” and put $20 on 11:07.

- Jasmine has now been at The Donkey Den about 12 minutes and has had to answer 71 questions about whether that’s her bra sticking out of the front of her shirt and whether she wore that shirt on purpose. Poor Jasmine.

- More of Bryn’s friends arrive including a group that contains at least 3 deviations of the name Lucas. Yeah, that won’t be confusing later on when everyone’s drunk. On the plus side, calling someone Lucas gives you a 50/50 chance of being right - kinda like calling a gangster Vinny or Rocco.

- Bryn-the-birthday-girl just had her first shot of the night. Happy 22nd birthday, Bryn. A buzzed Ryan prophetically tells me that he had a shot, too and that in hindsight it probably wasn’t a good idea.

- One the Lucas-es, donning a pink shirt, heads immediately over to Jasmine’s breasts for a conversation. I doubt this Lucas could pick Jasmine’s face out of a lineup but would have no problem telling me how many freckles she has on her chest.
- Pink-shirt-Lucas just put his arm around Jasmine for the 32nd time in 8 minutes - must be some sort of record.

- On the way to the bathroom, I spot one of those clear/plastic-strap bras that are suppose to be invisible. I have to admit, I am not a fan. One, they are never invisible and two, they look terrible. I’m sorry, but I think they look kinda of trashy. There is just something unattractive about clear, plastic straps taking the place of a normal bra strap. Not to mention, the clear plastic reflects a lot of light, so you’re not really “hiding” your strap anyway. Are there people out there who actually complain about seeing bra straps? Seems like the bra-strap problem is a small issue that really didn’t need to be fixed in the first place… sort-of like Iraq.

- Bryn just got happily dragged to the bar for another shot and has finally reached double digits in terms of the number of shots she has taken tonight - this time I think it was tequila. It’s still pretty early and Bryn weighs about 101 pounds – this might end badly for her. I think she’s the only one who is drunk so far.
- Ryan just loudly declared, “I’m plowed!” Correction, Ryan’s drunk too.

- Just glanced at my cell phone and it’s only 10:43. Wow. Bryn has had as many shots as there are Lucas’ in the club, and Ryan is only on his sixth vodka-vodka. Both look excessively giddy – like Ron Burgundy after Baxter saves him from the bears at the end of Anchorman.

- Out of nowhere, one of Bryn’s friends suddenly appears dressed like Alabama from True Romance. Wait, on second thought, no she isn't. I have no idea why I just wrote that down. Am I drunk? Anyway, I guess I will take this time to say that I don’t get the appeal of kung-fu. The Kill Bill movies were okay, but for the most part I find kung-fu painfully boring – like watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy. But some people freakin’ love kung-fu, why? What is so damn entertaining about kung-fu? How can anyone sit through a kung-fu marathon or schedule time in their daily routine to watch that stuff? I need to have someone explain this to me because I’m perplexed and baffled. I would even go so far as to say I hate kung-fu. There it is, I said it.

- I just took some time to wander around The Donkey Den by myself and people-watch. Always a good time. Which brings me to my next observation - nothing spells classy like a ragged white, wife-beater and black bra. I bet I can guess what that girl’s teeth look like.

- When you decide to wear a sports jersey to a club, what criteria do you use to pick-out the jersey?

“Let’s see – should I go with my Kobe Bryant jersey? Nah. I don’t want girls thinking about date-rape. What about my vintage Wilt Chamberlin jersey? Didn’t he sleep with like 10,000 women? Probably should pass. OJ? No. Barry Bonds? He did take steroids and I am pretty sure I read somewhere that those make your balls shrink, so NO! Magic Johnson? No, he has AIDS from sleeping around with groupies. Michael Jordan? Perfect. Who doesn’t like Michael Jordan? Classy. A winner. Good looking. I can attract girls from Illinois. Perfect.

Now, should I go with the home or away jersey? I am always being told how the home-whites always bring out my eyes …”

- Just spotted two guys fully enjoying the clever t-shirt trend.

(On a related note, where’s Jasmine when I need her? Jasmine has “met” at least two boys while we have been out – on previous nights - who were wearing clever t-shirts. She seems to have a serious weak spot for boys in t-shirts that read, “I Like Girls That Like Girls.” Guys who wear shirts like that are definitely the type of men you would want to have a relationship with and take home to meet your family. Jasmine is single, by the way.)

Oh! Just found Jasmine - Pink-Shirt-Lucas is still clutching and grabbing her – like a defensive back trying to commit pass-interference. I guess she’ll have to wait for another night to meet a man in a “One Night Stands Welcome” t-shirt. Oh-well.

Speaking of clever t-shirts, I want to create a line of successful clever t-shirts. I always see shirts that say something like, “Born Again Loser.” Instead, I want to produce a line of shirts that say, “I Have a Fully-Vested 401(k).” Or, “I Get Three Weeks Paid Vacation.” Or “I Have Business Cards and Medical and Dental Insurance.” You would think girls would rather go for guys in a shirt reading, “I am a Salaried Employee” instead of a man in a shirt that states, “I Lie to Girls.”

I need to make this idea happen so I can wear a shirt that says, “I am a Millionaire.”

- Top sign a guy is meeting a girl for the first time: he shakes her hand (otherwise he would hug her), stares at her breasts, smiles, glances at her chest again and then begins to participate in the conversation.

- A random guy just asked Jasmine and her boobs what he can get for $20, while Pink-Shirt-Lucas glares at the random guy the way McDonald’s employees glare at you when you ask for additional barbeque sauce for your nuggets.

- Our Hispanic-friend Joe joins the group and talks uninterrupted for two minutes – which allows me to say, “I don’t understand what you’re saying … I don’t speak Spanish.” Hilarity ensues (Joe was speaking plain English). I have been waiting to use that classic quote from Anchorman in a real conversation for the longest time. If I make that joke to the wrong person, I end up getting beat like a Democrat trying to win Kansas’ electoral votes, so luckily, Joe was a good sport.

- Ryan and I just got flipped-off by our friend Julie. Have no idea why. But I would like to say that just like wearing a black bra underneath a white shirt, or wearing a bra with plastic straps; girls flipping someone off is really unattractive, un-lady-like and trashy. Don’t mean to pick on you girls, but you ladies as a gender should really try to stop using your middle finger. Just a thought.

- I just noticed some of the men in our group are experiencing male-patterned baldness. I have to admit, I am terrified of going bald. With my big head, can you imagine what I would be like with no hair? Ugh. If I go bald, the only bar I am going to be getting action in will be the bar from Star Wars.

- A random drunk guy just did a goal line-like jump into Ryan, me and 4 of the Lucas-es. Like a true drunkard, he spilt some of our drinks, didn’t apologize and moved on. Considering how much room this guy had to walk-by us, I suspiciously check my pants to make sure I didn’t just get pick-pocketed.

- Ryan, showing the heart of a warrior, wisely switches from vodka-vodkas to water. On the fly, he creates the one water:one vodka/vodka ratio to be instituted for the remainder of the evening. A true stroke of genius. Only a wise and tenured drinking man has that type of drinking foresight. Just beautiful.

On a related note, Bryn just had her 20th-something shot and is beginning to make the same face athletes make after suffering a massive concussion.
- A drunk Ryan stumbles up to me and remarks, “Jasmine is hooking-up with a Carmelo Anthony look-alike – that sounds about right.”

- One of the Lucas-es and his fiancée, Rose, start grinding in front of me and Ryan. As she is dancing, Rose mentions to all of us that she is sore, which somehow spirals into an unsettling conversation about using Ben-Gay as a lubricant. Yikes. It was at this point that Lucas joined-in on the dialog, as a petrified Rose ran for cover. Lucas chimes-in by openly wondering what Ben-Gay on the balls might feel like. Freakin’ hilarious. Astonished, Ryan and I are rendered speechless and promise never to talk about this topic again.

- More of Bryn’s friends arrive and we quickly learn that they went/go to Kansas State University. I shift into the obligatory anti-Kansas State jokes like, “you went to KState? What did you do, lose a bet?” “I could have gone to KState but my SAT scores were too high.” “You must look really good in purple.” And of course, “you can’t spell suck without KSU.” The KState’ers have no idea what to say in response to my playful barbs. I was waiting for them to say to me, “I don’t understand what you’re saying, I don’t speak English.” Instead, they give me the same blank look the people in Men in Black have on their faces after they had their minds erased by the deneuralizer.

Besides that, they seem like really nice people.

- Ryan stumbles up to me again and says, “Jasmine’s now hooking-up with a Kobe Bryant look-alike – that sounds about right.”

- The bathrooms at The Donkey Den are a bit confusing – “heads” and “tails.” It may make common anatomical sense to a sober person that the men are “heads” and the ladies are “tails,” but when you’re drunk, it’s a coin-toss.

- Does anyone know why a Sex on the Beach shot is called Sex on the Beach? It’s probably just a funny name or someone commemorating a sexual experience they had on the beach. But if it’s the latter, I am totally jealous. What a legacy to leave behind! I want to name a shot after one of my memorable experiences … like an Impala Rain Storm, or an Orlando Hot Tub, or a Hays Grass-stain.

- Bryn’s friend and boss, Hillary, arrives on the scene showing off her fully-functional fun-extinguisher. Luckily, we are assured that she is much more fun when she’s drunk. Great! We quickly point Hillary in the direction of our KState Wildcat friends.

- In the midst of a conversation, Ryan inadvertently drunk-spits in Rose’s Lucas’ face. Lucas, being a good sport because that tends to happen when alcohol is involved, immediately starts making fun of Ryan, only to accidentally smack Julie’s drink out of her hand and spill it all over the floor. Good times. The look on Julie’s face after this happened is the same look you get when you find out you just drank milk that expired a week ago.

- Hillary just disappeared with a guy wearing a suit, which causes Ryan to use the second great Anchorman quote of the night, “it’s so damn hot! Wearing a suit was a bad choice.”

- The DJ just put on the ever-popular dance-club song, “Billy Jean” by Michael Jackson. Do you people know what this song is about? If so, I really doubt you would be rushing to the dance floor to get-jiggy-wit-it. “Billy Jean” is about a guy who meets a girl on the dance floor, they have sex, she has a son, he denies it’s his kid, she takes him to court and then he sees a picture of the boy and realizes the kid has his eyes. Call me crazy, but is that really the type of song you want to celebrate when you are meeting girls at a club, dancing with them and possibly scoring with them later on? Is this really the area you want to temp fate and irony?

- Ryan stumbles up to me again and says, “Jasmine’s now hooking-up with a Shaquille O’Neal look-alike – that sounds about right.”

- As the night starts to wind-down, Bryn is getting attention from about six friends trying to prevent her from puking and/or passing out. Always a sign of a successful birthday celebration. The way they are working on Bryn looks as if they are trying to diffuse a bomb. I think I just overheard Ryan telling Rose to be careful not to cross the green wire with the yellow wire.

- Pink-Shirt-Lucas is contemplating a way of kidnapping Jasmine’s breast and Jasmine without any legal implications. I think he just challenged the Shaquille O’Neal look-alike to game of HORSE for the rights to take home Jasmine’s chest.

- End of the night planning suddenly starts to occur everywhere: who is driving who home? Who needs prophylactics? Who needs saving or beer goggles? Who needs help walking out to the car? Who can find the missing the parts to Jasmine’s shirt? Why does Julie keep asking Rose’s Lucas about Ben-Gay?

- The night was polished off with some great late-night pizza. With all due respect to Taco Bell, McDonalds and Philly cheese steaks, pizza is the king of all drunk food. If I was going to get executed for a crime after a night of drinking, my last meal would definitely be two slices of pepperoni from Pyramid Pizza.

Sorry if this got a little lengthy, but this is the first time I tried the whole journal-thing, so if people like it, I’ll do it again for other events. And I’ll try to keep it a little bit shorter next time.

I Love Poetry

I received some more Christian SPAM - a wonderful Christian poem. And I thought every one might want to read it.

I think I’ll respond as the poem goes along ... (my comments will be in black, original comments in blue).

Now I sit me down in school
Where praying is against the rule

(For the millionth time, prayer in school is not against the rules. A Christian can pray 10,000 times per day without consequence. What is against the rules, is making your schoolmate-friend Muhammad join you in praying to Jesus Christ before or during third period French class. Is this such a hard concept to grasp? Seriously. Christians, pray as much as you want in class, do you really need an announced prayer-time, like in church, in order to pray at school? No one is telling you to stop praying - what we are saying is quit requiring all the Muslims, Buddhists, Jews, Atheists, Taoist, and everyone else to join in you in praying to Jesus. A little religious tolerance and sensitivity to other’s beliefs would be a nice change of pace.)

For this great nation under God
Finds mention of Him very odd.
If Scripture now the class recites,
It violates the Bill of Rights.

(Not true. Biblical scripture is welcome in a religious studies class and in the hallways of your public school. Where it is inappropriate is during biology, English and algebra. If someone was assigning required reading from the Bible during English Lit class, then that would be a violation of the 1st Amendment. See the difference? In fact, as a student, you are more than welcome to read your Bible at school. It is your right to read your Bible at school, provided it doesn’t interfere with your education or the education of fellow students.)

And anytime my head I bow
Becomes a Federal matter now.

(For the millionth and one time, bow your head and pray as much as you like – just stop requiring everyone else to join you. What’s the old adage, “misery likes company?” I’m sorry that was harsh – just a joke.)

Our hair can be purple, orange or green,
That's no offense; it's a freedom scene.
The law is specific, the law is precise.
Prayers spoken aloud are a serious vice.

(A little closer to the truth, but still not 100% accurate. You and your classmates can pray at school, before a test or in the halls (remember how every school has a Bible club or a prayer vigil by the flagpole, for instance?), but your prayers, aloud or silent, cannot interfere or disrupt the educational experience of other students, nor can you require the other students to participate or have the school organize such prayers.)

For praying in a public hall
Might offend someone with no faith at all.

(Obviously practicing religious sensitivity is a serious issue that must be put to a stop. We definitely don’t want that - especially since our Founding Fathers were escaping religious persecution. What we need to do is require people of non-Christian faith and people of no faith to pray to Jesus.

And again, not to beat a dead horse (what a weird cliché that is), but you can pray in a public hall – just don’t have the state sponsor your prayer. I am pretty sure it doesn’t say in the Bible that public prayer to Jesus needs to be sponsored by the government. In fact, the Bible does say that Christians should be obedient to laws of where they live ... Hmmm ... I guess that Bible teaching doesn't apply to the laws of the US, otherwise Christians would stop pushing this agenda.)

In silence alone we must meditate,
God's name is prohibited by the state.
We're allowed to cuss and dress like freaks,
And pierce our noses, tongues and cheeks.

(Actually, profanity and/or abusive language is not allowed in most publicly-funded buildings, including courthouses and schools. Considering piercings regularly have religious and cultural significance, it’s interesting that the Christian author of this poem would consider that freaky. Plus, dressing like a “freak”, coloring your hair purple, or piercing a body part does not equal immorality, as the author subtly suggests.)

They've outlawed guns, but FIRST the Bible.
To quote the Good Book makes me liable.

(Last time I checked, guns weren’t outlawed in the US. Remember the Second Amendment? There are certain assault weapons and bullets that are illegal, but nothing that prohibits the right to bear arms that is given in the Bill of Rights. Quoting the “Good Book” in school doesn’t make you liable of a civil rights violation, either. Quote scripture as much as you want in your classroom discussions (provided it’s relevant to the discussion) and graduation speeches, just don’t make others do it or have the school sponsor it. Quick aside, if everyone was required to worship Jesus, do Christians really want non-believers faking their faith anyway?)

We can elect a pregnant Senior Queen,
And the 'unwed daddy,' our Senior King.
It's "inappropriate" to teach right from wrong,
We're taught that such "judgments" do not belong.

(Who ever said teaching right from wrong was inappropriate? Regardless, the Bible isn’t the only source of moral code and teachings. In fact, most of the values stated in the Bible are not unique to the Bible and did not originate in the Bible, either. Biblical values are shared by almost every other religion in the world and were practiced and documented long before the Old Testament. Confucius taught the Golden Rule as a basis for our conscience hundreds of years before it was found in The Bible. Forcing every American to worship the Christian God is not a necessary component of teaching right and wrong. )

We can get our condoms and birth controls,
Study witchcraft, vampires and totem poles.
But the Ten Commandments are not allowed,
No word of God must reach this crowd.
It's scary here I must confess,
When chaos reigns the school's a mess.
So, Lord, this silent plea I make:
Should I be shot; My soul please take!
Amen

(Not killing, not stealing, and other values promoted in the Ten Commandments are found in almost every other religion and are practiced by Atheists, too. Many countries that have lower crime rates, lower teen pregnancy rates and don’t have school shootings, don’t practice the teachings of The Bible. Given the poem’s/Christian’s arguments, how is that possible? Our First Amendment exists to prevent our country from being oppressive to those with diverse viewpoints, including Christianity. Why are there Christians against this?)

If you aren't ashamed to do this, please pass this on.
Jesus said, " if you are ashamed of me," I will be ashamed of you before my Father.." Not ashamed. Passing this on

Have a great weekend!

Not Easy Being Cheesy

Sorry for the long delay in-between postings. I’ve been off doing research for an essay I am writing, that I will eventually post on here, and sadly it’s slowed down my ability to write as much as I would like. My apologies.

What the hell is a bygone? The phrase “let bygones be bygones” is a weird one because no one ever uses the word bygone unless you are saying to let the bygone be bygone. Have you ever head someone say, “I remember the bygone time when you and I were driving a Chevrolet Impala and had the pull the car over because it was raining so hard.” Of course not. Very strange phenomenon. There must be other words that only get matched up with a certain phrase. If anyone can think of some, please let me know.

When I was kid, I thought a wheelbarrow was a wheelbarrel. Also, I thought it was “all intensive purposes” for a long time, before learning it was actually, “all intents and purposes.”

Ever notice on The Real World how all the cast members refer to their time on the show as an “experience.”

- I hope to learn a lot from this ‘experience.’
- I hope to meet an actual gay person or a minority during this ‘experience.’
- I hope I don’t catch an infectious STD during this ‘experience.’

Ryan and I were watching MTV’s Laguna Beach on Monday night … Remember that drinking game where you would watch a movie like Fargo, and every time someone in the movie said something like “oh, you betcha” or “yeaaah” you would have to do a shot? Well, if Ryan and I had been playing that game on Monday every time they said “hook-up” on Laguna Beach, we would both be at Denver General Hospital getting our stomachs pumped and suffering from alcohol poisoning right now. Seriously, we need to find a new phrase for hooking-up besides hooking-up. The phrase “hooking-up” is to teenagers what “fughetaboutit” is to gangsters.

Q: What’s better, a Lincoln or a Cadillac?
A: Both are hooked-up.

Q: Who’s hotter, Jessica Simpson or Scarlett Johansson?
A: I’d hook-up with both of them.

Q: What’s the weather suppose to like tomorrow?
A: I’ll hook-up with weather.com and check the forecast.

On Saturday I went to McDonalds to grab some good anti-hangover medicine in the name of a Big Mac combo. As I drove around the building towards the drive-thru, I pulled-up behind a fully-loaded red mini-van. And I don’t mean fully-loaded as in it had power windows, a sunroof and cruise control. I mean it was fully loaded with about 7 people. Right then, I knew I was in for a really long wait.

Is there a worse drive-thru feeling than being right behind a car that you know has a ridiculously large order that is going to take a long time to speak into the little drive-thru speaker, for the order-taker to actually get the order right, for the restaurant to make the food, give it to the waiting vehicle (always a few bags worth of food and a tray-full of drinks) and then have the car-load make sure they got all the right food and then ask for condiments, extra napkins and straws?

(Before anyone says anything, there was a bus-load of people inside the McDonalds, so going in to get my food and getting it to-go was not an option)

For those of you who have read The DiVinci Code, is anyone else a little uneasy about Tom Hanks being cast as Robert Langdon in Ron Howard’s upcoming movie? I love Tom Hanks as much as anyone – I still get mad that he didn’t win Best Actor for Saving Private Ryan and that blabbering idiot Roberto Benigni won for Life is Beautiful (who could forget that monumental performance? Somehow Roberto also beat Edward Norton in American History X?) – but I just didn’t see Tom Hanks in my mind when I visualized Robert Langdon. I hope Hanks proves me wrong because I am really looking forward to the film adaptation, and with his resume he definitely deserves the benefit of the doubt, but I still can't shake the skeptical feeling about his casting. It doesn’t help that Tom’s last two movies were The Terminal and Ladykillers, either.

(I just learned that Russell Crowe was considered for the role of Robert Langdon … my gut tells me that may have been a better choice – time will tell. Oh, and Paul Bettany of Beautiful Mind and Wimbledon fame was cast as the albino redhead, Silas! I definitely didn’t picture him in that role, but now I get to make, “tell him you’re the Holy Grail! Tell em’ you’re a genius, Robert,” jokes throughout the whole movie.)

One more thing about The DiVinci Code, I bet $100 right now that the movie will be 3+ hours in length.

Isn’t brushing your teeth after you have eaten Oreo cookies really, really disgusting? Seriously, does your toothbrush ever look grosser than after you have downed a half dozen Double-Stuff Oreo’s? I would be happy with my life’s legacy if I could somehow rid the world of nasty post-Oreo-eating toothbrushes and figure out a way for Cheetos to not leave that neon-orange residue on your fingers after eating a bag. I would wager that if the Cheeto-People included a moist towelette (like they do at KFC) that sales would increase 7-12%.

The Cheetoo-People don’t realize they are inadvertently limiting the times in my life when I can eat Cheetos. For instance, because of the neon-orange residue, I cannot eat Cheetos and operate a car. Why? Because you can’t get all that stuff off your fingers unless you wash your hands (and licking that stuff off your fingers is just wrong), and I am certainly not getting that gunk on the radio buttons, the climate control buttons or on the inner-thigh of the girl sitting next to me. So that eliminates Cheetos from road trips. You can’t eat Cheetos and read a book – you don’t want to leave orange stains on the pages. You can’t eat them at social events – no one wants to shake hands with Chester-the-Cheetah. You can’t commit a crime and eat Cheetos – can you imagine the CSI or Forensic File episode with a criminologist pulling Cheeto fingerprints from the scene of a crime? You can’t even work and eat Cheetos – who wants that orange crap all over their mouse and keyboard?

All of these problems could be easily eliminated with the inclusion of a moist towelette in every bag. The additional cost of including a moist towelette would be negated by the increased sales to people who can now eat Cheetos while having thumb-wars, giving full-body massages, playing cards, working in laboratories and of course on the Space Shuttle.

I really need to put in charge of Frito-Lay.

No Need to Panic

“I don’t like talking about things I did in the past or the things I’ve done.”

Tonya from ‘Kill Reality’ and ‘Real World: Chicago’ redundantly talking and speaking about her personal life.

Monday’s short posting certainly generated a lot of emails, phone calls and comments. I didn’t realize that talking about childbirth and my personal life would cause such a stir. I feel like I should have released my blog through Al-Jazeera or something. Anyway, I want to clarify two things:

First – I understand how amazing childbirth is, but that still doesn’t qualify it as a miracle. The definition of a miracle is, “an event that appears inexplicable by the laws of nature and so is held to be supernatural in origin.” How does childbirth qualify when it’s easily explainable by the laws of nature and certainly isn’t supernatural? If I had a dollar for every time I heard the, “when you have kids you’ll understand,” comment between now and Monday, I wouldn’t have to play PowerBall. Listen, I get the point that childbirth is a life-altering event, just not a miraculous one.

Here are some examples of real miracles:

- God turning water into wine.
- 1980 US Olympic Hockey Team.
- George Bush’s re-election.
- Me getting a date during my high school days.
- Las Vegas.
- “Walking in Memphis” singer Marc Cohn getting shot in the head after a concert in Denver this week, having a bullet lodged into his head and not dying. Actually the miraculous part is not the shooting, but rather that Marc Cohn was performing in a concert that people paid to attend.

On a related note, just as every birth isn't a miracle, every death is not a tragedy. Everyday occurrences in the world, like life and death, are not always miracles and tragedies. People die and people are born – that’s life. Just as childbirth is a wonderful experience, every death is worth mourning – both are to be cherished. Overusing powerful phrases, like miracle and tragedy, desensitizes the audience and detracts from events that are worthy of being called such.

Second – The person that inspired the Meet Joe Black quote DID NOT die. She is still alive and living well in southwest Denver. Sorry for causing any unnecessary concern or alarm. Also, I am not depressed or suicidal. I am not about ready to pull a “Brooks” from Shawshank Redemption or a “Frankie Pentangeli” from Godfather, Part II. I’m fine. Really.

I guess I didn’t realize how weird or rare it was for me to show some emotion or do something sweet. As I try to grow as a person, I am attempting to do more things that I am not exactly comfortable with. For a whole plethora of reasons, I don’t like to admit my feelings about certain people in my life. I know, I know, it’s an elementary concept for most people, but I suck at it. Really bad. But I’m trying. And Monday’s posting was my attempt to say thank you to a person who has been very influential in my life, and a person who made my life better. And I just wanted to share that with everyone – it was long overdue.

Dramatic Topic Change …


- In Cincinnati, there is a high school basketball player being recruited by all the major colleges named OJ Mayo. That’s right, OJ Mayo. Isn’t that the best name? If your name is OJ don’t you have to go play for the Syracuse Orangemen? What do want for lunch? OJ Mayo. What’s a good source of Vitamin C and a condiment? OJ Mayo.

- If you are cycling fan, can your favorite cyclist be anyone other than Lance Armstrong? Seriously, does anyone else have a bigger monopoly on a fan base than him? Granted, the fan base is only 62 people plus Sheryl Crow, but it’s still pretty impressive.

(By the way, that Dell computer commercial with Sheryl Crow singing a song called, “Good is Good,” has some really cheesy lyrics - “Good is good and bad is bad.” Yikes Sheryl. Guess you’re not going to be giving John and Paul a run for their lyrical-money anytime soon. What happened to songs like “My Favorite Mistake” and “Leaving Las Vegas?”)

- Speaking of music, here are five songs that have incredible beginnings before anything is sung (in no particular order):

1) Bittersweet Symphony (by the Verve) - I get goosebumps and a smirk every time I hear those crazy violins. Very underrated song. Would it be wrong to have this played at my wedding due to how cool the violins sound and the double meaning of the song’s title?

2) Paint it Black (by The Rolling Stones) – The first 15 seconds just inspires you to do something evil … maybe I should stop listening to this song.

3) Money for Nothing (by the Dire Straits) – One of the best riffs ever written. If I could play the guitar, I would sit in my room and play it over and over again until I started to get money for nothing and chicks for free.

4) Only the Good Die Young (by Billy Joel) – Since I officially changed his nickname from the Piano Man to the Piano God, it is now literally a sin to say anything disparaging about Billy – that is unless you are making fun of his knack for driving his luxury cars into trees on Long Island. Anyway, Billy has a real gift for writing memorable and instantly recognizable starts to songs – see: Piano Man, Scenes in an Italian Restaurant, Uptown Girl (which shouldn't count because of the “Ohhhhh, Ohhhhh, Ohhhhh” at the beginning but since I make the rules and Billy Joel is the Piano God, I’ll let it slide…), and River of Dreams, for more examples of this phenomenon.

5) Machinehead (by Bush) – If I were a baseball player, this would be my intro music as I walk up to home plate, adjusting my cup seven to eight times, while Jose Canseco follows behinds me, injecting anabolic steroids in my buttocks, before settling into the batter’s box.

I am sure I missed some classic songs with great non-singing beginnings, so if you come up with any, please let me know.