By John Y. Brown III, on Tue Oct 30, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
“When I was a child….I spake as a child….but when I became an adult, I still wanted to sound younger than I really am.”
Really.
There probably should be a rule that people over, say, age 34 shouldn’t be allowed to use hip lingo. Because it never sounds as good as hoped when a midster (or beyond) tries using new jargon. And often goes far worse than was foreseen as possible.
For example, the other night while in California, a hypothetical person (we’ll say “a friend”) was overheard trying to use the terminology “Hooked up” while talking to several younger colleagues.
“So, a couple years later they hooked up again in New York. Not, like, the modern “hooking up” but, you know, the more….the older…I mean more traditional meaning of hooking up. I mean. They didn’t …I’m not saying they, like, you….ha…um….you know. I don’t mean intimately. It’s possible, isn’t it, to hook up and not be about sex, right?”
Colleague: “It can.”
Hypothetical person (friend): “OK. That’s the kind of hooking up I was trying to infer..I mean imply. So, anyway….the more traditional meaning of hooking up. I tell you what….Let me start over. Do you know what “meet up” means?”
Colleague: “Yes.”
Hypothetical person (friend): “OK, They met up in New York….Just forget my whole experiment with trying to fit “hooked up” into my story. It was a bad idea.”
Our Gen Y closing argument debate cannot be complete without hearing from the generation’s unofficial spokeswoman, actor/writer/director Lena Dunham. Here’s her controversial Obama endorsement, “First Time.”
By Nancy Slotnick, on Tue Oct 30, 2012 at 8:30 AM ET
So ever since Romney used that phrase, I have gotten boatloads full of nostalgic comments about Drip, the dating-café that I started in the late ‘90s. That’s because we actually did have binders full of women. Women seeking Men. Women seeking women. And we set them up on dates. With Matchmaker Café, we now do the same thing—i.e. set up men and women on real dates at a real café, and we introduce them when they get there. Even though we now have all the technology we can imagine for meeting online, we still need that human interaction. We still need personalized service and hand holding, even though we have Facebook. Even though we have these things called aircraft carriers.
What made that comment about binders full of women so funny? I think it was the irony. If women were really equal in the world of politics, then Romney wouldn’t need to round up women in binders. He wouldn’t have to go any farther then his own backyard. They would already be on his short list. So the binders represent a problem endemic to the system. As did the binders at Drip. They represented the same kind of problem.
When the world was simpler and people usually grew old in the same town where they had grown up, they would meet their mates through family and friends. There were local community hang-outs and places like Cheers where everybody knows your name. (Drip got compared to Cheers a lot.) Today there’s a level of anonymity and isolation in big cities that engenders a problem when it comes to dating. You need those binders full of women. And you don’t have a staff like Romney did to round them up. Luckily you’re only looking for one.
So why is it, in this age of Facebook, that no one uses Facebook for dating? Facebook is our backyard, and it is the technological equivalent of binders full of women, yet there is embarrassment around your Facebook friends knowing that you are single. When I coach women about dating, I talk about turning your Cablight on, which means showing that you’re available. When you turn it on then you get more and better dates. But when Matchmaker Café wants to show your friends that you are using the App, a lot of you have told me that you want to turn off that feature.
What damage will be done if you’re friends know that you are single or that you are using Matchmaker Café? Why is there a stigma? Who has time for this ambivalence and mixed messages? (Besides Romney’s staff.) You have to show that you’re available by being open to rejection, and even embracing rejection. You have to post publicly for what you are looking for, even if it’s embarrassing. I’m going to do that right now. I’m looking for a café owner or small hospitality group in NYC who would like to partner with me to do a re-make of Drip. We will have binders full of women. But this time the binders will be digitized on iPads and the profiles will utilize Facebook to tap into the existing social graph. Why? Because Facebook is online dating’s equivalent of nuclear submarines. And because it will be so much fun.
Insurance Executive: We don’t like Obamacare. Before Obama, our control over the health industry gave us great license to do everything we wanted to do in order to make big bucks. A person on one of our polices who gets really sick and expensive to cover? Throw them off. A child with a pre-existing condition who will cost more to insure over a lifetime? Deny her coverage. Can’t afford coverage? Sucks to be you.
We also became very adept at spending more on ourselves and our middle-men than spending on healthcare. Obama now isn’t letting us do that. We actually have to send rebates to the people we insure if we spend more on ourselves than on their health! And his purchasing cooperatives will make us compete with private insurers in cities and in some cases, entire states, in areas where we once had absolute monopolies, which will make us lower prices to be competitive. Yeah, we price out about 50 million people, but that’s free enterprise! Vote Romney!
Plutocrat: Obama will appoint Supreme Court Justices that will most certainly overturn Citizens United. My ability to anonymously fund Super PAC’s with unlimited dollars is my right because the Supreme Court says spending and speech are one in the same. Indeed, rich people are now much freer than everyday people. Let’s keep it that way. I spent $20 million helping Romney via my Super PAC; but that’s a drop in the bucket compared to tax cuts I will receive if Romney prevails. And some of my wealth will even trickle down to the lowly 47%, so everybody wins! Vote Romney!
Read the rest of… Greg Harris: Closing Argument for Mitt Romney — Views from his Base
By John Y. Brown III, on Mon Oct 29, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
Another day traveling by air.
Another day with mild to modest frustration with a major airline.
The major airlines seem more and more to remind me of a old school ma’arm, just waiting to slap you on the wrist for something inconsequential.
Mostly because they enjoy doing it…
And another day, thankfully, salvaged by Southwest.
The new cool substitute teacher that all the students love. And all the school marmy teachers hate. ; )
=========
In SouCal airports you see a lot of people who look like celebrities, carry themselves like a celebrity , and who want to be confused for a celebrity–but who are not a celebrity.
I think it’s fun.
The fun part for me is staring at them awestruck and looking like, carrying myself like and wanting to be confused for one of their fans.
=======
It smells good in California.
Even in the airport.
Clean.
It’s like people here shower two or three times a day.
Or use some sort of New Age magnetic device that repels dirt and dust and prevents perspiration.
It’s not quite human.
Like a fresh fruity well-toned Droid who just finished another colon cleanse.
I somehow worry that people I say hi too will suspect I don’t smell like one of them and know I’m not from here.
The low level humming from my iPhone from the Black Crowes isn’t helping any either
==========
It’s a dog’s life —not!
Remember the bleak saying about every down-and-outer getting their moment, “Every dog has it’s day”? I doubt that gets used in SoCal.
As I pulled out of the airport into San Diego last night the one thing I noticed over….and over…. and, yes, over again…was the privileged life that dogs lead out here.
At least one in three people I saw out last night in a suburb near downtown San Diego were walking their well-groomed, poised and, frankly, self-confident dog(s). Not in a cutesy or ostentatious way, like Paris Hilton carrying a tiny lap dog in her purse as a sort of panting accoutrement. Rather it was a normal person finally acting like the “dog’s best friend” we’ve always promised to be but—as any dog you know will tell you—have not lived up to.
And that attention and connection with their human shows, too—shows in the way SoCal dogs carry themselves and interact with other dogs—and even humans. They have a carriage about them which says, “Welcome to my town. Notice my owner. Pretty cool guy, huh?” It’s like the dogs are as self-conscious of who is walking them as their owners are about impressing others with their choice and type and breed of dog.
It’s darn near like the dogs out her are treated as a separate but co-equal species to humans. When you see a person and their dog on a chain walking, it’s not like back home. It’s like a couple out to get ice cream. Sure, the human appears to have control of the leash, but I suspect if you look closely it’s some sort of mutual canine-human leash that lets the two co-equal species stay together but without holding hands, or paws.
Oh, and dogs aren’t left outside here when their human pet goes into a store. No hitching post for these darlings. The dog walks in with every right to be there as anybody else. And seems a little impatient because there isn’t a larger canine section.
And as much as I hate to admit it, these dogs can be intimidating to people visiting from out of town. A strong-and-silent type pit bull was in Rite Aid last night with a cute young couple for a walk. The dog was well-manicured and obviously a female because it had a little bow in the corner of its well-coiffed mane. She began sniffing me—not like other dogs…but slyly as if by accident— and I instantly felt self-conscious when the dog looked up at me with these soft but probing and judgmental eyes. Although my new domesticated pit bull acquaintance didn’t say these exact words out loud, she was clearly thinking “You’re not from around here, are you? What….what kind of –whatever it is that you are….are you? And don’t even think about cutting in front of us in line. I’ll bite you and humiliate you in front of everyone. I’m still a dog, you know. Are we clear?”
I nodded affirmatively to the dog. I recovered my bearings long enough to realize something wasn’t quite right and mumbled, “Nice bow.”
The dog’s head whipped around as if to say, “What was that?!” “What?” I said. “I didn’t say anything.” The human owners looked oddly at me.
I offered, “Sorry. I wasn’t talking to you.”
It was the first time in a very long time that I felt like Junior from Hee-Haw stammering for something to say and knowing it would not be something appropriate or helpful. So I just kept quiet. And let this dog have its day. Like it does everyday in SoCal.
Read the rest of… John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Travels to SoCal
(While this closing argument might approach the civility line, it certainly is bi-partisan (or anti-partisan), and it was too funny to pass up. Besides, we love Jim Pence, who blogs at Hillbilly Report. – eds)
My fellow Americans. This has been a long and trying campaign and I’m sure you’ve noticed that I intend to screw you if I’m elected.
My opponent has said time and time again he intends to screw you to.
Screwing 314,653,649 people is a big job and we’re asking, along with your vote, you send us any left over Viagra you might have and in turn we’ll send you a coupon for a extra large tube of K-Y Jelly.
I am asking for your vote and look forward to screwing you. God bless you and God bless America.
By John Y. Brown III, on Fri Oct 26, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
Warning! I now know what Hell looks like—and I am never carrying a rolled mat. It could be a sign of my future.
I recently walked in on a hot yoga class breaking up. I didn’t know what it was at the time and my mind went into overdrive, trying to figure out what these people were doing. They were stripped down as far as they could be in public, sweat was excreting from ever pore in their body, they looked pained and exhausted and dispirited and some even were moaning with exhaustion. They appeared to be part of a group exercise that morning in Hades rolling the Sisyphus stone together up a hill.
I figured they were on some sort of smoke break from Hell. Except none were smoking….and actually looked pretty healthy.
But they all carried these eerie looking rolled devices (see below). It looked like a rolled mat but apparently is for self-flagellation and required packing for the Underworld. Do not be caught carrying one of these in public! And avoid others who do!
By John Y. Brown III, on Thu Oct 25, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
The Pinterest Principle.
Want to have many interests?
Wade into the pool. And keep going.
My daughter persuaded me to join Pinterest tonight so I did. It’s a website where you select things you like —a sort of personality and style social medium.
At first because it was awkward and new, I was extremely selective and hardly “liked” anything.
But once I waded in and got comfortable with Pinterest, I started liking everything.
In fact, there was little I didn’t like!
Lesson?
Hobbies and interests aren’t a function of our curiosity or tastes or temperament. They are essentially a matter of getting comfortable in our environment.
Once that is accomplished the world becomes a friendlier place with much about it to like.
By Jonathan Miller, on Wed Oct 24, 2012 at 4:00 PM ET
I feel compelled to interrupt this site’s bi-partisan coverage of the impending 2012 election to address a rumor that has much greater implications that any silly political race:
I am NOT having an affair with soccer star David Beckham.
Let me say it another way to make myself clear, so that there is no room for misinterpreting my statement, and to fully protect the privacy of my family and of David, his Spice Girl wife and his beautiful children:
I have NEVER had sexual relations with that man, Mr. Beckham.
And I beg you to please share this post with all of your friends (Facebook and real), Pinterest, Twitter, Instagram– hell even MySpace, Friendster, fax, and mimeograph (sniff first) the story to everyone you know.
Of course, please be sure to spell my name correctly — there are two ‘A’s and only one ‘O’ and one ‘H’ in Jonathan — and please, please, please be sure to remember the ‘the’ in my Web site TheRecoveringPolitician.com.
Oh, and here’s another poor soul who knows exactly how I am suffering from the false rumors, innuendo, and lack of full public inspection of the issues at hand:
By John Y. Brown III, on Wed Oct 24, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
Sometimes on a late work night when I stop off at Thornton’s to reward myself with something utterly non-nutritious, I sit in my car wolfing at down and watch the nice clerk inside and ask myself, “If someone robbed Thornton’s now while I was watching, would I try to help stop the robbery?
So far that question has remained a hypothetical one. And so far, I have answered “yes.”
I would come to the rescue and save the day in every hypothetical instance I have imagined—dashing out of my gray Honda Accord that went unnoticed because the robbers saw 16 others just like it driving there.
I rush inside, slide across the floor to avoid bullets (really just for effect since there are never any bullets), grab a pot of scalding hot coffee, and throw it on the would be assailants just like the scene in Fast Times at Ridgemont High.
I then call the cops, do a couple of quick live interview,s and the clerk tosses me an extra Krispy Kreme doughnut “on the house” as I turn an wave a cavalier goodbye.
It’s exhausting.
Even though it’s all hypothetical.
But heck, because the heroics are so impressive in my hypothetical, I think I am probably excused for having to do anything now in reality if a real robbery ever does take place. You know?
Really.
