I Hate Christmas Music and So Should You

When I was a kid, I loved Christmas so much. I remember specifically thinking one year that I didn't even need any presents, because just the feeling that I got around Christmas time was magical. You know how it goes: the tree, the colored lights, snow out the window, the cocoa/tea, and of course, the presents.

But even more than Christmas Day -- the day of presents -- I always loved Christmas Eve. I don't know if it was the anticipation or the excitement of what was to come the next day, but for most of my life, Christmas Eve was one of the very best days of the year. We would often go to church -- yawn, I know, but hey, it's for Jesus -- and then we could come home to have a special dinner of some kind. My grandpa used to show up, and my aunt Peggy still does. It was very tight-knit, and although I didn't grow up in one of those "warm" households (like your typical Italian family) those nights were as close to guaranteed perfection as you can imagine.

One of the best memories I have is listening to the radio every year on Christmas Eve, and hearing the panoply of Christmas songs that would come on the radio. Although Christmas was always a big thing when I was a kid, it wasn't inescapable like it is now. There were Christmas commercials, but there were also commercials for other things too. And though you might hear a few Christmas songs in the mall in December, you could still listen to Wham! or Bon Jovi on the radio if you wanted to.

But on this one night, we would envelop ourselves in nothing but Christmas music, and it was wonderful! We'd hear all the classics -- "White Christmas," "Jingle Bells," "The Little Drummer Boy," etc. -- and it was a genuine thrill. In fact, hearing a lot of those songs still makes me feel good to this day, due to the association. We also heard a lot of relatively obscure Christmas songs (well, obscure for me), like John Lennon's "Happy Xmas (War is Over)," Bruce Springsteen's "Santa Claus is Coming to Town," and "Do They Know It's Christmas?" (the Feed the World) song. And hearing all these songs packed into one day as you sat around the tree, opened gifts, or gabbed with your relatives, was just the best.

Which brings me to today, in which case nothing is special, everything is overexposed, and there is no hiding from the ubiquitous spectre of Christmas. Not only does Christmas season start before Halloween now, but when it starts, there is absolutely no escaping it. If there is a War on Christmas, then Christmas is kicking the ever-loving shit out of whoever it's fighting.

The bane of my existence today and for the next three weeks is Christmas music. You may think that's silly, as most Christmas songs are happy and some are really great. It should make me feel good! But it doesn't, and the reason why is purely due to repetition.

The second the clock strikes midnight, turning Thanksgiving Day into Black Friday, Christmas is all you will hear about for a straight month. Most of this I am actually pretty good at avoiding: I do a lot of my gift-buying online, and I don't watch a lot of live TV other than football on Sundays, so for the most part I am able to shield myself from the onslaught that is the GIMME GIMME GIMME BUY BUY BUY Christmas season.

But the music is absolutely inescapable.

One day in, I'm assuming, the late 1990s, some asshole genius decided that, starting on the Friday after Thanksgiving, we needed to have multiple radio stations dedicated to nothing but Christmas music, 24 hours a day, for the majority of December. (In case you're wondering, that makes a total of 28 days, or 672 hours. Or better yet, 40,320 minutes, which means you can squeeze approximately 10,080 four-minute songs into that span.

I don't even have 10,080 songs on my entire computer.

Let's say there are 50 Christmas songs TOTAL (I think I'm being very liberal with that number). That means they are playing these approximately 50 songs a total of 201 times each in a month.

I don't know about you, but I don't listen to my favorite ALBUMS THAT MUCH. Who in Jesus's name needs to hear that "pa-rum-pa-pum-pum" song -- 15 different versions of it, I might add! -- 200 times in a month. Name me one person who that benefits.

I work in an office with music that plays overhead. Which means I get precisely 8 consecutive hours of Christmas music every day, that's only if I leave my desk for a half hour. I love Led Zeppelin IV. If I had to listen to Led Zeppelin IV every day for eight hours, I would tear my eardrums out of my head.

Nobody should have to listen to that much repetitive music all day. No one. This is the kind of thing they use to torture people in Guantanamo.

It's bad enough that most "workday" radio stations just shuffle the same shitty eight-our block of songs so you get a "NO REPEAT WORKDAY!" Having to hear the same song five times a week makes me crazy. HAVING TO HEAR MARIAH CAREY'S "ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU" FOUR TIMES IN ONE DAY (which I did, last December) IS ENOUGH TO MAKE ME HOMICIDAL.

What's amazing to me is that no one else seems to give a shit. Even music snobs like myself -- who never listen to the radio and have thousands of albums and a deep appreciation for eclectic musical styles -- don't say a word about this scourge on our world. They seem to be like "Hey! It's Christmas!" But I'm at the point where I actually dread Christmastime. I DREAD CHRISTMASTIME! I hope the eleven year-old me isn't watching this.

I would be absolutely fine if there was some kind of variety in Christmas music. I wouldn't even mind taking regular songs and fucking with the words a little bit to make them Christmasy. Do about 20 of these a year by big artists, and within a decade or so, we might have a much better batch of songs to choose from. But as it stands now, you have a whole lot of Peggy Lee, Bing Crosby, Nat King Cole, and then duplicate versions of the same songs. (And no, Christmas musicians, you aren't fooling anyone with that one version of "Jingle Bells" you do, where you put ten seconds of glissando into "all the way-ayyy-ayyyy-ayyyyy!")

This isn't like "A Christmas Story" being played consecutively on TBS for 24 hours. Not even close. That's because 24 hours of "A Christmas Story" is, well, 24 hours. One glorious day. Also, if you don't want to watch it, you can turn the channel and watch something else! I can't very well ask the guy in the mall to turn the goddamn radio station to Soft Rock Hits.

I want to, again, as I once did, enjoy the holiday without feeling completely suffocated by it. Now that I'm not in school anymore, Christmas's allure has waned. (In school, at least you know you get like a month off around Christmas.) I would just love to be able to casually pop in and out of a Christmas-y mood, without being mandated every waking second of every day to face it down. I have other interests in my life, and I should be able to pursue them without Christmas constantly barreling into me, panting, making sure I didn't forget about it for five seconds.

Bah humbug.

Thanksgiving is for the Chosen Few Now

This was bugging the shit out of me last night. As most things that come up on Facebook do.

There was a click-bait local news article, asking people to comment on the fact that Kmart is going to be open on Thanksgiving Night this year. Which means that instead of Black Friday -- already something I find wholly distasteful -- we now have Black Thursday.

A couple of things that get me riled up about this, the first, and not least of which is the fact that people are shopping on Thanksgiving. I understand Black Friday, as stupid as I think it is. It's become this kind of tradition for some people, to have Thanksgiving dinner, then get up obscenely early (or stay up all night) to get a bunch of deals with a bunch of other thrifty psychopaths.

I don't like it, but I get it.

Thanksgiving is a whole other kettle of fish. Whereas Black Friday unofficially (perhaps officially?) marks the transition from not-Christmas season into Christmas Season, Thanksgiving should be exempt. Why do we let Christmas Season horn in on Thanksgiving, which is one fucking day of the year, and (in my estimation) a superior holiday. Christmas gets a goddamn month, it can wait another 12 hours before it gets started.

I am all about a thriving, robust economy, but are people's lives that empty that they can't even enjoy one Thanksgiving evening at home with their families (or perhaps out with their friends at a pub), and instead have to hurry away the holiday? As of the day after Thanksgiving, you will be hearing nothing but Christmas Songs, and seeing nothing but Santas, elves, snowmen and the like for a solid month.

IT CAN WAIT.

But some people have correctly -- if extremely short-sightedly -- pointed out that it's a free country, and people can choose to either go shopping or stay home if they want to on Thanksgiving night. Totally true and totally valid, except for one thing: that freedom of choice is not afforded to the millions of retail workers who are forced by their employers to have "all hands on deck" for such a busy shopping season.

Moreso than people choosing to waste precious hours with their families, the reactions to this are what I've become offended infuriated by. And I will give you a little spoiler alert: they are all bullshit, and none of them will ever convince me that it's okay.

Some people say things like "If you don't like it, get out of retail!" Number one: fuck you. Number two: seriously? Number three: I hope either you or someone in your family has to work on Black Thanksgiving because they work retail, so you understand why it's such a burden on those who do.

Just to clarify: I'm not including in this the kinds of jobs where we actually need people to be working, like doctors, cops, firefighters, etc. It's not fair, but at least there is some justification to it. I'm narrowing this down to greedy corporations fucking over working families while their CEOs enjoy turkey and cranberries in their large houses.

Also, if you're going to play the "why don't you get a better job?!?!" card, there are a few things you should understand ...

• One: some people actually like working retail, just like you like your job. But you don't want to work on Thanksgiving either do you, asshole?
• Two: have you been paying attention to the news at all for the last 5 years? Not a ton of pret-a-porter jobs out there up for grabs. If you don't understand how a functioning economy works, you should probably just zip it.
• Three: if you are really the kind of person that says "why don't you get a better job?" then oh my lord, go FUCK yourself. I don't know why I am friends with these people in the first place. (Note: these people are not "elitists" either; they are people who say "Wole-Marts" and watch Two and a Half Men. Where any of them get off looking down at other people is way beyond me.)

Are we really going to start living in a country where we separate people who get to celebrate holidays into the Retailers and the Non-retailers? Is this the country I grew up in? Is the country I want to live in? Shit, I have to work the day after Thanksgiving, and I'm really not happy about it. But at least I get a few very precious hours with my family before I have to drive an hour from my parents' house back to work.

Thanksgiving is the quintessential American holiday. (Yes, you can argue the merits of its beginnings and all the subtext related to Native Americans, but I'm not here to fight that battle today.) And yet, we have people -- many of whom call themselves "conservatives" but are just fake-ass contrarians -- who harp all day about the importance of "family," "family values," "the family unit," and any other empty buzzword you can think of, but almost defiantly support taking people away from their families on the one sacred American day of the year.

So here is what I propose: a federal law. (Yes, a fucking law, you Libertarian fucks.) And the law states thusly:

1. Any person who is forced to work at any time on Thanksgiving is exempt from working on Black Friday. So if you work for one hour on Thursday, you get Friday off if you want it. Period. If a person chooses to work Thanksgiving AND Friday, they will be paid time-and-a-half for the Friday shift.
2. Any person who is forced to work on Thanksgiving will be paid at double-time for the first eight hours worked, and triple-time for each hour after that. Since this is a blatant money-grab by these stores, let's spreads that wealth around, eh, Joe the Plumber?
3. So-called "Black Thursday" cannot and will not call employees into work until 8pm, and stores may not open until 9pm. That gives employees an hour to get to the store and do prep work, and gives shoppers three full hours of precious shopping time before midnight.
4. Any breakage of these rules by management will result in a fine up to $10,000 (payable to a food bank) and up to three months in jail. Any manager who knowingly breaks any of these rules will be subject to this penalty, going up the chain of command, including any executives who sign off on it.

It's funny that all the people who have decried a War on Christmas, the people who are usually the most flag-wavingly patriotic of all, don't give a rip about the War on Thanksgiving, the most American holiday of them all. If we can't find a way to let everyone -- including those who work at retail stores -- celebrate Thanksgiving Day, then the country I grew up in ceases to exist as I knew it.

On Manners, Political Correctness and Being a Human Being for Once

There is some shit going on in this country right now, dudes.

So I'm sure you've all read the story about that guy from the Philadelphia Eagles who went to a Kenny Chesney concert (why?) and said something like "I will fight every nigger in here." (I'm not going to say "the N-word," because it's childish, dishonest, and there are like 25 words that start with "N," if not more.) This little who-gives-a-fuck event has brought out the absolute worst in everyone.

Now, I'm not saying that people shouldn't be offended by the use of the word "nigger," because it's a fucking repugnant, vile, demeaning term. The word is loaded by hundreds of years of bad history, and I couldn't possibly fathom the spine-chilling effect that word has on people of African descent. I'm sure it's like opening up a wound.

Having said that .... I have a feeling that the guy who said it (Cooper? Is that his name?) is probably not an out-and-out racist. Sure, he said he would "fight any nigger in here," but considering that he's been hanging out with black teammates for most of his life, do you really think he hates black people? And his career is probably over, not because he's a bad player (although maybe he is, I don't know. He's a white wide receiver), and not because of anything he did, but because of words that came out of his mouth. He will be ostracized pretty much for the rest of his public life. (He should be ostracized for attending a fucking Kenny Chesney concert, but that's for another time.)

The word is so loaded, that simply saying it is like evoking some kind of Candyman/Beetlejuice like spell that cannot be undone. The genie ain't going back in the bottle, the bell can't be unrung, and the toothpaste can't go back in the tube. While yes, the word "nigger" is awful, and makes me feel like shit just typing it, do we have to relegate anyone who utters it complete pariahs for the rest of their lives? Paula Deen, who I could give two halves of a fuck about, is basically done for a while because she used the term. Now, I'm not saying that she shouldn't be fired from whatever who-cares tv show she's on: her employers have the right to do with her what they want. But the idea that somehow just evoking the word -- devoid of context, in the Cooper case -- is a career death sentence.

What Cooper said was stupid and ridiculous, but let's put it in context: he said "I'll fight every nigger in here." So yes, he addressed "niggers" specifically. But ... well, so what? I mean, he didn't say that these so-called "niggers" (his words, not mine!) were inferior, or dumb, or lazy, or any of the other countless bullshit arguments that ACTUAL racists use against black people whilst sitting in their own filth and anonymously making misspelled comments on message boards. He didn't pull an Al Campanis or Jimmy the Greek and try and make some simpleminded "Bell Curve" arguments about the mental inferiority of blacks. In fact, I wonder if, had Cooper said something, "I will take on any of you black motherfuckers," that he would have gotten as much flak. He might have, but I don't know if he would have, because he didn't use the loaded word.

[Side note: I often wonder when it's okay for me to use it, and I'll explain what I mean by that. I don't think it would be ever okay to use it to refer to someone or say it to someone, because it's just a terrible thing to do. Plus, I'd get my ass kicked. But like what if I'm rapping along with some of my favorite rap songs, like Wu-Tang's "Shame on a Nigga," Ice Cube's "The Wrong Nigga to Fuck With," or A Tribe Called Quest's "Sucka Nigga." (Forget the fact that they are using the "-a" version and not the "-er" version.) In this case, I am singing along with songs I enjoy, so should I be able to partake in the integrity of the artists' intents? Or should I self-censor so that I say "NNNN" or "aggiN" (radio-edit style), or just cough. I think I should be able to say it when it comes on a song if I'm rapping along with it, but I'm still not sure if that'll get my ass kicked or not.]

So we have one side of the fence that absolutely has to crucify anyone who uses this word: it's not just black folks either. Although Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson might take their megaphones to the streets to protest any use of the word, they are relatively irrelevant at this point (see Tawana Brawley and "Hymietown" for evidence of their charlatanism). But a lot of it comes from whites. Some people call this "white guilt," and while I think there is definitely some of that (we were pretty fucking awful for a couple hundred years), I think a lot of it is "trying to be down-ism," or white folks grandstanding to show how tolerant and caring and loving they are to all people.

(To wit: click this Deadspin link and read the peacocking, holier-than-thou commenter QqqQ, as he deconstructs a silly meme into his humor vaccuum. If you can't laugh at a Reddit meme about a guy named Tyrone, you have no place in this society. Go find something to be ACTUALLY angry about instead of some silly caption. If QqqQ has a single friend in this world I'll eat my fucking hat.)

I think we are going down a dangerous path when simply saying words -- in a vaccuum, completely devoid of context -- are enough to irrevocably, irreparably change your life. Contrition is never enough, only banishment to leper status will suffice. I'm not saying the guy should have said the word "nigger," but take that word out of the sentence and what do you have. There have been people who have said things much, much more inflammatory about people of African descent, but since they didn't use that nuclear word (the other "N" word), they got away with it. Where is the middle ground? I don't know.

I'll tell you where the middle ground isn't, and that is with the mouthbreathing, self-victimizing white person who says something to the effect of "IF A BLACK KIN SAY IT, HOWS COME I CANT SAYS IT?" The argument is this: rappers and young black men throw the word "nigger" around like white people throw around "dude." Is that a great thing? I mean, I don't think so, but I also don't think it's the most egregious thing ever either. The black community -- TO THEIR CREDIT, I believe -- have reappropriated that word to be a term of friendship and camaraderie.

The word "motherfucker" is pretty vulgar, when you think about it. If you call someone a motherfucker, you're basically saying they had sex with their mother. Not nice. But I can't even count on two hands the number of times a week that I call people -- my friends -- motherfuckers. At face value, them's fighting words. But IN CONTEXT -- the key to all human interpersonal communications -- it's not really that bad. I can call my friend that and he'll laugh and he'll call me that too. In college, we used that word more than we used each other's names. We took a bad word and made it our own, and it's cool.

Now here's the difference, if we were in mixed company, and some stranger tried to step to my friends and start calling them "motherfuckers," we might have had some problems. You aren't us, so you can't use our internal terminology around us. Dig?

But the false-equivalency white asshole will say something like, "Hey, I walk through the ghetto (Ed. note: no you don't, you liar) and I hear these thugs say it to each other all the time. If they can say it then I should be able to say it." Bullshit. First of all, you aren't "one of them." The stigma and the emotional reaction of the word is not something you nor your ancestors ever had to go through. You didn't earn it, you don't have the right to appropriate it. And furthermore, I'm PRET-TY sure you wouldn't be using it as a term of endearment. You would be using it to say something like "Look at these NIGGERS," and then a grin would come across your face, like the cat that at the fucking canary, because aren't you so edgy? And don't you just speak your mind??!? And isn't it refreshing when people can be politically incorrect??!?!

No, you're an asshole who wants to get away with swearing in front of mom. One time when I was a kid, I had a friend over and I wanted to impress him, so I went to my mom and said "Hey mom, isn't ________ an ASS?!" See what I did? I said a naughty word. Holy shit, my friend must have been impressed! This is the same thing: white people want to take the short cut to things; they want to be able to use the word, even though they didn't grow up with it, they didn't have to deal with any history of it, and frankly they haven't fucking EARNED IT.

So how about this, white folk, I'll make a deal with you on behalf of my African-American brethren: you can start saying "nigger" if:

• I can call your mother, daughter, sister or wife a "cunt" or a "whore." After all, if you can call women those words, we should be able to too, right? RIGHT?
• You get racially profiled at airports
• You get pulled over when you're just minding your own business because of what you look like
• You -- and only you -- get asked for your id, even though you're with like a half-dozen other whites
• I can use words about your particular European ethnicity, like Dago, Mick, Kike, etc. If I can throw the worst fucking stereotype that exists about your ethnic background, we can make a deal, you filthy Italian greaseball fuck. Or you southern redneck sister-fucking inbred shit-kicking hick? We're cool with all that now, right?

One more rule: you can't say it on a message board, or in a chat room, or in the comfort of your own home or other whites who will guffaw and slap you on the knee when you do it. You have to do it in the middle of a non-gentrified urban neighborhood, with no police or firearms around to protect you. Then we'll really see how fucking brave you really are.

And if you have gone out to purchase a Riley Cooper jersey to "show him support" or to "stop being politically correct," take it one step further. Go to a gun shop, wait for the background check to come back, take your firearm home, take a good long look in the mirror, look at what a victim you've become and what's happened to your life. Put a plastic bag over your head (to alleviate some of the forthcoming mess), put the gun to your temple, and pull the fucking trigger. If you didn't own a Riley Cooper jersey and you're going out to buy one now because he said the word "nigger," you have proven to have zero value in our polite society. Happy trails.

To Have a Friend You Gots Ta Be a Friend

I feel very bad about myself when I dislike someone who is very nice. I have always been taught that being kind to others is one of the great virtues that we can bestow upon each other, and I would love to be able to honor this trait in others. And yet, I find myself often becoming unbelievably frustrated  -- even to the point of downright dislike -- with people who otherwise should should be worthy of my praise. And my praise, folks, is a great coup for he or she who receives it.

There is a person -- let's call her Janice --  who is in my life basically every day; she truly has a heart of gold, and cares deeply about the well-being of her friends and family. And every day I want to scream at her and tell her to shut the fuck up.

Janice always says she "doesn't have friends," even though she interacts with countless people every day of her life. Still, her social circle seems to consist almost solely of coworkers and family members. This fact further compounds my guilt, as I would love to be someone who is able to reach out and be friendly, but I can't bring myself to do it.

So why is Janice so seemingly bereft of close friends? It isn't because she lacks self-confidence or that she's mean to people or that she's some kind of "loser" who is "undeserving" of friendship. It's because she is just a crappy friend. Not a crappy person, but a crappy friend.

A coworker of mine once said "In order to have a friend, you have to be a friend." And that struck a real chord with me, because what it made me realize is that your own self-worth or face-value quality as a human being does not necessarily equate to having numerous and/or deep friendships. How many people do you know who are total bag-of-shit assholes who have a million friends? They are generally not nice, not that interesting, usually back-stabbing, shit-talking, obnoxious, mean-spirited and grating. And yet they always have a million things to do on the weekends, and a thousand pictures on Facebook where they are drinking on a patio somewhere with what seems to be a dozen other people.

Now I am certainly not bereft of friendship in any way: I don't have a million of them, but I also am not wanting for deep friendship in my life. I have about a dozen or so incredibly close friends that I trust implicitly, fifty or so relatively close friends (I call them "hangout friends"), and maybe 200 acquaintances or friends who are tangential in my life.

Does this mean I'm a nicer person than Janice? Absolutely not, I am a complete asshole: arrogant, pedantic, hypercritical, hypersensitive, stubborn ... if you've met me this is all redundant information. But I know that I'm a better friend than Janice is.

That sounds like an awful thing to say, but my self-awareness of this fact tells me that at least I have the wherewithal to understand what it is to be a friend, and not just a nice person. Let me illustrate the differences.

[Quick note: this is going to seem like me tooting my own horn, but believe me, it's not. This is simply to illustrate the understanding I have of what it takes to be a good friend, versus not really "getting it." Janice, as nice a person as she is, just doesn't fucking get it.]

First, in order to be a friend, you have to care about your friends. This sounds so simple you probably want to slap the side of my head and say "no shit, dummy." But if you've spent a day in your life with someone who doesn't have the curiosity gene, you know exactly what I'm talking about. I was lucky, because I got the curiosity gene in spades, jack. I am genuinely interested in learning not just about events and facts, but about other people. I like to know how many siblings you have, or how you get along with your parents, or what your favorite albums are. Not because I'm trying to kiss your ass, but because you're not me, and I want to know what it's like to be not-me once in a while.

If you tell me, "my sister is being an asshole," someone might say "oh that sucks," which is a nice (if cursory) bit of commiseration. However, I want to know why your sister is being an asshole. What did she do? What did she say? What was your response? You might think that's me being nosy; I consider it moving away from abstractions and into concrete details.

The byproduct of this is that (and this is a little trick you might not realize), since I'm talking about YOU, you are going to find me slightly more interesting. Why? Because I am engaging you in YOUR interests. Again, this is not some ruse or clever trick to get you to give me your social security number: I genuinely am interested. But because I was blessed by God Almighty with a wide swath of interests, I can engage you in almost any conversation you want to have, on your own turf. Because of this, people think I'm much more interesting than I actually am.

Janice is a different story: it is all about her. Always. I guarantee if you put a gun to her head, she couldn't tell you one fact about me: how many siblings do I have? Where did I grow up? Am I married? It never occurs to Janice to ask these questions or to engage people on this kind of level. Not just me, but anyone.

So when you interact with Janice, it becomes about Janice: what's going on with HER, what is wrong in HER life, what is annoying HER. I've seen it in mixed company: a bunch of people get into a conversation at dinner or in a room or wherever, and someone deigns to ask her a question about what's going on, and it usually starts with a long exhale, and then either "Well......" or "So....." And you can almost feel the regret coming off the person who asked the question. They just were trying to make conversation, and instead got sucked into the history of the world.

Secondly, you have to share the burden with your friends. The most wonderful thing about having good friends is the way that you complement each other, balance each other, keep each other in check, and lift each other up when one of you is strong and one of you is weak.

In this same circle of people that Janice is in, I've had some very good, very personal conversations where people are going through crises (or God forbid I'm going through one), and we talk about it, support each other, bounce ideas off of each other, and try to eventually come to a greater truth. Talking about your problems with a good friend who has no agenda is one of the most cleansing and burden-relieving things you can do. It's the raison d'etre of friendship in the first place.

Janice doesn't do this.

Piggybacking off of the example above, every conversation is either about Janice, or Janice doesn't participate. What Janice does do is come into the day with a pre-existing story that she's clearly gone over in hear head about 50 times. She then relays this story not to one person to get it off her chest, but to every single person with which she has regular conversations. And she doesn't just give a 90-second overview: she goes into elaborate, painstaking minutiae, every detail, every nuance. And she does this over and over again. She vents, and venting is okay. But every day she just piles her own shit on everyone else, when lord knows we have our own battles to fight.

Janet will, at least once every 2-3 days, have a tale cued up about some mildly annoying situation that happened at a restaurant, or a store, or in traffic. And she elevates it to epic proportions (even though she doesn't have the oratory skill to make it interesting). She assumes that everyone is going to be empathetic to her tale of woe, even though most of us just roll our eyes, pretend we're reading a text, or quietly slink away so as to not get sucked into a Sorrow and the Pity-length treatise about how unfair life is.

This is going to sound like a stupid parallel but I'm going to use it anyway: remember in high school when your teacher would pile homework on you, and then you didn't do it because you had too much? And then the teacher would say "Well, why didn't you do it? It was a simple assignment!" And you were a kid so you couldn't say it, but what you wanted to say (and goddammit, SHOULD have said!) was "Because I have ten other classes and they gave me a shitload of homework too, asshole!" The teacher forgot that his class was not the center of your universe; you have other matter to attend to. When someone thinks they are the center of the universe -- like Janice does -- they tend to dump all of their problems on you as if it's your solemn duty to help shoulder the load.

Thirdly -- and finally -- and most elementary: don't be annoying to those around you. Again, sounds rudimentary, but how many people don't realize that people are trying to avoid them. And how many people don't realize that the reason they don't get invited places is because they are more trouble than they are worth.

If a bunch of my friends were having a party, and they were purposely trying to keep the event a secret from me, I would absolutely be hurt. In fact, this happened to me a thousand times when I was younger and not nearly as in-demand as I am today. But in my brain, I wouldn't think "Why the fuck didn't those assholes invite me? They are so mean!" I would think, "I wonder what it is about me that caused them not to want me around."

I say this NOT because I feel it's necessary to conform to anyone's standards or try to please everyone in spite of yourself. I'm just saying that some self-reflection can often be a very useful thing. Sometimes, it's the things that people don't tell you about yourself that are the most truthful. If someone has a bone to pick with you, they will tell you flat-out; if someone doesn't want to hurt your feelings, they will try to tiptoe around you so that you don't get hurt.

Janice, as nice as she is, can be incredibly annoying. She is loud; in fact she's unarguably the loudest person I know. Her voice carries across continents, through lead walls, into the troposphere. And it's not just the volume of her voice, it's that she complains about everything that is happening to her at the loudest possible volume. (Again, saddling everyone else with her own problems.)

And she says the word "fuck" a LOT. And I mean more than any person I've ever met. She doesn't just say it when it's needed, such as for emphasis or out of frustration. She uses "fucking" as an adjective. Like: "All I wanted to do was order a fucking soda." Or: "This fucking guy has no idea what he's talking about." And "They told me it was gonna be a five-minute fucking wait for a table." This is clearly the speech of someone who has lost all perspective of when it's okay to use "fucking" and when you're literally just trying to fill up word-space.

Also, the word coming out of her mouth is like a dagger in the eardrums. There are certain people who are great at swearing, who give it a certain savoir faire. George Carlin was one of them; my uncle Jim was one of them. Janice is not one of them. Every "fuck" or "fucking" that comes out of her word-hole is akin to a window-pane shattering in the other room. It's not soothing, it's not refreshing. It sounds vile, and it sounds like white trash.

So to recap: when your friends feel like they have to appease you and "live with" your more overbearing qualities, it might mean that you are being tolerated and not necessarily "liked." Ironically, it is polite society that often shields us from ourselves, in that no one wants to tell us when we need to tone it down. (I would much prefer someone having "the talk" with me so I can be aware of my shortcomings or perceived shortcomings, rather than obliviously go on repeating them to an increasingly annoyed group.)

If you want to have friends, try and be the person you would like to be around. There are enough people out there like you that will appreciate it. And maybe they'll invite you to parties and shit.

Green Lakes: A Shitty, Racist Place

You know who hates camping? Me.

Okay, so I don't really "hate" camping. It's more like I am not an "outdoorsy" type. I hate bugs, I hate the heat, I hate sleeping on dirt and/or mud, I hate sleeping with bugs, I hate freezing my nutsac off, I hate waking up in a haze and walking into the wilderness where there are no toothbrushes or flushing toilets. Man used to camp because man had to camp. It was necessity borne of a dearth of technological advancements with which we are now quite blessed. Even the Amish have cellphones now.

So a few friends of mine decided they wanted to go camping for a few days. It was kind of short notice so I knew I wouldn't be able to go, but I told them that if it was close enough, I would swing by for the evening to hang out, drink a couple of craft brews, regale them with my rapier's wit, and perhaps eat a hot dog or six. I roll with a pretty awesome crew: they are intelligent, interesting, humorous, thoughtful and kind. We like to hang out, talk, listen to tunes and enjoy each other's company. As Slick Rick once said, we don't cause trouble, we don't bother nobody. Here's a brief introduction to my crew this evening:

• D.J. and Jenna: together for 13 years, married for a couple with a young boy.
• Rob and Kim: married just had their second kid a few months ago
• Richie and Ploy: a younger couple who have been married a couple years
• Dwayne: my neighbor who lives down the street from me.
• Andrea: amicus curiae ("friend of the crew") who showed up a little later

If you're scoring at home, we have an diverse mix: five males, four females. Two African-American males, three caucasian women, two caucasian men, and a Thai female. That isn't really relevant but I just want everyone to know how tolerant I am of various cultures. We are like a walking beer commercial.

Turns out that the campgrounds starts kicking out visitors around 9pm. Also, the campground said that there are to be no more than six people on the campgrounds at any time. Green Lakes is not far from where we live (20 minutes from pretty much any of our houses), and probably not that expensive, which is why I think it got picked as a last-minute camping option.

So I get there around 8pm and the sun is still out. We have a couple drinks, some food, play a little beer pong. The Park Rangers come by to do their cursory check of everything: keep the music down, don't be rowdy, don't do anything illegal. Strictly boilerplate stuff. We listen, we adhere, we are polite. This isn't an actual warning, it's what these folks have to do every night to make sure everyone is in compliance. Fine.

Anyway, the night gets a little later, and I can hear ruckus from some of the other camps. We are playing our music at a very, VERY low level. (I basically can't hear any of it, and I guarantee anyone more than 8 feet away can't hear it either.) I am getting ready to leave until I am encouraged -- nay, ordered -- to have another drink or six. I comply and seat myself.

Shortly thereafter, the kinda bitchy female Ranger comes back saying that another camp has been complaining about our noise. I find this claim to be spurious at best. First of all, we weren't even being that loud. Secondly, the camp directly to our left was being even louder. Thirdly, and maybe this is may own naivete, but wouldn't the camp come to ask us to please keep it down if we were being too loud? 

This last query brings me to one of two possible conclusions: one, another camp was sincerely bothered by our "noise" (they must have had fucking super-hearing) and were too chickenshit to come over to us like a MAN and ask us to keep it down. So they tattled on us to the park ranger. 

Two, there was no complaint and the park range was just making her rounds and got on a power trip. She decided that since she's the big swingin' dick in this place, she's gonna unzip and show us who's boss. It wasn't just her presence that brings me to this conclusion, but the fact that she said "I believe I asked you to turn your music down," and then before she left said, "This is my second time visiting you: you do NOT want me coming a third time." As if the first visit the rangers made was anything more than a standard "have a good night" and sniff-check for weed. I have a feeling Ranger Lady had a bit of a hard-on for my peeps.

Another thing: Ranger Lady said "there are only supposed to be six of you here and I count seven, so one of you is going to have to go." Really? Just like that, one of us has to go. Andrea said, truthfully, "I just got here, they let me in the gate." To which Ranger Lady replied, "They SHOULDN'T HAVE." Then bitch, go talk to your coworkers about letting people in after they're supposed to.

Now to be fair, Rob has one of those voices that "carries," even when he doesn't mean it to. So he was talking at what he considered to be a regular volume, but whenever he does this, the other six of us say "SHHHHHHHHH," since he's so fucking loud. It's not really his fault, he can't help it.

Now here comes the kicker....

We are still hanging out, keeping our music on at a VERY LOW volume. (Literally, they played "One Love" by Nas, a song I've heard a thousand times, and I couldn't even identify it until about 75% of the way through.) There came more flashlights, ostensibly from the Park Ranger Lady. Even though we had raised nothing remotely resembling a ruckus, I dart to the restroom to keep our total number at six (as far as the Rangers were concerned). Well, that and to take a leak. I had been drinking for like 4 hours.

I come back and apparently everything was okay: Ranger Lady had not shown up. Not five minutes later, a car comes down the road with its headlights on and stops in our area. I am about to go to my car and start driving home. Before I can, a police officer sees me and says "How you doing?" I, being fearful of all authority, am exceedingly polite. The cop I talk to is VERY, very cool. He basically says (paraphrasing), "Look man, I don't want to be here but technically we got a complaint from another camp and when that happens we kinda HAVE to check up on it. You guys look like you're not doing anything bad, just keep it down, okay?" I thank the officer and walk back to my crew, waiting for them to leave so I can hop in my Altima and get the fuck outta Green Lakes.

As I walk to my peeps, I notice that the OTHER police officer is talking to Rob (who resembles Jake Gyllenhaal, kinda) and Dwayne (who looks kinda like Turk from Scrubs). The other cop seems to be a bit more of a hard-ass, taking a firmer tone with the two of them. Dwayne and Rob are both talkers, and they use this opportunity to start sweet-talking the officers and hopefully get them on our side(s). Rob starts talking about the Yankees, Dwayne starts talking about having kids, etc., etc. 

Suddenly -- and this was the fucking coup de grace -- the officer asked to see Dwayne's (Turk's) ID, saying something like "I just need to see your ID, you understand." He took it and scanned it through his police scan thing. He didn't ask anyone else for their ID. Not Rob (who was standing beside him), not Ploy, not DJ, not Richie, not Andrea and not me. Only Dwayne; only the black guy.

Luckily for Dwayne, he is an upstanding citizen and has no outstanding warrants (that the cops will ever find out about!), and so it was all good. Still, this level of harassment for such a paltry infraction screams that there is another agenda. Long story short, do not go to Green Lakes, because the people who run the place are racist.

Hetero As It Gets (Ladies...)

It has been brought to my attention -- more than once, I might add -- that some have bandied about the notion that I, your humble narrator, might be a homosexual. This truly baffles me. But first a few housekeeping tips.

I don't think there is anything "wrong" with being gay, obviously. In fact, I would like to think that if I thought I were a gay guy, that I would be comfortable enough to come out and say it. I don't know if, when the rubber met the road, I would be able to actually do this. But I would like to think I could.

In the wake of Barack Obama finally joining most non-hypocritical people by saying he thinks gays should be able to get married, it seems that most of my friends are pretty tolerant of gay marriage and gay-related issues too. And actually, I am super-tolerant of all lifestyles. After all, if you live in a society where homosexuality is marginalized, why would you "choose" it? Wouldn't it just be easier to "choose" to be a heterosexual? I don't think you pick it; it definitely picks you.

Which brings me to this point: I absolutely love women. It's not something I talk about all that much, because I have a working brain and don't have to default to uninteresting neanderthal grunting. I love girls a lot. I am very shy around them, but that does not mean I don't admire them. I did not choose this, by the way: I did not wake up one day and decide to become attracted to women. I've been attracted to women since as far back as I can remember. Even when I was a kid, I knew that there was something about chicks that was pretty all right. I never admitted this to anyone, mind you, because of the guilt inherent in an Irish-Catholic upbringing. But I have always -- ALWAYS -- been into broads. Sorry, "skirts."

That brings me to a second point, and please hear me out. I know I just said that I'm crazy-tolerant, and I am. But here's the deal: homosexuality disgusts me.

Let me finish.

I'm not saying that a person's lifestyle disgusts me, or that I judge anyone, or that I look down upon anyone for any reason. Someone being a homosexual doesn't bother me at all. Not in the slightest. But the idea of two men being together -- sexually, I mean -- makes me incredibly uncomfortable. Especially the thought of one of those men being me.

Now before you play junior psychoanalyst, no, this is not one of those "I think he doth protest too much" situations. I already told you that I'm cool with gay dudes who wanna rail each other in the privacy of their own homes. But in the few instances where I've been privy to images of male-on-male action, I get incredibly uncomfortable. I loved Brokeback Mountain ... except for all the dude-on-dude action.

To me it's like spiders: there is nothing inherently wrong with spiders, but they gross me out, dude! I wouldn't want to be sitting in a pile of spiders, or a pile of naked bro's for that matter. It's just a matter of personal preference. But I'm not saying that spiders should all be eradicated or that spiders shouldn't be allowed to marry other spiders if they want to.

If I may sidebar: I think this makes me more tolerant that most people even! It's easy for people who "support" homosexuality (ie. aren't grossed out by it) to be tolerant. It's a whole other kettle of fish for people who think it's grody to be okay with it.

Back to the original topic. I can see how someone might surmise that I'm gay since I haven't had a significant relationship with a girl in about 6 years (at least that anyone knows about!), but that doesn't mean that I haven't had ... let's say "episodes" here and there. And it doesn't mean that I haven't been working my magic.

I tend to fly solo to bars and when out to dinner, but that doesn't mean that I'm a closet case.

I will say this: I think that gay dudes are generally very interesting, more interesting than a lot of straight guys. I don't know if it's that they are wittier, more bitchy or better with cultural references (all three of which I am as well ... I guess that might be leading people to the wrong conclusion), but I do find that I enjoy talking to to them. I just don't wouldn't enjoy making sweet, sweet love to them.

What confuses me about the conspiracy theory about me is that I don't "fit the profile" of a gay man in any way. I am 250+ lbs., I am sloppy as hell, and I dress like shit. I will admit that I can perform a perfect sibilant "S," which also might give people the wrong impression. But don't take my quick wit and whistlin' "S"s fool ya: I'm all about boobs and child-bearing hips. Always will be.

I will say that I possess, one could say, less "masculine" qualities. I am sensitive (overly so, one might say), I get easily emotional, and I get nervous easily. I don't do manly shit like going to shooting ranges or doing Vegas with a gaggle of douchebags. I like foreign films and independent music. I'm pretty sure all the hops I've consumed in the last half-decade have quadrupled my estrogen levels, but that doesn't mean I want to grab another dude's johnson. Not by a long shot.

I guess if you were to look at the circumstantial evidence, I come off as a regular Kevin Spacey, without the acting chops, that the world knows about! I've never been married or even engaged. (Incidentally, I was at dinner with some new coworkers a few weeks ago, and I was asked if I've ever been married or had kids; I replied no to both, and everyone said, "Really? Never?" As if it was impossible to believe that I wasn't at least divorced at my age.) But I live alone: you will never hear of me living with any "longtime companions," unless you're referring to the silverfish under the floorboards.

Long story short: you have nothing to worry about ladies. I am as straight as an arrow and as hetero as the day is long. Sometimes I wish I could just get down with dudes, because frankly most girls suck. But I would just end up feeling like a real silly goose. What with all the male genitalia in my bottom and all.

Actor Hetero-Man Crush Time!

The following are the actors that I will watch no matter how crappy their movie appears (and they've had a stinker or two in their day). This is a list of actors right now, not (necessarily) over their body of work. Also, this is male actors only, because you can't have a man-crush on a girl, dummy!:

• Philip Seymour Hoffman (naturally)
• Paul Giamatti
• Michael Sheen
• Gene Hackman
• Robert Duvall
• Jon Hamm
• Jeff Bridges
• Bryan Cox
• John C. Reilly
• Alan Arkin
• Chris Cooper
• Don Cheadle
• Ted Danson (tv mostly)
• Willem Dafoe
• John Malkovich
• Luis Guzman
• Daniel Day-Lewis
• Richard Dreyfuss(!)
• Jeremy Renner
• Steve Coogan
• John Hawkes
• Geoffrey Rush
• Stanley Tucci
• Casey Affleck
• Viggo Mortensen
• Tom Wilkinson
• Michael Gambon
• David Strathairn
• Guy Pearce
• Ed Harris
• Alan Alda

That's enough for now I think.

Flying

I have flown a couple of times in my life, and largely without incident. Which scares the living shit out of me.

I know that the odds of being a plane crash are astronomically low -- somewhere between being hit by lightning and being eaten by a koala -- and yet, somehow my overblown ego feels that I'm likely to win the unlucky lottery. Even writing that sentence makes me think that I'm going to end up the footnote in some kind of ironic story where some schmuck in upstate New York predicted his own death, and how sad it was.

The thing is this: I'm not really afraid of dying, per se. It's not that I want to die, mind you, but death isn't the thing about flying. It's the falling, and the screaming, and the all that time you have to think about what a loser you are and how little you've done with your pitiful, meaningless existence. At least if I get hit by a bus, the lights are gonna go out pretty quickly and that will be that. If I ever have to put one of those fucking oxygen masks over my head in a plane, I might just tie the thing off so I can go off into the netherworld via a euphoric lack of oxygen, instead of a violent collision with the seat in front of me.

But is that really what terrifies me about flying? That's the endgame, truth be told, but there's a lot more leading up to that. You could die almost any day of your life, from almost any cause. You take a risk whenever you get out of bed or stick your face in a fan. So to me it seems (and I know that this is logically absolute bullshit) that the number of circumstances that could lead to death seem to escalate on a plane.

Side note: whenever you read about plane travel, they say that it's the safest way to get from one place to another, and then, for comparison, mention how many deadly auto crashes there are each year -- usually something like 40,000. Now I don't want to get into a fucking car either.

It's just that if the motor goes out on your car, you can pull to the side of the road and call AAA. You can't do that 30,000 feet up in the air. I know that planes can glide if power goes out (I'll take your goddamn word for it, thank you), but every little thing has to be perfect in order for a plane to work, right? Not only does each bolt have to be tightened, and the wings have to not fall off the side of the plane, but physics has to continue to work. I know that Newton proved his so-called "Laws of Physics" many years ago, but what if they aren't really laws at all. What if they're just "Tendencies of Physics"? Has anyone investigated this??

I'm not really afraid of terrorism so much, because that would be just dumb luck. The odds that my plane from Scranton to Wichita is going to be hijacked is slim. Also, it seems like if someone tries that shit these days, everyone on the plane will try to bumrush the guy. I wouldn't be one of them, only because if I take my hands off the armrests, the plane will destabilize and spin out of control anyway.

Do you know how many planes fly every day? It's something like 30,000 every effing DAY! Successfully! That has got to be some kind of witchcraft. There is no way that can happen. There aren't even 30,000 planes in the U.S., are there?

This is what scares me the most about flying. I've never had a "bad flight" (knock on Palo Santo wood), and I know that the more I fly, the greater the likelihood that I will. I've been in a few near-accidents in the car, and since I've seen them come and go, I'm pretty calm in the driver's seat when they look imminent. Not so in the cabin of a jet; the first sign of trouble and I will literally shit myself. Literally. I've done it over less.

So wish me safe travels as those engines spool up and the wind carries me and some unlucky saps to another area code. I need it.

Tumble Out of Bed and I Stumble to the Kitchen...

So here's something. 

I was unemployed for about four and a half months. The reason why is immaterial; suffice it to say that I was rather terrible at my previous job, and both my former employer and I decided that I probably should stop coming in. So I was on the government tit for 1/3 of the last calendar year; it's not something I'm proud of, but I paid into the goddamn thing, so get off my ass.

Anyway I have recently procured myself gainful employment (my new employer got a nice discount for my copious abilities), and am back among the working stiffs. And although I couldn't be happier about it, I should reflect briefly about my time on the dole.

Do you know what sucks about being unemployed?

• You don't make as much money as you used to.

That's the list. Everything else about it is incredible! I knew when I did get a job, I would have to give up some of the comforts of my freeloading existence. It almost makes me sorry that I'm so charismatic, convincing and qualified. 

When you're unemployed, you can get up out of bed whenever the hell you want. What day is it? Tuesday? Nope, it's Saturday. Every day is Saturday. I was shocked to see Judge Judy on TV when I got up instead of college football. One night I couldn't sleep, so I stayed up all night and watched TV until the sun came up. Then I went to bed around 11am and slept all day. Just like the old joke about the dog being able to lick itself, it was because I could.

This is true: one day I woke up and thought it was Thursday all day long, but instead it was Friday. Oh to have that kind of blissful ignorance at work!

There were times I needed to get to the bank (although I'm not sure why since they really didn't have anything for me) or the post office or wherever else. I didn't have to wait until my lunch break, or get up wicked early or rush there after work. I could get up, make some coffee, edit a few Wikipedia pages (okay, like a hundred of them) and go whenever I felt like it. Showering was strictly optional, though greatly appreciated.

If I wanted to go to a coffee shop or a diner or a book store, I could just get up and go LIT'RALLY any time I wanted to. (Granted, I never did any of those things, but you can imagine the possibilities!) Hit a matinee? Grab a beer at 12:30pm? Stay in bed? You're goddamn right.

I guess there are a couple downsides: when people ask what you do, you have to tell them you're unemployed or "between jobs," which always elicits a combination of sympathy and pretending it's okay. (When met someone and told her I was unemployed, she replied, "That's understandable." Bless her heart.) Also telling everyone you are out of work is pretty humbling; it usually comes up right after they told you they finally broke down and bought that solid gold front door.

Also, no round of drinks is truly on you: it's on Andrew Cuomo.

There is a certain level of despair, too, that comes with joblessness. It is a major blow to the ego, which is why (I'm guessing) that so many people lack the gumption to get up and find a gig. I know that I took my sweet-ass time (read: the holidays and a few weeks after New Year's) before I got my bee-hind out there looking for work. I had a total of three interviews: I was turned down for the first, I withdrew from the second, and I nailed the third. But my confidence took a big hit, and I knew it at the time. It was the kind of thing where I had to sit in my car for twenty minutes before every interview to simultaneously psych myself up and calm myself down. I can completely understand why people stay home on the couch instead of getting out there and looking for work: I did it too.

There is also a certain degree of loneliness you get when all your friends are at work and you are at home by yourself. There were days on end where I never left the house. Days fly off the calendar and you make not one dent in the world. That part stinks too I guess. But I would highly recommend taking a few months off if possible to decompress, get your head back in order, and get the "itch" to work again. Because before long, the itch becomes like a rash. The impetus to be around other people is also a surprising motivator.

But these days, as another working schnook, I have to get up before 8am(!), shower, put on pants(!!!) and show up to a place promptly in order to get a paycheck and not get yelled at. Isn't that really the Amer'can Dream right there? I like my new gig a lot so far, I just hope I'm good at it.

No I'm not doing play-by-play for Bills games, or working in a brewery, or writing for The Source, or any other dream job I had when I was a high school senior. But a j.o.b. of any type is nothing to sneeze at. It's not just the fact that they give you money for showing up, but it rekindles some sense of your own worth. I feel really bad for people who struggle to find jobs for whatever reason: no experience, lack of interviewing skills, lack of networks. It has to be maddening. I got very lucky that I fooled someone into thinking I'd be a good hire. 

I don't know what the hell the point of any of this was. Oh well. Happy Easter folks.

Bonus SNL: Best Ever Cast Members

Since I am still in my SNL frame of mind, I'm going to list what is, definitely, the best list of cast members the show has ever had. Let me set a few ground rules:

First, this is a list of those who performed best on the show. In other words, you won't see Robert Downey, Jr. Ben Stiller, or Sarah Silverman just because of their later success. If you didn't do it between 11:30pm and 1am, it doesn't count.

Also, this person might have gone on to have a flop of a career after SNL, but that doesn't weigh into my list. Which, by the way, is absolute gospel.

Also, this might not necessarily mean THE funniest (although I think most of them are) but sometimes the best role players or utility players. Some of them might not have been the primary focus of a given sketch, but they could be counted on more times than not.

Also, there are going to be some omissions here, and some might chalk it up to sexism or racism, but to me it's a matter of talent and performance. For example, some might think Amy Poehler is a no-brainer here, but aside from some early strong seasons, she got a little lazy with her impressions. (See: Clinton, Hillary; Grace, Nancy)

I am also going to put them into categories: Show-Stoppers, Utility Players, and Impressionists. The Show-Stoppers are the ones who could make a skit hilarious (regardless of writing) with just their charisma and humor. The Utility players could be relied on to do any role needed, despite the quality of the skit. (They were the ones you never realized you would miss so much when they left.) And the Impressionists were good enough to actually make you forget the performer's name.

Here we go...

SHOW-STOPPERS

• Bill Murray - The original "alternative comic" on SNL
  
• Eddie Murphy - Carried the show for 4 years by himself
  
• Gilda Radner - Oozing with charisma
  
• Jimmy Fallon - Despite his constant cracking up, his energy carried the show
  
• Kristen Wiig - The most talented female the show has ever produced
  
• Mike Myers - See Fallon above
  
• Will Ferrell - The heir apparent to Bill Murray

UTILITY PLAYERS

• Dan Aykroyd - The Swiss Army knife of the first cast
  
• Fred Armisen - Can play any race, always finds the funny part of the character
  
• Jan Hooks - The most versatile female the show ever had, and a great actress
  
• Joe Piscopo - Don't laugh, the guy was Eddie Murphy's only wingman
  
• Maya Rudolph - The female Armisen (or Armisen is the male Rudolph)
  
• Molly Shannon - Woefully underrated
  
• Phil Hartman - Never had a bad performance. Ever.

IMPRESSIONISTS

• Bill Hader - The best technician in show history
  
• Dana Carvey - No one did a better job of getting to the heart of the character
  
• Darrell Hammond - Sometimes phoned it in, but brilliant

WILD CARD

• Tina Fey - Didn't perform much, but re-energized the show

CONSPICUOUSLY ABSENT

• John Belushi - I just never got him.
  
• Chevy Chase - I thought he did the same schtick over and over
  
• Chris Farley - Sometimes brilliant, but sometimes just over the top
  
• Amy Poehler - Got a little too impressed with her own talent

UNDERRATED

• Chris Parnell
  
• Will Forte
  
• Abby Elliot
  
• Jon Lovitz
  
• Jason Sudeikis

And the worst five cast members in SNL history:

5) Melanie Hutsell - One-note
4) Rob Schneider - The brainless "Richmeister" was his only notable character
3) Adam Sandler - One note (Opera Man, Cajun Man), and usually just juvenile
2) Keenan Thompson - Bad actor, terrible impressionist, always the same
1) Horatio Sanz -

I'm Here to Fix Things: "Saturday Night Live"

Since I'm so full of good incredible ideas, I've decided to get back into the blogosphere with my new feature, "I'm Here to Fix Things." It's my way to give free advice or guidance to an institution that clearly needs it. It's my version of pro bono work.

I'm not breaking any news here when I say that the venerable Saturday Night Live has been a little weak over the last decade or so. It has had some flashes of brilliance (the Betty White episode from last year comes to mind, even though I'm pretty annoyed that it was spurred on by a knee-jerk internet campaign), and once in a while a very funny skit. But for the most part, it's really not that funny. I mean I still watch it (usually on Sunday mornings) but not because it really makes me laugh.

If it didn't have a rotating cast, tradition on its side, and the occasional "buzz," it would have been cancelled years ago. There is no way that it has merited 35+ seasons based on quality alone.

Although Lorne Michaels may be a powerful "industry" big shot, he has really let the show get away from him. It's almost like he doesn't know comedy anymore. He has let one of the more talented casts that the show has ever had (Wiig, Hader & Armisen are all in the top 15 in cast history) die on the vine with atrocious, lazy writing.

So here's how to fix it.

1) Get rid of the dead weight, ie. Taran Killam and Keenan from "Keenan and Kel." Killam technically can do an "impression," but he doesn't do any of them well. Keenan used to be the token black guy, but now that they have the eminently more-talented Jay Pharaoh, Keenan is really no longer needed. Not that he was ever good. His impressions are awful (notably his godawful Al Roker), and he is too fat to play half of the people he plays (Herman Cain, Tiger Woods, etc.). He almost makes Horatio Sanz look like a great talent by comparison. Almost.

2) Get rid of the skits where the hosts play themselves. These usually manifest themselves as a talk show, where the talk show host says "ladies and gentleman, please welcome [real host]." The point of having a sketch show is to portray other people and events, not to be a vanity piece for your host. When Donald Trump hosted several years ago, there was one (1) skit in which he didn't play Donald Trump. We already met the celebrity in the intro, let's make that the last time we see those people as themselves.

3) Stop having Justin Timberlake on. I get it, he's supposedly talented, and somehow he's made a side-career for himself by being a comic. (I don't get it, the guy is not funny when Andy Samberg or Jimmy Fallon aren't writing for him.) The subtext of every Timberlake appearance is, "Isn't Timberlake TALENTED?!" Enough. He plays along, and good for him, but I'd take Jon Hamm or Alec Baldwin any day of the week at face value.

4) If you are going to do a spoof of another show (like "The View," for example) have it say something. It usually only does the same impression week after week, going to the tried and true impressions that the show has made into a weekly staple. But it should either say something about the show, or reach some kind of absurdity. In other words, it should have a POINT.

5) It doesn't need to always be "live." Some of the best bits have been the pre-recorded Digital Shorts that Samberg does. But the show stubbornly clings to the idea of "live." Being live might have been impressive in 1975, but it shouldn't be a hindrance to comedy. If you need to pre-record some material to make it funnier, then do it, goddammit.

6) Destroy all recurring characters except for the ones that REALLY work (The Barry Gibb Talk Show, ummmm.....). Warming Glow does a much better job than I could at listing the ones who should have been killed off after one try.

7) The intro should have the guest host actually doing something entertaining, and not just "taking questions from the audience" or talking to a parade of wacky characters from pop culture, or from the guest host's fake past. In other words, stop being lazy. (That could pretty much apply to everything on this list.) The guest hosts should be asked to do a lot more: otherwise they shouldn't be hosting at all (COUGHJanuaryJonesCOUGH). They need more Jon Hamms, more Melissa McCarthys. (And stop asking Timberlake to bail you out.) Get people who are not only popular, but can actually perform. So more Donald Trumps, no more fucking Tom Bradys.

8) Get Seth Myers off "Weekend Update," or at least give him another Amy Poehler to bounce things off of. He doesn't work as the sole anchor. At all. Especially because of his EXACT SAME DELIVERY!, on every punchline. (The same kind of sing-songy finish that you hear from a local on-the-scene news reporter right before they say "Maggie Malone, AC-tion news...." and throw it back to the anchor.) Seth may be a good writer, but he has turned Weekend Update -- which was a highlight when Fey/Fallon were there -- and turned it into the most predictably boring slog in the show.

9) Speaking of Weekend Update, let's lay off the "Here, with a commentary is [bad impression by someone currently in the news]." These impressions are the one that aren't good enough to be in an actual skit. This usually begins with someone wheeling in on a chair and saying "Woooooo!" (I'm looking at you, Keenan.) The formula has gone bad. They need another Norm McDonald, or Dennis Miller (when he was still funny and not a GOP mouthpiece), with topical humor that is not only funny, but actually says something. Don't use it as a repository for all your leftover C-plus material. (Bill Hader's "Stefon" is exempt from this rule.)

10) Speaking of satire and "saying something," this is where SNL has really lost its way. SNL used to be a snapshot of what was going on at the time, and mocking it. Now, it has been left in the dust by Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert, and even Daniel Tosh. Doing impressions is not enough. The impressions should either be dead on, putting the character in an unlikely situation, or should be something exposing the ridiculousness of a situation. In 1992, SNL was named the "Entertainer of the Year" by Entertainment Weekly magazine, because of how they helped shape much of the national dialogue of that year's presidential race.(Forget for a second, that EW's "Entertainer of the Year" award is specious at best, with such timeless performers as Ricky Martin, the cast of Grey's Anatomy, and Taylor Swift winning.) Can you imagine THIS crop of SNLers getting that award? For what? For Gilly? For satirizing Elizabeth Hasselbeck? What is the last culturally poignant skit they've had?

11) Finally, kill the skits that go absolutely nowhere and have nothing to say. Especially when they aren't especially funny. You know the type I mean: you see the skit coming to an end, and then realize it isn't going to have a punchline. It fizzles out, the camera pans back, and it goes to commercial. If your skit isn't going to shine some light on something hypocritical, or at least make humor out of something ridiculous, then cut it. We live in times that need humor to act as a spotlight on the danger, hypocrisy and insanity we see in the world. SNL simply hasn't had the chops to do so. It shouldn't be that way.

Am I a comedy writer? NO. Not in any way. But even I know that, when in doubt, you make the small big, and the big small. The Onion does this better than anyone. It's actually kind of a simple formula. You take a huge event and boil it down to some mundane detail; or you take an insignificant issue and magnify it. It's not that fucking hard. I need a job; hire me as a writer on that show and I'll crank out 10 or so good sketches in one season (which would be a single-season record for the last decade).

When I was a kid, I used to ask my mom if I could stay up to watch SNL, in the days of Christopher Guest, Martin Short, Billy Crystal and, well, Jim Belushi. I then get into the 1986-and-beyond cast of Dana Carvey, Phil Hartman, Jan Hooks, etc., and they were a criminally underrated cast of performers and of writers. Had Will Ferrell not come around, the show might have been cancelled, and rightfully so.

The show can and should be a showcase for brilliant young writers. They should let these writers go for a full season, even if with the current cast (minus Keenan, of course). There is no reason that SNL can't reinvent itself, as it has so many times, and become, once again, the rapier of American comedy.

But I'll believe it when I see it.

Kill the Penny!

In 2010, it costs about $0.0167 to make a penny.

The question is this: why in God's name are we still making pennies? At that rate of return, don't you think it's about time we just stop making them?

The government is constantly trying to save money; why not start here? If we are saving 67 cents for every penny we DON'T create, isn't that going to be a financial windfall, given the number of pennies created each year? If the number of pennies we make are in the 1-2 billion range, how much would we be saving by not making them?

I'm not saying we have to stop making them altogether, but maybe take 2011 off and see how it goes?

Have you ever run out of pennies? Ever? Have you ever needed pennies and not been able to find any? Do you ever look in your pocket and say, "I wish I had more pennies"?

Of course not, because they are everywhere. Getting pennies back is like jury duty: it's great in theory but it's just annoying when it finally comes your way.

It costs so much to make a penny because it has become so devalued. It's not worth much now, and it wasn't worth much 20 years ago. What makes you think it's going to be worth ANYTHING 20 years from now?

Why don't we slowly start phasing the penny out? (I'm obviously not the first person to come up with this idea.) Instead of getting pennies back, you can get a 1cent postage stamp, or a stick of gum, or a thumbtack or a band-aid or SOMETHING.

Most banks don't even accept rolls of pennies anymore. How is that even legal?

I'd even be willing to compromise with a 2-cent piece. You can even keep Lincoln's face on it. I'm guessing that most people wouldn't mind getting only $0.02 back in change when they are owed $0.03. That is how worthless the penny has become in our current currency.

Show me one real world item that is worth a penny. One practical equivalent that you could purchase for a penny.

That's right, there isn't one. We don't have penny candies anymore. Hell, I get annoyed by nickels, pennies are five times more annoying.

The worst part of this is that with all these pennies scattered across the globe -- and so many of those forgotten, lost or discarded -- we are probably losing millions of dollars a year in couch cushions alone. It is cluttering up an already cluttered world, and for what. So if you can accumulate five of them you can almost have enough for a small coffee creamer?

Just get rid of the damn thing. It's about time.

16 is Greater Than 18

All right I haven't put up a blog in a while, and it's a really stupid topic to make my triumphant return, but I'm starting to worry about the NFL.

Sure they are currently the #1 sport in the nation -- in terms of popularity, quality gameplay, parity and any other metric you want to use (this point is inarguable so don't even attempt it) -- but they are doing everything they can do kill the proverbial golden goose.

I could cite the fact that they black out a team with a large stadium and a tiny market (Buffalo: 3rd smallest market, 7th largest stadium) for non-sellout games, but don't prorate to take into account smaller stadiums with bigger markets (Chicago: third largest market, smallest stadium).

I could cite their not allowing two double-headers.

I could cite their ridiculous rule of only allowing 30 seconds of an interview for broadcast a few years ago. Or the fact that one network couldn't show another network's highlights while a game was still in progress. (Are you really trying to tell me that the league is trying to avoid saturation????)

I could cite the fact that there might be a lockout in 2011, and that certain owners (see: Jones, Jerry; Snyder, Daniel) are trying to circumvent the revenue-sharing that made the league the greatest sports league in the world in the first place.

I do worry about all of these things. They seem to portend pride before the fall. Baseball, boxing and horse-racing were the three most popular sports in the year 1900, and they are all laughingstock now. (Yes, I said they are ALL a laughingstock.)

But the thing that worries me the most is the idea that the league is thinking of changing the number of games in a given year from 16 to 18. This would a be a colossal mistake, and a possible sea-change in the future of the league.

Let's start with this: if they go to 18 games, they will never -- EVER -- go back. It will be permanent. And it will be horrible. And for me it has nothing to do with more injuries or not allowing rookies to make the team.

The league switched to a 16-game schedule in 1978, and it's no coincidence that it matches exactly to the point at which football started leaving basketball in the dust in terms of popularity.

16 games is absolutely perfect, and the reason it is perfect is that football is a game of fours.

What the hell am I talking about? Well, think of it this way: baseball is a games of threes and nines. Three outs, three strikes, three bases (plus home plate); nine players on each team, nine innings. Those numbers really do speak to the history and symmetry of baseball. They are the essence of why the game works and carries such tradition. It's why people like Billy Beane compare players from 1908 to players from 2008.

When the NFL switched to 16 games, it found its perfect number. Football is a game of fours. Four downs, four quarters, four divisions in each conference, four teams in each division. Sixteen games is four times four: most coaches split each season into four "quarters" of four games each to gauge their success. Even the 100-yard field can be split into four "quarters" of 25 yards each for offensive strategies.

And unlike any other sport in America, you can spit out a record to give an immediate shorthand of how good a team is. They are a 2-14 team, a 7-9 team, a 12-4 team, or a 14-2 team. (In the Patriots' case, they were a 18-1 team, but that's a different story.)

You won't hear anyone saying "I think the Twins will be a 91-71 team this year."

We all know about 16, and I'll bet it helps many of us with our math. We know the shorthand, let's stop the prospect of a team going 9-9, or 16-2. Or 4-14.

It doesn't sound right!

They always say that no sports organization is better than the NFL at improving its product and reducing flaws. This has always been true, but now they are becoming too clever by half. I know that an extra two games would add some extra revenue, but it's a permanent solution to a temporary problem (ie. the recession).

When the NFL switched the playoff format to allow 12 teams for the 1990 season, it was absolutely the right move. 10 was too few, 14 was too many. Twelve is perfect: it leaves good teams out of the playoffs, only allowing the VERY good ones in (in theory anyway). In that way it distinguished itself from Baseball (who only allowed 2 per league at the time, and only 4 per league today), as well as hockey and basketball (in which more teams make the playoffs than miss them).

Let's not forget that in 1993, the league experimented with an 18-week schedule (16 games for each team with two bye weeks). It was such a disaster, and so disruptive -- to teams' routines and fans' viewing habits -- that it was scrapped after only one season. Unless the league wants 2011 to look like the strike-shortened season of 1987 (ie. all f'd up) where they only played 15 games, they need to leave a good thing alone.

Eighteen games is a cash-grab, no more. It doesn't improve the product. It doesn't give two welcome extra weeks. (We are always geeked for the playoffs to start.) And there is no upside. It's going to provide for more sellouts, maybe, but also more blackouts for struggling teams. It's not for the fans, it's for the separation of loyal fans and their money.

If 18 wasn't good enough for a legal drinking age, it sure as shit isn't good enough for the League.

Record Stores are Relics

I have just over 1500 albums by my count, and though they weren't all purchased on CD or cassette, thousands -- if not tens of thousands -- of dollars of them were. Record stores became both a Mecca and a sanctuary for me in my younger life. My buddy Cialini and I went to Camelot Records in Eastview Mall every Saturday for the better part of a year to blow the bulk of our paychecks on the new music that was coming out that week -- as well as bricks of blank tapes for "dubbing" purposes. It didn't take Cialini and I long to amass a pretty huge collection of rap and hip hop albums of the early 1990s.

More than just being a place of commerce, record stores have always been a place of discovery for me. I have to admit, I've never been one of these DJ Shadow-type characters, going into the "back room" where the obscure vinyl was. But that didn't make my record store discoveries any less revelatory. Back in the days before the internets, there were no reviews online to tell you whether an album was going to suck or not. You had to either get The Source or RapPages to get the scoop. (Ironically, having only a couple of voices rather than thousands of them tended to lend more clarity than modern online criticism does.) But if you got to the record store and that month's issue of The Source hadn't come out yet, you were going on blind faith.

I would buy albums sometimes for no particular reason. I remember buying Stetsasonic's "In Full Gear" album because I thought the cover looked kinda cool. Ditto Grand Daddy I.U.'s "Smooth Assassin." I bought Lord Finesse's "Return of the Funky Man" because of a video I had seen once on MTV and liked; ditto Spice-1's "Spice-1" (a very bad album with one very good song). Record stores were not a safe place to take chances back then ... but that is what made every surprisingly good album such a great victory.

Back then I was a proud cassette man, partially because I found their analog pedigree more reliable than the fickle digital format, but also because I am a cheapskate and CDs were more expensive. Besides, I didn't have a Bose stereo or anything, so I didn't need CD-quality anything for the most part. By buying tapes, I could more quickly build up an arsenal of music that would later become the envy of a few of my friends. (This was the embryonic stage of a possibly self-destructive "ticker" mentality that has permeated into other avenues of my life and turned me from someone seeking pleasure in life to someone collecting the most shit.) There was almost nothing better than suddenly seeing an album that you had been mulling over buying for months in the bargain bin for like $1.99. I remember once I came home from the mall $80 lighter, but with 13 new albums.

I would quite literally quantify my paycheck in terms of how many tapes I could buy with it. I kid you not. I bought almost nothing else.

After college, I made it my mission to visit every single solitary record store in Rochester, New York, just because I loved going to them so much. I made quite a dent too, and spent hours upon hours sitting at vinyl listening stations and thumbing through stacks of CDs and tapes.

I used to go to Soundgarden in Syracuse, NY about once very two weeks, and I would drop between $30 to $50 on every single transaction. (I am physically and genetically incapable of buying only one CD.)

So with these qualifications in mind, please hear me out when I say this...

There is little need for record stores right now.

Now before all my record store employees and crate-diggers get mad, let me explain. I'm not saying that there WILL never be a need for record stores again, but right now, anyone with a computer can get any album they want for $9.99 on iTunes and the cost of a blank CD. (Some can get them even cheaper, if they know where to look. Wink wink.) The biggest problem is that while record stores are still a wonderful place to spend an hour looking through CDs, they are not practical in their current incarnation.

First of all, the staff at many record stores are assholes. I hate to say it, but it's true, and this is one place where it permeates both the mom-and-pop shops or the big box stores. At the mom-and-pop shops, the counter jockeys are aloof, too-cool-for-the-room hipster assholes who think they are Jack Black in High Fidelity. (This is a broad generalization, I know, but you know I'm not wrong.) They stare at their clipboard or their cell phone, and when you say "excuse me" to ask for help, they say, "What's up" in a tone that really means "this better be important."

The Best Buys and Circuit Citys of the world are hardly better. They may be slightly more friendly, but they generally know jackshit about the music they are selling. And at any one of these places, when you check out, they don't say "thank you" or "have a great day." They usually say "yuuup" as they dismissively hand you a receipt while looking the other way.

These oversights are simply stupid for the music industry. If a consumer can eliminate the annoying human interaction (yecch) that was inherent to purchases pre-1995, why wouldn't they? Why would I want to deal with some patchouli-smelling shitbag with a bad haircut when I can get the exact product -- the EXACT SAME PRODUCT -- online, usually for cheaper. I don't have to drive anywhere, I don't have to pay postage as I might if ordering from a catalog, and I don't have to put my pants on.

If anything, you would think that record stores would be bending over backward to make the customer experience more enjoyable for their patrons. You would think that they would employ armchair music experts who could not only point you to the album you want, but suggest one or two others as well. You would think that with download technology eclipsing their raison d'etre, they would find other innovative ways of dealing out the goods, much like other brick-and-mortar retailers have done with other products.

But the music industry has never been smart about catering to their customers. They have seen an unconscionable drop in sales, not (just) because the music of today stinks, but because they are not offering any more-attractive alternative. The entire idea of capitalism is that, if someone is willing to sell for cheaper, you go to them. Period, end of story. The Recording Industry has tried to litigate people into buying their wares, at exorbitantly marked-up prices.

And to me, this is the crux of why record stores are failing: they are following an old model, and relying on litigation and fear of prosecution to keep them competitive. (You know, in lieu of actually improving the attractiveness of their product.)

I think it's great that they are having "Record Store Day" tomorrow (April 17), and I may try and get out to a couple of record stores to show some support and buy some new tunes. (I have bought two CDs in the last two years, both by mail. I have downloaded dozens.)

But record stores are not going to recover until they drop their prices.

The bottom line is that with iTunes selling most albums for $9.99, along with the convenience of not having to go anywhere, record stores simply cannot compete. It is strictly impossible. But the price of CDs has not gone down significantly. Yes, it may be $8.99 now instead of $11.99, but that's a drop in the bucket.

When any new technology ages, the price naturally drops. It happened with the VCR, DVDs and players, TVs, computers... you name it. I remember when blank CDs were $1 per disc: now you can get a 100-pack for $15 if you know where to get them. It's natural evolution, and it's the way that inflation balances itself to some degree. But record stores have never received this proverbial memo.

Instead, you still have FYE stores selling CDs for $17!! Seventeen American dollars for a mass-produced piece of plastic that probably cost fourteen cents to make. This is the greed of the industry. Everyone's gotta make a living and make a profit, but this borders on extortion.

Think of music in opposition to the video industry. The video/DVD industry has a model: pay a small fee to watch one time or rent for a small window of time, and pay a larger fee if you want to keep it. There is a certain level of concession made by both parties in this transaction. If you only want to keep it for 3 days, it's $5; if you want to own it forever, it's $15. Simple. If you don't like the movie you rented, well it was only $5 to find that out; if you want to own it, here is a modest increase in the price, and you can watch it whenever.

The record industry has no such model. Unless you're in the library, you can't borrow a CD for $3 and then bring it back. Home recording equipment made that impossible. Why not, I'm not sure; renting didn't cripple the VHS market in the '80s and '90s, and illegal recording capabilities existed then too.

So what you have is a monolithic record industry who is not only unwilling to bend on pricing to meet market demand, but actually actively price-GOUGING. It's no wonder that the record industry has no goodwill with the buying public. They expect you to pay 5-6 times more than you should be paying, and that's with risking buying a crappy product! And all this for an unknown commodity you can't even rent ahead of time to see if you'll like it!

My solution: every record store should go the Fugazi route and sell every single album for $5.99 or less. You are still making a profit, you are underselling iTunes (by a lot, I might add), and you are bringing people into the record stores, where their eye might be drawn to another album they wanted. Oh and another one, oh and that one! They could walk out of your record store with four albums for under $25 ... instead of possibly one for $17.

You are also encouraging people to take chances on buying more music, and therefore broadening their scope to possibly purchase other music they might not have otherwise given a shot. If I know I only have to pay $6 for an album instead of $13, I'm going to take way more of a chance on trying something new that I might not have before. Good for company, good for consumer.

Again, the record companies are still making a profit, and I'm still walking away with a shit-ton of tunes.

Naturally, this will never happen, because the myopic, short-sighted music industry wants to squeeze every fucking penny they can out of you. They are not interested in creating a diverse culture of music experts, but rather of maximizing their profit-margin. What they don't realize is that if they would just ease up on their greed for a short period of time, they would probably get back on their feet.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get in my car, drive downtown, find a place to park, pay $14 for a CD that I can't listen to beforehand, and spend 25 minutes trying to get the goddamn plastic off.

Video Store Memory

I don't know why I just thought of this, but there was an incident that happened to me at an old job, and it still bothers me to this day. I don't know why I can't let things like this go, but there was something about it that still infuriates me. It might be one of the reasons I hate people as a whole.

I was working at a video store -- this was about 1999 or so, when they still had VHS tapes -- and we had a program with our popular new releases that if we didn't certain titles in stock, we'd give you a coupon for a freebie for next time. This usually applied toward big-name movies, or "Blockbuster" titles, if you will.

One night was especially busy, and we were all out of one movie, and so we were handing out coupons left and right. (I don't even the remember the movie, which I should if I'm going to continue harboring resentment toward the incident.)

We did keep a small stockpile of these movies behind the counter, because we found out that people were coming around with no intention of renting the movie in question, just to get the free coupon. There was nothing more priceless than having some asshole come up to the counter saying, "You don't have any copies of ________, so I'll take a coupon." I would say, "Well actually, it's your lucky day!" and then produce a copy of the movie. More than a few times, the person would say, "Oh, no never mind," and I would leave a comment on their account not to give them any coupons or refund them any late fees for trying to scam. Ah, the good old days.

So anyway, this one guy comes up to get a coupon, and so I gave one. We were completely out of copies, even our backups. The kid didn't look like white trash: he was relatively well-dressed, nice-looking enough (no homo) and if I didn't know better I would have assumed he was not a piece of shit.

I gave him a coupon and dated it one month later to the day, which was the policy. Since we were so busy, I forgot about the kid and started ringing up other customers. The video store I used to work at did a ton of business, and Friday nights were often out the door.

About ten minutes later, the kid to whom I had just given the coupon for the freebie (to be redeemed at a later time) came up with the movie that we had been out of, and so he plopped that and the coupon on the counter, smiling a sketchy little smile as if to say, "Give my my free movie, bitch."

I was pissed for two reasons:

1) It turns out that this sonofabitch went into our "Employees Only" video drop box and found the movie he was looking for. (We didn't have a lock on it, and at this store it was out on the floor, not behind the counter.) He went into an Employees-only space, like a selfish hunk of shit, and just took what he wanted. Make no mistake, this was a violation. Since I had already given him the coupon -- and didn't wait until he left the store as I had been instructed to do by my manager -- I had no recourse. And the reason I had no recourse was ...

2) ...because I never put a date range on the ticket. I gave an end-date, but I never gave a beginning date. (From this point forward I would always put the next day's date on the ticket.) I still don't know whether I was furious at myself or at the scheming piece of trash who did this.

The worst part is, I'm sure he doesn't remember the incident. Even worse, I couldn't pick him out of a lineup, which means the odds of me identifying him well enough to punch him in the testicles gets slimmer by the day.