Duchamp's Fountain

One of my colleagues has a charm bracelet that she wears sometimes... I think I noticed it especially because it is the kind of thing that doesn't seem to have any male equivalent. I think that, usually, there is a kind of parallel that men and women have:

Woman: has a child; loves her child
Man: has a car; wouldn't use the word "love", but it's his car

Okay, I can't think of any more, but there probably are some. Let's not get stuck on the details.

It makes for a certain order in the universe. But I couldn't think of the male parallel to a charm bracelet. I think that if we had one, it might be more like a tee shirt with hieroglyphs. Women's charm bracelets (not that I've had a ton of exposure to them) seem to me to usually be filled with things like pictures of their children, tea pots, little dogs, and so on.

Not really my thing.

If I got a tee shirt, I'm not sure what all it would have, but I do know one thing: a urinal.

This is one of the most comforting things in the world for me, for a couple of reasons. First of all, it means that I don't have to worry about sitting down to pee. And to those of you who don't really have this option, that might not seem like a big thing, but let me just tell you - it is. I'm not exactly sure why. I just know that it's so. But the other reason is even bigger.

Have you ever been to a place where they have felt the need to be clever with designating which washroom (that's "bathroom" for you Americans and "toilet" for the Europeans) is which? It's like naming your children as if you're a rock star (Moon Unit? Dweezil? Come on, Frank!); just because you can doesn't mean you should.

I know they're trying to make it just a little more interesting, but honestly, when I'm looking for a place to pee, interesting is not really what I'm in the market for. I want quick, and I want certain. I don't want pictures, don't want other languages, don't want anything clever at all. I want to know which door to go in through, and which door is just going to be a problem. I don't want "Beagles" and "Spaniels" or "Cops" and "Robbers" or "Cagney" and "Lacey"... I want "Men" and "Women".

But no matter what it says on the door, there is no feeling of security quite like opening up that door and seeing those urinals. It's not that they are particularly pretty - they just tell me that I'm safe. That no one is going to see me, scream, and shriek "you shouldn't be in here!". Or, if they do, it will have to be for a whole different set of reasons.

Yeah, I'm not sure exactly what else would be on the shirt, but I have a pretty good hunch that is not going to find its way onto a charm bracelet any time soon.

It's a good start. And yeah... it's good to be a man.

Back In Black

So I was listening to a little AC/DC while walking to work today. It's not my usual thing, but I do enjoy them on occasion.

I've talked before about how different songs are good for walking. Well, those of you who know me know that aggressive is probably not the first word you would use to describe me. I get "intense" sometimes (almost as often as I get "laid-back", oddly enough), but I don't think I have ever been called aggressive. But when this song comes on... man, stay out of my way. It's a good, good tune to strut to, and makes me feel rather unstoppable.

And I've been thinking, too, about black shirts. I have a couple that I really love, beside the standard mass of black concert tees and the fitted black tees that are de rigeur under a sweater or jacket most days. Both collared and long-sleeved, one is a fairly traditional dress shirt, the other is more synthetic-y but still good... open collar and it just drapes really, really well. I think I have gotten more compliments in those two shirts than I have in any others I own.

Well, when I wear those shirts, I also feel pretty unbeatable. When I go into a meeting wearing black, there is no question which way it's going to go. It's not even a matter of time - I'm ready to drive, and we're going to go. Now.

It led me to wonder... what would happen if I tried, at some point, to wear the black shirt while actually listening to Back In Black? I can see it leading to trouble... or getting me elected president of something. Could easily go either way.... I may have to give that a shot.

More Girly Stuff

Well, tonight it was Pink, Who Knew.

I've never been a huge fan of hers... she has seemed just a little too much in the past, with the tough-girl image and the whole "I'm a pop star who's not a pop star" thing, but I was in the mood to play this one tonight, and it just hauled. The verses are a bit plain and the bridge is actually disturbingly weak, but that chorus....

Wow.

And especially in the last one when she kicks it up a notch and goes high... I got outvoted for whether or not this tune suits having male backing vocals, but I'm just going to have to push the mic aside and sing my heart out - there's no way to let that chorus go by on its own. And really - I couldn't care less if no one else can hear me.

And it makes me just ache to play my acoustic kit... to have those high hats open and creating this wall of sound, huge and resonant... the kick drum feeling like a punch in the stomach... my piccolo snare ringing out and cutting through the rest of the music like a bell... wow, I miss it.

I'm not a guy who's really prone to aggression I don't usually like loud noises. But there is something about laying into a snare drum until it feels like it's going to rip your face off that just can't be compared to anything else. If you ever get the chance, I highly suggest that you try it. Of course, not everyone may have the same reaction I do to it, but who knows? Maybe you will.

Finally

I finally won at poker again. I think it's been about 3 years since I finished in top spot at one of our little tournaments. Thankfully, we play for less than that cost of a movie, I'm usually pretty fully engaged in either getting the next pizza out, chair-dancing and singing along to whatever is playing, and trying to join in on the conversation at the other end of the table to notice. Oh yeah, and dealing. So it doesn't really bother me - I always have a great time. Every time.

But it's nice to win, too. And I met some really great friends-of-friends, got to spend a nice, relaxed evening with people I love to have time with... it was great, even if someone who will remain unnamed decided it would be a good idea to put on Simon and Garfunkel and then play along with it on the little chick's piano. In retrospect, it was maybe not the direction we should have gone. And, of all people, I should have known better. But I was actually concentrating this time, which may be somehow linked to the whole winning thing. But I'm not jumping to any conclusions.

And the best part is that, until my title is taken from me, I can, in Brian's tradition, sign all of my emails (and perhaps legal documents - still looking into that) as "The King". And since I host, I can put off the next one for a long, long time.

I won't, but I could.


Going to sleep now,
The King

Shopping Lists And Putting On Chains

It's interesting seeing what people buy, and I'm always intrigued to see who's got what in the checkout line. I've had some good combinations before, but I think tonights was not too bad.

2 leeks (large)
2 boxes of Pim's chocolate/raspberry cookies
1 bottle of red wine

Now, I think that while the Pim's and the wine may be pretty predictable (if you haven't had these cookies... well, you need to), but the leeks add a lot. First, as a man buying unprepared vegetables, I think that puts me into a pretty special category to start with. But then, leeks are not like peas or lettuce or something that you just wash or steam and serve. They have a bit of mystery to them, and indicate a bit more intention. I like that.

Also worth noting is that I learned how to put the snow chains on my tires this weekend. We were in the mountains, and while the roads were bare and dry on Friday, there was a pretty reasonable amount of snow that fell Saturday and Sunday before we left.

I have often been sad that, as far as I can tell, a lot of the stereotypical male abilities that reach back generations in my family may well die with my dad (which is hopefully not soon). Neither of my brothers or I show much of an inclination towards being able wire our own homes or rebuild an engine. I can put up drywall, but you probably wouldn't want to live in the room after.

So it made me pretty happy to get the chains figured out. I recall pulling them out one other time and, after a few minutes, deciding to just take my chances with the snow. But this time I was determined, and I like that now I know how to get them on. So, the future of Delamont men is perhaps not all without hope.

More reflections on the weekend to come soon, I promise...

The Eye Of The Tiger

I played poker tonight. I lost, as usual. I had a wonderful time, as usual. It makes me wonder why I lose... and lose... and lose.... and why I still don't care?

1. I love to be with my friends and to talk to them. When I have to choose between paying attention to a conversation with a friend or really giving my focus to the game to try and read the people around me, calculate odds, remember when it's my turn (you know, tricky stuff), there's no question. Talk to me.

2. I like the music. A lot. Yeah, once it's on, I can't help it... I want to sing, I want to dance (even if just in my chair). I don't really want to but seem unable to do anything but make "drummer face" in the cool parts. It may rob me - slightly - of my ability to focus. Or to do anything other than breath and, occasionally, swallow. Oh well.

3. I like my friends to be happy. I'm not going to tell you I try to lose, but... well, I don't like taking people out, and I have, in the final two, played very, very sloppy poker. I mean, if I don't care, and the other person would really like to win, I think it may be better for everyone. Does that make me an unethical poker player?

So, here's my action plan for improving my winning percentage:

1. Invite people I don't like. No risk of conversation that way, plus I won't care if I eliminate them. I might even like it! Two birds in the bush with one stone, as it were.

2. Ban music. Except maybe techno, so I wouldn't be tempted to sing along, though it may result in me throwing someone out the window before the evening was drawing to a natural conclusion.

3. Play for really big stakes. I mean, maybe if I needed the money to make my next rent payment, I would try harder.

4. Pull back on the pizza thing and introduce more beet root-based dishes. I think this one is self-explanatory.

Yeah, that sounds like the ticket. I already have trouble with the invitation list because I have way more people I want to invite than space at a single-table game, so inviting people I don't like would really clear up that whole dilemma for me as well. So, if you get an invitation to the next game... please don't take it personally. Just bring your rent money and be prepared for DJ Bobo and total annihilation poker, Darryl-style. Yeah, baby!