Strange Places Strange Faces

Rarified Air

2006-12-12T18:40:00.000-05:00

It is a crisp autumnal day here in Cleveland, just 10 days away from the beginning of winter. Convertible drivers are taking their tops down, kids got away with shorts (or at least some cool clothing), fall leaves could have risen back to their trees. Ah, the sheer delight of 60 in December. The holidays are fast approaching and, in the slick 'snow belt' of America, it's difficult to imagine life without a white Christmas or Hanukah, for that matter. But, all signs point to bright, sunshiny days. That doesn't mean Old Man Winter won't come roaring through in a couple weeks, it just means he has been mostly dormant this time of year. Last year, this time, we watched temperatures dip close to 10 degrees if not cooler. The lowest I can remember this year is about 18 degrees -- a virtual heat wave versus that 10. The bigger question, though, is why should I care? I grew up in this climate. I have suffered for years. I even went to school in Ithaca where finals were once postponed a week because of the white stuff. I lived through a 'white out' in Philly (a joke compared to our 'white outs' here). My only escape was the six or so years I spent soaking in the sun and sands of South Florida. So, the answer to my hypothetical question becomes this: I do care. I would be lying if I told you otherwise. I hate the cold air and the snow. It sucks the wind out of me -- in effect shoving me into lifeless seasonal affective disorder. But, not even drugs can solve that slump. In the end, I just have to grin and bear it. I have to remember how much fun it was making snowmen and having snowball fights during a game of 'King of the Mountain'. I have to accept the fact that -- very soon -- this will be the recurrent climate of my life -- cold, snowy with a huge chance for sunshine.

New Wisdom I Am Happy to Share

2006-11-24T17:48:00.000-05:00

Special Thanks to AskMoses.com, a website I suggest for people of all denominations.

"Dealing with failure can be compared to jumping on a pogo stick. The harder you fall, the higher you bounce."

"Happiness is not an absence of problems, but the ability to deal with them."

"'Enjoy what you do, and you'll never work another day in your life.'"

"Failure may be the step you take before reaching success. Fear of failure will never let you get there."

"People with special needs reveal what is special in us."

"No good deed is too small to count and none too great to accomplish."

"Depression is a ploy instigated by the self-destructive elements within us. Once depressed, a person could do anything."

"Hope -- is when there's some glimmer of chance. Trust in G-d -- is even when there's noting left to hope for."

"Someone made a choice to harm you? Don't get angry, it's his problem. That it happened to YOU -- is between you and G-d."

"There's always hope -- even when you mess up, since you will always be exactly as G-d has planned at the outset of creation."

"Any voice holding you back from moving forward -- however justified -- is a voice of destruction and decay, not of growth and life."

Quotes That Make You Think Hard

2006-10-15T10:53:00.000-04:00

I hope these things intrigue and help you as much as they have me.

1. "No need to worry. Get reliable advice. Make decisions. Be confident that G-d will support them." -- AskMoses.com

2. "Depression constricts the flow of blessing from above. When we rejoice, higher worlds shine upon us in full glory." -- AsMoses.com

3. "There was a time when people did not have careers. People did not live to acquire material wealth." -- AskMoses.com

4. "When G-d sees that you trust in Him to make it good, He will make it good." -- AskMoses.com

5. "Love is an action verb." -- sign outside of a church I just passed by (and the subject of my next blog entry)

6. "We don't love the people we love just because they're perfect, we just love." -- ABC's "Brothers and Sisters" (and the subject of another blog this week)

Catching Liars

2006-09-20T17:44:00.000-04:00

Many of you have asked me here and on Dude Deciphering about guys who cheat and lie. I was just sent this article from WebMD called How to Catch a Liar. It's an interesting Top 10 ways on how you can trap that liar from Day One. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Nigel Gets a New Computer

2006-09-17T17:31:00.000-04:00

'bout time. The blog should be back and in full-throttle again since my poor old Sony VAIO has been replaced by an m7500y HP. Amongst other things, my new computer TiVo's. So, you can be sure I'll spend a lot of time near it. Also, it has a faster response time to my 'hunting and pecking' ways on the keyboard... no longer a 'finger jam'. Anyway, it's all good, and I hope it's all good for you, too. More Nigel, more of the time.

Drive-Thru Fuck Buddies

2006-09-10T23:46:00.000-04:00

Just the title of this post should be enough to grab your attention. I was speaking to my friend the other night. He has this 'friend with benefits'. He loves the benefits but he pretty much can't stand the friend. So, he does his thing... but he makes sure it is over in a matter of minutes, if not seconds. Yeah, he'll take care of her if he has to, but he is more prone to taking care of himself. It made me wonder if the whole concept of F Buddies is really worth it. Who are we kidding anyway? A get-on 'get-OFF' romp that is unenjoyable and last for just a few minutes. Admittedly, I'd maim for one of those right now, but for what price? I'd be labeled unemotional and 'quick'. The sex would suck for both of us. I know it would be like hitting the bottom of the barrel. I know it would drive me wild. That's why 'Drive-thru F Buddies' seems to be the most applicable term here, where I can get-in and get-out.. without worrying about anything but a small price in between.

Women Love When You Notice Their Kids

2006-09-09T18:48:00.000-04:00

Women love when you notice their kids, just like I love when people notice Ike. They love the way you might play peek-a-boo with said children. They love compliments about how cute their kid is or how well-behaved they are. Basically, they loved being doted upon because it makes them feel better about the world in general. I should know a lot about this because I am a kid complimenter. I don't know if it's a self-esteem issue or just a moment where I provide happiness and comfort, but whatever the deal -- I always end up on top with a 'Thank You' or a compliment in return.

Lip Kissers

2006-09-08T23:16:00.000-04:00

Lip Kissers.

Do you have relatives or friends who just love to kiss you on the lips? Even when you throw your cheek their way, they somehow manage a way to find your lips. It still takes me by surprise most of the time. I don't the understated intimacy of the whole thing, and I don't ever think I could be a 'Lip Kisser' myself.

A Dating Dilemma

2006-09-07T22:40:00.000-04:00

Dating Dilemma: Online romance ends up being 450+ miles away, or 100 miles away or 2000 miles away. This always happens. Why does this always happen to me? I end up meeting a great girl online, and she always ends up being so far away. Why do I find it easy to find women miles away, but no one in my own backyard? Does it mean there are no women left here in Cleveland for me, or does it mean it's just easier for me to attract, maintain and enjoy relationships at a distance? Either way, it's screwed up, and either way I allow it to happen again and again. Maybe it is easier to like someone from a distance, but is it fair to allow yourself to like them so much that you are sabotaging both of you? It's hard to maintain any type of long-distance relationship, especially where it starts out on the phone for endless nights. A what point do you just pull the trigger and quit talking? Do you maintain the friendship? Or, do you go meet the person? If you meet each other and click, then what happens? The logical step is to end up in the same place, but is that easily achievable? This dating dilemma is a huge mess, and one that -- for me -- isn't likely to go away soon anyway.

I'm Going Gray

2006-09-06T17:19:00.000-04:00

My mirror keeps on changing on me like those funky mirrors at a funhouse. Only this is not a funhouse, and the mirror's changes aren't a figment of my imagination. My dark brown lots, always It's subject of great conversation -- as they are so full and wavy -- are turning gray. My brown is turning to salt and pepper and there isn't a thing I can do about it. Hell, some people might suggest I color it. But, that's bullshit. I'd rather see it go all gray in one night than color it. In fact, I think it's kind of cool. It gives me a certain look of maturation that I wouldn't otherwise have. It says, "I am living the life." Or something like that. I'd like to suggest that gray is becoming the new bleach blond. I'm dying to see it fill in. Right now, it seems to be in pieces-parts with no real direction of its own. It's spotty. It's suspect. It's deceiving. It's inviting. It's all of these in one. So I say,

Hooray for Gray.
I can't wait to see you
fill in some day.

What Is Labor Day, Anyway?

2006-09-04T23:22:00.000-04:00

Labor Day, for those of us in the United States, has become a total crock of shit if you ask me. My Mother worked today because the mall was open. Half of the restaurants in the city were open. Drugstores changed their hours, but remained open. Gas stations -- they're open, too. Grocery stores -- open. Movie theatres -- open. Car dealerships -- open. Heck, it remains a mystery to me why we have this Labor Day thing anyway. Perhaps it is a day where we truly labor. Look, government workers get the day off. Schools are closed so teachers are off. Aside from these 'lucky laborers', I don't see a point to this holiday other than to stuff ourselves at a merry-go-round of picnics. I thought this Labor Day thing was supposed to be a day of rest and relaxation, but tell it to these workers who -- in effect -- are giving up a holiday to work. Thank goodness for time and a half. A real labor day would involve every one to shut down. Do you know how much that would hurt our economy? One day of everyone walking away from their jobs would literally stifle and devastate the economy. That's why I suggest this day be renamed "Worker Appreciation Day" for those of us who do work and produce on this so-called 'holiday'. It's more appropriate to recognize the American workers who keep the economy as robust as can be during these tough times.

As for me, I spent the day volunteering.... it's not actually labor, but it makes you feel as if you're actually doing something productive on this day. Then again, if it weren't for my labor in volunteering, some things just wouldn't get done.

To that end, I extend my appreciation to all of you who work on this day to make our country a better place to be.

What I Hated About MTV's VMAs

2006-09-02T21:38:00.000-04:00

I hated MTV's Video Music Awards. HATED. I just got to see it on TV, and there really wasn't anything redeeming about it. Jack Black was flat and humorless. The Raconteurs sucked ass as a house band. For whatever reason, New Yorkers couldn't put on the same show that they have in L.A. I didn't know many of the acts, but it didn't matter. I wouldn't have liked their performances anyway. Lil' Kim was one performer, in particular, who sucked. Who the hell is Baby Jane? Justin Timberlake was lackluster as an opening act.... and on and on. Presenters like Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie further devalued this once excellent showcase. By the way, what the hell was Pink drinking or smoking when she accepted her award for 'Stupid Girl'? I can't believe she was even able to get up on stage.

So, what did I actually like? The performance by OK GO was one of the coolest things I have ever seen. Shakira with Wyclef was hot. Sarah Silverman was hysterical, especially the bit she did on Lance Bass. The camera work and effects were cool. The production was average. I guess I would give a 'B' to the Red Carpet crap.

But, overall, what happened to the VMAs? Maybe they went the same way as MTV. Today's MTV should be renamed RTV because it is mostly glorified 'R'eality TV. There is no music involved. So, it only figures that VMAs are hard to find too.

Where Have You Gone, Nigel Vossap?

2006-09-01T18:03:00.000-04:00

So a bunch of fellow bloggers are on my case. They want to know where I've been and what I've been doing. It seems I only published a lame 11 times last month, and many of those posts weren't very Nigel-like. So, where have you gone, Nigel Vossap? It's a question I now have to pose to myself. I can tell you I took a vacation. I can tell you I felt like I didn't have it anymore. I can tell you I was bored. I can tell you any number of things, but the fact of the matter is I got lazy and started to ignore my favorite project in the world -- the one that pretty much relaxes me and gives me more pleasure than anything else (okay, almost anything else). I love writing. I love my Blogger Buddies. My return is prompted, then, by a look at my past. I have reviewed some of the things I have written since I opened shop in April. Some of it is great. Some of it flat-out sucks. But, the best part is I wrote it. They're my words, my thoughts and a diary of the daily events in my life. So, right on and write on! I will go full steam ahead this month, and try to provide you with a little insight and entertainment while I am at it. I promise, also, to visit your blogs again. Special thanks to all my buddies who wrote in and asked about me. Also, look for a new format around the middle of the month. I am working on it as we speak. By the way, how many of you are on the Beta version? I don't want to switch over until I know most of you can read and respond to my new work. Happy Blogging!

Premature Ejaculation

2006-08-23T20:26:00.000-04:00

Now that I have your attention, read all about it in Deciphering Dudes Dot.Com.

Time Passages

2006-08-23T19:50:00.000-04:00

"The only time time is long is when I am trying to sleep."

So sayeth my friend, the building superintendent where I live. He just turned 70 this year and I was asking him about time. My thought is the older we get, the closer we get in age to our older relatives and friends. For example, my oldest first cousin has twelve years on me, but it feels closer to five now when it felt like decades when I was younger. To what do I owe this thought? I am not really sure. Another perfect example is 9/11. 9/11 feels like yesterday because it is so permanently etched in my fabric. It's hard to believe we're coming up on its fifth anniversary. So, I considered my friend's profound quote. I thought about my odd sleeping patterns and the relevancy of his wisdom to my very own life. Some nights I manage to get only a few hours sleep. I have a million things on my mind. I don't know what to do with myself. I am utterly restless. Other nights, I can catch eight hours or more... But, it doesn't seem to matter. My friend, in fact, is right. Our days -- as evidenced by my revelations about 9/11 and my cousin -- go by in a flash. It's only when I sleep that things slow down. It's only when I sleep that I can enjoy (perhaps on a superficial level) the passing of time. During my awaking hours, time flies. They used to say, "Time flies when you're having fun." I'm not sure about that one, but I am sure that time flies. Maybe now is the time we have to consider how precious our hourglasses are, and the fact that we can make as much out of time while we are awake as when we sleep.

Ike Farts

2006-08-21T23:14:00.000-04:00

If there's anything in the world you want to avoid at all costs more than anything else, it's Ike Farts. Ike Farts are the equivalent of bombing Hiroshima. In fact, he doesn't just clear a room, he clears a whole house. Then, he's so proud of himself that he usually sticks his nose back there to smell the damage. Meanwhile, I am putting a wet towel over my face as if to protect myself from pepper spray. I think you guys get the picture.

So, it will come as no surprise to you that the damn dog, who I love more than anything in the world, put me in the most compromising position today. You see, I had to take him to the vet for some bullshit stuff, and I found myself alone in t he waiting room with this really pretty young girl and her cat. The waiting room has two sides, one for cats and one for dogs, but she was on our side anyway. I wasn't sitting down but a few minutes when Ike's stomach roared, and his ass went into action. The SBD (silent but deadly) had been launched. It was nauseating. I didn't know what to do. Fearing the girl would think it was me, I couldn't take any chances.

"Awwww, Ike," I moaned, emphasizing my displeasure with him. "Let's go outside."

By this point, I hope the girl will realize it wasn't me. I take Ike outside and he promptly, matter-of-factly does his business.

When we walk back inside, the girl looks at me as if to shame me. She takes her kitty box and walks to the kitty side of the waiting area. I am completely humiliated, and good old Ike couldn't care less.

The Down and Out Dudes

2006-08-18T08:54:00.000-04:00

It has been a long time since anyone asked the Dudes any questions... However, the traffic to the Blog remains steady. Please encourage your friends to stop on by, ask me a question (anonymously if they want to), and we'll be happy to answer. Otherwise, look for fresh, original material starting every day next week. Happy Blogging Season!

Your friends at Deciphering Dudes Dot.Com

About Dr. J

2006-08-18T08:44:00.000-04:00

SUBTITLE: 'AND I THOUGHT I COULD PUT ONE PAST YOU'

Dr. J was a nice enough woman, I suppose, if only she would have given me a chance to know her better. I got the hint things weren't going anywhere when she snubbed me by not calling the day of David's funeral. She could have at least called that day. My late grandfather was very stern about the old adage 'If you don't have anything nice to say about anybody, don't say anything at all.' I think I'll leave it at that. All this crap leaves several questions unanswered. How can you go out with someone a few times and then they just don't call you again? How do you know what, if anything, you did wrong? Aren't we supposed to try to learn from and/or remedy our mistakes? Isn't 'communication' supposed to be one of the key ingredients to any successful relationship? How can we develop these relationships when one party doesn't even tell the other what he/she did wrong? Is honesty -- especially at the beginning of a relationship -- too much to ask for these days? Just some food for thought on a drizzly Friday here in Cleveland-land.

How Phone Books Taunt Us

2006-08-15T18:35:00.000-04:00

Phone books, like the ones we have 'stored' in our phones can taunt and tantalize every single one of us. I, for one, get so caught up in having names and numbers in my book that I forget to purge old numbers. This reminds me of People Purging, a pastime I am celebrating once again this time of year. The old numbers in my phone book represent ex-girlfriends, the restaurants where we used to go together, work associates I no longer associate with, people I can't even recall and places I want to forget. How's that for a list? So, why do we keep these numbers stored? I think it's a game we play with ourselves to fool ourselves into believing we're more important than we actually are. (Think: He with the most toys wins) If that's so, my delusions of self-grandeur have reached an epoch proportion, and someone has to reign in my damn ego. I have hundreds of names and numbers in my phone, and dozens of names and e-mail addresses in my Hotmail Address Book. What have I done? I am besieged by the people, places and things I once 'coveted'. Alas, I know why I have most of these numbers there. It's the same reason I am a self-proclaimed 'pack rat'. I have to hang on to bits of the past. So, forgive me if I see Dr. J's number in the phone, or the number of the restaurant where I proposed to my ex-fiance, or the number of a building inspector in a city where I no longer do business. These aren't numbers I will likely ever dial again. But, I keep them there to remind me of bits and pieces of my past. For better or worse, those numbers take me to a place and/or time that are part of me. Eventually, as I am doing right now, I purge the numbers. I cleanse myself of the urge to call. I move on. For in the end, the numbers won't do any of us any good anyway if there is nothing or no one important at the end of the line.

Idiot Haiku Friday Volume V

2006-08-11T11:06:00.000-04:00

Hey, y'all bloggers out in Blog-land! It has been two months since our last installment of Haiku Friday. Hell, some of you weren't even born back then. So, without further ado, I present Haiku Friday Volume V;

I blogged about fish,
and an old sweet summer sweat.
Give me some honey.

The girl in the store
wore mittens to evade snow.
I like ice cream cones.

On a starry night,
should I really call her now?
I need a new car.

Haiku gets better
with the spring flowers full bloom.
My baseball team sucks.

I am not kidding..
The dog really ate homework.
I eat octopus.

I have a booger
that dries in the summer sun.
The fat guy sweats loads.

The girl wore a blouse
because she was smoking hot.
I cry in movies.

The dog licks his balls
and rolls in the fucking snow.
Armpit hair smells bad.

My foot is asleep.
My girlfriend is pissed at me.
I mow the green lawn.

Holy mackerel!
caught on a blistering day...
Ugly mole on her!

Does Jesus save me?
or is the autumn divine?
My trainer is nuts.

Who the hell are you?
Do you really like winter?
Where is my phone book?

My ugly girlfriend -
beats yours on a summer day.
I really need love.

Genes vs. Jeans

2006-08-10T22:17:00.000-04:00

I am officially baffled, and I almost feel sorry for you women out there. It seems the fashion industry has really decided that your genes equal your jeans. I was shocked the other day when I walked by Limited Express and saw a jeans display in the window featuring just three sizes this season: skinny, regular and curvy. Skinny jeans? Turns out they're the newest rage in a bunch of different stores/brands. They were written about in today's New York Times. They are the phatest fad out there. So, what about women who can't fit in these 'hip' skinny jeans? I'm told skinny jeans come in all different sizes. Is that to make you feel better if you aren't actually skinny? Plus, if that's the case, and women are just after skinny jeans, why even bother with regular or curvy? This is crazy business. And men are not immune to this whole thing, either. GAP is offering 'slim' jeans to men. Look, guys, I am not that slim these days. Mentally, I'd love to buy 'slim' jeans, but would it really change my body type? Hell no. Exercise and diet are the only real way to change our genes and our jeans these days.

ANOTHER POP QUIZ

2006-08-06T11:28:00.000-04:00

WHAT WOULD IT TAKE FOR ELVIS TO COME BACK? HOW WOULD YOU REACT?

My Best Question Yet?

2006-08-02T17:05:00.000-04:00

Just wondering. If we men get pussy-whipped, what do you women get?

Also, remember to check out my other blog, Deciphering Dudes Dot.Com, for a closer look on how men and women relate to each other -- from this dude's point of view. Updated frequently!

Another Look at Looks...

2006-08-01T23:34:00.000-04:00

Recently, I have asked you about what certain looks mean. For instance, I asked what it meant when a total stranger smiled at you. Now, I have another situation I think most of us can relate to.

How many times do you find yourself stopped in traffic looking at the person next to you? Better yet, how often does that person turn and notice you noticing them? Or, do you ever speed up next to someone to get a closer look? Do you play cool by pretending to be on your phone? Have you ever rolled down your window and tried to talk to a stranger? Have you ever followed someone for an extended period of time just to look at them (okay, so this is called stalking, but I had to ask!)?

In the end, what is it that makes us want to look at all the drivers around us anyway, especially if we hate the way they are driving in the first place?

Birthday Dinner Fun

2006-07-27T23:37:00.000-04:00

For my birthday, we went to this restaurant Dad and I built a couple years ago. We know the owner very well and the food is widely regarded as the best in Cleveland. It's always fun, because the kitchen is open, I know everyone who works there (because I frequent the place), our friend (the owner) is a real stitch and the beat goes on...

Anyway, tonight the restaurant was unusually noisy. There were a few large parties and I was sitting with my parents at a comfortable corner table. The restaurant is quite small, seating about 90 people in our section. It was packed tonight. Anyway, the fun started when I saw this "cute" older couple being shown to their table right next to ours. They were obviously on a date, which is both cool and curious to observe when it involves the "elderly". Their dates are definitely different than ours.... sometimes noble; other times humorous; still other times shocking. You just never know what you are going to see and hear.

Anyway, it was obvious by the way they perused the menu the couple had never been to the restaurant before. The man was definitely annoyed by the din. The woman was seemingly happy to be at this restaurant in his company. She, too, though complained about the noise.

The restaurant is famous for many dishes, not the least of which is a side dish called "pomme frites". Pomme frites are french fries that are freshly cut shoestring potatoes that have been properly seasoned. No grease here. A plate that is stacked so high it almost touches the ceiling. You have to have a table of at least six (honestly) to finish this baby. So, my Mom and Dad ordered it with their dinner, and the lady next to us remarked on how many there were and how good they looked.

My mom asked, "would you like to try some?"

The woman never hesitated. "Yes, if you don't mind."

"No," my mom said. "Go ahead, give me a plate. Here have some."

This thing was getting cuter by the minute. The woman dug in, and nodded her head in approval. Now, the man grabbed some, too. He obviously enjoyed them as well. It was almost as if the magical pomme frites made all the noise in the restaurant go away, as our two tables seemingly merged in to one. The next thing you know, the couple had pilfered our fries (we didn't care), and were devouring them.

Later, they joined my parents in singing Happy Birthday, then returned to the frites, which they ended up taking home!

My mom subsequently unsuccessfully had a conversation stalking (when you start trying to find out stuff from a complete stranger) with the man about his favorite restaurants. I had to assure him she was harmless. However, she did manage to find out the smartly dressed man was 93. His lady friend was much younger. The man didn't really want to say much else, probably because he realized my Mom had eavesdropped on his entire dinner conversation.

But, I have to say, this couple -- strangers to me -- made my Birthday more interesting. I did feel like I had extra people out with me for my special celebration. And, they sang a mean Happy Birthday!

So, how do complete strangers end up in each other's conversations -- especially when sitting next to each other at a restaurant? Are we all that nosy? Or is it that we are all trying to be social and friendly?

Funny Friendship "Pass-it-On" E-mail

2006-07-26T23:59:00.000-04:00

I know, I know... I hate having shit clogging my e-mail box too. But, this one was so perfect I've decided to share it with you. Thanks to Lori D. for this one.

"True" Friendship

None of that Sissy Crap. Are you tired of those sissy "friendship" poems that always sound good, but never actually come close to reality?

Well, here is a series of promises that actually speak of true friendship.

You will see no cutesy little smiley faces on this card-just the stone cold truth of our great friendship.

1. When you are sad -- I will help you get drunk and plot revenge against the sorry bastard who made you sad.

2. When you are blue -- I will try to dislodge whatever is choking you.

3. When you smile -- I will know you finally got laid.

4. When you are scared -- I will rag on you about it every chance I get.

5. When you are worried -- I will tell you horrible stories about how much worse it could be until you quit whining.

6. When you are confused -- I will use little words.

7. When you are sick -- Stay the hell away from me until you are well again. I don't want whatever you have.

8. When you fall -- I will point and laugh at your clumsy ass.

9. This is my oath..... I pledge it to the end. "Why?" you may ask; "because you are my friend".

Send this to 10 of your closest friends, then get depressed because you can only think of 4.

Friendship is like peeing your pants, everyone can see it, but only you can feel the true warmth.

When a Stranger Smiles at You

2006-07-25T00:15:00.000-04:00

Okay. The strangest thing keeps happening to me and I just don't get it. Maybe some of you can help shed some light on the subject. Over the past few weeks, women have smiled at me nearly half a dozen times (no exaggeration) from a distance. Our eyes usually meet, and then they just smile. I think five out of the six were married or had rings on their fingers (seeing as how that's about the first place I look after the smile). Some time ago, I wrote about eye contact being the first form of interpersonal communication. Isn't smiling more powerful? I just can't understand if I look friendly, if there is an attraction (that's too weird), what the deal is... but nevertheless I keep getting soft smiles from the opposite sex. I'm open to any ideas as to what is going on here. Believe me, I like the smiles. It makes me want to go up and introduce myself, but I think that's too much. So, these people remain anonymous, like me, and at a distance... Can you tell me why?

Wedding Etiquette

2006-07-23T23:44:00.000-04:00

I went to the wedding tonight, and by all accounts it was one of the most beautiful events I have ever attended. It was held at the Manor of a several-hundred acre farm here in one of our most exclusive suburbs. I would guess the Manor house is around 80-90 years old, maybe more. The wedding was held in the sunny, hot outdoors, with guests shading themselves by parasols provided by the wedding party. Simply elegant. The ceremony, an interfaith one, was simple, charming and sweet -- with both family and friends taking part.

The bride was breathtaking, and arrived by horse and carriage. The crowd stood as she was escorted by her father down the aisle. This leads me to the subject of today's blog. The gentleman next to me opined, "How come guests stand for the bride and not the groom?"

Immediately, I thought about the potential to address this in the blog. My answer would have been that this remains one of the most traditional elements of the wedding -- an element that the bride has earned and deserves as she moves from one part of her life to the next. It is, in part, chivalrous, akin to holding the door open for a woman, opening the door to your car for her, waiting to sit down as she is seated, etc. This token gesture by wedding guests falls in to the same category.

It is, after all, the bride's wedding. Traditionally, her family is paying for it. She is the center of attention. The day is more hers than his. As a culture, we can acknowledge this by standing for the "lady" as she walks the path to marry the "gentleman".

You see, the man next to me asked a very good question, but he never considered the easiness of the answer.

Good News For Visitors

2006-07-22T23:44:00.000-04:00

Now all visitors can comment on both Nigel Vossap blogs -- Strange Places Strange Faces and Deciphering Dudes Dot.Com Please feel free to chime in at anytime! Thanks for visiting.

Wedding Bells and Balls

2006-07-22T21:21:00.000-04:00

I am scheduled to go to a wedding tomorrow where I'll know almost nobody. The good news is that my parents will be there. The bad news is that my parents will be there. You see, as you know (if you have been following this blog), I have an easy time approaching and meeting people. I have an easy time making conversation. I have an easier time doing it over a little libation. I feel like I have a certain amount of "cool" about me. Call that cocky if you wish, but it's the truth.

So, now I find myself invited to my carpenter's daughter's wedding. It's supposed to be a small affair, so I am particularly humbled to have been invited. However, my humility runs short. My parents don't party as much as I do. My Dad never drinks. My Mom drinks to capacity without going over. They both are jaded. They both think I party like I did in college. So, I feel like I am being babysat at all of these events. Dammit!

Just when I have the balls to have a few drinks, meet a few people and have a damn good time, they have to be there to put a damper on this. Now, I'll have to sneak the drinks, talk the talk and walk the walk on the "down low". I'll have to look over my shoulder and make sure "Big Brother" isn't watching at all times. Now is one of those times where it sucks to be an only child because all of the focus is on me, when I could really use a sibling to take away some of the pressure.

Anyway, I do want to meet people. I do want to have a good time. The wedding is going to be first class, and I just have to remember these monsters (I love) are going to be swarming around me like bees to honey. But, in the end, if I keep my balls down and my chin up, maybe I can meet some people, make some friends, and get wild on the dance floor.

The Dudes Strike Again

2006-07-18T17:17:00.000-04:00

It's time to check out Deciphering Dudes Dot.Com again. It is the only place where you can find honest answers from two guys (okay, so one's a pooch) who used to be players. Now, they set the record straight, giving you an inside look at how men think, feel and play. Aside from advice, the site is going to begin to offer women strong insight on everything from sex to shopping. If you haven't checked it out yet -- and you've prevented your friends from taking a peek -- you are missing out on some great satire and advice about how "dudes" deal with "chicks". We answer all of your questions, and qualm all of your concerns. Visit us now... We appreciate your support.

Remembering Nana Uh-Uh

2006-07-17T00:33:00.000-04:00

NANA UH-UH

OCTOBER 15, 1911 - JULY 17, 1986

A TRIBUTE

I grew up with a great deal of respect for all of my family members. Much of my family pride was bestowed upon me by my four Grandparents -- each of whom had separate talents, but equal positions on how we should operate as a familial unit. I like to think of them as the four pillars which held our families together.

On July 17, 1986, I was beginning the second of three sessions at French Woods Festival of the Performing Arts -- an overnight camp that specialized in theatre, circus performance, singing, dancing and such. Quite suddenly, I was summoned to the office for an "emergency". This was never good. I had been sent to the office numerous times, for numerous infractions, but I swear I hadn't done anything this time.

"We have some bad news for you," the camp director said as he greeted me at the door.

Tears began welling up in my eyes. My Great-Aunt had been battling cancer for several years.

"It's my Aunt, isn't it?"

"No, it's your grandmother."

"Grandmother," I exclaimed, now in a full-blown panic attack. "Which grandmother?"

"Why don't you call home," the director offered.

My Mom and Dad were home. They told me Nana Uh-Uh (my Mom's mom) had died in the hospital. She was there for a few days because she had a bad heart and other health issues. To make a long story short, the bastards at the hospital screwed up on a procedure, punctured something, and caused my beloved Nana to die.

I was ten days shy of my 13th birthday -- five weeks shy of my Bar Mitzvah, a milestone that was dimmed by the loss of her light. Needless to say, it sucked. I stood tall and delivered one of the eulogies a few days later, but not without the thought in the back of my mind that I had lost one of my best friends and staunchest supporters. Nana came to every Grandparents Day at school. She came to my plays. She had Sunday night dinners with family. She spent a week with me in the Spring of '86 when I flew out to be with her and my Papa at their winter home. She gave me so many memories to cherish.

So, today is a really special day. I frequently visit the cemetery to talk to my Nana. I visit every July 17, with the exceptions (few) when I wasn't living in Cleveland. Those years come and go. But, this year is somehow different. Twenty years. Just to say it seems surreal. I miss her so much. It is difficult to believe we are now separated by 20 years. That's well more than half my life. I remember other years that seemed significant, especially that first year....but this year just seems like it is so heavy. Maybe it is what I have been through the last year and all, having been engaged, dis-engaged, etc. Maybe it is that I am starting to see things more clearly as they relate to my life. Or, maybe it is the fact that 20 years just seems like a lifetime.

No matter what, during those 20 years, my beautiful Nana has just grown closer and closer to my heart.

I miss you Nana.

What An SMS Can Do For You

2006-07-16T23:40:00.000-04:00

Short Message Services (SMS) are something I love for my cellphone because they keep me in touch with the world in live time with things like breaking news updates, amber alerts and sports scores, etc. They can also be used by other websites and companies to send messages throughout the day, week or month, etc., to you -- messages you can chew on. Today, I received such a message from Ask Moses, a "Jewish" site that offers all types of information on Judaism, but also is very informational to other denominations, as well.

"All problems stem from the lack of spiritual light -- our job is to
increase the light and let it shine forth everywhere."

I absolutely love this quote that was sent to me as an SMS. It doesn't take much to understand, and it -- to me -- is so true. To me, it is somewhat akin to question girl's recent post, Wednesday with Q.G.. The fact of the matter is that we all need to start leading less selfish lives. We need to find ways to make differences in our communities -- to spread the light. We need to find ways to help others while we help ourselves at the same time. Can we put other people -- needy people -- ahead of ourselves? Can we find a way to exact change? Is it too late to help other people? Has society become so polarized that we can't see beyond ourselves? These are the serious questions we need to ask ourselves -- and now. There is no time to wait.

I spend 15-20 hours a month volunteering at the Cleveland Sight Center. There, I read selected articles from the New York Times and Wall Street Journal live on radio broadcasts for the visually impaired. I also belong to other organizations that eat up my time, but that make me feel good because I know I am making a difference. I am asking you to try to find five to ten hours a month to make that same difference. That's just 120 hours a year -- that's five days, or just one work week a year. That's the least any one of us can do to make a change.

More Doody on Dudes

2006-07-15T17:46:00.000-04:00

I would also like to remind you that
Deciphering Dudes Dot.Com has been getting a lot of play lately -- both inside and outside the Blogger community. Please feel free to stop by and get an understanding of what we're doing. You can also submit new questions we can answer.

What The Hell Do I Do With These?

2006-07-15T17:12:00.000-04:00

My dad is a completely anal-retentive clean freak. The slightest spot in my parents' tidy home sends him into a panic. Last week, he paid a ton of money to have a specialty company come in and clean the grout on all of the tile in the house. It took them half a day. He vacuums incessantly. He is the Wizard of Windex. He polishes and scrubs every single part of that house, and warns me -- within an inch of my life -- that I better not mess it up. Hell, he even gets pissed at the dogs for shedding a hair. In short, he is an overboard anal-retentive clean freak I happen to love.

Then there's me. I am not anal-retentive about anything. My place would best be described by my father as a "pig's sty". Ever hear that one before? There was once a poem written about me. One of the lines was: "Nigel's so lazy/about picking up his clothes/wherever they lay/are wherever he throws." That line was written 20 years ago, and is still true today. Hell, I swear I launder and dress in clean clothes. I just don't mind a trail of clothes from other rooms in my apartment to the bedroom. I refuse to vacuum everyday. If Ike sheds, he sheds. That's life with a dog. My bathroom is organized, but messy. I just don't have the time to scrub everything down everyday. My kitchen has some spare pots and pans around, and a few things hanging around in the sink (dishes, utensils, et al.). But, it's my place and I am happy. I like clutter. It's the way I live.

I don't tell Dad to keep his place the way he does, and I don't want him to tell me to "clean up my act," a conversation that arises once in a while.

Which leads me to the title of the blog. I am crazy about one thing. I need every new cleaning product available, if even just to admire it in my "cleaning closet." I want the latest Windex, the newest floor cleaner, the greatest vacuum, the best toilet cleaner, all of those electric devices for making cleaning quicker and so on and so on. They just look good in my apartment. I like seeing that I am up-to-date on the "trendiest" cleaning products. Hell, even if I don't use them doesn't mean I don't have to have them. So, Target usually does me just right. I confess I have spent more than $100 on cleaning supplies that never get used. Or, maybe I get up the courage to try them once. Either way, I win. I can always say, "I have this" or "I have that." Just because I have it, doesn't mean I have used it.

So, what the hell do I do with things anyway?

Deciphering Dudes Redux

2006-07-14T07:13:00.000-04:00

It's happening! Our e-mail box is slowly, but surely, starting to fill up with your questions on our sister site, DECIPHERING DUDES DOT.COM.

The page link is www.understandingdudes.blogspot.com. Share the link with your girlfriends, and we'll share the fun with you. The more the merrier for us. Spread the word, amigas.

Your buddies,
Nigel and Ike.

Nigel Does The White Party (and the Divine Miss M)

2006-07-13T22:46:00.000-04:00

In 1999, I found myself assigned to one of the best stories ever. My boss told me I was going to interview Bette Midler. Now, aside from the tears I shed watching "Beaches", I wasn't a huge fan. In fact, that song "The Rose" is like nails on a chalkboard to me. Nonetheless, the opportunity to interview this amazing celebrity was just too good to pass up. So, I was told that she would be at a club called "Salvation", and that I should be there around 8 o'clock or so. I had never been to Salvation, so I didn't know what to expect.

So, my boss forgot to tell me one thing about Salvation. It was one of Miami's hottest gay spots. That's cool with me. I have a ton of gay friends -- and some relatives, too. I just didn't know what I was getting into. You see, Midler was performing at an event called the "White Party". If memory serves me correctly, it was called "Winter Party" at that point in time. Anyway, the place was jampacked with gays and lesbians who were partying their asses off. Some of them were my friends, actually....(and I think they were wondering what the hell I was doing there all dressed up when they were starting to shed clothes).

A "bouncer" led us to this area where there was a dais with a bunch of cameras. We thought he was leading us to the Divine Miss M. No such luck. We saw Bette Midler that night, but not up close and personal. We saw the shy entertainer jump out on stage, make a proclamation about her "stage fright", talk about the importance of HIV/AIDS research and jam her ass off.

I bring this up for a number of reasons. It was about the first time I did not get the interview. It was one of the most electrifying nights of my life, and it was one of the first times I really gave serious thought to the HIV/AIDS crisis in this country. These "parties" are an excellent way for my gay and lesbian friends to celebrate diversity and deliver a message to the world: that none of us will ever stop fighting for a cure for this illness.

You may have no knowledge of these parties, so I wanted you to check out Jeffrey Sanker's website, www.jeffreysanker.com. Jeff is the leading promoter of the White Parties today. Check him out!

100 Things You Don't Know About Me: The Final Volume

2006-07-12T23:38:00.000-04:00

76. My cousin was once married to the man whose family owned Valle de las Lenas in Argentina. I visited there in 1987.
77. I have been to Israel twice.
78. My father and I have had season-tickets to the Cleveland Indians games since around 1985. Our tickets are right behind home plate.
79. I once had a girlfriend, who lived with me, attach tethers to our bed. They became a permanent fixture.
80. The first television show I can remember getting hooked on was "Emergency!"
81. I prefer Nike walking/running shoes to all other brands.
82. I once politely asked LeBron James for an autograph while I was backstage at another event, but I was snubbed.
83. I was the first person to find the man who missed taking Valujet Flight 592 that crashed into the Everglades on May 11, 1996.
84. Al Leiter pitched a no-hitter for the Florida Marlins that same night, a game that my reporter and I were supposed to have attended (as fans).
85. I have a full array of "product" in my bathroom -- including masks, hair-styling products, skin lotions, etc.
86. I paid a summer camp counselor to see Madonna's nude spread in Playboy on July 10, 1985.
87. My friend and I caught our History teacher at a titty bar once and tried to buy him a drink.
88. One of the first times I was on a horse, my father was in front of me. Something spooked his horse, and mine started to go after it (on a pancake breakfast trail ride in Arizona)
89. I had a backstage pass to the MuchMusic Video Awards in Toronto in 1999. It flat out rocked.
90. Most of the journalism books I received in college were useless in the real world.
91. I used to go to Bethany Beach, Delaware in the summer with my Aunt, Uncle and cousins.
92. My eye color changes from season to season.
93. I am an organ donor.
94. I rarely turn my engine off while fueling up at the gas station.
95. I hate brisket.
96. I have attended two of the most amazing college football games ever: Ohio State at Michigan, where my Buckeyes won 25-21 on Saturday, November 19, 2005 at Ann Arbor; and my Hurricanes upending the top-ranked Florida State Seminoles at Miami in 2000.
97. When it comes to boxers or briefs, I choose .............. boxers.
98. I believe in good and bad karma.
99. Contrary to every belief I have in my body, I still get advice from those stupid "love horoscopes" online. I usually discard the advice, because I can't run my life based on my sign.
100. The last 99 items I wrote are completely accurate.

Deciphering Dudes

2006-07-11T23:51:00.000-04:00

Tonight, I answered your first questions to Deciphering Dudes Dot Com. For some reason, Blogger never informed me the questions were there. Read the answers, and leave more questions there. I am happy to assist you. Visit www.understandingdudes.blogspot.com.

100 Things You Don't Know About Me Vol. III

2006-07-10T17:20:00.000-04:00

51. I love green jello because it acts as an aphrodisiac for me (just like green M&Ms do for others)
52. My first trip to a cemetery occurred when I was around five years old. My grandmother took me to see her sister.
53. My first french kiss was at my summer camp. I can't remember who I kissed.
54. I love wearing Tommy Bahama shirts.
55. My oldest TV set is a 15-year-old Sony Trinitron RM-781.
56. I have high-speed internet access.
57. I love porn.
58. One of my exes used to say "Good trip, rabbit, rabbit, rabbit" before embarking on a journey -- be it by car, plane, et al. It drove me nuts.
59. If I had gotten married, our first song was going to be Al Green's "Let's Stay Together".
60. I have a Sony VAIO computer, ca. 2001.
61. I am a MAJOR pack-rat, who -- amongst other things -- has a baseball card collection of nearly 15,000 cards.
62. I think Willie Mays is the greatest living former baseball player.
63. My Dad has a signed 1954 American League All-Star players baseball. It is in my safe keeping.
64. I was suspended from high school -- and accused of plagiarizing -- when I helped my friend write a paper.
65. I sit in my late Grandfather's office chair, an inherited chair I refuse to give up.
66. I once split my head open on stairs, during a third grade Halloween party. I took six stitches.
67. I wear contact lenses.
68. I still sleep with my "blankey".
69. My cousin manages a famous member of the WWE.
70. Michael S. helped me get my first TV job, and he is also one of the reasons I left the biz.
71. I had a housekeeper growing up who is like a fifth grandparent to me.
72. I have done an exhaustive study of my genealogy.
73. I volunteer for a number of different charities, including the Cleveland Sight Center where I read live newspaper articles from the New York Times and Wall Street Journal once or twice a week.
74. My Nana's name (for me) was "Uh-Uh" because I used to get into stuff and she would say "Uh-Uh".
75. I have a framed, autographed Miller Lite picture of Billy Martin sitting over my sink.

"Funeral Day"

2006-07-09T22:43:00.000-04:00

Nearly 1000 people showed up for my cousin David's funeral today. You might call it "Funeral Day" because it is a celebration -- like a "Birthday" -- that's just no fun. My cousin Jeremy, David's son, delivered a twenty minute rousing eulogy that had all of us in tears from the get-go. Quite simply, it was a boy heaping praise on his father. It included the annals of David's life. His words echoed in the words of Jeremy. Jeremy told one of his jokes to perfection.

He explained -- person-by-person -- what David meant to members of his family and his closest friends. There were plenty of tears, and chuckles mixed in to lighten the heaviness of the day. Indeed, this is one of the most difficult days any one of us have ever had to endure. The procession from the funeral home to the cemetery stretched nearly a mile, because he had so many friends that wanted to bear witness to the unbelievable: that David was dead.

Still now, nearly 12 hours after that funeral began, I am still in shock. It's rare that anyone has friends from elementary school, high school, college, law school and other walks of life that stay in touch. Throughout the years, David was the glue that kept everyone together. Truly. There were enough tears to flood a river today -- even into the evening hours. It's hard to console so many people in one place at one time.

Hundreds of people passed through my cousin's home today and tonight. They recalled David. They praised him. They shared stories with his widow, children, two sisters, et al. I was impressed with the range of people David touched -- people from every socioeconomic class. There were stories told repeatedly today about how he did free legal work for many people. Jeremy joked that his law partners would "not be happy if they knew all this free work he did." But, that's the kind of guy my cousin was. He understood the human condition and never failed to employ it in his daily personal and professional lives.

A MAN SHOULD NOT BE JUDGED BY THE LENGTH OF HIS DAYS RATHER BY HOW HE SPENDS THEM.

David missed out on many days, to be sure, but the sad fact is his time was up. There are no regrets. He got to say his goodbyes. As I have written here before, he never felt sorry for himself. The end was horrendous, but he fought it out. We all wish we could get more days for our loved ones, better days... Friday, David's days came to an end. Today, we remembered how wonderful those days were and why we'll remember him for the remainder of our very own days.

100 Things People Don't Know About Me Vol. II

2006-07-09T15:51:00.000-04:00

26. I am a big-time nail-biter.
27. My friend and I once used M-80s to blow up our Principal's mailbox.
28. I didn't start eating sushi until I was 20.
29. My favorite drink is Knob Creek and Coke with lime.
30. My favorite drug was marijuana -- preferably from the Finger Lakes region of New York.
31. My fist dog's name was Barnaby.
32. I dislike cats.
33. I once went paragliding at 1000 feet and was able to see Cuba from my vantage point.
34. My first car accident occurred when I was backing out of my garage and drove right into my friend's car.
35. I am good in the kitchen.
36. I like to take naps.
37. I once got caught having sex in the hot tub of a high-rise condo complex at 5:30 in the morning.
38. One of my really good friends, Carlana Stone Lawson, wrote a top-selling self-help book "Never Give In, Never Give Up". Check her out at www.carlanastone.com.
39. I am Jewish.
40. Se habla espanol.
41. I never ended up getting a diploma.
42. I use Head & Shoulders every other day.
43. Our family's best friend is a funeral director.
44. My newest band that I love is "The Fray". www.thefray.net
45. I got my first telephone when I was five. It was a Mickey Mouse.
46. I didn't know anyone killed on 9/11.
47. Ike's original name was "Cronkite".
48. I am not a coffee aficionado.
49. I used to smoke up to three cigars a day when I was living in Florida.
50. One of my favorite hideaways in America is a small B&B called Joan's on Jones in Savannah.

100 Things People Don't Know About Me Vol. I

2006-07-08T23:58:00.000-04:00

1. I go to Weight Watchers.
2. My first car was a 1989 Toyota Celica convertible (black).
3. My first girlfriend's name was Jessica Z.
4. Our first date was when we went to see "The Making of Mr. Right"
5. One of my newest hobbies is playing "Runescape" online.
6. Now I drive a Nissan Murano (still black).
7. My kindergarten teacher's name was Miss McArthur.
8. I got chicken pox from David A. and gave it to David B.
9. I lost my first grandparent, rather unexpectedly, ten days before my 13th birthday.
10. My friends and family really did surprise me with a 30th birthday party. I was shocked.
11. My favorite men's clothing department is Nordstrom's.
12. If I had a million dollars, I would give a lot to charity.
13. I am, at times, insecure.
14. I have said "I love you" a ton of times but only really been "in love" once.
15. My first concert was a Barry Manilow concert when I was around three.
16. I am an only child.
17. I am named for a maternal great-grandfather.
18. My first job was packaging grapes at a market.
19. My senior prom date was a camp friend from Maryland who flew in for the weekend.
20. My first video game player was Intellivision.
21. The best gift I ever received was an Ebel watch from my parents for my 30th birthday.
22. I have more Sony appliances in my house than any other brand.
23. I am a Leo.
24. I once was at a concert where Marilyn Manson was a surprise guest onstage with Smashing Pumpkins.
25. My Great-Aunt is widely regarded as the world's foremost expert on cruise travel.

What She Says + What He Hears = Love

2006-07-08T11:47:00.000-04:00

Short, but in order....

What she says: "I am not going to church."
What he hears: "If you don't go to church, G-d will strike you down and leave me with that hot Barbie from next door."

What she says: "You're not getting any tonight."
What he hears: "There is no doubt I am getting some tonight."

What she says: "That hurts."
What he hears: "Not enough." (assuming he is your ordinary, average asshole)

What she says: "It's so big"
What he hears: "You ain't seen nothin' yet."

What she says: "Do we have to go out with your family?"

What he hears: "Her family sucks so bad."

What she says: "Can we go shopping?"
What he hears: "What more could she want? I just got that brand new widescreen HDTV theatre system, fishing gear, mountain bikes and (insert assorted other guy stuff)."

What she says: "I love you."
What he hears: "I love you."

A Tear Should Be Followed By a Chuckle

2006-07-07T23:05:00.000-04:00

I learned a lot tonight. Many of you know our cousin, David, has been battling cancer since March. His brave fought ended early this morning -- sending a mournful, but collective sigh of relief through his family and friends. The last couple weeks were particularly difficult and his widow, my cousin Lee, said -- in fact -- that she wouldn't wish his final hours upon "his worst enemies." She has been tremendously stoic throughout this battle. And, David, as I have sometimes mentioned, went down to the wire cracking as many jokes as possible and making light of his terminal diagnosis. Lately, he once said, "Oh, yeah, I've got lots of that," when someone was telling him to take his time doing something. He never had a quixotic thought during this time. He managed to keep all of us at ease while he wilted away before our eyes. He showed amazing grace at a time when others would fold up the tent and leave it lying there, feeling sorry for themselves.

You guys, he is my Dad's age. He has three children and three granchildren. He only saw two of his kids get married. The third, a daughter, is only in her early twenties. This is the "big heavy". My father is not an emotional man, but he was wound so tight today you could see it in every move he made. This is an event that just was not supposed to happen. Not now. Not ever. My Uncle, the retired cardiologist, calls cancer "bad luck".

So, now we wish we had more time with my cousin. We wish we said different things. We wish we had acted different ways. We wish he could have witnessed more events, taken part in more family traditions, enjoyed more of the life he had already ingested. But, sadly, that's not how things operate here. That's one of the reasons a tear should always be followed by a chuckle.

Laughter should make us cry and crying should make us laugh. The two should be inextricably linked.

So, here are a couple things that happened tonight that made me draw this simple conclusion. First, we were talking about the granchildren (one is 8 or so and the others are 11 (twins)). Someone asked me about the first grandparent I lost. I said that I like to have a happy ending for each of my stories. My Nana died 10 days before my 13th birthday. It was unexpected and awful for me. I was away at summer camp and rushed home to grieve with my family. After her funeral, I flew back to New York. Here's the story I told numerous times tonight. After this death and the hurt it left on my heart, I made that return flight back only to be greeted by this counselor who said we had to go to this hospital. "We have to pick up (Adam) who broke his arm. Come with me." We got to the hospital and found ourselves staring at a maze of different colored stripes on the floor -- each leading to a different area.

"Nigel, you're going to have to help me here," the counselor said.

"Why's that?" I replied.

"I'm color-blind."

True story. I remember it to this day. And, believe it or not, it provided a chuckle for my cousin, the widow Smith, on what is probably going to be the saddest day of her life.

The second story is a little more telling and a lot less showing. As I was leaving, one of those granchildren didn't want me to go. She was happy tonight -- after a lot of tears, I'm sure -- because I was paying attention to her and another cousin from the other side of the family. I didn't really have anything to say to her, and it's not my place, but I did want to be close to her so that an "adult" was around in case she wanted to talk, etc. Bottom line: Kids need the closeness and kindness of adults in these situations. We should sit and quietly listen. We should be calm. They need us as much as we need them.

And, what we really have to remember -- especially when dealing with children -- is that a tear should be followed by a chuckle.

FOR MY BELOVED COUSIN

M. DAVID SMITH

1944-2006

Those of You Who Voted For (c).....

2006-07-04T21:40:00.000-04:00

WIN!! Dr. J is going to go out with me on a second date (See "Death Over Guacamole" posting). I guess I'm not that bad after all. In fact, this will be our 2 1/2 date because she actually invited me to join her for late drinks the other night.

We are tentatively scheduled to go to this vegetarian-type restaurant called Cafe Limbo. Check it out at www.cafelimbo.com, and let me know if it's the thing to do. Dr. J likes veg food, and not a lot of meats, so I figure this may be a good place to go hang out. Dr. J also likes Shrinky Dinks, Crayola crayons that you make yourself and other arts and crafts projects. How "adorable"!

She is simple and sweet. She calls me when she can -- from home or the hospital, and she always makes me feel like a million bucks. I haven't felt this wonderful from meeting a woman in years, and that includes the ex-fiancee. It's like the flame inside my heart has been rekindled. It feels so genuine.

10 other things I like about Dr. J, in no particular order:

1. She loves and respects her parents and sister.
2. She enjoys the finer things in life.
3. She likes to travel (Greece is her favorite).
4. She's extremely educated.
5. She makes me laugh my ass off.
6. She seems to actually care about my feelings.
7. She is low-maintenance.
8. She respects my right to have an opinion, even though she may not agree with it.
9. She knows how to have a good time (she wanted me to crash a wedding with her this weekend).
10. She loves the same Tv show (Rescue Me) I love.

So, maybe this whole (c) thing will be the first of many (c)'s for me. I sure hope so. If so, it'll be the best C I ever earned.

Events That Changed Our Lives

2006-07-03T23:00:00.000-04:00

On the eve of July fourth, I wanted to look at some historical American events that changed our lives. I have selected five events I was alive for and five that took place before I was born.

Events I Have Witnessed

1. 9/11: The worst terrorist attack ever perpetrated against Americans on our own soil is a day that we will never forget. We will always remember where we were beginning at 8:46 a.m. that day when plans flew into the the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and a Pennsylvania field. Were it not for some heroic acts by men onboard the Pennsylvania plane, the attacks could have been more severe. 19 members of al-Qaida, a terrorist organization led by Osama bin Laden were behind the evil plot, which led America into a war in the Middle East. However, it was that day -- September 11th -- where Americans learned just how vulnerable they could be. It was that day that ripped a hole collectively through our hearts. It was that day that will stand the test of time as one of the worst moments in American history.

2. The explosions of Space Shuttles Columbia and Challenger: The Challenger was the first Shuttle to destruct in thin air on January 28, 1986. Just 73 seconds after liftoff from Cape Canaveral, the Shuttle blew up, taking seven astronauts with it -- including a teacher, Christa McAuliffe, who had been selected to participate in the flight. Some 17 years, on February 1, 2003, Columbia -- the oldest member of the fleet -- blew up upon landing over Texas. Highly sophisticated structural problems were blamed for its demise. Now, Americans who were alive during the Apollo area had seen tragedies before, but many people thought these spaceships -- the shuttles -- were more infallible. That was not the case, and America is scrambling to complete future flights by 2010 with its successor being Project Constellation with its Ares I and Ares V vehicles.

3. The spread of HIV/AIDS: "As of January 2006, the Joint United Nations Programme on HIV/AIDS (UNAIDS) and the World Health Organization (WHO) estimate that AIDS has killed more than 25 million people since it was first recognized on December 1, 1981, making it one of the most destructive pandemic in recorded history," according to Wikipedia. Until There's a Cure Foundation estimates one million people are currently living with HIV in the United States, with approximately 40,000 new infections occurring each year. 70 percent of these new infections occur in men and 30 percent occur in women. By race, 54 percent of the new infections in the United States occur among African Americans, and 64 percent of the new infections in women occur in African American women. 75 percent of the new infections in women are heterosexually transmitted. Half of all new infections in the United States occur in people 25 years of age or younger.

4. Richard Nixon's resignation: Nixon resigned when I was one, so technically I didn't really "witness" his White House mess. However, I was alive, so it does count. Nixon was the only American president to ever resign office. He did so before impeachment proceedings could take place.

Here's the Wikipedia scoop on Nixon's scandal:

"In October 1972, The Washington Post reported the FBI had determined Nixon aides had spied on and sabotaged numerous Democratic presidential candidates as a part of the operations that led to the infamous Watergate scandal. During the campaign five burglars were arrested on June 17, 1972, in the Democratic Party headquarters at the Watergate office complex. They were subsequently linked to the White House. This became one of a series of major scandals involving the Committee to Re-Elect the President (known as CRP but referred to by opponents as CREEP), including the White House enemies list and assorted "dirty tricks." The ensuing Watergate scandal exposed the Nixon administration's rampant corruption, illegality, and deceit.
Nixon himself downplayed the scandal as mere politics, but when his aides resigned in disgrace, Nixon's role in ordering an illegal cover-up came to light in the press, courts, and congressional investigations. Nixon evaded taxes, accepted illicit campaign contributions, ordered secret bombings, and harassed opponents with executive agencies, wiretaps, and break-ins. His supporters noted that the abuses of the Nixon presidency were but a logical extension of partisan abuses by Presidents Franklin Roosevelt, Kennedy, and Johnson such as use of the IRS against political opponents. Unlike the tape recordings by those Presidents, his secret recordings of White House conversations were revealed and subpoenaed and showed details of his complicity in the cover-up. Nixon was named by the grand jury investigating Watergate as "an unindicted co-conspirator" in the Watergate Scandal.

He lost support from some in his own party as well as much popular support after what became known as the Saturday Night Massacre of October 20, 1973, in which he ordered Archibald Cox, the special prosecutor in the Watergate case, to be fired, as well as firing several of his own subordinates who objected to this move. The House Judiciary Committee controlled by Democrats opened formal and public impeachment hearings against Nixon on May 9, 1974. Despite his efforts, one of the secret recordings, known as the "smoking gun" tape, was released on August 5, 1974, and revealed that Nixon authorized hush money to Watergate burglar E. Howard Hunt, and also revealed that Nixon ordered the CIA to tell the FBI to stop investigating certain topics because of "the Bay of Pigs thing". Such an order was later withdrawn or never carried out. In light of his loss of political support and the near certainty of both his impeachment by the House of Representatives and his probable conviction by the Senate, he resigned on August 9, 1974, after addressing the nation on television the previous evening. He never admitted criminal wrongdoing, although he later conceded errors of judgment.

On September 8, 1974, a blanket pardon from President Gerald R. Ford, who served as Nixon's second Vice President, effectively ended any possibility of indictment. The pardon was highly controversial and Nixon's critics claimed that the blanket pardon was quid pro quo for his resignation. No evidence of this corrupt bargain has ever been proven, and many modern historians dismiss any claims of overt collusion between the two men concerning the pardon. The pardon hurt Ford politically, and it was one of the major reasons cited for Ford's defeat in the election of 1976."

5. Ivan Boesky and the Insider Trading Scandal of 1986: I have to include Boesky because he is the first person I remember who caused a commotion up and down Wall Street. On November 14, 1986 the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) charged Boesky with illegal stock manipulation based on insider information. He was sentenced to prison, barred from dealing in securities, and ordered to pay $100 million in penalties. He received a lighter sentence when he agreed to help the SEC in an insider-trading probe that rocked Wall Street. Boessky was also the basis for Michael Douglas' character, Goron Gekko, in the movie "Wall Street". In that movie, Gekko is famous for saying "Greed is good," a sentiment Boesky shared with graduates of

Events I Missed

1. Assassination of President John F. Kennedy: Looking back at all the film, including Zapruder's, I can't help but understand the grief that rippled the nation. My parents vividly describe the moment they learned of the President's death. He was so young and vibrant. He was from a wealthy political machine. His assassination is considered to be a defining moment in our history because of its traumatic impact on the nation, its impact on the political history of ensuing decades, and his status as an icon for a new generation of Americans. In 1957, he wrote "Profiles in Courage," which won the Pulitzer Prize for biography. Kennedy is widely regarded as one of our best Presidents ever.

2. The Great Depression: Many people don't know that the Great Depression was actually a pandemic, and the United States was a major victim. The blame was on President Herbert Hoover, who was thrown out of office in 1932 and replaced by FDR. The stock market crash in 1929 was just one event of many that became indicative of our tough times. Roosevelt launched a "New Deal" designed to provide emergency relief to nearly a third of the population, to recover the economy to normal levels, and to reform failed parts of the economic system. Relatively high unemployment lingered until the early 1940s.

3. The Signing of the Emancipation Proclamation: The Wikipedia says, "Emancipation Proclamation was a presidential order in 1863 that freed most (but not all) of the slaves in the United States. It was not a law passed by a Congress but a proclamation written by the president alone based on the war powers given to the President by the Constitution. It was a declaration by Abraham Lincoln on January 1, 1863, declaring the freedom of all slaves in Confederate territory not already under Union control. Its immediate impact was to free only some runaway slaves, but thousands more slaves were liberated as the Union armies advanced. The great majority of 4 million slaves were freed through operation of the Emancipation Proclamation. The border states freed their own slaves, except Kentucky. Legally their emancipation was permanently effected by the Thirteenth Amendment ratified in December 1865. The Emancipation Proclamation was never tested in court one way or the other, but no legal scholar has questioned its validity."

For me, as a ardent supporter of civil rights and affirmative action, I would have liked to have witnessed this event. It definitely changed the course of the nation, but not completely, as blacks always had trouble in the South, and were constantly abused and treated as slaves well into the twentieth century.

4. The Assassination of President Abraham Lincoln: Lincoln, the 16th President of the United States, was shot by assassin John Wilkes Booth on April 14, 1865 during a showing of Our American Cousin at the Ford's Theatre in Washington, D.C. He died the next day in a house owned by William Petersen. The murder was a heavy blow to Northerners who had watched him save the Union, and it changed the fabric of the country leaving, perhaps, a greater divide than ever.

5. Immigration at the Turn-of-the-Century : Ellis Island opened on January 1, 1892 and processed more than 12 million immigrants by November 1954 at its closing. Immigrants were examined by doctors and questioned by government officials. Wikipedia says of Ellis Island that, "(it) was the first stop for most immigrants from Europe. There, they were processed before they could enter the United States. First, they had to pass a physical examination. Those with serious health problems or diseases were sent home or were held in the island's hospital facilities for long periods of time. Next, they were asked a series of questions, including name, occupation, work experience, and the amount of money they carried with them." More than three thousand would-be immigrants died on Ellis Island while being held in the hospital facilities. Some unskilled workers and infirm migrants were rejected outright because they were considered "likely to become a public charge."

My paternal grandfather was the only immigrant amongst my grandparents. He sailed to Baltimore around 1913 on the German liner, the Barbarossa (which means Red Beard). He used to vividly recall his young journey here. I can't help but wonder if the course of events in Grandpa's life would have been dramatically different if he had come through Ellis Island. At any rate, I am happy he ended hope here. He was a good man, a proud immigrant who got his citizenship certificate as soon as he was able and enjoyed all the finer things life had to offer. As always, tomorrow night is one of those night for me where I see fireworks and think of all my grandparents in the sky above.

IMPORTANT NOTICE

Due to the overwhelming reaction to "Guyspeak", Ike and I are offering you a brand new blog in addition to this one. The new blog, "Deciphering Dudes Dot Com" is available to you right now at understandingdudes.blogspot.com. You ask questions, you get answers. It'd as easy as 1-2-3.

Ten Positive Affirmations About Me

2006-07-02T17:52:00.000-04:00

Every once in a while it does us all a bit of good to take stock in ourselves. I know many people who suffer from depression, and I always give them two parts of sound advice. The first is to always keep an "anchor" list with them -- on their person, at home, at work, etc. The "anchor" list is a list of things that are good in your life right now. It can be as simple as eating ice cream and as complex as caring for an elderly relative.

My second piece of advice is to write a list of positive affirmations about yourself. Usually, but not always, begin with the words "I am". With that in mind, I offer you my periodic table of positive affirmations

1. I am someone who makes family a priority.

2. I am a good friend.

3. I am someone who volunteers to do important things in the community.

4. I am someone respectful of my religion and others.

5. I am responsible for my actions.

6. I am in touch with my emotions.

7. I am smart.

8. I am trustworthy.
9. I am optimistic.
10. I am funny.

Like the "anchor" list, this is a helpful list to remind you why things could always be worse. I hope you can make such lists, too, and they are as helpful to you as they are to me.

Death Over Guacamole

2006-07-01T01:26:00.000-04:00

So I just returned from the Mona Lisa of first dates. I am not just saying that. First dates can sometimes be quite awkward and even disastrous, but this one was fun! It's difficult to really discern what a woman wants from a first date after only a couple hours of conversation on the phone. My date was a doctor. I'll call her Doctor J like the legendary basketball player. Doctor J intimated that she liked Mexican food, particularly guacamole. I confess, I love Mexican, but guacamole and/or sour cream are never crossing my lips. In fact, I'd rather die than eat guac.

All of the sudden, I am feeling that pressure that dudes sometimes place upon themselves to find that perfect spot to satisfy their first date's needs -- it's like our first try to come up swinging and hit one out of the ballpark. There's a little performance anxiety hanging over our heads. We sweat. We think too much. We generally think so much that we screw things up and die hard trying.

I seldomly read the Cleveland Free Times or Scene Magazine. They're alternative papers here that I enjoy, but I just never pull them out of the box. For whatever reason yesterday, I was inclined to scoop up copies of each. Of course, as luck would have it, a sharp new Mexican restaurant was critiqued in the Free Times. The write-up interesting, and the piece de la resistance is that this place specialized in GUACAMOLE. Now, the date could have sucked the big one, but at least I would have given Dr. J her guacamole. At least it would have looked like I tried.

When I picked her up, I didn't tell her where we were going. The secret was a wonderful thing I had kept to myself all day. I was so excited that I had found the "perfect place" (or so I hoped) that I could hardly contain myself. So, long story short, the place had this amazing guacamole -- six different styles (flavors). We got a sampler of three. My grandmother always taught me that if you try something three times you'll like it. So, I dipped three times. Sure enough, I was in heaven. It didn't hurt that the conversation was flawless, and I was paying more attention to Dr. J than I was to our food.

There was, however, one problem. I kept on bringing up death. I talked about death and dying every other story. Maybe it's because I was with Dr. J and I felt comfortable about it. Maybe it's because I wanted her to feel comfortable discussing her job around me (she is a pediatric intensive care doctor). Either way, the subject was like a dark cloud I placed over our heads while we sat on a patio under a ray of sunshine.

Dr. J was the one who suggested I call this blog entry "Death Over Guacamole". She couldn't help but notice the double entendre between my wanting to die before I would ever consider eating guacamole and our morbid little discussion about death and dying.

By the way, for those of you who are devotees to this blog, and are wondering what category Dr. J fell under -- she is super sexy. I am totally attracted to her, and we had a wonderful time.

Most guys, again, spend so much time and effort worrying about the first date that they either (a) blow the whole thing after five minutes; (b) work so hard for a second date that they blow the whole thing by the end of the night; or (c) take it easy and know the second date is just around the corner.

I'm hoping my guacamole experience and our easy conversation will equal (c). And, I promise, if (c) happens, there'll be no more "Death Over Guacamole".

Menu at www.momocho.com

Deciphering "Guyspeak"

2006-06-30T15:24:00.000-04:00

This blog is dedicated to a fellow blogger who was the inspiration for this piece. We talked about it for a little bit, and it gave way to what I am about to write. You know who you are, and I am grateful.

This blog is about some forms of what I call "Guyspeak", which is the shit we fellas say that you just don't understand. In this issue of "Nigel's Guide to Guyspeak", I'll discuss some terms of endearment.

First, let's check out the word "cute". "Cute" is something we call you when you are decent looking and we would take you out with our friends. We wouldn't show you off, per se, but you are definitely some one who could hang with the guys. A girl is "cute" when she can drink beer with us, party with us and maybe "hook up" with us. We aren't going to have a long-term relationship with her. It's akin to calling her "nice". It means she's great to go out with, nice to be around, but there will never be a serious relationship.

Second, let's deal with the word, "pretty". "Pretty" means we want to offer you a compliment, but we don't want to blow things out of proportion. A girl who is pretty is someone we would definitely show off to our friends and even our family. She has more confidence than "cute". There is definitely something more attractive to her. We genuinely like her, but we don't love her. She is more physically attractive than anything else. When we say, "You're really pretty," it may be contrived as insincere, which is why you hear it less often. It's hard to tell a girl she's "pretty" in just the right way without her feeling it's a left-handed compliment. But, in the end, we pretty much mean what we are saying and we definitely find you attractive. Did I mention it can also be used as a ploy to get down your pants? Shhh... don't give any of my secrets away.

Third, there's "hot". "Hot" is pretty straightforward. It means we think you look awesome and we want to get it on as soon as possible before you might "cool down". "Hot" is one of those words girls almost certainly want to hear. "Hot" is also a word that reverberates in their minds. They want to be "hot". "Hot" is over-rated. We use that word all the time -- especially when describing celebrities. Jennifer Aniston is hot. Marge Simpson is hot (LOL). "Hot" is a push-button word we use to get down your pants. Used properly, and with enough infusion of alcohol, it almost certainly works. It's also a word we repeat more than the first two. "You're hot. You are so hot." And, when we "get it on", it's a word used in the bedroom, where the other two just aren't..

Finally, my fellow blogger -- now understanding all three of these -- asked me to define beautiful.

Now, this is much easier. "Beautiful" means I love you. There are no ifs, ands or buts about it. When we say you are beautiful it encompasses everything about you. We really want to be with you and have a meaningful relationship (or we're lying really well). This is a term reserved for the best of the best and isn't thrown around lightly. It refers, as I said, to a girl's inner-being as well as her outer features. We are definitely taking her home to meet Mom and Dad. It's also the word that appears in more songs than any other. James Blunt is the most recent example. Next to "love", beautiful is probably used in more love songs than any other word, which is why I clearly equate it to love.

That's "Guyspeak" for today. Any questions? Let me know. Want me to decipher more? Let me know that, too. This is Nigel Vossap at your service.

6:30 a.m. at the Gym

2006-06-29T17:28:00.000-04:00

CONCEPT

My doctor recently suggested I hire a personal trainer. I was a bit adverse at first, but then he started rattling off a bunch of logical reasons so I gave in. It's not like I am in horrible shape. It's just that I don't have a six pack and bulging muscles like Schwarzenegger used to have. Honestly, it's unlikely I'll ever be the bodybuilding type, but it would be nice to get a notice every once in a while. I've always wanted to be that dude who can eat anything he wants without looking and worse for the wear. I am sure you can relate to this obscene concept. It's one of those body conscience pieces I write every so often.

ALL PAIN, LITTLE GAIN

When Trainer called me to say he could fit me into his morning schedule, I was thinking 8 o'clock would be the perfect beginning to my day. When he told me he'd see me at 6:30 on Thursdays and 6:00 on Fridays, I really had no option but to say yes. After all, the Doc had laid a guilt trip on me, and I knew this was my destiny. So, I started this morning. Trainer is pretty nice, not "juiced" like other trainers I have seen, and really patient with a lump of clay like me. We did some stretching exercises using muscles I never knew existed until they burned like Holy Hell. We also did some push-ups (which, to me, are popsicles that were made popular in the 50s), crunches, more push-ups and other stuff on this gross old gym mat. I also ran the treadmill, which was the easiest part of my morning. Cardio = no problem. The rest = death. I know it is supposed to take time for our bodies to adjust to the new "trauma" inflicted upon it. But, come on man, this is friggin' painful. Pain is cool in some situations, but not at my gym at 6:45 in the morning with Trainer probably laughing in his head about the fact I can only muster 30 push-ups broken into sets of two. Hell, I was surprised I could even do one. But, he reassured me that this thing would get easier and I have to trust him if I am going to shell out serious money for his services. But, damn --- I am in pain.

REWARDS

At the end of the day, no matter how much I complain about the pain, it feels damn good. I am extremely pissed off these days at everyone and everything, so taking it out at the gym seems reasonable. Trainer is a guy who understands why I am pissed at the World, and I was explicit when I told him his only job was to make me into a lean mean M-F'er. I told him I want my bite to equal my bark. I don't even know for sure why I was saying these things. I do know I meant them. My reward, as I see it, will be the day someone says to me, "What happened to you?"

And my reply will be, "Nothing. Nothing at all. Maybe something happened to you."

Bonus Blog Tuesday: Junk E-Mail Titles

2006-06-27T20:07:00.000-04:00

Just thought you'd enjoy some of the subject lines on some of my junk e-mail over the last few days....

Make Your Sperm sent "ProductionAndVolumeBigger"

Hotty4Luv sent "I CantStop CravingCOCK!"

Both ErectileSolutions and ErectileMedications sent "Viaggraa -- Ciialiiss -- Levvitrra"

Susy4Luv sent "IHeard YouWere LookingFor SomeFun"

Krafty Babe sent "Neglected by my Husband"

GreaterQuantities of... sent "AndGetRock HardErectionz"

31-HornyHousewife sent "_=AreYouUp For GreatSexx=_"

Michelle-4-Fun sent "ImLooking For The PerfectFck Buddy"

I want to thank all these people for loading up my mailbox with these important e-mails.

A Trip To The Dentist

2006-06-27T18:14:00.000-04:00

Damn, I hope I don't have a cavity! I've only had two my whole life. Shoot, I better not need braces! I was pretty much the only kid without them. My lord! What if I have gum disease? Or plaque? You know there's only a one letter difference between plaque and plaGue. What if I end up with some sort of plague rather than plaque? I better take the CO2. Wait, that would be wimpy! I hate that sound the tool makes when your teeth are being cleaned, and that pointy thing they use to stick at you. I don't want to be the damn dentist's lab rat today. I don't want to go, but the appointment card says I have to. My 24 hour cancellation notice has come and gone. I'll lose a ton of money if I don't see "Dr. Dreadful" today.

If you're like me, you probably hate going to the dentist. Because of my surgery, I have to have my teeth and gums checked every 3-4 months to make sure there isn't any plaque or, worse yet, bleeding. This means I get to sit in that uncomfortable chair with the glare of that light and the gloss of that mirror. It gives new meaning to "The Shining". I need help! "Let me out of here," I can hear myself saying.

"This sucks," I tell my friendly hygienist. She nods her head in agreement which does me no good because she is still about to "go evil" on me.

HERE'S THE REAL DEAL: IF YOU ARE LIKE ME, YOU PROBABLY BRUSH, FLOSS AND SWIG THAT MOUTHWASH AT THE VERY LAST SECOND BEFORE YOUR APPOINTMENT. YOU WANT TO MAKE A GOOD IMPRESSION. HAH! WE'RE SCREWED. THEY'RE ON TO US.

So, that's my routine. Then, I show up at the real House of Blues. The Dental Dungeon. The Palace of Pain. It sucks. Every last minute of it... except the very end.

"Nigel, your teeth look better than I've seen them in a very long time. Your gums look great," exclaimed my friendly hygienist, who I am beginning to like more and more.

Scorecard. No cavities. No braces. No gum problems. No plaque. No plague. Chompers are in tip-top shape. All is well in the hell I call Dr. Dread's place.

If a Picture Paints a Thousand Words...

2006-06-26T02:25:00.000-04:00

...then my little roadtrip produced two (for the price of one, you might say)....... Yes, this is the same place, and no, I didn't pull over (except to take the picture, of course).

That's it. I'll leave it up to you guys to write the rest.

It's Party Time, People!

2006-06-23T07:45:00.000-04:00

Nigel is gone for the weekend. I am at the K9 motel. We'll both be back Sunday night. For now, then, Goodbye. Adios. Au revoir. Auf wiedersehen. Ciao and Tata.

My Favorite Superhero

2006-06-22T22:16:00.000-04:00

"Superman Returns" hits theatres next week -- even in IMAX 3D. I couldn't be happier. I have been a devotee to Superman as long as I can remember. I loved watching George Reeves play Superman in the 1950s TV series. Please note: I saw these in reruns. I am only 32. I remember my parents taking me to the original Superman movie with Christopher Reeve back in 1978. It thrilled me. Superman, by any means, should be my favorite superhero.

But, he isn't. My favorite superhero, strange as it seems, is Plastic Man. I was six-years-old, and it was my favorite Saturday morning cartoon (more than The Smurfs, and back when they had cartoons). The cartoon only lasted a year, but i was fun. For those of you who know more about comics than cartoons, you'll be more able to speak to Plas' aptitude.

Otherwise, Wikipedia states, "Plastic Man's powers are derived from an accident in which his body was bathed in an unknown industrial chemical mixture that also entered into his bloodstream through a gunshot wound. This caused a body-wide mutagenic process that transformed his physiology, possibly granting him virtual immortality as he also does not age, or does so at a rate greatly slowed compared to ordinary humans."

"Plastic Man can stretch his limbs and body to superhuman lengths and sizes. These stretching powers grant Plastic Man heightened agility enabling him flexibility and coordination that is extraordinarily beyond the natural limits of the human body. He can contort his body into various positions and sizes impossible for ordinary humans, such as being entirely flat so that he can slip under a door, or using his fingers to pick conventional locks. He can also use it for disguise by changing the shape of his face. As Plastic Man can alter his bodily mass and physical constitution at will, there is virtually no limit to the sizes and shapes he can contort himself into. There is no known limit to how far he can stretch his body. The only limitation he has relates to color, which he cannot change without intense concentration."

"Plastic Man's powers extraordinarily augment his durability. He is able to withstand corrosives, punctures and concussions without sustaining any injury (although he can be momentarily stunned). He is resistant to high velocities that would kill an ordinary person and is also resistant to blasts from energy weapons. His bodily mass can be dispersed, but for all intents and purposes it is invulnerable."

In short, Plastic Man is "The Man".

By the way, Plastic Man became so popular that he is definitely food for folklore on the web now. I am including this link for your enjoyment. It's for adults only, but it's hysterical.

http://www.starterupsteve.com/swf/plasticman.html

A Trip to the Pharmacy (Funny)

2006-06-21T21:45:00.000-04:00

I love going to my pharmacy. The two pharmacists are drop dead gorgeous. Now, this shouldn't be a pre-requisite for enjoying your pharmacy, but it doesn't hurt either. In fact, I hope they somehow know about my blog because I want them to know I shamelessly fawn over them. Anyway, a long time ago I was taught you should always know your banker and your pharmacist by name. Don't ask me why, but I guess it's supposed to be good business practice.

As you can imagine, I use my trips to flirt with one of the women -- who is married -- and the other woman who I'd like to date. It's all good. They like me a lot because I am not some crotchety old fart demanding their medicine. I am young and polite. They can relate to me. We have things in common outside of our age range. I can go in there and shoot the bull with them any time I want.

So, there's nothing quite like those would-be "embarrassing" times when you have to buy condoms, KY, etc. It used to be funny with the old lady cashiers, but now it's even better. I always like to shop on a late Friday afternoon (even when I don't need them), and say "So, what are you guys doing this weekend?" as they pack up my purchases. They always smile and say they have plans or something like that.

I always smile back and say, "Gee, thanks. I hope you have a really nice weekend."

It never fails. We still have respect for each other, but I can tell they're (pardon the use of the next word) titillated. I always wonder what they are saying about me after I leave, or even what they are thinking. Maybe they just think I am the freak I am. But, they still love to see me the next time I drop in.

The next time is even funnier (to me). Several years ago, I had some serious surgery which requires me to take some medicine that can mess with my system. After the surgery, my doctor prescribed Viagra so there wouldn't be any "down time" (pun totally intended). It turns out, in case you were wondering, that the stuff is a wonder drug. Some women don't necessarily appreciate it, but all my guy friends are getting it now and love it. It's like our wonder drug. My beautiful pharmacists just gawk at me when I come to pick up the Viagra. One time, I even -- at room temperature -- exclaimed, "Is my Viagra ready?" Obnoxious? Not really, the way I said it... they could tell I was just kidding. It was damn funny. Guess you had to be there.

The pharmacists are now like my frat brothers in my frat house. We are members of a secret society, where they know everything about me based on the medicine I take. I know everything about them based on the way they react to my coquetry. Trust me, every time I flirt with them or talk to them, I learn more about their position in life -- their likes, dislikes; their wants and needs; their joys and sorrows.

We play out this routine quite often, as I am a frequent flier in the pharmacy. I often wonder what it's like for women to have to buy the condoms. Or, how do women handle buying tampons from a young male cashier? Or, do women buy lube? How do women deal with the sometimes embarrassing moments you have at the pharmacy? Do they, like me, make light of it? Or, in the end, is it just one huge hassle they'd rather burden the boys with?

You Make The Call! Obnoxious or Not?

2006-06-20T20:37:00.000-04:00

I am slowly learning a little cellphone etiquette. Like, for example, I turn the phone off or leave it in my car during dates. To me, it's just a sign of respect -- showing your date you are more interested in her than your buddy's crappy concurrent date. I walk outside with it when I receive a call at a restaurant. I turn it on "silent" or "vibrate" when I am in someone's home or at a social function or a party. Basically, I have re-trained myself. I used to walk and talk all the time. I would be the loudest one around. I would have my "beeper" (at the time) on the loudest and most annoying sound possible. By the way, I think cellphones should all play a universal and soothing sound, instead of a bunch of polyphonic hip-hop crap. Of course, then we'd all reach for our phones at the same time. But that would be a hell of a lot better than what I had to witness tonight.

The restaurant was unusually abuzz with customers, and it was a little difficult to hear yourself think. But, that doesn't mean -- in my humble opinion -- you should display your worst phone manners. Do you scream on the phone so your trivial thoughts can be heard by everyone in ear shot? Do you stand around a lot of people and let them hear your entire conversation which lasts a few minutes? Do you walk around the restaurant so everyone needs to hear about your latest degree or girlfriend or what have you? That's the type of obnoxious behavior I had to listen to and witness tonight. It was awful. It was like having Chatty Cathy talking your ear off.

In particular, this one man was walking back and forth talking about a ton of crap. He was loud, obnoxious, and incorrigible. I wanted to grab the phone from him and snap it shut. The way I see it, just because a restaurant is loud doesn't give anyone the right to invade my space with loud personal conversations. There are a ton of things I don't need to know, and many more I don't want to know.

In fact, sometimes I stare someone down if I can't handle their cellphone comportment. I just can't understand how come the call can't be taken outside or in another room. While, I'm at it, I can't stand people who grab their phones as soon as the airplane lands. You mean to tell me they can't wait until reaching the concourse? I promise nothing will happen from the time we land until the time we make it to the concourse. Come on! Help me out.

So, to review... Here are my 10 simple cellphone etiquette rules for 2006:

1. Use it only when you need it.
2. Try to keep your conversations to yourself. I don't give a damn about your life and issues.
3. Try vibrate sometime. Hell, you may even find you like it.
4. Restaurants, espeecially, are for dining with your friends, family, co-workers, etc. They're not meant for you to add another person to your group via cellphone.
5. Don't use it in the bathroom. That's just gross.
6. I know some of them make nice walkie-talkies, but all the time????
7. You don't need to have the loudest, most obnoxious ringtone (it's not a contest).
8. The camera function should not be used to take upskirt shots for your myspace page, or any other place. And, yes, I know this has happened.
9. Don't drive and dial (if possible) in states where that is still permitted.
10. Don't use it to cheat while you're gambling in Vegas. Yes, this happens. And, yes.. it can screw things up for the rest of us.

Now, there are always exceptions to the rules. There are always emergencies. But, in general, just keep the damn thing to yourself. My call is that it's just plain obnoxious.

Why I Hate When You Guys Want Me To Do Lists

2006-06-19T23:38:00.000-04:00

It's 55 questions long. Too much to think about. By popular demand, I have been asked to answer the following list of questions ....

1. What time do you get up? Whatever time Ike wakes me to go outside.
2. If you could eat lunch with one person, who would it be? Clinton, Bill.
3. Gold or Silver? Titanium
4. What was the last film you saw at the movies? maybe "Munich"... it has been so long
5. What is your favorite TV show? "Entourage"
6. What did you have for breakfast? A scone at Starbucks
7. Whom would you hate to be stuck in a room with? All of my exes at once.
8. What/who inspires you? My Mom
9. Beach, city or country? South Beach, Key West or Cuba
10. Favorite ice cream? Graeters
11. Butter, plain or salted popcorn? Buttered.
12. Favorite color? Cornflower blue.
13. What kind of car do you drive? Nissan Murano
14. Favorite Sandwich? Patty Melt in lieu of a cheesesteak at Geno's in Philadelphia
15. What characteristic do you despise? Cheaters.
16. Favorite flower? Lilies of the valley
17. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would you go? The Azores.
18. What color is your bathroom? Beige.
19. Favorite brand of clothing? Ermenegildo Zegna.
20. Where would you like to retire to? My Laz-ee Boy
21. Favorite day of the week? Hump Day
22. What did you do for your last birthday? I went to dinner at Parallax with my parents
23. Where were you born? Mt. Sinai
24. Favorite sport to watch on TV? Baseball.
25. Who do you least expect to (copy this)? The Company Bitch.
26. Person you expect to copy it first? Can't say.
27. What fabric detergent do you use? You'd have to ask my Mom.
28. Coke or Pepsi? Coca Cola Blak
29. Are you a morning person or a night owl? Both.
30. What is your shoe size? Like an 8.
31. What pets do you have? IKE!
32. Name as it appears on your birth certificate: Nigel Q. Vossap
33. Nicknames: N-Sap; The "Q"; NiVo (like TiVo)
34. Piercing: Yeah.... Uh, NO.
35. Eye color: Hazel
36. Favorite food: BBQ
37. Ever been to Africa: No.
38. Ever been to Europe: Nope.
39. Love someone so much it made you cry: Uggh, yes.
40. Been in a car accident: Fender benders.
41. Croutons or bacon: Croutons
42. Favorite restaurants: Parallax, Red, Matsu, Geraci's...
43. Favorite hot drink: Tea
44. Favorite fast food: Fatburger
45. Color of bedroom carpet: Beige
46. How many times did you fail your driver's test?: 0
47. Before this idea, who did you get a blog idea from?: My sister
48. Which store would you choose to max out your credit card?: Christ, just one? I'll choose Barney's.
49. What do you do when you get bored?: I blog.
50. Bedtime?: Depends who I am with
51. Ford or Chevy?: Whichever one has the most foreign parts and is made in America.
52. Last person you went to dinner with: Myself.
53. What are you listening to right now?: "The Tonight Show"
54. How many tattoos do you have: None.
55. Time I finished writing this list: 12:00 a.m. on the head.

A Baby Blunder in the Waiting Room

2006-06-19T00:16:00.000-04:00

This may come as news to some of you, but there was a point in time when parents could not find out the sex of their baby. Ultrasounds did not exist as they do today. There was this element of surprise in the waiting room. Pink and blue bubble gum cigars were the norm during celebrations after finding out a baby's sex. Bottom line: Until the baby's bottom was out, you just didn't know what you were having.

So, my Dad and a family friend bet a steak dinner on my sex. If I was a girl, the friend won. If I was "Nigel", my Dad got to feast on a big Porterhouse. Sounds cool to me. But, alas, my story gets better.

It's the 1:00 p.m. hour, and the doctor gets my head out (I am trying not to be too graphic here). He announces to the crowd in the waiting room -- my grandparents, my Dad, family friends, et al. (hell, it seems like everyone was there for this Event) -- that it looks like I am a beautiful girl. He says just my head is out, but I am beautiful. (Okay, insert your comments here)

My Dad's friend begins to celebrate. He thinks he has won this steak dinner. Then, at 1:56 p.m., the rest of me enters the world. Oops! I may have been pretty, but I came with some serious plumbing. No female stuff here. Game over. My dad wins. Our family friend has to suck up and deal with the fact I am a boy, until he gets his own girl just weeks later. As for me, I am still traumatized my parents told me the story in the first place. I think they should have just lied, told me that there was a prehistoric ultrasound and they knew I was going to be a boy from day one.

Boy, oh boy. The things that can adversely affect our lives. Have a nice day, girls and boys.

Father's Day

2006-06-18T11:50:00.000-04:00

Many people refer to today as a "Hallmark Holiday," another one of those days where card makers rake in a bunch of cash by coddling us with a myriad of cards for us to give to our dads. Right as it may seem, don't you think it wouldn't hurt to take one day out of 365 days to thank our fathers for what they have done for us? Of course, to be even-handed, many of us have fathers (and mothers for that matter) we would never want to claim as our own, and dread this day more than any other.

This is not the case for me. My Dad has been unbelievably giving and generous from day one. He invented a game we used to play when I was a child called "Pillow Boomy." He would sit at one end of his room holding a pillow in front of his chest. Then, he would bark out, "Pillow Boomy!" I would run, full speed ahead, and jump into his awaiting arms. Then, he was the strong tree in the family when my Mom was diagnosed (and thankfully survived) Hodgkin's when I was only 3-years-old. He taught me to hit, run, catch and throw. That was all nor naught, though, because I have the "creativity gene", and not the athletic one (which sucks sometimes). He guided me through some rough and rocky times. I can't begin to tell you how many times he saved my ass. He always used to say, "If you are telling the truth, we will always be here to help you out."

Five years ago, when I was a burned out TV producer, my Dad offered to let me come home and join him in business -- something that, for years, he said he never wanted to do. He always wanted me to go chase my own dreams. Now, he wanted me to come work with him. I jumped at the opportunity, because it meant getting to spend every day with him. I have learned that is not always the best thing in the world (because we can get at each other), but it is not the worst either. I have never been happier in work. I truly enjoy being around Dad every day, and I know he feels the same way about me.

Dad has had many interesting jobs that he talks about. He worked as a paper boy (in high school); he worked for the Cleveland Indians baseball club in marketing and ales back in the sixties (when there were only 17 people in the office, according to him); he worked for my mother's father in the plumbing and mechanical business; and then opened his own business which we run together now. And, like I said, he has stories for all of these jobs -- especially all the guys he hung out with in baseball.

Dad also has many friends -- some as far back as when he was born. He has golfing buddies; he has close ties to our family friends; he has even closer ties to members of his/our immediate family; and he has friends in business.

Like my Grandfather (his father this time) before him, I have seen people flock to Dad because he is a "people's person". He is someone that people love to hang out with and be around because he can always make you feel better about your lot in life. He can always make you laugh. He can almost always make you smile until it hurts.

And, he can always sit firmly, hold up that pillow, and scream "PILLOW BOOMY!"

Say What!?! (What Others Tell You When You Are Dumped or Dump Someone)

2006-06-17T19:04:00.000-04:00

"You're better off."

Ever find yourself asking your friends and family, "How come you didn't tell me that while I was going out with him/her? It would have been so much easier."

The response, most likely is, "You have to make decisions for yourself, and we didn't want to interfere, and it isn't fair to you if we say something about someone you love..." BLAH FUCKING BLAH.

I can't remember any relationship I have ever been in where my friends and family don't come crawling out of the woodwork when it is over. They jump at the chance to take a swipe at the Ex. Are they trying to make me feel better? Are they trying to make themselves look clairvoyant? What is it that they are trying to accomplish by telling me "We never liked him/her anyway," or "They just weren't right for you." GREAT.

After the breakup, this always makes me feel so much better. Hell, I am at the point when I am pretty disappointed if they don't validate my feelings at the end of the day. By now, I am resigned to the fact they are not going to bail me out before I bail myself out. Could they say something during the relationship? NO. OBVIOUSLY NOT. They save the ammo for the end (in most cases). Yeah, they may nudge me once in a while, but I am too stubborn for it to make a difference.

Maybe that's why my friends and family use a congratulatory "You're better off" in the end. They know I'll never listen to them in the middle.

Overheard at the Ghetto Grocery Store

2006-06-16T19:55:00.000-04:00

I was fresh out of H2O the other night around 10:30, so I decided to go to the "Ghetto Grocery Store" down the street. It;s about the only one open close to me. Now, don't get me wrong. It's not really in the ghetto, but it is a "ghetto grocery store" compared to the other ones around here. I love going late at night because you can always count on finding society's miscreants and artistes. They lurk everywhere, and it's cool to listen to them and watch them. Call me the Ghetto Grocery Store Stalker if you will. Anyway, sometimes I engage these people in conversation -- especially when they see me peering into their grocery cart of goodies. So, Ghetto Grocery Store has cut down on late-night employees, and that means longer checkout lines because the express self-checkout has been shut down too, and only two lines remain open for dozens of late-night shoppers. It's kind of like getting to the amusement park too late, and the line to your favorite ride has been terminated. Check that. It's exactly like that. But, now you're stuck in line with these people, and there's nothing to do but grin and bear it if you can. As you know, I am a creature of habit, so there's no way I am leaving Ghetto Grocery Store without my stash of H2O. It's about all I drink, so I'll be lost without it. After all, I learned at WW that "the clearer the pee, the better for me." I am totally off track here. Focus, dammit. Focus. So I am in line and these two girls are behind me. They are extremely giddy and giggly, although not in a suspicious manner. I want to know what they are talking about. I need to know what they are talking about, so my Eavesdropping Ears pop up, and I hone in on their conversation. The one girl, obviously talking about her boyfriend, tells her friend, "I asked him if he wanted any ice cream or anything like that, and he said I was sweet enough for him." Now I start to laugh too. This must be one of the oldest tricks in the book. I am looking back at these two girls, grinning -- acknowledging my eavesdropping. She kept going about how great her boyfriend was. On and on. The line was long so I had to hear this for quite a few minutes. I am thinking to myself this boyfriend guy is such a TOOL. I pipe up, "You have this guy so whipped," after she continues to brag about all the things he does for her. I'm thinking the TOOL likes to get INTO THE SHED if you know what I mean. She begins to defend him. Referring to his comment about how sweet she was, I say "Don't you know we have these lines written down on a note card we pull out of our pockets for occasions just like this when you call us from the grocery store? It's just another one of our 'perfect' lines." Again, she defends him, all the while laughing with me because she knows she has found the Good Humor Man in line at the Ghetto Grocery Store. So, again I say, "Look, you have him so whipped. Wait, he's more than just whipped. He's whooped!" She laughed. Her friend laughed, and even the guy in front of me -- who had also turned on his eavesdropping ears laughed too. We continued to joke while we worked our way through the line. It was the stuff standup is made of. But hey, at the end, it's another victory for us. You bought our "tool" line -- hook, line and sinker.

New and Improved

2006-06-16T03:25:00.000-04:00

So what that it's 3:22 in the morning? I am a night owl when it comes to this stuff. Welcome to the new and improved Strange Places Strange Faces Blog. Pardon our dust while we continue to remodel in an effort to better serve you.

Nigel Meets Mr. CompUSA Helper (3rd Person Account)

2006-06-15T21:44:00.000-04:00

Nigel is HTML dumb. So, he learns about some software that could help save his ass and make his blog look better than any other. And, since Nigel has ego issues (as you all well know by now), he has to find this amazing stuff. So, Nigel goes to his friendly neighborhood CompUSA. For those "not in the know", CompUSA is this cool computer store with lots of computers, software, hardware, cameras and other crap. Nigel doesn't really go there that often, because he just gets by on his Sony VAIO computer, circa 2001. He is a creature of habit. But, I digress. Here's what happens:

Nigel finds the alleged software tutorials for HTML. Then, he is approached by Mr. CompUSA helper man, who is wearing his neatly washed red shirt and standard issue khaki pants. Mr. CompUSA helper man asks Nigel if he needs help. Now, Nigel, being a typical guy, wants help as much as he would stop at a gas station and ask for directions. But, this time, Nigel is in a bind. Remember, he wants his blog to look better than all others. So, there are like five programs available. So, he explains his situation to Mr. Helper Man and asks for some advice.

Nigel: "Which one will help me make a kick-ass blog?"
Mr. Helper Man: "Honestly, they're all crappy."
Nigel (in disbelief at this honesty): "What do you mean?"
Mr. Helper Man: "Look, go home, get on the web, use Google and you will find everything you need to know."
Nigel: "Wow. Thanks a lot."

Nigel has rarely if ever seen a store employee honest enough to tell him not to buy something in the store. Nigel saves a good 20-50 bucks and is happy as can be.

Now, Nigel goes home and gets on the computer. No luck. He can't figure out this HTML crap to save his life. Enter one of his favorite blogger buddies, Mere. She is sweet and kind and knowledgeable. Nigel uses all of this to his advantage, and Mere guides Nigel through the process. Now, at least he has links on his website. If yours is missing, it's an accident he will rectify. Just let him know, and he will gladly link you.

Nigel-noia

2006-06-14T21:23:00.000-04:00

Here's a fresh little secret from your friend Nigel: I broke off my engagement earlier this year. I was supposed to get married in August. I loved "X", but I knew we could never have a happy life together even though we never really had a fight, were best friends, etc. It wasn't a case of cold feet. I just knew that marrying X would not be good for either one of us in the long run, so I made the toughest call of my life -- calling it off.

So, this week I have been plagued by Nigel-noia -- my own personal name for my paranoia. You see, even though X lives right around the corner from me, and even though we ended things as amicably as possible, I have not seen her since the breakup. We have spoken for just a few minutes since this whole thing took place.

So, the Nigel-noia thing is that every time I see her make of car, I think she is inside. And, I just want to avoid it. I am at the point where I am numb to what has happened, and I don't want to see or talk to her. Every time I see the Honda, I think she's behind the wheel. I do my best to get in another lane, or lag behind, or pull ahead. Anything but get stuck with her next to me at a light, or glaring at me as we are next to each other.

Now that I started thinking about it, I know I am destined to see her. Like I said, I have nothing to really say to her. I am happy that we have gone our own ways. I am pretty shocked that I haven't run into her yet, but happy about that too.

The moral of my Nigel-noia is that I should pay more attention to the real road, and less attention to that other road I didn't take when I broke things off earlier this year.

Screw "Asshole" Ann Coulter

2006-06-13T20:57:00.000-04:00

I am a BOLD BLUE liberal. I am not a wacky one, but I am one who supports the DNC and its many causes including health, social services, education, the environment, women's reproductive rights, the budget, gay rights, and many more. Now, I have to admit I have CONSERVATIVE friends. Some of these nim-wits even voted for Bush, not once but twice! I still talk to them. I don't listen to any of their political propaganda, but I do have lunch with them from time to time.

So, here's what I am telling them today about one of their "favorite pundits". ANN COULTER IS ONE OF THE BIGGEST FUCKING ASSHOLES IN THIS COUNTRY, AND SHE OWES A HUGE APOLOGY TO THE WIDOWS OF 9/11 VICTIMS. She makes me sick. She is an asshole. And, I am about to explain why:

Here are some of the things Ann said in her new book "Godless: The Church of Liberalism", and here are some of the things she meant. By the way, this writer in no way condones trashing the first amendment. Coulter has just as much a right to write her book as I do to write my blog. However, her stuff is totally inflammatory. It is dangerous speech, and it must be stopped. IMMEDIATELY.

Coulter writes: " I've never seen people enjoying their husbands' deaths so much."

Coulter means: "Let's say I go out every night, I meet a guy and have sex with him. Good for me. I'm not married." (Geraldo Live 6/7/00)

Now, if that doesn't say something about Coulter's cavalier view on marriage, what does? She doesn't know the first thing about marriage or being a wife, so how can she pretend to know what it's like to be one of these widows? By her book's account, you would think all she wants to do is convert these widows to her lifestyle.

This selfish bitch, in referring to a group of New Jersey widows said they are acting as if the terrorist attacks happened only to them.

This is how she defended this crap when questioned about it by Matt Lauer on The Today Show last week:

LAUER: So if you lose a husband, you no longer have the right to have a political point of view?

COULTER: No, but don't use the fact that you lost a husband as the basis for being able to talk about, while preventing people from responding. Let Matt Lauer make the point. Let Bill Clinton make the point. Don't put up someone I am not allowed to respond to without questioning the authenticity of their grief.

LAUER: Well apparently you are allowed to respond to them.

Here is another example of her prose.

"And by the way, how do we know their husbands weren't planning to divorce these harpies?"

Bitch, bitch, bitch.

How can she be so presumptuous as to hypothesize that these women were planning to divorce their husbands? In 2002, the U.S. census bureau predicted that half of every American marriage will end in divorce. However, New Jersey (where these women are from) ranked 17th in the country for divorces, with only 3.5 divorces per thousand. Those numbers bode well for these widows, and not so well for Coulter. I may, at best, give her one divorce. But, to issue a blanket statement saying these women may have been planning to divorce their husbands (and by the way the men just happen to die in the worst terrorist attack on US soil) is pure bullshit.

And, Coulter is bullshit. I can not tell you not to buy her book, because that goes against my belief in the First Amendment. However, at the same time I CAN tell you that she is, was and always will be a waste of our time, money and airwaves.

I encourage you to read other bloggers entries on Ann.

A Kidnapped Blogger

2006-06-13T13:55:00.000-04:00

According to our records, yesterday was the first time since May 23, 2006 that no blog appeared in this space. We have kidnapped your blogger and are holding him for a very small ransom. If you ever want to read him again, make a short comment saying how much you enjoy him and which column you enjoyed the most. With any luck, he says he'll write about why Ann Coulter is such a c*nt or why we should have left the President's ass in Baghdad today. But, unless you bloggers respond, Nigel will be kaput.

Shrink Speak

2006-06-11T23:44:00.000-04:00

I love "Shrink Speak". It's the stuff I commonly refer to as psycho-babble bullshit. However, once in a while, some of the "stuff" resounds within me. So, I was pleasantly surprised when I heard the following: "When you speak with someone, people may not always remember what you say, but they will always remember how it makes them feel."

Deep Thinking. It's the grown-up version of "Sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me." And, it's a damn good thing to think about. Here are some classic examples:

1. When you breakup with a boyfriend/girlfriend, the words may bounce off of them, but the feeling will stay with them for a very long time, if not forever.

2. When you use racist, sexist or otherwise bigoted remarks toward another individual. I don't necessarily remember why this kid called me a "kike", but I do remember the streak of anger that raged through me at the time.

3. Conversely, (in a good way), you may not remember the words surrounding the first time they say "I love you", but you will always remember that feeling that jumped inside of you.

4. Has anyone ever called you fat? You may not hear the words EXACTLY, but you can feel the scars for years.

5. Has anyone ever called you stupid? SAME THING.

Words can be like a bodkin or blanket to our souls. Sometimes they wound us, sometimes they comfort us. In the end, though, it's how we use those words that will be remembered...not just the words themselves. I am as guilty as anyone else of using words as either bodkins or blankets.

That's why we're taught that sticks and stones may really break our bones, but names WILL NEVER HURT US.

Nigel Uploaded

2006-06-10T17:55:00.000-04:00

Appetizers are cool.

Oh, The Money I Have Lost on First Dates!

2006-06-09T22:50:00.000-04:00

REMINDER: PLAY THE STRANGE PLACES STRANGE FACES CHALLENGE AND WIN $50

Here's how it works. For every new person you send to my blog who makes a comment, you get a point. The person has to make a reference to the fact you sent them to the site. That's how you get your point. In turn, they can also participate in the challenge. You can not vote for yourselves if you land here by accident. And, you can not vote for me if I directed you here. As the Challenge Creator, I can not win. The contest will end July 4. The blogger with the most points gets $50.00. It's that easy. This is a challenge that I am offering on my own. The rules and regulations are as stated above. Anyone is eligible. There is no such thing as "Void Where Prohibited." However, the prize will be paid in American Dollars. ANY QUESTIONS SHOULD BE DIRECTED TO MY E-MAIL ACCOUNT ON MY PROFILE PAGE.

Whoever said "You never have a second chance to make a first impression" wasn't kidding. That's why I always think a first date should be a mix of perfect things -- the right person, the right place, nice chemistry, good conversation, etc. Unfortunately, the right place is usually my downfall. You see, one of my greatest vices is a good meal. That means a nice restaurant. A nice restaurant usually means good spirits or a great bottle of wine. It means a shared appetizer or two. It involves entrees with names you can't pronounce. There is a rich dessert at the ending. Oh, and by the way, I NEVER EVER let the girl pay. So, the tab is never alarming, because I have dug my own grave with this behavior over the years.

So, what if the date doesn't work out? What if she never wants to see me again? What if my LEO grandiosity kills me? Was it a waste of time, a waste of money, both or neither? I submit that, in the end, I wasted some money. Now, if I count up all of those dates over the years, I have cost myself thousands of dollars. THOUSANDS. Not just hundreds. The worst part is I really have a lot of hole-in-the-wall/dive restaurants I enjoy more than anything else. But, in my pea brain, I have decided it won't be good enough for a first date.

Hell, we all know dinner and a movie is awkward for a first date, because you shouldn't sit in a movie theatre for two hours with someone you don't know that well. Going to a concert or a sporting event can be nice, but costly as well. Like I said, I would NEVER ask the girl to pay, so I am just S.O.L.

Bottom line. If you have a nice girl for me who likes fine dining and is willing to say she'll go on a second date with me before our first, send her along.

Why the Internet is a Strange Place

2006-06-08T22:13:00.000-04:00

The Internet is a very strange place.

For instance, I was just on one of those infamous dating websites where more than 13,000 people were on at the same time. I randomly happened to meet a girl from Denver whose father is a first cousin to my family's best friend. What a small world the Web can be.

Lately, I have been watching the Dateline NBC pieces on Internet predators -- men who take to chat rooms, find "alleged" teenage girls and set up to meet them only to be busted by the cops. Last night, it turned out one guy -- who was a 6th grade teacher, nonetheless -- set up a meeting with a "13-year-old." Now, the Internet has taken us into an age where sickos are truly exposed. myspace.com is probably one of the best sites out there for predators and the like. Those of you with kids can probably attest to the fact it is one of the first sites you want to block out because of its disgusting (at best) adult content (and I am no prude).

Then, there are some of my favorite places to visit -- places that I have found mostly through some strange Google searches. Check out the encyclopedia-of-sex.com. Here's a site that offers hundreds of slang terms for things some of us like to do. Hell, you can enter any term into Google and learn more than you wanted to about the subject. Sometimes, it freaks the hell out of me.

Want to find people, addresses, approximate birth dates and the like, try zabasearch.com. It lists a series of my addresses dating back to my time in Miami more than 10 years ago. Strange.

When I first went away to college, my roommate had AOL 2.0. We shared it. It cost next to nothing (if anything) at the time. There wasn't much out there 15 years ago, but it has obviously changed very quickly, and I am not sure that is for the good.

Is exposing some of the things that were already out there better for society or worse? Maybe we were better off when these people just did these things on their own. Maybe the Internet has given them greater access to manifest their perversions. I am not sure. I do know I spend way too much time on here, and I run into too many dicks. There are too many people on here who I would never count as friends. There are too many people on here that I would definitely look at as enemies.

This stupid Internet (sometimes) is definitely a case of buyer beware. If we spend too much time here, we may be held hostage. If we watch ourselves and those around us, we have a better chance of making our little Internet a better place.

By the way, doesn't anyone want to meet the challenge?

PLAY THE STRANGE PLACES STRANGE FACES CHALLENGE AND WIN $50

If Nigel Wrote a Damn Personal Ad

2006-06-07T20:33:00.000-04:00

Let's have some fun. I thought you might wonder what a personal ad would look like if I wrote it. I wonder what type of response I would get. Hmmm..... Here we go.

"26 y.o. short, hairy and obese man looking for love in all the wrong places. I need a non-BBW to please me. I just lost my job at a kinky toy store. I was caught stealing, but I still have plenty of toys for you. I have a big heart to go along with my 5'8" 320 lb. frame. I like to drink, smoke weed and eat green jello (it's an aphrodisiac). I like reality TV shows. My favorite is "Biggest Loser" about some fat people trying to get thin. I was once on TV for eating 27 hot dogs in a minute at Bert's hot dog stand. That was a record, until I broke it the next year with 28. The cameras weren't there for that. But enough about me. My ideal woman has a good job, no family, no friends, no one to judge me. She has a good job or a huge inheritance so I don't have to work anymore. She likes to have a lot of sex. She takes excellent care of her body. She is my polar opposite, except she can eat pints of ice cream with me and not get fat. She exercises. She has a college degree (I don't). Please contact me. I am so lonely, and I am the perfect guy for you."

That's pretty close to being my ideal personal ad. Think anyone would take it seriously? After all, there is NOTHING like the truth....

By the way, doesn't anyone want to meet the challenge?

PLAY THE STRANGE PLACES STRANGE FACES CHALLENGE AND WIN $50

Why Won't Women Show a Short Guy Some Love?

2006-06-06T17:19:00.000-04:00

I am short by all means. That's 5'7" on a good day. I'm comfortable with this. It has been like this since grade school when I was always thrown in the front row of class pictures just so I could be seen. I was always the last one chosen for sports teams because everyone assumed my small stature meant I couldn't be as competitive as the big guys (they happened to be right in this case). But, most of my life, I have just been viewed as "the short guy." Now, I am cool with that to a point. You see, in my expert opinion, I think taller women should give me a chance to go out with them. (insert crass remark about being horizontal here)

After all, I once live with this woman who was 5'10", and we had a great relationship. She never looked at me as "the short guy", or her "short boyfriend." My best friend in 6'2"+. He has towered over me my entire life, and I am just used to it. But, I will never get used to being turned down by taller women just because I am short. This has been bothering me so much of late that I asked a female friend what the deal is.

"Women like taller men because it makes them feel more safe and secure."

Bullshit. You have got to be kidding me. If height, rather than our hearts have become the moral compass to feeling safe and secure than we have a real problem. Now, I know what you skeptics are thinking. Nigel is nuts. Perception is everything. Women just can't be with a shorter man. But, I have already proved that hypothesis to be untrue. So, if I have broken down the barrier once, why can't I break it down again?

Yes, I am short. But, I make up for it in a number of other areas that are equally or more important. Randy Newman sang that song, "Short People", in which he crooned, "Short people got nobody to love." Maybe what he really should have written was "Short people got nobody TALL to love."

PLAY THE STRANGE PLACES STRANGE FACES CHALLENGE AND WIN $50

I Surprised My Shrink

2006-06-05T23:25:00.000-04:00

I made a declaration today that surprised even Shrink.

"I can't help that I just want to be an asshole."

He was so taken aback that he had me repeat myself so he could scribble it down on that pad of paper he uses to take notes about me during our unusual conversations about everything from why I don't like cole slaw to why I like sitting alone in the corner of a fancy restaurant, dressed in a suit, assessing the other patrons around me.

I couldn't help myself from feeling proud about my accomplishment. After many years of therapy, I think this is the first time anyone ever stopped me to repeat a quote. Hell, I've had female therapists squirm while I describe sexcapades in sordid details. I've had many other strange conversations with current Shrink, but this one just took the cake today. Either that or he was in a really unusual mood and I hit him at the right moment. Either way, I have been delighted the rest of the day.

However, there is something wrong here. Do I really want to be an asshole? What will it accomplish? How will I be perceived by those around me? In fact, why do I have this idea in the first place? (These are some questions he put into my head.) The answer, right now, is yes. I want to be an asshole because to me it is the only way that I can get things done, and the only way that people will understand when I mean business. I explained to said Shrink that it was how I worked my way up the ladder as a TV producer, and that lately I have felt stymied as a construction executive. He still wasn't buying it.

Look. I do community service. I volunteer for a number of charities. I have a lot of friends. I think I am generally well liked, so why can't I be that asshole? What makes it impossible or improbably for me to live separate but equal lives. Some of us have two families. Others lead different lives at night. Some work two different jobs. It's all about persona. I want to have personae just like everyone else. It's just that I want to end up as an asshole humanitarian.

See, "I can't help that I just want to be an asshole."

Is that too much to ask for?

PLAY THE STRANGE PLACES STRANGE FACES CHALLENGE AND WIN $50

Nigel The Bumbling Idiot

2006-06-04T22:45:00.000-04:00

Given my experience in broadcasting, and my brushes with fame in South Beach, I figured I'll share a story with y'all that clearly indicates that even I could be a bumbling idiot at some points. Celebrities never really intimidated me, because I used to see them all the time and I recognized them as ordinary people for the most part. I think my story about the Estefans is proof of that. Meeting Wilt Chamberlain was a great example. But, like others, I have had a moment or two where I look like a real bumbling idiot.

Here's the scene: I am walking down this street in Coconut Grove and I see a man on the corner wearing what appears to be a straw dress. He has this huge handbag, and like a feathery thing in his hair. He is on his cellphone, waving his hand like a wild man, trying to flag down his friend on the next street corner. Now, most of the time I would figure this guy would be spending his nights working at Lucky Cheng's, a crossdressers cabaret restaurant in Miami at the time. But, upon further inspection, it was none other than Steven Tyler -- the lead singer for the band Aerosmith. He was on his cellphone, and I just had to meet him because I am a huge Aerosmith fan. So, here's how my bumbling idiotic rant goes:

N: Aren't cellphones cool? You can use them to wave down your friends who are just a block away.

S: Yeah (with some hesitation). I don't know what I would do without mine. (He looks at me like I am some young weird kid (which I am))

N: You know, I am a big fan of yours. I have seen you guys in concert.

(Now he looks at me as if the person who asked him the weird question about cellphones and the person who confessed to being his fan are two totally different people)

S: You are? Thanks.

N: May I have your autograph? (I NEVER ASK FOR ANYONE'S AUTOGRAPH)

S: Sure. What's your name?

N: Nigel.

Then, Steve Tyler (of Aerosmith fame) signs this napkin "To Nigel- Best wishes, Steve Tyler"

I thanked him, and we went our separate ways, but I'll never forget the chance meeting with him and his straw dress that day. Now, if I could only find that signed cocktail napkin! (One of the reasons I rarely get autographs -- they get lost!)

INTRODUCING MY NEWEST BLOG: EAT, DRINK, HAVE SEX

"Eat, Drink, Have Sex" will debut tomorrow night. The collection, as you might imagine, will be a little different than my daily blog. It will start as a weekly blog and may expand in the future.

PLAY THE STRANGE PLACES STRANGE FACES CHALLENGE AND WIN $50

Tease

2006-06-04T17:49:00.000-04:00

I always like to tease you guys, so check it out....

Later today, learn more about my forthcoming blog, "Eat, Drink, Have Sex", plus how you can win $50 for playing the "Strange Places Strange Faces" Challenge.

Come back later today (Sunday) and I'll explain everything in detail.

"I"

2006-06-03T21:24:00.003-04:00

With respect and admiration for a fellow blogger, I offer you the following: (idea courtesy of Stephanie's Song of the Day)

I
I AM: home alone on another Saturday night.
I SAID: "I miss her" when I really don't.
I WANT: people to understand me.
I WISH: Big Box stores didn't chase all the Mom and Pops away.
I MISS: Uncle Lenny.
I HEAR: the speed of traffic outside my window.
I WONDER: if the "Right One" will ever come along.
I REGRET: nothing.
I AM NOT: afraid of commitment.
I DANCE: like Fred Astaire.
I SING: in the shower only.
I CRY: more often than you might imagine.
I AM NOT ALWAYS: kind to others.
I MAKE WITH MY HANDS: gourmet meals.
I WRITE: for enjoyment.
I CONFUSE: one twin with another.
I NEED: to remember the important things in life.
I SHOULD: have more patience.
I START: making differences.
I END: with a bang!

Visit Stephanie's site, and view her list from 31 May. It's poignant, as well as some of her other entries.

Idiot Haiku Friday Volume IV

2006-06-02T15:53:00.000-04:00

This is part of a continuing series begun on April 21, 2006. I hope you enjoy.

The car is running
on a crappy snowy day
Is George Clooney cold?

I have a pink tongue
stuck to a frozen lamp post
My dog is barking

What is the girl's name
who likes to play in the leaves
the paper has lines

I hear funky tunes
It smells like a springtime rain
What is for dinner?

You must be joking
The girl eats green eggs and ham
Fall is not winter

I like to snow ski
My girlfriend is beautiful
if she existed

The flag is waving
I see the ice cream melting
Scratch my damn back please

She parties too much
It is so freezing outside
What am I to do?

Do you eat peanuts?
Baseball should be played on grass
That girl smokes a joint

Is he up or down?
I know when bluebirds fly high
Go eat a hot dog

The sex was divine
My car broke down on the ice
My blog is funny

The hurricane hit
Chili peppers make me sneeze
Lick that lollipop

She never calls me
The parking lot is flooded
My hair is curly

The waves hit his toes
I know that they were in love
I like your cartoon

You are a sucker
Get your barbecue items
Go see a movie

Let's make out right now
I like playing in Fall leaves
I played with the dog

Do not chastise me
Stone Crab is best at New Year's
I never loved you

AND FINALLY.......................

I really love you
It is the dead of winter
Now I drink alone

Bonus Blog Thursday (SEX)

2006-06-01T21:58:00.000-04:00

I know. Two blog entries in one day. It's a lot of work. But, I was just thinking. I have been reading a lot of blogs lately, and they seem to be riddled with sexual frustration and tension. Maybe that's why we blog. Anyway, I have some advice for people.... as always, UNSOLICITED. Check it out: When you are done fornication (I love that word), don't ever ask "Was it good for you?" What a stupid question. The answer is always going to be "Yes." So don't be stupid. Don't put yourself through the task of getting some look from your partner like it sucked. And, if it truly did suck, and you have had any experience whatsoever, you should know. And, while I am at it, don't start telling your partner "This IS the BEST SEX I HAVE EVER HAD" right in the middle. Usually, that's bullshit. I know. I have used that false line before.... totally doesn't work. Finally, when you're all done, just don't talk about it. Be happy that it happened, and hope that it will happen again (and maybe even be better the next time).

DISSED BY MY OWN DOG

2006-06-01T21:33:00.000-04:00

The strangest thing happened to me yesterday. My normal routine when entering my home after work is to call out Ike's name. For those of you just joining my blog, Ike is my amazing nine-year-old Rottweiler. He's my best pal.

So, yesterday I dropped to my knees inside the door and called out Ike's name, hoping to get a little love. After all, it was a long day; Ike is very attentive and affectionate; Ike is very bright; Ike absolutely loves me.

So, it came as a great surprise to me when I called out his name, he started for me as he always does, but just kept on going. WTF? Can you believe that? I was dissed by my own dog. That is what my life has come to.

What ever happened to Man's Best Friend? Mine just passed me up for some food and water that was sitting there for him all day. Seems some things are more important than others.

People Purging (Like Spring Cleaning)

2006-05-31T22:03:00.000-04:00

It may be a little bit late for Spring cleaning, but it's never too late for "People Purging". What is "People Purging"? I think you know the answer. It's when we remove all of our cancerous friends from our lives. It's when we take the time to write-off every bad person in our life -- friends, family members, et al. Don't let anyone fool you into believing this isn't a good thing. It's not easy, but it is necessary if you want to maintain some sanity.

Examples.

1. Your "friend" who persistently asks you to do favors for them without thanking you or doing anything for you in return.

2. Your "friend" who gossips about you to your other "friends".

3. Your family member who lays out all the other family bullshit on YOU ONLY.

4. The doctor who never returns your phone calls when you really need him/her.

5. Your co-worker who uses you for just about anything and everything.

6. The boyfriend or girlfriend who abuses you in any way.

That's a good start. The entire point is that you have to occasionally take stock in who you are and what you need in your life. I think you'll find that if you know more about who you are, then you will know more about the people you need to and want to surround you. The people listed in my examples above are cancers. They eat away at us. They sap all of our energy. They retard our personal growth, and they create our own personal problems that make it more difficult to deal with these "friends" we need to "People Purge".

20 THINGS PEOPLE SHOULD TRY TO AVOID (THAT I HAVE TO COP TO)

2006-05-30T23:12:00.000-04:00

In random order....

1. Wearing black while walking on a dark street at night
2. Urinating in public
3. Telling your girlfriend how hot she looks while she keeps saying she looks like crap
4. Having sex in public during the day in front of people
5. Talking about religion or political beliefs on a first date
6. Letting your 100 pound Rottie sleep between you and your girlfriend/boyfriend
7. Shoplifting (Okay, I never actually did this one but it should be on the list)
8. Using a foreign language to say something bad about someone standing next to you (when you are speaking to someone else)
9. Voyeurism of any sort
10. Recreational Drugs
11. Picking your nose and eating it (I was 4. No one told me otherwise)
12. Taking someone else's college final exam for them (it was a football player (now in the NFL, by the way))
13. Riding their bicycles in between oncoming traffic
14. Putting anything in writing that can later come back and bite them in the ass (like this blog)
15. Breaking into your ex-girlfriend/boyfriend's e-mail account and screwing up her new relationship (this was years ago, but damn did it feel good at the time. She's now married, and I am happy for her.)
16. Purposely eating a few cloves of garlic and not brushing your teeth for a few days. Then, try going anywhere, sleeping with anyone, or doing anything. Sure, it "wards off spirits", but it wards off just about everything else as well.
17. Underage drinking using a fake ID to buy the beverages, get into the clubs, etc.
18. Barebacking the girl/guy you JUST MET at the bar
19. Drunk dialing (see separate blog on that one)
20. myspace.com for a zillion reasons (mostly illegal)

The Five W's and the H of My Day

2006-05-29T23:11:00.000-04:00

Thought I would share some fluffy stuff with you from my big holiday here in good old Cleveland.... These are answers to questions I am going to create myself, so I know the answers are going to be right.

Who did you eat dinner with? I ate dinner with my Mom, my Dad and my uncle.

What was the temperature today? It was the highest in 50 years, and the second highest ever (for Memorial Day). 88

When did you get up? I never went to sleep. I think when I got a couple winks, I was up at 10 before I went to sleep again.

Where do you actually live? A frequently asked question. I have a 1200 square foot apartment in suburbia.

Why do you blog? It keeps my mind off of a lot of other things.

How long does it take you to eat a large pizza from Geraci's on your own? About six minutes, when I am binging.

(Bail) Bonds

2006-05-28T23:52:00.000-04:00

Okay. This post will not be any fun for those of you who don't care about baseball. So, let me start here: Somebody bail Barry Bonds out of his fantasy world. When he hit his 715th home run today to pass Babe Ruth and become second on the all-time record list behind Hank Aaron, it personally made me sick. Let's be honest. Neither Ruth nor Aaron had "juice" (steroids) even available to them when they played. Neither had the technologies available to them today. Neither had to cheat to get ahead. Bonds is clearly a cheater. The Balco investigation, where his name has surfaced, will eventually provide more concrete evidence he was juiced for many of his 715 home runs. If you look at the shape of his body from his Pirate heydays to the shape of things now, there is clearly a difference. Now, granted, baseball has stiffened its penalties against users the last few years -- including random drug testing. However, that doesn't affect the fact that -- for quite some time -- Bonds was a user. In fact, the commissioner of baseball, Bud Selig, refused to recognize today as an historic event while banners unfurled and celebrations flared up in Bonds' home park in San Francisco where he hit the behemoth blast. Who knows if he can hang on to eclipse Aarons' record of 755? But, I do know this. We should all be bailed out of this Bonds charade. As my parents always taught me, cheaters never prosper.

Dr. versus Who Cares

2006-05-27T22:41:00.000-04:00

A friend of mine is a professor of English at John Carroll University here in Cleveland. We often sit at a local watering hole and discuss a number of subjects. Granted, I never had him as a professor. Hell, I never went to JCU. So, we got into this conversation about the appropriate way to address a professor. He has a doctorate, so I asked him if he liked to be called "Doctor". He emphatically replied "No."

So, I asked him, "What do you like to be called, "X"?

He answered, "I'll answer to 'Hey, you!' at this point, but not 'Doctor.' 'Doctor' is someone who goes to medical school......"

So, it got me thinking. I hated my professors who wanted me to called them Doctor this and Doctor that, as if they were high and mighty. Doctor should be a name reserved for those , for the most part, have Medical degrees.

Look, lawyers have Jurist Doctorates, but we don't address them as doctorates. Many other people have Ph.D.'s, but we don't even address them as Doctor. It's ridiculous. My friends who are truly doctors have been in medical school for a million years. They didn't work that hard to earn that title to be equated -- by title -- with some Professor who, quite frankly, is good enough for academia, but not for the real world (as was the case with many of my journalism professors).

So, who cares about someone who went to school for a few years to earn a doctorate versus my friends who worked their tails off for years to truly earn the title and respect that comes along with 'Doctor'.

BLOGGER IN DESPERATE NEED OF HELP

2006-05-26T23:44:00.000-04:00

I AM DESPERATE. MY ARCHIVE FUNCTION ON THE SIDEBAR HAS DISAPPEARED. WHAT THE HELL HAVE I DONE, AND CAN YOU GUYS HELP ME? THAT WAY, WE CAN GO BACK AND READ ALL OF MY OLD CRAP, TOO. PLEASE HELP ME! I AM SO DESPERATE. :)

Back to the Basics

2006-05-26T23:15:00.000-04:00

So why did I name this blog Strange Places Strange Faces?

First, I thought it was original.

Second, it was my intent to write about all the strange places I have visited/been, and all the strange places I have met/seen.

Third, it just made sense at the time.

Don't get me wrong. It still makes sense. It's just that I lost track of what I was supposed to be doing. I think most of you will agree that is probably a good thing. But, in the spirit of the blog, I am going to write about Strange Place(s) and a Strange Face(s).

It was the Summer of 1999. I was working as a TV news producer down in Miami, and a friend of mine was having a lavish birthday party, thrown by Gloria and Emilio Estefan, at a swank hotel. I had no idea what to expect when he invited me, last minute, to the party. I knew what to wear, and I had an idea some celebs would be there (my friend was just as ordinary as I am, but I think he was somehow related to the Estefans or a friend of theirs).

Obviously, there was security and I was a STRANGE FACE. They were imposing, and they looked me up and down like I was OUT OF PLACE. I felt like it too. I had been to South Beach parties before, but none like this. After I convinced these "gorillas" to let me in, I found my friend to wish him a Happy Birthday.

A couple hours, and several drinks later, I felt this tap on my back. "Nigel, I have some people I would like for you to meet."

"Fine," I said, half drunk and not really interested at this point.

"This is Gloria and Emilio Estefan."

I was wowed.

"So, you're a friend of David's?"

"Yes," I said, more alert.

"Any friend of David's is a friend of ours. Drink on us for the rest of the night. By the way, Nigel, these are our friends, Jon and Maribel Secada."

Okay, so now I damn near died. It was cool, and I was tripping. The breeze of the ocean was gentle, and hitting all of us in the right way. The music was loud. The people were totally cool, and we partied all night long.

My friends, those were the days. I was a strange face. It was a strange place. But, in the end, everything was totally comfortable and I felt like I really belonged.

Am I Really This Old?

2006-05-25T22:26:00.000-04:00

Recently, one of my friends introduced his toddler to me. "This is Mr. Vossap," he told the child.

"Can you say 'Hi' to him?"

"Hi, Mr. Vossap," the young boy grinned.

Jesus, I thought. When did I become my father? Only my father is Mr. Vossap. I am plain old Nigel. Seriously, when do we cross over from a simple introduction to a more formal introduction?

"It's okay. You can call me Nigel," I said to the boy.

I remember when I was that boy's age that my parents rule of thumb was that every adult was to be formally addressed unless they asked otherwise. So, in my childhood, most everyone was "Mr." and "Mrs.". Kind of like the Cunninghams from "Happy Days".

No kid would ever call them Howard or Marion.

My friend nearly glanced a hole through me when I told the boy he could address me as Nigel. Apparently, the boy is being taught to address everyone formally. Maybe I just don't get it, or maybe I am a little less uppity than my friends (whom I respect). At 33, please call me Nigel. Call my Dad Mr. Vossap. Loosen up. It's all good. Years from now, you are not going to want to feel like your parents either.

I Refuse to Write About Idol (So I'll Write About...)

2006-05-24T22:49:00.000-04:00

Two words: Taylor wins. I have called it for a long time (okay maybe a bit more than two words).

You can all write as much as you want to about Idol.

I am going to write about board games, and, in particular, Monopoly. I like Monopoly a lot because it awakens the competitiveness in me. I am looking at the millennium Edition of the game right now. I get really competitive when I play the game because I am willing to take a ton of risks and chances. I play aggressively. I love the cards. I love jail. I love mortgages, buying, selling, the whole damn thing.

There are a million facts you should check out at www.monopoly.com. The game is sold in at least 80 countries and dozens of languages. There are different versions of the game from college campuses to children's tv shows.... it even morphs into other games, etc.

Bottom line. It's an exceptional game. You can have amazing fun with your friends. Some people complain the game can last forever, but I suppose that is part of its allure. Further, in an age when DVD games are gaining popularity, Monopoly can take generations of Americans back to their youth. You can play it with your parents, grandparents, other friends and family. Since the game has been around more than 70 years, you can pretty much enjoy it with anyone. But, please, don't take advantage of the elderly!

Okay, so that's it. I like Monopoly, and I wish you would celebrate it too.

My Shortest Post Ever

2006-05-24T00:00:00.000-04:00

Hi.

Cocktail Hours and Other Crap

2006-05-22T22:48:00.000-04:00

Why do they call them cocktail hours when they never last an hour? They most always go over. Hell, I was at a wedding last year where the cocktail hour went nearly two hours. By the way, the hors d'ouerves trays were looking pretty empty at that point. Speaking of hors d'oeurves, why do we have to call them that? They're appetizers or treats or cheese and crackers or "some stuff to much on" or, best yet, finger foods. We don't need some fancy French name to describe our finger food anymore. Heck, when was the last time the French really did anything wonderful for us? Google "French hate U.S." and you might learn something. What's a nom de plume (I have one by the way)? Why does heartburn seem to be "chest pain" and not really part of our hearts? Um, aren't raisins shriveled grapes or something like that? Why do they call some snacks "junk food" when it's not "junk" at all? Why is a compact disc referred to as compact when it's a good 5 inches in diameter? Why do our clothes have to be sized? Doesn't it just make us feel good or particularly bad about ourselves? Do you think there's a way to make sure I use every letter of the alphabet in this blog? Is that a stupid question? Why do zebras have stripes? Why does the word xylophone start with an x? Do you think (having used q, z and x) that I used all the letter for my blog? Do you even care? When Will Rogers said "I Never Met A Man I Didn't Like", was that a load of bullshit or what? I have only been on the Earth nearly 33 years and there are plenty of people who could live without me just as I could live without them. Can't quotes be dumb sometimes? Maybe that's why we should all shut our mouths. But, then again, if we shut our mouths we'll never be able to enjoy that cocktail hour.

We Are All Just Pawns On The Chess Table of Life

2006-05-21T22:57:00.000-04:00

Follow me. Life is a huge game, and we are all but pawns. Even life and death are eventually a game, because we never know when it is our time to go. I remember a passage in a book I once read in high school where there was a sentence that said something like, "(our) birthdays are always known to us but not the days on which we are to die." So, here are just a few of the popular (mind) games I thought of today while driving around:

Who will be my friend?
How will I know if they are my friend?
How will they remain my friend?
How am I going to get a better grade?
How am I going to get into the college of my choice?
How am I going to get ahead in school?
How am I going to make the team?
How will I start on the team?
How will I get chosen for an activity I want?
How will I become President or head of a club?
What will it take for me to better than the person across the table?
How will I get the job I want at the place I want it?
How will I find the right boyfriend/girlfriend?
How will I keep the right boyfriend/girlfriend?
Will he call?
Will she call?
How can I win the damn lottery?

YOU GET THE PICTURE.

We are constantly asking the "How" questions (for the most part) about life and its offerings. "How" questions lead us right back to the game. The questions force us to answer, mostly, in rhetoric. For the most part, it's a game, and we just don't know. So, y'all, we just have to accept that we are pieces of the puzzle; that even life and death are -- at the end of the day -- a game; and, finally, most unfortunately, there just aren't any clear rules.

A Little Laughter (Courtesy: Bumper Stickers)

2006-05-20T18:56:00.000-04:00

I hate bumper stickers, because they usually slow me down as I try to read them. Plus, I usually hate their messages which make me look at the other driver with disdain. Plus, they often make your bumper look like some ungodly tattooed piece of rubbish. So, it's only natural that I came up with a perfect bumper sticker idea today. Oh, don't worry. It's now covered under intellectual copyright laws and crap like that. So, please don't try to produce it. Here's what I saw: "Proud parent of a Cub Scout". This figures, because everybody is a proud parent of someone, something or another when it comes to bumper stickers or someone is backing some politician, which leads me to my idea.

"Still proud that I voted for Bush"

Now here's an idea. How many people do you think would put this on their car? First, the car would be vandalized for sure. Second, no one would buy this stupid bumper sticker. No God-fearing Republican would even think to slap this bumper sticker on their car. Who in their right mind would want to admit they are still proud of their allegiance to a guy who took us to war under false pretenses, has cost us nearly 2500 troops, not to mention nearly 18000 wounded? Plus, he has this whole immigration thing hanging over his head, this C.I.A. appointment debacle, Karl Rove (in general), I. Lewis Libby... and on and on.

So, I suggest this bumper sticker. I dare anyone to slap it on.

Thou Shalt Plagiarize

2006-05-19T22:25:00.000-04:00

Okay. I admit it. I am a huge fan of the blog, "My Scattered Thoughts" which recently published a blog I am completely plagiarizing just as its author had done. Of course, this is my own stuff I am listing. So, am I really plagiarizing? And, do you really care? Let's have some fun for a Friday night.

10 Favorites
Favorite Season: Summer
Favorite Color: Pink
Favorite Time: 3 a.m.
Favorite Food: Barbecue (almost anything)
Favorite Drink: Knob Creek
Favorite Ice Cream: Ben & Jerry's Chubby Hubby
Favorite Place: The Outside VIP section at Pure Nightclub at Caesar's in Las Vegas
Favorite Sport: Baseball
Favorite Actor: Jeez. For the sake of argument, I'll put Sidney Poitier.
Favorite Actress: Reese Witherspoon

9 Currents
Current Feeling: Nymphomanic
Current Drink: Deer Park Bottled H2O
Time: 10:36 p.m.
Current Show on TV: None
Mobile Used: AT&T Wireless (now Cingular)
Windows Open: Blogger (Strange Places Strange Faces), Blogger (My Scattered Thoughts), Google
Current Underwear: Calvin Klein Striped Boxers
Current Clothes: White Socks, Black Jeans, Striped Button Down, Those Boxers
Current Thought: Who am I going to F**k next?

8 Firsts
First Nickname: Egghead
First Kiss: Summer camp, on a pathway
First Crush: Guys don't really have crushes, so I can't answer this crazy question.
First Best Friend: David
First Vehicle I Drove: A pickup truck my Dad let me use to learn how to drive
First date: "Making Mr. Right" (1987 movie)
First pet: Barnaby, an obnoxious black poodle

7 Lasts
Last drink: Deer Park Bottled H2O
Last kiss: My friend's wife's cheek
Last meal: Cajun chicken salsa salad from Pizzazz
Last Web Site Visited: Google
Last Movie Watched: Assault on Precinct 13
Last phone call: A friend who is in from out-of-town
Last TV show watched: American Inventor finale

6 Have you Ever...
Have You Ever Broken The Law: Hell yeah.
Have You Ever Been Drunk: Knob Creek and I are practically blood brothers.
Have You Ever Kissed Someone You Didn't Know: Guilty.
Have You Ever Been in the Middle/Close to Gunfire: Yes, during a jewelry robbery in Miami Beach when I was a TV producer.
Have You Ever Skinny Dipped: Does Having Sex in a Hot Tub count? Yes.
Have You Ever Broken Anyone's Heart: Unfortunately

5 Things
Things You Can Hear Right Now: My computer, traffic
Things You Can See Right Now: Deer Park Bottled H2O empty and full bottles, Febreeze, my home phone, my cellphone, my TV, some CDs, some books, assorted papers and bills, my Birks, bottlecaps, more junk...
Things on Your Bed: Dirty Clothes, Ike (my dog), sheets, lots of pillows, my blankey, my home phone (I have several), my remote control, dry cleaning, miscellaneous papers and bills
Things You Ate Today: Grilled Salmon, Fingerling Potatoes, Cajun Chicken Salsa Salad
Things You Do When You are Bored: Drink, Nap, Play on the computer, download music (just music, I swear), chat with friends, write, stuff I can't write about here....and on and on....

4 Places You Have Been Today
The Office
The Mall
My Place
My Parents Place

3 Things On Your Desk Right Now
A paper-weight depicting the area outside the Kotel in Jerusalem
The Weight Watchers Daily Companion
My late grandfather's rolodex

2 Choices
Salt or Pepper: Pepper
Hot or Cold: Hot

1 Place You Want to Visit
Portugal

Why TV Can Be More Satisfying Than T&A

2006-05-18T22:13:00.000-04:00

Okay. Here I go again. More stuff about men and women. If I write a few more columns, I may become an expert on this. TV can be more satisfying than T&A because women think that most of our lives revolve around T&A (see Breast Men post). Granted, T&A is always nice to have around. READ THIS: T&A is always nice to have around. So, what I am saying -- in essence -- is that it (T&A) is always there. If you don't have Tivo or a beat-up old VCR, you could end up screwed out of your favorite TV show. Worse yet, what if you just plain out forget to tape or Tivo your favorite show (you women will accuse of being forgetful anyway because of everything including playing with T&A or ourselves). That's exactly why TV can end up more satisfying than than T&A. T&A is always there. Your tv program can disappear without notice. So, in the end, TV equals satisfaction guaranteed. After all, you can always get that T&A.

I Wish I Were My Dog

2006-05-17T22:50:00.000-04:00

If I were my dog, I'd never have to leave my house. Period. End of story. Those of you who have one will understand exactly what I am saying.

Let's Be Honest (About Sex)

2006-05-16T22:45:00.000-04:00

My 11-year-old little nephew just had his first sex ed class. I was probably the same age when I learned about penises, vaginas, how babies are made and all that crap. The fact of the matter is I sat there and giggled with my friends because I already knew how babies were made. I already knew about vaginas. And, for that matter, I was probably already thinking ahead about how sordid my little life could become. Hell, as an only child, I had older cousins around me who would talk about sex all the time -- even at the dinner table. Sex was definitely not taboo in my family.

So, here is the one thing I think my sex ed teacher failed to mention. You girls will probably like this one, and you guys may think I am some freaky drug-driven turncoat. I think that sex ed teachers should have taught us how to be more up front about what we want from women in a relationship. No one ever taught me to tell Jane Doe that all I wanted to do was have sex with her -- and absolutely no commitment otherwise. And, the other way around (though lesser displayed), nobody ever told me that Jane Doe just wanted me for sex. Far be it for me to complain about the latter (in most cases).

All I am saying is this: If all I want to do is have sex with you, I should be honest about it. I shouldn't string you along. If sex is an integral part of my relationship with you, I should say so from the beginning. I shouldn't just go out with you and try to make the sex thing happen, or -- worse yet -- pump up the volume on the relationship when it does. Then, the "good" relationship that you want becomes the raunchy sexual relationship I want. You are mad. I am grouchy. I get dumped.

In the end, you be the judge. Maybe nice guys do finish last.

Overseen and Overheard (at the Bar) Part II

2006-05-15T23:46:00.000-04:00

Okay. So here is the situation. I am downing about my third Knob and Coke when I clearly hear this guy next to me say, "I wish I could come back as my wife." His two friends start laughing and totally agree with him. I am alone, without a wife and I just want to butt in that I (would) agree. Not to offend any of you women folk out there, because it is 2006 and you do more than your part. Then, there are some other things these guys took lightly -- things which made you look, well -- vain, at best. The sky-high credit card purchases for shoes, handbags, makeup, etc. The lavish lunches with your girlfriends, charged to our credit cards. The weekly manicures, pedicures and coiffures. Counseling to deal with us (well, on second thought, maybe they didn't say that part). Now, this shtick was reaching a whole new level -- one that I wasn't sure I was comfortable with. It was locker room talk. It was modern day machismo. It was -- well, I don't know. But, still, I found myself sitting there cackling in my cocktail. These guys had me guffawing in my gut. This is starting to sound totally crazy to me. Yet, their silliness and stupidity (together) seemed to make a lot of sense.

Mother's Day

2006-05-14T17:43:00.000-04:00

My mother has turned me from a boy into a man. During this long journey, I have reverted back again numerous times. Yet, this strong woman has helped me stay the course. A lot of people argue we don't get to choose our parents. No matter what, they choose us. To have my mother in my midst is the greatest blessing of my life. In my case, I couldn't have gotten luckier. When I was younger, she put the socks on my hands to make sure I didn't scratch myself when I had chicken pox. She attended all of my school plays and thensome. She went to work to help me out (I was an only child). She bought me every present I ever wanted (that I can remember). She opened her own boutique children's clothes store to show me how she could be a small business owner. She has accomplished so many things I am proud of that I would have to start another blog just to hit the tip of the iceberg.