Insight. Daytime television style.

Because I am awake usually around the 10 am vicinity, I am subject to all manner of high quality television broadcasts. I like to sift through the less desirable, boring ones and also every show that begins with "Judge" or ends in "Court", and concentrate on programs that guarantee an enrichment of my life intellectually, emotionally, and most of all, spiritually.

Here now are the 10 things I've learned whilst watching a week of "Maury":

"I like golf."

1) Every woman over 400+ pounds is having way more sex than you are having. Or will ever have. Or knew was possible.

2) Maury Povich finds black people precious.

3) Fertility is based solely on a lack of brain cells. It's kind of a trade off.

4) The demographic of this show have always wanted to go to school for a week and get a degree. They just needed the phone number.

5) The most popular letters in American names are "Q" and an apostrophe.

6) Maury Povich finds black people kooky.

7) The best way to make your point in an argument is to yell at the same time as the person you're arguing with. Helpful Hint: Keep repeating phrases like "That's what's up!", "What's up now?!", and the word "Whatever."

8) There are less contraceptives in Alabama than in all of Africa.

9) Becoming a father is a horrible, horrible thing.

10) If you're a white guy in the South, you have to grow a wispy goatee. It's a law.

Until next time America.

Urinal Etiquette or "You're too close Man!!!"

I really hate to do this but sorry ladies, this post is for the guys again. I'm not saying you shouldn't read it but I'm not quite sure how helpful you will find this. I'm almost positive that no ladies use urinals (sober) so the importance of the subject might elude you all. However, if you are looking for some insight into a man's world and the intricacies therein, this will be something to behold. Alrighty, that being said, I shall begin...

Guys. Have you ever been at a urinal, whether it be in an arena, workplace, mall, restaurant, church, urinal store, etc., and as you are standing there being relieved of all those fluidy castoffs, some dude shoots in the bathroom door, makes a beeline to the wall toilets and chooses the one right beside you? Invading your personal peeing bubble and sometimes even grazing your elbow with his? Or worse, what about the slow head turn and look. You have to immediately turn your head so you can make sure he's looking you dead in your eye. And then comes the awkward smile, or nod. Any gesture at that point is creepy but you make sure his eyes don't drift downwards regardless of the uncomfortable situation. And what about the dreaded, "How's it goin'?" This is not the time to be friendly. In the bathroom it's time for business and that's all. If conversation was a priority, or even an inclination, there would be couches and a Tassimo. But it's all porcelain and paper. Get out without any friend making and rejoin the world. These guys mess that whole experience up.

"Weird. I always thought you were Jewish."

I'm not a particularly uptight guy. I'm pretty open and friendly and I enjoy all people for the most part. Just when I'm up against a wall with my John Thomas front and center, I'm not looking to share my day. The very last thing I want to do when my paws are on my pecker is to strike up a conversation with a complete male stranger. There needs to be space given and received in the bathroom. I'm not in there for fun.

If by some chance I go in and out of 3 urinals there is a guy at the middle one, it's stall time. I respect the unspoken laws that come with public urination. It was something that was taught to me a long time ago whether through words, observation, or just common courtesy. I'm finding nowadays that many men have not had these lessons verbalized to them and just cannot grasp the concept at all. I give older guys, like 65+ a break. Not because I like the senior men potentially leering at Larry, but because at that age they really don't give a fuck. Those are the guys who also like to stand about 35 feet away from the urinal without shame at let her go. They get a pass. But any guy younger than that, smarten up!

Unspoken rules and regulations are what keep society going. They are what we as humans living together govern our everyday lives by. They're the laws of the common man. They allow order when merging onto the highway. First you go, then I go, then it's the next guys turn. It's a beautiful thing to watch when it's done properly. But think how angry you get when somebody skips the line or doesn't let you in when it's your turn. It's complete heresy. And believe me, you are not the only one becoming enraged. That is a real sign of community within the human race. It's what separates us from the animals. Same goes for newspaper boxes. You could take them all if you wanted to. You could grab them, run down the street screaming, "I'm a pretty bird!" while flapping them, and then go home and wallpaper your den with them. But you don't. Somebody else might want to read the news. Considering strangers is a pure and lovely happening.

Therefore, to all the men I will unfortunately have to share public bathrooms with in the future, let's keep our distance, keep the acknowledgments to the barest of minimums, and the chatter to zero. Nobody's going in there for a laugh or a heart to heart. Go in and get out. Oh and wash your hands too. If you promise to do that at least, I'll talk to you at the sink.

Daily inspiration...

I remember when I used to write about funny, silly, somewhat comical things and tried to present them in the same manner. I plan to go back to it of course and was actually going to do something like that today. But then I picked up the Toronto Star and turned to page 2. If you get the Star I suggest you do the same. If you do not, I have the link right here to the feature I am referring to.

Today apparantly marks the 50th anniversary of JFK's inaugural speech. The speech that was written by a slew of people, at the beginning of a seemingly new era for the country. An era marked with turmoil, uncertainty, introspection, and change. Also, it addresses a country, a superpower, seeking truth, justice, unity, and hope.

Now I am definitely not a political junkie. That ship sailed when I entered my 30's. It's not that I don't care anymore, it's because I maybe care too much. Living and dying through politics is the quickest way to constant disappointment. It's the best path to pessimism and fake idealism is the adult version of your parents telling you there is no Santa Claus. I thought I was done believing that politicians could evoke any truly significant feeling in my hard heart. However, I just could not put down the paper and tried to almost physically ingest every word, idea, and statement of promise and challenge orated by this man. The article provides explanation but demands none. It is an unquestionable masterpiece. It will move you a lot or a little but you will, at least for a split second, envision what he speaks of and become excited and inspired.

I don't want to oversell (too late) or spill my bleeding heart all over your screen but sometimes, especially with MLK's birthday just passed, it's nice to believe, even for a second, that there were still some leaders out there that want better and demand more. Let's hope we have an increase of those visionaries. Men and women who look at leadership as an enhancement of people and places as opposed to just taking care of red and black ink. And let's hope we don't kill them for it.

More stupidity another time.

Sean's Book Club (eat it Oprah!!) or Reading Something about what I Read

Are you excited? Do you gots the jittery jitters? Is your heart skipping beats and lubbing when it should dub? Did you wake up this morning and say quite sanely to yourself, "Wow, my life is just way to sensationally sensational and maybe I need to take it down a notch and tuck in to some borderline stimulating dialogue about a 60 year old book." Well that's just strange. Nobody would say that. But as it happens, your odd infatuation with the mundane fits perfectly with the following. Thank you for taking the time and allowing me to take you away.

For Christmas I was very happy to receive the novella "The Old Man and the Sea." Here it is in rebus form...

This book of course is considered to be a classic. And not a classic like "Aw dude that story about you getting that giraffe to take ecstasy is classic," but more like the literary kind. Like this book was the "Avatar" of 1952. It was like crack to the book reading world which, as it turns out, was quite the demographic. I think it spanned every human to various pond life. There wasn't a bunch to entertain people back then. I guess wearing hats kept them busy. Television had one and a half channels and broadcast for approximately 14 minutes a day. Pretty slim pickins. Anyway, I digress.

This book here, of course written by the legendary Ernest Hemingway, was something I had always wanted to get my peepers to get to peeping. I've read many a classic novel before and have almost tended to gravitate towards them, so to get one that is only 127 pages and about the size of an ambitious take-out menu meant I could knock another one off in an evening. However, this story, as simple and unpretentious as you can imagine, held me tight for a good two hours. Engaging and entertaining, it explored such simple themes so simply it became elegant and engrossing. I won't go into the plot now because you should read it. It's light fare that will leave you satisfied and definitely remembering why you love to read in the first place. Just be ready, if you read it in public, for randoms to smugly ask you if you are taking a class or writing a book report. Nobody reads anymore. Just smile politely. You will own them someday.

This book, according to the back-cover, won Papa all kinds of awards. He won the Pulitzer, the Nobel, MTV's Best Kiss, and others. So maybe it's not the "Avatar" of that year but it's still essential reading. I know people have their own tastes and what not but this is what writing was. When simplicity created stories and themes were subtle but hard-hitting. Where you didn't need excitement in every sentence to create literature (I'm looking at you Dan Brown). You used your head. And it was good.

So I copped out in my first book review by picking a classic but so what. I had to start slow. I'm reading Vonnegut now so we'll see where that takes me. But either way, read this if you haven't. It's quick, painless, and entertaining. If anything you can cross it of your list. But, you don't have to take my word for it.

Maybe next year...

(This will be a blog on sports. I'm not saying that you ladies might not enjoy it, I'm just warning you is all. Read it anyway though. It's good for the eyes. And I'll throw in a picture of a sexy guy at the end.)

I am in a bad mood. A really bad, foul, rotten mood. Ornery even. I'm almost at the end of my rope and a sense of excitement and anticipation has once again been snuffed out like a mosquito who was met with deadly applause. Why this miserableness? I'm even embarrassed to say it but here goes. It is because with about 40 seconds to go, Michael Vick threw an interception in the end zone, ending the game and the Philadelphia Eagles' playoff hopes. My exterior was stoic. My demeanor calm, and very collected. I even managed a shrug and uttered the ever expressive, "Meh." Inside, however, where my soul bangs it's head against the wall of my existence, this was my true feeling:

"Mama, make it stop!"

I, like many a regular Joe, believe that sports, in it's truest essence can be an exciting, competitive, cultural community builder. It allows a release from every day drudgery and provides watershed moments in history and the never ending human endeavour. I say this without hyperbole. The way sports grips us as a species, the competition between ourselves in an athletic arena, is probably one of the strongest bonding factors around. It is both historical document and pop culture phenomenon. Don't believe me? I bet you remember where you were when Joe hit that homerun. I don't even need to go into detail. You know what I'm talking about.

I have been watching sports for over 25 years now. That's longer than my girlfriend has been alive (I thank you). In 1985, I saw the Blue Jays win the AL East. I watched my first full Superbowl at the age of 8 and saw the Bears beat the Patriots. I was hooked. It was 1986 and I scrambled to find the teams to root, root, root for. Or I should say for them to find me. Most of my picks were geographical (Toronto Blue Jays, Toronto Maple Leafs...) but some took time. Here now is my list of teams I support in all the sports I care about:

Baseball-Toronto Blue Jays
Basketball-Toronto Raptors
Hockey-Toronto Maple Leafs
Football-Philadelphia Eagles
Soccer-Toronto FC, Liverpool FC, Leeds United

Yes, most of them are Toronto teams. What can I say, I'm a homer. And when these teams are winning, Toronto is a magical place to be. However, these teams do not win very often. For the purpose of my point, I am just going to focus on my North American teams. They allow me the most happiness when things are going well.

Now over the past 25 years let's calculate how many teams have won their respective league championships and compare to the teams I support. This will illustrate how close I am to giving up completely and doing yoga on a Sunday instead.

Baseball
Number of teams that have won championships: 17
My team: 2
(not a bad start)

Hockey
Number of teams that have won championships: 14
My team: 0
(duh.)

Basketball
Number of teams that have won championships: 7
My team: 0
(My team before the Raptors came was the Orlando Magic. Championships: 0)

Football
Number of teams that have won championships: 14
My team: 0
(They did get there once though. And got beat by fucking Tom Brady. I don't like that guy.)

So you see why I get upset and frustrated. All through my sports watching life, living in one of the biggest, most profitable sports cities in North America, with the only American team I chose to follow being just as rich and powerful as it's Torontonian counterparts, my teams combined are an impressive 2-51. Only one of my teams has won any kind of ring compared to the 51 others who have held the trophies aloft. Now I feel like crying again. And don't get me started on International Soccer. I'm edging toward the balcony already.

Many people have said that I take it too seriously. I don't think so. I think I'm at a point right now where I give it the right amount of consideration and self-investment. I'm not a fanatical, crazy, face-painter, but I rock the jerseys and I watch the games and I support teams that seem to do nothing to support their fans. The problem with Toronto is that we do that. We keep supporting. We are sports enablers to those rich owners and the fucking Teacher's Pension. So I'm taking it down a notch. No more buying tickets and stuff to support people that regularly kick us in the balls. It's a different kind of release now. I'm hanging on to these teams just enough to not be so distraught when they lose and to be legitimately able to celebrate when they win. Does that make me a fair-weather fan? Perhaps. But it's they only way to survive in this city if you want to maintain your sanity and involve yourself in Toronto sports. It took me 25 years to learn that. In another 25 years, one of my teams might surprise me and win something. It sounds funny but it's a reality. Welcome to my life.

Oh, and for the ladies...

You are so welcome.

Random Musings Stave 1...

I saw a wooden station wagon today.

I think bodies of water are the sluts of the natural world. After all, they're the only ones with crabs. BA-zing!

On the topic of bodies of water, do you think fish cry fresh water tears? I don't. Fish don't cry, idiot. They're way too fucking happy.

How pissed off are all the voiceover actors who paid for school and are out of work this week. Go stand on a corner idiots.

If reading is fundamental, writing is therefore essential.

I read the Bible the other day. Turns out, we did it.

Boogers.

Oh wait. That buzzer means it's time for the lightning round...

As I had mentioned in previous bloggings, I was recently really sick. I mean praying for death kind of sick. Well, maybe not praying for death, but definitely praying for something. Maybe it was praying for Russia to win the World Juniors in an emasculating Canada kind of way (cheers God!). Maybe I was praying to hear Nick Lachey say Whiffenpoofs just one more time. But I think it was more that the sheer boredom of catatonic illness made me long for the days when I remembered either being stimulated, or just being able to be.

Because of said malady, I was resigned to take root on the couch and fill my eyeholes with whatever moving pictures I could grab. I made the decision to go against the grain and try something new. Instead of the warm, sweet embrace of movies I had seen before and was therefore in no danger of not enjoying, I thought, "Hey let's try some new ones. The eight gallons of Neo-Citron will kick in anytime and I'll probably just get the Universal logo and the end credits. Let's go!" Oh you sweet fool.

Here now are very quick reviews of the movies I viewed during my break from wellness. Please understand that some of them are a couple of years old so I'm not gonna be making many original insights. This is just what I thought of the group of films I chose to watch. And I was sick so my choices might be questionable. But get off my back! Like you never made bad movie choices. I was working with what I had.

1) The Happening

This is a shit movie. The trailers looked pretty interesting but this is a shit movie. The story is weak and it's a shit movie. Zooey Deschanel is wasted. And for some reason, Marky Mark's acting coach told him years ago that panting as you deliver every line is Oscar-worthy. This is a shit movie.

2) Hancock

Starts well. Kinda interesting. I'll never buy Will Smith as a drunk. I actually think in his videos he pours Kool-Aid on bitches, not Dom P. And that's only if they're on fire. Jason Bateman is awesome in everything. The ending sucks and makes no sense. Had potential. Never delivered. I then got drunk. I bought that.

3) I Am Legend

Good performance. Until he fucking killed the dog. I didn't recover. Started rooting for the vampires.

4) The Village

I liked it. I thought it was pretty solid. However, I kept waiting for Joaquin to start rapping. I like that Bryce Dallas Howard chick though. She's kinda hot. Good little actress too. I wonder if there's another film with her in it that I could watch...

5) The Lady in the Water

...oh there's one! This movie was the worst piece of shit since The Back-up Plan. I hated it. I not only hated it, I resented it. I resented it because it made me remember that I had seen The Back-up Plan when I instinctively made the comparison. Sorry Shyamalamalamalan, you're dead to me.

6) Good Hair

A little light docko to break up the monotony. I shouldn't have been entertained by this movie. It had 4 things I cannot relate to: 1. Being black 2. Being a woman 3. Being a black woman 4. Having hair. All that said, I thought it was pretty interesting and I done learned stuff! I recommend.

7) Invictus

I think the only person happier than Nelson Mandela when he was released was Morgan Freeman's agent. I honestly think that if Mandela wanted to disappear for a while, Morgan could step in and nobody would notice. Also, I know 20% more about rugby than when I started. I think that brings me up to about 13% knowledge.

8) Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs

I like animation alright?!! And so do you. This movie was great and funny and well done and great. I should never judge a cartoon before I see it. I do it every time and every time I'm proven wrong. It's fun as shit and you should watch it. Well, maybe drugs might have had something to do with it. But I was sick okay?! Try and tell me that some of the best movie experiences you've ever had were without the assistance of some narcotic. That's what I thought.

So I think that's it. I could be wrong, I was praying a lot then remember? I might have missed a few but anyway, those were the ones my mind decided to keep in the ol' filing cabinet (Note: That phrase only works perfectly if you envision me gesturing to my head whilst saying it). So, as you can see, I have many better films to watch over the coming year. I'm always open to suggestions and recommendations. I will keep you abreast of any and all so don't you worry your ol' filing cabinets about that.

Deuces

Quick plugola...

Over the holidays I took part in two things that made me very happy and unexpectedly fulfilled. The first one was a book that was recommended by the person that knows me the best in this area. The second was a documentary that I never really felt inclined to watch until one boring evening, sick on the couch in the basement. Either way, both of these items need to be watched and read by you if you haven't already. That's really something you should do.

Anthony Kiedis' book is one of the best rock autobiographies I've ever read. I've never been a huge fan of the Chili Peppers but I've always been aware of them and have found their music enjoyable for the better part of 20 years now. I mean "Under the Bridge" alone got me through Grade 8. But this is an uncensored look at a man who seems to have not only come to terms with the life he has led, but now has gotten to the point where he's reporting it back, in detail, without apologies or shame. The music takes a back-seat to the music scene and the copious drug use but it didn't end up disappointing me at all. The story was engaging and the narrative was empowering. It is also a miracle this man is still alive. I don't feel so bad now for that joint I smoked last week. Read it. I am now a somewhat fan of the band and it's frontman. (Note: searched for picture of this cover by going to Google Images and typing in "Scar Tissue." Do not do that. Seriously. Disgusting.)

Another surprise was how amazing this movie and this band is. I had heard three things about Rush in my life: 1) "Tom Sawyer" 2) "YYZ" 3) If Jesus had a band, Neil Peart would be the drummer. So what made me want to sit through this docko about a band with a weird looking, helium-sucking castrato bassist, a milquetoast guitarist, and Drummy McBangiddyBap? Not just because they're from Canada, but I guess there was a part of me that was always kind of intrigued by their appeal. Because let's face it, whenever you meet a Rush fan, they are a RUSH FAN! Also, I saw Alex Lifeson in one of my favourite episodes of Trailer Park Boys so I gave it a whirl. An amazing film about the lowest-key big rock band ever (if that makes any sense). They were probably the most boring trio to ever tour. However, they had the most musical talent, artistic integrity, conceptual courage, and insane work ethic of any band over the last 40 years. No understatement there. I immediately downloaded "La Villa Strangiato" after viewing and am consistently amazed that there are really only three of them. I am now a fan. See this if you like music.

That's it.
Bye.

2011...now what?

Happy New Year. Auld Lang Syne. Prospero Ano. Yippee, Huzzah, and accompanying horn-like sounds from those little horn-like things. For some reason, the clock ticking to midnight on Jan 1st, is an annual excuse for bacchanalia. It is a quick moment in time that universally allows people to fill their seemingly hopeless and mundane existence with thoughts of extreme and magical promise that could encompass the next 365 days. Such thoughts could only happen but once a year. Only then, for one second, could we possibly delude ourselves to believe that we are going to do anything really substantially different then a second ago, simply because we are now in the process of physically push-pinning a new kitten calendar in the existing hole on the wall. I'm not trying to be negative but it is a fairly strange and almost assuredly disappointing way to begin a so-called new chapter in one's life. It is such a typical human thing to do, especially nowadays. Let's begin the year by putting as much pressure on ourselves as possible so we can cement the fact that New Year's Eve will officially be the last night we truly enjoy this year. I see it every year. I do it every year. The best party coupled with the hardest hangover. Not only do we wake up feeling like shit, but now we gotta do shit too!

The promise...

...the reality.

Now, I don't, for one instant, begrudge anyone trying to better themselves or do anything positive. I don't think that January 1st, (your year here), is necessarily a stupid or unreasonable time to create certain plans to make such changes. It's just when I hear some of the outlandish expectations people put on themselves for the coming year, I wonder if it's because they feel guilty for having that 17th jager-bomb on Dec 31st, and therefore must be flogged daily with the cat o' nine tails of disappointment. You can do things, great things this year, but don't say: "I'm gonna get a degree, lose 125 pounds, get married, find a new job (that I love), and do a lot of charity work." All of these are outstanding things to want to accomplish, however, let's put it in perspective. If you did somehow manage TWO of these things, you could probably consider it the best year you, or anyone you've ever known might have had. It's great to have aspirations and ambitions, but the more attainable you make them, the better year you will have. I used to do the exact same thing and if by the Ides of March my life wasn't completely turned around, the rest of my year went to shit.

So this New Year's Eve I said "No more!" Well actually, it sounded more like "AAHMM DDRRUNCK!!" but the idea was to not let myself let myself down again. Therefore, I give you my very reachable goals for the new year. 2011, watch your ass!

1. Finish year with at least $201.00 in savings account.

I currently have $200.00 in my savings account. Therefore, with very minimal effort, I can be at least a little better off than I was at the beginning. See how good this is going so far?

2. Lose 1 pound a month.
If I can accomplish this, I will be exactly 12 pounds lighter come December. That would put me exactly where I would like to be. Or, I guess where I should be. Or, I don't know, I just don't want to grunt when I get out of a chair anymore.

3. Watch at least 1 new movie a week.

I was sick recently and I realized after watching 3 Will Smith's and the entire M. Night Shyamalalalalaladingdonglnnnalanan collection (which made me sicker somehow) that there is definitely enough time in a week to spend being entertained by a minimum of 1 film, even though I spent the better part of a week not being entertained by any. Gonna make better choices too.

4. Drink water.

I don't. I should. Why not? S'good, no?

5. Get my passport.

It's been 5 years since my passport expired and I have a girlfriend who wants to go on vacation frequently. Plus, I think you need it just to get into Buffalo now don't you? So, I guess I should get it. And then take her to Buffalo. No, not even Buffalo. Tonawanda! No, not even Tonawanda. North Tonawanda!!! We're comin' Irv!!

6. Holla at the Fam at least once a week.

Everybody's everywhere. But still, regardless of other goings on in our separate lives, we live in an age where a mere acknowledgment of a friend or family member takes seconds and is readily available at any time. Once a week is not too much to do.

7. Read a book every 2 months.

Attainable, enlightening, entertaining, and booky. Couldn't think of another adjective. I should read more.

8. LOOK for a new job.

I'm not gonna put pressure on myself to actually GET a new job The pursuit alone kinda entails that attaining a new job is the idea. Just the mere search at this point will be enough to make my current job just a little more bearable. And who knows? Maybe the search will bear fruit. Maybe literally. Maybe I'll get a job in an orchard. Free apples. Okay, this one's my favourite so far.

9. WRITE!!!

See above.

And finally...

10. Try not to fuck up as much as you did in 2010.

Now this doesn't mean that I spent 2010 fucking up. No more than anyone else. No less either. It just basically means, try not to be any stupider than last year. Always learn from mistakes of yours and others. Just maintain. Don't shoot the moon. Just maintain, idiot. Be better and don't be the things that annoy you in other people. Be smarter, funnier, happier, nicer, more helpful, more focussed, more reliable, more considerate, and a little closer to that person you ultimately want to be. Sounds like a tall order I know, but it's always the smallest gestures and actions that lead to the most progress and growth. Day by day, and thought by thought. That's my 2011. Living in the moment while trying to make it better.

Good luck this year guys. I wish you all the successes that will lead you to happiness.

I'll check in on you from time to time.

Sean