Did you know that pockets and purses are distant cousins? Well, sure enough, grandma, it’s true!
See, there were once no pockets. Before the 1500s everyone presumably stuffed cell phones into socks and stored minivan keyless remotes under top hats. But eventually folks starting carrying around little bags to hold their things and the family tree eventually split into pants pockets and big purses.
These days pockets are great for a few big reasons:
1. Man Purse Backups. Guys, you know the pain of lugging around your wallet, keys, and phone without a handy side satchel holding everything. Sure, sometimes you can count on a Purse Lady to hook you up, but more often than not it’s down to the pockets.
2. Instant hand warmers. Spending your money on gloves and mitts is fine, but even better is the cheapo method of deep-digging them into your jeans pockets for some hot, hot thigh loving.
3. Flexible like a gymnast. Pockets of air in rooms that are quickly filling with gushing water are life-saving and make for exciting movie scenes. And pockets of air bubbles can provide hours of amusement. Plus, let’s not forget that pizza pockets and pita pockets can be tasty and delicious.*
Oh sure, sure, I’m the same as you, mindlessly stuffing my hands in my pockets all day without really imagining the fairly recent world where they didn’t even exist. Nowadays we bell our bottoms, fade our jeans, and pre-wrinkle our T-shirts, but there was a day when we just wrapped ourselves in what we had and kept on trucking. Perhaps back then nobody could have predicted the long line of Clothing Technology that evolved over time to include zippers, Velcro, and Genera Hypercolor T-Shirts.
A line of kids hold hands on one side of the playground while a kid from the other side runs at them with a head full of steam and tries to bust through.
The game’s not over until the field is littered with broken arms, bloody noses, and shattered glasses.
It’s one of the most dangerous playground games out there.
And one of the most fun.
AWESOME!
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At least sometimes I feel that way when I’m caught in a yellow-light staredown and suddenly find myself death-gripping the wheel while make that split-second decision to fly through or slam the brakes.
It’s very stressful.
If you’re like me sometimes you’re in the middle of the intersection when you suddenly think: “Oh shoot… I shouldn’t have gone.”
When that happens it’s always satisfying to see the car behind you come through the intersection, too. I mean, you thought you were pushing it, but just look at that guy. Suddenly your move is totally justified and police officer’s job is a whole lot easier.
Sure, he does a lot of things well, like teach, be a great friend, and write a blog, but the man doesn’t run, doesn’t enjoy running, and doesn’t think about running. Nope, he’s no bib-wearing, calf-stretching, fancy-shoe-buying runner, and you know what? He’s cool with that.
That’s why I was surprised when Chad told me recently that he and his wife Kristen were visiting her brother in Florida when they decided to go for a run. “Go for a run?,” I asked. “Go for a run,” he said, eyebrows popped up and nodding, like he hardly believed it himself. But he’s also a man who says yes a lot so he decided to throw caution into the wind and just go with the flow.
Chad told me it was his first time running outside with other people. He wasn’t sure how to pace himself so he suddenly raced to the front of their three-person pack. Sun was beaming down on him, wind was blowing in his face, and another runner was racing up to him coming the other way.
Since Chad wasn’t familiar with Running Protocol he let instinct take over and put his hand up for a high five as he approached the other runner. The other guy got a huge smile on his face and gave a loud, cracking high five back, before high fiving Chad’s wife and brother-in-law, too.
And it was a beautiful moment.
Because there’s something special about the stranger-to-stranger high five.
Whether it’s screaming fans outside the stadium after a big comeback win, a smiling stranger high-fiving a smiling baby on the subway, or a group of cyclists at the finish line of a long charity ride, it’s always great when emotions bubble up and insecurities fade away in favor of enjoying a cracking high five moment and living for the day.
AWESOME!
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Well, you did, you did, and you looked good in it, too. You crawled around hallways, yanked the dog’s tail, and screamed like a banshee in that diaper-padded butt. Chances are good someone took pictures of you doing it. Chances are good the camera kept clicking through your grass-stain-and-pimple-filled childhood, too.
The evidence exists.
Coming across those old photos of your boyfriend or girlfriend these days is great … for a few big reasons:
1. Coloring in the lines. When you’re falling head over heels for somebody, you just can’t get enough of them. If you’ve ever said “I wish I knew you before!” or “Where have you been all my life?”, then old photos are your best way into their past.*
2. Awkwardness Anonymous. At the start of the relationship everyone’s on their best behavior. New pants, muted farts, and deodorant double-swiping is the norm. Which is why sharing old photos builds so much trust. We get to see into your geeky past, when metal mouths, Coke-bottle glasses, and gap-toothed grins were the norm.
3. They’re just plain ol’ cute. Because you were a chubby-cheeked one-year-old with wide eyes and a button nose at some point. We won’t ask what happened.
When you see those old photos of your boyfriend or girlfriend it’s like your pasts and your futures start slowly twisting together. Stories pop out of birthday cake blowouts, histories bloom out of family reunions, and long lives lived seem to fill in before your eyes as you finger flip through dog-eared albums on the old basement couch.
Obviously, I got jacked on parking and my little pickup turned into a twelve-dollar fine for swerving around the maze-like lot for twenty minutes. On my way out I stopped at the Pay For Parking machines and, sure nuff, all of them were packed with people.
I tapped my foot like Sonic The Hedgehog for a minute before noticing a woman spoon-feeding her baby in a stroller near one of the machines. I moseyed on up and softly said, “Sorry ma’am, are you… using this?” to which she replied “Oh, no, not yet, go ahead.”
Who feeds their baby in front of a parking machine?
First off, icing that was smeared or drizzled on top a few hours ago is guaranteed to hit the cinnamon roll bulls eye which means your last doughy bite is loaded with that sweet white gold. If you’re lucky the icing will have crisped just slightly so your teeth sort of puncture it into tiny sugary shards, revealing the softer, more liquidy layer of icing below. On top of that, the core of the cinnamon roll is the tallest part of the roll, which means you’ve got a larger variety of textures to choose from. Do you bite off the sticky sweet top, slowly twist apart its fresh-bready innards, or maybe chomp away at that sticky flat bottom. And hey — let’s not forget about the cinnamon itself! We’re talking sugary brown powdered sweetness wrapped delicately around the nucleus of this entire bite.
Eating the core of a cinnamon roll means you just ate an entire cinnamon roll. Let’s stop and appreciate that for a second. You didn’t split it with somebody, you didn’t just have a bite, and you didn’t walk by the stand in the train station and enjoy the fumes. Nope, in one big move, in five big minutes, you just scarfed it all and told vegetable juice diets, pilates sweat-a-thons, and full-length mirrors to shove it.
AWESOME!
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Tossing strangers on a beach in Costa Rica, surrounding them with boom mics, and overdubbing dramatic music is starting to get old. I’m not saying sweaty cooking competitions, suspenseful scale weigh-ins, or watching people who think they can dance dance isn’t always fun. It’s just that flipping past a neverending series of teary camera confessions, backstage breakdowns, and envelope opening closeups is making our thumbs hurt.
It’s time to go back to the good ol’ days from the 80’s and 90’s when cheesy scripts, awkward situations, and big dollops of family values got stirred into thirty minutes of prime time television on Friday night. Take us back to nutty roommates, take us back to closing morals, and take us all the way back to the cheesy theme songs:
10. Blossom. Buried between Cosby Show style dance moves and constant wardrobe changes is a bit of solid self-help advice: “Don’t know about the future, that’s anybody’s guess. Ain’t no good reason for getting all depressed.” In addition to the philosophizing this sitcom wins the Most Strange Names Ever competition with Blossom, Six, and Buzz all on the final ballot. In the words of Joey Russo: Whoa!
9. Home Improvement. This must have been a low-budget show from the beginning judging by the “construction cut-outs scattered on a desk” opening sequence. That also explains why they couldn’t afford rights to show Wilson’s whole face or spring for acting lessons for the youngest son.
8. Married… With Children. Ol’ Blue Eyes croons about love and marriage as a grouchy Al Bundy gives away all his money on the couch. Let’s be honest — the dog never gets old.
7. Family Matters. One great thing about old-school sitcoms was when they suddenly had a wild non-sensical plotline requiring the viewer to suspend all disbelief. Let’s call it the Great Gazoo effect. The best of these was definitely Steve Urkel’s classic alter-ego Stefan Urquelle where Urkel transformed his DNA using “Cool Juice” to suppress his nerd genes in an attempt to win over Laura’s heart. Just beautiful. Now sit back on your rocker and enjoy this classic “every character just noticed the camera” opening montage.
6. Martin. If you know what they’re singing in this theme song you win a prize. It sounds sort of like “Martin”, but sort of like, well, not that. Of course, the most common question people asked while watching this show was: Is that Martin playing someone else? Of course, the second most common question was: What else is on? (Note to Martin Lawrence: I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Thanks again for reading this blog. Love your work.)
5. Roseanne. Feel that raging saxophone smack you in the chest like you just walked into a smoky blues club on the south side. Get a little dizzy from the long and slow dinner-table-wraparound camera shot. Let this opening hypnotize you and laugh along with the high-pitched giggle at the end.
4. Friends. Back when I was growing up in the burbs our group of friends didn’t always have much to do on Friday nights. Sure, there was movies, there was the mall, there was the food court, but sometimes it all got a bit old. I wish one of us had thought of dressing up in suits and dancing in a water fountain.
3. The Wonder Years. Joe Cocker’s strained crescendo-building ballad over grainy family videos of wistful summer barbecues gets me every time. Every relationship in the show is almost perfectly reduced to a couple seconds of cutaways in this opening montage. Pass the tissues and tune the heartstrings. We’re going in.
2. Full House. Everywhere you look… Michelle is mispronouncing ice-cream, Danny is cleaning the cleaning supplies, Jesse is writing commercial jingles, Kimmy Gibbler is going bananas, and Joey is telling everyone to just cut… it… out.
1. Fresh Prince of Bel Air. I think we can testify to the long-running greatness of Will Smith’s Bel Air antics. For those of you who missed this series let me summarize the two main jokes for you: 1. Uncle Phil is fat. 2. Carlton is short. Also, you want to know what’s rarer than seeing Bigfoot flying on a spotted owl while eating a Pizza Sub from Subway? I’ll tell you: Seeing the long version of this classic. Let’s break it down:
These days we may be knee-deep in reality TV but that doesn’t mean we can’t relive old favorites from yesterday. Grab a bowl of popcorn, pour a glass of cola, and curl up under the blankets as we all go back together to enjoy these great moments with old friends.
Here’s one for you.
2. Instant hand warmers. Spending your money on gloves and mitts is fine, but even better is the cheapo method of deep-digging them into your jeans pockets for some hot, hot thigh loving.
