In Defense of Me and 90s Kid Stuff

MY WORLD:

Aside from treating my body like a dumpster, talking to Belle about how she’s the “numba one pretty gurrrlll” and sleeping in my clothes, there’s one final pastime I take part in whenever The VP of Ops leaves town; getting paranoid about what she’s saying about me to other people. You see, there’s this thing that some people take part in, where when they’re away from their significant other they complain about his/her faults and idiosyncrasies to their friends. Mind you, this is something that I have only HEARD ABOUT, for my friends and I keep our conversations strictly about sports, chicken wings and who our current man-crush is because IT’S A SAFE SPACE AND WE’RE PROGRESSIVE! (Chris Hemsworth and Eddie Vedder forever btw).

However, I am aware that The VP of Ops has sheep-like tendencies when surrounded by her poor influences of friends. While they’re complaining about the ragamuffins they’re with, in an effort to fit in and not be the “yo mans ain’t got it like my mans got it”-girl, she probably folds and joins the complain party. Knowing this, I would like to put forth some explanations and defenses for what she MAY be saying about me to her friends.

“He’s really moody”—First off, who isn’t? Right? I mean, I’m sure there are co-workers of yours that you think are super even keel, but they have to be kinda’ bitchy sometimes at home later…right? RIGHT?!?!? Uh, and you think The VP of Ops ISN’T moody? THINK AGAIN BUB! Last time I checked, yelling “I’m going to murder you” at your husband, just because he’s playing the “I’m not touching you”-game, is called a MOOD. Your honor, I would like to employ the “well, she is too”-defense.

Real talk, this cuts deep because I am POSITIVE that it’s true. For some reason, being “moody” has worse connotations than being a serial killer in my brain. (He’s moody?!?! Ugh, I don’t have time to deal with that! Yeah, my husband killed 4 people, but they were like SOOOOO annoying). Sometimes, I’ll catch myself mid-“if you don’t stop humming to yourself I’m going to blow my brains out” and immediately toss an apology the VPs way. The apology, though, normally sounds something like “I’m mad right now and I don’t know why and it’s not your fault so I’m…(through grit teeth)…so I’m sorry or whatever.” And if she brings up how I was moody the next day or another time when I’m in a GOOD mood? It’ll immediately piss me off and I’ll kinda’ deny it and will try my best to act not-mad…but, I’m fuckin’ mad about it. CAN’T THIS JUST BE OUR LITTLE SECRET? Oh, and to the girlfriend who I’m sure will mention something about me being a Gemini, just shove it. Astrology is for the birds, everyone knows this.

“He ALWAYS watches sports”—Well maybe if you had money riding on whether Mariska Whateverthefuckitay was going to catch the rapist in this episode of “Law & Order SVU”, I would support us watching that together. Gah fuhbid you join the team and root against Anthony Davis making the Blazers look like ABSOLUTE dog meat when I have the Blazers in my 8-team parlay. And also, if I watch sports all the time, how am I able to write such eloquent, insightful critiques of “Vanderpump Rules” and “Summer House”? Answer the question, please. I’ll wait…

This is the time when The VP of Ops will, most likely, bring up the fact that I have yet too hook up the second cable box in our bedroom. Did we move in last August? Yes, but there are a lot of wires and, like, I JUST DON’T WANNA! PLUS! PLUS! All she wants to watch is “Law & Order SVU” and that’s on netflix, so she can just watch it on our Apple TV in the bedroom. I would like to point out that I have mostly given up watching weekend pre-game shows (which are like catnip for guys ESPECIALLY during football season) so that we can watch that stupid fake pioneer woman cook some unhealthy bullshit for her “Cowboy Kids” on Food Network. (We did just find out that Pioneer Woman married into like one of the richest families in the country. When your family is worth in excess of $500 million-not kidding-it kinda’ puts a damper on the whole “just cookin’ for some farm boys” motif they’re going for. Just my 2 cents!) Are you going to bring that up to the girl crew? Do their guys ask what time Vanderpump Rules is on every Monday? Do their guys pause “Relation-shep” in the middle of the show just to talk to you about charismatic and likable Shep is? Didn’t think so.

“He’s bossy”—This one is similar to the “he’s moody” one in that it hurts, but the difference here is that I’m not bossy. I’m really not. This is not me trying to be funny by denying the truth…I’m just not bossy. Ask my boss at work if I’m bossy; bet he says I’m not.

Really though, I think I’m good at admitting faults (see, “He’s really moody” section) but this “bossy” label is one hundred percent due to the fact that The VP of Ops is an all-time horrible decision maker. When I say that, I’m not meaning it in the sense of making bad decisions like “she decides to get a neck tattoo when she’s drunk.” More like, she just WON’T make a decision. Every single Saturday that we both have free, I’ll ask her what she wants for lunch. “Where should we go? We can go wherever you want!”-I ask like the Magic Lunch Fairy. What this leads to is her telling me that she’s going to find a spot by looking through the Yelp! app on her phone. Then, about 13 minutes later, I’ll walk past her and see that she’s just scrolling through Instagram. “Oh yeah, I forgot”-and she’ll get back to the Yelp! app before asking me “well, what do you want?” no less than 39 times. So me putting an end to this misery and picking a restaurant that she told me she LOVED is, then, an example of me being bossy? In the words of an Italian television caricature “Getda’ Fug Outta Hee!”

OUR WORLD:

So Spotify has this thing now, I don’t know if it’s new or not, where they create a playlist for you called “Time Capsule”. Through the magic of the internet (and the government…) they somehow know what songs I liked when in my formative years. This morning I have heard some real treats like Matchbox Twenty (Rob Thomas can sing, so back off), “Sabotage” (the only Beastie Boys song I like), and “Rollin'” by Limp Bizkit (NOT the only Limp Bizkit song I like…WHAT?!?! IT’S GREAT WORKOUT MUSIC!)

This “Time Capsule” got me to thinking about the 90s and so I wanted to put together the beginning of a “Whatever Happened To __________?” list for my fellow kids of the 90s. Maybe I’ll continue this in future blogs…maybe not…I do what I want.

–Eve 6: Was “Inside Out” just too perfect of a song? I’m guessing they made that and were like “well, we can’t top that…so let’s just leave.”

–Drew Barrymore: She was in every single movie for a stretch there and now, where she at? Drew? Where you at, Drew? She is also maybe the best example of a celeb I can’t decide if I’m attracted to or not.

–The guy with tiny sunglasses in “The Professional”: I’ve actually never seen this movie, but feel like I have because I’ve seen the preview like a hundred times and CONSTANTLY think about watching it on nights I’m having trouble finding something. He seemed like a pretty solid character actor, though. Maybe? I don’t know.

–Jesse Camp: This is the guy who won MTVs first “Wanna Be a VJ” contest. Man, this dude was off-putting. Also, pretty provocative name for a TV show, in hindsight. I don’t want to look up what this dude is up to now because I fully expect it to be very depressing.

–Ben Savage from “Boy Meets World”: Again, not going to look up what he’s actually up to, but for very different reasons than Jesse Camp. I don’t want to look Ben Savage up because I’m rooting for him to be miserable now. When I was a grad film student at UCLA (are you impressed by debt? Well get a load of this!) I ran into Ben Savage hanging out in the office of my student housing building. He was like hanging out with people that worked there or something? Anyway, I recognized him and because it was a Friday night and I was probably 5 beers deep at this point, struck up a conversation with him. Unfortunately, he quickly turned this light conversation into a passionate monologue about how stupid and delusional he thinks people trying to break into the film/television biz are. He did not know that I was (am?) one of those people. He was so condescending and pompous, that I wish I would’ve told him that the GLARING FLAW with “Boy Meets World” was that Topanga was WAY too hot for him. Everyone agrees on this and if you see this cheesedick on the street, feel free to remind him of it. I’d appreciate it.

LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

I bet you’re like me and still know all the lyrics to this.

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Punchable face times a billion.

Savage

MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:

Well, my NBA playoff parlay is basically dead now that the Blazers are down 0-3 to the Pelicans. Isn’t it great when you look back on a bet and it’s SUPER OBVIOUS that betting against Anthony Davis was a bad idea? I just love it. I placed a few bets last night and ended up going 2 for 4, so that’s not horrible at least. I’m guessing that Philly is becoming the favorite to come out of the East now, and so I think I may want to put some money on Cleveland. I can’t stand LeBron, but I just can’t see him going down to Ben Simmons and Embiid…not yet.

(My account currently at $207.73)

K bye.

Do I Still Like Doing These Things? (4/13/18)

MY WORLD:

It’s a mothafuckin’ Friday y’all!!! TIME TO GET WILD! Seriously, we made it through the week and if you’re not blowing it out in your own way tonight, then get to steppin’, cuz this is a blow-out only crew here at this blog (I really have no idea what I just wrote but it had some rhythm so I just went with it.) As Friday rolls in like the gramma who used to give you too much candy, I started thinking about what I was going to do tonight and I came to the realization that there are “fun things” that I try to convince myself that I still like to do…when I’ve actually…maybe…grown out of them. (JIMMY NO! DON’T ADMIT IT!!! THEY’RE WATCHING!!!!)

I don’t want to be the “I’m so old”-guy because, if you’re under the age of 40, and pulling that shit, you’re obnoxious and have ZERO self-awareness. Ever in a room with actual middle-aged people, and some trying-too-hard-to-sound-mature 27 year old talks about how “old” they feel now because they cooked dinner one time last week? Can these people be sent to the smelliest trash dump to live forever? (Had to get that out because the following may have echoes of this sentiment…) Since I don’t think these are as universal as some of my other lists, I would like to present the first installment of a new Friday staple…”Things I Try To Convince Myself That I Still Like.” Does age have something to do with this list? I’M NOT OLD OKAY! I’M NOT THAT GUY! Today’s subject…

Concerts: Earlier this week, I told The VP of Ops that we were “due to go to a concert.” It was a cool-husband thing to say on a Tuesday night that I didn’t really think would go any further than that. Like, I heard a live version of a song we liked on the radio and my mouth just farted that out. When we got home, I checked out upcoming Chicagoland concerts on the internet because I was bored and had already gone through Instagram like 94 times that day.

There were bands that we both like playing for cheap ticket prices and…I couldn’t pull the trigger. Why? Because they were on a weeknight or months away and all I could think about was how tired I would be during the week or how much I was going to have to spend on beer. (YOU DO NOT SOUND LIKE A FUN PERSON, JIMMY!) Am I the only one who thinks “yeah, but what if we buy tickets for this Friday night show that’s not for 3 months, and then our favorite couple decides to throw a house party that night and we can’t go cuz we’re too busy spending $14 on Corona Lights”?!?! Then! Our favorite couple is gonna be all “you know, we got to know Lonny and Bonny that Friday night you guys weren’t there, and we have reached the conclusion that their value system is more closely aligned to ours, so you and The VP have been replaced as the first couple to invite to double dates.” Next thing we know, we’re on a friendship app trying to find a good looking couple to double date with, hoping that if we take enough “look how much fun we’re having!”-pics our old fave-couple will get jealous and call us back. JUST CALL US BACK!

And if there’s a show on a weeknight? FUGGETABOWDIT! The VP came home a few months back, on a Monday, saying that she got us free tickets to LCD Soundsystem. I was supposed to be excited, I know. A cool hipstery band, that I could brag about seeing live to my cooler friends. But…it was Monday and lil’ JimJim was sleepy ti ti and just wanted to watch “Vanderpump Rules” and not rub arms with a sweaty stranger who LOVES dancing in crowded areas. (God I sound like a curmudgeon). We ended up going because we were both like “well, we can’t NOT go,” but neither of us were excited to be there. We sipped on INSANELY expensive beers, stood in the back and kinda swayed along to a few songs while silently praying that the other one would turn around and say “can we go?” That game of chicken lasted for about 8 songs. I broke, and The VP was so happy to nod her head and sprint out of the crowded sauna of a concert venue with me.

Now, obviously, there are still those bands for everyone that can overcome these lame-ass tendencies. Those bands for me include (off the top of me old head–said in a Irishy accent): Dave Matthews Band, Queens of the Stone Age, Death Cab for Cutie, Pearl Jam, Radiohead and….maybe Garth Brooks cuz that does sound like a real hoot. You’ll notice that there are no hip-hop crews (crews? acts? artists?) and that’s because the last weeknight concert I got TWISTED at was a Kanye West concert (That’s right, Kanye West. Ever heard of him? Someone texted me “ever heard of it?” yesterday and I remembered how AWESOME of a burn that is so I’ve been using it non-stop since.) Looking back, I believe this experience not only turned me off to hip hop shows, but it scarred me so bad about weeknight concerts that I’ve never been able to enjoy one since…

The VP and I were late in year 1 of our relash (cool shorthand for relationship) and I had bought us Kanye tix months prior. We both worked 9-5 office jobs, but were cool enough to not even hesitate about a Tuesday night rap concert (any other white people feel very self-conscious when saying the term “rap concert”? Just me?) We met for a beer after work like they do in the movies and talked about whether we were wearing cool enough clothes for Kanye. I was. She wasn’t. Classic us.

We got to our seats at the big arena just in time for the opening act, a cool girl singer person who I can’t remember now…wait…I’m thinking…nope, not getting it. Anyway, she was cool and has become a pretty big star since so, no bigs, we saw her before she blew up. The VP and I had perfected our beer trips to where we were like a relay race team that didn’t have to look at each other when handing off the baton. By the time Kanye took the stage, we were SAUCED and HAVING A TIME!

There were some bro-y in-a-perfect-amount guys next to us and they were our new friends. Mouthing words to each other; me not getting insecure that they might be hitting on The VP; having minor dance-offs in the row; you know, those type of concert friends. The sound quality wasn’t great, but it didn’t matter cuz that bass was THUMPIN’ and no one had pointed out that I didn’t know what to do with my hands. (I was basically waiting for all the lights to go down, except one spotlight on my hands and have the PA Announcer start yelling at me to “figure out if they’re staying in your pockets or not!”)

Later in the second half of the Kanye’s RAP CONCERT, our bro-y friends offered us a pill–like a aderrall thing. The VP actually takes 2 of those bad boys everyday cuz she’s NUTS without them, but I had never partaken. I politely declined because I was scared, but 7 minutes later The VP took one for herself–cuz of health reasons! and she offered me one again…(HYPOTHETICALLY!)…I took it this time because I was still in the “watch how cool I can be”-phase with The VP. Guys, it wakes you up like big-time! And guess what that means when you’re 27? YOU CAN KEEP DRINKING! Which I did…until like 6 in the morning.

The party continued from the concert to a nearby bar to VPs shitty apartment to “oh my god, the sun is coming up.” We fell asleep for about an hour before I woke up in a half-drunken panic (was probably more like three quarters-drunken panic). I didn’t have time to get back to my apartment and get to work on time, and I was still new enough at the job that I didn’t feel comfortable calling in sick. No time for a shower either, guys. It was near Christmas-time and, thankfully, The VPs mom had given my present to The VP a few weeks earlier. “It’s a shirt, open it.” Christmas time came early for this drunken mess, so I tore open the “present” and THANK GOD it was a business-ish button down. Threw it on and I was off. Suicide was a legitimate option on the crowded train ride downtown.

My plan was to slink into the office like a real slink, and hide at my desk with headphones in for 8 hours of HELL. I’d probably throw a cough or two in there to plant the “I bet he’s sick, so I should stay away”-seed in my co-workers brains. Unfortch, about 42 seconds after slinking into my chair like a real slink, my pod-mate came out of the clouds with a COMPLETELY UNEXPECTED QUESTION. “So how was the Kanye show?” Not remembering to stick to the plan, I spun around in my chair and, before I could answer, she panic-blurted “Oh my god are you okay?!?!?” Evidently, I did not look well.

The rest of that day was just as you’re imagining. Shakes, sweats, bosses who just don’t understand and a king-size lunch that couldn’t come close to making me feel better. The VP told me that she…well, actually The VP still works at this place and so…uh…she didn’t do any of the things I did the night before. She was all “Jimmy, maybe take it easy? We have work tomorrow and I value my job because my bosses care about me and I care about them!” Wow, what a dedicated worker! VP!

Long story short, that is what a weeknight concert means to me now; having a legitimately concerned co-worker ask if I’m okay the next morning. Either that, or I’m sleepy and lucky enough to stand next to the sweaty guy with hairy shoulders who decided a tank-top was a MUST-WEAR for this winter concert.

So, like, yeah I don’t really like concerts much now…but I’ll totally still go if you have an extra ticket.

OUR WORLD:

It’s Friday and it’s warm out in Chicago. Drink a margarita, wear your sunglasses and DO NOT talk about next week’s forecast.

LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

This is my fave Kanye song I think…

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

This was me the morning after the Kanye show.

when-youre-at-work-hungover-af-trying-to-act-like-20092616.png

MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:

I’m not going to lie, I haven’t been gambling and I haven’t felt the urge because I’ve been BUSY LIVING LIFE GUYS! Jk, I’ve been busy doing shit I don’t really want to do and haven’t had time to do what I LOVE…which is gamble. I’ll get back into it this weekend. Also, The VP is out of town at the end of next week which means…a storm is comin’.

(My account currently at $256.83)

K bye.

Ideal Lollapalooza Line-Up and How I Got A Nickname (3/22/18)

OUR WORLD:

The lineup for Lollapalooza 2018 came out yesterday and, after looking it over, I broke into my best old-timey-Italian-chef accent and loudly proclaimed (alone, to myself, in my car) “Thissa issa Garbagio!” If you’re not familiar with Lollapalooza, A) NERD! and B) it’s a big music festival in Chicago that was supposed to be about alternative rock bands and has somehow turned into a teenage grindfest set to robot music. Now don’t get me wrong, Coach P (that’s me, FYI. A nickname I will delve into in today’s “My World”.) loved himself a good grind sesh when he was in high school/college/right-after-college-when-I-was-real-drunk-and-in-Wrigleyville, but with age comes the realization that grinding in public is WEIRD and you suddenly feely amazingly uncomfortable around anyone doing it. Like, “where are my eyes allowed to go?”-uncomfortable. Me next to grinders = Giving an exaggerated eye-roll/head shake to signify to everyone around me that I’m not a creep, then definitely watching the grinders out of the corner of my eye because when people are having sex w/ clothes on next to you, YOU WATCH! OKAY? IT’S FASCINATING! AND YEAH, MAYBE I AM GETTING A LITTLE RUSH ON THE IDEA OF BEING CAUGHT WATCHING THEM! I DON’T KNOW, I CAN’T EXPLAIN IT! (oh I can explain it…I’m dat naughty boy.) And now I have to go take a walk. I feel shame.

So that’s why people my age can’t really go to Lollapalooza anymore, and it doesn’t help that lately, the Lolla (cool Chicago lingo) music booking people seem to ONLY book bands and headliners that appeal to not only grinders, but teenage grinders. This is a no-fly-zone. I can handle the drunk, 49 year-old just-divorced-guy grinding with the 41 year-old wino because it’s funny. But, the teenage grinding is too young and too weird and like, legally, uncomfortable to be around. Real talk, I feel like I could be arrested just for happening to stand next to teenage grinders (and I’m still not positive that’s NOT the case). Even just writing about it…like, is this okay? (You’re understanding that I’m against it, right? Guys?)

Therefore, in an effort to avoid uncomfortable grinding situations, and potentially jail time, I would like to propose the 33 year-old’s perfect Lollapalooza lineup. (I am 32 now, but will be 33 in August. I wanted to point that out because The VP of Ops is 33 now and…so she’s older than me. Just wanted to state, for the record, that The VP of Ops is older than I am. Does that mean I’m a dirty dawg and she’s a cradle robbin’ nasty nancy? I don’t know. That’s for you to decide.) When creating this lineup, keep in mind: 1) It is a one-day lineup only because 33 year olds can no longer enjoy RAGING on back-to-back days. Can we do it? Of course we CAN, but the second day will be half-fun, half-holy-shit-this-hangover-is-gonna-kill-me. 2) The bands/acts chosen can NOT appeal to the teenage grinding crew. While I do like some younger pop acts (Khalid, nbd) I am not willing to risk jail time to see them perform. 3) Bands will only play TWO SONGS MAX and will play at the time of day best suited for their talents and our mood. Why only two songs? Because all of your fave bands have two songs that you LOVE and it’s always better to leave a show wanting more than pretending not to be bored with their new material. Without further ado:

Noon-2PM:

*I will say that the bands/songs I am choosing for these day-parts will not take ALL of the allotted time. Deal with it and, you know what, enjoy it. You’ll be able to go get all the beers and snacks you’d like without missing songs. You’re welcome.

Dispatch plays “The General”–Dispatch only gets this song but they’ll play it twice because it kicks ass and I don’t know any of their other songs. It’s a good song to start the day off because it’s about “taking a shower and shining your shoes” and THAT’S MORNING STUFF GUYS! Shaking the cobwebs off and getting into that first beer. No grinding in sight. (Real talk, listening to Dispatch now and their second most popular song “Only the Wild Ones” is enchanting! Am I getting into Dispatch before your very eyes?)

Counting Crows plays “Round Here” and then “Mr. Jones”–I know, I don’t like Adam Duritz’s hair either, but that doesn’t mean that these two songs aren’t solid daytime JAMS. Slow, but not too slow. Perfect sway in place music. As Mr. Jones hits it’s crescendo, you’re gonna give your friends the “It’s so on!” look…

Bone Thugs-N-Harmony plays “The Crossroads” and then “1st of Tha Month”–Oh, it is SO ON! Be careful not to stand next to the friend of yours who actually knows all of the words to these because you will be made to feel inadequate. My move with Bone Thugs? Look down wit’ my hands up during the verses only to pop up like a friggin jack-in-the-box for “MEET ME AT THE CROSSROADS, CROSSROADS!” A little hippity hoppity has completely OBLITERATED any remaining early-day cobwebs. We’re outside and having fun!

2PM-6PM:

Outkast plays “Ms. Jackson” and then “So Fresh, So Clean”–You have entered the midday party rap jam zone and it. feels. right. VP of Ops will have a consistent “I’m-smiling-as-big-as-I-can”-face throughout the duration of this zone. Again, another time when your cool friend is going to know more than just the “for eva eva?” words, but they’re gonna be nice about it. Get ready for a lot of pointing at your spouse when Outkast sings “I’m sorry Ms. Jackson!” Guess what? WE’RE ALL MS. JACKSON TODAY!

Bloc Party plays “This Modern Love” and then “Banquet”–You may not know this band off the top of your head, but they had a moment in the early 2000s where we all liked them mucho. Put these songs on and you’ll definitely say “Oh, I remember this!” to yourself. Pop-rock that plays before it’s dark is what is needed now and Bloc Party is here for you. It’s fun! It’s sweet! It’s light! Whoa, it’s picking up some! AND YOU CANNOT GRIND TO THIS!

Girl Talk plays “Play Your Part (Pt. 1)” and then “Shut The Club Down”–This is as close to robot music as we’ll get, but don’t worry, it’s not true robot music. Remember when Girl Talk was super awesome for like 2 months? The mash-up master of all the songs we liked when we were younger is exactly what this doctor ordered. Can’t have him play too late because these songs mixed with darkness = “lets-make-regrettable-decisions!” for people in their early 30s.

MGMT plays “Kids” and then “Electric Feel”–If you still don’t get excited when these songs come on the radio, do me a favor, mmmkay? Pack your shit and move to Russia cuz you, my not-friend, are up to NO GOOD. I don’t know what happened to this band after this album, but it doesn’t matter. Shooting stars shine brightest and burn out super fast or whatever the fuck that saying is. These two songs are FOREVER JAMS and the perfect entry point to dusk. Sun has begun to go down a little bit…we’ve come off the high of Girl Talk, but we’re still riding the feel-good waves.

6PM-8PM:

Kings of Leon plays “Closer” and then “Use Somebody”–God, I loved this album. As the sun starts to set, it’s time for kinda’ ominous guitars and gravely voices. Uh…check and check! “Use Somebody” is an all-time anthem that, while overplayed, I still sing outloud in my car EVERY time it comes on. Hot tip when doing that: do NOT lower the volume to see if you “actually kinda’ sound like the lead singer”…you don’t, and that realization is going to lower your self-esteem.

Green Day plays “When I Come Around” and then “Basket Case”–Before Billie Joe put on too much eye make-up and got sober, they were an absolute good-vibes-hit factory. Now, you could argue that these two slammers off “Dookie” are better daytime jams. My rebuttal? As the sun goes down, we can’t just listen to ominous rock songs one after the next. Gotta break it up with some party vibes. Enter Green Day. (This was one of the first CDs I ever bought when I was younger, and I remember my Mom asking me what “Dookie” meant. It’s pooh, Mom. Dookie is pooh.)

My Morning Jacket plays “One Big Holiday” and then “Gideon”–It’s getting dark outside, guys! That means we’re seeing some cool light shows (not too techno-y though…don’t wanna attract grinders) and GIMME THAT MY MORNING JACKET VOICE! Kinda singing, kinda yelling, with big hair and a big beard….I NEED IT! “One Big Holiday” is our energetic goodbye to the sun (LOVE YOU SUN!) and “Gideon” slowly…cautiously…opens the doors to the night…welcome to the darkness, my friends.

8PM-WHENEVER:

Queens of the Stone Age plays “You Think I Ain’t Worth A Dollar,But I Feel Like A Millionaire” and then “Go With The Flow”–Kick that fucking nighttime door down! Darkness and Josh Homme’s rockin-ass voice means one thing for Coach P: head-banging. This is the part of the night I forget that The VP of Ops is standing next to me as I head bang my way through every second of these songs. I will not move the hair out of my face cuz I’m trying to feel like the rockstar that I am not (but like…I kinda look, like it right?) The VP will roll her eyes, tell me to push my hair back and then get kinda-actually-mad when I tell her to leave me alone. Can’t wait!

Radiohead plays “Myxomatosis” and then “I Might Be Wrong”–This band was made to only be listened to at night. Your energy may be waning, and this is that cool not-too-fast-not-too-slow spooky rock you are craving. I like how weird Thom Yorke looks and acts on stage. Seriously, the weirder the better. This will be a continuation of me pissing of The VP of Ops when I kinda’ do my Thom Yorke impression by flailing my arms around and shaking like I’m being electrocuted. Oh, also “I Might Be Wrong” has my favorite opening instrumental part of any rock song ever. It goes like “boom doom boom doom doom”-you know what just listen to it. K.

Jay-Z and Kanye play the entire “Watch The Throne” album–You thought you were done getting hyphy?!?!? (I don’t really know exactly what that word means, but it sounds right). This album is blue flames hot hot hot and anytime I hear it, it’s like the first time. EVERYONE IN THE UNIVERSE LOVES THIS ALBUM. There will be cool lights, weird floaty stage things cuz of Kanye and The VP of Ops will do the scrunch-face thing that makes her look tough and cool at the same time. I will probably try to do some sort of sway dance moves that I’m not young enough to pull off, but I. WILL. NOT. CARE.

Who wants to start a letter campaign with me to get Lollapalooza to actually run this lineup? No? Okay, just meet the VP and I at our apartment on Lolla-day this year cuz I will be playing this lineup LOUD. (Can you bring some Rose’? Thanks!)

MY WORLD:

Some of my friends call me “Coach P” and it’s probably my favorite thing in the world. You wanna see me light up like a rich man’s Christmas tree? Call me “Coach”. How did I get such a baller bad boy nickname? I kinda’ forced it. Those people that say you can’t force a nickname, I would like to introduce you to my nutz cuz I JUST DUNKED ON YOU! (Both my mother and my mother-in-law read this and I do not feel good about writing the nutz thing. Sorry ladies. ‘Member when I did the dishes after Christmas dinner?)

A few years back, I talked my friends into joining the VP of Ops and I at a divey bowling alley called “Fireside”. It’s in the movie “The Break-Up” if that helps. If not, imagine your favorite dive bar has the bowling alley from “The Big Lebowski” behind it. Yeah, it’s pretty effin’ sweet.

I was in my chubbo phase, so I dressed extra dad-like to play off my appearance as a joke. “Fat? Guys, it’s a joke!”

*Real tip: if you’re getting bigger, start dressing worse. If you buy cool, bigger clothes your friends are just going to notice that you’re wider. If you start wearing kinda funny, out-of-style clothes, your friends will just make fun of you for being a bad dresser, but you’ll act like you do it cuz it’s funny. It will piss off your spouse, but “it’s called a joke, ever heard of it!?!?!”

So, wearing loose khakis and probably a dope quarter-zip, I kinda took on this “Coach-like” character at the bowling lanes. I was drinking vodka out of a clear plastic cup because I WAS WATCHING MY WEIGHT and “Fireside” serves everything in clear plastic cups. Being awful at bowling, I figured I should give The VP of Ops very gruff, pointed tips on how she could be better. I would use this gravely voice and huff and puff around acting like her gutter-balls were actually disappointing me. I was the old man bowling coach who lived above the lanes and only drank cheap vodka. My “lessons” included yelling “Roll the ball!” and “Again!” at The VP of Ops. She did not find this character as humorous as I did.

Thankfully, my comedic-genius of a friend, Jamie, started calling me “Coach P” during this routine and IT STUCK LIKE WHEN YOU WEAR A SHIRT OUT OF THE DRYER BUT YOU FORGOT TO PUT THE DRYER SHEET IN WHEN YOU STARTED THE DRYER. Now, did me correcting everyone to only call me “Coach P” for the rest of the night have something to do with it sticking? Listen, I’m not a judge. Okay? I’m not a judge. I’m a coach.

Coach P.

LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

There’s an ad at the beginning, but it’s worth it. (If you are my parent or a parent of The VP of Ops…maybe skip this?)

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

This is the type of robot music that plays at Lollapalooza now as everyone grinds and makes the older people stay in the back. I can listen to this when I work out (yeah, I work out. Whatever.) But, I’m not listening to this in public at a rave. I just can’t. Also, as I played this song on my computer’s speakers, Belle made an audible “can you turn that off now?”-sound.

MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:

Guess what haters? I WON MY BET LAST NIGHT!!! To all of you who told me that “maybe gambling isn’t for you” or “do you really have enough disposable income to do this?” SHUT UP. Bet it feels bad to be such a stupid idiot! I just, can’t believe that people actually doubted my gambling abilities. Why do we fall down? To get back up! Well, I’m up and I’m ready to carry you all the way to the bank! No better way to re-enter into NCAA Tourney picks than this. You feeling great? I’M FEELING GREAT! Give me Nevada, Texas A&M, Kentucky and Gonzaga tonight. Hope you like getting rich.

(My account currently at $40.71)

K bye.

My Last Weed Experience and Movie Reviews (3/21/18)

MY WORLD:

I’ve fallen into this routine when I write these blog posts (aka yet-to-be-truly-discovered-voice-of-a-generation-masterpieces) where I listen to the same three songs as I start to write. From Dave Matthews Band’s Live Trax Vol. 6: Fenway Park, I listen to “The Idea of You”, “Grey Street” and “Bartender”. From there, I’ll usually drift into some cool underground artist that you probably haven’t even heard of so, like, don’t even try (Oh…you HAVE heard of Sia?) Between these songs and the lingering pot smoke I detected on my morning walk with Belle (of course I immediately called the Police), I was reminded of the day I realized that I couldn’t smoke pot anymore; the last time I went to a Dave Matthews Band concert.

I’m going to say it was the Summer of 2013 because 2011-2015 is basically the same to me now, and I don’t remember exactly and I don’t want to look it up so…SUMMER OF 2013! My brother Matthew, my roommate Dave and myself bought tickets to see DMB at Alpine Valley, a little Wisconsin farm town a couple hours outside of Chicago. Yes, I did realize I was seeing Dave Matthews Band with guys named Dave and Matthew and, yes, I did bring this up at least 19 times throughout the day.

My brother met Dave and I at our apartment for the pre-concert pump-up session that is needed before any big show. This PCPU (pre-concert pump-up…come on, keep up) consisted of playing Dave Matthews Band songs LOUD while drinking beers and going through what songs we NEEDED to hear at the concert later. (I love how during every PCPU, you’ll say something about how disappointed you’ll be if they don’t play a certain song and then you feel the need to KEEP BRINGING IT UP to the people around you during the show. Nobody cares. Let’s not do that anymore.) After a few beers and shots (oh my god guys, shots?) it was time for us to make our way to the meet-up where shuttle buses were taking people from Chicago to Alpine Valley.

I know people paint the picture of typical DMB fans wearing cargo shorts, and pookah shell necklaces, and, I don’t know, other sweet-ass shit, but I never notice that. And I didn’t this time as we waited with the cargo-shorts wearing masses to get on the buses. Whenever I’ve gone to a Dave show I just notice that everyone around me is pretty nice and excited. (Suck it hipsters.) So while I would love to recount some “you wouldn’t believe how bro-ey these bros were”-stories, I just remember people being nice and excited. (Make something up Jimmy! This is boring!) As we got on the bus, however, I do remember IMMEDIATELY panicking that there was no way I was getting out of smoking weed today.

Right after college, I got pretty good with weed. I could wake and bake and do fun stuff like go swing on the swings at a park where I was the only person above the age of 7 (ya know, fun-not-creepy-at-all stuff like that!) I worked in a restaurant, had a good relationship with a dealer and really enjoyed getting stoned to watch movies. But I lived alone, and that meant getting stoned alone far too often…which leads to solo freak outs in the dark. (Tonight’s plan? Get home. Smoke. Eat an entire bag of Tostitos with queso. Freak out about my future in bed. CAN’T WAIT!) After one too many of those “I’m an absolute failure in life forever”-freakouts, I swore off the sneaky smokey treat.

But then I’m sitting on a bus surrounded by nice, excited people, no! Friends! WE WERE ALL FRIENDS ON THAT BUS! Sitting in thin clouds of pot smoke, I was thinking “I mean, all my friends on this bus seem to be handling marijuana quite well. Frankly, they seem to be enjoying themselves QUITE a bit! Therefore, I have decided that I am cured of my weed-freakouts and will, again, partake in that sneaky smokey treat.” Actually, it was much more out of a fear of being labeled as a lame-o that I told Dave and Matthew that I’d smoke with them when we got off the bus.

Dave and Matthew acted excited about me agreeing to smoke with them. That is because they had never had a front-row seat to my weed freakouts. Ignorance is bliss, friends. We arrived at Alpine, got off the bus and snuck behind…well, we didn’t really have to hide because everybody in that world was smoking weed. So Dave pulled out his bowl and I took a hit. It wasn’t a massive coughing-fit hit, but I held it in like a pro and gave a pretty dope head nod to my brother Matthew as if to say “Y’all know me, still the same old G.” I was cool weed guy for, approximately, the next 8 seconds. Then I made Dave give me his sunglasses and got REAL quiet. (Oh no…Jimmy Freakout has entered the building!)

As we made our way to the lawn area, I made my way into my brain to begin the weed freakout in public routine. Paranoid about my heart racing, I decided a beer would help slow it down. WRONGO! It was dusk and I was keeping these stolen sunglasses over my eyes like my life depended on it. Seriously, if Dave took those sunglasses back, my body would have eyes would have melted and my body would have exploded and my Mom would have been all “I can’t believe my son exploded from weed!” Dave and Matthew seemed to be doing okay, but we were all quiet.

Dave ran into people he knew and introduced me in my sunglasses-in-the-dark self to them. I was thankful to Dave for this because when you’re stoned to the point of almost crying, meeting a complete stranger is EXACTLY what you want to do. (Hello, my name is Name. Good to name you. Name!) The show began and my symptoms only grew. Why was it so fucking loud?!?! I was positive that everyone around me was talking about why I was wearing sunglasses in the pitch black. (Because I’m scared! Okay? I’m so scared!) I tried to get into the music, threw a few fake “I’m having fun”-smiles at Dave and Matthew and attempted to kinda dance. I’m sure it looked more like an adult with cryface who was having a mild seizure. I absolutely needed a really firm hug from someone telling me “it’s going to be okay”…and I really had to pee.

Like, I really really really had to go pee, but it was dark and super crowded. I thought if I tried to make my way to the bathroom, that I’d never be able to find Dave and Matthew again when I came back. My brain evaluating the future = I’d search frantically for my sweet brother and brave roommate only to realize that they had already gotten on the bus back to Chicago…and I didn’t know anyone else there…and I would die alone in the lawn pavilion amidst concert debris at Alpine Valley. Hold it or die was my choice. I saw a guy near me pee into a bottle and I was very jealous of his pee-courage. I looked down at a water bottle near me, but it was too crowded and people were definitely looking at me like “don’t even think about pissing in that bottle near me.” Like, at one point I leaned down to maybe grab the empty bottle and I’m pretty sure a guy pointed a machine-gun at me and said “not another move.”

Whether he just sensed me nearing a heart attack or actually heard me mutter “help!”, Dave came to the rescue. He had to go to the bathroom, did I want to go? I LOVE YOU DAVE! Thing is, Dave is a very fast, aggressive walker and he took off like he was in a race. I did the half-jog-half-I-cant-walk-this-fast-naturally thing to keep up. He stormed through the crowd in a way that I can only describe as magnificent. Keeping up with this magnificent storm was difficult and so I did what any self-respecting adult male would do. I jogged to get real close to him and grabbed his hand when he swung it back. Like a little brother holding on for dear life was me clutching onto Dave’s paw. (I’m not dying in Alpine tonight!)

Post-pee (oh yeah, I kept an eye on where Dave was the entire time we were in the bathroom) we met outside the bathroom. Now, I don’t know if this next part is completely true, but it’s how I remember it…Dave looked at me and I looked at Dave the way a dog looks at it’s owner walking out of the door with a suitcase. (Don’t leave me). And Dave extended his hand. I will never be more excited to hold hands with anyone ever again. He led me back to our lawn area like a true gentleman. When I got back, my brother Matthew said “Jesus, this weed is freaking me out.” THANK GOD! I’M NOT ALONE!!! WE’RE IN THIS TOGETHER!!!

The rest of the concert consisted of all of us talking over the music about how bad we were handling the weed. It was comforting, but still scary because we were all still kinda stoned. We chugged water and gatorade and didn’t listen to the show because all that mattered was getting back to sober. Ever have that feeling? Like, you would DO ANYTHING to just get back to zero on the effed-up scale? I would’ve taken a punch from Godzilla if that would have sobered me up.

That was the last time I smoked weed (basically). And here we are 5ish years later and guess who is going to the June 30 Dave Matthews Band concert? Me, Dave and Matthew. I hear CBD is pretty chill.

OUR WORLD:

With our sports teams dying on the vine and weather that is still shitty enough to justify staying inside FOREVER, I figured I’d help you out by reviewing the movies currently playing at the theater near my apartment. (Movie date? Movie date!) Now, I have not seen all these movies, but I will review them anyway and not tell you whether I saw it or not. Think of it as a fun guessing game.

The Shape of Water: Not as good as you want it to be. Get ready to look at your date a few times to make sure if they’re okay with fish sex. Michael Shannon is cool. Jimmy Rating = “Good, ya’ know, not great. Good though.”

7 Days in Entebbe: More like 7 Days in NOTHANKYOUtebbe (sick burn Jimbo!) Do you like seeing movies with actors you’ve never heard of about a thing you never knew happened? Well actually, sometimes I do because then I can talk about it like “I can’t believe you haven’t heard of the 1976 Air France hijacking!” This movie is no bueno, but it allows you to sound smarter than your friends. Jimmy Rating = “Even though it wasn’t very good, I know more than you because I saw this movie.”

A Wrinkle in Time: Oprah, magic and people whispering “this isn’t as good as the book.” I didn’t read this book and I don’t appreciate everyone making me feel like a dummy for that. Jimmy Rating = “Nah, I’m good.”

The Death of Stalin: I supported Stalin dying, so I support this movie. Jimmy Rating = “You don’t?”

Thoroughbreds: A couple girls try to kill a mean dad and then a skinny guy who kinda looks like Elijah Wood (but isn’t Elijah Wood) shows up to thwart their plan. Don’t hate the plot, but it is hard to get over the “I’m just not sure that isn’t Elijah Wood” whisper-fight you’ll get into with your date during this movie. Jimmy Rating = “IT’S NOT ELIJAH WOOD!”

Red Sparrow: Jennifer Lawrence as a sexy, ass-kicking spy with a bad haircut. Sounds like a winner until you realize that no one has talked about his movie since it came out like 3 weeks ago. That can’t be a good sign. Jimmy Rating = “Maybe in 18 months when the VP of Ops is out of town and I’m drunk and there’s nothing else on demand.”

Annihilation: Weird, artsy sci-fi where Natalie Portman looks to the sky a lot and the people around her tell her to “get back!” It’s good, but you won’t get it because you don’t like art, so just skip it and watch another episode of Spongebob. Jimmy Rating = “You just don’t get it.”

LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

The time you realized you’re not good at drugs. (Sigh…)

MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:

I didn’t gamble last night and I really wanted to. I even sent out a trial balloon text to my gambling crew about putting some money on the Blazers (+4.5). No response = no bet…and then the Blazers lost by 4 AND WE WOULD’VE WON! DAMNIT! Back to gambling tonight because I am done with zero action nights. Put the mortgage on Cavs (-1.5) over the Raptors.

(My account currently at $28.21)

K bye.