The Clubs I Would Like Entry Into

MY WORLD:

Mike Jones is a Houston rapper who rapped something about saying “Mike Jones? Who?” years ago and there are people my age joking about people who don’t know who Mike Jones is. Confused? If so, you better be careful, or you’ll end up like I did–sitting in a car laughing nervously about this “joke” while praying that the other people in the car didn’t turnaround and go “please explain this Mike Jones joke to the class, Jimmy!!!” I have no idea who Mike Jones is, still, but the people who do know who he is sounded very cool and current and alternative and COOL! So like, can I become one of those people? Can I become a “I know about cool rap stuff”-guy?

There are little groups bonded around things I don’t know about, that I’m jealous of. If you think that jealousy ends when you graduate from High School, try spending a weekend around people who know about things like Mike Jones and it’ll take you right back (tell them the story about how you used to hide in the library and eat your lunch! That’s a fun one!) While sitting in the back of a car resisting the urge to say “this Mike Jones character sure sounds spunky!” I started thinking about things, activities, and topics that I, as a 34 year old MAN, think I would like to get into at some point (unless I’m like not allowed to because that group is already full and they just can’t fit one more person into it. I mean, it’s fine, I don’t even really care. I was actually not even really interested to begin with, so it’s like, whatever. Okay…I’m gonna go back to the library now!)

Here is the Jimmyschair list of “Things I Think I’d Like to Get Into Maybe? If it’s cool? If it’s not cool, though, that’s fine. I’m just like, chill, whatever. That hat is really cool by the way. So we’ll talk later? Or not. Whatever.”:

HIKING:

Did hiking exist before Instagram? One of nature’s great unknowns, huh? It feels like a large group of the people I follow on THE GRAM (make sure you keep saying cool slang like that so people know you’re not a cop!) got together one morning and were like “alright, does everyone have their big backpack, short shorts, and sporty brown hiking boots? Nobody tell Jimmy about this! DANIEL? YOU DIDN’T TELL JIMMY ABOUT THE BIG COOL BACKPACK STORE DID YOU?!?!?! DANIEL!?!?!” Then Daniel was all “I haven’t talked to Jimmy since the Mike Jones incident,” so the group started up the hill, taking beautiful pictures meant to clog my instagram feed and make me feel VERY EXCLUDED (maybe if your thighs weren’t so big, you’d be invited to the cool, tiny shorts store!)

I don’t even know what hiking really is. Like, if I eat a Cliff Bar and then walk up a big hill in my old Brooks running shoes, did I just go hiking? I’m pretty sure rocks have to be involved on some level, so what if part of that hill walk includes me going over a gravel driveway? And the tiny tan shorts with a lot of pockets? Those are necessary for a hike, right? Like, if I wear my big white Indiana University mesh shorts while doing this uphill walk, it doesn’t count does it? DAMNIT!

At some point over the past few years, I think a professional Hiking Judge saw me buy a Cliff Bar at a 7-11 and ruled that I was guilty of “buying a Cliff bar as a treat, and not for sustenance during an Instagram-worthy trek uphill,” before sentencing me to “not a legit hiker”-jail for life. It was a tough sentence, but looking back, I understand. Why was I buying a nearly 300 calorie bar when all I was just going to be sitting in traffic for the next hour on my way home? Stern, but fair.

But is there any opportunity for parole? I’d love to find my way out of “not a legit hiker”-jail, so I, too, could be in a picture while wearing a big backpack at the top of a beautiful hill. What a feeling that must be! (And the Instagram likes! MY GOD, THE LIKES!!!) I imagine once you’re accepted into this group, you get some really cool perks like getting to eat a Cliff Bar and not having the 300 calories count because your body knows that you’re a hiker and need that stuff to push through all the rocks you’re gonna have to awkwardly step on.

Dear REI Store Worker,

Next time I walk in, I promise to pretend to know what kind of boot I’m buying and to not ask “which one do you think looks cool, though?” It’s all about utility, I get it. Looks? Don’t even care.

SNEAKERS:

A good amount of my friends talk about online sneaker releases, secondary markets for sneakers they bought a few months ago, and the basketball shoes that some non-mega-star has coming out that are “amazing!” I have no idea what they’re ever talking about, so I’ll throw in cheap jokes meant to throw them off my insecure scent. “You guys see the new ‘Gary Levinson’s’? No? They’re the new Brooks running shoes for suburban dads who can’t really run anymore because of their knees.”

BUT! They sound pretty cool talking about the “New Kawhi’s” and the new “Paul George” shoes and…I don’t even know if I’m supposed to fucking call them shoes or sneakers. I feel like a gym teacher from the 80s calling them sneakers, but then I swear I’ve heard a DJ on Hip Hop Radio Station use the word “sneakers” and sound cool so…What is it?!?! SHOES OR SNEAKERS?!?! GIVE ME A SIGN, GOD! GIVE ME A SIGN!

These guys are also able to pull off the new basketball sneaker/shoe with skinny jeans look, and that’s kinda unfair when I’m having a hard enough time pulling off the running shoe with relaxed jeans look (you’ve got the “suburban surrender”-look down pat!) Whenever I’m around someone NAILING this look, all I can think about is “aren’t you scared of getting those dirty? And how have they not gotten ONE SPEC OF DIRT ON THEM?!?! DO YOU HAVE SOMEONE FOLLOWING YOU AROUND WIPING YOUR SHOES WITH DISINFECTANT WIPES!?!?!” Also, do you play basketball in those shoes too? Or is that like a lame thing to do? I’m pretty sure there is one set of basketball shoes meant for skinny jeans, and then another set of basketball shoes meant for…actually playing basketball, and if you mix the two up, you’re kicked out of the sneaker guy club forever.

Last time I played basketball, I wore Brooks.

SCARY MOVIES:

I’m just tired of feeling the compulsion to blurt out “they give me nightmares” anytime the topic of scary movies comes up around me. It’s not a cool look. I’m also pretty sure that the people around me are annoyed that they can’t talk about some make-believe monsters because the 34 year old dude next to them, wearing Brooks and a small backpack, will get scared when he goes seepy at night if they do. (Here’s an idea: quit being a fucking baby, Jimmy!)

So can I just decide to stop being a baby? Is there a pill I can take that will cause me to enjoy scenes where teenagers get stabbed by a guy wearing a mask at a cabin in the woods? The people that seem to really enjoy scary movies, REALLY FUCKING ENJOY SCARY MOVIES AND LOVE TALKING ABOUT THEM! Hey guys, I love talking about stuff! Being able to talk about brutal murders while smiling also connotes a brand of “bad-assery” that I wouldn’t mind being a part of. It’s a high-wire act between bad-assery and “hey, do you think Eric liked that torture scene a little too much?” Once you master it, you’ll be as cool as Nick Wallenda walking in between skyscrapers (minus the weird family stuff going on there…)

There has to be an age you reach, where you’re just like “I pay bills and talk about politics with relatives, I can watch ‘Scream’ without softly whimpering into my pillow later. Is that age 34? CAN IT PLEASE BE 34?!?!

OUR WORLD:

I’m going on an impromptu, not-fun road trip to Kentucky today and so, of course, I will be allowed to cheat on my diet because road trip calories don’t count. Here are the Top 10 “Road Trip Treats”:

Gardetto’s Snack Mix
McDonald’s breakfast
BBQ Pringles
Chick-Fil-A waffle fries with Chick-Fil-A sauce
Teriyaki Beef Jerky
Honey roasted peanuts
Gummy worms
White chocolate and macadamia nut Cliff Bar
Diet Mountain Dew
7-11 Coke Slushy

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

When you get that feeling in the back of your throat that means you’re about to get sick, but you’re not TOTALLY sick yet. It’s like walking around with a bomb strapped to your chest AND YOU CAN’T GET THAT TICKING SOUND OUT OF YOUR HEAD!

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

I don’t know this person, but…

cheering young woman hiker open arms at mountain peak

JIMMY GAMBLES:

I’m at $0 right now and feeling lost. I want to gamble on something but I’m tired of baseball and I think I’m really bad at this thing. But…what if I’m not? What if I just need to…yep….STAY THE FUCKING COURSE!!!

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.

The Early 30s St. Patrick’s Day

OUR WORLD:

St. Patrick’s Day is tomorrow, Saturday, and Chicagoans in their early 30s have decided, unanimously, that they are okay with watching the world pass them by. Miller Lite sunglasses that you got for free 6 years ago, your only green shirt that’s kinda too tight, a group e-mail chain organizing a trolley and arguing over who is paying who for the 19 handles of Fireball? We’re too old for this shit, guys. Green beer? Kids. Wrigleyville? Bros? UH, NO THANKS! Maybe we’ll go grab a beer, but we’re past the days of car-bomb breakfasts. How about us, huh? We just don’t need it. Sure, we’re old. Hey, now that we’re 32, we have other interests that bring me more joy and no hangover. Hey bros, try a game night while sipping a few well made sessionable pale ales! Hops? No, I’m not talking about “What Lebron’s still got”. Idiots.

Now go to your tiny bathroom, look in the mirror and ask yourself the following question: but, what if? Let it linger. What if you, not just you, what if WE let go of our defense mechanisms, ignored how self conscience and jaded we have become and tried to smile again? Go ahead and smile in the mirror. YOU KNOW I’M SUCH A FOOL FOR YOU. YOU’VE GOT ME WRAPPED AROUND YOUR FINGERRRR A-UH-UH. DO YOU HAVE TO LET IT LINGER? DO YOU HAVE TO? DO YOU HAVE TO? DO YOU HAVE TO LET IT LINGER? Guys, lets grab that kinda-too-small green tee for one last dance.

Send out a text to your friends asking what everyone is doing for St. Patty’s tomorrow. It’s okay, you can cut it with a little joke like “don’t worry, I’ll get the Fireball handle. Lol.” Haha…but you’re kinda hoping they don’t laugh. And maybe, just maybe, they won’t. Maybe they’ll chuckle at first and send something back like “Omg. Can you even imagine?” But that’s the thing, you can imagine. And they can too. That’s when someone, YOU! needs to send the “I mean, why not?”-text. (EXPLOSION SOUNDS)

“Honey, Jimmy, you know that friend of mine who can wear anything because he makes everything look good?”

“Oh, I like him. He’s fun.”

“Yeah, well he just texted ‘why not?”

“About…no! Not about-”

“St. Patrick’s Day. Yeah.”

In our story, you can be Jimmy. You can be the person to send the text that causes couples to look at each other in silence for 8 seconds before the fun one says “I mean, it’s not like we have anything else to do.” And so it begins. You don’t have plans on Sunday, so hangover recovery will take precedence and the weather is supposed to be shitty Sunday anyways, so it’s not like you’re wasting a day. And look, even if the hangover lasts into Monday, I mean, it’s Monday! You’ll be back up to speed by Tuesday at the latest. “Why not?” turns to “what if?” turns to “I’ll make green jello shots.” Guards begin to lower their rifles and friends start tossing out their favorite St. Patrick’s Day “remember when?”-texts. Momentum has built and the only turning back that’s happening now is happening to your clocks. (Did you get that? Like a “turn back the clocks” joke. It sounded good in my head, but I’m not sure it translated. Is explaining it helping?)

It’s too late to get a trolley and, honestly, that’s for the best (wait, you know about a last-minute deal?) Trolley’s are too risky on St. Pat’s because it may be cold and you don’t wanna have to cover up that hot tee with a puffy coat all day (GET OFF ME PUFF!) What we, you?…no, we, what we should do is meet at a the friend’s place who has the nicest outdoor area. If it is warm, you’re gonna wanna bag those early spring rays. So you meet at Davey Big Deck’s place around 11am. Not too early, but day drinking is fun and this may be your last dance so…MAY I HAVE THIS DANCE?

Start off with some smiles and “it’s really happening!”-embraces. The excitement of this unexpected gathering will intoxicate most guests immediately upon arrival. Pour yourself a bloody in a red plastic cup, and you know what? I’ll have one too! Someone probably brought candied bacon for the bloody’s (perks of being over 30 is that people put effort into things like bacon!) Tunes are playing on Davey Big Deck’s nice speakers and, wait! What’s that sound?!?! THAT’S NELLY Y’ALL! HOT SHIT!!! YOU CAN FIND ME IN ST. LOUIS ROLLIN’ ON DUBS!

Mean mugs and shoulder shrugs are aplenty as we move from Bloody’s to Lite’s to Guinness to…MARK BROUGHT FIREBALL! NCAA tourney games play on Davey Big Deck’s dope ass big tv that’s way better than yours but today isn’t a day for jealousy but FUCK I’M JEALOUS. I ADMIT IT, I’M JEALOUS! You’ll get together with a few buds and determine that the only way to win a 6 team moneyline parlay is to place the bet four solo-cup drinks deep and pick the teams on “gut feelings”-only. Making money is easy, guys.

I won’t lie, there will be some adversity. A couple will have a not-as-muted-as-they-think fight in a corner. Bill will appoint himself DJ a few hours in to play his favorite Doo-Wop songs and everyone will wonder who has the stones to tell him Doo-Wop STINKS AND IS KILLING THE FUCKING MOOD! You’ll probably need to order the food yourself and, jeez, that’s always scary trying to Venmo-collect from everyone afterwards, but today is a day of risk taking so let ‘er rip!

When you get the pizza from the delivery driver, you should announce to the room “DID SOMEBODY SAY PIZZA?!?!” They didn’t, but they’ll cheer and you’ll get slapped on the back. It’s nicer than expected outside, guys! I don’t have to wear my coat! (you’ll get cold pretty quick, but this is the time you pretend it’s not that cold).

I will leave you there because this is not just my story…this is our story and we can all write our own endings to that simple question you’re gonna ask yourself in tomorrow’s morning mirror: “What if?”

MY WORLD:

I’m in a really good mood right now because I listened to “Linger” by The Cranberries and “Country Grammar” by Nellie on repeat for the past couple hours. LET’S HAVE A FUCKING FRIDAY PEOPLE!!!

LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

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:

Yesterday was a dark, dark day where I went 1-10 on games I put money on. I’m not here to talk about the past. However, I am staying dark due to me thinking that this blog is cursing my gambling….AW SCREW IT, LET’S HAMMER PROVIDENCE!

(My account currently at $55.17)

K bye.