MetroDad

Text Messaging for Dummies: Vol. 4

As I've mentioned before, I can't stand text messaging. Typing in those short bursts always makes me feel like a Japanese school girl. I'm old school. You want to communicate with me? Just pick up the phone and call.

Unfortunately, most of my friends know how much I hate texting so they go out of their way to bombard me with random text messages.

Thankfully, most of my friends are a little off-beat and tend to share my sense of humor. I also have to admit that some of their texts are pretty entertaining. That's why I like saving them until my phone's memory can't hold them any longer.

The following are all about to get purged so I thought I'd write them down here for posterity:

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"Does the 3-second rule still apply when you've dropped a baby?"

"Time will eventually show that Vanilli was the more talented of the two."

"I'll bet the hardest part of being a sushi chef is cutting the heads off mermaids."

"Do you think Ben Affleck makes Jennifer Garner put on a hat and pretend she's Matt Damon?"

"Carrie Fisher looks like the love child of Sharon Osborne and Dana Carvey."

"Your daughter couldn't find her classmates at Korean school. She said 'THEY ALL LOOK THE SAME!'"

"Hey, you're a foodie. What kind of tacos go well with self-loathing?"

"I have a date tonight and instead of taking Cialis, I think I took an Ambien by mistake. Uh oh."

"I don't mind listening to friends cry but I hate when their tears get in my french fries."

"There's a fine line between dressing like Cinderella and Jon Benet Ramsey."

"Do they make condoms for livers?"

"Chinese food is always better with my eyes closed."

"Wait 5 minutes. I'm about to send you pictures of my vasectomy!"

"Just got a prostate exam from my uncle. Don't think Thanksgiving is ever going to be the same again."

"Why are the Asian children reading books while standing in line at Whole Foods? And all the white urchins are running around with ADD?"

"Does Carl Sr know that his son gives people diarrhea?"

"New million dollar idea: Red Bull smoothies with nicotine in them!"

"If you and Italian Pocahontas had kids, they'd either be amazingly gorgeous or freakishly ugly."

"Don't worry, dude. We'll always be friends. You know way too much."

"Just out of curiosity, how much do you think tits weigh?"

"My daughter just tried to put me in a time-out."

"Do you think it's fair that black people get the entire month of February, while fat people only get a Tuesday?"

"Didn't know you hated cats as much as I do. We should exchange recipes."

"Here's her number. No pressure. Just know that if you screw this up, I will fucking kill you!!!"

"If I were Korean, my rap name would be 2-Pak."

"Wife says old people sleep in separate beds because of the snoring. I say it's because they don't want to wake up next to a dead body. What do you think?"

"Not going to her wedding. Told her I'd go to her next one. She said ok."

"Please, fool! I was doing that back in the 80's while you were teasing your hair and practicing your backhand."

"Hey, I need to speak to you but my phone is dying. Call me on this number when you get a chance. 401-285-0701. It's important!"

P.S. Feel free to send that last text message to all your friends. It's funny to see how they react.

What's the most random text message that YOU ever received?  An inquiring mind wants to know.

Confessions of a Reality TV addict

Normally I never watch Hollywood-type awards shows because the only thing I hate more than celebrities is the mind-numbing public adoration of them.

If you spend any time with actors or actresses, the first thing you notice is how little they have to say. In fact, any real substance is inversely related to how much they like to talk. Most of them tend to be intellectually bereft vessels of abject need with over-sized egos as fragile as Tiger Woods' marriage.

Their constant need for approval and attention is usually only matched by their sense of self-righteousness and entitlement. I have a pet theory that the only people with similar psychological make-ups are serial killers, pro athletes, U.S. Senators and brain surgeons.

Fuck, I forgot where I was going with all this.

Oh yeah...awards shows.

Last week, I was watching the Academy Awards on television with a few friends. As we were talking, we realized that none of us had watched any of the movies that were nominated for awards. In fact, a few of hadn't even heard of the nominated movies.

This was surprising for many reasons. Here we were, a bunch of Ivy-educated, successful, cosmopolitan, cultured and sophisticated New Yorkers---yet we could barely remember the last time we'd even been to the movies.

We're all voracious readers. We attend concerts, plays, lectures, art exhibits, and other cultural events. Yet when it came to film, how was it possible that we were so far removed from the cultural zeitgeist?

As the night went on, we began to analyze the depths of our situation and realized that our primary source of entertainment these days came solely from one singular source.

Reality television.

That's right. Give us Jersey Shore, American Idol, Real Housewives, The Bachelor, America's Next Top Model, Top Chef, Biggest Loser, Extreme Home Makeover, Intervention, America's Best Dance Crew, Hell's Kitchen, The Millionaire Matchmaker, Celebrity Apprentice---the list literally goes on and on. 

Now, I'm sure there's a Marshall McLuhan scholar out there who can explain how reality television merely reflects who we are as a society. Surely, our love of these shows connotes something about our values, doesn't it? Are they simply guilty pleasures or is there a deeper subtext to our devotion to them?

Quite honestly, I don't know and I don't care.

The only meta question I ever ask myself about reality television is when I'm watching "Cops" and I think, "Why the hell is that crazy bitch running down the street in her underwear?"

Don't get me wrong. I'm not judgmental. The creator of "Cops" is actually a close family friend and while I disagree with his view that the show is a revolutionary mise-en-scene study of urban decay in modern America, I am extremely envious of the fact that his toughest daily decision is which private jet to fly to his private winery. 

I just can't believe how pervasive reality television has become. More importantly, I can't believe how much I enjoy it.

My favorite reality shows are the voyeuristic "fly on a wall" shows like "Jersey Shore" or "Housewives." Watching people voluntarily auction off their privacy and openly humiliate themselves for two minutes of fame is the television equivalent of sitting down on your couch to watch a impending train wreck. I can't get enough of it.

Personally, I could never subject myself to this level of invasion of privacy. Last year, a television production company approached me about turning MetroDad into a reality television show...starring myself. 

First, I told them I couldn't imagine anything more boring in the entire universe. Second, I explained that when I'm by myself, I do things that I would never do if I knew I was being videotaped. I'm not just talking about picking my nose or farting on my daughter's head. Hell, I clip my fingernails with my mouth. I guzzle hot sauce right out of the bottle. And while I'm ashamed to admit it, most of my free time is spent lying on the couch naked reading the New Yorker while eating beef jerky and sipping scotch. Not exactly titillating entertainment.

Aside from the voyeuristic reality shows (which I like to think that I enjoy purely from a socio-anthropological basis,) my other favorite reality TV shows are of the competition-based genre.

Although I'm not the hugest fan of the show, my daughter absolutely LOVES watching "American Idol." It's one of our favorite shows to watch together. As an ardent fan of democracy, I enjoy the populist approach to selection that the show offers. However, I've always been amazed at the show's enormous popularity. Every week, tens of millions of Americans tune in to watch and cast their votes. It's truly revolutionized television.

My only theory on the show's success is based on the fact that everyone knows tits sell. And who on television has bigger tits than Simon Cowell?

People seem to still love "Survivor." Personally I have a very soft spot in my heart for "Survivor." My favorite season was the one where they divided teams based on race. The fact that Korean-American superhero Yul Kwon won the entire competition had an enormous impact on my life. For a brief period, he was the most famous Asian-American person on the planet. For an even briefer period of time, people on the subway stopped saying to me, "You know who you look like? Margaret Cho!"

In all seriousness, I don't know where reality television can go next. I'd love to see networks take things to the next level and start double-layering the shows and cross-pollinating concepts.

Like how about having the "Housewives of New York" take on the cast of "Jersey Shore" in a "Survivor"-type battle of the fittest on a remote island somewhere in the South Pacific? Wouldn't you pay big money to see Kelly Bensimon beat the crap out of Snookie?

Or maybe we need to re-invent the genre so that we're all stars in our own reality show. I have several ideas for shows in this genre. However, the one I'm pitching next season is called "Are You Really Going to Eat All That?" and it involves simply mounting video cameras atop the carving station at The Old Country Buffet. 

Anyway, I could probably go on and on for hours about my love of reality television. My theory on why reality television appeals to the highly intelligent alone could take up another 5 pages. Unfortunately, I've got to stop writing right now.

Why?

Because Bravo is running a "Millionaire Matchmaker" marathon, bitches!

By the way, please tell me I'm not alone in my love of reality television. What's your favorite reality show? And why do you enjoy it so much? C'mon. Spill it. An inquiring mind wants to know.

Kicking the Tires: Adventures in Alternative Medicine

Anyone in their 40's who says that age is just a number is either (1) spending a small fortune on cosmetic surgery, or (2) dating a twenty-year-old.

I am currently forty-one and for the most part, I feel pretty good. However, I've got to admit that maintaining my health and physical appearance has NEVER been harder. If my body were a car, I'd say that it still runs decently but it sure as hell spends a lot of time in the shop these days.

I was recently telling a woman how my body has been banged up with all these little nicks and dents. I had a non-cancerous cyst on my forehead that needed to be removed. My sinuses have been a mess all winter. I sprained an ankle that has limited my mileage on the treadmill. I haven't been sleeping well. My appendix was removed several months ago. And last week, I was in the OR to have an abscess surgically excised. Also, for some reason, my body seems to have developed an insatiable craving for burgers and soup dumplings. 

The woman turned to me and said, "Have you ever thought about alternative medicine or New Age treatments?"

Now, when it comes to my health, call me crazy but I'm generally a firm advocate of good old-fashioned, traditional, mainstream, science-based, corporate-funded, evil Western medicine.

Got a headache? Take two Advil.

Stomach feeling a little queasy? Throw down some Pepto.

Anything more serious and I'm in a taxi headed uptown to my Park Avenue diagnostician, a medical genius who has more degrees than a rectal thermometer. If I'm lucky, he'll dismiss me with a prescription for some Vicodin. But if it's anything that could be major, he's known me long enough to know that I'm going to need a team of guys in white lab coats with fancy degrees and even fancier beach houses. When it comes to my health, I'm going with the pros. In times of a serious health crisis, there is no need to be messing around with alternative medicine.

I know I'm not the only one who feels like that.

You ever see what happens when a medical epidemic hits India or Tibet? I don't know about you but it sure does seem like a lot of people are shoving grandma out of the way to get to one of those Red Cross tents.

Whether it's a medical emergency or not, I just don't see how having a patchouli-scented shaman instruct me to drink shark cartilage tea, snort palmetto, and chew deer penis beef jerky is going to have any impact on my overall health. Call me a product of my upbringing. 

I don't know.

Maybe part of the reason that I'm not a proponent of alternative medicine is because I barely even understand the jargon.

To me, Ginkgo Biloba is the name of that city in Spain with the new art museum. Aromatherapy is when you fart in a bathtub. And a homeopathic is a male nurse who touches you in funny places.

Anyway...when I asked the woman what types of alternative medicine she would recommend for me, she immediately replied "Acupuncture and Colonics."

Seriously?

I think it was Dennis Miller who once said that acupuncture basically works on the principle of distraction. You're not going to feel the arthritis in your knee when someone is ramming a giant needle in the nape of your neck. It's the same reason your nose never itches when your ankle is caught in a steel bear trap.

As for colonics, the thought of having high-pressure water irrigated into my coin slot sounds about as appealing as running nude sprints with a catheter in my johnson.

But as wary and cynical as I am, I do always pride myself on having an open mind. Basically, I'll give anything a try once. I'm generally a big believer in the philosophy that life is too short to be afraid of trying new things.

So with that thinking in mind, I admit to all of you that I have started experimenting with alternative medicines. (I don't mean actually taking them myself, I mean pretending I've taken them with great success and then recommending them to my friends so they'll take them...and I can see whether they really do work.)

Just kidding.

Actually, I can't find any friends gullible enough to believe me. Apparently I run with a pretty cynical crowd. Surprise!

So, next week, in the name of science, I am scheduled for a round of colonics, an acupuncture session, and a juice-cleansing herbal consultation. I'll keep you posted on all the details. Wish me luck.

While there's a part of me that hopes it works, there's also a bigger part of me that hopes it doesn't. Why? Because in the back of my mind, I'm fairly certain that colonics are a gateway drug to yoga. And as Vishnu is my witness, there is nothing more annoying than a person who does yoga. I'll get into that in another post.

Namaste, bitches!