What not to wear

I almost always hate when someone tells me what I can and cannot wear. Part of it is the five year old in me, refusing to be told what to do.

But an even bigger part of it is the illogical and arbitrary nature of many of the dress codes and social mores associated with clothing, as well as the position of power that these arbiters of fashion attempt to assume.

In our world, social power tends to reside with judgmental pricks who invest heavily in conformity and price.

I hate this.

A couple weeks ago, The Boston Globe posted a piece entitled Eight summer workplace wardrobe no-nos.

Here are my thoughts on their profundity:

1.  Sheer or see-through clothing

This is not a summer no-no.  This is a lifetime no-no.  Until social mores relax to the standard of an Amazonian National Geographic photo shoot, this one seems fairly obvious.

There are actually state and federal laws governing the wearing of see-through clothing in public.

I may not like it, but I can live with this.

2.  Flip-flops, sneakers, and sandals

This is stupid. While there are certain instances where flip-flops and sandals may pose safety hazards, there is no situation in which a pair of sneakers are inappropriate. Sneakers are generally the most comfortable, most versatile, most foot-healthy choice of footwear available, and to think that wearing sneakers in any way impedes with the effectiveness or professionalism of a worker is foolish.

Old people and stupid people think that sneakers are inappropriate at work.

Sadly, these tend to be the people in charge.

3.  Midriff-baring shirts or low-cut pants

Again, prohibitions against clothing that exposes certain parts of the body that are expected to be covered are fine with me. While I wish that society was more relaxed when it comes to these expectations, this is not the case.

Proposing that butt-cracks and bellies be covered at work is not exactly Earth-shattering either.

4.  Sundresses

My initial thought that was there is nothing wrong with a sundress, but the author goes on to write:

“Light and airy dresses might fit the weather, but they can also be problematic, especially if they're sheer or linen.”

In other words, if you can see through the dress, it’s not appropriate.

See rule #1.

But if the sundress is made of an opaque material, I have no problem with it. Again, cover the requisite body parts and you can wear whatever dress you want.

5.  T-shirts

There is nothing wrong with a t-shirt. The idea that a collar, long sleeves and a series of buttons stretching from neck to crotch somehow imbue an outfit with professionalism and esteem is an old fashioned and stupid belief.

It is possibly the stupidest, non-religious belief known to man.

6.  Shorts

As long as women are wearing dresses to work (and I have no problem with them doing so), men (and women) should be allowed to wear shorts so long as they are appropriately sized. Once again, to think otherwise is discriminatory, sexist, and most important, stupid. It hearkens back to a time when every man wore a hat and smoking was permitted in the office.

7.  Wide-open shirts

This also fits into the category of exposing certain aspects of the body that society has dictated remain covered.

While I appreciate cleavage as much as the next guy, I can live with this.

8.  Tight-fitting outfits

This last no-no fits squarely in the category of “No duh” and “Congratulations, Captain Obvious.”

Way to go out on a limb here, Boston Globe.

Perhaps the Girl Scouts don’t need me after all

Around this time last year I wrote a post about how I would like to change the Girl Scouts, and it received quite a response, both from women who despised their Girl Scout experience as well as those who found my criticism to be narrow-minded and unfounded.

While I still believe in what I wrote, I am willing to acknowledge that the hyperbole used in writing that post was unnecessary and foolish. 

And it turns out that I may not be needed after all. 

Girl Scouts Madison Vorva and Rhiannon Tomtishen have done a damn fine job of forcing change on their own by boycotting the sale of Girl Scout cookies and convincing others to do the same until palm oil, an ingredient that contributes to deforestation and endangers the habitats of animals like orangutans, is removed from the cookies altogether.

“Initially, Girls Scouts of USA mostly ignored Vorva and Tomtishen's criticisms. After the girls' area council leader contacted the national leadership, the teenagers were granted a conference call to plead their case in 2008-but as Vorva puts it, "they mostly talked at us." The issue flared up again recently after the organization moved to restrict comments on their Facebook page, deleting messages that had called for the group to stop using palm oil as part of a social network day of action.”

“Girl Scouts of the USA is finally beginning to listen. Last week Vorva and Tomtishen had a two-hour meeting at the organization's national headquarters in New York City, and the group agreed to research palm oil to see if they can get more of the ingredient sustainably, or replace it.”

And until they do, Madison Vorva and Rhiannon Tomtishen have pledged to continue applying pressure to the organization in every way that they can.

That includes continuing to boycott those damn cookies. 

Ideally, I’d still like the Girl Scouts to stop pretending that this $700 million dollar cookie bonanza is an education opportunity that teaches girls about such buzzwords as finance, communication, organization, and teamwork.    

Simply acknowledge that for a couple months every year, in order to fund their organization, little girls and their mothers are converted into an inexpensive sales and distribution system for a large-scale food company.

A little honesty can go a long way.

But what Madison Vorva and Rhiannon Tomtishen are doing is a start, and it is a good reminder that sometimes the best way to change an organization is from within, using grassroots methodology. 

Having an ogre like me pounding on the door, demanding that they meet every one of my demands, is not always so effective.

Bugaboo is stupid. Uppababy rules. I’m writing about baby strollers. The world must be coming to an end.

When my wife and I are in New York City, we see a lot of Bugaboo strollers and are frequently amused by their prevalence. There are simply much better strollers on the market for considerably less money, but because Hollywood starlets are photographed with Bugaboos and high school has not ended for many people, mindless popularity continues to win the day.

Slate’s Farhad Manjoo recently rated several high-end strollers and identifies our stroller, the Uppababy Vista, as one of the best.

That’s right. I’m bragging about a baby stroller.

Manjoo’s only criticism of the Uppababy stroller is this:

The only knock on it is style. If you spend a boatload on a stroller, you kind of want it to look like you've spent a boatload on a stroller. The Vista won't turn any heads. You'd better hope your baby's a looker.

I’m not sure what to think about this.

Is it good that my wife and I do not require our stroller to convey a sense of style to the world?

Or is it pathetic that style would even be a consideration when deciding upon a stroller?

Manjoo also fails to mention the expansion kit which turns a single-child stroller into a double stroller quite easily.

He cites the price and overall size of the Bugaboo as its two major drawbacks, but it also has significantly less storage space than the Uppababy (I’ve done a side-by-side comparison), which can be extremely important if you are living in in a place like Manhattan, where groceries are often carted home without the assistance of an automobile.

His top choice is the Orbit G2, and while it has some interesting features, his list of drawbacks are longer than any other stroller, making me wonder what the hell he is thinking.  Limited storage space, a high price, a lack of a bassinette, a not-yet-available expansion pack and more make this stroller seem like one of the worst that he rated, and yet he inexplicably likes it the most.

Perhaps he’s still got a little bit of high school left in him as well.

Lions should not be allowed to pretend to eat little children

I am not a helicopter parent by any means. I allowed by children to cry herself to sleep, climb up slides, and operate heavy equipment while on cold medication. I am not overly cautious by any means.

But I don’t care how thick the glass might be.  I would not allow this to happen.

Not everything about Curious George is good.

The fact that The Man with the Yellow Hat doesn't have an actual name is pretty stupid.

Shame on you, humanity

I lived through a time when cell phones were so new, so expensive and such status symbols that fake cell phones were bought by people who wanted to be able to drive around and be seen talking on a phone. I was pretty sure at the time that it was the beginning of the End of Days.

Dishonoring the dead with stupidity

From Fox News:

Is Obama Chewing Gum at Joplin Memorial Service?

Earlier today President Obama spoke at a memorial service in Joplin, MO honoring those who lost their lives to the destructive tornado that stuck the region last week. Seen at the last seconds of this video clip it appears as though President Obama was chewing gum. What do you think?

____________________________________________________

I try to avoid politics here, but I can’t imagine even the most ardent Fox News supporters getting behind a story like this. 

And so, in answer to the question that Fox News posed: 

I think that at a time of great tragedy, the last thing that a news organization should be doing is reporting on a non-story that is clearly designed to undermine the credibility of the President in a way that would only be meaningful to the most base, derisive and fanatical elements of our citizenry. 

I can accept Fox News’s Fair and Balanced slogan as cleverly ironic (whether it’s meant to be or not), and I can even accept a news organization so slanted to one direction that they need to nail the news desk down to the floor lest it slide across the set.

Fox News is entirely within their rights to promote any agenda that they so choose, and while I do not believe them to be fair and balanced, they are free to do as they please.   

besides, without Fox News, what would Jon Stewart do?  Or The Onion?

But it’s impossible  for me to accept any news organization that attempts to politicize a memorial service for dead Americans by attempting to make such an inane and meaningless observation regarding the President.

Was he chewing gum?  Perhaps. 

Does it matter?  Of course not.

This is not a story, Fox News.  It is a pandering, pointless and ill-timed attempt at character assassination, and you should know better.

Particularly at a time like this.

Why today's video games suck

It happened more than a dozen years ago. I was playing a new PC game called Diablo II with some buddies and liking it very much. About an hour into the game, my character was killed by an arrow-shooting monster, and my head dropped to my chest. Damn. I’d have to start over.

“But, wait,” my friends said. “No need to start over.”

When a character dies in Diablo II, he or she simply reappears back in town without any of the equipment or items previously accumulated. And the lost equipment and items remain on the ground where your character died, so while it can be tricky to get back there without any weapons or armor, it is doable. And you have all the time in the world to accomplish it.

In short, the game has no risk. There are no life-or-death battles taking place within the game. It is simply a means of item-accumulation.

While I kept playing because my friends were playing with me, the joy in playing the game was gone.

It’s why I eventually became a griefer, finding a way to circumvent the rules of the game in order to kill players (also not normally allowed) and strip them of the items that they had spent hundred of hours accumulating.

The game needed genuine risk to be worthwhile.

So when I came upon this graphic illustrating the difference between the video games of my youth and the games of today, it made sense to me.

There was a time when dead meant dead in video games. When finishing a game was only possible for the most skilled players. When you would literally be drenched in sweat upon defeating the game’s boss.

Hell, there was a time when every game cost 25 cents to play. That made the stakes extraordinarily high.

But as video games moved exclusively into the home and the video game industry looked to expand beyond its base of hardcore gamers, it sought to create games that would appeal to a more casual gamer. The new games allowed players to experience the fun of playing the game without having to make a serious commitment in order to become good.

The risk-reward was removed from most games, including Diablo II.

This is probably why I play significantly fewer video games today. It has nothing to to with age.

It’s all about the stakes, or the lack thereof.

I have never been treated by an OB/GYN but I have an opinion on the subject nonetheless

Admittedly I  have almost no experience when it comes to OB/GYNs. Unfortunately that will not stop me from commenting on a piece in Slate that criticizes OB/GYN practices in Florida for establishing 200 pound weight limits for their patients.

When I first read the headline, I was a little shocked. I thought, “Are these doctors turning these women away based upon their physical appearance?  And do these doctors care that much about their patients’ physical appearance?”

But then I read the paragraph explaining the rationale for the weight restrictions, which included author Anna Resiman’s counterarguments:

Some of the doctors interviewed in the article opted not to care for obese women because of inadequate equipment. That’s pathetic: As I’ve said here before, they should buy larger exam tables, longer speculums, and bigger blood pressure cuffs, and do their best. Another reason for the ban, according to one of the office managers: The doctors weren’t “experts in obesity” and didn’t want to have to send patients to specialists if problems occurred. My take: Doctors should be adept at caring for patients of all sizes. Gynecologists don’t only do pelvic exams; a big part of their job is counseling. There’s no reason any should shy away from counseling overweight women, whether that entails diet and exercise recommendations or referrals to dieticians and bariatric surgeons. One of the doctors rationalized his decision as a way to decrease potential surgical complications and lawsuits; while this might make his work easier, what if all doctors in this part of Florida followed suit?

Let’s look at Reisman’s counter-arguments in order.

1.  Doctors claim that they lack the equipment to deal with women over 200 pounds.

Reisman’s response: “…they should buy larger exam tables, longer speculums, and bigger blood pressure cuffs, and do their best.”

Really? Are doctors expected to purchase enough equipment to handle every patient who could potentially walk in the door? Does Reisman think that these doctors have piles on money in their closets, ready to be spent on whatever piece of equipment they need, regardless of the fiscal sensibility of purchasing the equipment?

Isn’t a doctor permitted to determine how often he or she might use a piece of equipment and then determine if the purchase is cost-effective? They are running a business, and it would seem to me that “they should just buy more stuff” implies that business decisions should play no role in medicine.

Perhaps in an ideal world, but rather naive in this one, I think.

2.  The doctors weren’t “experts in obesity” and didn’t want to have to send patients to specialists if problems occurred.

Reisman’s response: “Doctors should be adept at caring for patients of all sizes.”

Really? Is medicine truly a one-size-fits-all model?

Is it unreasonable for a doctor to admit to not knowing everything?

Is it unreasonable to think that the needs of a 200 pound woman could be vastly different than the needs of 130 pound woman? Do we really want to tell doctors that they should know everything about their potential patients, regardless of their physical attributes, and not rely on experts in the field who specialize on particular patient attributes?

As a teacher, should I be expected to teach kindergarteners and high school seniors with the same level of skill? Like doctors, should teachers also be adept at teaching students of all sizes? If not, why?

As a writer, should I be expected to be able to write a textbook and a technical manual with the same skill as I write a novel? If I can write 120,000 words of fiction at a time, should I also be able to write a 5,000 word car manual?

The idea that a doctor should simply be able to treat all patients regardless of their physical differences is absurd.

Reisman adds:

There’s no reason any should shy away from counseling overweight women, whether that entails diet and exercise recommendations or referrals to dietitians and bariatric surgeons.

Sure there is. What if a doctor is not skilled or adept at counseling overweight women on diet and exercise? Do we really expect the doctor who specializes in obstetrics and gynecology to also be an expert on nutrition, exercise, weigh management, and more? If so, why do we have doctors who specialize in these fields already? Must we force doctors to become experts in multiple disciplines in order to cater to every possible patient who walks in the door?

3.  One of the doctors rationalized his decision as a way to decrease potential surgical complications and lawsuits.

Reisman’s response: “…what if all doctors in this part of Florida followed suit?

Three points here:

First, did Reisman really just cite one doctor as an indicator of the industry’s rationale?

Second, if the decision to set a weight limit on patients does in fact reduce surgical complications and lawsuits, can we fault a doctor for making a valid business decision in order to remain profitable?

And doesn’t the increase of surgical complications for some doctors imply the need for expertise in this field?

Do 200 pound women want to be treated by an OB/GYN who experiences higher rates of surgical complications?

But it’s the last part of the sentence that contains the great degree of stupidity:

“…what if all doctors in this part of Florida followed suit?”

Ah, yes. The doomsday scenario. Always the sign of a rhetorical mastermind.

Does anyone believe in a free market economy that there won’t be doctors willing to treat the exploding population of obese patients in our country?

Does Reisman expect the reader to foresee a day when it will be impossible for a obese women to find an OB/GYN willing to treat her?

Or is it more reasonable to foresee a day in which some doctors are perfectly willing and appropriately skilled at dealing with the unique needs of an obese woman and some are not?

Not the best tribute to firefighters

When I was about ten-years old, I was awakened from my bed by a firefighter. Rather disconcerting, I can assure you.

Our chimney was on fire. Several people stopped their cars along the side of the road, knocked on our door and warned my parents that the chimney was on fire. Sparks and flames were shooting out from the brick structure into the night sky. But my step-father scoffed at the notion, assuring each would-be savior that he was just burning some green wood in the wood burning stove.

He never even bothered to step outside the house to take a look at the chimney.

Eventually the fire department arrived and informed my step-father that he was a moron. Then they evacuated the kids from the house.

So I respect firefighters a lot. They carried me out of my childhood home that night to safety, and for a long time I considered becoming a volunteer firefighter.

That said, I do not endorse Cee Lo Green’s new song dedicated to firefighters.

Green, whose mother was a firefighter and who was rescued from a car wreck by firefighters as well, rewrote the lyrics of his well-known song F**k You again, this time changing the name of the song to Thank You and spinning the lyrics into a song of appreciation for all the firefighters who risk their lives everyday for morons like my stepfather.

I say again because he already changed the song to Forget You in order to garner radio play and inclusion on movie soundtracks, a decision that I also did not endorse.

While I am typically opposed to vulgarity in music, the use of it in this particular song was so perfect that I was willing to make an exception to my rule.

Despite the language, and perhaps in part because of it, I love this song in its original form.

Love it.

Forget You is a shadow of the songs former self, and changing the lyrics for a third time, even for such a good cause, makes the song seem like an empty vessel into which Green can dump any two word sentiment that suits the occasion, an aspect is highlighted in this new version song when Green sings, “I wrote this song about you. What would we do without you?”

He didn’t write this song about firefighters. He wrote the song about a guy who has been dumped by a girl because he didn’t have enough money.

The lyric should read, “I re-re-wrote this song about you. What would I do with it?”

It’s not easy (and perhaps not wise) to criticize a song written in honor of firefighters, but it is slightly less difficult to criticize a song that has been re-re-written to honor firefighters.

Just write a new song, Cee Lo. Don’t marginalize and commercialize a song that was at one time so perfect.

And as you watch the video, could someone please explain Green’s use of his iPhone as he record the song? Is he really reading the lyrics off the phone?  Or using some metronome app? Or making a personal recording of the recording?

Or is he just checking email, which is what it looks like to me.

There is only one appropriate and respectful time to host a toddler’s birthday party and to say otherwise is just stupid and poopy

Blessed be the parents who schedule their toddlers birthday party for 10:00 AM on a Saturday morning.

There are so many good things about this decision, most specifically the respectful acknowledgement of the value of a day off.

Want to play golf in the morning?

No problem. Squeeze in 9 holes before you come over. There’s no need to even be on time. This is a toddler’s birthday party. Arrive at 11:00 and leave around noon. Your kid will never know the difference.

Want to preserve the majority of the day for yourself?

Great. Stop by around 10:00 and leave before noon. You still have the better part of the day to yourself, including the entire afternoon, and we’ve even sent you off with lunch in your bellies.

Your toddler is still napping regularly?

Good for you. Drop by for a couple hours, eat some cake and then bring your now-exhausted child home for a nap, probably right around his or her regular naptime.

Genius.

I’m not a fan of any toddler birthday party, and I generally try to avoid them at all costs.

But after experiencing the 10:00 AM birthday party firsthand last weekend, I can assure you that it is the only way to go.

It makes the toddler birthday party almost enjoyable.

What’s the worst time for a toddler’s birthday party?

Any time other than 10:00 AM.

Noon? You probably ruined somebody’s afternoon nap, and by the time we leave, we’ve lost the better part of the afternoon.

2:00? You’ve now stolen the best part of the day, and you’re still probably ruining someone’s nap.

4:00? Now we’re eating an early dinner with a dozen screaming, slightly poop smelling toddlers.

6:00? So much for any Saturday night plans.

10:00 AM people. Seriously. Anything else is just plain selfish and rude.

You can celebrate Bin Laden’s death, but only if your celebration conforms to the celebratory bell curve

I first learned about the death of Osama Bin Laden on Twitter. An hour later I watched the President speak on television.

Since then, I have listened to Americans react to his death, and I have listened to the reaction to the reaction.

I watched video footage of people outside the White House batting beach balls in the air while screaming in celebration.

I have read as people on Facebook and Twitter both celebrate the death of Bin Laden and condemn the euphoria over his death.

I witnessed a falsified Martin Luther King quote get passed around in what I can only assume to be a passive-aggressive attempt to chastise friends and fellow Americans for their outward exuberance over the death of the most wanted terrorist in the world.

If you are going to chastise someone, don’t hide behind a quote to do it.

In the past few days I have heard much debate of the merits and morality of celebrating the death of another human being. I have heard people declare unequivocally that it is wrong to feel joy in your heart over the death of this most wanted man.

I have never been one for extreme emotional responses. Unless it is a sporting event, I tend to be even keeled, and even then, I tend to remain calm and introspective.

I threw a shoe through a wall when Desmond Howard ran back the opening kickoff to the second half of the 1996 Super Bowl, and I cried in 1996 when the Yankees won the World Series, but other than that outlying year, I tend to remain thoughtful and stoic in most circumstances.

When I first learned of Bin Laden’s death, I was pleased that the United States military had succeeded in their mission without any loss of life.

I was happy that the families of 9/11 victims might find some closure with his death.

I was relieved that there would be no trial.

Was I happy that he was dead?

Perhaps.

But not enough to tote a beach ball to the streets and begin celebrating en masse.

But here’s the thing:

Does anyone have the right to tell a person that they are wrong for feeling euphoric over the death of the man responsible for the largest attack on civilians in American history?

Should anyone be told not to celebrate?

Are we really in the business of telling people not to feel happy?

Actually, here’s the thing:

We spend most of our childhood being told by teachers and parents to be ourselves. We are urged to avoid peer pressure and not to follow the crowd.  We are encouraged to find our own path in life and to be the person we were meant to be.

Then we follow this advice as adults, fail to adhere to social expectations and are punished for it.

When a person posts their joy over Bin Laden’s death on Facebook or takes to the streets like people did at the conclusion of World War II, some of us suddenly feel the need to wag our fingers and tell them to stop.

To remind them that Bin Laden’s death cannot bring back those lost on 9/11.

To preach to them about the perils of vengeance.

We tell these people who are trying to be themselves and express their feelings to mitigate their emotional response, or at least conceal it behind a more somber and measured affect.

We urge them to conform to the mean using falsified quotations, Bible verses, blog posts and old fashioned name calling.

We tell them that there is a predetermined level of appropriate celebration and urge them to conform.

I hate this.

I was not one who was celebrated Osama Bin Laden’s death with beach balls and chants of U.S.A.

I was more stoic and introspective about the news.

But I will also be the last person on the face of this Earth to tell a person to feel a certain way or falsify their emotional response in deference to the bell curve.

I learned the childhood lesson of being yourself quite well, and I refuse to punish anyone for following this advice.

Too much information prior to peeing

This was the sign on the door of a restroom that I used today.

While the sentiment seems a little extreme (Wash your hands or die!), I was more concerned with the sheer amount of information that the sign contained. Did the hand washing zealot who hung up this sign really expect people to stop at the restroom door and read the thing in its entirety?

All 28 bullet points?

Wouldn’t the first four bullet points have been more than sufficient?

Isn’t this a case of less being more?

The most intriguing of the bullet points are the eleven under the heading “When should you wash your hands?”

What could this zealot have been thinking?

The person who actually takes the time to read this sign, in addition to being clinically insane, is about to use the restroom. Does he or she really need to be warned about the importance of washing your hands prior to preparing food or handling uncooked poultry?

The purpose of the sign, I presume, is to remind people to wash their hands after using the restroom.

Shouldn’t we save reminders about handling food, animal waste and sewage for a more relevant time? A time when food, animal waste and sewage might come into play?

Top 10 moments from the Mommy convention

As promised (after some encouragement from Ann O’Connell), I attended the Mom’s the Word convention yesterday afternoon at the Connecticut Convention Center. Here are some thoughts and observations:

1.  This was not a convention. This was not a conference.

This was a collection of about thirty peddlers hocking their wares to the eleven people meandering up and down the aisles during the hour that I spent there. Jewelry, body lotions, photography paraphernalia, and cooking products dominated the selection, though there were two prominently displayed medical screening companies and a bookseller there as well.

Think flea market. Only smaller.

And in a hotel conference room.

With a $15 cover charge.

And $3 for parking.

Mom’s the Word? I don’t think so.

Cheap crap being sold under the guise of an event dedicated to mothers is more the word.

2.  I did not pay the $15 cover charge, opting instead to confidently walk by the registration table like I owned the place. I’ve come to realize that a man pushing a stroller can get away with a lot.

Besides, it was better this way.

Had I been required to pay the admission fee, I would’ve been forced to steal something worth at least $15 to morally justify my presence.

3.  The first two convention center employees who I encountered had no idea what I was talking about when I asked where the Mom’s the Word convention was being held. One mistakenly directed me to a middle school dance competition and the other asked if I had the wrong day.

4.  The signage indicating the location of Mom’s the Word convention explained the employees’ confusion and left a lot to be desired:

The signs were essentially sheets of computer paper randomly taped to the walls.

4.  The entrance to the room also left a hell of a lot to be desired:

Seriously. This was the main entrance to the convention hall.  I have seen maintenance closets decorated better.

5.  Want to see the entire event?  Here it is:

Right side of the room:

Left side of the room:

The whole thing was smaller than the gymnasium in my elementary school.

6. I was too late to attend the panel of expert moms, but based upon the seating for the event (a total of ten chairs), I can’t imagine that they expected (or received) much of an audience.

7.  I stopped at the bookseller’s table and asked Clara if she wanted a book.  Despite my disgust with the whole situation, I am always in favor of supporting booksellers.

Clara said no. She wanted no book. This was odd.

I showed her several books, attempting to entice her with pictures of things I knew she would like. Cats. Moons. Buses.

Each time she said no.

The woman behind the table showed Clara her favorite book and asked if she wanted to see it.

Clara said no.

She was apparently as disgusted with the event as me.

8.  I stopped at a table covered in soaps and asked the woman sitting behind it if there was anything else to do except buy stuff.

She replied, “What did you expect? A song and dance?”

For $15? Maybe a song at least?

I moved on.

9.  I was the only male attendee during my hour there. I was asked by one woman if I was looking for my wife and told by another that her jewelry would make a great Mother’s Day present.

“My mother’s dead,” I said. “And my daughter’s mother left me.”

Sadly, I couldn’t get out the second half of the statement without starting to laugh, so I scurried off with my tail between my legs, feeling mean and stupid.

10:  The best part of the day was spent outside the convention center, staring at the tulips with Clara while she enjoyed some milk and I finished my Diet Coke.

It was almost worth the trip.  Except I still had to pay for parking.

Michael Scott’s final words deserved to be heard

Just for the record, I did not approve of the final moment between Pam Halpert and Michael Scott during Steve Carell’s final episode of The Office.

Like the final moment between Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson in Lost in Translation, the writers chose to leave the final dialogue between the two characters a secret, which in my mind amounts to little more than cowardice on their parts.

Afraid of the momentous task of writing the final lines of dialogue for a character of such import as Michael Scott, the writers blinked and chose the easy way out.

An unheard conversation, shot at a distance, and later summarized by Pam.

And the scene didn’t even make sense. Though we saw Michael turn over his microphone before heading to the plane, there was no reason why Pam would not have been miced at that moment, and so the dialogue should have been available to the documentarians.

And if we were meant to believe that the filmmakers had captured toe dialogue between Michael and Pam but had chosen not to air it, why would they then ask Pam what had been said?

The audience deserved the last words of Michael Scott.

Not the friends I want

“Carrying a $10,000 Birkin bag by Hermès will make you the envy of your friends. It could also help you snag a higher salary and better job recommendations.”

This is the lead to a TIME article about recent research that suggests, much to my horror, that fashion choices, and specifically designer labels, influence earning potential.

"The present data suggest that luxury consumption can be a profitable social strategy because conspicuous displays of luxury qualify as a costly signaling trait that elicits status-dependent favorable treatment in human social interactions."

While I find the results of this study unfortunate and sad, I like the idea of  designer labels being “conspicuous displays of luxury.”

Not “quality merchandise” or a “sound investment” as has been suggested to me by brand name mavens.

A conspicuous display of luxury.

Specifically, the researchers cite the ridiculous Lacoste shirts that I have criticized in the past as being an example of a conspicuous display of luxury. Though I understand how a purposeful demonstration of wealth can serve as an indicator of success (and probably low self-esteem), I am still stunned that so many people, so many years out of high school, still operate with these beliefs.

Make hiring decisions based upon these beliefs.

Find value in an embroidered reptile or an expensive watch or a series of interlocking G’s on a handbag.

It saddens me to think that all things equal, the guy with the embroidered reptile on his left breast is more likely to get the job than the guy without a reptile.

I don’t love the lead to the Time magazine article either, which begins with the sentence:

“Carrying a $10,000 Birkin bag by Hermès will make you the envy of your friends.”

While I realize that any handbag is unlikely to generate envy from any of my friends, I don’t think any of them have ever experienced envy based upon my clothing or any other of my physical possessions.

I can’t remember the last time I was envious of a friend over something he or she owned.

Nor can I remember a time when a friend expressed envy over something that someone else owned.

I am admittedly envious of friends over their skill on the golf course, their ability to repair an car’s engine and the ease with which they can install a dishwasher, but I can’t remember a time as an adult when I looked at a friend’s clothing or car or jewelry or home and wished it were mine.

Frankly, if TIME magazine was right and a designer label would make the envy of my friends, I might have to question the future of the friendship.

I have no time for such nonsense.

I graduated from high school a long time ago.

This is how moms want to spend their weekend?

This week Living Social alerted me to the gomom.me convention taking place this weekend in Hartford, Connecticut.

As far as I can tell, this is a convention dedicated to mothers. There will be a “motherhood panel of amazing moms,” a “fun image workshop,” a Spa Power Hour and a eco-friendly gift bags filled with samples and goodies.

I thought about the possibility of a similar convention for fathers and then remembered that I DON’T KNOW ANY MEN WHO WOULD BE STUPID ENOUGH TO ATTEND SUCH A RIDICULOUS, UNNECESSARY, SELF-AGGRANDIZING AFFAIR.

Not one.

To be honest, I have yet to find a woman who thinks this is a good idea either. Female responses to this convention have ranged from “absurd” to “embarrassing for all of womankind” to “downright creepy.”

And as you can see from the Living Social image, only 30 people took advantage of the 67% savings.

Not a lot for a deal that offered $5 admission.

All this has left me wondering if we have reached the point where attending motherhood panels and image workshops are the best ways of spending a Saturday afternoon.

I realize that there are women who seem to believe that motherhood equates to martyrdom and who barter for free time from the kids with their spouse as if they are negotiating nuclear disarmament, and I am sure that there are fathers who feel and act the same way.

But are there really enough of them to fill a convention hall for a weekend?

I nearly purchased the Living Social deal on Monday, just to be able to pop in and witness this spectacle for myself. And since I am home alone this weekend with my daughter while my wife is in New York, Clara and I may still drive down to the convention center to take a peak if we find ourselves in need of something to do.

My disgust for this event is only matched by my curiosity over it.

Maybe I can get a blog post or even a short story out of the adventure.

Top 10 post-wedding thoughts

Last night’s wedding was the first of the year.  Amidst the mixing of music and making announcements came the following random thoughts: _______________________________________________

1. I have no respect for a minister or justice of the peace who requires a microphone at a wedding ceremony. The ability to project one’s voice should be a prerequisite for the job.

2. Vodka and Diet Coke are two words that should never be spoken together.

3. One of the most embarrassing moments as a DJ was the night that I accidentally played the Jerry Maguire mix of Springsteen’s Secret Garden, with dialogue by Tom Cruise, Renee Zellweger and Cuba Gooding, Jr. interspersed throughout the song. A four-minute cringe that I am reminded of every time I play the correct version of the song (I deleted the Jerry Maguire version immediately after playing it).

4. The bride and groom should never be criticized for scheduling their wedding on the Saturday before Easter. There’s no such thing as Easter Eve, jerk-face.

5.  If you are so tall that you can see over the restroom stall, you should never choose the urinal directly adjacent to the stall, especially when the DJ is changing into his tuxedo and likes to put on a fresh pair of underwear prior to a wedding because it makes him feel a little better about the next seven hours he will spend on his feet.

6. When your dress is shorter than the tee-shirt that my wife wears to bed, it ceases being attractive.

7. Announcing that the groom’s favorite hockey team is winning is never recommended, because when the Bruins give up the tying goal with eight minutes left and are eventually forced to win in a shoot-out after a full overtime period, you spend the remainder of the wedding worried that Boston might lose and you will look like a jackass for insisting that the DJ announce the score before the game was over.

8.  Flirting with the DJ in order to get him to play The Cupid Shuffle is both ineffectual and embarrassing for the both of us.

9.  The value of a competent, experienced maid of honor cannot be overestimated.

10.  As much as I love Louis Armstrong’s "What a Wonderful World," Joey Ramone’s version of the song is emphatically better.

The definition of self-indulgence

I am always in favor of having a party, but this is quite possibly the stupidest celebration that I have ever seen. Ask your doctor to place the results of your latest ultrasound in an envelope, pass that envelope onto your local bakery, and ask the baker to bake you a cake that matches the ultrasound results:

Pink for a girl and blue for a boy.

Then cover the cake with frosting.

A couple days later, invite your friends and family over to reveal the sex of your baby in grand fashion (not gender because gender and sex are not the same thing). With all eyes focused upon you (the whole point of this fiasco), the unveiling begins with the cutting of the cake and the revealing of the cake’s color.

It’s a boy!

It’s a girl?

The parents are despicable!

Screaming, laughing and tears commence. Hugs and kisses. Expressions of disbelief and surprise. And all the while you rejoice in your moment of exceptional self-indulgence with the people who used to love you the most before you involved them in this ridiculous spectacle.

Apparently this type of party is more common than I thought. My sister-in-law had already heard of these parties and even knows someone self-involved enough to have one.

I’ll say it again. Maybe there is something to this 2012 apocalypse stuff.

I will admit that if I was self-centered enough to have one of these parties, I might call it a Gender Reveal Party as well.

A Sex Reveal Party sends the wrong message.

Wouldn’t you rather watch me clip my toenails?

MSNBC will run twenty hours of royal wedding coverage on the day that what’s-his-name and what’s-her-name get married. My initial reaction was disgust at a news agency for turning itself into the royal wedding channel for a day, appealing to one of the basest groups of people in American society:

People who find another nation’s figurehead royalty compelling.

They are right up there with people who think they can pick their noses while driving and not be seen and people who purchase sweatpants for their thirteen year old daughters with the word Juicy splashed across the butt.

But then I realized that this is not the fault of MSNBC. It is the fault of every viewer who turns to MSNBC that day to watch the wall-to-wall coverage of the meaningless wedding of two strangers in a foreign land that has no bearing on their lives.

I can’t fault MSNBC for seeing an opportunity and making a buck.

If I believed that people would pay to watch me clip my toenails, I would launch a live stream right now and start collecting credit card numbers.

And that might just be more entertaining than this royal shindig.

It’s boring enough watching my friends get married. If people are willing to invest their precious time in watching strangers in another country tie the knot, I say bully for you, MSNBC.

Shoot for the least common denominator and you are sure to hit a hell of a lot of people.