the highs and lows of human existence

At some point in our lives we all want to be great. Then we slowly figure out over time that it's not gonna happen. We're not going to make the diving catch into the stands to preserve the World Series victory for the Yankees, and even if we did, what are the odds of us landing in the lap of the pretty girl we've always secretly loved and winning her eternal affection in the process? Poor, friends. The odds are poor.

We're mostly just going to show up at our jobs and try not to screw up too badly, take home some money to the person who's agreed to love us, and then maybe watch some TV before bed.

Inside we may cling to some percentage of our original sense of damn-I'm-awesomeness, but it keeps seeping out little by little until it's maybe just a vague feeling in the back of our consciousness that only surfaces once in a while, say when we hit a home run in an interoffice softball game, etc.

But the failures and non-successes and same-old same-olds that fill out our personal box scores every day are probably more representative of who we are as people than this abstract glimmer in our souls that says we are special and destined for more than this.

In all likelihood, this is it. We are not more than this.

So in lieu of actual greatness, I have decided to approach each day as a chance to be good. Good can be defined a lot of ways, of course.

-Was the day personally satisfying? Did you receive unexpected blowjobs or undue praise? Did you eat a giant delicious baked potato?

-Did you contribute positively to the well-being of the universe? Did you leave the world in a slighhtly better place than you found it this morning? (And if so, were you rewarded with unexpected blowjobs?)

-Did you avoid fucking shit up too badly for yourself or others? I suppose this relates to the other two items above but there's nothing like a big ol' fuckup to launch you into a sense of cosmic queasiness. One bad fuckup can negate a whole lot of good stuff.

I worked 14 hours today. Like 4 things went against me at the job but I overcame them all. Got a little kid time. Did some dishes. Made a blog post. Ate a bowl of cereal. You know, the usual. As I was scrubbing the dishes at 1:30 am, a sense of mild positivity washed over me, as if to say, "Bungle, you did alright today. You treated people good, you worked hard, you encountered some hardships and dealt with them, and you experienced a barely measurable sense of pleasure a couple of times. Not too bad."

I guess this is what I was getting at when I was experimenting with the short-lived Profiles in Dignity crap and most definitely the PFI crap. I just think it's important that we step back now and then and evaluate how shit is going. Are we miserable and forgetting to notice it? Or are things pretty good and we should be damn thankful?

Remember, none of this is to say you should not grasp at moments of real greatness when you have a chance. You might even find yourself listed on a relaunched version of this strange old thing.

In the spirit of nostalgia, here is a 25 point lyric stumpah. No googlin', friends -- it'll lower your PFI for the day:

Lonely is only a place
You dont know what it's like
You cant fight it
Its a hole in my heart
In my heart

Another 12 points for telling me what song this little section seems to have been completely lifted from musically.

By the way, today was an 83. It was like a 71 until I found out that Joe Monkeyweb is back in business. Hooray!

your bad

In the last week, I've received three formal apologies from co-workers. Two via email, one in person. Three apologies, each one stemming from a different confrontation, all in the span of a few days.

It's pretty strange.

If you've ever worked with me, you know I'm not the most confrontational person on earth. Even though I know that true progress often requires some degree of conflict, I will do almost anything to avoid it.

I want to do a good job and turn out a widget that the company can be proud of, but it is of almost equal importance to me that the widget-making process is an enjoyable ride for everyone involved. I want to laugh, I want to feel a sense of comradeship, I want lightheartedness and oh-well-we're-fucked-today-so-let's-make-the-best-of-it-edness. I want people to treat each other with respect and kindness and as corny as it is, I want us to feel like family.

I like most of the people I work with and I try not to give them any reasons to dislike me.

But this week, three times people blew up at me. And I kept my cool each time. I didn't back down, I didn't get pissy and petty (OK, one time I kinda did), I just basically stood there and made my case and let the other person go all wah wah wah. Twice a door was semi-slammed in my face.

Each time, the person came back and was all, I'm sorry.

To which I basically say: not good enough.

I mean, I get it. It's a stressful time for us right now and everybody's on edge. People don't see eye to eye on things, tensions rise, emotions surface, and suddenly -- WHAM -- an uncomfortable moment right there in front of everyone.

But c'mon you fuckers, grow up. Be cool. Internalize your stress, take on a few extra hypertension heart attack points. Don't pass 'em all to me. I treat you with respect. I discuss shit in calm tones. I sugarcoat my criticism of your crappy work. I give you every chance to do the same for me. And then I get the door in the face.

I am trying to figure out what led to this sudden barrage of contentiousness. I have come up with a few possible sources:

1. The Fat Face Theory -- there are a few supernatural forces which I grudgingly believe in. I believe that time actually flows at varying speeds, that there is a physical force, to this point unmeasurable by instruments, which makes some days go slower than others. Most of my evidence for this is that if you ask someone you know if the week or day etc. has gone by quickly or slowly, they will always have the same general sense about it as you, even if the two of you work/exist in totally separate worlds. I also believe that approximately once every six months I physically grow approximately 2 inches, a phenomenon known as "Giant Hans." It will usally last for a day or so. Others can testify to this. A third theory is that I am treated better by people when I am having a "handsome day." Do you notice that on some days your face is all bloated and fat, and others it is more slim and defined? Good, me too. When the face is slim, everybody's your best friend. And on those Fat Face Days, people seem to want to shit all over you. Perhaps I have been having a bunch of Fat Face Days in a row.

2. The Captain Pussy Theory -- I am too nice a guy and people feel they can lash out at me without repercussions. Later, they feel bad about it because they are ultimately decent human beings.

3. The Asshole Theory -- I have suddenly become more combative and that is why I am getting in more messy situations. I am a dick. I should be the one apologizing but am too arrogant to even consider this possibility.

4. The Random Chance Theory -- a few incidents that would otherwise seem largely inconsequential suddenly take on importance because they happen in quick succession.

5. The My Bad Theory -- I am just plain wrong in each case and since I have not backed down, people have gotten pissed. Whatever, I'm right.

Interested to hear your thoughts.

On a side note, within 24 hours of the first confrontation, a moment of supreme poetic justice landed on my adversary's head in such a perfect way that if you saw it in a movie you'd roll your eyes at its ludicrousness. I will savor it for a good while.

back in the day

It was mid-October 2008. We were fighting wars in five countries, and the two of 'em we knew about weren't going well. The economy was wounded and spewing fresh blood every day. Otherwise-sane adult women were addicted to vampire/coming of age/romance novels written by Mormon housewives. The Red Sox were dangerously close to a dynasty.

The tap water all down the East Side of Manhattan turned brown, but the city told us to go ahead and drink it. Beverly Hills Chihuahua was #1 at the Box Office. Somebody came up with the idea for the $1000 lap dance, which included the parting gift of the stripper's autographed g-string.

Fox News commentator Sarah Palin was running for Vice-President. I shit you not, look it up.

They were the dying days of the marijuana prohibition era, which meant, among other things, that you might be smoking dried-out pesto sauce at any given moment.

Keith Olbermann was the best the left could muster.

I was nursing a sore foot and a probably-cracked rib, and I was drinking way too much coffee.

Then again:

Steve Nash was still playing basketball, about to start his last great season. You really had to see it. Dick Cavett had a blog you could read for free. We could still get excited about new technology. There were more great shows on TV than ever before, although I didn't have time to watch them.

The Facebook Murders hadn't happened yet.

David Letterman was still two years away from retirement. Our kids were still tiny and controllable and had no idea how to use their cuteness as a weapon.

I could still run and play sports and crack bad jokes. You were fifteen pounds lighter and still had fantasies of a different life.

And goddammit, we could order beer at work.

If you were alive then, I hope you appreciated it. I hope you put on your fall jacket and got outside on a crisp Saturday afternoon when you could. I hope you had laughter-filled brunches with friends and watched the big game in a bar while eating the deep fried food of your choice. I hope you tickled your kids until they were mad at you.

And I hope you got some pictures while you were at it. You were one lucky son of a bitch.

The Black Hounds of McAdoo

some things I've been digging lately (at the risk of being hopelessly behind the times on all of them)

1. The book I am reading right now: Indecision by Benjamin Kunkel. I'm 50 pages in and loving it, just waiting for it to ascend into total awesomeness (I'm betting on it). Other possibility: it remains amusing as a series of observations but never really finds its plot. Worst case: it becomes totally annoying.

2. Fast Times at Ridgemont High -- no more than usual, but still a lot.

3. The baguette at Le Pain Quotidien. Sure it's a chain and it can get crowded and the service is spotty, but that bread is zee best.

4. My iPhone. Even though it seems to have slowed down pretty dramatically, I love the hell out of that damn thing. Here's me: walking down the street, boppin' the head, surfing the internet, smiling. Here's you: look at that fucker with his iPhone, what an asshole. (Then, deep inside your soul, here's you again, quietly: I wish I had one too.)

5. The song "Needle In Your Eye #16" by War on Drugs. Know nothing about this band, got the song on some compilation CD that came "free" with a $10 music magazine, and I was immediately like, hell yes! Good stuff, sounds like it could have been recorded any time in the last 40 years.

6. Budweiser beer. Yeah, I am back to the Budweiser beer. Fuck CoorsMiller or whatever it's called now, they're bad people. Plus, the Bud just goes down so easy. It basically drinks itself. That's how they should market it: Budweiser Self-drinking Beer. Also: work-drinking is something I'll miss when I someday move on to another job. We actually call a deli and have them deliver us beer at the office! We're the best!

7. NBA League Pass. I will be resubscribing unless they jack up the price.

8. Playing basketball. Had my best performance in a while the other day, although I rolled my ankle towards the end.

9. My real last name. It's always been a real clunker as far as I am concerned, although other people seem to get a kick out of saying it. But I have some little Irish name chart thing which includes two factoids that have made the name immeasurably more satisfying. One, that it roughly translates to "Black Hound." Two, that one of its variants is McAdoo. How awesome would it be if I changed my last name to McAdoo? How badly would you want to hang out with me? Badly, pal.

10. Walking to work in my newest pair of knockaround sneakers.

true shit

25 Undeniable Facts That You Cannot Deny:

1) Lance Armstrong is a cheating bastard. While this slightly tarnishes his 7 Tour de France wins, it does not diminish his most remarkable achievement: cheating in the Tour de France for at least 7 years straight without being caught. As an aside: he is a dick. Anyone who says of his own lovemaking ability, "I've never had any compaints" = dick.

2) Billy Martin would punch you in the face.

3) Smoking marijuana should be legal. Drinking Tequiza/Mike's Hard Lemonade/Zima/Smirnoff Ice-type novelty beverages should be a felony. Statute of limitations = 15 years. Round 'em up.

4) The New York Knicks will not win a playoff series between 2001-2010.

5) Nobody you know owns a Zune.

6) The only scientifically accepted measures of manhood are: athletic ability, woman-charming ability, drinking ability, driving ability, and drinking and driving ability. And (of course) penis size.

7) Some people can get away with more than others. Deal with it.

8) Only fools fail to order egg and cheese sandwiches on Friday mornings.

9) Tattling on people is a terrible thing to do. As adults we should know better.

10) Gravy is nasty.

11) Vice Magazine is/was mean-spirited and you should put it down right now.

12) The original Rat Pack all suffered from near-constant booze-induced diarrhea.

13) It's time for you to stop feeling like a failure, even if the rest of the world sees you as one.

14) We all love beer.

15) Very few words/expressions shock me or gross me out, especially sexual ones. One that does is "eating her out." A woman used it at work the other day and I got genuinely freaked. Therefore, this is officially the single most inappropriate thing a person can say.

16) There is life outside of planet earth, but it's pretty lame.

17) The competence level of officiating in pro sports is a joke. At any given moment only 50% of the fans find the joke funny.

18) You will not get a blowjob this weekend. Sorry, just not in the cards.

19) In the end, it turns out you should have listened to your parents about cigarettes.

20) "It all comes down to knowing your limitations, and I don't have any" holds up better after 21 years than your yearbook quote did after three. Yeah, I'm talking to you, New Order fans.

21) The South won't rise again, not any time soon. So pipe down before you make us come down there again.

22) Potatoes!

23) If you wake up one morning with a thumping hangover and think you did a particular embarrassing thing the night before but aren't 100% positive, let me confirm: you did it. And others saw you do it. And one of them will bring it up. Go ahead and tell him to shut the fuck up.

24) Dan Smith will teach you guitar.

25) The world belongs to 17 year-olds.