Talent Show

It was a fun weekend with my boys.  We invited neighbors over for a cookout Saturday night.  Will decided to speak with his British accent for a good portion of it.  Drew demonstrated his neck-farting skills. 

The neighbors commented on our Talent Show from earlier in the afternoon.  Apparently they can see very easily into our backyard from their kitchen.  Will had set up a judge’s table complete with scoring and a trophy while Drew and I were the contestants.  Round One was dancing and I did a fabulous performance of Bohemian Rhapsody (I am a Bohunk after all) that included some sweet air-guitar with a tennis racket and quite a bit of jumping around on patio furniture. 

Drew did a freaky looking dance to Katy Perry’s Peacock song that included retarded (politically correctness be damned) birdlike moves with his lower lip pulled down over his chin.  Somehow Drew scored more points than me in Round One which I call bullshit on – how can a pigeon head-move with shuffling feet and T-Rex arms be better than me screaming, “Scaramouch scaramouch, will you do the fandango, thunderbolt and lightening, very very frightening…” while standing on the built-in grill and rocking out the tennis racket?!!

Round Two was singing.  Drew went first this time and did a serviceable version of Sweet Dreams.  He is no Annie Lennox but I have to admit he had good patio stage presence.  Plus the judge was singing along and that is always a good thing.  The pressure was on as I am the world’s worst singer.  So I of course went as loud as possible. Go big or go home.  I did Row Your Boat but improvised the lyrics for the second go-round to be sure they included throwing Drew overboard while Will was fed candy and milkshakes. I kept it going and I think the judge looked favorably on my version with lines like, “Row row row your boat gently down the stream, merrily merrily merrily merrily, while we hear Drew scream…”

My rendition was indeed warmly received by the judge and although I wasn’t in the lead overall, I did close the gap on my worthy opponent.  I smiled at the judge while I whispered to Drew that he was going down like poo in the toilet and between laughs he tried to tell me I am poo or something like that.

The last round was Wild Card – we could do any talent we wanted.  I was first so I went with an easy kid crowd-pleaser.  Juggling.  I used to be pretty good at it, but surprisingly there are not many reasons to randomly juggle shit, so I have lost some of my skills.  I was good enough to do golf balls though. And then I made it really tough on Drew by doing a golf ball, racquetball and football.  I was going to dip them all in gasoline and light them on fire next but the judge cut me off. 

I figured Drew would do neck farting, but Will and his refined personality (British accent and all) made that a risky endeavor for my competitor and he knew it.  So instead, he picked up three racquetballs (kids are such fucking copycats) and proceeded to do some sort of drop and catch game that was about as talented as a Kardashian.

I politely applauded Drew’s lame-ass talent show and told him second place isn’t bad.  The judge told us to calm down while he tallied the results.  I have no idea how he put points to the whole thing but somehow Drew won 81 to 77.  Fucking horseshit! The little peacock punk was excited though so I was a good sport and congratulated him by tackling him in the grass and tickling him until he said he was a monkey’s bottom. 

So yeah, the neighbors apparently watched the show too.  I’m sure they haven’t called us weird at all.  We had talked about alternating cookouts throughout the summer.  I’m sure they will have plenty.  I’m not sure we will be on the guest list but perhaps they will hire us to entertain.

Pseudonym

You know how women go to Vegas and create fake travel names for themselves? You don’t? Come on man! Las Vegas is a hall-pass for dressing however you want and doing things you wouldn’t normally do.  This usually only applies to women because guys wear the same stuff and do the same things no matter the situation. 

For example, a couple is invited to a neighborhood party.  The woman wears her skinny jeans with a fancy yet casual fun top and really cool accessories.  The guy wears jeans and an un-tucked button-up shirt.  The couple is invited to dinner at a restaurant.  The woman wears a hot dress and gets her hair done.  The guy wears jeans and an un-tucked button-up shirt.  The couple is invited to a more formal event.  The woman wears a beautiful long dress and gets a makeover.  The guy wears jeans and an un-tucked button-up shirt, while carrying a black sport coat.

As for behavior, at home women are civilized and catch up on life with their friends, but in Vegas they get all crazy and stay up past 10pm and talk to strangers.  At home, men talk to anyone about anything and we stay up until tomorrow.  Same thing in Vegas.

Therefore women create fake names for themselves in order to protect their real identity and reputation whereas us idiot men just go on being idiots.

The point is, I need a fake Starbucks name.  The baristas there are always giving me a new name anyway.  It’s tough to be a Brett when you talk fast, slur your words in general and have a Chicago Midwestern accent.  Most of the baristas know me now because I go in there so often to order my venti sugar-free vanilla nonfat chai.  The problem is they know me by the name they invented for me.  It always went something like this:

“Okay, one venti sugar-free vanilla nonfat chai coming up.  What is your name?”

“Brett.”

“Brad?”

“Brett.”

Then they look at me funny and turn the cup toward their face so I can’t see what they are writing.  Then I wait and my drink gets cold because I’m cheesing out and my name isn’t Brent so I don’t put it together that they wrote my name wrong but it is indeed my drink sitting there on the counter while I space out (I’m not a morning person). 

In addition to Brad and Brent, I’ve gotten Brian, Breck, Bren and even Brat.  Yes, my parents on the best day of their lives, my actual day of birth, wrote Brat down on the birth certificate at Chicago Memorial Hospital or whatever the heck it was called – how appropriate I can’t remember the name while Starbucks can’t remember mine. 

Once in awhile the barista will think they are being smart by pulling my name off my credit card.  The problem is I go by my middle name.  So when they yell out William or think they are really clever and try Bill, I may as well not even be in the same time zone with my lack of response. 

Now that I’ve been in there so often, every barista thinks they know me and they just write down whatever the heck they think my name is and I have to go with it.   So I’m thinking about going with a Starbucks name like Nick or Buck or Jack.  Those are manly man names that can’t be mistaken for Brat. 

Names like that make up for my obnoxious order of a venti sugar-free vanilla nonfat chai. I might even grunt when I announce my name.  And then when I do something crazy like order my drink extra hot, my credibility is safe because it’s just Buck being a nutty guy at Starbucks. 

So what is your new Starbucks name going to be?

Umm, the Observatory was Cool. And so was the Market. Why Bother With Anything Else?

If I could make money traveling, I’d be rich.  Actually, I seem to make money indirectly when traveling.  First off, there are my peeps back at the office making it rain while I’m out of town. But also, it seems like I get new business calls whenever I’m out which requires me to call in or do a little work from the road.  I used to think I should travel all the time because that is when new business comes calling.  But now I wonder if new business comes while I’m gone simply because I travel so much so when else would it come in anyway?

I’ve been regrouping in May but June is going to be crazy.  I just counted that I will be in other cities for 22 days in June.  First up is to visit my homey Dave in New York.  He took a job out there and moved from Chicago a couple months ago.  He actually lives in New Jersey but why would I ever admit I’m going to New Jersey when New York City is right across the river?   I’ve known Dave since Kindergarten and he’s truly a brother from another mother.  I’m bummed my last downtown Chicago resident friend is no longer there, but now I’ll get to know New York City.

Next up is a week in San Diego with my boys.  We rented a place in Ocean Beach.  San Diego has become a mostly annual trip for us kids and I’m sure we will do Sea World, the zoo and play with Kimmie.  My boys still talk about accidentally throwing a ball out her high rise window, playing X-box and the night out at Dicks Last Resort where we had an epic scrunched up napkin war. 

Following San Diego I have a work trip.  Well, there won’t be any work done, but it is through work.  The same folks that invited me to Dublin last year asked me to go to Montreal for a long weekend.  It’s a bit of a reunion of the same people so I invited Jeff again.  I’m sure there are odd trees for him to climb and pubs for us to discover. 

I’m most excited about my last trip of the month.  I’ll be in London again.  I was just there a few weeks ago.  The British Airways miles are going to accumulate fast.  No, I didn’t see Big Ben, Parliament, changing of the guard or any tourist attractions. 

I’ve been on a pursuit of meaningful happiness for a long time.  The kind that stays with you forever.  The kind not everyone is lucky enough to find.  I’ve found quite a bit of meaningful happiness during my quest already – healthy happy kids, a thriving business, my house, great friends, Burning Man, writing, adventures traveling and so much more really.  But this meaningful happiness wasn’t planned or actively sought.  It just happened and it’s fucking awesome.  I’m done with this part of the pursuit.

She is perfect for me.

Consider This an Email Update Rather Than a Blog Post

The only recent action on my blog has been spam comments.  Unfortunately I had to turn on word verification again which sucks because it takes two or three tries to guess the tiny blurry drunk gibberish they require you to put in to prove you are not a spammer and you have bionic vision.

Lately I’ve been hanging with my kids, working, writing, traveling and having fun.  So nothing new there.  But the stuff I’ve done with my kids, at work, with writing and the travels has been new.  Kid wise, Drew is really getting into baseball.  We played catch a dozen times over the weekend. Will is growing like a weed.  I nearly broke my back carrying him up the stairs the other night.  I demanded he stop growing immediately and he retaliated with a stern “no” and pounced on my back.

He is still my little boy though, even if he has monster feet and man legs for a ten year old.  On Sunday night he came downstairs around 10:30p complaining he couldn’t sleep because of a headache.  So I climbed in bed with him and made up stories to take his mind off his aching noggin.  Then we chatted about summer trips – we want to do San Diego and New York.  He is particularly interested in New York to check out the fashion scene and see the Statue of Liberty.  He was fascinated that his grandparents came over on a boat and that perhaps we had more consonants in our last name than we do right now.

A half hour later he seemed to have forgotten all about his headache but was wide awake with excitement and curiosity.  He eventually fell asleep and I checked on Drew.  He was perpendicularly sleeping in peace.  Someday he is going to drive a woman crazy with his tossing and turning.  I checked back on Will and he was curled up with what I swear was a smile in his sleep.  Watching your children sleep is one of the most beautiful and sweet things on earth.

Work has been crazy busy with some new business, two resignations, one new hire (and one more to go), an ongoing maternity leave and a lightening fast pace.  I can’t complain of the more intense days because I’ve still taken lots of time off to travel and play.

I was in the mountains, then Mexico, Vegas tomorrow and then overseas soon.  Each trip is better than the last and I’m stoked.

Although I haven’t written here much, I have been posting blogs for a friend’s company website.  That has been fun even though there still seems to be no readers.  I admit I abandoned the Artist’s Way project but I have good reason.  I’m working on a really cool project with a writing buddy.  I think it’s a great idea and was going to take a stab at a book.  But now that I’m in collaboration, we are making it into a screenplay.  We have a long way to go but it’s the most excited I’ve ever been about writing and I have a fantastic partner.

This is really an update rather than a clever blog post.  But right now, that’s all I got.  

The Next Hangover Movie

I had tickets for the Nuggets game last week on Friday.  It was a beautiful day here in Denver so I started my weekend early with an outdoor happy hour.  The festivities began on Friday at 3:30p.  I got home Sunday afternoon. It felt like my own version of the movie The Hangover.

There was a party for a grand opening of a new restaurant and bar by Coors Field.  Then there was the Nuggets game.  Post game drinks at the stadium restaurant.  And then we hired a suburban from Uber to drive us up to Blackhawk/Central City for gambling.  We didn’t have any luggage, coats or anything on us other than what we wore to the game. We had more drinks on the way up.  We called on the way up and found a room at The Reserve for the night.

We gambled a bunch, had more drinks and woke up really groggy on Saturday morning.  We had breakfast and then more gambling and making lots of friends over bloody marys and screwdrivers.  Speaking of bloody, there was a bloody sock and a casino manager with triple antibiotic and bandages.  There was a food stained smelly shirt and the same casino manager with a clean t-shirt from their gift shop.  There was a comped meal.  There was a wine soaked toilet.  There was an old guy named Bob that was good luck.  There was the same casino manager again with toothbrushes and toothpaste.  And Advil. 

By late afternoon, two in our group were cut off from drinking (I was not one of them).  We went to a different casino.  I won money on the craps table but we had to leave because a third person in our group was cut off from drinking (not me). 

Our phones were collectively dead.  We borrowed a charger (one apple, one droid) from the casino manager.  I had about a 10% boost in order to call my ex to tell her I’d be missing an event Will had that I forgot about when someone had this brilliant idea on Friday.  There was no decent cell coverage so I left a vm, text and email by standing outside in front of the lobby.  I also made a call on Viber to no avail.  My phone was pretty much dead again.

We had an awesome steak dinner and a couple bottles of wine – the waiter didn’t get the message about not serving us.  Security came down and rectified that situation.  We all got cut off.

One of us (not me) requested a representative from the gaming commission to talk about cutting us off from drinking.  Security said they’d get them right away. A restaurant manager was insulted by accident.  Somebody said “pussy hole” way too loud. Apologies were given.  And then somebody claimed they helped write the drinking laws in gaming establishments and we should therefore be served.  The gaming commission representative was requested again. 

There were no rooms available that second night but the casino manager got us a room anyway. He asked what rooms we were in the night before.  When we said we shared one room, he laughed and said say no more!  Despite our problems, they liked us and wanted us to stay.

We gambled more and were very polite and fun to everyone.  We think.  The next day we had breakfast and it seemed like the entire staff knew us.  They were all saying hi and telling us how fun we were.  We asked if we owed anyone apologies.  Just a few they thought.  

The casino manager comped half our room costs.  And another meal.  We smelled really bad.  Same clothes since Friday morning.  Somebody bought deodorant from the gift shop that smelled like Skittles.    Somebody lost both socks and was wearing bare feet in his loafers.  I threw away my undershirt.  We found $100 in chips under the desk. We didn’t have a way to get home.  It was snowing outside and we had no coats (it was nice on Friday in Denver).   The casino manager finagled bus passes for us for free. 

I think maybe they were ready for us to leave.