This is gonna be a thing.
Let's make this a thing.
Here's the premise. For those of you who aren't baseball fans, the "Mendoza Line" is named for Mario Mendoza, and, as an aside, it's kinda a crock of shit.
The Mendoza Line, in common baseball parlance, is maintaining a batting avg. of .200, or, put another way, sucking. If you are batting below .200, or "below the Mendoza Line", you are really sucking. Bad.
I say it's a crock because Mario Mendoza was a defensive replacement, and had a lifetime batting average of .215, not .200. He also went to the Mexican Baseball Hall of Fame for his coaching career. But i digress.
The Friendoza Line (c) (copyrighted!!!!)
We all have one friend, who we, kinda sorta, put up with more than we like. Maybe it's someone from high school who you just could never break away from, maybe it's that college friend who still drops by to crash on your couch with no notice (oh crap. i just realized that i might be the Friendoza Line for a BUNCH of people!). There could be lots of reasons you could not like your friends. I'm pretty sure it's human nature (and i'm a doctor, so it's, like, totally fact). Whatever the reason. Think of that person. Think of the person who, for you, meets the absolute minimum requirements for continuing a friendship. They are your Friendoza Line (c).
When you think of other people in and around your life, you can ask yourself, "Do I like this person more or less than Friendoza?" If you think more, you are friends with that person. If you think less, they are not really your friends.
What i like most about the Friendoza Line (c) is that it is a constant in an ever changing environment. Friendships, sadly, are not constant life packs. It's ok. Cry it out. I'll wait. While Facebook et al. gives us an almost overwhelming amount of opportunity to stay in touch with practically everyone we meet in the Interneted world, we simply don't have the time to be besties 4 Life with everyone we meet, for always. By the same right, people who have been acquaintances for years can very quickly become close friends. Or, someone could move to Iran (I'm looking at YOU, kaveh!). And so, our friendships dodge, duck, dip, dive, and dodge above, below, and along the Friendoza Line (c).
And, perhaps you're wondering why you would ever need a system for deciphering whether or not someone is really your friend. I'm certainly not suggesting you should start weighing and measuring all of your relationships. That's crazy talk.
But every now and again you might get that feeling that maybe Evan is more toxic than tastic (are the kids saying "tastic"? short for fantastic? can i copyright that too?). When and if that time comes, take comfort in knowing that you have the Friendoza Line to help you out in your time of interpersonal crisis.
The Friendoza Line
Wednesday, April 25, 2012 | 0 Comment(s)
Sunday, April 8, 2012 | 0 Comment(s)
Ok. My dad has an iphone now. Well technically, he's on his 3rd iphone.
He had my old one, which he never picked up as far as i can tell. Then he simply took and played with my mom's iphone (she is a fairly accomplished tech-head for her cohort--and she is Bill Gates compared to my father's computer skills). Finally, with much prodding, we got him one of his very own. So far, there have been 3 amazing phone calls related to this purchase.
(for the record, while i poke fun of my father's tech skills, i love him dearly and he knows how to cure cancer . . . so . . . there's always a trade off).
Phone Call #1.
Dad: Matt, how do i access my email.
Me: You mean the one i set up for you like 10 years ago (aol).
Dad: Yah, or the one you set up 3 years ago (gmail).
I proceed to give him his log in and probable passwords.
Dad: So now I can activate my iPhone?
Me: What?
Dad: Now that I have my email address, I can activate my new iPhone, . . . right?
Me: Dad, your email and your iPhone are totally different things. You can own an iPhone and not even have an email address.
Dad: Are you SURE that's right?
Me: Positive.
Dad: Hmmmm . . . ok.
Phone Call #2
(my phone rings--dad's cell number and picture pop up)
Me: Hey dad
Dad: Hey, could you call me back on your Mom's cell. We are in the car right now, and my phone looks to be really low on battery.
Me: Um, why didn't you just call me with Mom's phone.
Dad: Oh, yah, that would have been a better idea.
Phone Call #3
(my personal favorite)
This phone call came JUST after my father called me back from Phone Call #2 on my mom's cell phone.
As I begin talking with my parents between my and my mom's cell -- I get that beep that means an incoming call.
I look down, and there is my Dad's face looking back at me, smiling. Almost as if he knew how hilarious it was that he was pocket dialing me from his iPhone, into a conversation that he just re-initiated because of his phone's dying battery.
That's not even the punch line folks. This is:
He ended up leaving a 4 minute plus message on my voice-mail which was a recording of the conversation we were having on the other two phones (on speakerphone). The whole conversation that we couldn't have on dad's phone because of its waning battery was recorded onto said dying phone, in its entirety.
I laughed the whole 4+ minutes.
He had my old one, which he never picked up as far as i can tell. Then he simply took and played with my mom's iphone (she is a fairly accomplished tech-head for her cohort--and she is Bill Gates compared to my father's computer skills). Finally, with much prodding, we got him one of his very own. So far, there have been 3 amazing phone calls related to this purchase.
(for the record, while i poke fun of my father's tech skills, i love him dearly and he knows how to cure cancer . . . so . . . there's always a trade off).
Phone Call #1.
Dad: Matt, how do i access my email.
Me: You mean the one i set up for you like 10 years ago (aol).
Dad: Yah, or the one you set up 3 years ago (gmail).
I proceed to give him his log in and probable passwords.
Dad: So now I can activate my iPhone?
Me: What?
Dad: Now that I have my email address, I can activate my new iPhone, . . . right?
Me: Dad, your email and your iPhone are totally different things. You can own an iPhone and not even have an email address.
Dad: Are you SURE that's right?
Me: Positive.
Dad: Hmmmm . . . ok.
Phone Call #2
(my phone rings--dad's cell number and picture pop up)
Me: Hey dad
Dad: Hey, could you call me back on your Mom's cell. We are in the car right now, and my phone looks to be really low on battery.
Me: Um, why didn't you just call me with Mom's phone.
Dad: Oh, yah, that would have been a better idea.
Phone Call #3
(my personal favorite)
This phone call came JUST after my father called me back from Phone Call #2 on my mom's cell phone.
As I begin talking with my parents between my and my mom's cell -- I get that beep that means an incoming call.
I look down, and there is my Dad's face looking back at me, smiling. Almost as if he knew how hilarious it was that he was pocket dialing me from his iPhone, into a conversation that he just re-initiated because of his phone's dying battery.
That's not even the punch line folks. This is:
He ended up leaving a 4 minute plus message on my voice-mail which was a recording of the conversation we were having on the other two phones (on speakerphone). The whole conversation that we couldn't have on dad's phone because of its waning battery was recorded onto said dying phone, in its entirety.
I laughed the whole 4+ minutes.
Saturday, April 7, 2012 | 0 Comment(s)
Those of you who follow this blog, or have been following it for awhile, know that I have done a series revolving around the people you would meet in the old UMASS men's locker room (they now have a new facility which I never use because there is no pool in the new building). And one of the most intriguing characters from this series is the guy who hangs his nasty ass bathing suit on the outside of his locker. Here was my last post on the subject. If you search "locker" on the blog, you can read them all. Long story short, in a form of experimental psychological conditioning, I began tying knots in the strings of this guys bathing suit as a type of silent protest. The knots became plentiful, but, someone amazingly, the bathing was not moved inside the safety of his locker.
then there was a shift. somewhere along the line i met this guy, and he turns out to be incredibly nice. Also, bad things started happening to me . . . like . . . back surgery-- keeping me from the pool.
I am not an extremely superstitious man, but I figure there may be a grain of truth in almost anything. And something about the connection between my sabotage of a nice person's bathing trunks (no matter how gross their display) and my own physical disintegration, gave me pause. It paused me right into a head on collision with believing in karma. At least I began to see the connection, and believe in the concept enough to stop. But more straightforwardly, I stopped f'ing with this guys shit because i felt the negativity was being reflected back onto my own life. yes, i can make even karma narcissistic.
So, you can imagine how self-important and righteously correct i felt when, upon opening my adjacent locker, I glanced over to see this:
Now, with no judgement, i can tell you that i would not have done this. It's not that i have any line of appropriateness (full stop) regarding the use of woodland accessories in pranking someone's swim paraphernalia.
Rather, I think it would just be way too much work to transport that thing all the way to the gym. And, i mean, making someone untie knots is funny to me and annoying to the person. A burr in your testicles is . . . well. . . that's actually much much funnier to me, but could cause actual pain to the subject. I'm more subtle.
BUT, as I saw this beautiful burr-filled sight before me, I must admit that I flashed back once again to our ol' friend karma. I stopped harassing this man's bad manners, feeling that his debt to me, personally, had been paid. And, as i found peace and centering on this subject, that tranquility came around and sent a new plague down upon that putrid rag of clothing. If you're going to believe in karma, even a little, i feel it best to remember that it works both ways. Don't keep yourself down by muting your behavior so as not to cause retribution. Remember, your inner peace should also bring hellfire and devastation down upon your enemies.
At least I'm pretty sure thats how it works.
then there was a shift. somewhere along the line i met this guy, and he turns out to be incredibly nice. Also, bad things started happening to me . . . like . . . back surgery-- keeping me from the pool.
I am not an extremely superstitious man, but I figure there may be a grain of truth in almost anything. And something about the connection between my sabotage of a nice person's bathing trunks (no matter how gross their display) and my own physical disintegration, gave me pause. It paused me right into a head on collision with believing in karma. At least I began to see the connection, and believe in the concept enough to stop. But more straightforwardly, I stopped f'ing with this guys shit because i felt the negativity was being reflected back onto my own life. yes, i can make even karma narcissistic.
So, you can imagine how self-important and righteously correct i felt when, upon opening my adjacent locker, I glanced over to see this:
 |
| is that a burr on your bathing suit, or are you just happy to see me! |
 |
| Aaron Burr |
Rather, I think it would just be way too much work to transport that thing all the way to the gym. And, i mean, making someone untie knots is funny to me and annoying to the person. A burr in your testicles is . . . well. . . that's actually much much funnier to me, but could cause actual pain to the subject. I'm more subtle.
BUT, as I saw this beautiful burr-filled sight before me, I must admit that I flashed back once again to our ol' friend karma. I stopped harassing this man's bad manners, feeling that his debt to me, personally, had been paid. And, as i found peace and centering on this subject, that tranquility came around and sent a new plague down upon that putrid rag of clothing. If you're going to believe in karma, even a little, i feel it best to remember that it works both ways. Don't keep yourself down by muting your behavior so as not to cause retribution. Remember, your inner peace should also bring hellfire and devastation down upon your enemies.
At least I'm pretty sure thats how it works.