Monday, September 21, 2009

A close inspection of Beautiful Women

The saying goes that ‘Beauty is only skin deep’ But I believe the beauty in fact goes much deeper than that. ‘Hot’ is only skin deep. Beauty is a three dimensional concept. It has layers and pieces that aren’t automatically revealed just by looking at someone. To recognize beauty, you have to have an appreciation for something. To appreciate that thing, you first must have knowledge about it. When it comes to women, I think its fair to say that most guys’ knowledge could roughly fill up a post-it note. So I’ve decided to share some of my own observations in hopes of shedding some light on the elusive ‘beautiful woman’

Living with four female roommates this past year, I have gotten a rare glimpse into the lives of women. It’s a vantage point that few heterosexual males ever get to have. I’ve gotten to witness their practices and conventions. I’ve gotten a behind the scenes look at everything they do. What I’ve learned is that they are incredible. These four women encompass everything you would want your daughter to grow up to be. They are intelligent, compassionate, and loyal. They are independent and strong. They are in a word… beautiful.


Watching them get ready to go out:

It’s a ritualistic process that starts hours before leaving the house. Within the operation are a dozen mini tasks, each contributing to the final presentation. You have to watch them wield these tools with surgical precision and care. From curling, and straightening, to the tweezing and plucking, the process is repeated daily no matter the occasion. The clothes are chosen judiciously. Each item deliberately highlighting whatever the girl has chosen to be her weapon of attraction. Every accessory is carefully matched and balanced to acquire the perfect splash of color or contrast. Every piece has a purpose and a goal. The methodology is not one of vanity or narcissism. But rather a reflection or there own personalities displayed at eye level.

Entering a room with them:

Women enter a room with the grace and confidence of a 50’s movie star walking the red carpet. In this moment they are the center of all attention, and they carry it with complete control, never daunted by eyes fixated on them. Though insecurities may be hiding just under the surface, such trivial details are never revealed to the public. Instead they remain poised and steadfast… and can never be ignored.

Listening to a conversation:

It’s only when you really listen to a women’s conversations do you get a sense of the innate caring they all share. They listen rather than waiting for their turn to talk. They always look each other in the eyes. Women share a comradery that could only be likened to that of combat veterans. It is an unspoken bond they all share. A quiet understanding that they have faced the same demons and lost the same battles. And now exist as testaments to their strength having survived them. They share something that could never be expressed, but is rather accepted in a slight nod, to a sisterhood that spans the globe. They offer unwavering support for their friends and would admonish anyone who ever dreamed of hurting them. (usually us guys)

Watching them work:

A woman’s passion is always revealed through her professional life. And when you see it you suddenly realize that the fragile damsels we are taught to protect, are in fact incredibly intelligent and capable creatures that are in no need of our aid. They fight every day to prove these traits, sometimes for their entire adult lives. In their professional worlds they command attention through their knowledge as well as their complete control in every situation. They spend their lives on an un-level playing field, but never complain about it. Rather they push forward an inch everyday for the respect and consideration their male counterparts were given automatically.

Watching them prepare a gift:

Everything about the gift is well thought out. The time spent planning is an act in itself. Whether it’s for a husband or a friend, each aspect is assembled with care. Each piece is devoted to enhancing the recipient’s experience. It truly is the little things: how carefully it is wrapped, the meticulous application of the frosting, sincerity of the hand written note in every card. Every detail is an act of selflessness. From mothers on down, the most sincere gifts we ever receive come from the women in our lives.


While I’ve had the rare experience to view these things first hand, every guy has experienced the finished product. It’s often acknowledged, but rarely appreciated. The hollow compliments pale in comparison to the effort they exude. It would be like telling Michelangelo that the Sistine Chapel “looked nice”. But despite our shortage of adjectives, they continue to amaze us. As guys we often miss it. Too quick to assess what we see ‘skin deep’, never contemplating the tireless endeavors that have brought them there. We go on believing that these things are somehow all for us. That women need us much more than we want them. But upon closer inspection it is clear that as guys, we exist purely as accessories, only there to compliment or complete the overall package, and that these women are beautiful without us.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

29 years in a blink of an eye

As the years add up, there is a tendency to miss our youth, or to question the lives we call our own. Being that I'm on the eve of my birthday I decided to do a run down of a few of the more salient events in my own life. As I review this list, I can't help feeling a sense of pride about everything I have experienced in this relatively short life. Some people twice my age couldn't hold a candle to it. What makes me feel even better is that I know, I'm forgetting things that should probably be on there. But between these lines, lie the better measure of a good life, the people you shared them with. Because even now I don't remember the details of some of these moments, but I do remember with absolute clarity who was next to me during them.

So without further ado, my life in no particular order:

Drove across the country

Graduated college

Fell in love

Went on African Safari

Took a helicopter to prom

Saw the Tour de France

Visited Paris

Stood on the Equator

Visited the Galapagos Islands

Saw Michael Jackson live

Was on a girls gone wild commercial

Had my heart broken

Got a job

Got fired

Lost a parent

Earned a varsity letter

Watched the Macy's Day Parade from Time Square

Recorded a CD

Wrote a screenplay

Saw Eric Clapton live

Rode a bike down a volcano

Moved to California

Shot a gun

Went to Mardi Gras

Surfed in Hawaii

Skied in Vail

Walked down Abbey Road

Smoked a joint

Kissed a stranger

Swam with dolphins

Visited Normandy

Learned to drive a stick shift

Spent Christmas on a beach

Rode a motorcycle

Went skydiving

Climbed a mountain

Joined the mile high club

Went skinny dipping

Had surgery

Performed at The Rainbow Room

Saw Bob Dylan live

Did a rum tasting in Barbados

Went on a cruise

Got arrested

Went fly fishing in Alaska

Was a Captain of a team

Ate caviar

Befriended a stranger

Found God

Saved a child from drowning

Got stitches

Went snorkeling in the Caribbean

laughed till i cried

Learned to play guitar

Rode in a hot air balloon

Gambled in Las Vegas

Got in a fight

Pierced my ears

Got a tattoo

Watched the 10 greatest movies of all time

Watched someone die

Visited the Grand Canyon

Ate a steak at Tavern on the Green

Flew in a stunt plane

Watched a sunrise in New York

Watched a sunset in California

Stood up at a wedding

Made a movie

Committed a crime

Taught a class

Slept under the stars

Saw a Broadway Show

Attended the U.S. Open

Spent an entire day in bed

Won an award

Jumped off a bridge

Jumped off a cliff

Shared a beer with my Dad

Became an older brother

and walked my mom down the isle


TO BE CONTINUED....

Thursday, August 27, 2009

A tender farewell to instant memories



I often tease my mom about her slow crawl into the digital age. From her strict adherence to CD purchasing, in spite of the semi annual itunes gift cards, to her dissonance toward online shopping. My remarks are almost always rebuffed by her stark claim: "I need something tangible that I can hold in my hand." To which I respond with rolling eyes, as is the responsibility of every kid to such a twentieth century parental argument. But it would seem that my age is beginning to show, because I can't help but feel a little sad about the extinction of the polaroid.
Polaroid announced last year that it would be discontinuing the medium for good. A victim of technological darwinism, the writing has been on the wall for some time. After all, you can't upload them to facebook, or enhance them in photoshop, hell they don't even take "good" pictures. But for a long time they offered a surreal interpretation of our fondest memories.

Long before the advent of mega-pixels and memory cards, one was asked to limit their memories to rolls of 24. Sometimes these would capture a single event, but more often spanned months or even years, only marking the most pertinent moments during that time. As a result, photos acted as triggers for the memory. We were required to fill in the context surrounding it. Leaving our minds to retrace the memory with only a flimsy 4x6 to guide us.

The polaroid brought a whole new element because it was instant (by analog terms anyway). It transcended mere documentation to become part of the moment it was observing. In doing so we manage to preserve both the image and the memory together as one palpable experience. While digital cameras strive human fidelity and detailed realism, polaroids estheticize the moments they capture. Cropping a panoramic world into a soft summary square. Creating a self contained memory, complete with its own albescent frame.

The incessant shaking of the image was part of the ritual, as you anxiously waited to review the instant nostalgia. Their slightly warped images evoked an immediate sentimentality, no matter if it was ten minutes old, or ten years. And the scribbled footnote in the bottom margin was all you had to tell the difference. Even the most inane subjects gained a mysterious relevancy through a polaroid lens. A dirty pair of converse sneakers, or an empty doorway suddenly adopted a romantic tenderness that your eyes never managed to catch.

I have retained a small collection of personal polaroids, and now wish I had more. But I have come to really enjoy looking at others'. There is something intimate about looking at a polaroid you didn't take. You stare at the small image, and it draws you in. You find yourself wondering why the photographer chose to capture this moment. Why did they choose this one over all the others. It is like peeking into another life and sharing a moment that was never yours.

Polaroids will now go the way of vinyl and 16mm film. And so we will go on, trading our physical lives for a series of ones and zeros, ever looking for higher definition and sharper recreation of the world around us. But I can't help looking forward twenty years from now, to showing my kids a polaroid and inherently surrendering to my age, by reminiscing about the days when memories were tangible. And of course... they will roll their eyes.


Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Life without 'maybe'

A long time ago in a playground far far away we discovered a way to communicate with the opposite sex. And in that instant we stumbled upon brilliance, like only a child can. It wasn't a complicated system by todays standards, but it somehow was enough for you to learn everything you needed to know.

It went something like this: First, you tear out a small corner of your notebook paper. You had to make sure the the paper was just the right size. It had to be big enough so not to be lost when past, but small enough to be able to abort the mission should one of your friends see you making such a document (maybe this was only for us boys) Then using your best penmanship and your finest mechanical pencil, you assembled the question to end all questions: "Do you like me?"

Now here is where the genuis comes in.

In fear the recipient might not know how to reciprocate to such a query you make it multiple choice and provide them with instructions.


YES NO

CIRCLE ONE


Clearly we were on to something here. We had established foolproof method for learning the most important thing in our lives. We had cut through the nonsense of innuendo, and non verbal cues. We even found a way to avoid saying it out loud. We had it ALL...


And then....


some idiot comes along and decides to fuck it all up by writing in a third option

MAYBE


While I'm sure we could argue forever over whose gender ruined this adolescent eden we had stumbled upon, I think we can collectively agree that all our problems began as soon as mysterious third option appeared.

'Maybe' is the reason there are 20 magazines each month that claim to know what a he or she is thinking, and how to get them to like you.

Maybe you will find someone better

Maybe you wont find someone better, so you should stay with this person

Maybe ill go out with them

Maybe ill call

Isn't amazing how just one word can complicate your life that much?

We all do it. It becomes our fallback. Our preferred method of avoidance, especially when it comes to commitment. We slowly come to accept this as a viable option in our lives, and take comfort in the ambiguity.

But lets be honest... such questions and feelings are as black and white as they were on those notes, and if you don't think its that simple please tell me how many weddings you've been to where the "do you take so and so" is responded to with "maybe"


People deserve that and we should act accordingly

Why live your life in a phase of uncertainty?
I'll either do things or not do things... but no more hiding behind maybes.



its deep... let it sink in.