Bumper Eloquence and Demetri Martin

Yesterday, while walking down my street, I saw a bumper sticker on a car that said, in stark, black lettering: "My child was Student of the Month at P.S. so-and-so"

Anyway, the sticker got me thinking.

It got me thinking about how long bumper sticker adhesive is supposed to last.

It got me thinking about whether that parent was forgetful, arrogant, or just bouyantly optimistic about said child's reign--like their kid was an academic dynasty. January, February, March... unstoppable.

It got me thinking about how people showed parental pride before the invention of the automobile.

It got me thinking about whether that guy who has the "I'm sane. The little voices in my head told me so." bumper sticker still chuckles at in when he gets in the car every day.

It got me thinking about a connection between Student of the Month Bumper Stickers and which students have been punched in their face during any given month.

It got me thinking about a line from a favorite comedian of mine, Demetri Martin "“A lot of people don’t like bumper stickers. I don’t mind bumper stickers. To me a bumper sticker is a shortcut. It’s like a little sign that says ‘Hey, let’s never hang out.’”

So, I did a lot of thinking. But the only thing that really came out of it was a reminder that Demetri Martin is one of the funniest people in America.

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0826314/quotes

Have you seen this quilt?

In my absurd, scattershot meanderings on the World Wide Webature, I occasionally come across things that make me smile. I will share two with you that I already discovered this morning.



First, a quilting business called Speckled Hen Quilts. Their cryptic and intriguing tagline? "Spotted Roosters and Speckled Hens.... this is where the FUN begins!"



Indeed.



Also, I enjoyed the "Have you seen this quilt?" section. An APB for missing blankets, or an afghan Amber Alert. I can't believe someone stole that quilt right off the wall. A fox in the proverbial henhouse, it seems. It was probably stolen for drug money... I wonder what the black market value of a primo quilt is.



Anyway, if you find yourself in Wilsonville, OR.... stop by Speckled Hen Quilts. And bring your A-game. Cuz i don't know where the FUN ends, but I sure as heck know where it begins.





Moving on...



I have UCLA beating North Carolina in the championship game of the NCAA tournament. But after seeing this picture, I won't be upset if NC wins. Because it will make this woman happy. Go Heels.

happy st. paddy's day

Enjoy the day, avoid the leprechaun. And if you are an amateur sketch artist, take note.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nda_OSWeyn8

Anyone who sees the leprechaun, say yay.

Hermes gets props again for sending me that link. I'd seen it before, but it is timeless and it is fantastic.

Tripping

This morning, as I was walking from the Metro North train to the silver 15-passenger van that takes me and my fellow commuters to work everyday (more on that in a future post), I saw a guy in front of me with his shoe untied.

His hair was extremely short. In fact, he had shaved some sort of symbols or hieroglyphics into the side of his head. I tried to get a good look at them to see if I could read this important follicular message, but I could only catch a glimpse of a few slivers of it. I think it was more abstract cranial art anyway. But I admired his creativity in finding ways—however fleeting—in which to express himself. His pate was but a blank slate.

In any event, he was wearing clothes in a particular style—marked by bagginess. Baggy jacket. Really baggy pants. It wasn’t slovenly, really… just remarkably roomy and somewhat gravitationally-challenged. I recognize that this is a style, though. Unbelievably loose and low-hanging clothing… it’s fashion.

I looked down, and noticed his shoe was untied. Normally, I’m quick to let someone know when this is the case. They risk injury and embarrassment, and it is an easily remedied situation. But at this moment, I was paralyzed with indecision, because I didn’t know if it was a hazard or a fashion statement.

I could have said “Sir, you shoe is untied.”

And he could’ve said “I know. Nothing’s tied on me! I’m untethered, bitch!”

Or I could’ve said “Hi there, might want to tie those. Don’t want to trip.”

And he might’ve said “And you might want to take those beat 1995-looking things on your feet and shove them directly up your cobbler’s ass. Those shoes look like they voted for Bob Dole. Who let you leave the house in those? Looks like you’re the one who is tripping. Ohhhhhh snap!”

So, in the end, I didn’t say anything to him. I only had a moment, and then he was too far away for me to say anything (he walked briskly, despite the expected looseness of his shoes). I regret it. I wish I hadn’t let fashion insecurities get in the way of neighborly concern.

Anyway, the lesson, I think, is that my subconscious thinks I need new shoes. Preferably without laces.

Witness

Last night was the greatest individual athletic performance I’ve ever seen in person.

My buddy Brendan got seats, last-minute, on the floor at the Garden (thanks again, Hermes). Knicks vs. Cavs. Not being much of an NBA fan, this is probably the only game I would want to see, because of the Cavs’ star player. I’ve been following him, passively, for a while now.

He was probably the most hyped athlete ever to enter the pro ranks. I remember reading an article once about him and his potential in the NBA. Danny Ainge, a former player and coach and a current General Manager, said at the time “There are only about 5 or 6 players in the league that I wouldn’t trade right now” to get him. In and of itself, that’s a bold statement about someone who hasn’t stepped on the court with the world’s best players yet. It is even more impressive when you take into account that the person in question was a sophomore in high school.

LeBron James. The King. The Chosen One.

Last night I got to see whether all the hype was well-deserved.

From the minute he stepped on the court, you could tell he was better than everyone else. He saw things no one else did. He would throw a pass in the only place it could be thrown in order to reach its target. He wouldn’t bother to make some pass-or-shoot decisions until after he had jumped—he had enough time in the air to consider several options. The expression on his face (one of the considerable perks of being on the floor – you can actually see their faces) never changed.

I remember wondering why he chose to pass on a play, when I thought he could’ve easily scored. Then I realized… it’s because he could. The situation wasn’t dictating anything to him. He was in complete control of what happened.

He had at least four passes that made the crowd gasp. He had a seemingly implausible, rib-shaking dunk that made the crowd roar. He had a half court shot before halftime that made the thousands in attendance howl. And in the fourth quarter, when the outcome of the game was in doubt, he hit four three-pointers in the final two-plus minutes to put the game away. It was like an orca tossing a seal around before he mercilessly tears it in two. He was playing, just having fun… with giants who are supposed to be his peers.

In the end, the box score said it all: 50 points, 10 assists, 8 rebounds, 4 steals. It was the first time a player has had at least 50 points, 10 assists and 8 rebounds in a game since 1975 (a fella named Kareem did that). And the crowd got more than they had expected—which was a lot.

Look, basketball is just a game. These guys are playing a game, and getting paid handsomely for it. But when you get a chance to see someone—anyone—who is the best at what they do, it is impressive. Whether that person is a musician, a painter, a precocious math-lete… to see someone who is so clearly at the top of their game, so shrug-and-sigh great at what they do—it’s a treat. And it doesn’t hurt that this guy is just turned 23 years old in December*—so the treats will probably keep on comin’.

Last night I saw complete dominance. I saw a master. And as much as I hate to regurgitate corporate taglines, in this case it seems appropriate:

Last night, I was a witness.



*incidentally, I found out Lebron’s b-day—December 30th—is shared by another famous person: Tiger Woods. Future parents – keep that in mind when you’re planning your brood. Apparently, the cosmos has deemed that day ‘Absurd Athlete Birthing Day’.