It seems that lately the mustache is making a comeback. I think this, in large, is due to the popularity of ridiculous looking fashion and celebrities wanting to look like homeless people. Men arrogantly think that just anyone can grow a mustache. That is far from the truth. I have only seen a handful of mustaches that I would classify as "passable" in my life time.
The bottom line is that people don't fear the mustache as they should. The mustache is not a thing to be trifled with. The reactions that is causes are never mild. You are either that serial killer trying to make a good impression, or you are Magnum P.I. and there is no in between. I've seen mustaches ruin a look (I'm talking to you Brad Pitt), cause people to cringe, break up relationships, and take over whole countries. Oh, did you think that it was just coincidence that Hitler and Stalin had lip fairies.
Of coarse THE mustache belongs to Tom Selleck. I have never in my life encountered a mustache that is more groomed, more perfect, or more powerful. I realized this while I was watching the 1984 technological thriller "Runaway". This movie is bad. How bad is it? Gene Simmons (from Kiss) is the super smart super villain. But I was compelled to continue to watch for the same reason Magnum P.I. was a sex symbol. The same reason "Richard" on friends was so cool. For the same reason Mr. Baseball was awesome. And the reason movies like 3 Men and a Baby, Her Alibi, and Quigley Down Under were watchable.
My advice to you... don't grow a mustache. Leave that to Tom.
Magnum is here to see you...
Continued: "Nacho" Not Your Day
It has been almost two years... two full years. I blogged almost two years ago about a girl named Laura who works at the Taco Bell/KFC in Yorkville who NEVER NEVER NEVER got my order right. Laura is gone (I can only assume that Muppet tanned herself to death) but the tradition of giving me the shaft lives on.
Here we are two years later. I have yet to recieve a correct order from this Taco Bell.
Fantastic Fecal Medical Miricles
The secretary were I work has had a disease for the last year called Clostridium Difficile or "C. diff" for short. It is not a comfortable thing to live with because it is basically chronic tummy aches with perpetual diarrhea. Most strains can be cured with ten days of antibiotics. Worst case scenario, the antibiotics kill off all the bad bacteria in your intestines... but also the good bacteria that helps your body process your food. Now you are screwed.
In order to put the "good bacteria" back into your body you need a transplant... not of organs or blood, but of fecal matter... poop. That's right. You have to have a "healthy donor" take a crap in a bag at the hospital then they make you shove it up your nose, eat it, or well... forcefully put it were it belongs.
I believe the obvious question is "Who pioneered this modern miracle drug?" I truthfully don't know, but I imagine it was awkward the first time this was tried.
"Well sir, we can't seem to cure your diarrhea, but with all this technology at our disposal we think the best thing to do is to shove crap up your nose and hope for the best."
"That is disgusting!"
"Don't worry, it won't be YOUR fecal matter... Bob the intern here has volunteered to help out. Apparently, Bob has good solid bowel movements. Plus, he was in a fraternity and has excellent experience at pooping in a bag. At first, we considered asking that B#$%# in Pediatrics that won't go out with me to do it, because she things that her crap doesn't stink. However, she seems to think this procedure is grasping at straws. But we'll show her, won't we Mr. Johnson?"
Wii are Watching You
My wife and I were really excited by the new Wii Fit we received for Christmas. Our Wii has been the bridge in our marriage between the "Gamer" and his bride. So I immediately set it up, we loaded our Mii's and created our Fit profiles. We weighed in, set a goal, and then left for three days to visit my family.
When we returned we realized what Wii had done and what we had unleashed. The following is an actual conversation between myself and my Wii Trainer.
Wii: Hello Lucas. I haven't seen you in 3 days. You should really make working out a regular habit.
Lucas: Presses "A" button in shame
Wii: Well, now that it is the new year are you back because you have a resolution? Are you ready to get serious?
Lucas: Presses "A" button annoyed
Wii: Please step on the balancing board and let's mark your progress. Oh, it says here you have gained two pounds. Please select the reason for this weight gain:
Not enough exercise Lack of commitment
I ate too much I'm Lazy
I'm constipated I'm not eating healthy
I broke my promise to the Wii trainer
Lucas: Presses "A" button without dignity
Wii: Oh, I see. Well you are going to have to try harder to meet your goal. Instead of playing balance games, why don't we do more aerobic exercises, this will burn more of your fat.
Lucas: Presses "A" button slightly unnerved
Wii: You know if you did these on a regular basis you would improve.
Your balance needs improvement.
Fight the fat!
Not bad, but maybe if you weren't gay you could do a proper jack knife.
I saw you eating that McDonalds in your office. That is going to cost you Fit Coins.
Please choose the reason you are worthless, fat and lazy.
Maybe you should buy our new game Wii -eating disorders.
Wii are everywhere.
Lucas: Presses "A" button in quiet desperation
I tell you, it has gotten to the point that I choose what and where I eat based on if I think the Wii is going to give my crap about it. By connecting it to the Internet, I have unleashed it. I buy junkfood in cash so there is no electronic fingerprint the Wii can trace. I work hard all day and have to come home to the TV turning itself on and the Wii trainer with his smug little pony tail saying...
The Wii has ended this blog post.
Certainty
At my job we have a saying, "People are more important than programs." But programming is a lot easier.
Yesterday I arrived just in time to help the coroner carry out the body of my friend's dad. It was all very matter-of-fact. "Hey buddy can you help me with this?" It didn't dawn on me till half way down the icy steps what was inside of that bag on the stretcher. I would have come because of friendship, but I was there as a pastor. The difference is that the friend sits with the family, but the pastor speaks words of comfort and hugs EVERYONE knowing what to say. At least I think that is the case because that seems to be what the eyes of everyone in the kitchen were yearning for as they stared at me.
Questions seem to bubble to the surface as soon as you are semi-alone with the family members. "I just feel angry. Is that wrong?" "Are you certain where my Dad is now?" In that moment you want to be able to just say anything to make them feel better. But what about truth? So you try to do both and it just comes out awkward. So you just listen as they corner you one at a time while everyone else hustles around trying to find something to do. Something to fix. Something that will make it seem like they are making this better.
That is the most frustrating thing about death. You can't fix anything. You can't fix the deceased. You can't EXPLAIN to the family that what they are feeling will get better. I can contribute though. I wrote the sermon for funeral last night. Words that seems trite compared to what is going on in their hearts. The hope of Christ is the only thing that shields us from death, but experiencing that love is different than saying that to a room full of people that may or may not even have the slightest idea what it is.
I just want to be there for my friend.
Juvenile
Juvenile. One of those things that are a secret, but not really a secret is that grown-ups are just kids with money and drivers licences. It is one of the things that everyone really knows, but it says in the background and is never acknowledged. But every once in awhile you let that little, immature child peek out. Other times you let it run wild soaring on wings like eagles.
Thursday I took off a day of work because at midnight (Wednesday night/Thursday morning) a video game was being released to the public. At first my friends and I would say, "I'm not going to the midnight release because I have a life... I'm not that much of a nerd... I'm a grown-up." But that didn't last very long, because we realized how few times we have a chance to really let our inner nerdy child run wild. So we saw the opportunity and we seized it. It was not beneficial to our health, our career, or the general well-being of all mankind. But it was fun.
Then after the deed was done, we gathered ourselves up, showered the night and day from our bodies and resolved ourselves to joining the rest of civilized society. We parted ways with the understanding that we would never speak of these things until the next gathering. As we grow older, I would encourage you not to skip these weekend flings with your closest childhood friend... your own inner child.
Extortion
As I watched the clerk across the counter pick up the scanner and swipe it across my choices in a motion he had obviously done enough that it had become a reflex, I found my mind drifting into wondering what the life of a thirty year old video clerk would be like. I didn't really get past the stack of pizza boxes in my mother's basement when I was yanked from my fantasy by my total flashing on the screen. Five dollars to rent a movie! Really! The clerk, not knowing if I was paying attention or maybe he was just used to the shocked expression, repeated my total. Immediately I went rigid with self-control because my first inclination was to reach over the counter a slap him. I could see it clearly in my head...
"It's 9.98."
SMACK
"I'm sorry, what was the total again?"
I have since decided that I could not, in good conscious, be a thirty year old video clerk.
Tenuous
Recently, I have been trying as hard as I can to become informed about what is going on in the USA and abroad. It is an election year which means I have to catch up on four years of politics so I can not pay attention for an other four in hopes that the man elected will not share my distractions. But recently, there is a sense of urgency in my learning. I have discovered the sad state of affairs that our country is in and have devised a plan of action. Which is why I have decided to run for President. I think that is a good starting place, but I actually don't think that is enough power to set the world right. Maybe I will work for MTV... that might have more influence.
What is really funny is all the things lately that people think will effect my relationship with them. The conversation started with my wife telling me "Don't worry!" she would not ask me who I was voting for. I replied "McCain" before she finished her sentence. I don't believe a married couple should agree on everything, but they shouldn't hide anything. She is "undecided" but I couldn't care less who she voted for. Okay that is not true, but it wouldn't come between our marriage. Everyone gets an opinion and lately voting is picking the lesser of two (not evils) less than inspiring leaders. I'm curious how this goes down in other households.
Soft
I have never considered myself a people pleaser or a peace keeper. In high school my personal manifesto was "Screw you, I'm doing what I want to do." In college, I had a reputation as being "kind of an @$$ until you got to know me better." I've never really cared a tremendous amount about fitting in. So, why is it that I so desperately yearn for my niece to like me!?!
My niece is the most beautiful little girl in the whole world right now. She is smart and cute and really really tiny for her age. But she is so darn fickle, and it drives me up the wall. One day she will shout "uncla ewck" which is suppose to be "uncle Luc" and point and me wanting to play. We will sing songs and make faces at each other. This past weekend we went to the pumpkin farm and walked around together touching every pumpkin and saying the word. I find such fulfillment in the short time I spend with her.
Then there are days where she is scared of me and wants nothing to do with me. No kisses, no hugs, and no fun with Uncle Luc. It makes me so frustrated. Not only her bi-polar love, but the fact that I care so much about my brother's daughter.