Some New Digs

I have recently started contributing to a great local newspaper based in Lauderdale-by-the-Sea which is a favorite locale for April and I. You can check them out at www.bytheseafuture.com

Below are my first couple of columns. It's kind of like the poor man's Dave Barry, or something like that....I'll hopefully begin linking them here regularly and not posting them in chaotic bulk like this...

Cleaning up the Streets

January 30, 2009

Lauderdale-By-The-Sea may not be the horn-blowing capital of the world, but its seasonal traffic is certainly not listed as a tourist attraction by the Chamber of Commerce either.

So as we continue to dwell in this abode with ever increasing traffic, I'm hereby proposing the federal government add one more stipulation to any bailouts they give to the automakers:

Car companies must add an "alternative horn" as a standard feature to all their production models.

Why? Well perhaps you have found yourself in the exact same scenario I was in the other day:

I'm routinely sitting at a red light, when the light suddenly turned green but the car in front of me failed to move. Working on my patience, I extended the few courtesy seconds - I'm by no means the guy who has his hand already on the horn waiting to honk a nanosecond after the light turns green, like some sort of wild west outlaw with an itchy trigger finger - and yet after the few seconds had gone by the car still wasn't moving and my patience was waning....

So I honked.

And I immediately felt like a jerk.

You see the normal horn - even if it is lightly tapped - sounds so belligerent and demanding. Granted, I drive a pickup truck and so the horn is more pronounced than it would be in say, a Mini Cooper. Even so, the problem is that the same horn is used for the jerk that cuts you off, the person about to back into you, the person drifting into your lane, and the little lady ahead of you at the light who you just want to gently remind, "Green means go."

But the horn says it otherwise.

It's like the Seinfeld episode where Jerry's uncle Leo gets his eyebrows waxed but in a slanted fashion - from that point on anything the guy says, no matter how nicely, comes across like he's angry because he appears angry.

The horn, no matter what, always appears angry. Like you're shaking your fist and cursing under your breath when perhaps it's one of the few times you're not.

We, the people, need an alternative horn.

Keep the standard horn and its confrontational reputation for when we really need it but give us another horn that communicates, "Hey I'm not mad, just wanna remind you the light's green." Or for those times when you’re moving down your street and want to say hello to that neighbor always turned around watering the lawn. Instead of trying to tap the horn in some kind of rapid-fire sequence aimed at sounding cheerful but really causes your startled neighbor’s heart to palpitate, what about a greeting horn?

The question is what would such a horn sound like?

Perhaps a chime of some sort?

Woodwind?

Sinatra?

I tell you what, a little “Strangers in the Night” blaring across Commercial and A1A during gridlock would go a long way in this town...

Calling Timeout

February 20, 2009

Earlier this month somewhere around 97 million people were reported to have watched the Super Bowl – America’s unofficial holiday –in which the tradition-rich Pittsburgh Steelers defeated the feel-good-story Arizona Cardinals. Lauderdale-by-the-Sea residents and visitors contributed to the 97 million figure as televisions glowed from condo balconies and fans flocked to the great watch party stationed along the street between 101 Ocean and the Village Grill/Pump.

As my wife and I strolled the street that night, I was reminded that the cultural entity known as “sports” is really a fascinating thing. First, it is the great social equalizer. Our society places high value on personal space and ways to secure it such as privacy hedges and fenced in yards, and yet somehow a sporting event can entice people to pack into a plastic seat laden stadium like sardines. Beer-guzzling, face-painted sardines, but sardines nonetheless. Our society is still at times very fragmented demographically as people of one race, color, creed or income level only associate with others of the same, and yet somehow a sporting event entices people to look beyond skin color or job title and congregate together in a diverse mass to root their team on. In this way sports fans are color blind, well, at least blind to any color but the one on a team’s jersey!

The cultural entity known as sports also serves as the great conversation piece. What is a business man to do as he rides the elevator to the top floor of a skyscraper surrounded by people and awkward silence? Mention last night’s game – a score, statistic, or highlight-reel play – and it is amazing how the elevator ride will suddenly be too short to accommodate the conversation. The same is true if you are waiting for the bus, or a table at a restaurant, or if you’re sitting on one of those couches in the middle of the mall with the other men waiting for your wife to “finish” her shopping.

Perhaps most humorously though is the realization that the cultural entity known as sports is also at times the great contradiction. If ever one begins to think that we third-millennium earthlings living in post-modern America are at the height of human sophistication and social progress, go and attend a major sporting event. It is one of the last remaining slices of life not bound by normal, civilized behavior. The person in your office who has never been to work on time a day in their life and says little throughout the day is the same person who will turn up to the event four hours early painted from head to toe, wearing a giant foam hand and singing fight songs. Give said person a $13 plastic bottle of beer or two and they will soon be saying more during one quarter to the referee on the sideline than they have in two year’s worth of budget meetings. Some who have never shed tears even at a funeral will get glassy eyed at the mention of that overtime loss in the playoffs last year. Sure, men often get a bad rap for not being emotional or in-tune with their feelings but that’s in relation to things like wives, anniversaries and births; when it comes to two-point conversions and walk-off homeruns a sports fan can often be found embracing the shirtless stranger next to them and exclaiming their feelings in a way that would make Dr. Phil proud.

Further, all of the above is only what one finds in the seats surrounding the game; let’s not forget about what transpires within the games themselves. Sure, it might be inappropriate for your boss to tear off his blazer and throw it on the ground in frustration during the next staff meeting…but not in a game. If it gets to halftime and your coach is still wearing his blazer and hasn’t yet trampled on it like a tantrum-prone toddler you just witnessed history. Sure, others might perceive you as crazy and pompous if after closing the next sale you rip your tie from your shirt and throw it into the Accounts Receivable department as you pound your chest and raise a number one in the air…but not in a game. Make that little rubber ball go through that big net and of course you have the honor of tossing your head band in the stands and pounding your chest. Sure, your construction career might be short lived if only three out of every ten buildings you built didn’t collapse or as an attorney you only won three out of every ten cases…but again, not in a game. Average three hits for every ten times your at bat and you’ll have to set up an off-shore account just to contain all your money…

Hey, I am one of the 97 million who have never met a single player on either team, nor could ever dream of affording a ticket to the game, nor will ever see a fraction of what the players make and yet was glued to the screen as I am every year not just for the Super Bowl but every major championship.

However I think…I just need a time out.