"Just spent the day tracking a song, finished, then I realized it's one BPM too fast. Time to cut it again! Never quit til you're satisfied." - John Mayer (on Twitter)
... What? You thought his songs were naturally that smooth?
Because today's point was brief and I hate leaving Sprezz readers unfulfilled, here's a fun post from Auren Hoffman. You have to love the enthusiasm; although there are a few grammatical errors (hey, not everyone's lucky enough to have a Pilar D'Agnese).
(Copied & Pasted from Auren's website @ blog.summation.net):
Whenever I'm on a plane, I often wonder: who sat my seat before me.
Was it some dude about to do a business deal or a fall actress leaving her fourth husband or someone who just pulled himself out of poverty and flew for the first time?
Sometimes you get some clues. Like a boarding pass left behind in the seat pocket or a crumpled pretzel in the seat crevice. And of course, you can often determine the raw size of your prior seat-soul-mate by the seat belt adjustment when you arrive (one thing I've noticed is that big people are much more likely to be in the exit row).
After spending time thinking about who came before me, I started wondering who might occupy my seat after me. There are, of course, almost no clues ... especially when one doesn't know where the plane is headed next.
So ... I do what I am sure every curious jetsetter does, I leave short notes for my future seat-soul-mate. Of course, there is an art to leaving a note ... you need to fold it just right. And you need to disguise it just enough for the rapid cleaning crew to pass over it but you cannot make the note so inconspicuous that the next person will never find it.
I'll usually say something like:
Just wanted to let you know that the last person in this seat wishes you a great flight. He cleaned it thoroughly when leaving. Also -- if given a choice between peanuts and cookies, take the cookies. They are exquisite. Have a wonderful flight, Your prior-seat-soul-mate p.s. in case you are wondering, I do not have a cold or any contagious diseases
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Thursday, April 30, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Your Social GPS (How to Navigate!)
Jake Lentz & Paul Koehorst, who write for Jimmy Kimmel, have a new book coming out.
This is great news for Sprezz readers! It's basically a treasure chest filled with valuable information to help you out.
I heard them discussing it on Adam Corolla's podcast. As we all know, your interactions with peers and coworkers can result in various consequences. With this in mind, you don't want to come off as too antisocial around the office but yet sometimes it's better to just keep your distance.
For example, let's say you're stuck in an elevator with a peer and feel pressured to start a conversation. As a result, you throw out the ol' "So what are your plans for the weekend?".
Be aware that your innocent gesture can actually backfire! What if they ambush you with "Well, I'm doing a walkathon for XYZ... I'm actually looking for donations, would you mind? It's for a great cause!"?
This book will leave you feeling prepared to react smoothly... You know, with Sprezzatura.
Freebie: Instead of saying "Heyy whats going on this weekend?", take a different approach with a playful comment to lighten the mood. For example, "So where do I put the quarters in this thing?". Hopefully this eases the tension, buying you enough time to get home free!
I'm lucky. I work within a small group and happen to enjoy being around my coworkers. But this book's teachings are applicable for all kinds of unexpected situations.
Learn how to navigate any potentially awkward environment and escape traps like the one previously described (or having to chip in for your boss's daughter's girl scout cookies)!
There's No I in Office: 4293 Meaningless Phrases to Keep Your Coworkers Smiling While Avoiding Actual Conversation
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This is great news for Sprezz readers! It's basically a treasure chest filled with valuable information to help you out.
I heard them discussing it on Adam Corolla's podcast. As we all know, your interactions with peers and coworkers can result in various consequences. With this in mind, you don't want to come off as too antisocial around the office but yet sometimes it's better to just keep your distance.
For example, let's say you're stuck in an elevator with a peer and feel pressured to start a conversation. As a result, you throw out the ol' "So what are your plans for the weekend?".
Be aware that your innocent gesture can actually backfire! What if they ambush you with "Well, I'm doing a walkathon for XYZ... I'm actually looking for donations, would you mind? It's for a great cause!"?
This book will leave you feeling prepared to react smoothly... You know, with Sprezzatura.
Freebie: Instead of saying "Heyy whats going on this weekend?", take a different approach with a playful comment to lighten the mood. For example, "So where do I put the quarters in this thing?". Hopefully this eases the tension, buying you enough time to get home free!
I'm lucky. I work within a small group and happen to enjoy being around my coworkers. But this book's teachings are applicable for all kinds of unexpected situations.
Learn how to navigate any potentially awkward environment and escape traps like the one previously described (or having to chip in for your boss's daughter's girl scout cookies)!
There's No I in Office: 4293 Meaningless Phrases to Keep Your Coworkers Smiling While Avoiding Actual Conversation
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Monday, April 27, 2009
The Surprise Dessert
A few weeks ago, a group of my friends took me out for dinner to celebrate my birthday. It was a great time and we enjoyed catching up.
At the end of the meal, as we were about to ask for the check, our waitress (a Marcia Brady look-a-like) brought over an apple pie and ice cream dessert dish in honor of my big night. Apparently, my buddy Fink had slipped away during the meal and pulled the ol' fake bathroom trick. Sneaky bastard.
We were all stuffed beyond belief but the surprise dessert looked amazing. None of us were going to pass it up and I'll explain why:
As a diner, you are mentally prepared for any apps, entrees or desserts that you ordered. After all, you chose them.
The surprise factor, however, always changes the game. It carries a certain mystique. At that moment, the apple pie & ice cream dessert seemed like an added bonus... and who doesn't cash in their bonus?
Armed with our eating utensils, the 6 of us suddenly resembled a pack of hunters salivating over our prey. However, some hunters are more aggressive than others and my roommate Matt is a perfect example.
When we were apartment hunting and we finally (after a lot of searching) came across one that we liked, he yelled "we'll take it!" before the realtor had even ended her presentation. The rest of the onlookers didn't stand a chance. The man shows no mercy.
Fink (who sat next to Matt) was well aware of this. Consequently, the poor guy dove in for the dessert with the urgency of a fugitive escaping for his life!
Unfortunately, he couldn't handle the pressure and slipped up. The rest of us watched as a giant scoop of the ice cream flew through the air (as if in slow motion) and landed in my glass of wine! I don't even want to go into detail about how our once aesthetically perfect apple pie was mutilated.
Let's just say that when Marcia Brady returned to the table, her expression said it all. She looked like Brad Pitt in Se7en, after he had opened a package containing his wife's amputated head!
I understand where Fink was coming from and it's hard to blame him. However, in life, we are often forced to do battle with fierce competition and it's important to remain strategic and composed. That's Sprezzatura.
Otherwise, you'll just end up with a scoop of ice cream in your wine.
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At the end of the meal, as we were about to ask for the check, our waitress (a Marcia Brady look-a-like) brought over an apple pie and ice cream dessert dish in honor of my big night. Apparently, my buddy Fink had slipped away during the meal and pulled the ol' fake bathroom trick. Sneaky bastard.
We were all stuffed beyond belief but the surprise dessert looked amazing. None of us were going to pass it up and I'll explain why:
As a diner, you are mentally prepared for any apps, entrees or desserts that you ordered. After all, you chose them.
The surprise factor, however, always changes the game. It carries a certain mystique. At that moment, the apple pie & ice cream dessert seemed like an added bonus... and who doesn't cash in their bonus?
Armed with our eating utensils, the 6 of us suddenly resembled a pack of hunters salivating over our prey. However, some hunters are more aggressive than others and my roommate Matt is a perfect example.
When we were apartment hunting and we finally (after a lot of searching) came across one that we liked, he yelled "we'll take it!" before the realtor had even ended her presentation. The rest of the onlookers didn't stand a chance. The man shows no mercy.
Fink (who sat next to Matt) was well aware of this. Consequently, the poor guy dove in for the dessert with the urgency of a fugitive escaping for his life!
Unfortunately, he couldn't handle the pressure and slipped up. The rest of us watched as a giant scoop of the ice cream flew through the air (as if in slow motion) and landed in my glass of wine! I don't even want to go into detail about how our once aesthetically perfect apple pie was mutilated.
Let's just say that when Marcia Brady returned to the table, her expression said it all. She looked like Brad Pitt in Se7en, after he had opened a package containing his wife's amputated head!
I understand where Fink was coming from and it's hard to blame him. However, in life, we are often forced to do battle with fierce competition and it's important to remain strategic and composed. That's Sprezzatura.
Otherwise, you'll just end up with a scoop of ice cream in your wine.
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Friday, April 24, 2009
Smooth Criminals... They Are Not.
For your enjoyment, here's a funny article from Oddee:
10 Dumbest Criminals.
These cats definitely haven't acted with Sprezzatura but they unquestionably provide us with some great entertainment.
Enjoy your weekend and stay sprezzin'...
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10 Dumbest Criminals.
These cats definitely haven't acted with Sprezzatura but they unquestionably provide us with some great entertainment.
Enjoy your weekend and stay sprezzin'...
Don't miss out on new content!
Sign up for Sprezz and activate your confirmation email.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
The Ultimate 1-2 Punch
What I'm about to reveal is truly going to take you inside the inner world of Steve Rubin. I know that I usually promote spontaneity and switching up your habits. This is because I think it's so important to enjoy living in the moment and try out new experiences.
However, I have one area where I refuse to budge: My go-to-snack.
There are some people who enjoy nothing more than a bag of classic potato chips. Others like their cashews or trail mix. Then there's always the banana crowd, and of course you have those who opt for the way of the protein bar.
Yet, anybody who has ever worked with me knows my personal preference.
That's right, I'm referring to dark chocolate. But I’m not big on the bars, I only mess with the bags of the bite size chocolate that you can find at a CVS or Duane Reade.
Aside from the delicious ride for your taste buds, and the healthy antioxidants, the bite size chocolates offer a side benefit in playing the role of a litmus stress test.
It's effective in that I’ll typically savor the chocolates as long as possible. However, when I find myself getting stressed out, I'll unknowingly start popping in 4 or 5 at a time and plow through them like candy (errr, yea I know that chocolate is candy... just let it slide). Thankfully, my coworkers will usually bring this to my attention and I'll take it down a notch.
As you can see, the chocolates are golden.
In my day, I've come across only two worthy suppliers. There's Dove and there's Hershey's; two similar creatures but two totally different breeds.
Dove offers a larger, more fulfilling bite, whereas Hershey's compensates with a larger quantity of smaller chocolates in each bag.
My manager will argue to the death of him that Dove represents higher quality, that it's the top class and should thus be the only choice. I've often quarreled with him in favor of Hershey's, arguing that it offers a different, but equally satisfying taste.
It's only fair, however, to mention that each piece of the Dove chocolate's wrapping includes a message which is always fun to read and then throw at coworkers... So, there's also that to consider.
Still, Hershey's unique style complements Dove's nicely, and the two work hand in hand in providing the perfect 1-2 punch. I don't know what I'd do without my dark chocolates. People always complain that it's the little things that kill. Well, in this case, I'd beg to differ.
Anyone with Sprezzatura enjoys life and looks forward to their lil' pick-me-up.
... What's your 1-2 Punch?
However, I have one area where I refuse to budge: My go-to-snack.
There are some people who enjoy nothing more than a bag of classic potato chips. Others like their cashews or trail mix. Then there's always the banana crowd, and of course you have those who opt for the way of the protein bar.
Yet, anybody who has ever worked with me knows my personal preference.
That's right, I'm referring to dark chocolate. But I’m not big on the bars, I only mess with the bags of the bite size chocolate that you can find at a CVS or Duane Reade.
Aside from the delicious ride for your taste buds, and the healthy antioxidants, the bite size chocolates offer a side benefit in playing the role of a litmus stress test.
It's effective in that I’ll typically savor the chocolates as long as possible. However, when I find myself getting stressed out, I'll unknowingly start popping in 4 or 5 at a time and plow through them like candy (errr, yea I know that chocolate is candy... just let it slide). Thankfully, my coworkers will usually bring this to my attention and I'll take it down a notch.
As you can see, the chocolates are golden.
In my day, I've come across only two worthy suppliers. There's Dove and there's Hershey's; two similar creatures but two totally different breeds.
Dove offers a larger, more fulfilling bite, whereas Hershey's compensates with a larger quantity of smaller chocolates in each bag.
My manager will argue to the death of him that Dove represents higher quality, that it's the top class and should thus be the only choice. I've often quarreled with him in favor of Hershey's, arguing that it offers a different, but equally satisfying taste.
It's only fair, however, to mention that each piece of the Dove chocolate's wrapping includes a message which is always fun to read and then throw at coworkers... So, there's also that to consider.
Still, Hershey's unique style complements Dove's nicely, and the two work hand in hand in providing the perfect 1-2 punch. I don't know what I'd do without my dark chocolates. People always complain that it's the little things that kill. Well, in this case, I'd beg to differ.
Anyone with Sprezzatura enjoys life and looks forward to their lil' pick-me-up.
... What's your 1-2 Punch?
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
When It All Falls Down...
“Some days wouldn’t be special, if it weren’t for rain.” – 50 Cent
True words of wisdom. Just the other day, as it was getting dark out, I found myself smack dab in the middle of a torrential downpour. It was the crazy kind, where the wind is blowing so hard that your umbrella gets blasted inside out.
As I proceeded to drudge on towards my apartment from the subway, the weather was freezing and my bag (carrying a few precious belongings) was rapidly becoming more and more flooded. Even my pants were soaked and stuck to my legs.
Then of course, there were the wet toes. I hate the wet toes. You know, when your socks get soaked. That’s the last straw. It’s the ultimate discomfort.
Do you ever feel like your life's surrounding forces are representative of that type of rainstorm? Especially in the midst of a recession, there’s so much negative energy that it’s easy to let it catch up with you. You can find yourself bogged down in an endless amount of worrying and stress.
Well finally, I reached my breaking point and flat out stopped caring. I just turned up my iPod and laughed at how badly I was getting my ass kicked.
What a relieving feeling!
We all have those days where you’re just going to “get soaked” and there’s nothing that you can do about it. The only choice you have is to either sulk in the misery, or face (and enjoy) the music and smile.
Just remember, you’ll live… And it only makes the sunny days that much more special.
True words of wisdom. Just the other day, as it was getting dark out, I found myself smack dab in the middle of a torrential downpour. It was the crazy kind, where the wind is blowing so hard that your umbrella gets blasted inside out.
As I proceeded to drudge on towards my apartment from the subway, the weather was freezing and my bag (carrying a few precious belongings) was rapidly becoming more and more flooded. Even my pants were soaked and stuck to my legs.
Then of course, there were the wet toes. I hate the wet toes. You know, when your socks get soaked. That’s the last straw. It’s the ultimate discomfort.
Do you ever feel like your life's surrounding forces are representative of that type of rainstorm? Especially in the midst of a recession, there’s so much negative energy that it’s easy to let it catch up with you. You can find yourself bogged down in an endless amount of worrying and stress.
Well finally, I reached my breaking point and flat out stopped caring. I just turned up my iPod and laughed at how badly I was getting my ass kicked.
What a relieving feeling!
We all have those days where you’re just going to “get soaked” and there’s nothing that you can do about it. The only choice you have is to either sulk in the misery, or face (and enjoy) the music and smile.
Just remember, you’ll live… And it only makes the sunny days that much more special.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Don't Peak Too Soon!
For a young, Jewish man, a Bar Mitzvah is an extremely important occasion. Most people associate the day with the party, but the service (which takes place beforehand) is what I'll personally never forget.
Throughout the whole process, you're under the spotlight. It's unbelievably stressful, especially at such a young age.
I tried my best to remain composed and at first everything was going smoothly. Then came the haftorah, a long drawn out solo that you're supposed to perform in front of an entire temple consisting of your peers, friends and family.
This was it, the big moment. I remember thinking, "Lets just get through this and go party".
Only as I began singing, I realized that because I was so nervous, my pitch had started off WAY too high! I was still right at the beginning, far from the song's peak and already sounded like a freakin' 8 year old girl!
Sure, I can laugh about it now but it wasn't funny at the time. It's difficult to describe JUST how embarrassed I was but I'll try...
Do you know the moment right after you've reached final ascent on a roller coaster?
At this point, you're just looking down, like "Uh oh, this can't be good..." Then your stomach clenches, you begin sweating, and your mind is racing as you picture a million different ways of how you're not only going to end up making the top story on the nightly news but how you'll also be the guy that people refer to as they innocently bring up with their friends, "Hey did you hear that somebody fell out of that thing (the roller coaster) a few years back?"
That's how I felt as I came to this scary, almost paralyzing conclusion.
What ensued next was the ultimate humiliating experience. My voice reached such high notes that in comparison would make Mariah Carey sound like James Earl Jones. I was prepared for glass to shatter at any moment.
My mistake was loud (literally) and clear. I hadn't thought my plan through to completion. I figured that I'd just kind of wing it once the moment arrived.
Anyone with Sprezzatura prepares for these type of moments. They've played out exactly what's gonna go down in their mind from start to finish. Then when game time comes around it seems like a piece of cake.
Don't be the guy that peaks too soon...
Throughout the whole process, you're under the spotlight. It's unbelievably stressful, especially at such a young age.
I tried my best to remain composed and at first everything was going smoothly. Then came the haftorah, a long drawn out solo that you're supposed to perform in front of an entire temple consisting of your peers, friends and family.
This was it, the big moment. I remember thinking, "Lets just get through this and go party".
Only as I began singing, I realized that because I was so nervous, my pitch had started off WAY too high! I was still right at the beginning, far from the song's peak and already sounded like a freakin' 8 year old girl!
Sure, I can laugh about it now but it wasn't funny at the time. It's difficult to describe JUST how embarrassed I was but I'll try...
Do you know the moment right after you've reached final ascent on a roller coaster?
At this point, you're just looking down, like "Uh oh, this can't be good..." Then your stomach clenches, you begin sweating, and your mind is racing as you picture a million different ways of how you're not only going to end up making the top story on the nightly news but how you'll also be the guy that people refer to as they innocently bring up with their friends, "Hey did you hear that somebody fell out of that thing (the roller coaster) a few years back?"
That's how I felt as I came to this scary, almost paralyzing conclusion.
What ensued next was the ultimate humiliating experience. My voice reached such high notes that in comparison would make Mariah Carey sound like James Earl Jones. I was prepared for glass to shatter at any moment.
My mistake was loud (literally) and clear. I hadn't thought my plan through to completion. I figured that I'd just kind of wing it once the moment arrived.
Anyone with Sprezzatura prepares for these type of moments. They've played out exactly what's gonna go down in their mind from start to finish. Then when game time comes around it seems like a piece of cake.
Don't be the guy that peaks too soon...
Monday, April 20, 2009
He Totally Rose To The Occasion
I know what you're thinking. This guy Steve Rubin, he throws handbooks at me, dating questions & answers, references to snowballs, v-neck shirts, he even shares stories about ostrich burgers and prune hamantashen! What is he going to come up with next?
Well once again, I'm going to switch it up on you. Today has nothing to do with me.
It's about a young man who is only 20 years old and leads a lifestyle to which you or I couldn't possibly relate.
Think for a second. Do you remember what YOUR life was like at the tender age of 20?
I was reminded this past Saturday afternoon. New York was blessed with sunshine and 70 degree weather and I spent the day laying out at the park while relaxing outside with a few beers. It was great, I felt like I didn't have a care in the world... like I had no responsibilities.
It felt exactly like I was 20 years old again.
But this young man's life is exceptional. He certainly felt the heat this weekend, only it wasn't from the sun.
That's right, this Saturday afternoon, Derrick Rose spent his day fighting to the death against men nearly twice his age. He plays the pivotal position of point guard for the Chicago Bulls. This means that EVERY play revolves around his decisions. He's the quarterback. Rose is also one of the youngest and least experienced members on the team that he leads.
Even as a rookie, he is expected to make shit happen (Excuse the language but "make stuff happen" just doesn't pack the same punch).
If you've ever watched He Got Game by Spike Lee, then you've seen another NBA player, Ray Allen, and his incredible acting performance (I may be exaggerating his acting ability because he's one of my favorite athletes).
Anyway, while I might watch Ray on TV and am generally starstruck by his incredible talent, Derrick Rose had the task of competing against him Saturday in front of a nationally televised, sold out and extremely hostile Boston arena.
Again, Rose is 20 years old...
Was he the least bit phased? Please... Ain't no thing for my man Derrick Rose.
(Random tidbit - there's an episode of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air where Uncle Phil randomly adopts a British accent whenever he speaks to an English person. I think I just realized that I do the equivalent when discussing Hip Hop and basketball.)
The results speak for themselves. Typically the FIRST playoff game for an athlete (especially a rookie) is a terrifying experience, filled with lessons to be learned. Rose, however, threw the weight on his shoulders and secured the upset victory for his team. He was cool, calm and collected the entire way, while playing out of his mind.
It was nuts! It was "Greatness". It was Sprezzatura.
Take a lesson from D Rose and go make shit happen... By any means necessary!
Well once again, I'm going to switch it up on you. Today has nothing to do with me.
It's about a young man who is only 20 years old and leads a lifestyle to which you or I couldn't possibly relate.
Think for a second. Do you remember what YOUR life was like at the tender age of 20?
I was reminded this past Saturday afternoon. New York was blessed with sunshine and 70 degree weather and I spent the day laying out at the park while relaxing outside with a few beers. It was great, I felt like I didn't have a care in the world... like I had no responsibilities.
It felt exactly like I was 20 years old again.
But this young man's life is exceptional. He certainly felt the heat this weekend, only it wasn't from the sun.
That's right, this Saturday afternoon, Derrick Rose spent his day fighting to the death against men nearly twice his age. He plays the pivotal position of point guard for the Chicago Bulls. This means that EVERY play revolves around his decisions. He's the quarterback. Rose is also one of the youngest and least experienced members on the team that he leads.
Even as a rookie, he is expected to make shit happen (Excuse the language but "make stuff happen" just doesn't pack the same punch).
If you've ever watched He Got Game by Spike Lee, then you've seen another NBA player, Ray Allen, and his incredible acting performance (I may be exaggerating his acting ability because he's one of my favorite athletes).
Anyway, while I might watch Ray on TV and am generally starstruck by his incredible talent, Derrick Rose had the task of competing against him Saturday in front of a nationally televised, sold out and extremely hostile Boston arena.
Again, Rose is 20 years old...
Was he the least bit phased? Please... Ain't no thing for my man Derrick Rose.
(Random tidbit - there's an episode of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air where Uncle Phil randomly adopts a British accent whenever he speaks to an English person. I think I just realized that I do the equivalent when discussing Hip Hop and basketball.)
The results speak for themselves. Typically the FIRST playoff game for an athlete (especially a rookie) is a terrifying experience, filled with lessons to be learned. Rose, however, threw the weight on his shoulders and secured the upset victory for his team. He was cool, calm and collected the entire way, while playing out of his mind.
It was nuts! It was "Greatness". It was Sprezzatura.
Take a lesson from D Rose and go make shit happen... By any means necessary!
Friday, April 17, 2009
Introducing...The Sprezzatura Handbook!
If you're reading this post, then you're conscious of the Art of Sprezzatura.
But while you're out there developing your aura and fine tuning your sophistication, surely you've witnessed some peers that just don't 'get it'.
Well today, we take action.
Someone recently suggested that we should break down the codes of conduct. Think of the rulebook in Wedding Crashers.
We'll keep a running list and work together to make it as thorough as possible. Send your suggestions to sprezzcentral@gmail.com ( feedback@sprezzcentral.com is experiencing technical difficulties).
Here are a quick 3 from Pilar (Editor in Chief) and I:
1. When you're out with friends DO NOT pick up your blackberry and start sorting through e-mails. It's rude to your guests and annoying as hell. Stay present!
2. If you're part of a couple and out with a single friend, MINIMIZE the PDA (public displays of affection). You have NO idea how awkward it can be for the other party. Make sure that they are comfortable so that EVERYONE has fun.
3. Don't be the "One-upper". If I just told you a story about an accomplishment, just acknowledge it and be happy for me. I REALLY don't care about your 'superior' story. It actually pisses me off that you can't enjoy my moment with me!
Keep these in mind over the weekend and send over your own suggestions!
... Stay sprezzin'
But while you're out there developing your aura and fine tuning your sophistication, surely you've witnessed some peers that just don't 'get it'.
Well today, we take action.
Someone recently suggested that we should break down the codes of conduct. Think of the rulebook in Wedding Crashers.
We'll keep a running list and work together to make it as thorough as possible. Send your suggestions to sprezzcentral@gmail.com ( feedback@sprezzcentral.com is experiencing technical difficulties).
Here are a quick 3 from Pilar (Editor in Chief) and I:
1. When you're out with friends DO NOT pick up your blackberry and start sorting through e-mails. It's rude to your guests and annoying as hell. Stay present!
2. If you're part of a couple and out with a single friend, MINIMIZE the PDA (public displays of affection). You have NO idea how awkward it can be for the other party. Make sure that they are comfortable so that EVERYONE has fun.
3. Don't be the "One-upper". If I just told you a story about an accomplishment, just acknowledge it and be happy for me. I REALLY don't care about your 'superior' story. It actually pisses me off that you can't enjoy my moment with me!
Keep these in mind over the weekend and send over your own suggestions!
... Stay sprezzin'
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Pick it up, Pick it up...
A few weeks ago, I was on the train when I remembered that I wanted to ask my friend Jenna for a quick favor.
It was a two second thing... Ok, the truth is that I really wanted her to send me a funny picture from over the weekend. But instead of texting or BBMing, I gave her a buzz.
Steve: Hey what's up Jenna
Jenna: Hey there
Jenna: Are you calling to remind me to send that picture you were laughing about?
Steve: The picture? Oh yeaa... Totally forgot about that. No, actually I just wanted to say Hi. But you know what, before I forget, yea maybe just send that over...
(HA!)
Anyway, we ended up having a nice little chat that completely boosted my mood for the rest of the day.
Don't cheat yourself out of the joy of the more genuine connection by always BBM/texting/e-mailing.
... Show a lil' sprezz and pick up the phone!
It was a two second thing... Ok, the truth is that I really wanted her to send me a funny picture from over the weekend. But instead of texting or BBMing, I gave her a buzz.
Steve: Hey what's up Jenna
Jenna: Hey there
Jenna: Are you calling to remind me to send that picture you were laughing about?
Steve: The picture? Oh yeaa... Totally forgot about that. No, actually I just wanted to say Hi. But you know what, before I forget, yea maybe just send that over...
(HA!)
Anyway, we ended up having a nice little chat that completely boosted my mood for the rest of the day.
Don't cheat yourself out of the joy of the more genuine connection by always BBM/texting/e-mailing.
... Show a lil' sprezz and pick up the phone!
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Breaking Down The Gift...
(Note: This is part 2 of today's double header.)
Today is Philanthropy Day, which revolves around giving to others. Well, what makes a great gift?
For some people it’s materialistic value.
For others, it’s the thoughtfulness that counts.
The best gifts tend to stay with you one way or another. Buy someone a great dinner and they’ll appreciate it. They may even have a nice memory, but generally people move on and forget about the gesture in a week or so.
Clothes and jewelry are always nice because anytime the person wears something they’ll think of you.
I happen to love sharing music. It has the side benefit of emotional impact. If you introduce a new band to someone that hits them just right they’ll always think of you in a positive way whenever they listen.
Right now, there are about 100-150 of you tuning in each day.
If you enjoy these articles, whether because they entertain or inspire you, then you should share them with a few people; anyone who would also get a kick out of them (friends, family, coworkers, etc).
I'll obviously appreciate the support, and if your referrals take as much pleasure in the art of Sprezzatura as you do, then not only will they have a new daily routine to appreciate, but they’ll also associate good feelings with YOU every time that they read a post they like.
Here are a few popular posts to help you out.
No More V-Neck Shirts!
The Ostrich Burger Story
Case Of The Prune Hamantashen
Also, here are a few Dating Posts with Dr. Bob
The Power Of The Pizza Test: Part II
The Call
Also, if you have any Sprezzatura stories of your own, send them to sprezzcentral@gmail.com (feedback@sprezzcentral.com is experience technical difficulties) and we'll post them up.
Today is Philanthropy Day, which revolves around giving to others. Well, what makes a great gift?
For some people it’s materialistic value.
For others, it’s the thoughtfulness that counts.
The best gifts tend to stay with you one way or another. Buy someone a great dinner and they’ll appreciate it. They may even have a nice memory, but generally people move on and forget about the gesture in a week or so.
Clothes and jewelry are always nice because anytime the person wears something they’ll think of you.
I happen to love sharing music. It has the side benefit of emotional impact. If you introduce a new band to someone that hits them just right they’ll always think of you in a positive way whenever they listen.
Right now, there are about 100-150 of you tuning in each day.
If you enjoy these articles, whether because they entertain or inspire you, then you should share them with a few people; anyone who would also get a kick out of them (friends, family, coworkers, etc).
I'll obviously appreciate the support, and if your referrals take as much pleasure in the art of Sprezzatura as you do, then not only will they have a new daily routine to appreciate, but they’ll also associate good feelings with YOU every time that they read a post they like.
Here are a few popular posts to help you out.
No More V-Neck Shirts!
The Ostrich Burger Story
Case Of The Prune Hamantashen
Also, here are a few Dating Posts with Dr. Bob
The Power Of The Pizza Test: Part II
The Call
Also, if you have any Sprezzatura stories of your own, send them to sprezzcentral@gmail.com (feedback@sprezzcentral.com is experience technical difficulties) and we'll post them up.
Thanks For Being So Clutch!
(Note: This is Part 1 of today's Double Header. Happy Philanthropy Day.)
I had lunch with my buddy Zander the other day. He’s a huge Mets fan with season tickets and everything. Personally, I enjoy attending a few games here and there each season, but generally have a more casual interest in the sport.
Still, during our meal, we discussed our thoughts regarding the team. We brought up which players we liked, what we thought about their potential, and all of that good stuff. The more that we chatted, the more excited I became for the home opener that night.
Watching the game, I soon remembered what is so great about baseball. Despite the constant steroid accusations and the game’s painfully slow pace, it still has the one element that I love most.
The opportunity for clutch performance.
At one point, the Mets were down 3 runs. There were 2 outs and 2 men on base with their star, David Wright, up to bat.
If you’re unfamiliar with the sport, David was in prime position to bring his team back into the game. However, if he failed, all of their hard work that inning would have gone unrecognized and they would still be behind.
The pitcher and Wright squared off. It was competition in the purest form.
Then, almost as if in slow motion, it happened.
In front of a sold out stadium of fans, all begging to witness greatness, Wright CRUSHED the ball out of the park!
Zander, who was at the game, explained that the energy throughout the stadium was unreal. Everyone’s adrenaline was overflowing as they jumped up and down, screaming their faces off! For one amazing moment, there was nothing but joyous celebration.
The Mets would lose the game but something has to be said about Wright’s coming through in the clutch. He still gave people “that” moment. He caused me to clap and scream at my TV. My friend Matt immediately texted me “that was so sprezz.”
I couldn't agree more myself.
I had lunch with my buddy Zander the other day. He’s a huge Mets fan with season tickets and everything. Personally, I enjoy attending a few games here and there each season, but generally have a more casual interest in the sport.
Still, during our meal, we discussed our thoughts regarding the team. We brought up which players we liked, what we thought about their potential, and all of that good stuff. The more that we chatted, the more excited I became for the home opener that night.
Watching the game, I soon remembered what is so great about baseball. Despite the constant steroid accusations and the game’s painfully slow pace, it still has the one element that I love most.
The opportunity for clutch performance.
At one point, the Mets were down 3 runs. There were 2 outs and 2 men on base with their star, David Wright, up to bat.
If you’re unfamiliar with the sport, David was in prime position to bring his team back into the game. However, if he failed, all of their hard work that inning would have gone unrecognized and they would still be behind.
The pitcher and Wright squared off. It was competition in the purest form.
Then, almost as if in slow motion, it happened.
In front of a sold out stadium of fans, all begging to witness greatness, Wright CRUSHED the ball out of the park!
Zander, who was at the game, explained that the energy throughout the stadium was unreal. Everyone’s adrenaline was overflowing as they jumped up and down, screaming their faces off! For one amazing moment, there was nothing but joyous celebration.
The Mets would lose the game but something has to be said about Wright’s coming through in the clutch. He still gave people “that” moment. He caused me to clap and scream at my TV. My friend Matt immediately texted me “that was so sprezz.”
I couldn't agree more myself.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Hey Kid, Watch Your Mouth!
The new guy.
It’s a tough role to play. Some people love it and others hate it. I’ve certainly had my fair share of experiences.
When I was younger, my parents decided to move into a new school district... right before high school. That was interesting.
Then one summer I decided to head solo to Penn State for a summer study program.
Another summer I worked at a sleep away camp as a counselor and I was the only one there who had never attended the camp.
Then there was college. I was the new guy yet again during my first year at The University of Maryland. I didn’t enter with any intentions of joining a fraternity (especially during the first semester) but my friends were all making the move and so I decided to investigate.
Rush (the process where you explore the different groups) was fantastic. You’re basically wined and dined. If you can picture what heaven appears like to a young man in college (or actually ANY man) this was it: endless supplies of partying, women, interesting and diverse people… the works.
One night the frat organized a poker tournament. It was hard-fought and I ended up taking it down. One of the brothers, who went by the name ‘Binky’, cheered me on along the way. He didn’t do much but still, I was the new guy who had just won some money (nothing crazy) and I felt that it was right to reward his support.
Before I proceed, I should explain the logic behind the actions that I'm about to describe. Back in the day, I held a part-time job at Staples to earn spending money. I worked in the uber-cool business machines section, quite superior to the losers over in the stationary department.
Anyway, one day I was helping a lady carry a scanner out to her car. She wanted to thank me but only had a single dollar bill on her. She turned to me like, “ehh sorry, this is all that I have, go buy yourself a soda or something?” Her tone implied that she was sincerely trying to be nice rather than condescending. For whatever reason, this event stuck in my mind.
Going back to the poker game, I had just taken down the tournament. All eyes were on me and I wanted to show some support to my offensive line, Binky, in this case.
Don’t ask me WHAT I was thinking, but somehow I traced back to the previously described memory. In front of EVERYONE, I directed my attention to Binky, handed him a dollar, and suggested, “Hey thanks a lot pal, why don’t you go buy yourself a soda.”
Only everyone watching had mistakenly interpreted my gesture as some cocky punk implying, “Now see here, squirt, out of my way... Here’s a dollar, go take hike.”
... And that was the end of me. Next thing I know the room was FLOODED with “OHHHHHs!!!” like I had just bitch slapped the kid in front of a sold out Madison Square Garden.
That's right, I totally bottled the bag!
Interestingly enough, I would end up to joining the fraternity (yea SAM). You can imagine how enjoyable the pledging process was for me after such a wonderful first impression.
Always consider your audience, and if you’re going to share a reference with others then make sure that it will be understood correctly. That’s Sprezzatura.
It’s a tough role to play. Some people love it and others hate it. I’ve certainly had my fair share of experiences.
When I was younger, my parents decided to move into a new school district... right before high school. That was interesting.
Then one summer I decided to head solo to Penn State for a summer study program.
Another summer I worked at a sleep away camp as a counselor and I was the only one there who had never attended the camp.
Then there was college. I was the new guy yet again during my first year at The University of Maryland. I didn’t enter with any intentions of joining a fraternity (especially during the first semester) but my friends were all making the move and so I decided to investigate.
Rush (the process where you explore the different groups) was fantastic. You’re basically wined and dined. If you can picture what heaven appears like to a young man in college (or actually ANY man) this was it: endless supplies of partying, women, interesting and diverse people… the works.
One night the frat organized a poker tournament. It was hard-fought and I ended up taking it down. One of the brothers, who went by the name ‘Binky’, cheered me on along the way. He didn’t do much but still, I was the new guy who had just won some money (nothing crazy) and I felt that it was right to reward his support.
Before I proceed, I should explain the logic behind the actions that I'm about to describe. Back in the day, I held a part-time job at Staples to earn spending money. I worked in the uber-cool business machines section, quite superior to the losers over in the stationary department.
Anyway, one day I was helping a lady carry a scanner out to her car. She wanted to thank me but only had a single dollar bill on her. She turned to me like, “ehh sorry, this is all that I have, go buy yourself a soda or something?” Her tone implied that she was sincerely trying to be nice rather than condescending. For whatever reason, this event stuck in my mind.
Going back to the poker game, I had just taken down the tournament. All eyes were on me and I wanted to show some support to my offensive line, Binky, in this case.
Don’t ask me WHAT I was thinking, but somehow I traced back to the previously described memory. In front of EVERYONE, I directed my attention to Binky, handed him a dollar, and suggested, “Hey thanks a lot pal, why don’t you go buy yourself a soda.”
Only everyone watching had mistakenly interpreted my gesture as some cocky punk implying, “Now see here, squirt, out of my way... Here’s a dollar, go take hike.”
... And that was the end of me. Next thing I know the room was FLOODED with “OHHHHHs!!!” like I had just bitch slapped the kid in front of a sold out Madison Square Garden.
That's right, I totally bottled the bag!
Interestingly enough, I would end up to joining the fraternity (yea SAM). You can imagine how enjoyable the pledging process was for me after such a wonderful first impression.
Always consider your audience, and if you’re going to share a reference with others then make sure that it will be understood correctly. That’s Sprezzatura.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Get Set!
Put all your judgments aside regarding today's post. Yes, what I'm about to tell you should be common sense. I understand that, but do you know what?
People tend to not take enough advantage out of useful ideas that revolve around the obvious. You'll be much better off going forward with an open mind, contently aware that while you're reading, YOU can benefit by letting today's point sink in...
Do you see what I just did? I set the tone.
That's right, the tone. Tone is VERY important. It plays a monumental role in every interaction- business, personal relationships, random situations... etc.
Tone has long lasting effects and whether you like it or not, it's dictated right from the start. If you don't set it, one way or another, it will be set FOR you.
Plenty of times, either out of forgetfulness or laziness, I've neglected to set the tone, and usually end up regretting my decision. On the other hand, when you set out with clear expectations and work to see them carried out, you'll almost always get more accomplished.
Plus, the process is usually much more enjoyable for you.
Sure, in certain situations you may be too late to the draw or you're a guest at the party. Other times you may even prefer the spontaneity of submitting to life. After all, you can learn from observing other tone setters.
But if you like feeling in control, you had better set the tone in the beginning. Today is Monday. It's a brand new week.
Why not kick it off the right way?
People tend to not take enough advantage out of useful ideas that revolve around the obvious. You'll be much better off going forward with an open mind, contently aware that while you're reading, YOU can benefit by letting today's point sink in...
Do you see what I just did? I set the tone.
That's right, the tone. Tone is VERY important. It plays a monumental role in every interaction- business, personal relationships, random situations... etc.
Tone has long lasting effects and whether you like it or not, it's dictated right from the start. If you don't set it, one way or another, it will be set FOR you.
Plenty of times, either out of forgetfulness or laziness, I've neglected to set the tone, and usually end up regretting my decision. On the other hand, when you set out with clear expectations and work to see them carried out, you'll almost always get more accomplished.
Plus, the process is usually much more enjoyable for you.
Sure, in certain situations you may be too late to the draw or you're a guest at the party. Other times you may even prefer the spontaneity of submitting to life. After all, you can learn from observing other tone setters.
But if you like feeling in control, you had better set the tone in the beginning. Today is Monday. It's a brand new week.
Why not kick it off the right way?
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Race Against A Snowball!
For the purposes of this post, I should clarify the term Snowball. If you're new to Sprezzatura Central, click on the link to get caught up. Basically, a snowball is someone with the physique of a meatball, ya know, "big boned" (although I'm not sure if you can really refer to a meatball as big boned).
Anyway, it was a late Wednesday night. After a long and successful day at the office, I wanted to get the blood flowing and so I hit the gym.
I was feeling cardio, and hopped on the only vacant treadmill.
Now, ideally, I'd prefer being situated next to a show-stopping blonde in her mid-twenties. There's nothing like the presence of a dime (10 out of 10 on the looks scale, baby!) to keep you motivated. You know what I'm talking about.
Well, on this night, I found my treadmill neighbor to be a snowball who had to have been pushing 50 based on her wardrobe. Picture an over-sized version of Jane Fonda.
Whatever, I started my jog and gave life to my faithful companion (my iPod). Typically, I'll run for about 30 minutes. On this night, however, I was letting loose and already pushing an hour. The rest of the crowd began to vanish and before I knew it, only the snowball next to me remained.
Have you ever been on a subway (and if not, then just picture it) and someone EXTREMELY attractive sits across from you. They're so good looking that you feel the urge to take action but there's enough people around to make conversation seem out of the question. As a result, you both just kind of SIT there, feeling like you're under a spot light.
In a slightly different sense, that's how I felt. It was JUST myself and the snowball in the room, so it's hard not to acknowledge the other person's existence. Still, we kept to our own worlds and continued running for about another 20 minutes.
I was starting to fatigue and then it happened.
The snowball gave me a look!
Basically, her body language implied "Getting tired already? Wimp..."
Now THIS I would not stand for. I kept going and may have even taken things too far. I let her know that I meant business, giving the look from Meet the Parents. (The one in the racing scene where DeNiro points to his eyes, then to Ben Stiller, and then to the traffic light, implying he would smoke him).
The snowball rolled her eyes, like "Let's go buddy, make my day."
Always with an ace up my sleeve, I then resorted to my secret weapon. That's right, it was time for Stronger by Kanye West, my power song. I didn't come to play!
From there, it was as though a force had taken over me and I was pushing forth with motivation that would have left Forrest Gump jealous. The sweat was pouring and my water bottle had long since been depleted.
Meanwhile, the snowball was like the freakin' energizer bunny! She was still going strong and even appeared to be picking up the pace.
Another hour went by until finally I could take no more. I had to call it quits, I couldn't feel my legs!
But walk off and admit defeat? Never! Instead, I gave a frustrated look and verbalized "Oh no, I forgot!" Who knows what I forgot, I'm still not sure that she bought it.
Regardless, in all of my life, I have never witnessed the persistence exhibited by the snowball that night. It only goes to show that if you work hard enough, anything is possible. Or it shows that I got beat in a treadmill race by a girl.
Let's stick with the former.
Anyway, it was a late Wednesday night. After a long and successful day at the office, I wanted to get the blood flowing and so I hit the gym.
I was feeling cardio, and hopped on the only vacant treadmill.
Now, ideally, I'd prefer being situated next to a show-stopping blonde in her mid-twenties. There's nothing like the presence of a dime (10 out of 10 on the looks scale, baby!) to keep you motivated. You know what I'm talking about.
Well, on this night, I found my treadmill neighbor to be a snowball who had to have been pushing 50 based on her wardrobe. Picture an over-sized version of Jane Fonda.
Whatever, I started my jog and gave life to my faithful companion (my iPod). Typically, I'll run for about 30 minutes. On this night, however, I was letting loose and already pushing an hour. The rest of the crowd began to vanish and before I knew it, only the snowball next to me remained.
Have you ever been on a subway (and if not, then just picture it) and someone EXTREMELY attractive sits across from you. They're so good looking that you feel the urge to take action but there's enough people around to make conversation seem out of the question. As a result, you both just kind of SIT there, feeling like you're under a spot light.
In a slightly different sense, that's how I felt. It was JUST myself and the snowball in the room, so it's hard not to acknowledge the other person's existence. Still, we kept to our own worlds and continued running for about another 20 minutes.
I was starting to fatigue and then it happened.
The snowball gave me a look!
Basically, her body language implied "Getting tired already? Wimp..."
Now THIS I would not stand for. I kept going and may have even taken things too far. I let her know that I meant business, giving the look from Meet the Parents. (The one in the racing scene where DeNiro points to his eyes, then to Ben Stiller, and then to the traffic light, implying he would smoke him).
The snowball rolled her eyes, like "Let's go buddy, make my day."
Always with an ace up my sleeve, I then resorted to my secret weapon. That's right, it was time for Stronger by Kanye West, my power song. I didn't come to play!
From there, it was as though a force had taken over me and I was pushing forth with motivation that would have left Forrest Gump jealous. The sweat was pouring and my water bottle had long since been depleted.
Meanwhile, the snowball was like the freakin' energizer bunny! She was still going strong and even appeared to be picking up the pace.
Another hour went by until finally I could take no more. I had to call it quits, I couldn't feel my legs!
But walk off and admit defeat? Never! Instead, I gave a frustrated look and verbalized "Oh no, I forgot!" Who knows what I forgot, I'm still not sure that she bought it.
Regardless, in all of my life, I have never witnessed the persistence exhibited by the snowball that night. It only goes to show that if you work hard enough, anything is possible. Or it shows that I got beat in a treadmill race by a girl.
Let's stick with the former.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
The 'Better' Effect!
During my recent road trip with my friend Mark, we came to a major conclusion.
We decided that playing 'Trance/Progressive' music enhanced almost EVERY experience.
For example, nothing was more exciting than cruising around at night to the background music.
Even pulling out of a McDonald's parking lot first thing in the morning felt like a scene from a movie, as if something CRAZY could take place at any moment!
What a cool concept. There's nothing like an enhancer.
It's whole purpose is to make something BETTER!
... How can YOUR presence enhance those around you today?
(Remember, today is Philanthropy Day.)
We decided that playing 'Trance/Progressive' music enhanced almost EVERY experience.
For example, nothing was more exciting than cruising around at night to the background music.
Even pulling out of a McDonald's parking lot first thing in the morning felt like a scene from a movie, as if something CRAZY could take place at any moment!
What a cool concept. There's nothing like an enhancer.
It's whole purpose is to make something BETTER!
... How can YOUR presence enhance those around you today?
(Remember, today is Philanthropy Day.)
The Myth of Ms. Martel
I recently met my old coworkers John, Danielle and Catherine for drinks. It had been awhile since we had last gotten together and it was great to catch up.
Naturally, we began discussing old memories and the conversation turned a little gossipy. That just tends to happen when you're reminiscing. You're curious about what happened with so and so, and it seems like the right time to share never before revealed stories.
They say that a drunken man's words are a sober man's thoughts. Well I hate to admit it, but some of our words were less than admirable regarding a few of our old colleagues. In this competitive, dog-eat-dog world it's just so easy to get under peoples' skin.
Then our friend Ms. Martel's name was brought up.
There was no scandalous gossip.
There were no digs.
Instead, all we could talk about was how much we missed our friend who has since moved out of the city.
It was agreed that Ms. Martel had the rare traits you hope to find in a coworker/friend. She could effortlessly put a smile on your face, even in the most stressful of times. She had no problem of keeping the mood light by making fun of you and herself, and she never complained.
It was crazy. At one point the bartender and even some homeless guy outside had come over to chime in "Ah yes, Ms. Martel..." (we're not exactly sure how they knew her).
She certainly left a lasting impression... and a great one at that.
...What thoughts are associated with YOUR name?
Naturally, we began discussing old memories and the conversation turned a little gossipy. That just tends to happen when you're reminiscing. You're curious about what happened with so and so, and it seems like the right time to share never before revealed stories.
They say that a drunken man's words are a sober man's thoughts. Well I hate to admit it, but some of our words were less than admirable regarding a few of our old colleagues. In this competitive, dog-eat-dog world it's just so easy to get under peoples' skin.
Then our friend Ms. Martel's name was brought up.
There was no scandalous gossip.
There were no digs.
Instead, all we could talk about was how much we missed our friend who has since moved out of the city.
It was agreed that Ms. Martel had the rare traits you hope to find in a coworker/friend. She could effortlessly put a smile on your face, even in the most stressful of times. She had no problem of keeping the mood light by making fun of you and herself, and she never complained.
It was crazy. At one point the bartender and even some homeless guy outside had come over to chime in "Ah yes, Ms. Martel..." (we're not exactly sure how they knew her).
She certainly left a lasting impression... and a great one at that.
...What thoughts are associated with YOUR name?
Monday, April 6, 2009
Keep Rollin'!
Ever have one of those days where everything feels "off"?
This weekend, my friend Mark took me on a little road trip to celebrate my birthday. He arranged for us to stay with friends in Rhode Island on Friday and then in Boston on Saturday. As he picked me up and we prepared to hit the road, you could feel excitement in the air.
Little did Mark know what fate had in store for him.
First off, Mark recently lost his job as a result of the economy, which has to be stressful. Rather than sulking, however, he was as upbeat as ever when he picked me up in Manhattan. Parking in the city is always a hassle, so to kick off our adventure, he decided to run into a Starbucks that was around the corner for some coffee.
I was waiting in the car, in charge of sorting through his iPOD to prepare the ultimate play list. Then, all of a sudden, it started POURING outside! I'm not talking a gentle mist, or even a strong precipitation but an all out thunderstorm!
A few minutes went by and I began to wonder if Mark had realized that it was cloudy outside and brought an umbrella.
The next thing I know, I saw Mark sprinting from around the corner completely vulnerable! He was carrying two cups of coffee (what a soldier) that were spilling all over him. The image alone was ridiculous. He had gotten OBLITERATED! Plus, Mark had only brought one pair of jeans for the trip, so changing clothes was out of the question. What a way to start the drive...
A few hours later, we stopped for gas and a few drinks. The weather had slowed our pace and we weren't making good time, but thanks to a phenomenal music playlist (he contributed as well) the energy was great and we were enjoying ourselves.
Then Mark opened his Pepsi... and it EXPLODED all over his pants! Again, we aren't talking about a few drops, but rather a full scale bursting of the pipes! Half of the bottle had relocated to his sole pair of jeans.
Fortunately, he realized that complaining wouldn't help so we laughed and moved on. When we reached our destination, we had one thing on our minds. What are we going to drink tonight?
We settled on Tanqueray and prepared a batch of gin & tonics (Mark's friend had arranged a designated driver for us). As the drinks were flowing, his friend asked us if we wanted to take shots of a cheap vodka that was popular in Rhode Island, called Burnetts. I was fine with my gin but Mark was all about trying a new drink.
"Just don't go too crazy, this (Burnetts) will have you feeling sick in the morning". His friend left an EXPLICIT warning to drink with caution. Mark didn't care.
About 5 shots later, we hopped in the car, ready to see where the night would take us. As we hit the main road, I smelled something terrible. Before I could investigate, Mark tugged on my shirt and whispered that he had puked and JUST noticed that residue was on his shirt. You just can't make this stuff up.
What were we going to do? I wasn't going to embarrass him and we tried to play it cool.
I watched the front seat to see if anyone else in the crew had noticed. The reaction to such a smell is quite entertaining. Allow me to share the process with you:
1. A few moments after the news was broken to me, I saw the facial expressions of the passenger riding shotgun. It was a gradual shift, as if the odor had just set in and she still needed confirmation.
2. About 45 seconds later, his friend seemed noticeably bothered. Still, she hadn't yet reached the point of bringing it up in the conversation. Meanwhile, Mark and I were scrambling for a solution - opening the windows and throwing a barrage of questions their way to keep their minds occupied.
3. The breaking point. Finally, everyone in the car had become DISGUSTED. It was like the Black Panther cologne scene in Anchorman.
"What is that awful smell!?! It's like a used diaper... filled with... Indian food!"
It was terrible and hysterical all at once, yet we somehow managed to escape with the perpetrator left unidentified. Unfortunately, Mark, did not escape the wrath of Burnett's and was out of commission. We called it an early night and got him back safely.
The next morning really impressed me. You would think that Mark would be flustered or worn down by his disastrous day. He wasn't. Throughout it all he remained smiling and never complained. He refused to let it throw him off. Rather than crying over spilled milk, we immediately set out for Boston and had an amazing time.
Life will not always go your way. Learn from Mark and when you feel like you're taking a beating, roll with the punches. That's Sprezzatura.
This weekend, my friend Mark took me on a little road trip to celebrate my birthday. He arranged for us to stay with friends in Rhode Island on Friday and then in Boston on Saturday. As he picked me up and we prepared to hit the road, you could feel excitement in the air.
Little did Mark know what fate had in store for him.
First off, Mark recently lost his job as a result of the economy, which has to be stressful. Rather than sulking, however, he was as upbeat as ever when he picked me up in Manhattan. Parking in the city is always a hassle, so to kick off our adventure, he decided to run into a Starbucks that was around the corner for some coffee.
I was waiting in the car, in charge of sorting through his iPOD to prepare the ultimate play list. Then, all of a sudden, it started POURING outside! I'm not talking a gentle mist, or even a strong precipitation but an all out thunderstorm!
A few minutes went by and I began to wonder if Mark had realized that it was cloudy outside and brought an umbrella.
The next thing I know, I saw Mark sprinting from around the corner completely vulnerable! He was carrying two cups of coffee (what a soldier) that were spilling all over him. The image alone was ridiculous. He had gotten OBLITERATED! Plus, Mark had only brought one pair of jeans for the trip, so changing clothes was out of the question. What a way to start the drive...
A few hours later, we stopped for gas and a few drinks. The weather had slowed our pace and we weren't making good time, but thanks to a phenomenal music playlist (he contributed as well) the energy was great and we were enjoying ourselves.
Then Mark opened his Pepsi... and it EXPLODED all over his pants! Again, we aren't talking about a few drops, but rather a full scale bursting of the pipes! Half of the bottle had relocated to his sole pair of jeans.
Fortunately, he realized that complaining wouldn't help so we laughed and moved on. When we reached our destination, we had one thing on our minds. What are we going to drink tonight?
We settled on Tanqueray and prepared a batch of gin & tonics (Mark's friend had arranged a designated driver for us). As the drinks were flowing, his friend asked us if we wanted to take shots of a cheap vodka that was popular in Rhode Island, called Burnetts. I was fine with my gin but Mark was all about trying a new drink.
"Just don't go too crazy, this (Burnetts) will have you feeling sick in the morning". His friend left an EXPLICIT warning to drink with caution. Mark didn't care.
About 5 shots later, we hopped in the car, ready to see where the night would take us. As we hit the main road, I smelled something terrible. Before I could investigate, Mark tugged on my shirt and whispered that he had puked and JUST noticed that residue was on his shirt. You just can't make this stuff up.
What were we going to do? I wasn't going to embarrass him and we tried to play it cool.
I watched the front seat to see if anyone else in the crew had noticed. The reaction to such a smell is quite entertaining. Allow me to share the process with you:
1. A few moments after the news was broken to me, I saw the facial expressions of the passenger riding shotgun. It was a gradual shift, as if the odor had just set in and she still needed confirmation.
2. About 45 seconds later, his friend seemed noticeably bothered. Still, she hadn't yet reached the point of bringing it up in the conversation. Meanwhile, Mark and I were scrambling for a solution - opening the windows and throwing a barrage of questions their way to keep their minds occupied.
3. The breaking point. Finally, everyone in the car had become DISGUSTED. It was like the Black Panther cologne scene in Anchorman.
"What is that awful smell!?! It's like a used diaper... filled with... Indian food!"
It was terrible and hysterical all at once, yet we somehow managed to escape with the perpetrator left unidentified. Unfortunately, Mark, did not escape the wrath of Burnett's and was out of commission. We called it an early night and got him back safely.
The next morning really impressed me. You would think that Mark would be flustered or worn down by his disastrous day. He wasn't. Throughout it all he remained smiling and never complained. He refused to let it throw him off. Rather than crying over spilled milk, we immediately set out for Boston and had an amazing time.
Life will not always go your way. Learn from Mark and when you feel like you're taking a beating, roll with the punches. That's Sprezzatura.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Friday Fun With Dr. Bob: The Call
** WARNING: ** Before you take in the following information, please keep in mind that the material is mildly explicit. If you intend on reading further, it's highly suggested that you proceed with a non-judgmental mindset as well as a sense of humor. Do NOT take this seriously!
Abby M: It's a Saturday night and I'd like to reach out to a guy I've already been out with on a single date. I want my phone call to seem casual, but not appear to be a booty call. Dr. Bob, is this possible?
(For new readers, as far as dating is concerned, Dr. Bob has "been there and done that". Quite the charmer in his day, Dr. Bob recently had his first child with his lovely wife Jodi. He's graduated from the dating scene but is more than happy to share his pearls of wisdom.)
Dr. Bob: Now Abby, lets assume that this guy is mildly attracted to you.......
From a male perspective, there is no way to interpret a woman's Saturday night phone call as anything other than a BOOTY CALL! While you are still on the phone, your man is flexing in the mirror and thrusting his hips back and forth as he does the booty slap dance. Any friends on site are sure to exchange high fives as they participate in the same wacky dance (Think Knocked Up, it's true.)
From there begins all his planning, scheming, and questioning. Does she want to meet up with me and my friends? Is she expecting me to meet up with her friends? Are we supposed to meet each other with our own entourages? What if she brings a single plain slice eating friend, will one of my boys dive on this grenade?
Then he'll start cleaning the house; the sports trophies are dusted off, and the porn gets stashed away under his bed. Sure, maybe he subtly leaves a playboy lying around so he can share with you how he really "reads" the articles but you'll see right through that when you notice multiple pages stuck together. The point is that his whole night now revolves around sexy time!
By this point, he's already started bragging to his friends and has set the expectation that you are "a ho... FO SHO"! Meanwhile, his friends raise the stakes and start laying 4-1 odds on him totally striking out for the night! The bets are made, pregame drinks are flowing and IT IS ON!!!!
Ladies, this is a tough route to take. Let's say you meet up and decide to take that trip to Pleasure Town... GREAT! Everyone (hopefully) has a jolly old time and you can then proceed to the pivotal third date. On a side note, you should feel free to use the Saturday night call as your own lil' "pizza test". Think about it.
However, remember, your intention is not to be thought of as a booty call. This might seem harsh, but if you end up getting together and then leave with no plans of "bouncin' up on it", you are OUT..... like the back of Kurt Cobain's head! You can't put these pieces back together ( I know, that was in poor taste).
I say this because your man is going to be monumentally frustrated and disappointed, while viewing you as nothing more than a big rooster tease. As a result, he'll head straight for the bar just before last call and order 6 shots in order to drown away the whole experience.
Your target will inevitably harbor even more ill will the next morning when he wakes up extremely hung over, next to the consolation prize that he was forced to scramble up prior to closing time. He's going to dread explaining to some woman with a gold tooth, a patch over her eye, and a Harley Davidson tattoo on her neck that the front door is broken and that she will be leaving via the fire escape.
To make matters worse, he may have been too drunk to remember his jimmy hat. Now the real panic sets in and he'll be terrified of receiving a call from the Maury Povich show on Father's Day; a fear that will remain with him for the next 18 years.
Ladies, this is CLEARLY all of your fault because you decided to lead him on during a Saturday night. Call us on a Tuesday!
Abby M: It's a Saturday night and I'd like to reach out to a guy I've already been out with on a single date. I want my phone call to seem casual, but not appear to be a booty call. Dr. Bob, is this possible?
(For new readers, as far as dating is concerned, Dr. Bob has "been there and done that". Quite the charmer in his day, Dr. Bob recently had his first child with his lovely wife Jodi. He's graduated from the dating scene but is more than happy to share his pearls of wisdom.)
Dr. Bob: Now Abby, lets assume that this guy is mildly attracted to you.......
From a male perspective, there is no way to interpret a woman's Saturday night phone call as anything other than a BOOTY CALL! While you are still on the phone, your man is flexing in the mirror and thrusting his hips back and forth as he does the booty slap dance. Any friends on site are sure to exchange high fives as they participate in the same wacky dance (Think Knocked Up, it's true.)
From there begins all his planning, scheming, and questioning. Does she want to meet up with me and my friends? Is she expecting me to meet up with her friends? Are we supposed to meet each other with our own entourages? What if she brings a single plain slice eating friend, will one of my boys dive on this grenade?
Then he'll start cleaning the house; the sports trophies are dusted off, and the porn gets stashed away under his bed. Sure, maybe he subtly leaves a playboy lying around so he can share with you how he really "reads" the articles but you'll see right through that when you notice multiple pages stuck together. The point is that his whole night now revolves around sexy time!
By this point, he's already started bragging to his friends and has set the expectation that you are "a ho... FO SHO"! Meanwhile, his friends raise the stakes and start laying 4-1 odds on him totally striking out for the night! The bets are made, pregame drinks are flowing and IT IS ON!!!!
Ladies, this is a tough route to take. Let's say you meet up and decide to take that trip to Pleasure Town... GREAT! Everyone (hopefully) has a jolly old time and you can then proceed to the pivotal third date. On a side note, you should feel free to use the Saturday night call as your own lil' "pizza test". Think about it.
However, remember, your intention is not to be thought of as a booty call. This might seem harsh, but if you end up getting together and then leave with no plans of "bouncin' up on it", you are OUT..... like the back of Kurt Cobain's head! You can't put these pieces back together ( I know, that was in poor taste).
I say this because your man is going to be monumentally frustrated and disappointed, while viewing you as nothing more than a big rooster tease. As a result, he'll head straight for the bar just before last call and order 6 shots in order to drown away the whole experience.
Your target will inevitably harbor even more ill will the next morning when he wakes up extremely hung over, next to the consolation prize that he was forced to scramble up prior to closing time. He's going to dread explaining to some woman with a gold tooth, a patch over her eye, and a Harley Davidson tattoo on her neck that the front door is broken and that she will be leaving via the fire escape.
To make matters worse, he may have been too drunk to remember his jimmy hat. Now the real panic sets in and he'll be terrified of receiving a call from the Maury Povich show on Father's Day; a fear that will remain with him for the next 18 years.
Ladies, this is CLEARLY all of your fault because you decided to lead him on during a Saturday night. Call us on a Tuesday!
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