Oh. My. God. I hate to carry shit. It makes me miserable. If I have even one extra thing in my pockets--say, a chunky hotel key, or my camera--my general happiness decreases by about 9%. Because of this I am always on the lookout for new ways to scale down my operation and carry fewer/smaller things.
If I find a thinner wallet, I buy it. I remove the valve covers from the tires on my bike. I sometimes even tear the tags out of my clothing. I found out I could just enter my phone number at the grocery store instead of keeping that scanner thing on my keychain, so I took it off.
I'm mortified and sickened when I see someone with one of those massive, 11-pound keychains with all kinds of fobs and knobs hanging off it. Unless you're a janitor, you don't need all that stuff. I once managed to reduce my entire key universe to just one key, which I kept in my wallet. It was heaven. Unfortunately, at the time, I lived in Latvia where some asshole had decided that all the money worth less than $10 should be coins! And $10 in Latvia at that time would have bought you an apartment, so my key innovations were negated.
I am such a passionate not-carrier of shit that when people say to me, "Hey, hold this for a second?" I have to think about it. Or if my wife decides her very tiny evening purse is the way to go and she wants me to carry her keys and her chapstick and her phone, I'll do it, but I'll sulk. Basically, anything in addition to my wallet, my phone, and my stripped-down keychain is an annoyance and burden to me.
And speaking of wallets, I have actually kidnapped friends' wallets for editing. You find some guys carrying around things like store-specific credit cards, their High School IDs, their memberships to the video store in their home town where they don't live anymore. Don't these dudes realize that all that shit's weighing them down? Not to mention causing them to sit on an incline? It's messing up their posture and their lives!
I'm also mystified when people go to great lengths to avoid checking their bags on planes. I mean, here's an opportunity to have someone else carry your stuff,
and you're not going to take it? I don't mind non-checkers if they're on a day trip. Or if they've packed a sensible weekend bag. That's all well and good. But when you're flaunting the rules and trying to cram a steamer trunk into the overhead compartment just so you... what... get to carry your own shit a bit longer? I'm sorry, you're F-ed, pal.
Me? As soon as anyone in any kind of aviator-looking cap offers to take my bag off my hands, he's welcome to it. Does checked baggage occasionally go missing? Yes. But all that happens then is that they deliver the bag to you a few hours later. In which case, you didn't even have to carry it from airport! Score!
And while I'm on the subject of luggage, let me mention a change in policy around here. I used to think it was poor form for dudes to have wheelie luggage. I felt like a proper man should lug around a huge heavy bag like his forefathers did before him. Then I got me some wheelie luggage and all that changed. However, I do still believe that when a wheelie luggage-having man encounters a flooring surface on which his luggage will make an annoying clackity-clackity-clackity sound, he should pick up the bag and carry it over that portion of the floor.
For me, the ultimate luggage situation would go like this: I wear a light suit onto the plane and carry nothing but a book. Then, on the other end, I buy all the stuff I need for the trip. Of course, that policy would be a bit beyond my means, so until then I'm just going to rock the
Large GB Sea Bag from Connolly Leather that my pops sorted out for me. The nice thing about there being a luxury leather company that has your last name is that you can rock monogrammed stuff without being ostentatious. In other words: It's got my freaking
name on it, dude!
[Note, all these pictures are from the ingenious book Bikes of Burden, by Hans Kemp. He shot all the pics in the city of Saigon, where I bought my copy but it's also available
here.]
White: 1
If I were ever to write a book (Hello? Publishing people?) about my theories on life and thriving in the world, the title of the book would be: Don't Be A Dick.
Just one day after the official formation of The Mild Five*, one of our number is on the front page! Tell me this hostage-saving mimic wouldn't be a proud addition to our ranks? The power to imitate terrorist leaders and command their underlings to release a bunch of hostages (more or less) is so awesome I think this guy's probably too powerful for us. I mean, he's not an A-lister. He's not hanging out at Wayne Manor or the Fortress of Solitude, but I bet he thinks he's too cool for the Mild Five* at this point. He's, at the very least, sitting with the skaters and rockers at lunch now instead of us. In fact, he probably wouldn't even deign to speak with us anymore. Not in his own voice anyway. We'd call him and he'd just mock us with his C-list power.
I'm not saying you need to use perfect grammar all the time. But I do think everyone should establish at least a toe hold on the major mistake areas. If you're going to get a tattoo of Elmer Fudd on your ass, for example, you might want to run a spelling and grammar check on the accompanying text before you ink it. Of course, if you're going to get a tattoo on your butt depicting Elmer Fudd hunting for Bugs Bunny inside of your asshole, you might be running a judgement deficit in the first place.
White: 3
I am fascinated with asparagus pee. In fact, I dare say, it might be my favorite part of eating asparagus. I sit there, munching the savory stalks and wondering just how appalling and foul my pee is going to be. I also like it the following morning, when you've forgotten all about the asparagus, and you pee, and you're thinking, "What the hell happened here?" But then you remember about the asparagus and you're psyched!
PS: If you're really, really into asparagus pee--even more than I am--you could get one of these asparagus pee hoodies.
3. Papaya: Papaya looks very delicious, but in fact it is sinister, dastardly, and tastes like soil. About once a year I get beguiled by a papaya and I give it another shot. These experiments invariably end in tears. The only enjoyable way to consume papaya is when you get it from Gray's Papaya with a hot dog. Strangely, then, it's about the best thing ever.
Oh. My. God. I hate to carry shit. It makes me miserable. If I have even one extra thing in my pockets--say, a chunky hotel key, or my camera--my general happiness decreases by about 9%. Because of this I am always on the lookout for new ways to scale down my operation and carry fewer/smaller things.
And speaking of wallets, I have actually kidnapped friends' wallets for editing. You find some guys carrying around things like store-specific credit cards, their High School IDs, their memberships to the video store in their home town where they don't live anymore. Don't these dudes realize that all that shit's weighing them down? Not to mention causing them to sit on an incline? It's messing up their posture and their lives!
For me, the ultimate luggage situation would go like this: I wear a light suit onto the plane and carry nothing but a book. Then, on the other end, I buy all the stuff I need for the trip. Of course, that policy would be a bit beyond my means, so until then I'm just going to rock the Large GB Sea Bag from Connolly Leather that my pops sorted out for me. The nice thing about there being a luxury leather company that has your last name is that you can rock monogrammed stuff without being ostentatious. In other words: It's got my freaking name on it, dude!
1. If you can’t get bread to eat, just have some nice cake.
11. Go to your town’s financial district. Wait for the stockbrokers to start jumping out the windows. Take their watches and wallets.
18. Get a job as a janitor in a department store and work there until the son of a captain of industry takes a fancy to you and requests you as his birthday present. For a while, you’ll have problems suffering the indignity of serving as a human “toy,” but eventually, you’ll both learn a lot about the nature of friendship—and money can’t buy that kind of understanding.
5. Fingernails (His)
By what right, Mr. Dry Cleaner, did you put a staple in my shirt? I respect that you need some kind of labeling system to sort your charges by owner, but staples? Really? There's nothing else you could use there? Staples just seem so analog. Not to mention that they leave little twin punctures in the shirt. Isn't there some kind of stickering system we could put in play here? Maybe we could use all the leftover stickers from the fruit. Yes. That would work I think. Or how about twist ties on the hangers? Ever think of that? Look, there are a lot of you guys, and you don't seem to do very much, so if you put your heads together, I'm sure you could sort this out.
And while I'm on the subject of little twin punctures in my shirts, let me just announce I have a new stance on name tags. I used to be a bit of a rebel when it came to Hello My Name Is tags. I'd always try to find some kind of left of center place to affix them--on the thigh, on the upper arm like a military ranking designation. Now, I figure, I'm a father, I'm a big boy with real world responsibilities, so I just don't wear the fuckers at all and everyone can suck it.
When was the decree handed down that all men's shorts needed to have gaping, tenting side pockets that make me look like I'm toting around a couple of grapefruits? And, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't the point of shorts that they be significantly shorter than pants? I've been looking for a pair of shorts for about three months now and I've learned a couple things: First of all, ALL shorts now have the side pockets. The only exception to this rule are "golf shorts." But since "golf shorts" just look like you took a pair of suit pants and cut off the legs, they're not much help. They also make you racist.
White: 4
By what means does Dunkin' Donuts heat its coffee that it can remain undrinkably hot for an entire day? Nuclear power? Sorcery? Are they splitting atoms back there? Honestly, you could cook over a cup that coffee. And what corporate genius called a meeting and said, "We have to dedicate all of our resources to inventing a secret means of coffee heating that will allow people to continue burning their mouths long after any kind of reasonable cooling period has expired." Was the guy abused as a child? Did his mother inflict scaldings on him so he developed a really twisted concept of what an enjoyable coffee experience might be? Dear Make the Donuts Guy: You seem reasonable. And god knows you're dedicated to the business. So if you're not dead, which I think you are, could you possibly communicate the following to the Coffee Department: We're purchasing your coffee "to go." This means we're walking with it, or driving with it, or, heaven forfend, trying to drink it before our flight leaves. So please, we can't sit out a scalding period that's measured in half lives. You guys have to chill out, literally.
