Love Is Unwise- Why Dating Can Get Harder As You Age.

12 Jun

Have you ever wondered why the median age for (first) marriage is what it is? The most recent census has the median age for Americans at 27 years old with an average previous “dating” period of 4 years. This means most relationships that come to fruition with a marriage begin at age 23.

It gets worse. In Britain, 2.5 million people over the age of 45 live alone with no spouse, no ex spouse (which means they were never married) and no children. This is a 50% increase from the 90s.

Why all the relationship success for the young 2o somethings?? Young 20 somethings are always complete dumbasses. I know i was. It seems logical that someone more mature, with dating experience, would have plenty of success in relationships. After all, they’ve been around the block a few times and are probably pretty level-headed compared to their raging younger counterparts.

“It seems logical… mature… level-headed.” Love isn’t any of those things. Think of all the immature, hot headed things people in love do for each other. Any 20 something can tell you- Love is illogical.

Experience nets wisdom. So when we grow up a little bit, we say wise things like “You have to define the parameters of the relationship at any stage. Otherwise the two people will have different expectations of what is acceptable in the relationship and that is a recipe for a disaster.” How wise, indeed. Except love IS a disaster.

Part of the problem with wisdom as it pertains to love in the dating game is maturity. Experienced daters have been in infant stage relationships before. So they will be more objective, less bias, and be able to control their feelings better. But love changes from person to person to day to day. Love is completely subjective and very bias.

Maturity straight-jackets us into acceptable parameters. For instance, if a mature person’s significant other does something acceptable in the relationship but it is not to the mature person’s liking, the mature person knows they are not allowed to get upset. That’s dumb.

A common example of this would be if i’ve gone on a few dates with someone, like them, but am not in an official relationship with them and they go on a date with someone else. That’s upsetting to me, because i like her. But i know i’m not in an official relationship with her, so i’m not allowed to get upset or mad. Again, that’s dumb. Get upset. My wisdom tells me that i owe it myself and her to tell her that i’m upset. Not just sit back in what is acceptable parameters. Even though we all know she’ll say “we’re not together”.

I’ve used “love” and “dating” somewhat interchangeably. I’m wise enough to know the difference between the two. However, i also operate under the assumption that dating’s ultimate goal is love. Therefore, in order for dating to achieve this goal, the participants must display the attributes of love.

A mature wise person won’t get overly upset at things not working out. They’re more likely to think “Well…. that’s the way these things go” and move on. An immature young person will make a complete ass of themselves in the name what they want before just thinking “I’m better off if i just move on”. That’s why they’re more successful. Because they ARE immature and unwise. Love is immature and love is unwise.

Wisdom is experience, unbiased,  maturity, objectivity, and logical.
Love is new, biased, immature, subjective, and illogical. Love is unwise.


Why I’m Bald (And Kick Ass!)

30 May

Alopecia Areata- the immune system recognizes the hair follicle as a foreign entity, attacks and kills it. I have it. I live with it. One thing i don’t do is suffer from it.

“The tall bald guy?”

–Yea. That’s me. 10 years ago on June 1st, right before the start of the 2002 World Cup, i razored what hair i had on my head off and haven’t really had the option of anything else since.

For the most part, i grew up with a full head of hair. There are pictures of a little bald David running around, but that was very brief. But in high school the patches got bigger and bigger and finally, after i graduated a severe case of the fuckits set in and i shaved my head under the guise of emulating Brad Friedel’s (American goalkeeper) hair style for the World Cup.

God i hated it. It was the eyebrows. I just wanted eyebrows. I was always the kid with no eyebrows. Still am, actually. Nope, i don’t have eyebrows. Yep, i banged your sister. Sorry i’m not sorry, bro. <—cynicism that i try my best to shrug off, but haven’t yet.

When i was very very little i asked my mom “Why did God pick me to have this?” (What do you say that!?!?!) and she answered with, to this day, the best answer to any question i have heard.

“Because He knows you can handle it.”

I’ve been speaking lately about charisma and how important it is to me. I’d like to think i’m charismatic (in addition to be fucking awesome), and if you accept that i am– the source of it is obvious.

Nature vs Nurture is an interesting debate. But surely whatever innate characteristics; whatever virtues we are born with are made stronger by our nurture. Being the kid with no eyebrows, being the bald guy for 10 years, has been an opportunity for me to sharpen, construct, and forge whatever virtues i possess.

I don’t even categorize my Alopecia as positive negative experience. It’s brand recognition bitch!!!! I love it.

Not only has Alopecia given me the opportunity to perfect my virtues, it’s given me my identity. How many guys with no eyebrows do you know that are this freakin’ hilarious and sexy? Exactly.

I’ll always be bald- for the rest of my life. Thank God.

…. How much did that laser hair removal cost you, anyways?








The Virtue Of Racism- Why Political Correctness Is The Real Fruit Of Ignorance

14 Feb

Black people like rap music. Mexicans eat beans and rice. Orientals take their shoes off inside. Whites aren’t as good as athletes as coloreds.

Only one of those statements is a racist statement.

RACISM is the belief that one race of people is superior to another. Saying “black people like watermelon” isn’t allowed. It’s racist. But by saying it, i haven’t said anything negative about black people. I haven’t professed black peoples’ inferiority. Still, it’s a racist thing to say.


“Because…”, i’ve been told, “… you’re putting everyone into one category. Not ALL black people like watermelon and chicken.” True. So what if i said “Black people are good at basketball”? Would THAT be racist? I’d be putting all black people into one category. Of course it’s not racist. It’s silly.

Post modern thinking is to blame. We’re told from when we’re little “everyone is special” and it’s “good to be different”. So if i group everyone into one category, and generalize, i’ve clearly left some people out. And in our “everyone is special” world, it doesn’t feel okay to leave people out. It feels mean.

But i still haven’t said anything negative about ANYBODY.

“Black men do a poor job of raising their children.” That’s a pretty negative thing to say. And while i still haven’t openly professed black people to be inferior, the negative connotations certainly implied it. But, statistically, blacks’ legitimacy rates are horrendous. Not ALL black men do a poor job of raising their children. And it’s not fair to them to lump the together. It’s not fair!

So, is it racist to subscribe to a stereotype, negative or positive, true or un-true? By definition, no. But it certainly FEELS that way.

“Don’t judge people!” were told. Really? What am i suppose to do when a large man dressed in black approaches me with a knife? Make NO judgments about his intentions? I mean, he COULD be on his way returning a Rambo-looking, JACKHAWK 9000, two-foot knife to the store he bought it at. What non-sense. All anyone can do is make judgments. That doesn’t mean those judgments are bad. I judged the little girl crossing the street this morning was a sweet, cute, innocent little kid. I could’ve been wrong. She could’ve been rotten. But probably not.

“We’re all special.”, “Everyone is different.”,”It’s not fair!”, “Don’t judge people.”

These are the sentiments that lead us down that path of political correctness- We mustn’t generalize or make blanket statements, because if we do; peoples’ feelings could get hurt. We’ll leave people out, or group others where they don’t belong, we’re told.

But nobody asks or even BOTHERS to look at what the majority of the blanket statements are saying or if they’re true. It doesn’t matter. We’ve reached a point where all blanket statements are taboo. Oh the irony!

If you continually walk down the path of political correctness, you’ll find the bastardization of the English language (not the historic, modern fluid change of of it).  We’re not suppose to say “oriental” anymore. It’s “Asian”. Why? What’s wrong with the word “oriental”? “Not all of Asia is included in The Orient.” …. and we HAVE to include everyone. So words change.  Phrases change. It’s no longer “Merry Christmas!”. We have to say “Happy Holidays!”

Saying “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas” is better because everyone is included. Everyone is special, no one is left out or put into a category they don’t belong in, so no one’s feelings get hurt.

Really? We’re at a point where not just words, but GOOD SENTIMENTS can injure our “feelings”? The adage of ‘Sticks and Stones’ doesn’t even apply anymore.

Instead we have campaigns to “End Fat Talk”. We’re not allowed to greet each other a certain way for fear of “hurting someone’s feelings” or even make positive assumptions about a group of people. We have to discard logic and stop thinking and stop “making judgments”. Live and let live.

I don’t. I THINK about what is being said. I observe things and analyze them. Also know as making judgments. So i know when i say “Mexicans all ride together in a pick-up truck” i haven’t said anything negative about Mexicans. And i certainly don’t think they’re an inferior race. And i sure as hell am not racist.


Top 5 Sandwiches A Woman Can Bring You And What They Say About Your Relationship

9 Feb

“WOMAN! FEED ME!” — Max. (Where The Wild Things Are)

Max hit the nail on the head. WOMEN! FEED US!! Feed us… what? Sandwiches! That’s what! What kind of sandwich a woman brings you says a lot about how she feels about you.

When you were little did you get Snack Pak puddings and Fruit Gushers in your lunch? Remember how awesome your mom was? Or were you the loser kid with carrot sticks and nilla wafers? Yea, your mom hated you.

Not much has changed. We need sandwiches. The key to a good sandwich are the preparations. Two slices of meat between bread does not constitute a sandwich. However, a careful even spread of peanut butter and grape jelly with the crust cut off can be an excellent sandwich. One says “Here. Eat this.” and the other says “I made you a little something. I appreciate you.”

While each sandwich presents different challenges, there are some constants. Bread type. Toasted or untoasted. Crust or no crust. Diagonal, horizontal, vertical cut, or un-cut. The degree in which these variables are taken into consideration are a direct reflection of a woman’s care for her man.

5. The PB&J:

Ahh… Peanut butter and jelly. Classic, simple, and delicious. While it might not seem like a PB&J takes much time or prep work, this vintage sandwich can be as versatile as your girlfriend’s mood swings on Rumple night. Peanut butter is not easy to spread evenly. And even harder if you’re a crunchy peanut butter man. Jellies vary greatly too. Strawberry, Grape, Peach., OH MY! Yes, there’s nothing quite like a woman shouting “PB&J, hun??” from the next room. While simplistic, a PB&J can be slapped together impatiently or smothered evenly with love.

4. The Ham & Cheese:

Another classic. Here all of the previous variables are at play, yet we enter a HUGE component of the sandwich. The condiment. Mustard? Spicy or yellow? Mayo? Ew. No. Helleman’s please. Thick cut ham or thinly sliced? I prefer my my ham shredded and piled up high. Then there’s the cheese. Pasteurized cheese product of hatred? Or sliced gouda of care? The Ham & Cheese is a filling delicious option when constructed with patience and appreciation. But also has the potential to be a meat and bread combination of mediocrity.

3. The Tuna Melt:

The tuna melt is a difficult sandwich to construct, i’m told (i’m a man, so i don’t REALLY know). I can see how it would be. Does she use tuna salad? Or tuna fish? Did she make the tuna salad? With a lot of celery? Consider the time it would take to make tuna salad. Leftover tuna salad, maybe? Then the cheese again? Do we even want cheese? I know i want my bread toasted for this one. Yes, the tuna melt can vary from opening a tin can and throwing some bread together out of impatience to a full on preparation of affection.

2. The Grilled Cheese:

THE Grilled Cheese. THE Grilled Cheese, gentlemen…… Delicious.

For many MEN, this is the number one. And it’s not hard to see why. The Grilled Cheese is perhaps the most delicious sandwich on the face of the planet. There are gourmet variations of this delectable creation, but the majority of constructions are relatively simple. However, the sheer tastiness of this sandwich is a signal that she cares. If she didn’t you wouldn’t be permitted to put such a perfection of a sandwich in your mouth. 

1. The Sketti Sammich:

The Sketti Sammich? The rarest of sandwiches. The pinnacle of love, caring, and, dare i say, LUST. The Sketti Sammich is exactly what it sounds likes. Spagetti made into a sandwich. There’s no way to mess this one up fellas. If she brings you one of these, go buy a ring. She’s a keeper. First, the spaghetti must be prepared, a meal in of itself. THEN it must be distributed to the appropriate bread (the type of which i cannot even say, because it is only known to a loving woman) and then presented in a easily manageable sandwich. No doubt, she loves you.


In the end that’s what sandwiches are about. Love. The time she takes to consider you and use her femininity to feed you. And as men it is our job to appreciate, never complain about the sandwich brought. I am confident a real woman wouldn’t waste her time on an impostor picky eater “man” that complained about his sandwich.

WOMEN! FEED US!!!! But more importantly, love us.


Obedience- The Fruit Of Love.

8 Feb

When we are young, we are always told what to do. Our mom tells us– don’t you ever cross the street! But we can’t be 35 and wait for someone to take our hand and cross the street with us. We start with rules, and as we become mature we understand the Commandments of God as not being capricious, but as being there to help us live a good, healthy human life.

Obedience is a gift. There is a great difference between obedience and enslavement. When God put Adam and Eve in the Garden He asked them not to eat from that One Tree. Nothing else, just do not eat from that tree. This represents choice. Obedience is a free response that we give in love to the one who asks us to do something. As long as they responded to God’s request, they had an unbroken relationship with him. But they chose themselves over God, they broke that relationship.

In the modern world, obedience can be greatly abused. In our fallen world, it’s actually possible to abuse anything. A spiritual father can suggest something, not command. He should say “Perhaps consider doing this or not doing that”. The spiritual child must feel the love of his spiritual father, that his spiritual father will be able to give his life for him! Obedience is the loving response to someone that we trust utterly and completely.

Alarm bells must go off when the spiritual father commands to do this or that. This is enslavement, because the relationship between a spiritual father and his child must reflect the relationship of God and His creation.

Obedience means putting ourselves in the second place! Obedience is a response to love. It’s the reverse of what happened in the Garden. Obedience is always the choice of the other. It’s really the story of human life. But obedience without freedom is slavery, and the one who seeks to enslave us is Satan. God never enslaves us, He asks us, and we respond.

The problem is our pride. We misuse our freedom; we can be selfish in how we use our freedom. It can be all about me, and not about you. But who cares what your opinions are? If I die today, no one will remember my opinion. There is even a psychological disease called borderline personality. You think everything has value in relationship to you. These people can’t love, they don’t have the machinery. The possibilities to misuse our freedom are numerous!

We love, and so we are obedient. When Adam disobeyed God, he was closed from Him. The relationship was broken, it was no longer free. Therefore, disobedience is actually at odds with freedom. And freedom and obedience walk hand in hand.

Optimism- A Conscience Choice.

8 Feb

How full is the cup? Half Empty? Half full? Over-flowing? Or is the cup over-flowing with diarrhea? The beauty is…. you get to choose. Its a choice.

It has been my experience that Nature decides how full and what is in a person’s cup. That is; you’re either born a pessimist or you’re born an optimist.  However, i also believe that not many people challenge their pessimistic outlook. If you’re an optimist, you’re pretty happy, logically, and there’d be no reason to challenge your mindset! But what if someone dropped a big stinkin’ deuce in the cup?

You know the people i’m talkin’ about. The people who, if you tell them you won the lottery, immediately respond with “Well.. you’re gonna have to pay taxes on that! And it’ll be a really big hassle to get all that money!” The people who if they miss an exit on their way to a destination, cancel the entire damn trip and go home. The people who when you ask if the cup is half full or half empty, they respond with “Someone diarrhea’d in the cup!” The people who think life is a chore.

These people are born pessimists. They’ll try and tell you its’ because they’re “experienced” or had a rough life, or they’re “just realistic”. What’s realistic is that you’re pissing me off and you’re miserable to be around. However, this pessimistic mindset is not inescapable. Obviously, as a supreme optimist (the annoyingly optimistic/ borderline ignorant kinda optimistic, i might add) it’s easy for me to say: All you have to do is chose a different cup.

There is a difference between being an optimist and being ignorant of your self. Ever go to wal-mart and turn your nose up at that people there? Of course you do! Look at that 300 lb. black lady with curlers in her hair and spandex pajamas on! Gross!


Maybe she had to run out in the middle of the night to get something for her sick mother. You don’t know. She’s either a crazy black lady with no class or some lady that looks kinda funny but is potentially a great person. The choice is yours.

The day is filled with un-educated conclusions. Conclusions we arrive at based on assumptions. Assumptions are easily manipulated. I don’t assume the lady with a mustache at QT is gross, instead i assume she’s fluent in 5 languages and works 2 jobs. Am i probably wrong? Sure. But who cares? What does it matter if she has poor hygiene or if she’s a great person? An optimistic mindset is more important than being right about a trite subject.

It is but a decision to smile in stead of frown. It is a decision to make a positive assumption rather than a negative. Pessimists will tell you that that’s not realistic. That life is hard and unforgiving. And that if you don’t prepare for the worst… you’re fucked. They won’t tell you to expect the best.

Most often, the extreme pessimists are afraid of, not hardship, but of failure. They WANT the good so bad, that their world will end if it’s not realized. That they love someone, something, or themselves SO MUCH, that any negative experience for what they love (person, place, or thing) would be devastating.

This is a much harder concept to manipulate. The lesson of a good negative experience is hard to grasp. Take jail. I’ve been to jail. It sucked ass. God did it suck ass. But realistically there were little costs. I missed out on a weekend i would’ve spent doing nothing. And i learned a helluva a lot. A helluva a lot. It was a GOOD negative experience for me. Do i want to go again? Hell no. Am i better off for going? Hell yes. Which is easy to say in hindsight. The trick is being able to recognize a good negative experience when you’re going thru one. If you can recognize it, it’s easy to smile in jail.

Know how to recognize it? Start by complimenting that fat black lady at Wal-Mart. Say something nice to her. Not because it’ll make her smile or because she needs a ray of sunshine to brighten the fat squishing out of her spandys. But because YOU need to smile. YOU need sunshine. Start by making different assumptions about people and events.

The mindset of optimism is infectious. Start small. Start at wal-mart.

The cup is over-flowing. With diarrhea. But the diarrhea tastes like chocolate!

Your Something Better.

7 Feb

When you’re little you squiggle.

Then you get older and you wriggle.

Still you get a little bigger and walk.

You walk. You walk. You walk.


“Try the blue ones!” They say.

“Oh i’ll take tons! Ok! Ok!”

You grab some icky ock and you’re well on your way.

You walk. You walk. You walk.


No clothes, just your icky ock.

Neked down to your toes, what fun with your icky ock!

A wiggyjub nut falls from the tree.

You walk. You walk. You walk.


There’s your icky ock! You can see.

It’s right around the block. You sawr it fall.

Why can’t you get it? This isn’t your block at all.

You walk. You walk. You walk.


Instead you pick up a flick flack bean.

Full of smiles. The flick flack bean is shown on TV.

Stupid wiggyjub nut tree.

You walk. You walk. You walk.


Ever since the flick flack bean, people are mean.

You just want your icky ock.

But you don’t even know which is your block.

You walk. You walk. You walk.


You can still SEE your icky ock.

“Go and pick it out of the tree, you dunce!”

They exclaim. But you remain. Along with pain of the flick flack.

You walk. You walk. You walk.


Finally you realize, it wasn’t a wiggyjub nut.

It was the sky.  And you can barely even hear your icky ock,

but for a faint “putput”.

You walk. You walk. You walk.


Your icky ock is gone.

You sit out on the lawn, with the flick flack drawn.

And you find….. something better.

You walk. You walk. You walk.


You’ve lost your icky ock.

But you’ve found your something better…

and it’s was on your block.

You walk. You walk. You walk.