Archive for October, 2012

Dear Readers,
I am proud to present my very first guest post by none other than my BFF Royce, partner in crime for many adventures. (That’s him on the right below.) He fancies himself a writer too, and I think you’ll agree that he’s got talent. It took his wife Sarah (that’s her next to him) and me more than a week of badgering to get this out of him. It was worth the wait. Enjoy!

Dear (former) leaf blower,

I retired you yesterday. Several weeks ago, you decided you had worked enough and quit, right in the middle of a job. You just stopped. No two-weeks notice, no “thanks for the opportunity, boss” chat. Nothing. I tried to convince you to stick around: fresh gas, clean air filter, extended time off. Yesterday, when I needed you most, with the yard on the line, you failed me yet again. Gave up with hardly a gasp, no effort whatsoever.

You really only have one purpose for your entire existence, you know: You blow air. That’s it. You were conceived for no other reason than to blow shit around. It’s why I chose you out of all of the others that day not so long ago. You presented so well in your glossy, eye-catching box splashed with pleasing colors and images of manicured lawns and sidewalks. You made me want you and the impossibly well-kept yard you obviously had no role in creating.

Charlatan, I say!

In the hours since your departure, it’s become painfully obvious to me that your time here was too easy, too much like a vacation. Your work days were short and scattered throughout any given season, with as much as three months off for winter break. Summer was admittedly the busiest time of year but even then you were called in two, three times a month, at most. I treated you well enough, I think. Granted,  I didn’t bathe you weekly in warm, soapy water but you were treated with due care and respect. Arguably better than most, I would venture.

Rest assured I will not be making that mistake, again.

And no, I will not be a reference for you.


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To a different Adam

Dear Adam Levine:

Congratulations on the success of “The Voice” and your single “Payphone.” Your work on “The Voice” (and your bromance with Blake) has provided many hours of entertainment for my husband and me.

Though I would consider myself a fan, I would use the qualifier “casual,” not “rabid.” So imagine my surprise when I had a dream about you last night.

I have no idea why I was pitching you my ideas for how to make television news more interactive and appealing to advertisers. I don’t know why you had boobs. I also don’t know what made you think I was gay.

I do wish I owned the lovely dress from the ’30s that I was wearing, complete with matching snood. And I want to thank you for being a gentleman, and loaning me your fur coat to wear when I became chilly.

Anyway, keep up the good work on the show and with Maroon 5, and I’m impressed with your new rapport with Christina.


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Desperate but not serious

Dear Adam,

Let me just say right off the bat that I love you. So much. You are perpetually on the top of my “Get Out of Marriage Free” list.

And that’s why I want you to call my husband.

It’s an odd request, I know, but he is part of the Crossfit Cult. He can help you.


Because this is how you looked the last time in concert:











And this is how you looked Saturday night at the concert in New York City:

That cummerbund is hiding something I never thought you would have.

I’m not trying to be unkind. This is your first U.S. tour in 17 years. I know you took time off to deal with some personal issues.

I just don’t think you were (or are) taking very good care of yourself. You shouldn’t be winded by the second song. Your leaps and high kicks have become an Ed Grimley-style side twist. Your voice sounded like Marge Simpson’s sisters at certain points. I mean, the audience had to help out with “Beat my Guest,” for crying out loud.

This is not to say it wasn’t a fantastic show. It was. Absolutely. It was just hard to reconcile the Adam I remember with the current you. Granted, you could accuse me of carrying around a little more me also. Touché.

But you are in your late 50s now, and I want you to be healthy so you can do what you love: Create music and perform for fans. (And I still want to meet you.)

So, do us all a favor and call Eddie. He can help you try another flavor, so to speak. Be the dandy highwayman you once were.

And remember, as Whitney said, “I will always love you.”

Vive le Rock,
One of your most devoted Antpeople


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Dear Annoying People in and Traveling to/from New York City:

Perhaps you are unaware that you live in a world with other people. You do not operate within a movable cone of silence. Here are some tips (prescriptive and restrictive) for existing in harmony with others:

On an airplane

  • Put your smartphone game on mute, especially if you are going to play it for the entire two-hour flight.
  • Do not speak loudly in Portuguese with your friend to combat the loud English-speakers seated in front of you.
  • Never hum throughout the flight.
  • Please be aware of how much room you take up when wearing a backpack. Be careful when turning as your backpack might hit (repeatedly) the person in the seat next to you.

In an airport bathroom

  • Step out of the way to have a conversation to allow others to use the sink and hand dryer.
  • The bathroom stall is not the place to hold a conversation on your cell phone, especially when there is a line of people waiting.
  • Wash your hands, for Pete’s sake. Clean hands save lives!

In public places

  • Allow at least a foot of clearance between yourself and the person standing in front of you.
  • Do not “tsk,” sigh loudly, rifle through your handbag, talk with your friend, or otherwise disturb others during a tense documentary. The movie theater is not your living room.
  • It is OK to remove your leather jacket at a concert if you get hot. There is no need to sweat inside it, causing a cloud of body odor to emanate from you.
  • If you leave your spot in front of the stage at a concert, you forfeit rights to that spot. You can’t keep coming out and going back into the crowd. It is never OK to push people out of the way.
  • Do not breathe forcefully on the arm of the person next to you at a concert.

In the nail salon

  • Treat your customers kindly. Nail polish should not take hours to dry. If a customer complains about a problem with the manicure that resulted from many layers of polish not drying quickly, do not say to her, “You not careful.”
  • Toes are attached to feet. Do not try to wrench them off customers during a pedicure.

Thank you for your consideration,

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Pip pip to the Brits

Dear People of Oxford, England:

Thank you for your hospitality when I visited last week for a conference. At no time did I feel that you thought less of me because I am an American. (Although perhaps I, like many Americans, was just oblivious.)

Thank you for not mocking me when I tipped, or took an inordinately long time trying to decipher the wording on the coins.

I know you could tell I am American because I smiled all the time and was extra friendly. I hope my American accent didn’t sound too much like a bird squawking. Or like this.

Americans are like dogs to England’s cats. We have big personalities and can be overwhelming. We’re always wanting attention, calling attention to ourselves, trying to engage people somehow. Running around with chew toys and slinging slobber. That sort of thing.

In contrast, you English folks are more reserved, aloof even. You might play with the metaphorical cat toy, but only if it suits you, and certainly not when anyone is watching.

But you were kind to me, and for that I am appreciative.

You really are jolly good chaps.

Cheerio, and I hope to see you again soon.

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