A Place to Raise Your Spirits

A great man (namely, MiaManda's pretty awesome father) once told me:

"When you have money, it finds a way to disappear, but when you need it the most, it has a way of showing up."

Being that I can't help but over-think most topics, I've slowly been building a list of things that seem to ebb and flow at just the right times - money, tummy fat, sex, sanity, and a handful of life's other little pleasures and mysteries. The reasoning can be debated, but the fact can't - life is full of ups and downs beyond anyone's control.

So it was with great glee that I encountered possibly my 20 most entertaining minutes in NYC to date. A combination of "little things" so completely enjoyable and random that even this grinch smiled despite being on the tail end of way too many consecutive days of mundane work, bad take out, contempt for electronics and a generally Negative Nancy-esque attitude towards the technology industry.

Such a tale would be better off shown in the style of a Goodfella's bar stroll, alas my funds, acting inabilities and constant mumbling preclude that from my list of options. Instead, we'll have to go to the good ole' bullet point format that tends to pop up on this blog so often. So imagine, if you will, a grumpy me dressed in my finest hoodie, jeans, 3 year old sneakers and Sox cap strolling out of a generic NYC apartment building feeling like Bill Gates himself just gave me an 8-bit bitch slap of epic proportions:

• A random dude on the street sees the hat. I brace for a "Youk sucks" or "Wish you had A-Rod, don't cha?" or even a simple "27 baby!" Instead I'm pleasantly surprised with a "43 more days 'til spring training then it's on!" A man after my own heart - he reminds me that the early evenings and frigid temperatures will soon part as mits pop, tobacco gets chewed and girls feel comfortable in tank tops and short shorts. A fleeting grin passes my mug as there appears to be hope for a happier future.
  
  
• By the time the temporary enjoyment of such random camaraderie wears off, I'm standing on a subway platform. Luckily a purty l'il thang has decided I'm the least threatening homeless looking dude riding the 4-5 at that point in time and saddles up next to me to wait for a ride. Two things become very apparent within moments of her entering the corner of my eye:
  
  
1. Somewhere under her mini skirt this lovely lady has a wedgie of epic proportions. Between the squirming and shifting, my approximation would be that her lower intestine is being harassed by unwelcome satin.
   
   
2. Her parents stopped at being happy that she isn't working a pole. Apparently discretion, patience and being a lady were not taught in her home.
   
   
With little more than an ounce of hesitation, the girl decided to go for it. While I'm not full on staring, there is no doubt in my mind that my jaw hit the floor as a mini-skirt was lifted to expose a fishnet-bound 22 year old glute trapping some combination of lace and dental floss. I'm not one to complain, but such excitement often drives me deep into my soft, anti-social shell, and in this case onto another train with a facial expression that can only be described as a mixture of awe and confusion.


• Thinking that the night could get no more random, fate decided to throw one more piece of unexpected excitement my way - through the words of Robert Frost. A poem of such simplicity and thoughtfulness that anyone who has walked through a snowy forest after a long day must instantly have their spirits raised:

"The way a crow

Shook down on me

The dust of snow

From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart

A change of mood

And saved some part

Of a day I had rued."

-Dust of Snow

And with those three tiny, random events, an evening of whining and whimpering was turned into a 3 hour grin-fest. The moral of the story is thus:

• Guys - Randomly (and nicely) talk a stranger each day.
• Girls - Randomly flash guys. Even better - strike up a conversation with them.
• Geniuses - Write good stuff that can't be fully appreciated until it lands on a Jeopardy advertisement.

New Year's Eve in NYC: A Better Alternative

Anyone that has spoken to me for more than 12 seconds on the topic of NYC gets an instant dose of passionate (and often unprompted) opinions. First, it is the most amazing place in the world. Second, the taxes are horrible. Third, nestled in the middle of this wonderland is a place of such vulgarity, gaudiness and pinballesque existence that I've devised a list of tortuous activities I'd prefer over a jaunt to the capital of giant M&Ms and unoriginal show tunes.

Naturally, I was less than excited about potentially spending 9 hours on New Year's Eve adjacent to strangers sporting urine bags, ridiculous scarves and Nivea hats just to see 32,235 LED lights drop concurrently. So I was quite delighted to be informed by MiaManda about a healthier, more original and surprisingly entertaining event a mere 25 blocks north of Times Square - the Emerald Nuts Midnight Run.

To say this fun run was the perfect way for a lard-ridden man to start the new year would be an understatement. Among the many benefits are:

• Fireworks in Lieu of a Starting Gun - The display began directly over the starting line and lasted for much of the first mile. Even a bitter old man such as myself had to feel a little giddy.
  
• A Manageable Distance - 4 miles is a great distance. Long enough to get a decent workout, but short enough that even the moderately in shape can run it.
  
• Great Costumes - The Tetris blocks won the costume competition this year, but the full squad of TMNT, the Snuggie patrol and multiple 80s-themed sorority girls gave them a run for the money.
• On Lookers - The streets of Central Park were lined with supporters blaring music, giving high fives and providing plenty of encouragement. I'm not sure who let the old dogs out, but they turned the fun run into a FUN RUN!
  
• Pure Hotness - This one may get me in trouble with the girl, but it is worth mentioning. There were multiple naughty Mrs. Claus costumes, runner chicks in spandex and one can only assume numerous unmentionable thoughts running through other participants' heads. For those more impressed by testosterone, shirtless, moob-less men abound.

Unfortunately, my normal team of trainers, photographers, groupies and handlers decided that activities such as drinking and working were preferable to standing in a dark, cold, snowy Central Park to catch a glimpse of me waddling for 15-20 seconds, so decent pictures are currently non-existent. But please take my word on this one - if you ever plan on spending New Year's Eve in NYC, skip the ball dropping and take a 40 minute jaunt around the park.