The Five Weddings You Will Attend This Summer

I am not attending a wedding in 2017.

This on its face seems shocking as at age 30, I should be in my prime of wedding-going...like a Heat era LeBron. In fact, this is either a statistical anomaly or people just don't like me as much as I think they do. Rather it is likely a combination of a few factors: moved far away from home (lost touch with high school friends) live in a large city (where people tend to get married later) and am single (being in a relationship doubles the pool of possible wedding invites) or perhaps I am just in the eye of the storm.

Yes the 'eye of the storm' a brief respite from the chaos, a line in the sand if you will between the people that wanted to get married and start pumping out kids and the people that wanted to chase a career/travel the world/have sex with a lot of people before settling down. There are merits to both of course. I have effectively sacrificed any opportunity to be the cool young dad. Hell, I probably will be too old to coach my kid's little league team (if I ever have kids) however, I will have better stories.

That said, many of you will be going to weddings this summer and I have analyzed my data and decided that almost any wedding can be boiled down into one of five archetypes. So behold, the five weddings you are likely to attend this summer.

1. The Reunion
Date: No
Suggested Gift: Crowdfund the Honeymoon

This is the wedding that probably takes place shortly after college between high school sweethearts or a Greek power couple and guess what? The whole fucking frat/sorority/graduating class is invited. You've probably been looking forward to this one for a while, it's like a five year reunion except only the people that you played rage cage with in undergrad. You've probably got 3-4 text chains going about this wedding well in advance of 100 days out. One is concerned with lodging (FUCK IT LETS GET A 10 BEDROOM AIRBNB) One concerning drugs (honestly I've heard it's pretty safe to fly with edibles) and one concerning who is going to try to bang who (is their old social chair still single?)

The reunion wedding is often the best type of wedding because you will know every single person there and there likely won't be any plus ones, simply because it would be awkward for the dates to show up in a sea of people who have all hooked up with each other and been blacking out together for the better part of a decade. This is also what makes it the most dangerous. If you are the boyfriend of a chick going back to a reunion wedding you just have to know that your girlfriend's ex-boyfriend will be there and he will stop at nothing to take her down. If you were ever going to splurge on some first class tickets to Hawaii, this is the weekend to do it pal.

The reunion weddings are also great because you know all of the parents and they've been hip to your antics since Sophomore year of high school. They knew you were sneaking whiskey into the basement in back then and they know why you are running to the bathroom every 15 minutes at the reception now, but whatever. It's a celebration right? Hell the Groom and Bride are the most likely people to have to be carried home. When every person in the room is offering you a shot it's hard not to be right?

2. The Royal Ball
Date: Yes
Suggested Gift: The only thing on the registry from Restoration Hardware you can afford

The last time I had to rent a tuxedo was the day I got initiated into my fraternity, but I know it's coming, the black tie, $500,000 affair brought to you by the parents of the bride. You know the type, more money than God, one daughter, and once chance to throw the most extravagant party of the year? Yes, this is The Royal Ball wedding, hell it may even have some crazy theme like Capulets and Montagues or some shit. Open bar with top shelf booze, a venue that was booked two years out, horses will probably be involved in some way, this shit is going to be crazy.

Tread lightly though my friends, this is not the wedding that you want to end up passed out naked in the front lawn. You never want to cross rich people, they will make you pay. Rather, the move here is to pleasantly interact with all of the grown-ups (the parents of your friends) have fun at the photo booth, take lots of pictures and tag them with the appropriate wedding hashtag including the phrase 'what a beautiful ceremony' and then at a reasonable hour head to bed with your date and have missionary sex.

In fact, make it to brunch in the morning! Make some polite jokes about one of the uncles. "Uncle Mike, I thought you were about to tear an ACL on that dance floor!" Or "Aunt Marge you kept slipping me Champagne and sent me to bed by 10!" These are the PG-13 jokes that can curry favor with the social elite, maybe a job offer is to follow. What a success! Also if you don't vomit on your tux, I've heard you get your security deposit back.

3. The Hipster Banger
Date: Optional
Suggested Gift: Polaroid Camera

So the hipster banger is kind of like the wrap partiy of weddings. There may be some sort of non-religious ceremony presided over by some cousin that got an officiant degree online. In fact there may not even be a real dinner, just some passed apps followed by a DJ playing bangers until 3 in the morning at an event space in Silverlake. Sounds like a good time right?

In fact, what is becoming more and more common is couples are eloping, then returning to town to throw a party so they can celebrate with their friends. Who needs the expensive church? Millenials don't even believe in religion right?

This will probably be the status quo for your friends that you meet later in life, post college and the sort. Perhaps it's like a make-up artist and grip that met on a Freeform show. There will be no one over the age of 35 at this wedding so feel free to bring a date or just hit on the bride's single cousin from San Diego. This wedding will definitely have a Snap Chat filter, there will certainly be a themed drink and there might even be an after party in a warehouse downtown for the really cool kids.

4. The Destination Wedding
Date: Yes
Suggested Gift: Something sentimental, a painting, a beautifully framed photo, a scrapbook of the couple...because you'll be broke AF after one of these.

There are several schools of thought on the destination wedding. The most cynical would be that you can invite a bunch of people that won't come and who will still send gifts. I choose to believe that the reason is because it's probably pretty dope to get married on an island somewhere and then just stick around for your honeymoon. Hell, maybe your friends will stick around too and you can just party for a week. The idea of a honeymoon is likely a bit outdated, while in the 1950s I suppose it's possible that the married couple wanted some alone time, it's much more likely in 2017 that the couple have been living together for years and would love to rip it in Hawaii with their friends.

The Destination Wedding is likely the smallest on the list, it's expensive to book hotel and travel for one, let alone two. If you are thinking about cruising into the Dominican looking for a Bridesmaid or a fresh divorcee this is unlikely to be the wedding for you. I've actually never been to a destination wedding (well technically every wedding I attend is a destination wedding for me since I live thousands of miles from everyone) but I imagine there is lots of laying around by pools and drinking fruity drinks. Maybe there is a day time excursion that involves crocodiles. Sounds fun!

Destination Weddings can be inconvenient if you're broke, or a nice excuse to take a vacation if you're not. Even the saltiest boss can't fault you for 'going to your brother's wedding,' whereas I am having a very hard time crafting the 'hey I want to go to Burning Man' conversation. But certainly the best part of a destination wedding is that it is almost guaranteed to be outdoors which means you are able to wear that sick seersucker suit you bought on clearance in December.

5. The Shitshow
Date: Doesn't Matter
Suggested Gift: Cash

Ah, I've been waiting for this one, the frat party of weddings. Who needs a fancy venue when you've got a garage and an unemployed cousin who will pour keg beer all night for 50 bucks? Have you ever heard the joke about people tailgating a wedding? I have been to weddings where people tailgate, where people wear jeans, where people bring flasks because they aren't sure there will be an open bar. These weddings are often the best.

One of the most disturbing trends in weddings lately has been the Firday, Sunday (or even Thursday!!) wedding to save money. I assure you, as someone who has been to multiple weddings in barns in Iowa the only things you need to have a fun wedding: loud music, fun people and lots of beer.

Maybe the bride's parents don't have a lot of money, maybe the couple is footing the bill themselves, but the cheaper the wedding, the more likely something like a 100 person game of flip cup is to break out, the more likely it is for someone to bring a trunk full of fireworks, the more likely it is for you to find romance in a cornfield. These are the stories you want from your wedding, the stories you will cherish forever. No one will remember how lovely the flower arrangement was at your wedding, but they will remember when ole Uncle Billy passed out mid-speech and people drew dicks on him.

Ok maybe a girl who has been dreaming of her wedding her whole life, perfectly mapping everything out on Pinterest, doesn't want her wedding remembered as the time people drew dicks on her passed out uncle...but it does make for one hell of a story. Enjoy wedding season everyone!

Tales From the Locker Room

I once compared Anne Boleyn to the 'condom piercing jersey chasers' that hung outside the Pacers locker room. My high school English teacher didn't like this and it prompted a call home.

My mom wasn't having ANY of that shit.

Teacher: Your son compared the Queen of England to 'condom piercing jersey chasers' that hang outside an NBA locker room.

My Mom (English Major): Interesting comparison, from what I recall the Boleyns were a power hungry family that would stop at nothing to curry favor with the crown. I suppose this is in a way similar to ensuring one would procreate with a famous athlete.

Teacher: That's not the point, it's inappropriate to discuss this in a catholic school.

My Mom: But it's true, he works for the Pacers, this practice has been known to happen. The players are taught about it.

Teacher: Still, it's offensive.

My Mom: I think it's probably more offensive to cut off someone's head because they can't bear you a male heir.

Rest assured, there were no more calls home the rest of high school.

I got my job as a ball boy through a fairly innocuous event. I was doing community service as mandated by my high school at a celebrity golf tournament. As this was Indiana, 'celebrities' were local on-air talent and a few older athletes.

My job on this day was to 'sell' mulligans, or rather the chance to earn a mulligan. For $5 you could attempt a free throw, if you may aforementioned free throw you could use a mulligan on the hole, which was also a par 3 and home to the closest to the pin contest. Closest to the pin won a basketball goal. This was also the 17th hole so most of the men that came through were thoroughly sauced by this point, selling the mulligans wasn't too tough.

Near the end of the day, a polite gentleman in his late 50's asked if he could attempt a slam dunk in lieu of a free throw. As I had never seen anyone over 50 attempt a dunk and I was bored, I urged him to knock himself out. What I did not know is that Darnell Hillman was a former NBA dunk contest champion. After he pulled off a spectacular windmill dunk we had a laugh and he offered me a job interview with the Indiana Pacers.

The following day I arrived at Conseco Fieldhouse in a shirt and tie for a 'job interview.' Unbeknownst to me, the 'interview' was just to rebound for Reggie Miller for 30 minutes. Shockingly, I didn't screw anything up and he offered me a thumbs up as he retired to the locker room. I had the job.

The life of an NBA ball boy isn't quite what it seems. On television you see the guys run down the base line and grab the player's warm-ups. You see them rebound before a game and wipe up sweat after a fall, but the majority of the job takes place before and after games. The job is actually fairly similar to being a production assistant.

The coolest parts of the job were driving $90,000 cars around downtown Indianapolis to get gas. Jermaine O'Neal used to give me all of his shoes because we had a similar foot size, Ron Artest used to give me hundred dollar tips to run upstairs and get him some nachos. I wore all of Stephen Jackson's headbands to school because I thought they made me look cool. While often the worst parts were getting yelled at by a visiting team's assistant trainer. 'CHAUNCEY GETS THE ORANGE GATORADE YOU IDIOT!"

I've seen guns, I've picked up more orders of Valtrex than I can count, I smoked weed with Trina and Mike Brown once screamed at me for falling asleep during a game.

One time I accidentally hit Chris Webber in the face with a chest pass and bloodied his nose. He legitimately cocked back to take a swing at me before Gerald Wallace intervened and taught me to make bounce passes during warm ups.

Because people always ask, Ron Artest was always the coolest guy. He was weird, yes, but he was a homie. He invited the ball boys over to his house in Zionsville to play basketball and swim. He also knew I was an aspiring rapper and played his music for me and asked me what I thought.

The biggest jerks were always the Eastern European guys, I imagine it's because they were the biggest superstars in their home countries and in America no one knew who they were.

I rebounded for Jordan, Shaq, Kobe and LeBron. Al Harrington had himself on his own fantasy basketball team and got double mad when he didn't play well, that always made me chuckle. Jonathan Bender would have been a superstar if his knee would have ever worked.

The Dale Davis rumor is true, I never saw Ron drinking before a game and David Harrison loved making me go into the crowd to get chicks' numbers.

If not for the 2004 Malice at the Palace, I'm convinced the Pacers would have won the NBA Championship and I would in turn have been given an NBA Championship ring, a fact I often gloated about, prompting my lacrosse coach to one time ask me if I would rather win state or win an NBA Championship ring. (We won state, the Pacers did not)

I look back on my time with the Pacers with both fondness and regret, similar to school and classes in college, I didn't realize how cool it was while it was happening. I would often call in a last minute sub so I could go drink in some high school kids basement and try to touch boobs. Now I would pay hundreds of dollars to get inside an NBA stadium, back then they were paying me to sit on the sidelines.

It's so strange that it all happened, it was a major part of who I was in high school, but now looking back it all feels like it was a dream. I suppose maybe it's because now at 30, I have been working for famous people over half of my life. I still keep it on my resume as a conversation starter. I spent 58 minutes of a one hour Target interview talking about Rik Smits with a Dutchman, I thought for SURE I would get that job. Other people have cut right to the chase and asked me who had the biggest dick.

I bring you these ruminations today because the NBA Finals are here and soon they will be gone and we will be nostalgic for 22 point blowout wins by the Warriors. If there is any lesson to be learned from this today it is to appreciate what you're doing at the time. I wish I would have paid attention in Spanish class in high school. I wish I wouldn't have sat in the back row during business law playing Brick Breaker, and I wish I wouldn't have dreaded working a Saturday night game because I could be in Wes Decatur's basement playing beer pong. I had a front seat to the game. I used to eat popcorn with Ron afterward and watch MTV Cribs.

Now in my current life I have a front row seat to see some of the coolest television shows get made and I always dread it. I could be doing so many other things, but you know what? Now that I think about it, it's kinda cool to see how the sausage gets made.

Lean into it

Situation: You just had a very good date with your new girlfriend.

Yes, she's dating a bunch of other guys, but she picked an activity that you are extremely good at: basketball.

While the rest of these clowns were struggling to dribble and shoot airballs with two hands you were literally dunking on their asses. There is no skill in all of sports more emasculating than dunking on someone smaller than you. Long pass? Who gives a shit? Sick one timer? Sounds Canadian. A two handed power dunk over a guy that wants your girl, WHILE SHE IS WATCHING? My God, it may be worse than finding your wife in bed with another man.

Suffice to say, if one were to participate in a basketball themed date and he were to dunk all over the competition, one would expect a rose.

I dunked two times in my entire life on a regulation 10 foot goal. Once was at the Chesterfield Country Club in St. Louis Missouri, Thanksgiving 2007. I was so cocky that night that I didn't even ask my parents if it was OK if I drank at dinner. I threw back maybe 8 glasses of wine while regaling my extended family with tales of the beautiful half windmill stuff.

The second time was three months later in Florence, Italy. I played a pick up game with kids from my study abroad program. We were up 20-18 when I found myself with the ball and an open lane, I took two steps and threw down a thunderous two handed jam that literally broke the rim. I went home with an Italian girl that night that just happened to be in the gym watching. She did not speak English, but she understood swagger.

The point I am making is if you can dunk, you can essentially do no wrong.

Or can you?

When DeMario was summoned back to the court by Lindsay on Monday night, he was of the mindset that he was about to get a rose. Instead he was blindsided with an ex-girlfriend.

Now we are going to go ahead and ignore the fact that his ex-girlfriend just happened to be hanging out at a Reseda high school gym that day and judge DeMario exclusively on his performance.

INT. SHITTY HIGH SCHOOL GYM IN THE VALLEY - DAY PROBABLY
DeMario walks into the gym oozing of so much swagger you would think this man just won the god damn NBA finals. He jolts to a stop when he sees someone from his past.

DEMARIO

Oh...oh, who is this?

DeMario slows his strut as he trips and stutters over his words. Trapped. Rachel is devastated, DeMario is lost, and this LEXI chick is basking in her fifteen minutes of fame.

I'll go ahead and stop the scene there. Because DeMario had already lost.

The moment a Bachelor producer had plucked a woman from DeMario's past, the situation was dire, but not necessarily inescapable. Surely, however, the 'I don't know who this is,' defense is not going to cut it.

DeMario quickly pivots to 'oh we dated,' and said horrendous lies like 'key is in the male.' HE LITERALLY USED THE BROKE DUDE CHECK IS IN THE MALE DEFENSE!!!!

Now to every woman reading this right now, this will strike you as classic fuck boy behavior. I'm sure you have heard them all, and let's face it, DeMario is a fuck boy. A fuck king if you will. An attractive tall black man (That can dunk!) living in the heavily white populated west side of Los Angeles doing corporate recruiting with a degree from FIDM. My God, you can't create that character in a writer's room.

Where DeMario failed though was not in his shady character, it was in his wavering confidence.

Let me write a new scene in which there is a happy ending for everyone.

INT. SHITTY HIGH SCHOOL GYM IN THE VALLEY - DAY PROBABLY

DeMario walks into the gym oozing of so much swagger you would think this man just won the god damn NBA finals. He jolts to a stop when he sees someone from his past. He smiles wide.

DEMARIO

Hey Lexi! How you been, whatcha doing here?

DeMario approaches Lexi and gives her a huge hug, then stops himself, embarassed.

 DEMARIO

Oh my gosh, how rude. Lexi, this is Rachel. I'm dating her on a reality television dating show called The Bachelorette. We're on a group date right now! Rachel this is Lexi, we used to fuck.

Rachel and Lexi look at each other dumbfounded. Lexi looks pleadingly at a producer who shrugs his shoulders.

RACHEL

Ummm, hi Lexi. What's going on?

LEXI

We weren't just fuck buddies DeMario. We've been hooking up for 6 months.

DEMARIO

Hell ya we have. We're both attractive young people living our life. Also we're dynamite in the sack. HIGH FIVE!

Lexi begrudgingly gives DeMario a high five.

RACHEL

So wait are you still dating?

LEXI

I thought so, I mean he has a key to my apartment.

DEMARIO

Well duh...is there anything worse than getting out of bed at 2 o clock in the morning to open the gate for your booty call? Keys cost like 99 cents to make at 7-11 now. I give them out like hotel keys. I gave the homeless guy in my alley a key to my place in case he ever wants to shower while I'm gone.

RACHEL

You gave the homeless guy in your alley the key to your apartment? So he can shower?

DEMARIO

Sure, the drought's over and when I'm at my white collar corporate job in Century City I'm not using the shower, someone oughta get some utility out of it!

RACHEL

That's actually kind of sweet...

Lexi whips out her phone.

LEXI

But wait, I have texts where he called me babe, up until last week.

RACHEL

Wait a second, you knew you were coming onto the show a week ago. I feel like I don't even know you right now DeMario...

DEMARIO

You don't! And truth be told I don't know you! Sure, I watched you on tv a lot. But I mean I watch Emilia Clarke a lot on Game of Thrones but like I don't really know her? You know what I'm saying?

RACHEL

I guess that makes sense...

DEMARIO

Hell ya it makes sense. And truth be told you are dating 31 guys right now. I was casually having sex with one. The odds are against me winning this competition, and I do like you Rachel and I want to see this process through, but to be completely honest if I lose I would like to continue having casual sex with Lexi, especially if she changes her hair cut.

LEXI

Dammit DeMario! You can't be so cool and mellow about this, these are real feelings.

DEMARIO

Lexi, where did we meet...

LEXI

On Tinder...

DEMARIO

 And what did my bio say?

LEXI

Six foot four, a Buzzfeed quiz told me I'm 94% a fuckboy.

RACHEL

Wait, I don't want to date a fuck boy...

DEMARIO

I'm not reeeeeally a fuck boy, I'm just self aware, it's 2017. It's fun to lean into things. Play into your own stereotypes a little bit, ya know what I'm saying? Kinda like how Kevin Owens is a bully on twitter but probably cool in real life, he's just playing up the heel persona.

RACHEL

You lost me...

DEMARIO

Lexi and I were homies that had sex. We didn't live together, we were not boyfriend/girlfriend. We Netflix and Chilled together in a big fun city, nothing more nothing less. Would you say that is a fair assessment Lexi?

LEXI

I suppose.

DEMARIO

Great, I'm glad we cleared that up. Are we all good here Rachel? I told Lee I was going to help him with his jump shot before we got outta here.

RACHEL

I think so?

DEMARIO

Great, it was wonderful to see you Lexi.

DeMario struts back to the locker room with even more swagger than before.

RACHEL

Was the sex really that good?

LEXI

Dynamite.

FADE OUT.

See what we have here is the old irrational confidence play. It's why JR Smith can take over a playoff game, it's why guys on Bumble will ask for nudes at 2 o clock in the morning even though they know there is a good chance you will screen shot it and throw it up on Instagram.

Why are male rompers a thing? Why is boob luging a fad?

Because as long as there are bros out there with absolutely no shame, there are women who will be slightly into it. Now I'm not excusing said behavior, but if you are going to be a fuck boy, BE A FUCK BOY, none of this half ass shit that got DeMario booted last week.

ELSEWHERE IN THE EPISODE...

Peter and Rachel talked about their gap teeth in Palm Springs and I realized that the private plane date >>>>>>> the helicopter date. You never see people getting drunk in helicopters but you certainly could imagine a scenario in which Rachel and Peter had sex on the way home from that Bark Box party at 20,000 feet in front of Rachel's three legged dog. By the way, how do my readers feel about hooking up in front of animals? I am V against it.

AND ALSO...

Mila Kunis and Ashton Kutcher stopped by to do a diaper changing olympics or something. I don't know, it was stupid. I did find out though that Venice Dean is connected to 13 of my friends on Linkedin, yet when asked for comment not a single one of them know who he actually is. Sus.

No rose ceremony this week, it's pretty early for ABC to start screwing with format, unfortunately I think we have a boring season ahead of us. See y'all next week.

The 7 times in life you can wear a male romper

Since the beginning of time, there have been assholes.

That is why boat shoes exist, that is why male 5 inch inseam shorts exist, it is why certain shades of the color pink exist, and of course it is why Fiji exists.

Every person that ever joined a fraternity or threw on a pair of jean shorts ironically did it for one reason: to be an asshole.

Sure there are other reasons to do these things, they're fun, they're silly, but the root of it is "I want to look like a rich dick that doesn't have a care in the world."

I know this because I am an asshole. My 'on this day' in Facebook reminds me of this every day. Let's look at today May 19th.

First picture: Me shotgunning a beer with three hot chicks! I'm wearing a Michigan MBA shirt even though I didn't go to Michigan. Also, this is an overhead shot, that means I made someone climb a flight of stairs and choreograph this photo shoot. What a dick!



The next photo is of me wearing a pink polo shirt and a white backwards Lacoste hat. Classic frat look! But you know what? I'm going to tell you a little secret about my obsession with the color pink. I don't really love it that much, I just love what it says about me. "YES I CAN PULL OFF PINK ALSO I'M GRADUATING COLLEGE WITHOUT DEBT, SUCK IT!"

So all this said; I get it.

I understand why male rompers are a thing.

It's because there are a lot of kids on the east coast, the Midwest and at USC  that have trust funds overflowing with more cash than they know what to do with. Dressing like an idiot has always been fun, that's why costume parties exist, but only a true asshole can throw several hundred dollars at something he will likely only wear once and then shove it in the back of his closet with his Kappa Kapture and Tri Delt Arrest shirts.

Every year there is a onesie bar crawl in Hermosa and while most people buy a 15 dollar piece of shit from Target there is a small subset of people that will drive to Beverly Hills and get a $400 onesie from 'The Onesie Store.' This is the world we live in and it's why LaVar Ball's stupid shoes were a hit and it's why these guys already bought millions of dollars of free press and why these BROmpers will be backordered until Homecoming.

If we are willing to accept that Romphim's will become a thing, the next logical leap is to try to define when it might be socially acceptable to wear one. Fortunately, I've had a lot of time to think about this, and I believe I've figured it out.

A Random Friday Night
So let's say there is like a poorly planned Bachelor party and you have 10 homies in LA, but like the groom's half step brother did a terrible job and didn't get you guys a reservation for dinner, didn't call ahead to get a table at a bar and didn't even organize a pregame. (Go ahead and let your brother be your best man if you must, but let your best friend plan the bachelor party)

So now you're at an apartment calling Chin Chin on Sunset seeing how quickly they can seat a group of 10 and you're thinking to yourself, Jesus this is the worst Bachelor party ever...until that is, you remember that you have TEN MALE ROMPERS. You issue one to each of your friends, even though they protest. You look like absolute buffoons, but you demand that everyone wear one anyway. You get to Chin Chin and the host is so confused that he seats you right away. To dress so hip and gender fluid there must be a celebrity among you. The chef comps two bottles of Sake and you guys are well on your way to getting shitfaced. After dinner you head down the street and are able to talk your way into Soho House. Your night ends when a female in a romper asks you if you want to go back to her place and talk about how practical rompers are as clothing.

A Random Saturday
So let's say it's the day after the poorly planned Bachelor party. You wake up in bed at girl romper's house and struggle to figure out a way to pee in the morning because you are still wearing your male romper. You get a phone call from a friend who is at a pool party at The Standard Hotel in downtown LA. He just ordered a bottle and he needs you to help him come drink it.

"I'll be there in a couple hours, I need to head home and change out of this male romper," you say.

"No way man, you need to be here in 20 minutes or I'm calling someone else."

So anyway, you decide you don't want to miss out and order an Uber to the Standard. On the way your Pakistani driver tries to figure out if you are trans or not. He keeps saying 'no I mean it's cool that you like to dress like a girl, you just don't seem like the type.' You aren't sure if that is offensive or not so you bite your lip and finally arrive at the hotel. There is a massive line to get to the pool party but you sheepishly walk up to the doorman and say, 'hey my friend has a table...' This never works, but when he sees your attire he assumes you are not one to be trifled with and sends you right up. Your buddy and the girls can't believe that you arrived unshowered and in a male romper, but one of them is so impressed with your confidence that she decides that it's fate and that the four of you must get a room for the night and party at the hotel all day. Fun ensues.

A Random Sunday
So let's say you were to wake up in The Standard Hotel in LA and realized that you were laying in a queen sized bed with your buddy and 2 chicks even though there was a second Queen sized bed in the room when an alarm on your phone goes off.

"WEDDING TODAY AT NOON"

Fuck! You forgot that you had a wedding today in Silverlake! Who gets married on a Sunday? The girl must have poor parents. You glance at your watch and realize it's 11:30 and Silverlake is about a 15 minute uber away, you'll never make it.

But...it is the East Side. And girls wear dresses to weddings. And rompers are kinda like dresses.  And the wedding is in a park with a recovering heroin addict who was certified online officiating. FUCK IT WEAR THE ROMPER.

So you get to the wedding and there are of course a few chuckles but then the groom's mother compliments you on how fashion forward you are. she tells you about how it was always her dream to go to FIDM but then she got knocked up after a crazy party in the hills and decided to marry the guy because he was a wealthy producer. This makes you feel weird because this is your buddy's mom, but then she introduces you to her niece 'an artist.

The niece is extremely unimpressed with you at first because she knows 'guys like you.' But when you begin to tell her the story and how it is all a strange coincidence that this went down and if YOU would have been in charge of planning the original bachelor party none of this would have happened blah blah blah...she starts saying things like it was written in the stars, she accuses you of being a Leo and even though you are an Aquarius you just go with it. You start making out at the reception at Los Globos and guess what, you aren't going to make it home tonight either.

A Random Monday
So let's say you woke up in an Echo Park studio on a pullout couch with your buddy's cousin and you realize you don't have time to shower or change before work. You've been wearing this romper for four fucking days now, but I guess it's worked out so far.

You get to work and your social justice warrior boss incorrectly thinks that you are wearing this new look to speak out against injustice on those who are marginalized. You just go ahead and roll with it. Ya, and also because I like the pockets, you think to yourself.

All your coworkers sneer at you because they can tell from your smell that you are actually wearing this because you got drunk in it yesterday and never made it home, alas your boss invites you to a film premiere with her that night. Your boss is kinda hot but she's 40, divorced and has a child. After the premiere you go back to her place in the hills and hook. It's super weird, but she tells you before bed that she is leaving town in the morning and that you don't have to go into the office the rest of the week.

Big win.

A Random Tuesday
 So let's say you woke up in a Hollywood Hills castle after having sex with your boss and didn't have to work the rest of the week. You ubered back to Venice where you would finally get to take off this God Forsaken romper but you get a call from your buddy that works at Google and he tells you he rented a boat and it's leaving the Marina in 20 minutes. With no time to change you divert your driver to dock 52 in Marina Del Rey and proceed to party on a boat all day.

No one on the boat looks at you funny because they are all totally rich dicks that probably own multiple male rompers as well. You have a good time, but the renter of the boat drunkenly demands the captain take you to Catalina. When you come out of your blackout, there is a group of 12 of you checking into a hotel on Catalina Island. You are never going to home.

A Random Wednesday
So let's say you woke up on Catalina Island in a hotel and there was a note from your buddy on the bedside table. "Sorry had to get back for work, here's a hundred bucks to get home."

You walk into Avalon admiring the sights and eventually find a ferry going to Newport. You figure you can call an uber or rent a car when you get there.

Upon arriving in Newport you are spotted by a bunch of bros on vacation. And guess what! They are all wearing male rompers too. They insist you join them on a bar crawl up Balboa Island. You don't really have anything better to do or have a ride back to LA, so you say fuck it.

You have 17 margaritas at Baja Sharkeez and at least 7 servings of chips and salsa. You end up at a karaoke bar with your new friends and your last memory is singing 'You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin' on a stage with 8 grown men...all wearing rompers.

A Random Thursday
So let's say you woke up on a couch in Culver City. Wait what? How did we get to Culver City?

"I drove. Oops!" It's one of the guys from the bar crawl in Newport. You scold him for driving drunk, he apologizes, says he was feeling overly confident because of the romper. You understand.

You are finally able to get an Uber back to Venice. You walk in your apartment and your roommates are shocked to see you alive, they haven't heard from you since the botched Bachelor party on night one.

"Where the fuck have you been?" One asks.

Um, I suppose I had a bit of an adventure...

"In that?!?"

He doesn't get it because he's a GDI from Tennessee.

"Uh, I'm gonna go to bed..."

"Nonsense, it's the first pier concert tonight in Santa Monica, we're starting the pregame now. Also we're all dressing like idiots tonight."   

God Dammit...

Ran Away to the Top of the World Today

I'm not sure why people deliver bad news on a Friday...

There is the joke in Office Space that firing people on a Friday makes it less likely that an 'incident' will occur. But I disagree. Because by firing someone on a Friday you not only take away their job, you commit the treacherous act of ruining their weekend.

Honestly, if I'm dreading an email or a voicemail that I receive on a Friday, I just won't look at it until Monday thus creating a Schrodinger's cat situation. My life is simultaneously fine and in shambles, allowing me to get drunk with my friends without the chance of remembering some terrible news and becoming sad.

Almost all corporations dump bad news on Friday.

The TV show that I was supposed to write on got scrapped on a Friday and then this past Friday I got some more upsetting news, mere hours before I was scheduled to leave for Vegas. For the love of God, will you people let me live? Monday is going to be shit regardless, at least afford me a few hours of bliss before wrecking this illusion of happiness I have built.

Alas, on Monday I refused to get out of bed. Tuesday I crawled to the couch and watched some Netflix. But on Wednesday I woke up, took a shower and decided that I was going to climb a fucking mountain.

This is that story.

I have always been very impulsive. I used to make my mom drive me two towns over at 9pm because I decided I MUST have a haircut before school the following day and there was a barbershop in Fishers open until 10. I often get in my car and start driving without a destination in mind. It's an exciting characteristic to have, but also somewhat dangerous.

When I woke up on Wednesday and decided that I was going to climb Mt. Baldy, it was likely a foolhardy one. Two professional climbers died there just last week and I was going to jump in my car with no map, no plan, no gear and like 20 bucks.

The amount of research I had done was negligible. All I saw was "12 miles" and "extremely strenuous" and I decided I could probably do it. I base all of my 'could I do this' on the fact that I was an extremely good athlete when I was 12. I was on the best basketball, soccer and baseball teams in the city. Now despite that this was nearly two decades ago I do things like wake up and think 'maybe I'll try to run a marathon today.'

I arrived at the Manker Flats campground around noon. I had some ill fitting hiking boots, four smart waters, a turkey sandwich and some sun tan lotion. As ready as I was every going to be I set off for the San Antonio Falls trailhead.

There were supposed to be maps in that box. There were not.

After a brief jaunt toward the falls and up a paved road, I found The Baldy Bowl trail. Baldy Bowl is a 10 mile out and back trail with an elevation gain of 4,000 feet. Again, I really had nothing to measure this by as the only time I ever really hike in LA is when I want a cheap date.

The first two miles up the Baldy Bowl are steep but consistent. The trail wraps through Angeles National Forest. The path is mostly dirt with some rocks and it is quite narrow. I imagine someone with a heights affliction would not enjoy it much.  Due to the waterfall below, lots of condensation rises to meet the path, the first mile of the hike is legit through a cloud.

San Antonio Falls

After a couple miles or so, the terrain got quite a bit more vigorous as I approached the ski hut. The trail is quite tough to follow, but fortunately for me there were a few hikers out on the path so I was able to follow them a bit as to not get lost and die alone in the woods.

At about the two hour mark I arrived at the ski hut, a shelter built by back country mountaineers in the 1930's. There are picnic tables to enjoy a lunch, a hut with cots to take a rest, natural spring water and a very convenient outhouse...all at 8'300 feet. I decided to have my pitiful lunch and prepare for the final 2000' climb.

The next portion of the trail progresses over some very rocky terrain as you make your way toward a ridge that will lead you to the summit. By now I was realizing that I had probably bit off a bit more than I could chew, but I was inspired by retirees that I saw on the path. I stopped and chatted with a few of them. Many were concerned about my lack of trekking sticks or a coat, or a map, or a GPS. Several insinuated it might be best if I turned around but as I shared the purpose of my mission they cheered me on.

When bad things happen in life, it's easy to get sad...to wallow in misery and contemplate if the world is conspiring against you. I cannot control certain external forces in my life, how someone feels about me, how I am perceived, but I can control my body. At this juncture in my life it is one of the few things that I have absolute dominion over, so despite the pain I may feel, every step I take is a small victory in my mind.

Once across the ridge there is a deep forest section in which one would expect lots of switchbacks but this is not the case. Instead a brutal 40 degree incline awaits. I took many breaks, sometimes to admire the scenery, sometimes to make sure my heart was not on the verge of exploding.

 

Fortunately, this is the part of the hike that it begins to warm up a bit as I finally peaked through the clouds.

That was short lived though as once you reach the treeline there is once last mile up a rocky ridge, I've never moved slower in my life.

View before the final climb

I had planned to take the Devil's backbone trail down the mountain after my summit, but I met some locals on my last jaunt to the top and they strongly advised against it due to high winds and my lack of gear. Devil's backbone is an exposed ridge only about 4 feet wide with perilous drops on either side, this is where most people that hike baldy meet their demise. I was happy to take the strangers' advice.

Around 3:30 I reached the summit of Mt. San Antonio. Exhausted I collapsed onto a little rock hut and took a well deserved nap.

 

 At 10,000 feet it was quite cold and windy, but I did have time to snap a few photos.

I promise on this next one the blue steel was quite unintentional.

 

Shout out to this homie for keeping me company during my nap in my rock fort.



His name was Chip and we kicked it for a solid 20 minutes before I headed down.

I saw a few people heading down when I was on the way up and they warned me that going down might be tougher than ascending.

I figured this might be due to fatigue or the physical muscles in our legs used for descending are rarely used and thus much weaker, but what I found to be the most difficult part of the climb down was keeping the trail. I became lost many times and if it weren't for some hero with a spray paint can I would surely be stuck on Baldy Ridge at this moment.

Life savers

I made it back to base camp around 5:30 and though I had planned to camp and spend the night I realized that I had enough energy to drive home and after a 10 mile hike I might be best off spending the night in a bed.

 

One last stop on the way out of town though, the Mt. Baldy lodge. I cannot recommend this place enough, great atmosphere, delicious IPAs and a small town vibe. Mt Baldy as a village is actually very much like a tiny Big Bear. There are beautiful log cabin mansions and a fun local isolated mountain feel. I can't wait to go back on a summer weekend.



As a final note, I would urge those who are going through a tough time to focus on the positive. We're young and capable and there is a large world out there. Physical achievements will always make you feel better about yourself and in the grand scheme of things, I'm probably not going to remember years from now the time something shitty happened at work, but I will never forget this Baldy panoramic. Cheers and thanks for reading!


 

Master of One

I've never viewed a scene in television or film that hit me like the last five minutes of Master of None's 'The Dinner Party."

Viewing in my bed, I touched the screen of my iPad assuming the credits were about to roll, but I was wrong. There were five full minutes left.

I didn't understand, the episode had reached its logical conclusion. The taxi door closed, the girl was gone. Sure the character of Dev was already replaying in his head everything that happened that night, different choices he could have made that could have led to different outcomes; but the cab was moving, the night was over. It wasn't until about 30 seconds in that I realized, 'my God, they are going to show us his entire cab ride home as he sits in contemplative silence, with a ping of regret washing over him.'

This is why Master of None is the best show currently on television. It has finally figured out a way to portray our generation's experience without being insufferable.

Full disclosure, I expected to hate Master of None. I was never a huge fan of Human Giant and I found Aziz's most famous character of Tom Haverford on Parks and Rec to be a little too 'extra' (that's what the kids say now, right?) Add that to the fact that Master of None is another show that glamorizes New York in an unrealistic way and I fully expected this to be another Girls rip-off with a slightly more likable and diverse cast.

I've never been more thrilled to be wrong.

The first season of Master of None (Co-created by Ansari and Alan Yang) focused on the lives of a diverse group of moderately successful thirtysomethings in New York City, an exhaustingly familiar premise. But while the show did focus on the pangs of getting older and navigating relationships, it was often at its best when it did something completely different, famously displayed in the episode 'parents' in which Dev and a fellow first generation American have their lives juxtaposed against their immigrant parents. It is fantastic.

The second season (so far, I'm only through episode six) has focused more on the uncertainty of growing up, but while a similar set show like the dearly departed Girls might seem whiny, Master of None does a wonderful job at conveying these same emotions in the moments of silence.

It is hard to discuss feelings. Dating is awkward. It is difficult to reconcile career ambitions with creative fulfillment.

Season 2 opens in a gorgeously shot episode in Italy, displayed in black and white entitled "The Thief" an obvious homage to Vittorio De Sica's classic 'Bicycle Thieves.' That's just not something a season 2 show could traditionally do until the advent of streaming services. Sure Sunny has experimented with some weirdness lately, gimmicky episodes were no stranger to the family sitcoms of the 90's, but the idea of the 11th episode of a series deciding to say 'FUCK IT' and go shoot two episodes in a small Italian village show the the risks that the show is willing to take.

The show still has flaws. Everyone magically has enough money to live in a roomy loft in Manhattan, people seem to go out on four hour, three location dates every night. That's not my New York experience. I am accustomed to sleeping on an air mattress in the laundry room and drinking 40's out of brown bags in Union Square.

But the show is grounded. Instead of something like Broad City that is screaming at you GIRLS ARE JUST AS GROSS AS GUYS this show will put forth a similar message with enhanced subtlety: the Tindering at dinner, the jar of condoms on the bedside table, the Indian girl that wanted to talk about Summer Slam and Mortal Kombat Annihlation all night!! These are characters sure, but I know them in my real life.

There is a jarring scene early in the second season's run that features a quote from Sylvia Plath in which she discusses a fig tree as a metaphor for life's decisions. I'll paraphrase but every branch of the tree was a different life she could have lived, and while she wanted them all simultaneously, certain paths or branches died off.

I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked..."

We can't have every possible future that could have awaited us, but that will never stop us from wondering what could have been?

The existential crisis plaguing Dev at the season's halfway point is one I am all too familiar with. He's developed feelings for someone that maybe he shouldn't, so what does he do? Does he complain about it to his diverse collection of friends? Or does he tell her the truth?

I dunno man, I guess this is growing up.

Blink 182 vs. The Killers

"I know I should be thinking about Mum all the time, and I am. But the truth is, I'm in love..."

These are the words of tiny Jojen Reed in the movie 'Love Actually' discussing that despite the fact that his mom just died, all he can think about is hooking up with the cute ethnically ambiguous girl in class.

This is kind of how I feel about the state of the country right now. I care. I really do. I care about health care and Russia and all that shit, but the truth is I just care about something else MORE than the state of our country...

The Friday night slot of Lollapalooza.

Yes, the biggest decision facing Millenials this year is not job related, it has nothing to do with wedding venue, it is completely apolitical. The largest choice awaiting you my friends is which end of Grant Park to stand on at 8 o clock on August 4th.

Hi, I'm Dave and I'm a huge fan of Blink 182.

I'm also Dave, and I ride for The Killers.

In the next couple thousand words or so we'll break down the pros and cons of each band and hopefully help you make a decision on which group to check out at Lolla...

...but honestly you'll probably be so gonged out of your mind by 8pm that you'll just want to go to the Perry's tent and look at a bunch of strobelights.

Focus Dave!

Sorry.

Ok let's start with the tale of the tape.

Blink 182
Origin: Poway, CA 1992
Genre: Pop Punk
Studio Albums: 7; 2 number ones
Top 10 Singles: 1 (US Alt: 14)
Fun Fact: I once went streaking at a Blink 182 show

The Killers
Origin: Las Vegas, NV 2001
Genre: Alternative Rock
Studio Albums: 4
Top 10 Singles: 1 (US Alt: 8)
Fun Fact: I beat When You Were Young on expert in Guitar Hero 2 at 100%

Ok, I'm going to start things off here by asking why exactly we are comparing these bands? Sure there is some overlap as they both play in the alternative space, but one of these is a 90's California punk band, while the other is more of a new wave act out of Vegas in the aughts. 

Have you ever seen a white girl belt out the words to Mr. Brightside at a dive bar? Have you seen a 32 year old man scream 'WELL I GUESS THIS IS GROWING UP!" even though his parents had three children by the time they were his age?

Ok so what you're saying is we compare these bands because they both made music that was deeply important to upper middle class kids that were born in the 80's?

Yes.

Ok, I suppose that's fair. Go ahead and make your opening argument.

Thank you. I would like to open by saying that this is an absolutely indefensible failing by the Lollapalooza planning committee. How the fuck can you pit the two best rock bands of the past 20 years against each other. It's almost like the event planners wanted to upset the people that were in fraternities 10 years ago. Who gives a fuck about Arcade Fire? What is a Rae Sremmund. Are they the idiots that gave us those insufferable mannequin challenge videos?

First of all, calling Blink 182 and The Killers the two best rock bands of the last 20 years is...bold. Second, as much as it pains me to tell you this, Goldenvoice (or whoever promotes Lolla now) probably isn't concerned with the musical tastes of a 30something. In fact neither group has had a hit in 10 years, they're lucky to be getting headlining spots. Also: scheduling. Blink and The Killers didn't cancel their entire tours because some kid from California was visiting Chicago for the weekend.

How dare you disparage Blink and The Killers by insinuating they are washed up.

I didn't say...just make your case.

Fine. Hot Fuss is a perfect album and Blink 182 is only 2/3 of a band now that Tom left. 100% of The Killers is better than 66.6% of Blink 182. The current incarnation of Blink 182 is basically a Blink 182 cover band.

That's ridiculous. Tom was a cancer and ruined half of the prime of a great American band by being a diva.

Without Tom we never get Angels and Airwaves and Box Car Racer.

Oh whatever, +44 was better than both of those bands and Blink has ALWAYS been Mark's band. Your campaign built on tearing me down is going to fail just like Hilary's did. You have to make the case FOR your group not against mine. As such, this is why one should go see Blink 182 on Friday instead of the killers. Blink 182 has 7 albums and 24 singles as well as over 25 years of material. They have gone platinum 10 times. Along with Green Day, they were the sound of an entire generation. Songs like 'Dammit' came to be the anthems of adolescents. The Killers had a couple fun albums.

Oh ya? How many times did Blink 182 play on the OC?

Oh whatever, they played season 2. I forget is that when Marissa was going through her lesbian phase or when she shot Ryan's brother?

I think both of those happened season 2...

See you don't even remember. OC performance invalid.

Fine. While I will concede that Blink 182 has a longer history than The Killers, I would argue that The Killers are more prolific churning out 30 singles in just 4 albums and 16 years. That means they have a higher batting average than your beloved California punks, and I would reiterate that on all 30 of those singles you will hear THE ORIGINAL VOCALIST. Mark was just one of the two lead singers of Blink 182. Seeing Blink now would be like going to an Eagles show after the death of Gelnn Frey.

Whoa too soon man. And enough of this original lead singer garbage. Have you seen Journey lately? That little Filipino kid is arguably better than Steve Perry. Furthermore, what is your obsession with singles? Don't you appreciate a good deep cut? You know what song wasn't ever a single? RECKLESS ABANDON. That song fucks. Even your beloved Killers had Jenny was a Friend of Mine. Also not a single.

That is fair criticism. So let's throw out singles. I'm assuming that means we can throw out chart performance too?

Oh I see you want to conveniently slide past the fact that Blink has two number one albums and The Killers have precisely zero.

Hey you can't have it both ways. Singles are an exercise in mainstream popularity, one could argue commercial performance is as well.

Fine. We'll throw out sales, charts and awards.

Oh? You want to set aside The Killers' SEVEN Grammy nominations vs Blink 182's ONE?

They both have zero wins. Also awards are bought and paid for by labels, awards aren't very punk.

Well if we can't argue about sales, chart performance or awards...what is left?

Make your best 12 song set list...10 and a 2 song encore, that's probably about the length of a Lolla spot, right?

Easy. Hot Fuss...all 11 songs of it. And then When You Were Young.

That's bullshit. You can't use a gimmick. 'Killers play Hot Fuss' will grab headlines.

You're just jealous because Brandon Flowers is the most captivating front man in music and Mark is just an old man now.

Brandon Flowers is a Mormon and therefore not a rock star. I like my lead singers to drink alcohol and have premarital sex.

That's a low blow. But fine, if I can't just play Hot Fuss I'll do something like this...

1. Jenny was a Friend of Mine
2. Somebody Told Me
3. Read My Mind
4. Smile Like You Mean It
5. Glamorous Indie Rock and Roll
6. Human
7. Runaways
8. On Top
9. Spaceman
10. Mr. Brightside

Encore
11. When You Were Young
12. All These Things That I Have Done

Wow, I did get a little hard for those last 3. You started and ended very strong, but I think you were trying too hard in the middle. Lots of Day and Age. A non-single from Hot Fuss. You're all over the place.

You think you can do better?

What's My Age Again, Dick Lips, Untitled, Voyeur, Pathetic, Adam's Song, Peggy Sue, Wendy Clear, Carousel, All The Small Things, Mutt, Dammit, Man Overboard.

That is literally just the last 12 songs of their live album The Enema Strikes Back. 

Nice, I was just testing you. Here we go.

1. Anthem
2. The Rock Show
3. What's My Age Again
4. Adam's Song
5. Stay Together for the Kids
6. All the Small Things
7. Man Overboard
8. First Date
9. I Miss You
10. Dammit

11.  Feelin This
12. Reckless Abandon

That is strong. I mean nothing from the last two albums but strong.

Bask in it.

That was not an admission of failure, I just said that was a concert I would see.

So how are we going to determine a winner?

Well the hotter chicks will be at The Killers. We can agree on that right? The last time Blink had a real hit was 2004.

I concede that there will probably be hotter chicks at The Killers.

OK so that's a win for me, right?

Wait a second.

Wut?

So DJ Snake ALSO plays at 8:30 on Friday night. Right?

Right.

And Bieber begins his worldwide tour August 5th in Los Angeles. Right?

So you are suggesting that we go to the DJ Snake set on the off chance that Bieber comes out and does a couple songs IN CHICAGO on the eve of his world tour?

Ya.

Fuck ya, I'm in.