When It's Your Turn to Speak, DON'T!

When it's your turn to speak, DON'T!

Until you read the list below.

Gleaned from my over 30 years of avoiding public speaking,  here are:

Twenty Essential Rules for Outstanding Public Speaking Even You Can't Screw Up

1)  Show up. 

2)  Bring own scotch.

3)  Prepare!  Prepare !  Prepare!  To Die! To Die! To Die! 

4)  Imagine you are Morgan Freeman. 

5) Suck up shamelessly to the meeting host, especially if the host is me.

6) Mingle with the audience and attempt to learn issues relevant to the group to incorporate into your presentation. Also try to connect with some undiscriminating hottie.

7) Keep in mind audience members are on your side and want you to do well. Except for the ones who don’t.

8) Don't shout "Turkey Neck, Turkey Neck" to audience members who look like Mitch McConnell. 

9) Exhibit excellent posture. If audience members begin shouting  "Esmeralda! Flee, Esmeralda!"  I'd look into it.

10) Actually be Morgan Freeman.

11) Open speech with amusing anecdote about leaden containment structures.

12)  Don't spit when you speak, but if you do, make sure to hit the fat guy in the second row.

13) Avoid corny cliches. That way your presentation will be out of this world!

14) Only speak in ancient Sumerian when discussing critical Best Practices points.

15) Avoid addressing B'nai B'rith group decked out in full Nazi regalia.

16) Don't respond to questions with "What do you think I look like – Wikipedia?"

17) Stop eating huge rind of gorgonzola cheese when coming to the conclusion.

18)  Although counter-intuitive, don't wrap up presentation with a pitch for Amway products.

19) Always leave 'em with the old soft shoe! 

20)  If you haven't already, check fly.  Zip up as appropriate

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You're Better Off, the More They Piss You Off

What's a Fella to Do?

In my early twenties I first noticed that some of my hair follicles were beginning to frolic and detour off the top of my head.

       

“This is the worst tragedy that could ever happen to anyone!” I cried, casually dismissing illness, natural disasters, and the end of the world as we know it.

Off I went to the dermatologist.

“You have the beginnings of male pattern baldness,” he told me casually.

In other words, a death sentence.  
 
“What can I do?!” I wailed.

“The best you can do,” he counseled “is develop a philosophic acceptance of the situation.”

Philosophical acceptance of the situation? 

Maybe the philosopher Plato could develop philosophic acceptance of the situation, but he spent most of his life in a cave anyway.

Since then I've been scouring the market for hair strengthening and thickening products, and I’ve got some advice for you about choosing the right stuff.

1) Always check the product label. Avoid hair admixtures described with gentle judicious wording like:

"Marginally Improves the Look of Thinning Hair a Tad Bit"

With namby-pamby wording like that, you’ll be lucky if you receive as much cosmetological assistance as a bad comb over.

2) Seek out products that honestly assess your specific hair condition and weaknesses.  For years I’ve used a product described as being:

"For Fine, Thin, Limp Hair"

Fine?          

Thin?   

 Limp?

The only adjective missing is “Appalling!”

But the stuff works.

3) The Moral?

The more insulting and offensive the product description, the more likely you are to get results.

So, always seek hair products labeled:

For Hair-Free Losers Like You!

Thickens Hair So Even You Might Score!

Just Buy This, You Bald Asshole!

Trust me. 

You’re Better Off, the More They Piss You Off.

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You Can Drink All the Liquor, Part II

 "Umm, I dunno.  Maybe we should reconsider ..."

"Okay, Brandon," I said, "it's settled! We're going to Tortuguero, Arenal, Monteverde, and Manuel Antonio, and that's set in stone, dude!"

"Great, Dad!" replied Brandon.  "It's ... umm .... been set in stone for over three months.  Why do we have to go over this again?"

"Because, Brandon, it isn't every day we go to Costa Rica, and we have to plan carefully." 

I might have added also it's because I am totally neurotic about almost any new experience except changing my socks, but some things pretty much go without saying. 

"There's many decisions about the trip," I pointed out to Bran, "that we've yet to make." 

"Like what, Dad?  We've picked the hotels, changed them two or three times, picked them again, re-routed our itinerary, temporarily considered Disneyworld as an alternative at your urging because the snakes there are animatronic, and booked  mini-golf in Monteverde with full deposit paid."   

"Oh, yeah?" I shot back. "We haven't yet selected where to have breakfast on Day 2 in Tortugero!"

"Dad, can't we leave breakfast to chance a couple of days?"

"Need I remind you, wiseguy, you said the same thing about picking the right gift shop for postcards at the airport!"

Now I don't know if many of you've had the opportunity to plan overseas travel, but it can get a bit complicated.  It does, however, provide a great opportunity to experience what it must be like to plan a Royal Wedding assuming you're never going to get a shot at sitting next to the Queen and actually writing out seating arrangements for Prince Charles and Camilla Parker Bowles yourself. 

Putting together a trip to a place like Costa Rica presents a classic case of TMI --- there's guidebooks, websites, videos on You-Tube, Facebook pages, forums, Great Events in Costa Rican History Connect-A-Dots, and a "Help Explorer Sam Find his Way to Tortuguero Without Being Eaten Alive," which no matter how often I try always winds me up inside the volcano in Arenal. We've been through two travel agencies, three tour operators, and multiple conversations with friends and acquaintances who've been to Costa Rica, including two doctors, a musical conductor, and two random people on Twitter who may well be psychopaths for all I know.   

"BTW, Brandon, I was checking Frommer's guide last night," I said, "and we may want to reconsider the hotel in Manuel Antonio."

"Why?  We already reconsidered it three or four times."

"Frommer thinks the wake-up service runs a good two to three minutes slow.  But, to be fair, Mr. and Mrs. Lance Fairchild from Ohio noted on the "Costa Rica-WOW!"  travel forum that they have among the best chocolate chip cookies on check-in in the entire Central Pacific Region!"

"Dad, I think the hotel will be fine.  Can we move on?"

"I'm not so sure.  I think we should get on Skype to the tour company and ask a few more questions."

"Dad, you've asked more questions over the past few months than somebody who put their life savings into the Facebook IPO.  And besides, some of your questions are kind of embarrassing."  

"Like what?"

"Like:  Are the alligators in Costa Rica anti-Semitic?"

I guess maybe Brandon's right after all.  Frankly, with all this excessive planning,  sometimes I'm starting to feel like we've already been to Costa Rica and back!

"All right, then, Bran,"  said I.  "We're finally done.  We're set in stone!"  

That is, almost. 

There's one more gift shop in the San Jose Airport whose post card selection I gotta check out!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Turner Classic Geezers

In Remembrance of the Great Robert Osborne 

Indeed I do love me my Turner Classic Movies (TCM)!

The great and even not-so-great films of the 30's, 40's, and early 50's speak to me in a language I can understand better than that of current film, especially since it's a language in which the actors' mouths are generally more full of bon mots than the genitalia and pubic hairs they are today.

And AHHHH!, the great actors of the period!  Harry Davenport, Edward Everett Horton,  Henry Stephenson, Guy Kibbee,  Jonathan Hale,  Henry O' Neill,  and so many, many more.   You know the names.

Nah, probably you don't!

I'm talking, of course, about the character actors, the folks you see all the time but usually see right through whenever you see them. These are the performers who typically played bosses, judges, doctors, politicians, and even passersby who give a lift to a hitch-hiking Bogart, help a fainting Ann Sheridan off the sidewalk and onto her feet,  or tell Ronald Reagan to get the hell out of the way, who does he think he is, the President of the United States?!!! 

We'll call these folk Turner Classic Geezers.

Funny thing about the movies of the 30's, 40's, and early 50's; any role for a character conceived of as sophisticated, accomplished, or even in minor authority had to be filled by an actor who was: 

1) white
2) male, and 
3) gray haired or balding, wearing a felt hat and often a double-breasted suit, and over 50 years old,  if not 60!  

Sure, the stars of these films are young.  But just look around at everyone else.  It's as if some cataclysmic disaster has destroyed everyone on earth under the age of 30 except Ray Milland and Ida Lupino! 

It was quite a different society back then.  Not only wasn't it a felony to be over 50,  it was thought that while younger people had all the fun, it was the oldsters who did all the heavy lifting. Other than the male character who's the love interest, even the most devoted film fan would be hard-pressed to find the professor, bank president, or Ambassador from the Court of St. James who wasn't a Turner Classic Geezer.

Imagine Clark Gable and Myrna Loy as two reporters in a 1930's movie going to visit the world's most renowned expert on economic development in South America.   Think that role is going to be played by Jean Harlow?

Nope, expect a Turner Classic Geezer. 

Now let's flick on HBO and catch the remake of the above movie starring Jake Gyllenhaal and Anne Hathaway and have a bit of fun.  In place of the young actor actually playing the South American expert, let's drop in a Turner Classic Geezer, someone like Henry Stephenson,  and ....  3, 2, 1, ACTION: 

Gyllenhaal: It's a pleasure to meet you, Professor.... What!!!?? There must be some mistake!  You don't have big boobs!

Hathaway: Why, Jake, even my smallish but well-exposed tits are larger!

Stephenson: Well you see, my young friends, I'm a man.   A man who's studied economic growth in this part of the world for over 40 years.

Gyllenhaal: But that would make you as old as my dad!  And my dad's too old to be in home movies!

 Of course much I as like these great older actors,  stereotypes of the time had their ill effects. Not only did they keep a diversity of character actors who were younger, female, of color, or Asian or other non-white nationality from finding work unless the role being cast called for a stereotype, they also played a role in helping to impede progress toward equality in society at large.

However,  those multiple limitations of the past have now given way to one great big fat limitation of the present.  These days an actor can be any flavor of the rainbow and still be readily hired as long as he or she ain't wearing a felt hat, a double-breasted suit, or a wrinkle or two below the eyes. 

So, it's with a fondness that's only slightly guilty that I flick on the good old geezers of days gone by.  Thank you for bringing 'em back, TCM.

"And for Turner Classic Geezers, I'm Robert Osborne!"  (RIP)

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Top to Bottom above ---  Got 'em all?  They're  Harry Davenport,  Edward Everett Horton,  Jean Harlow,  Henry Stephenson,  and Guy Kibbee.   If you didn't even get Jean Harlow, you don't deserve Turner Classic Movies!