(From Register-Pajaronian)
Whooo! It’s that time of year again! Time to put the brisket in the basket and let the horse out of the barn, baby! Time to body up in the paint and shank one from downtown!
Giving you an excuse once again to neglect your children between the Super Bowl and baseball season, it’s March Madness!
Sure, act like you don’t care. The numbers don’t lie, my friend. Studies have shown time and time again that up to $3 billion changes hands each year in betting on the NCAA basketball championships. Las Vegas casinos report seeing less than $100 million of that, which means the good old-fashioned office pool costs the American workingman more than Tom DeLay and Jeb Bush holding a referendum on gerrymandering at a Dubai massage parlor during tourist season. Experts say someone in your family has already made a wager on the tournament, and if it isn’t you, maybe you and your wife need to talk.
Of course, office pools are generally illegal, so if your boss hasn’t signed up, you’re going to want to be sure you don’t leave that envelope full of $20 bills and the list of participants just laying around on your desk. Sudden redistribution of capital makes The Man nervous.
Here at the R-P, a lot of that wealth is going to get redistributed to the Matt Farley Heat and Food Fund, a program started last year to help underprivileged editors live on the beach while evading their creditors, no matter what anyone says. See, I have an angle on this whole March Madness thing that simply can’t lose: I don’t follow basketball.
All these roundball fans get caught up in average minutes played and field goal percentages. While I understand the value of stats, it is possible that something could happen in a game without representing a new trend in the sport:
Commentator 1: "Well, Chris, the Crocs have never made it to the Big Dance when they were seeded greater than 4 and less than 9 when a point guard whose last name began with a vowel other than ‘A’ scored less than 7 points in the second round. I just don’t like their chances in this one."
Commentator 2: "Gotta disagree with you there, Steve. I think you’re forgetting about the ’87 squad. Jack Ericson put up just 5 points in the second round that year, and we all know how that turned out. But the question is, can Reshawn Ingalls break the Consonant Curse again this year, or will the Crocs be wrestled back into the swamp by the Voles’ strongman center Alex Tikimanuatu? That answer, and a lot of footage of sorority girls half your age, straight ahead."
Another problem I have with tracking stats is that there are roughly half a million college basketball teams in the country, and they let almost all of them into the tournament, and there are so many numbers to track that even the most enthusiastic fans don’t actually know what’s going on. Seriously, in real sports, a battle among 64 teams isn’t the playoffs, it’s opening day. Twice.
So, much like Barry Bonds in a press conference, I tried not to let the facts bog me down when I was making my picks this year. The first thing I considered is that most mascots in the NCAA are either wildcats or a guy with a big mustache, and I would select neither as long as I could help it. I’ve always thought teams at all levels needed more original mascots, and I’m still mad that the Jaguars and Panthers came into the NFL in the same season. It’s not enough to name a multi-million-dollar enterprise after a Little League team, you’ve got to do it twice in the same year using the same stupid mascot?
If I’m going to pick a team based on its mascot, it’s got to be original. The Boston College Eagles? Eh. The Wichita State Shockers? Oh hell yeah!
As you may know, I graduated from No. 5 seed Nevada. This presents an interesting philosophical question: Can I be totally disgusted with a school’s disastrous mismanagement and still cheer on its basketball program? I compromised and gave them an early win.
March Madness proves the inescapable fact that a man is capable of doing an amazing amount of work as long as it’s not the work he is supposed to be doing at the moment. For instance, if I had applied as much strategery to this column as I have into my brackets, I probably wouldn’t be blowing my deadline right now. Over at the sports desk, I can only trust that the guys are using the vast resources at their disposal to make their work better, not to figure out whom to pick in the Arkansas-Bucknell game. And behind office doors throughout the building, men in ties are furiously scribbling away, muttering, "OK, so Farley picked Nevada in the first round..."
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Tuesday, March 7, 2006
My husband acts like a man and other revelations
(From the Register-Pajaronian)
The sweetest gig around, aside from being married to Jessica Simpson, is being an advice columnist. True, the money and power are not as great as they might be in some other jobs, but in other jobs, you have to have skills and a work ethic, or at least charisma and nice abs.
Not so the advice business. Being an advice writer has all the advantages of being a writer (working in your pajamas, a built-in excuse for substance abuse) with none of the disadvantages (having to do research and give the impression of impartiality). All you do is go with the first thing that pops into your head, admonish the reader about selling themselves short and then point out a truism about human nature. Then you file your article and go find something else to do with the rest of your day.
If you're really good, you can combine the three ingredients in a single sentence. Observe: "It was wrong of you to be rude to your mother-in-law, but all people make mistakes .. even beautiful snowflakes like you." None of it actually means anything, but that's OK, because you're probably not qualified to be an actual life coach. What's important is that the readers can see realistic, complex questions neatly solved and feel good about it. Kind of like "Law & Order," except you can read it with breakfast.
Take this example from Tuesday's "Dear Abby:"
"The short story is, I slept with a married co-worker," writes "Confused and Ashamed in Minnesota." "I paid him to come to my house to hook up my computer, but when he arrived, everything but that happened." She notes that "he is a complicated mess" and that she is "confused by my need to be around this man." She closes by asking for help in "understand(ing) why I did this and com(ing) out of this with some self-respect."
These are all serious concerns. "Confused" clearly needs to work some things out, and anyone that helped her do that would be a hero. But that's not what Abby does, because the readers hate it when you tell them, "Dude, you really need to talk to someone." Believe me, I've tried it before.
Abby says "that kind of high can be intoxicating" (Sex can make you feel good? Shocking!), adding that "you didn't get what you really wanted and you know you sold yourself short. Rather than beating yourself up over this, use it to spur yourself into getting out and meeting eligible men." The solution is apparently not figuring out why you're drawn to unavailable guys; it's soldiering proudly on, emotional limp and all.
Then, just like Emeril Lagasse, Abby kicks it up a notch.
"If you paid him to hook up your computer and all you got was sex .. you know what that makes him." (Matt Farley..s hero, for one thing, but presumably something else, too.) "He owes you a refund, but don..t count on getting one."
Perfect. Abby seizes on the single least important aspect of the letter and makes it the big finish. Don..t worry that "Confused" sounds about as sophisticated as a 16-year-old when she talks about relationships. The important thing is that she gets her $20 back.
In light of all the second-rate guidance out there, I've decided to start giving my own advice. If anyone has questions about work, relationships, automotive repair, higher math, space travel or anything else, I'd be happy to pretend like I know what to do about it. Here's a sample, which I just made up, but could totally be real:
Dear Matt: Sometimes I feel like my boyfriend, "Ted" doesn..t care about what I have to say. When he comes home from work at night, I really like to talk to him about my day, including what I ate for lunch, how unreasonable my boss is and how my co-worker, "Missy," is trying to destroy me. I also like to talk about what we're going to have for dinner for at least 45 minutes and why he didn't answer his cell phone when I called this afternoon for at least 20. Sometimes while I'm speaking, his eyes roll back in his head and he locks himself in the bathroom. While I usually continue talking to him through the door, it makes me sad to think that he might not care about the chicken salad I had for lunch as much as I do. Is it just me, or is he being unfair?
PECKISH IN PAJARO
Dear Peckish: I get a lot of letters about this. Many men may give the impression that they would rather watch Monday Night Football than talk about their partners' co-workers, whom they have never met. However, with some open, honest discussion, you'll probably find that he just doesn't realize how interesting your day at the office was. I'd recommend waiting until Peyton Manning is winding up to throw a long pass, then getting between Ted and the TV before explaining what you'd eat for lunch if you had your boss' job. That will insure that you have his full attention. If Ted still won't listen, it may be time to consider seeing other people, such as newspaper writers.
......
Send your questions, confessions and love letters to mfarley@register-pajaronian.com.
The sweetest gig around, aside from being married to Jessica Simpson, is being an advice columnist. True, the money and power are not as great as they might be in some other jobs, but in other jobs, you have to have skills and a work ethic, or at least charisma and nice abs.
Not so the advice business. Being an advice writer has all the advantages of being a writer (working in your pajamas, a built-in excuse for substance abuse) with none of the disadvantages (having to do research and give the impression of impartiality). All you do is go with the first thing that pops into your head, admonish the reader about selling themselves short and then point out a truism about human nature. Then you file your article and go find something else to do with the rest of your day.
If you're really good, you can combine the three ingredients in a single sentence. Observe: "It was wrong of you to be rude to your mother-in-law, but all people make mistakes .. even beautiful snowflakes like you." None of it actually means anything, but that's OK, because you're probably not qualified to be an actual life coach. What's important is that the readers can see realistic, complex questions neatly solved and feel good about it. Kind of like "Law & Order," except you can read it with breakfast.
Take this example from Tuesday's "Dear Abby:"
"The short story is, I slept with a married co-worker," writes "Confused and Ashamed in Minnesota." "I paid him to come to my house to hook up my computer, but when he arrived, everything but that happened." She notes that "he is a complicated mess" and that she is "confused by my need to be around this man." She closes by asking for help in "understand(ing) why I did this and com(ing) out of this with some self-respect."
These are all serious concerns. "Confused" clearly needs to work some things out, and anyone that helped her do that would be a hero. But that's not what Abby does, because the readers hate it when you tell them, "Dude, you really need to talk to someone." Believe me, I've tried it before.
Abby says "that kind of high can be intoxicating" (Sex can make you feel good? Shocking!), adding that "you didn't get what you really wanted and you know you sold yourself short. Rather than beating yourself up over this, use it to spur yourself into getting out and meeting eligible men." The solution is apparently not figuring out why you're drawn to unavailable guys; it's soldiering proudly on, emotional limp and all.
Then, just like Emeril Lagasse, Abby kicks it up a notch.
"If you paid him to hook up your computer and all you got was sex .. you know what that makes him." (Matt Farley..s hero, for one thing, but presumably something else, too.) "He owes you a refund, but don..t count on getting one."
Perfect. Abby seizes on the single least important aspect of the letter and makes it the big finish. Don..t worry that "Confused" sounds about as sophisticated as a 16-year-old when she talks about relationships. The important thing is that she gets her $20 back.
In light of all the second-rate guidance out there, I've decided to start giving my own advice. If anyone has questions about work, relationships, automotive repair, higher math, space travel or anything else, I'd be happy to pretend like I know what to do about it. Here's a sample, which I just made up, but could totally be real:
Dear Matt: Sometimes I feel like my boyfriend, "Ted" doesn..t care about what I have to say. When he comes home from work at night, I really like to talk to him about my day, including what I ate for lunch, how unreasonable my boss is and how my co-worker, "Missy," is trying to destroy me. I also like to talk about what we're going to have for dinner for at least 45 minutes and why he didn't answer his cell phone when I called this afternoon for at least 20. Sometimes while I'm speaking, his eyes roll back in his head and he locks himself in the bathroom. While I usually continue talking to him through the door, it makes me sad to think that he might not care about the chicken salad I had for lunch as much as I do. Is it just me, or is he being unfair?
PECKISH IN PAJARO
Dear Peckish: I get a lot of letters about this. Many men may give the impression that they would rather watch Monday Night Football than talk about their partners' co-workers, whom they have never met. However, with some open, honest discussion, you'll probably find that he just doesn't realize how interesting your day at the office was. I'd recommend waiting until Peyton Manning is winding up to throw a long pass, then getting between Ted and the TV before explaining what you'd eat for lunch if you had your boss' job. That will insure that you have his full attention. If Ted still won't listen, it may be time to consider seeing other people, such as newspaper writers.
......
Send your questions, confessions and love letters to mfarley@register-pajaronian.com.
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