I hate encores…


They bug me.  I don’t quite know why, but here are some thoughts:

  • I’ve already paid for my music.  Why should I have to clap for it?
  • How many encores will there be?  None?  One?  Two?  The uncertainty is stressful.
  • It fucks with my planning. Will the encore be the song I have been waiting to hear?  Will it be a song I don’t care about?  Should I leave early or should I wait?  Nobody knows.
  • The musicians know they are coming back on, the stage crew knows they are coming back on, and so does the audience.  Why keep up the pretense?
  • It activates my mean side and then disappoints it.  I start to hope that no one will clap and no one will cheer.  I want to see what will happen.  They’ve planned the encore, so will they do it anyway or will they limp away feeling unloved? Alas, that never happens.  Despite my stubborn efforts to remain seated and absolutely silent, no one follows my lead.

Instead, I respectfully suggest that musicians just perform until they are done and we can all go home.  No muss, no fuss.


The gnome in my drawer

Yes, I know that sounds dirty.  (It doesn’t?  That’s just me?  Oh well, forget I said it then.)

Anyhoo, every morning I take a shower, get dressed and brush my teeth.  And every morning this happens:


What is this mysterious amoeba-shaped stain, you ask?  I have no idea.  I have examined the situation.

Starting with the stain….Slide2

Must be toothpaste…right?

Then the bathroom vanity…


But there is no visible stain on the vanity.  Hmmm!

But it must be coming from the vanity.  There is no other explanation.

So I resort to contorting myself into this candy cane like shape to brush my teeth while ensuring that no part of my body goes anywhere near the vanity.


And still…


Then in desperation, I turn to science.  I begin to measure shit…


Okay, I really measured nothing, but when you are standing next to the sink, it ain’t that hard to estimate.

Fuck.  This is the only explanation…Slide1

A mischievous gnome who lives in my vanity drawer, lying in wait, to squirt stuff on me.

(Still not dirty?)

Men, step away from the bottle…

…the cologne bottle that is.  What is it with you guys?  You appear to be well-groomed, well educated.  Clearly you care about your general appearance.

You seem to have mastered the ability to do things that require at least some level of manual dexterity:

  • You carefully comb and gel your hair
  • You shower and shave
  • You tie shoes, ties, etc.
  • You iron or convince/pay someone else to

Yet, when it comes to putting on your cologne, something happens.  You either do not understand the purpose of cologne or you have no ability to properly apply it.  I really don’t know what happens?!?!?

But in case you have no idea what cologne should do, cologne should make you smell nice to those close to you – in a subtle way.  Those close to you should think you smell so good that they want to get closer.  They should think that you smell good, because you are who you are, not because they can name the brand of cologne you are wearing.

Cologne should not be perceptible from across Penn Station or throughout a train car.  It should not make those around you nauseous or cause their eyes to burn.

Now that we’ve covered that possibility, if you are perhaps incapable of operating the cologne bottle, just don’t do it.  A shower will suffice.  Or have your wives/girlfriends apply it for you.  Women for some reason rarely have this problem.

The world thanks you for listening.