Running

Over the past year or so, I have become a jogger and I am still not exactly sure why. There are so many things to worry about while jogging that I often find myself distracted. This preoccupation is most likely the result of making mental notes when I notice idiosyncrasies in other joggers. Here are a few of the characteristics of jogging that I am concerned with:

First and foremost is arm positioning. Everyone knows that extraneous arm movement can cost you valuable stamina while running, so it is imperative that they remain as motionless as possible. Having no stamina to spare, I began constantly reminding myself to keep them as close to my body as possible in order to conserve energy. The result was that I was less winded than before, but I began to realize that my closely-tucked stationary extremities made me look like a T-Rex wearing an iPod.

To counteract this effect, I began allowing my arms to move more freely while being cautious to avoid “power pumping.” While this strategy was successful in minimizing my dino-arms, the effort necessary to regulate my upper-torso gyrations had an unintended side-effect: my thumbs. For whatever reason, I find my thumbs involuntarily pointing skyward while I jog. It is so conspicuous that I suspect that several of my neighbors have taken to calling me “The Fonz.”

At least, as far as I know, my form is passable from the neck up. I say that because there is one jogger in the area whose head appears dangerously under-supported during her morning run. It moves so violently from side to side that the first time I saw her I half-expected to see a Catholic priest in close pursuit.

Another important aspect of running is selecting the proper apparel. Being rather frugal, I have been unable to bring myself to purchase actual running clothes so I prefer a white T-shirt and a pair of appropriately fitting shorts. I specify appropriately, because there is a citizen of our town who insists on jogging with a pair of shorts that I can only assume were stolen from a Gap Kids display mannequin. The effect of such a statuesque man forcing himself into such inadequate fabric resembles a country ham wrapped in an Ace Bandage.

Perhaps my biggest issue is balance. Once, when I was jogging with my dog, when she ran in front of me and I fell face first onto my protruding thumbs. Like any self-respecting jogger, I jumped back to my feet and glanced around to see if anyone had witnessed the incident. Unfortunately, the Stanley Steamer carpet guy was servicing a house about fifteen feet from where I “ate it” and witnessed the entire event. I tried my best to give the impression that everything was under control (as if I routinely yelp uncontrollably just before intentionally tossing myself onto the sidewalk) but I don’t think he bought it.

I have several friends who compete in 5K’s and half-marathons and have encouraged me to take part. I fear, however, that it would take all my willpower and muscle strength to complete such an endeavor leaving me with nothing to control my bodily functions. I can see myself laboring across the finish line and collapsing in a heap just as my bowels give way.

Having watched a few marathons on TV, I am also fascinated by the method that the participants use to procure water from the crowd. Apparently the spectators simply extend cups or water bottles over the barrier and you grab them as you zoom by. With my luck I would snatch a water bottle from someone’s hand only to find out later that I had simply robbed an elderly man there to see his grandson. Also, is it rude to discard a bottle that you snatch if the seal has been broken and it appears to have already been severely back-washed?

Rep Your Fetus

It has recently come to my attention that I missed yet another career opportunity: celebrity fetal representation. Why wait until your little A-list bundle of joy is post-natal before you secure their media image? Reality star Shayne Lamas is not taking any chances with the seven-month old fetus she plans to name “Press.” Lamas, who came to prominence after being chosen in season 12 of The Bachelor, later ditched her on-screen love for the founder of online celebrity gossip/unauthorized nudity site thedirty.com.

Shayne Lamas

The couple has reportedly been in talks with a celebrity management company named The Z Group, who has offered to represent the Lamas zygote even though it has not yet been born. The contract apparently grants the Z Group 15% of the child’s future entertainment business revenue. There has been no word yet on whether the parents have preemptively hired a private security firm to protect little “Press” from inevitable school yard beatings he/she will be subjected to.

Being unfamiliar with Shayne Lamas and hoping to understand her pioneering spirit, I did a little research and stumbled upon her personal website where I discovered the greatest celebrity bio ever. A few excerpts:

The vivacious, Latin blonde former star of “General Hospital” and an elite member of Hollywood royalty is more than just a pretty face. Born in Malibu, California Shayne is the middle of three children born with the talent gene. When she isn’t filming a new movie, dropping jaws on the red carpet or shooting her reality series, Lamas loves traveling to islands all over the world.

This Fall, she is set to star in her own E! Entertainment Network reality television program, “The Lamas Family,” continuing to captivate audiences across the nation with her versatile and talented background as an actress, designer and philanthropist. Camera crews will follow her gifted family of talented actors and musicians throughout their various ordeals and triumphs, led by Shayne herself. Shayne Dahl Lamas is Hollywood Royalty that is wearing the crowns of actress, fashionista, designer, humanitarian and star as the stunning lead in E!’s most buzzed about forthcoming series.

Her computer’s thesaurus function must have soiled itself halfway through typing up this masterpiece. If there was a drinking game where participants had to take a shot every time Lamas described herself as physically attractive, it would make Octoberfest look like an A.A. meeting in a Baptist sanctuary. And I believe that the term “elite member of Hollywood Royalty” may be pushing it a bit when IMDB lists your most well-known roles as “Volleyball Bikini Girl” and “Poker Babe #1.”

For those unconvinced of her starlet status, she elaborates on her legendary film roles:

In the Star Wars geek parody, FANBOYS¸ Lamas plays a gorgeous beauty who can’t help but taunt the geeks who pine after her.

ENDLESS BUMMER, out in theaters this summer, is another role that showcases Lamas’s beauty.

In all fairness, the parents-to-be may have inadvertently stumbled upon a goldmine of untapped revenue by giving their “talented” and “vivacious” offspring a leg-up on all those other celebrity children. While I may have missed the boat of fetal representation, I have identified other key pre-birth markets:

• Embryonic Personal Trainers – “Because baby fat is for losers.”
• Ultrasound Glamour Shots – “Because no one is putting a monochromatic picture of a lima bean on the cover of People.”
• In-womb Plastic Surgery – “Because you know her emotionally-distant father will drive her to it eventually.”
• Webcast Dilation Parties – “Because anything less than 4 centimeters is just filler.”
• Louis Vuitton Forceps – “Nobody is bringing Angelina Jolie’s baby into this world with salad spoons from K-Mart.” 
• Umbilical Cord Jewelry – “Where placenta meets platinum!”
• Pre-Natal Criminal Defense – “Because the first domestic assault charge is always the hardest.”
• Cervical Fung Shui – “Because a balanced uterus is a happy uterus.”
• Botox Epidurals – “Because stretch marks are for poor people.”

Guinness

When I was in the 6^th grade, I remember stumbling across my parent’s copy of The Guinness Book of World Records. It was the most enthralling collection of information I had ever seen. It had pages upon pages of the world’s tallest man, the world’s oldest Siamese twins, and the world’s tallest building. Here was an authoritative volume chronicling the greatest achievements of both humanity and the natural world complete with pictures. I believe I read that entire edition from cover to cover and continued to stay updated when a new version was released so that I would not be in possession of outdated information. 

The series, like all great contributions of mankind, began with an alcohol-fueled disagreement over which European game bird flew the fastest.  Since the argument involved Sir Beaver, the then managing director of Guinness Breweries, he decided to recruit a London fact-finding firm to settle the argument. He then realized that there must be similar debates occurring in pubs all over Europe with no definitive reference book to settle them. So, in 1954, the first copies of The Guinness Book of World Records were distributed to the public and the rest is history.

Sadly, the modern incarnation of Guinness Records is but a hollow shell of its former glory. Case in point: CNN ran a story a few days chronicling a group of people attempting to cook the “world’s largest outdoor stir-fry.” Due to their hard work, determination, and obvious lack of full-time employment they were successful and Guinness officials were on-hand to present them with an official world record. The final dish, prepared in a 14-foot frying pan, weighed in at 4,010 pounds and shattered the previous record of 2,319 pounds. Over 800 pounds of chicken and 50 pounds of canola oil used to prepare the meal.

I can only imagine how emotional such a moment must be for the participants and their families. I was hoping for an interview with the previous record holder where he shook his fist skyward and vowed on the graves of his ancestors that he would restore his honor by making a 5,000 pound stir-fry served on a bed of rice pilaf the size of a Motel 6. That poor guy probably had “get into Guinness” on his bucket list and figured “largest outdoor stir-fry” would be a foolproof category to tether his dreams to.

Unfortunately, the stir-fry incident was only the most recent in an embarrassing downward spiral. Other “feats” given Guinness status include:

• Most Simultaneous High-Fives 
• Largest simultaneous self-check for testicular cancer
• Most Consecutive Gender Reassignment Surgeries
• Oldest married couple to visit the North Pole
• Longest time spent playing Grand Theft Auto IV
• Fastest Marathon Finish While Dressed as a Viking
• Most simultaneous opposing rotations of the arms in one minute
• Most consecutive donuts (spins) in a car while standing on the roof of the car
• Youngest person to row by themselves across the Atlantic Ocean from west to east

While each one of these obviously represents the pinnacle of human achievement in their respective fields, I am not sure that a synchronized, outdoor scrotum groping deserves the same attention as say, fastest mammal or oldest human structure. It seems as though Guinness is simply creating categories in order to stay relevant so that people have a reason to buy the newest edition. I can sympathize to an extent because “oldest fossilized biped” isn’t exactly a page-turner, but there has to be a balance between the franchise’s integrity and their sales figures.

If, however, they continue down the path of unnecessarily-specific world records, I offer the following categories:

• Longest Involuntary Eye-roll by a Swede.
• Fastest Marathon Finish by a Non-participant in a Different State.  
• Most Simultaneous Appendectomies Performed on a Jewish holiday.
• Oldest Fraternal Twins to Cross the Canadian Border on a Tandem Bicycle.
• Longest Unbroken Stream of Profanity by a Licensed Nurse Practitioner.
• Tallest Pentecostal to Circumnavigate Milwaukee in a Kayak.
• Most Consecutive Felony Convictions by a Type II Diabetic.
• World’s Largest Hamburger Helper Wrestling Match to Benefit a Marathon.
• Shortest Custodian to Lose a Knife-Fight.
• Youngest Pianist to Never Take Up the Cello.

Pay Per View

While on our recent trip to San Francisco, my wife and I spent several nights at the Hyatt Hotel located beside Fisherman’s Warf. The room was comfortable, the location was ideal, and the staff was infinitely courteous. I would later test the boundaries of this courtesy and discover that nothing fazes the front desk employees.

One afternoon we decided to stop back by the hotel in order to freshen up and change clothes after our morning tour of the city. Toying with the idea of calling it an early night and watching a movie in the room, I turned on the TV and looked through some of the tittles. As expected, they were outrageously expensive and we remained unconvinced that the convenience was worth the fee.

Like all reputable hotel chains, they also offered adult film choices which they coyly advertised by showing a woman in a robe drawing the curtains to her bedroom (presumably for some carnal pursuit or a homicide). This scene was accompanied by spoken instructions on accessing said films and the assurance that no movie titles would appear on your final bill.

My wife snickered and wondered aloud if that was really true or if they just told you that because you were more likely to pay if they could embarrass you with the titles later. I half-kiddingly suggested that I should go to the front desk and clarify this promise of viewing anonymity. My wife bet me that I would never be able to carry out such a mission and we set about finding the most awkwardly-titled adult film they offered.

There were several worthy contenders that I will not mention here (as I already get enough questionable Google search referrals from my Why Are Drug Reps Hot? article) but we unanimously decided on a promising motion picture called “Tits Ahoy!” both due to its clever word-play and its implied nautical theme.

As my wife suspected, I lacked the fortitude to actually go to the front desk in person so we decided on a compromise: I would call the front desk from the room and put the employee on speakerphone so my wife could hear the exchange. After one ring, I was greeted by a matronly voice that I knew belonged to one of the women (who I will refer to as Rosacea) that was manning the front desk when we checked in the previous day. After she greeted me as Mrs. Taylor (the room was in my wife’s name) I calmly asked if movie titles appeared on the bill.

She soothingly replied that no movie titles would appear on the final bill as per the hotel’s policy. Our conversation continued as follows:

Me:  Rosacea, let me lay out a completely hypothetical scenario for you.

Rosacea: Sure thing Mr. Taylor

Me: Let’s suppose, for argument’s sake, that I wish to view some of your adult titles…

Rosacea: Go on……

Me: …And it is imperative that my purchase of these films remains undocumented in any way. Is that something that you can help me with?

Rosacea: Absolutely Mr. Taylor!

Me: Now I wish to be completely clear on this. If I were to order, say, “Tits Ahoy!” from the pay-per-view service only the term “In-Room Entertainment” would appear on the bill because I am really leaning toward that one.

Rosacea: I can assure you that after you purchase and enjoy Tits Ahoy there will be nothing on the bill to suggest the nature of the film.

Me: Rosacea, it is refreshing to discover such wonderful customer service.

Rosacea: In fact, Mr. Taylor, we can even remove the charge from your bill completely and you can come downstairs and pay for Tits Ahoy in cash so that no extraneous charges will be billed to your employer….

Me: Oh sure, I can’t have my “employer” finding out about this. What if I come down later and pay for it after my “employer” has gone to sleep?

Rosacea: That will not be a problem Mr. Taylor. Enjoy your stay!

We were so impressed with her professionalism that I almost filled out a comment card demanding a pay raise for Rosacea but I was unable to decide how I would describe our conversation. In the end we did stay in and decided to order “Limitless” and after it was over I found myself grateful that no one at the front desk would know I paid $12 to watch it.