What I learned on the way to Pennsylvania

Hello all,

I'm out in lovely Scranton, PA (also known as Pensylbama) and thought I'd share some key findings I learned this afternoon.

Some fun facts from the craptacular state of Pennsylvania:

- In Pennsylvania the fine for speeding is $5 for every mile over the speed-limit you're going.

- In Pennsylvania 20 miles per hour over the speed limit adds a charge of reckless endangerment, even if you are the only car on a deserted highway (Okay, just you and a parked state trooper hidden by a bend).

- In Pennsylvania state troopers view joking around, even as a nervous habit, as resisting arrest.

- In Pennsylvania getting charged with speeding, reckless endangerment and resisting arrest means you get to go to the station so they can run a background check on you, and if you need to leave before the check is over, they hold on to your drivers license.

Or so I've heard...

(Legal disclaimer - for those actually concerned, this entry does contain some embellishment -- they didn't actually charge me $5 per mile over the limit - they simply rounded to the nearest 10)

Thanksgiving at the Silverman household

My parents continued the tradition this year of hosting Thanksgiving for the family and about 10 guests, although in the past few years they’ve decided that they don’t enjoy all the work that goes in making a turkey, so my mom orders one and has it delivered, although most of the guests don’t know that. Many places in New York seem to have this service and they’ll even send you all the sides you need – it’s like Thanksgiving dinner in a box.

Well, this year my sister and I decided to have a little fun with her. We decided to see how much hinting at the Turkey coming from Boston Market it would take to get the secret out. In retrospect, it may not have been the best idea.

When the Turkey was being served, I thought it might be a good time to ask how many sides come with the drumstick and wing combo I was having. I just wanted to know if I could get stuffing AND mashed potatoes, or if that was going to be extra. My mother did not look pleased. Neither was she thrilled with my sister asking what vegetarian options they had that “might not be on the menu.” But what really put her over the edge was my intervening on an argument she had with my sister – and all because I told her that as a 26-year customer I didn’t like her attitude and wanted to speak to her supervisor about it.

Needless to say, my sister and I have been uninvited from our parents’ house for Thanksgiving next year.

**On a related note for those in the New York area, I brought some of Effie’s homemade “Camp Cranberry” sauce which was delicious and loved by all who attended. It may be the only reason I get invited back to my parents, so I think I owe her a plug. If you want to order some, send an e-mail to campcranberry@gmail.com. I’ve even come up with a new slogan for her “Camp Cranberry – saving family relations since 2004.”

Christmas for Thanksgiving?

Is it just me, or is it a little strange that my local radio station is playing 24-hours of Christmas music on Thanksgiving...? Personally I was having trouble remembering how the Three Wise Men figure into the Thanksgiving story - did they bring the first turkey?

Who’s afraid of the big bad commitment?

So the other day I received the two things in the mail that put fear in the hearts of all twenty-somethings regardless of gender: my renewal lease and a wedding invitation. The double-whammy – courtesy of the US Postal Service – forced me to sit down and reevaluate my life on the spot. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not super-commitment phobic. On a 1-10 scale of commitment phobia I’m anywhere from a 2 to a 14 depending which group of my friends you ask, but in my own mind, I’m average for a 20-somethings guy – but I don’t know if I can swear by that.

The renewal lease had me considering the merits of picking up and moving to the Cayman Islands – tomorrow. It could happen. Real estate is cheap right now. Or what if six-months into my lease – or a year and six-months into my lease the time to buy in the Caymans became perfect? I began to dream of opening my own hotel and bar. I don’t want to miss the peak tourism season – I need to be up and running by spring. I could work the bar and manage the hotel, and friends of mine could work there, and we could all live together at the hotel. You all could come visit – it would be great. I envision lagoon-like pools, and we’d be beachfront. Of course, it would also be completely impossible if I were locked into a damn two-year lease.

Needless to say, the renewal form is still not signed and neither the "one-year" or "two-year" box has been crossed off. My landlord was smart and sent it to me now – my least isn’t up until April. The funny thing is that I’ve lived in my apartment for two years now -- both times signing one-year leases.

Just seeing the lease renewal in the mailbox alone would have been enough, but the silver, calligraphy-embossed envelope beneath it put me over the edge. First off, it was addressed to "Kevin Silverman and Guest" which is like being judged right off the bat. Getting the "and guest" is like the host and hostess saying, "look, we may have found each other, but hang in there, buck-o. You’ll meet someone. Oh it may not be by the time we get married, but don’t worry, it’ll happen." Yeah, thanks.

Actually, I’m not bothered so much by the "and guest" because it usually just leaves me thinking, "Huh, which one of my friends should I bring to the open bar?" But it really seems to piss off my female friends. I guess that’s just another male-female difference that I’m happy being on this side of. It does become a problem when you’ve been seeing someone for a short while and you just don’t think you’ve reached that "wedding date" level yet. (Some argue two months, others argue three-years)

The other extreme is when you get the invite from a friend and the envelope has the name of a previous long-term girl/boyfriend who you stopped seeing several months earlier. I once received a "save-the-date" with one girl’s name on it, the invitation with someone else’s, and then brought someone completely different to the wedding. Her place-holder was crossed out twice and the name penciled in on top with a question-mark.

But it was the combination of the lease and the invitation that really put me over the edge and possibly spun me off into my own quarter-life crisis. Everything was about the future. Suddenly I was evaluating everything – where I live, my relationships, my job, what I was going to eat for dinner that night… it was a downward spiral.

Actually to be honest, I became so absorbed in the turmoil that I still haven’t opened the envelope to find out which of my friends is getting married.

Locker room acoustics (volume 2)

So today I went to the local lunch place where I usually get my Japonese Udon soup. Feeling adventurous, I asked the chef who I see daily about Miso Udon instead of my normal chicken.

He turned to me and said (in broken English), "Miso good for chest. Miso, tofu and broad noodles make chest bigger."

Great -- I guess everyone noticed my chest "could use a little work" except for me.

Kevin’s theory on blind dates (revised)

This past weekend a friend of mine and I were swapping stories, and it led me to revise my theory on blind dates. I used to think that blind dates fell into two categories, but I’ve added a rarely used third category.

Category 1 – 5% of blind dates
The person fixing up the people on the date thinks, "I really think that person A and person B would really get along…"

Category 2 – 94.999% of blind dates
The person fixing up the people on the date thinks, "I’d love to see what happens when person A and person B meet each other…"

Category 3 – 0.001% of blind dates
The person fixing up the people on the date thinks, "As a practical joke, I’m going to make person A spend an entire evening with the most horrible person I can imagine…"

Locker room acoustics

Recently my gym renovated the locker rooms, something I’ve given little thought to until today. After enjoying a sauna this afternoon, I entered the first shower right next-door to rinse off, when I learned something new about the recent construction: in the first shower you can hear conversations in the sauna perfectly.

Now normally this isn’t anything I’d really consider interesting, had the two (apparently gay) men in the sauna decided not to talk about me after I left. It was more fruitful than the scale in the locker room. Apparently I have “juicy abs” “decent arms” and a “nice butt” but my chest and legs “could use a little work.”

I thought “this is great!” Where else could I get such an open, honest, unbiased opinion? I plan to adjust my workout routine accordingly – you know, increase the arms and legs a bit, and maybe come back at the same time in about a month in hopes for a check-in session to see how I’m doing.

The airplane sign

Okay - tell me what YOU think it means.

Some thoughts on flying

I like to sit in the Emergency Exit row of the plane since it’s a well-known fact that you get more legroom (note to all - there is a definite problem with the legroom provided on a plane when a 5’6" man complains about it). The only drawback is that before departing, the flight attendant always comes up and asks, "Sir, are you prepared to help other passengers get out of the plane in the event of an emergency?"

I always answer, "yes." But really, it’s only a partial answer. My full reply is more along the lines of, "yes, I plan to help other passengers by giving them a live demonstration of how to be the first person out the door if this thing goes down."

I’ve also always wondered why they demonstrate what to do in the event of a water landing if you’re on a flight that doesn’t actually go over any water. I was on a puddle-hopper from Cincinnati to Toledo, and according to the handy map in the super-stimulating in-flight magazine, the only body of water along our flight path is a pool belonging to some guy in Dayton. So unless we’re planning on trying to ditch in his yard, I think it’s okay to skip that section.

Ever notice that, although smoking on planes has been banned for over 10 years, the captain still feels the need to turn on and off the "no smoking" sign that appears in front of each row? Why does he need to do that? Electronic devices (like my iPod or a Discman) have been banned during parts of the trip for almost as long, but they don’t get their own indicator. On a flight this afternoon, I actually got in trouble with a flight attendant because I apparently missed the announcement that I needed to "turn off my electronic device" (because you need to have had the volume cranked up to the max to hear the speakers that literally sit in your ears over the roar of the engine). You never miss hearing something over the sound of smoke - I think they have their little flashy indicators backwards.

I also noticed a strange sign near the front of my 16-passenger plane that I still don’t understand. I swear the sign was made up of a picture of a man then what looked like a table with a screen on it, and then a picture of a woman. For the entire 35-minute flight, the pictures were crossed out with a big red "/" through it. The same flight attendant who had been annoyed with me over my iPod was less than impressed when I pointed to the sign and asked, "Why is there no meeting women in the onboard Internet café?"

I finally understand the Tiffany’s snowflake

I never understood the giant snowflake on 59th and 5th Avenue that is displayed outside the store each Christmas season. I’m beginning to think it’s so men know where Tiffany’s is.

Some thoughts on parents

Why is it that your own mother can get under your skin in the blink of an eye – far faster than anyone else on the face of the planet? My mother can get me from relaxed and calm to irritated and pissed off in a timeframe that would make the 0-60 acceleration rate of a Ferrari seem like an eternity. It seems to be a universal power moms have with their kids.

Sometimes I think it’s rooted in the questions they ask – you know, the ones that that always prompt responses from us like, “Yes, Mom, it is safe to assume that because you haven’t seen Sally in two-and-a-half years and she no longer sends you fudge on Christmas that we’ve broken up.”

Ever have your mom ask you about what her favorite ex of yours is up to? They usually use that opportunity to remind you how much “I sure liked” her/him. And do they do that lovely thing where everyone you ever date is permanently compared to the first girl/boyfriend you introduced your parents to? It’s like the first person you brought home for dinner (usually in middle or high school, when our judgment on what we’re looking for in a relationship is oh so well developed) is the benchmark standard for everyone else we’ll ever date.

My sister has it far worse off than I do, but that’s her own fault. She introduced them to a guy they loved, who was everything in a boy that parents of a teenage girl want. He was smart, responsible, studied hard, lived on the Upper East Side and had parents my parents knew and liked…. The complete opposite of what any girl now in college is interested in.

I went the opposite route and set the standards real low – I never knew it would payoff in dividends. I introduced my parents to a girl who was very developed physically, but not mentally, liked to wear revealing clothing, aspired to a future in retail and had one of those names that ended in an “i” which she dotted with a heart (come to think about it, I don’t remember my dad ever saying a bad thing about her). Every girl I’ve introduced them to subsequently has been heralded by my mother as the most “charming, sweet, lovely, fantastic” girl they’ve ever met. Somehow, I think my dad still misses Brandi…

My very own stalker

I’m excited to announce that I have my very own stalker! I’ve never had one before – I’m actually rather proud. Part of what makes this so much fun (and not taking me down the super-freaked-out highway) is that she doesn’t have my address, phone number or social security information. She just keeps asking around about, and then showing up at, events she knows I’m going to be at. Then and chews my ear off and suggests we grab coffee/drinks/dinner/get married/have children/go back to some basement where she can cut me in two some time. I'll admit, the attention is kind of fun.

Plus, what makes it really cool, is that she’s no amateur stalker – no sir, she’s a retired professional. Yeah, she spent some time stalking the lead singer of some rock group. That’s another nice feather in my cap. It’s also why I’m going to enjoy it while I can, but always keep the restraining order application folded up in my pocket – you know – just in case.

The NyQuil Cup

Why is it that the cup that comes with a bottle of NyQuil has like 40 units of measurement on it, but the directions only include two – one for adults and one for children?

At 3:30 in the morning when you have the stress of work in the morning, a splitting headache, are congested and exhausted there’s nothing more frustrating than trying to figure out the dosage. I’m trying to convert tablespoons into ounces, thinking back to high school math, carrying decimals… it’s simply not working. At one point I came to the conclusion that I’ve been taking five times the recommended dosage. No wonder I usually pass out before even making it back to bed. I can’t begin to tell you how many mornings I’ve awoken on the floor of my bathroom – but I was headache free.

Here’s a little suggestion for the folks at Procter & Gamble – two lines (and only two lines) on the cup – “adults” and “children.”

Arafat - dead or alive?

Arab sources say he'd dead.

European sources say he's alive.

CNN says it's too close to call.

The guy phase

On the development charts that detail the stages of life, I've realized there's a phase right after college that males go through that is always left out. Women, don't seem to go through it. It lasts from the early to mid (or sometimes late) 20's, where we haven't really grown up yet, often no longer live (and I use the term "live" loosely) with our parents and are of legal drinking age. I like to refer to it as the "guy" period.

The guy period is that bridge between manhood and boyhood. We've abandoned crooked posters on the walls for crooked pictures of works of art. We have full time jobs and careers, but haven't the slightest idea what we want to be doing in five years. It's that phase where we get together to go out, but still meet up first to play Nintendo. We know about, and may even be in, relationships with actual females, but let's face it, we have trouble giving plants the love and attention they need to survive. I'm proud to realize that I'm in my "late" guy phase, meaning that I haven't reached man, and still have a way to go, but I'm on the path. Some examples below:

Signs of man:
My bathroom has a color scheme and motif

Signs of guy:
That motif includes my autographed picture of Kathy Ireland

Signs of man:
I own an actual couch which I didn't find on the street

Signs of guy:
I own coffee table, which I did find on the street

Signs of man:
I passed my company's sexual harassment exam

Signs of guy:
I printed out the diploma, framed it and hung it over my bed

Signs of man:
I have pretty good knowledge of fine, imported European wines

Signs of guy:
It's surpassed my knowledge of cheap European beers

Signs of man:
I cook dinner 4-5 nights per week

Signs of guy:
I've yet to make a meal that uses my stove in place of my Foreman grill

Signs of man:
My refrigerator contains more than a bottle of ketchup, a six-pack of beer and half-eater container of Chinese food dating back to the Clinton administration

Signs of guy:
As of last night, my refrigerator contained only a bottle of ketchup, a six-pack of beer and half-eater container of Chinese food dating back to the Clinton administration

I'm sorry

Dear world,

I'm sorry.

Kevin

Silverman’s rules on dating #327

A friend of mine has recently entered that happy, blissful, wonderful stage of dating where he’s enamored with a girl he’s seeing. He’s not seeing anyone else, and he's pretty sure she isn't either. The only problem is that they haven’t had The Conversation.

So the other day he asked me, "if we’re walking down the street, and I bump into someone I know and need to introduce her, what do I call her?" This led to the creation of…

Silverman’s Rules on Dating #327: Never use titles unless you’re 100% certain.

I’m serious – 100% sure, none of this Ivory Soap 99.44% business. The damage can be irreparable. Imagine they’re walking down the street and bump into a friend of his, and he introduces her as, "this is my friend (name)..." and she thinks she’s his girlfriend. She’s heartbroken and bam, they're starting the relationship with hurt feelings, plus it prematurely forces The Conversation. Now let’s look at this from the other side – he introducers her as "this is my girlfriend (name)…" and she’s a bit commitment phobic. Suddenly the relationship takes 10 steps backwards -- do not pass Go, do not collect $200.

Got citizenship?

For many of us, yesterday was quite a somber day, and many discussions were held about obtaining foreign citizenship or moving to far off islands for the next four years. One friend even went so far as to call me and ask, "Kevin, what's the easiest way for me to get Canadian citizenship?" Well, in response, for any of you looking to flee the country, I'm providing the below link to a helpful service:

http://www.marryanamerican.ca

Personally, I'm thinking Australia’s a bit nicer, but whatever country you decide to seek political asylum in, just make sure you don't forget Poland.

What I learned while sick at home

So I spent the past few days quarantined in my home while recovering from being sick. Those of you who know me know that I’m not a very good patient, and that I don’t do cooped up at home very well. So, if you think you may be getting sick, I put together the following list of the top five things I learned while sick at home:

5. Billy, Erika’s boyfriend is going to receive quite a shock on Monday when he learns that Adam, her third husband has come out of his fourth coma and is out for revenge.

4. If you’ve been injured in a car accident, there are numerous firms available to help you get the cash reward you deserve, y sí, hablan español. I already checked - they won’t defend you if you received injury from hitting a parked car.

3. If you try hard enough, you can find Law and Order on some channel at all times.

2. Sally Struthers doesn't seem to be trying to get donations for children from Africa anymore. I’m afraid it’s not that they don’t need aid anymore; it’s that she ate them all.

And the most important thing I learned while home sick…

1. Gremlins is a scary-ass movie when you’re on prescription narcotics. I’m still certain one of Gizmo’s babies popped out of the TV and landed behind my couch. At night, when the sun sets (and usually right after my evening dose of medication) you can hear him say "Mogwai."