It’s a sunny, cool morning in Boston. Sunny, cool mornings are among the best for hot coffee. Tomorrow, it will apparently be 95 degrees. Which is bad for hot coffee, and everything else. That’s why I’ll be migrating to the cooler, beachside clime of Cape Cod, where the onshore breeze and my parents’ central air system will keep me nice and cool straight through this natural disaster. While I’m there, I’ll probably also pop into the hospital for some quick surgery, too.
Speaking of hot stuff, I was in Durham, North Carolina this past weekend for the wedding of my dear Facebook and real-life friend (and “regular” BLAG commenter), Bob Tomlinson. The ceremony and receptions were in part bilingual, which I thought was lovely, even though I’m pretty sure the parts in Spanish were about how much everyone hates me. There’s no way to be certain as the language sounds nothing like English and is therefore completely unintelligible, like most languages. Anyway, a hearty congratulations to Mr. and Mrs. Tomlinson. May your love for one another forever shine as the guiding Polaris in the journey afield that is your new life together.
In other, more me-related news, I had a dream that I waterboarded someone this weekend. I don’t know who the victim was, one of those vague-faced dream people that could be anyone. Sometimes their face doesn’t come together, but you still know who it is. Not so this time, but I’m pretty sure it was a young woman. So, I waterboarded a young woman, which sounds awful, but keep in mind that waterboarding is not torture. That argument starts to feel right-er once you feel personally responsible for the act. Silver lining: another check in the “Dreams Where I’m Not the Victim” column.
Another recent topic of debate in my life: The Gender-Racist Tallness Requirement. Apparently, women demand that men be tall in order to win their affections, while many other more important factors fall by the wayside. In BLAG’s opinion, this is a bullshit logical infraction, punishable by waterboarding. Ladies, you’re not tall, for the most part. And some of the best guys I know are of “below-average” height. It’s also an outdated physiological imperative. Sure, once upon a time being tall rendered a man far more formidable than his shorter mate-hungry competitors. But now there’s guns: the most democratic and egalitarian of all of humanity’s inventions. So keep an open mind — maybe the little guy standing alone at the end of the bar isn’t so underpowered and undesirable after all. Maybe he has a gun.
Here’s a piece for shorter guys on how to compensate by dressing well and appearing confident and comfortable in your own skin. If it’s no good, my apologies: I’m almost 6’1″, so I don’t have to do any of those things, and thus read very little of the article.