The Longest Post

I know I have not posted in awhile. Truth be told, I have been trying to figure out how to integrate these short stories over the last couple weeks, but I have given up. I just watched the end to my favorite show of all time - Sopranos – and I just don’t have the patience anymore. If Chase, the creator of Sopranos, can end the show the way he did, then I can throw a couple unrelated posts together and call it art as well.

The anticipation for the finale was an emotional rollercoaster. This whole week I was super psyched about Sunday. I wanted to remember where I was, who I was with, what cigar we smoked when the show played. I wanted to be able to tell my kids about the show, if they ever tried to brag about how tight their lame cartoon was. “Kids this isn’t shit. (I will cuss in front of my kids) There was a bad ass show called Sopranos. My roommate and I would sit in complete silence while watching the show. Probably the only time you could get one of us quiet. Anyhow their was a guy called Tony Soprano. He was in the Mafia. Now …”

After a particularly rough week at work, come Sunday I was ready. I went to Bev Mo and got a cigar and some Belgium beer that I really liked. My roommate and I got into our standard Soprano position – each of us sat in the dark on separate couches and turned the plasma on. Of course we waited for the 9PM HD feed and resisted the urge to watch the East Coast feed at 6PM.

The first half was good, I guess. Story lines were wrapping up, and I found myself nostalgic and laughing. While the only shot of the Bada Bing had no ladies, Meadow still looked fine as hell. However, when I glanced at my watch and saw there was only a couple minutes left, I wanted more. I wanted closure.

However, like life, relationships and pretty much anything else you never get what you want. The show ended abruptly with nothing happening. Just as I felt something was going to happen, the screen intentionally went black and there was silence both on the screen and in our room for what seemed like hours. Then the credits started rolling and it was over. Sopranos was over. Needless to say, I did not light any cigar in celebration afterwards. Both my roommate and I were just stunned, disappointed and shocked at the same time. We tried to come up with a rationale for the ending , but we were both at a loss for words. Oh well. There is always Namaste America and Bhavna Toor. She never disappoints.

“What is a BJ?”
Last Friday instead of the normal happy hour followed by some boozing with the boys, I headed down to the ghetto to celebrate my little bro's 12th birthday. Now, it has been awhile since I have been around kids that young. My youngest cousin in the states is now entering her senior year, so really I was out of touch of what to do. Case in point - I had some free time on Tuesday so I was considering getting him a remote control car for his birthday - only to find out that boys stop playing when they are eight. How was I supposed to know? If someone got me a sweet remote control car for my wedding, I would be happy as hell. Hint hint guys.

Anyhow, to avoid disappointing him, I let him plan his own birthday - whatever he wanted to do, we would. As it turned out, he wanted to eat and go watch Knocked Up. Though this movie was rated R, I thought a.) this guy has heard me cuss and cusses himself so language is not an issue and b.) he is a 12 year old boy, which means that any nudity will be just upside for the kid.

After scarfing down some amazing pizza at Roundtable, we headed over to the theater. For those who have not seen the movie, I highly recommend it. It is made by the director of the 40 year old virgin and the producer of one of my favorite TV shows - Freaks and Geeks . Anyhow, this movie had it all - drinking, smoking, cussing, sex, etc. Half of the time I was worried that I may be overexposing the kid, but he seemed to be laughing more than I. There was an incident with him that made this night particularly memorable.

There was a scene in the movie when Katherine Heigl asks Seth Rogan, what he would normally expect for a second date. Seth Rogan honestly responds, "BJ." Of course, all the males in the audience bust out laughing. Then my little bro pokes me and says, “I don’t get it. What is a BJ?"

At this point, I really did not know what to do. I really did not want to be the one having a sex conversation with him, but I did not want to lie to him either. Moreover, I could not think of something else that a BJ could stand for. Back Jump? I am not creative, especially on the fly. I don’t know if it was the fact that I was at work till 5am in the morning or what, but I fearfully told him "blowjob", hoping the conversation would end there and that would not have to answer, “What is a blowjob?"

Luckily, he said “Duh" and then busted out laughing. I am always surprised how much more sexually active kids are these days. At 11, a Playboy or even a SI swimsuit edition was enough. I did not know what to do with these girls; I just know I wanted them. At his age, I thought oral and phone sex were the same thing. Now kids know all about sex at a much younger age. I guess knowledge is power, but there is something to be said about being naïve. Anyhow, he thoroughly enjoyed the movie and we spent the whole ride home repeating lines from the movie.

A Few Good Men
A couple weeks ago, I had to go to Atlanta for a diligence meeting. Like most investment banks, the corporate policy makes sure when you travel, you travel well. I took a black car to the airport where I got to go through a special line through security and enjoyed a drink in the admirals club prior to the flight. I sat in first class and had some wine while I enjoyed the movie and the view. I then took a cab to the Ritz where I ordered room service and watched the end of Lebron's amazing Game 5 performance.

The next day, I got up early and hit the gym and then enjoyed a nice breakfast in bed. The meeting went extremely well and ended early. Since I had some time to kill, I hit up Atlanta's finest SC, Cheetah, which the concierge at the Ritz highly recommended. I have this weird habit - I like to see what SCs are like across the US. Anyhow, Atlanta has some amazing ladies but interestingly enough, does not allow any lap dances in the SCs. With an hour left to my flight, I rushed off to the airport where I was escorted to the front of the security line (only because of my ticket). I was feeling extremely good - I had handled my business on the trip and had some fun as well.

Now, most of you think I am writing about the trip to brag about how pimp my life is. This could not be further from the truth. First of all, while I certainly enjoy the benefits, I do not need them. (Bonus points, if you can guess where I jacked that line from) Anyone who sees my car or gear can attest to that. In fact, the reason I described my experience to contrast it to what I those of the people ahead of me - 3 young people in full Army gear, lugging around all their belongings in a standard issue Army duffle bag. They were clearly going out to another army base, possibly heading out to the Middle East.

At this point, I could not but help think how different our lives were. While I may think my life is stressful or full of problems, it does not even compare to their lives. While I sit here writing this post, these individuals are out there protecting my ass. Some may have done it as they really believe in this country and wanted to defend its honor - others may have done it because they had no other option - going to college was not in their path.

Anyhow, as I stood in the line, having a Wonder Years moment, I felt I should say something or do something to show my appreciation. Giving them some money would be insulting - I knew what I should have done is shook their hands and said thanks. However, for some reason, I felt so embarrassed about the excess I had in this trip (first class, strip clubs, etc) and how lucky I was in my life; I really could not look them in the eye. They risk their life while I debate which wine to drink with my meal in first class. These are the real heroes - they are the ones who deserve huge bonuses, not me. So I let these few good men pass through and I went ahead and boarded my flight.

Given that it was just Memorial Day, I want to make sure you all don’t make the mistake I made. I know we all have political beliefs about the war, but the fact remains - kids are out there fighting this war and giving their lives. Let them know you appreciate their efforts next time you see someone. I know I will.

I love India - Part 2

A couple months ago I went to a Zakir Hussein concert. I had asked some coworkers if they wanted to roll. While all those uncultured bastards said no, one wise associate told me he would roll with me to see this girl, Tina Sugandh play tabla any day. I love India.




Here are some more videos featuring Big B and Little B that I thought were hilarious.