My relationship with facial hair began in ninth grade. Even though you're past middle school, ninth grade is still filled with awkwardness as you're thrust into the the same environment with people who you consider to be serious adults in the Senior class. Things can get especially uncomfortable when you are overweight and have a mushroom looking bowl cut (bowl cuts were not intended for people with thick curly hair - most especially not the kind of cut where they shave it way up high and the hair hangs down)and you have to get braces for the second time. It also doesnt help when you're wearing jnco's and XXL polo shirts with a pair of airwalks or doc martens which unfortunately was my dress of choice at the time.
Ninth grade is also about the time that the first strands of peach fuzz start showing up on a young mans face. Of course there's always the "Teen Wolf" in every class who can grow a full beard by the time they are 11 but for most of us it was a new thing. While most guys in my class either just left it or began shaving once a month, I actually saw it as an opportunity to distinguish myself from my classmates and prove that I was a man to all the ladies. How did I do it? Just For Men Beard and Mustache series. That is correct - as a 13 year old boy I began giving myself hair treatments in the form of brown sideburns.
I can pretty vividly remember getting the first box of color and thinking about what my life would be like if I had sideburns. I imagined myself as the cool guy in my class but then question came up "How cool are you if you have to dye your sideburns?". Obviously, that didnt stop me. What did slightly scare me was the fact that my sideburns were a different color than the rest of my hair. I brushed it off - after all, I thought my dads mustache was a greenish color and nobody ever questioned him.
The thought certainly went through my head once or twice that it might look a little suspicious to show up overnight with new sideburns but it was completely worth the risk. Upon arriving at school the next day, my best friend at the time, Mike, drew some attention to the new addition with probably something like "What are those?". I remember casually responding "You havent noticed me growing these out? Dude, Ive been growing these things out all weekend.". Probably the best confirmation of my decision was when Natalie Hucks acknowledged their presence that same day and even said she liked them. Bullseye.
The truth is that if you would have gotten inside of 18" from them Im sure you would have seen the ink or whatever that stuff is had probably actually stained my skin. I tried to keep my personal distance from people. My painted sideburns were my secret that no one needed to know about.
Eventually the sideburns started to do their own thing and I weened myself off of the coloring product. Then came the next challenge - how far can I push this? I remember seeing guys with huge chop sideburns and thinking that I would do anything to get them. In the punk rock scene those things were a right of passage and I needed to belong. I couldnt understand why men with beards wouldnt just shave them to huge jaw length sideburns. I used to look at my friend Zac's dad's beard and think about the perfect burns I would have if I was him. He's a surgeon though and it probably would have raised a few red flags if a 50 year old doctor came into work looking like a confederate soldier/biker.
Some people experiment with drugs (I did that too) but I primarily experimented with the many varieties of facial hair out there. Early on I attempted the chinstrap, the mutton chops, the reverse manchu, the motorhead, the goatee (epic fail) and so on. When I met Hannah I was sporting a full afro and the reverse manchu which can be most easily thought of if you imagine a full beard and just remove a handlebar mustache. It is a miracle that Hannah's parents even entertained the idea of letting their daughter go out on that first date with me.
Since Hannah and I started dating nine years ago I have only shaved my beard one time. Hannah finally convinced me to do it at Myrtle Beach in 2002. It is eery to have a beard for a long time and see your face completely smooth. It is also eery to look into your girlfriends eyes and see disgust. Since then, Hannah has said in some "nice" ways that my beard is what gives shape to my face...ie. without a beard my face would just be a big blob of flesh similar to java the hutt.
The truth is that I think the beard is a fairly good illustration of who I am. I am a thinker, I feel like an old man, I like whiskey and leather, I love to hunt and fish and I am more at home in a cabin than I ever have been in a city.
Most people may not even notice I have a beard because those who have known me long enough just see it as a part of my face. But, I can only imagine the shock if I was to show up with a face white as powder. You wouldnt know me and you would feel uncomfortable around me. In your head you would be thinking that I had made a huge mistake and wondering how long it was going to take for the white beard to disappear.
If men werent supposed to wear beards every once in a while I highly doubt God would have covered our faces in hair. The only thing I would probably ever trade it for is a mustache like Tom Selleck's but few men have managed that and Im seeing a lot of hipster guys wearing them right now which is gross.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Dip or Sip
One thing that is always interesting to me at St Andrews is how slow people are to sit down after Steve or John or even Brian go through the communion proceedings. I dont really care for the hesitation and I dont know where it comes from.
Growing up in a Southern Baptist Church we did communion in a very different way than I currently do it now. In the Southern Baptist Church it was done once a month and it was taken so seriously and was always accompanied by the "if any of you has an unresolved issue with anyone" statement. Really, as a kid, I was just aware that it made the service a solid 20 minutes longer and being an overweight child who only thought about food I didnt like the prospect of delaying my lunch.
So, when I started going to St Andrews I liked two things. First, I liked the fact that it was built in to the service so that I had some idea of what to expect. Secondly, I genuinely appreciated the heart behind the remembrance on a more consistent basis and that it seemed to be more of an act of the fellowship of the body.
Communion is such an interesting part of the service. A thousand people get out of their chairs and go through a process together. It all starts when the usher hits your row.
I typically dont make eye contact at all with the person handing out the wafer. I find that its much easier to just look down and acknowledge with a nod of the head that I have received it. Otherwise, its just kind of weird since you dont really say anything back and you're really close to that persons face so a stare into their eyes would be uncomfortable.
And then comes the moment of truth. People always assume Im going to be a sipper. I dont know if its the beard or what but as soon as its time to take from the cup they start lifting it towards my mouth and when I shock them by coming in for the dip I have to come in with a slam dunk motion because the cup is at mouth level.
I have a fear of dunking my fingers in the wine. I am convinced that one of these days Im going to come up with red fingers and the person holding the cup is going to be completely disgusted. So sometimes, my wafer is pretty dry and even completely dry. Its like doing a fake so that I dont contaminate the pot.
Of course I would have the same fear if I went in for the chug like Mark. If I did that I probably out of caution would not go in aggressively enough and end up spilling the wine all over my shirt. But at least I sit in the back and an emergency exit is always a possibility. I will say that the sip from Mark is unexpected though as I always have pictured him as a dipper. Must have been that old school St. Philips upbringing.
One thing I dont love is when I am seated one row too far forward and I start running the numbers on the possibility that I may have to do communion in the front. Those are some tense moments when the back of the congregation seems to be moving at half speed and the ushers rep'ing the front are dogging it out. All I know is the back. In the front there are too many options...multiple servers, kneelers, prayer ministry etc.
There are people though that live for the front. Michael and Amanda are two of those people. They could have been the last person in the last row of the whole building and sharing a seat but they are going down front. I dont know that I've ever actually seen Michael take communion but Im almost positive he would be a sipper. Actually, Im sure of it.
Its all an interesting group of back-dippers, back-sippers, front-kneelers, sippers and dippers along with the occasional person who actually takes the cup into their own hands to consume. Actually, thats a great idea and one to remember if I ever make the transition which is not likely.
Growing up in a Southern Baptist Church we did communion in a very different way than I currently do it now. In the Southern Baptist Church it was done once a month and it was taken so seriously and was always accompanied by the "if any of you has an unresolved issue with anyone" statement. Really, as a kid, I was just aware that it made the service a solid 20 minutes longer and being an overweight child who only thought about food I didnt like the prospect of delaying my lunch.
So, when I started going to St Andrews I liked two things. First, I liked the fact that it was built in to the service so that I had some idea of what to expect. Secondly, I genuinely appreciated the heart behind the remembrance on a more consistent basis and that it seemed to be more of an act of the fellowship of the body.
Communion is such an interesting part of the service. A thousand people get out of their chairs and go through a process together. It all starts when the usher hits your row.
I typically dont make eye contact at all with the person handing out the wafer. I find that its much easier to just look down and acknowledge with a nod of the head that I have received it. Otherwise, its just kind of weird since you dont really say anything back and you're really close to that persons face so a stare into their eyes would be uncomfortable.
And then comes the moment of truth. People always assume Im going to be a sipper. I dont know if its the beard or what but as soon as its time to take from the cup they start lifting it towards my mouth and when I shock them by coming in for the dip I have to come in with a slam dunk motion because the cup is at mouth level.
I have a fear of dunking my fingers in the wine. I am convinced that one of these days Im going to come up with red fingers and the person holding the cup is going to be completely disgusted. So sometimes, my wafer is pretty dry and even completely dry. Its like doing a fake so that I dont contaminate the pot.
Of course I would have the same fear if I went in for the chug like Mark. If I did that I probably out of caution would not go in aggressively enough and end up spilling the wine all over my shirt. But at least I sit in the back and an emergency exit is always a possibility. I will say that the sip from Mark is unexpected though as I always have pictured him as a dipper. Must have been that old school St. Philips upbringing.
One thing I dont love is when I am seated one row too far forward and I start running the numbers on the possibility that I may have to do communion in the front. Those are some tense moments when the back of the congregation seems to be moving at half speed and the ushers rep'ing the front are dogging it out. All I know is the back. In the front there are too many options...multiple servers, kneelers, prayer ministry etc.
There are people though that live for the front. Michael and Amanda are two of those people. They could have been the last person in the last row of the whole building and sharing a seat but they are going down front. I dont know that I've ever actually seen Michael take communion but Im almost positive he would be a sipper. Actually, Im sure of it.
Its all an interesting group of back-dippers, back-sippers, front-kneelers, sippers and dippers along with the occasional person who actually takes the cup into their own hands to consume. Actually, thats a great idea and one to remember if I ever make the transition which is not likely.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Where is he hiding?
When you were growing up did it ever cross your mind that there might be a burglar in the house? Did that thought become particularly strong right before you went to sleep? Did you actually check under every bed in the house and in the back of all closets? Ever lay on your back terrified that your parents would go to sleep before you did and that you might be the only one left awake in the house to hear someone trying to break in?
No? Me neither.
Well, actually that did happen once or twice...or every night until I moved to Charlotte in middle school.
If you didnt already know, my dad is a pretty serious guy. He's a very driven business man who has had the same mustache for 35 years (except for the one time he cut it when I was 10 and I thought he looked like a pedophile) and can be serious to the point of dramatic at times. Especially during that time in his life he was pretty uptight, intense, over protective and no-nonsense. Here are a few things that may have contributed to my evening anxiety.
Bedtime Stories
Most kids like to wind down at night with a nice story that makes them think about something calming and peaceful before they go to sleep. I can remember numerous occassions at our home in Richmond, VA when I would have just laid down to go to sleep and my dad would enter the room. "Son, do you know what to do if there is a house fire?" Hmmmm...not really the peaceful story I was hoping for. Then, for twenty minutes we would talk about escape routes all the while my mind thinking more and more about the potential for a house fire. Now, instead of imagining a great, happy story I would be imagining heat, smoke, me by myself escaping through the window not knowing if anyone was still alive.
At some point dad would feel satisfied that we had a good plan together and he would head back downstairs to watch tv with my mom. And I would be there wondering when the fire would start. Those thoughts are not really conducive to falling asleep.
I'll never forget one Sunday morning before church I heard the fire alarm go off and I went into full panic mode...I MEAN FULL PANIC MODE. My mom had somehow burnt all the bacon in the oven and I was worried the whole kitchen was going to catch on fire. I think I got really mad at her and it took all morning to calm back down.
THE SHADOW
Some nights I would be fortunate enough to actually fall asleep and be in the midst of waiting for it to get light outside again. Because, of course, burglars dont ever break in during daylight - its strictly a night time thing.
Sometimes I would be laying there dead asleep and I would start to get the feeling that someone was watching me. You know that sense that there is someone else close? I would think in my mind "Matt, there's no one there dont be ridiculous!" And then, I would open my eyes only to discover that in the darkness and middle of the night there actually was someone standing in the doorway looking at me. His name? David Alexander aka THE SHADOW.
I mean there were literally no lights on in the whole house and there is just someone standing in the doorway looking at you!!
Me: Hey dad. What are you doing?
DA: Just making sure you're still breathing.
Me: I am.
DA: Love you.
Me: Love you too.
Really? Did you think I was dead? Good gosh. Then it was time to try to fall asleep all over again. Only this time I was going to be the only one awake again left with thoughts of housefires, burglars and the occasional thought of a tornado which I was also terrified of...and scary movies like Gremlins...yes Gremlins.
This also didnt help much with trying to rationalize my fear. "There's no one there!" Wait, dont you remember last night?
The Locks
On the nights when I had trouble falling asleep I would hear the tv shut off downstairs and the procession towards to the stairs. Mom would go ahead and come up the stairs and then I would hear dad lock 135 doors in the house. The only problem was that there were only 3 doors which contained locks. So, each lock would get the repeat treatment.
I think that the locks may have been where I developed the burglar mentality. The logic goes something like this:
Checking a door 50 times to make sure its locked means that there are serious consequences if that door remains unlocked.
If you leave a door unlocked someone will come into the house.
There is probably already someone in the house.
There is someone in the house.
I have to prove there is no one in the house by checking all possible hiding places.
In case you're wondering, yes, I did become a tad bit OCD at one point. By the grace of God I was able to put that to rest in college but by that time I was a chronic door locker myself. I must admit that I still give each door at least 2 checks before I go to sleep.
My dad and I have pretty similar personalities so its funny to look back at it now and know exactly why all of those things happened. Its all part of that personality makeup and an intense love and desire to be a protector for the family. But, it definitely has left me with some now funny memories.
Pray for the person who ever decides to break into my house because I have been anticipating their arrival for 28 years and I will be prepared.
No? Me neither.
Well, actually that did happen once or twice...or every night until I moved to Charlotte in middle school.
If you didnt already know, my dad is a pretty serious guy. He's a very driven business man who has had the same mustache for 35 years (except for the one time he cut it when I was 10 and I thought he looked like a pedophile) and can be serious to the point of dramatic at times. Especially during that time in his life he was pretty uptight, intense, over protective and no-nonsense. Here are a few things that may have contributed to my evening anxiety.
Bedtime Stories
Most kids like to wind down at night with a nice story that makes them think about something calming and peaceful before they go to sleep. I can remember numerous occassions at our home in Richmond, VA when I would have just laid down to go to sleep and my dad would enter the room. "Son, do you know what to do if there is a house fire?" Hmmmm...not really the peaceful story I was hoping for. Then, for twenty minutes we would talk about escape routes all the while my mind thinking more and more about the potential for a house fire. Now, instead of imagining a great, happy story I would be imagining heat, smoke, me by myself escaping through the window not knowing if anyone was still alive.
At some point dad would feel satisfied that we had a good plan together and he would head back downstairs to watch tv with my mom. And I would be there wondering when the fire would start. Those thoughts are not really conducive to falling asleep.
I'll never forget one Sunday morning before church I heard the fire alarm go off and I went into full panic mode...I MEAN FULL PANIC MODE. My mom had somehow burnt all the bacon in the oven and I was worried the whole kitchen was going to catch on fire. I think I got really mad at her and it took all morning to calm back down.
THE SHADOW
Some nights I would be fortunate enough to actually fall asleep and be in the midst of waiting for it to get light outside again. Because, of course, burglars dont ever break in during daylight - its strictly a night time thing.
Sometimes I would be laying there dead asleep and I would start to get the feeling that someone was watching me. You know that sense that there is someone else close? I would think in my mind "Matt, there's no one there dont be ridiculous!" And then, I would open my eyes only to discover that in the darkness and middle of the night there actually was someone standing in the doorway looking at me. His name? David Alexander aka THE SHADOW.
I mean there were literally no lights on in the whole house and there is just someone standing in the doorway looking at you!!
Me: Hey dad. What are you doing?
DA: Just making sure you're still breathing.
Me: I am.
DA: Love you.
Me: Love you too.
Really? Did you think I was dead? Good gosh. Then it was time to try to fall asleep all over again. Only this time I was going to be the only one awake again left with thoughts of housefires, burglars and the occasional thought of a tornado which I was also terrified of...and scary movies like Gremlins...yes Gremlins.
This also didnt help much with trying to rationalize my fear. "There's no one there!" Wait, dont you remember last night?
The Locks
On the nights when I had trouble falling asleep I would hear the tv shut off downstairs and the procession towards to the stairs. Mom would go ahead and come up the stairs and then I would hear dad lock 135 doors in the house. The only problem was that there were only 3 doors which contained locks. So, each lock would get the repeat treatment.
I think that the locks may have been where I developed the burglar mentality. The logic goes something like this:
Checking a door 50 times to make sure its locked means that there are serious consequences if that door remains unlocked.
If you leave a door unlocked someone will come into the house.
There is probably already someone in the house.
There is someone in the house.
I have to prove there is no one in the house by checking all possible hiding places.
In case you're wondering, yes, I did become a tad bit OCD at one point. By the grace of God I was able to put that to rest in college but by that time I was a chronic door locker myself. I must admit that I still give each door at least 2 checks before I go to sleep.
My dad and I have pretty similar personalities so its funny to look back at it now and know exactly why all of those things happened. Its all part of that personality makeup and an intense love and desire to be a protector for the family. But, it definitely has left me with some now funny memories.
Pray for the person who ever decides to break into my house because I have been anticipating their arrival for 28 years and I will be prepared.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Is it just me?
When you're at a pro basketball game and they announce that under 4 people's chairs there are tickets to participate in a halftime shootout for 10K dollars do you:
A.) Immediately reach under your seat to find out if there's a ticket.
B.) Start thinking that there's no way you would ever be that lucky.
C.) Begin pondering what you could do with 10K dollars.
D.) Start panicking that it might be under your seat, worry about making a total idiot of yourself, start trying to find a friend or spouse who could take it if you actually won it and actually get up and leave to avoid even knowing.
Unfortunately, Im a D.
This all started when I was very young. When I was maybe 4 years old I was at a church service at Grove Avenue Baptist in Richmond, VA. There was a ventriloquist (dont ask me why there was a ventriloquist at church - although it was Sunday night and Baptist people really like to think that Sunday night is casual even though its really business casual) at the service and he asked for all the kids to come up on stage. There had to have been 100 kids up there and he said he was going to need one to help him out.
All the kids start screaming and raising their hands. The ALL wanted to be the one he picked. That is, of course, except for me. I actually turned the other way so that he couldnt see my face and tried to hide under the other kids. Actually, I was trying to devise a plan to belly crawl back to my seat without being spotted or maybe make a run for the bathroom. In the midst of my planning I started hearing him calling for someone and as much as I tried to avoid the thought I knew he was calling me.
So, the deal was that I was supposed to be his dummy. I guess this guy couldnt afford actual props so he used live children. I was just supposed to sit there and move my mouth while he did a Donald Duck voice. Well, apparently I misunderstood the instructions because I started trying to do my own Donald Duck voice which was a little rusty since I had never practiced it and I probably just sounded like a hissing cat. About that time the congregation erupted in laughter and the child abusing ventro pointed out that I wasnt doing it right.
I have to imagine that most 4 year olds dont experience humiliation and failure like I did that evening...at least I hope they dont. I felt like I had shamed myself and my family and I wanted to punch that guy in the stomach for choosing me when all I wanted to do was hide.
Im sure that the guy has probably never thought twice about that and he is off making some other shy childs life miserable. But for me, it shook the core of my 4 year old brain and told me several things:
Next time someone asks for children to come up to the front of the stage just act like you're a man and not a child
Follow instructions
Dont talk to ventriloquists
Dont go to church more than once on Sundays
Practice your Donald Duck voice because apparently you may find yourself doing it in front of 1000 people
You are not like other 4 year old children
This is around the time I started my journey into being a senior citizen before the age of 10. Now at 28 Im around 85 years old and as Lindsay points out I like old man candy...malted milk balls and Werthers.
And, just like when I was 4 I find that Im a bit different than most of the other guys around me. Im a calculated, commitment driven, long term planner who doesnt like to be out past 9 and keeps a pretty rigid schedule. Im definitely not what you would call spontaneous, impulsive or goofy.
Thank the Lord for Hannah because without her I would just be a hermit with a very organized cottage.
A.) Immediately reach under your seat to find out if there's a ticket.
B.) Start thinking that there's no way you would ever be that lucky.
C.) Begin pondering what you could do with 10K dollars.
D.) Start panicking that it might be under your seat, worry about making a total idiot of yourself, start trying to find a friend or spouse who could take it if you actually won it and actually get up and leave to avoid even knowing.
Unfortunately, Im a D.
This all started when I was very young. When I was maybe 4 years old I was at a church service at Grove Avenue Baptist in Richmond, VA. There was a ventriloquist (dont ask me why there was a ventriloquist at church - although it was Sunday night and Baptist people really like to think that Sunday night is casual even though its really business casual) at the service and he asked for all the kids to come up on stage. There had to have been 100 kids up there and he said he was going to need one to help him out.
All the kids start screaming and raising their hands. The ALL wanted to be the one he picked. That is, of course, except for me. I actually turned the other way so that he couldnt see my face and tried to hide under the other kids. Actually, I was trying to devise a plan to belly crawl back to my seat without being spotted or maybe make a run for the bathroom. In the midst of my planning I started hearing him calling for someone and as much as I tried to avoid the thought I knew he was calling me.
So, the deal was that I was supposed to be his dummy. I guess this guy couldnt afford actual props so he used live children. I was just supposed to sit there and move my mouth while he did a Donald Duck voice. Well, apparently I misunderstood the instructions because I started trying to do my own Donald Duck voice which was a little rusty since I had never practiced it and I probably just sounded like a hissing cat. About that time the congregation erupted in laughter and the child abusing ventro pointed out that I wasnt doing it right.
I have to imagine that most 4 year olds dont experience humiliation and failure like I did that evening...at least I hope they dont. I felt like I had shamed myself and my family and I wanted to punch that guy in the stomach for choosing me when all I wanted to do was hide.
Im sure that the guy has probably never thought twice about that and he is off making some other shy childs life miserable. But for me, it shook the core of my 4 year old brain and told me several things:
Next time someone asks for children to come up to the front of the stage just act like you're a man and not a child
Follow instructions
Dont talk to ventriloquists
Dont go to church more than once on Sundays
Practice your Donald Duck voice because apparently you may find yourself doing it in front of 1000 people
You are not like other 4 year old children
This is around the time I started my journey into being a senior citizen before the age of 10. Now at 28 Im around 85 years old and as Lindsay points out I like old man candy...malted milk balls and Werthers.
And, just like when I was 4 I find that Im a bit different than most of the other guys around me. Im a calculated, commitment driven, long term planner who doesnt like to be out past 9 and keeps a pretty rigid schedule. Im definitely not what you would call spontaneous, impulsive or goofy.
Thank the Lord for Hannah because without her I would just be a hermit with a very organized cottage.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Its All In The Handshake
The handshake is a part of every culture. Everywhere that I go in the world there is some tweak on it that makes it unique but it is consistently a part of the greeting and it is particularly embraced by men. It can be as simple as a quick grab and squeeze or it can be as complex as a series of movements all changing based on the mood of the user and the context in which it is being utilized.
I enjoy a good handshake. I cant stand a bad handshake. So for the purpose of illustrating this Im going to use a few people for handshake profiles and types of exchanges.
The Ribeye - Mark Abels has a ridiculously large hand. Im pretty sure that the average mans hand disappears inside his grip during the handshake. Its certainly not a weak handshake but its also not particularly constricting. If you could imagine shaking hands with a 30 oz Ribeye steak then you can envision shaking hands with Mark. Mark isnt the only person that Ive met with this handshake. One of the most memorable shakes Ive ever had was on death row at Easter '04. A man named Marion gave me the Ribeye and I remember thinking that if he put any power behind it my hand would disintegrate. This is particularly impressive because during that period I was obsessed with strength training and wanted to start competing in armwrestling.
The Dead Fish - This is the way that your great aunt shakes hands...and also Ed O'Bryan. There is nothing worse than walking up to a grown man to introduce yourself and grabbing into cold flaccid flesh. It actually makes me want to gag. It makes me want to squeeze until there is pain and he's forced to return some sort of strength. I would say that 90% of the time this is how Ed shakes my hand. Its certainly not because thats how he really shakes hands but he knows how obnoxious it is so he's forced by his code of silliness to do it.
The Cobra Strike - This is really impressive. One of my friends and former neighbors Rhett Harter is a military man through and through. Even though he works for the government currently and not in a role with the army he is a still a military minded guy. The Cobra Strike is something that I have marveled at for some time. The process begins when he sees you and the arm is slightly bent at the elbow as if the hand were in the pocket. As he draws closer to you the elbow begins to raise and move backward in a cocking motion until the elbow is almost at shoulder level. Then...the strike. As you come into range the then entire arm explodes forward and connects with your hand in a way that shakes your whole body. Be careful of a miss though because it will be your own fault since the cobra never misses its mark. I have to say that Rhett has one of my favorite handshakes - it connects with the soul.
The Rockclimber - This could also be called the handcrusher. These guys have some serious grip strength and they are not scared to show it. Josh Drake is one of these guys and so is Justin Parker and my friend Chris Burden. All of these guys have handshakes that almost feel like a competition...at least for someone like myself. I always enjoy seeing all three of these guys so when we see each other we connect with a handshake. There's the grab and then the squeeze is on. We can all be looking intently at each other but the internal dialogue is this "Is he winning?" "I wonder how much longer we can hold this?" These guys are almost always outdoor oriented guys who really do enjoy rockclimbing, the mountains, watersports etc. I may fit into this category but Ive never shaken hands with myself so Im not sure.
The Contemporary - You only shake hands with Michael O'Neal one time and thats the first time that you ever meet him. From there on out you will always be greeted with a pound, waist level five or the slap to hug. I love that about Michael and it fits his personality so perfectly. The contemporary is not interested in the traditional greetings but prefers a more casual exchange that can change depending on the person and location. The only challenge with the contemporary is that it can be highly unpredictable and lead to some awkward misses etc. Its worth the risk though.
Things to Avoid
Finger Squeeze - This is actually the one that I hate the most. There is nothing worse than meeting someone for the first time and going in for the handshake only to realize that they squeezed to early and now a grown man has nothing in his hand but your fingers. Its humiliating and you want to start over but you cant. If you have to have a finger squeeze always try to be on the side of squeezing fingers rather than having your own fingers squeezed.
The Hook - Have you ever shaken hands with someone who's fingers were actually curled back like a hook and pushing into your palm? Its weird. Its probably also a sign that you need to speed up your approach. You're probably giving them too much time and they're beginning their squeeze before you've begun yours. Essentially this is the same effect as the finger squeeze only slightly less aggressive.
The Watch Thief - Can you recall a time when you went in for a handshake only to completely bypass the persons hand and end up grabbing their wrist? Unfortunately, I have. Its pretty painful to sit there and stare someone in the face while holding their wrist. While it may have been completely normal during the renaissance era it is not normal at all now and it will create a bad foundation for the rest of your conversation.
The Boyfriend - Finally, there is the handshake that just never seems to end. It can start off great and even go a little longer than you would normally care to but then it goes past your point of comfort. In Africa and other cultures you may as well just get used to it. For crying out loud in Uganda its perfectly normal for men to walk around holding hands. But we are not in Uganda and if you hold my hand for longer than 5 seconds you are guilty of the boyfriend.
Happy Handshaking.
I enjoy a good handshake. I cant stand a bad handshake. So for the purpose of illustrating this Im going to use a few people for handshake profiles and types of exchanges.
The Ribeye - Mark Abels has a ridiculously large hand. Im pretty sure that the average mans hand disappears inside his grip during the handshake. Its certainly not a weak handshake but its also not particularly constricting. If you could imagine shaking hands with a 30 oz Ribeye steak then you can envision shaking hands with Mark. Mark isnt the only person that Ive met with this handshake. One of the most memorable shakes Ive ever had was on death row at Easter '04. A man named Marion gave me the Ribeye and I remember thinking that if he put any power behind it my hand would disintegrate. This is particularly impressive because during that period I was obsessed with strength training and wanted to start competing in armwrestling.
The Dead Fish - This is the way that your great aunt shakes hands...and also Ed O'Bryan. There is nothing worse than walking up to a grown man to introduce yourself and grabbing into cold flaccid flesh. It actually makes me want to gag. It makes me want to squeeze until there is pain and he's forced to return some sort of strength. I would say that 90% of the time this is how Ed shakes my hand. Its certainly not because thats how he really shakes hands but he knows how obnoxious it is so he's forced by his code of silliness to do it.
The Cobra Strike - This is really impressive. One of my friends and former neighbors Rhett Harter is a military man through and through. Even though he works for the government currently and not in a role with the army he is a still a military minded guy. The Cobra Strike is something that I have marveled at for some time. The process begins when he sees you and the arm is slightly bent at the elbow as if the hand were in the pocket. As he draws closer to you the elbow begins to raise and move backward in a cocking motion until the elbow is almost at shoulder level. Then...the strike. As you come into range the then entire arm explodes forward and connects with your hand in a way that shakes your whole body. Be careful of a miss though because it will be your own fault since the cobra never misses its mark. I have to say that Rhett has one of my favorite handshakes - it connects with the soul.
The Rockclimber - This could also be called the handcrusher. These guys have some serious grip strength and they are not scared to show it. Josh Drake is one of these guys and so is Justin Parker and my friend Chris Burden. All of these guys have handshakes that almost feel like a competition...at least for someone like myself. I always enjoy seeing all three of these guys so when we see each other we connect with a handshake. There's the grab and then the squeeze is on. We can all be looking intently at each other but the internal dialogue is this "Is he winning?" "I wonder how much longer we can hold this?" These guys are almost always outdoor oriented guys who really do enjoy rockclimbing, the mountains, watersports etc. I may fit into this category but Ive never shaken hands with myself so Im not sure.
The Contemporary - You only shake hands with Michael O'Neal one time and thats the first time that you ever meet him. From there on out you will always be greeted with a pound, waist level five or the slap to hug. I love that about Michael and it fits his personality so perfectly. The contemporary is not interested in the traditional greetings but prefers a more casual exchange that can change depending on the person and location. The only challenge with the contemporary is that it can be highly unpredictable and lead to some awkward misses etc. Its worth the risk though.
Things to Avoid
Finger Squeeze - This is actually the one that I hate the most. There is nothing worse than meeting someone for the first time and going in for the handshake only to realize that they squeezed to early and now a grown man has nothing in his hand but your fingers. Its humiliating and you want to start over but you cant. If you have to have a finger squeeze always try to be on the side of squeezing fingers rather than having your own fingers squeezed.
The Hook - Have you ever shaken hands with someone who's fingers were actually curled back like a hook and pushing into your palm? Its weird. Its probably also a sign that you need to speed up your approach. You're probably giving them too much time and they're beginning their squeeze before you've begun yours. Essentially this is the same effect as the finger squeeze only slightly less aggressive.
The Watch Thief - Can you recall a time when you went in for a handshake only to completely bypass the persons hand and end up grabbing their wrist? Unfortunately, I have. Its pretty painful to sit there and stare someone in the face while holding their wrist. While it may have been completely normal during the renaissance era it is not normal at all now and it will create a bad foundation for the rest of your conversation.
The Boyfriend - Finally, there is the handshake that just never seems to end. It can start off great and even go a little longer than you would normally care to but then it goes past your point of comfort. In Africa and other cultures you may as well just get used to it. For crying out loud in Uganda its perfectly normal for men to walk around holding hands. But we are not in Uganda and if you hold my hand for longer than 5 seconds you are guilty of the boyfriend.
Happy Handshaking.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Men's Fashion
There shouldnt be any. Fashion is a world that should be left entirely to women because they are pretty and therefore they are allowed to wear pretty things. Men should not wear pretty things because most men are not pretty. The exception would be the men from the Twilight movies that Hannah loves so much. Those are pretty men.
The average man should only be thinking about a few things when purchasing clothes.
First, is it comfortable? Why would a man buy clothes that are not comfortable? I have a lot of friends that are musicians, skaters and artists and they wear jeans that I often mistake for spandex. Im not ruling out the possibility that they are comfortable but you wont see skinny jeans on this fat boy. The only man that's allowed to wear jeans that tight is the Marlboro Man and sadly Wayne McLaren died in 1992.
Secondly, is it durable? For two years I only wore one pair of jeans. I only paid $16 for them brand new and I would have to say that is pretty good return on investment. If you've ever been at a store and thought about buying something specifically for one event you have failed to take durability into consideration.
Thirdly, does this go with my "uniform"? I am of the persuasion that men should have uniforms. You may have noticed this by the fact that I am always wearing the same thing. In case you're wondering what a uniform might consist of, here's mine:
Wrangler relaxed fit jeans
Chaps button up shirts
Columbia shorts
Pocket t-shirts
Vests (of every kind)
Leather shoes (boat, sandals, boots)
There are not going to be very many times you are going to catch me breaking uniform. In fact, if I thought I could really get away with it I would have seasonal uniforms and I would wear the exact same thing every day of the season. I do this in spurts of up to a week before Hannah gives me a subtle look like "you're kind of nasty...are you ever going to wash that?". The key principle of the uniform is this - you shouldnt have to think longer than 5 seconds about what you're going to wear.
Finally, dont be scared to become a chronic under-dresser. This does not apply to business settings of course but in social settings set your standard and maintain it. If you become known as the guy who wears jeans and a t-shirt to everything then no one is surprised when you show up in jeans and a t-shirt to everything. Case in point, we had 60 people at the house on New Years Eve and I had on shorts, a hooded sweatshirt and a blaze orange hunting parka.
Comfortable, durable, consistent and casual. That is men's fashion.
The average man should only be thinking about a few things when purchasing clothes.
First, is it comfortable? Why would a man buy clothes that are not comfortable? I have a lot of friends that are musicians, skaters and artists and they wear jeans that I often mistake for spandex. Im not ruling out the possibility that they are comfortable but you wont see skinny jeans on this fat boy. The only man that's allowed to wear jeans that tight is the Marlboro Man and sadly Wayne McLaren died in 1992.
Secondly, is it durable? For two years I only wore one pair of jeans. I only paid $16 for them brand new and I would have to say that is pretty good return on investment. If you've ever been at a store and thought about buying something specifically for one event you have failed to take durability into consideration.
Thirdly, does this go with my "uniform"? I am of the persuasion that men should have uniforms. You may have noticed this by the fact that I am always wearing the same thing. In case you're wondering what a uniform might consist of, here's mine:
Wrangler relaxed fit jeans
Chaps button up shirts
Columbia shorts
Pocket t-shirts
Vests (of every kind)
Leather shoes (boat, sandals, boots)
There are not going to be very many times you are going to catch me breaking uniform. In fact, if I thought I could really get away with it I would have seasonal uniforms and I would wear the exact same thing every day of the season. I do this in spurts of up to a week before Hannah gives me a subtle look like "you're kind of nasty...are you ever going to wash that?". The key principle of the uniform is this - you shouldnt have to think longer than 5 seconds about what you're going to wear.
Finally, dont be scared to become a chronic under-dresser. This does not apply to business settings of course but in social settings set your standard and maintain it. If you become known as the guy who wears jeans and a t-shirt to everything then no one is surprised when you show up in jeans and a t-shirt to everything. Case in point, we had 60 people at the house on New Years Eve and I had on shorts, a hooded sweatshirt and a blaze orange hunting parka.
Comfortable, durable, consistent and casual. That is men's fashion.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Disturbing
Little miss Elliott Ables was at the house last night and was wandering around so I decided to pick her up and take a stroll. Generally, my beard and sunglasses keep her entertained for at least a little while but I thought of something even more interesting to do with our time. In my mind I thought "she would like to see collection of once alive animals in my office". So off we went.
Once we got there I found myself saying the word "bird" over and over. She slapped the turkey wings a couple times, tried to stare down the pheasant and was somewhat confused by the fish. After I had said "bird" about 70 times and had her saying it along with me I suddenly became very aware that I have dead birds in my office. I actually really hate most birds so this was a disturbing realization.
Perhaps even more disturbing is the fact that I thought a tiny little girl with a pink monogrammed backpack would like to see it all. Animals are generally more enjoyable when they are alive like at a zoo. That's fun and it makes sense. Dead turkeys that look like they're flying in a holding pattern around your office is just strange.
Im sorry Elliott. You can start praying now for my kids.
Once we got there I found myself saying the word "bird" over and over. She slapped the turkey wings a couple times, tried to stare down the pheasant and was somewhat confused by the fish. After I had said "bird" about 70 times and had her saying it along with me I suddenly became very aware that I have dead birds in my office. I actually really hate most birds so this was a disturbing realization.
Perhaps even more disturbing is the fact that I thought a tiny little girl with a pink monogrammed backpack would like to see it all. Animals are generally more enjoyable when they are alive like at a zoo. That's fun and it makes sense. Dead turkeys that look like they're flying in a holding pattern around your office is just strange.
Im sorry Elliott. You can start praying now for my kids.
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