My Dance Moves
At a recent marriage ceremony, I had to defend my title of World's Greatest Wedding Dancer. Yet again. I've become resigned to it.
For the last twenty years or so, every wedding I've attended has seen some young punk calling me out for a dance-off, forcing me to put him in his place. It's been too many to count. But, I can still see the looks in each of their eyes when they got beat and slinked off the dance floor. I almost feel bad for them.
However, I'll admit I'm getting on in years. My shimmy shimmy isn't what it used to be. See this tremble? Those aren’t jazz hands.
Wedding dancing is a young man's game, and I won't be the World's Greatest Wedding Dancer forever. (Hush now. Don't cry, little one. There's no need for those tears.)
One day, I'll be dancing with my back to the reception hall door. (Look at me. Get your face out of your hands and listen. This is important.) And, some young buck with fast enough feet and a lucky song selection will take me out. I only pray it's quick and doesn't involve crumping.
Now, when that happens, I want you to promise me something: I want you to take my moves. I wouldn't rest knowing that they were in the hands of some stranger.
I want to you take my “elbows up shoulder drop” and my “march in place with head bob” and learn them well.
Now, don’t be cocky. Start small at a Bar Mitzvah or an office picnic. Then, when you’re ready… (Yes, you will be ready! I believe in you!) When you’re ready, I want you to go to a wedding and find the biggest, best wedding dancer there. It’s usually the uncle in the loudest tie. And, I want you to dance him into the ground. It’ll show people you mean business.
Do not let your guard down. When folks see you doing my “cantilevered disco lasso with hip popping,” it’ll be like you’ve painted a target on your chest. Dancers are going to be coming at you from all sides. You stay focused and shake it.
Now, listen to me. Listen. Stop your lip quivering and listen…
I am so sorry to have to bring you into this cutthroat world of dancing at weddings. I wish you could go off and lead a calmer life, like that of a karaoke singer or a surgeon. But, I’ve seen you on that dance floor, and it’s in your blood. Just like it was in my blood.
I have to go now. There’s an Earth Wind & Fire album somewhere that needs seeing to. (I thought I told you not to cry. Shhh.) But, if you ever need me, just look to the spot between the catering table and the coat check. I’ll always be there watching over you and twirling and twirling.
More St. Patrick’s Day Limericks
Last year, I wrote some filthy limericks for yourselves in honor of St. Patrick's Day. And, what an honor it must have been. Well, I've written some more, and here they are:
There was a young sailor named Kip
Who stopped in O’Shea’s for a nip;
The waitress that night though
Wore a dress oh so tight, so
To her he could give just the tip.
A man with a slew of green beads
Passed ‘em out as reward for misdeeds;
Like a kiss on the cheek
Or occasional peek
At those parts where a babe tends to feed.
A chip shop on Foster and Dean
Had never been said to be clean;
Filled with Irish devotion
They threw a promotion:
The food there would turn your face green.
A girl of the innocent type
Got caught up in St. Paddy’s Day hype;
She joined a drum corps,
Where she step-danced and more;
For she learned there to blow bag and pipe.
Sean O’Day on a trip to the pound
Was astonished by what he had found;
A dachshund named Beaner
Proved itself quite the wiener;
It was hung like an Irish wolfhound.
A dentist named Michael Magee
Could not have been nicer to me;
Though I've started to wonder
Why when he puts me under
I awake with a sore cavity.
A baker from Howe prone to fits
In the process of losing his wits
Proceeded to go nuts
And bake fifty doughnuts
The shape of dicks, clits, slits, and tits.
Old Darby’s wife, Megan McQuinn,
Produced Irish twin after twin
For, without a doubt
After pushing one out,
She invited old Darby back in.
If you like those (and why wouldn't you?) there are more here and here. Also, please feel free to write your own and leave them in the comments. I'm looking at you, Elizabeth Sullivan.
Gauging Your Mood
Hey, do you have a minute to talk about something I hate? Or, do you want to wait until later, when you're in a more cynical mood? Because, I don't want you cheering me up.
If you are in the frame of mind to give people the benefit of the doubt, or if you’re feeling optimistic about your fellow man, just give me a dopey smile, and I'll move on.
However, if you agree with me that people are gross and stupid and their butts smell like butts, and you promise me not to play devil's advocate, maybe we can talk.
On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your mood? One being "shut your fat face," and ten being "bunnies: we love 'em." If you're at a six or higher, just forget it. I need somebody on the bitter end of the spectrum, because I am not looking for contrasting opinions right now. Not that I normally am.
You haven’t rolled your eyes yet, so that means you’re not annoyed by anything. Why don’t you take a few minutes to read some YouTube comments? Maybe look up the bio of someone younger and more successful than you. That always works for me.
Are you grumpy yet? You seem like you might be getting grumpy. Yeah, you definitely seem like you’re grumpy. Is it because I keep using the word grumpy? Is that what’s making you grumpy? Because, those frown lines make you seem grumpy. Ah ha! Now you seem grumpy!
Alright, now that you’re properly irritated, let’s talk.
Ryan over there just intentionally put me in the foulest mood, and I want to complain about him doing that…
Dedication
I'd like to dedicate this, my first novel, to Mitzy and Dame Pennington. You two are calico ladies of the utmost refinement and integrity, and it is my honor to be your home-partner.
Mitzy ... oh, Mitzy. Your confidence, your willingness to stand up for yourself, your feline grace---you have taught me so much. Without you, I'd have never had the courage to write the story of noble vampire cats benignly guiding civilization’s advancement throughout the ages.
In this book, the character of Marie Curie is directly inspired by your tenacity and problem solving. Do you remember when you learned to open the dryer door and crawl inside? All on your own? I think the real Madame Curie would have been proud of that sort of ingenuity. I know I am.
And, Dame Pennington. You are my rock. Without you, I would have succumbed to that accursed scourge---the dreaded writer's block---years ago.
Often, I would hit an invisible wall when no words came, and the blank screen loomed before me, a glowing monolith. During those times, you'd simply purr, stretch your limbs, and lie down on the keyboard. As if to say, "Type on, kind artist! Marshal your strength to craft word and legend. Yours is a gift destined to be shared with a world of vampire cat aficionados."
And, thusly inspired, I would push forward, eager in my new resolve. The entire chapter on the House of Medici and its cat vampire, Felixorenza di Silvestri, was written in one day on a keyboard newly-warmed and sprinkled with soft sheddings.
I thank you, my tabby muses. I thank you with all my heart. It is only under your watchful guidance that I was able to fashion an epic "tale" out what might have been a simple “yarn.”
Oh, also, I guess I should thank my husband Lloyd for staying out of the way.
Yours in partnership,
Elizabeth Anne Winstead-Cohen
Famous Misquotes
Famous misquote from throughout history and the arts:
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"We have nothing to fear but snakes." - Winston Churchill
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"One small step for man; one giant leap for mankind. But, to reiterate: one tiny step for me. No big whoop." - Neil Armstrong
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"Ich bin ein Dachshund." - John F. Kennedy
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"Let them eat cake and/or chicken pesto penne with artisanal parmesan and a hint of truffle oil, all of which comes with their choice of soup or a chef's salad." - Marie Antoinette
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"Today, I consider myself the pluckiest duck on the face of this big ol' shiny marble." - Lou Gehrig
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"If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not get angry and pinch the backs of your legs?" - Shylock, Merchant of Venice
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"To err is human, to forgive---that's amore!" - Alexander Pope
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"We're not incandescent anymore." - Dorothy, The Wizard of Oz
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"Ask not what your country can do for you. Thank you." - Alternate Dimension Republican JFK (with evil goatee)
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"If this Plymouth is a'rockin', don't come a'knockin'." - Malcolm X
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"If I have seen a little further it is by standing on the shoulders of Giants fans to peek over the stadium wall." - Isaac Newton
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"A thing of beauty is a joyful thing of foreverness.™ Diamonds by Kay." - John Keats
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"Fools Rush In (1997 - Matthew Perry & Salma Hayek) Where Angels Fear to Tread (1991 - Helen Mirren & Judy Davis)." - Alexander Pope
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"Today's is a turkey sandwich that will live on in my tummy." FDR
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"You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can not fool all of the... no some... wait, what was I saying? Goddamnit!" - Abraham Lincoln
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"Houston, we have a whoopsies." - Jim Lovell
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Sense of Style
Why would you assume that I work for Bud Light? Just because my cargo van has a huge Bud Light logo on the side? That doesn't mean anything.
Would you assume any guy with a big "Chevy" sticker in his rear window works for Chevy? Of course not. Because making assumptions makes an ass out of both you and ... uh ... Assuming ... To assume that everyone’s an ass leaves the world blind.
What would you rather I have painted on my van? Some sort of wizard riding a pterodactyl over a beautiful waterfall? Yeah, that'd be amazing! I wish I had that on the side of my van! But, I'm not some fly-by-night van painter. I make my choices and I stick to them. I’d like to think that I have a unique personal style that exists outside of the whims of fads and fashion.
My van has a Bud Light logo; I wear a giant foam cowboy hat; I keep an extra grilled cheese in my fanny pack; my pink leather jacket has homemade fringe; my sunglasses are actually welder’s goggles; these plaid flannel pants tear away for hot days; my cornrows reach past my shoulder blades; I have multiple neck and wrist piercings; my sandals are made of duct tape; I have smiley face contact lenses; my blue lipstick matches my toenail polish; I wear a medieval quiver to hold my diablo sticks and juggling balls; my sideburns have a drawing of the Papa Smurf shaved into the side; my roller blades are covered with Garfield stickers. So? What of it?
Does that make you think I work for Garfield? Or that I write sexually inappropriate fan fiction about the Smurfs? Or that I can’t afford real sandals? Or that I was raised in a home without a sense of structure or love? Or that I just sort of scrounge around for a sense of identity? Or that my van has broken down on the way to Burning Man, and I need to borrow your jumper cables?
Because, a couple of those are correct.
Bully for you, Mr. Judgmental! WAY TO SOLVE THE MYSTERY! Now, can I borrow those jumper cables or what?
Proper Attire
Respectful attire and etiquette have gotten misplaced in our mixed-up, modern world. It used to be that men wore hats and ladies wore sundresses and bare feet. But, all that changed. Now, who knows what to wear?
So, as a man of impeccable refinement and taste, I have taken it upon myself to write this, a guide to proper attire in 2011. In each of these locations, consider the following as a sort of socially-accepted uniform for daily life.
The Office
Temporary Worker: Slacks or pencil skirt, blue button-down, dress shoes
Full-Time Employee: Slacks, sweater, black sneakers
IT Manager: SLAYER t-shirt, Cheetos-stained jean shorts, flip-flops
Shopping
Trader Joes: Yoga pants, Susan G. Komen t-shirt, library tote bag
Whole Foods: Wrap sweater, age-inappropriate leggings, pearls
The Container Store: Tennis skirt, diamond engagement ring, pink hoodie with raised Greek letters
Dining
Barbecue Joint: Something barbecue sauce-colored
Steakhouse: French cuff shirts and about forty extra pounds
French Restaurant: Stripped shirt, beret, neck scarf
The Theater
The Opera: Tuxedo, top hat, women's underwear
Broadway Musical: Spiderman sweatshirt, Spiderman baseball cap, Spiderman sippy cup
Movie Theater: Spiderman sweatshirt, Spiderman baseball cap, Spiderman sippy cup
Sporting Events
Golf Game: Golf shirt, golf shoes, protective cup
Kentucky Derby: Fez, leather bustier, pink camouflage kilt, foam finger
American Soccer Bar: Team scarf, team jersey, Anglophilic pretension
Ceremonies
Wedding: Wedding dress (bride), wedding suit (groom), SLAYER t-shirt and Cheetos-stained jean shorts (IT Manager cousin)
Graduation: Cap and gown, dress shoes, debt
Bat Mitzvah: An oversized tan pantsuit you’ll regret for the rest of your life
Home
The Living Room: Flannel pajamas
The Kitchen: Flannel pajamas
The Bedroom: Flannel pajamas? But I thought tonight was sexy night?
Outlet Mall Restaurants
A list of outlet mall restaurants:
[Originally published in tweet form February 2011]
Green Lobster
T.G.I.Monday’s
Crabapplebees
Chilly’s
The Cottagecheesecake Factory
The Pimento Garden
Cinnabutts
Sparrow Pizza
Windy’s
Cracker Bucket
Kansas Filleted Chicken
Rudfuckers
Reddish-Orange Julius
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Plus, my favorite submissions from readers:
Cabybara Express . . . . from @sweaternine
Burger Duke . . . . from @nickleggin
Steakback Outhouse . . . . from @pixies1
Tooters . . . . from @chucko78
National House of Pancakes . . . . from @benryerson
California Soup Kitchen . . . . from @jennassembly