Saturday, December 18, 2010

An Uncle Kevin Exclusive: Santa Claus and the War on Christmas

Dear Connor,

First of all, Merry Christmas. I thought I’d tell you Merry Christmas while I still could. In case you haven’t watched the news, and I understand you have more important things to do, I wanted to let you know that there’s a war out there. A war…On Christmas!

I had heard about this war for years, but I never thought it’d reach Philadelphia. Sure, New York City and Los Angeles, they’ve got enemy combatants everywhere, but Philly? No way. We love Christmas in Philly. So when I saw on the news that they changed “The Christmas Village” in Philadelphia to “The Holiday Village” I nearly pooped my pants. How could this happen in Philadelphia? A place where Christmas is so passionately embraced.

And I know what you’re thinking, “Didn’t Philly fans throw snowballs at Santa Claus?”

That was a huge misunderstanding. Santa actually started that snowball fight. He loves snowball fights. It’s like his favorite thing. In fact, as soon as I heard about the Christmas Village thing I called Santa. I knew as soon as Santa heard about it he would fly down here and get in faces. That’s how Santa rolls.

Thankfully for you I recorded our whole conversation. Don’t tell anyone I showed you this. Santa doesn’t give his cell number out to just anyone. I had to get on twenty consecutive “Good” lists to get it. So keep that in mind if you ever want some face time with the big man.

Anyway, here’s Santa and I figuring this whole "WOC" thing out:

Beep boop bop beep beep boop bop (me dialing) beep beep boop bop beep bop (North Pole extension)

Jingle jangle jingle jangle (it’s ringing)

Santa Claus: Yo! Yo! Yo! This is Santa.

Uncle Kevin: Santa, it’s me, Uncle Kevin. What’s with the “Yo! Yo! Yo!”? Don’t you mean “Ho! Ho! Ho!”?

SC: Why would I answer the phone laughing? That’s psychotic.

UK: Good point.

SC: I’m just messing with you. I do say, 'Ho! Ho! Ho!' when I answer the phone. I saw it was you on my caller i.d., thought I’d flip the script on you.

UK: You're a weird dude, Santa.

SC: Coming from you that doesn't really carry much weight.

UK: Alright, alright. Enough banter. I have something very serious to talk about!

SC: Alright, calm down. Why don’t you sit on my figurative lap and tell Santa what's bothering you?

UK: Figurative lap? Really? Anyway, it’s about Christmas. They’ve declared war on Christmas, Santa. War…on Christmas!

SC: What? Who has?

UK: They have.

SC: Who’s “they”?

UK: I don't know who "they" are, maybe it's Al Qaeda, maybe it's the Russians, maybe it's the Grinch, I don't know. I'm not a secret agent, I don't have access to that kind of information.

SC: Well, how did "they" declare war on Christmas?

UK: In very sneaky, sinister ways.

SC: I'm going to need you to start getting specific here. This is kind of my busy season.

UK: Well, I don't know when it started, but the attacks have been adding up exponentially: Office Christmas parties have become "Holiday parties". The greeters at Wal-Mart say, “Happy Holidays” instead of Merry Christmas. Then, and this is the camel that broke the straw in half, they changed the "Christmas Village" in Philadelphia to the "Holiday Village". It’s unprovoked and unwarranted aggression on the greatest day of the year. If we don’t stop it soon Christmas will be gone. No more Christmas, which means no more You, which means I won’t get any presents, which means my nephew Connor will never even know what Christmas is all about! You've got to do something! I'm sorry I'm shouting! I'm gonna stop! I'm calm.

SC: Ho! Ho! Ho! That’s what you’re so upset about?

UK: I’m very upset and I don’t appreciate you laughing at me. I come to you for help help with Christmas—which is your thing by the way—and you laugh at me. Real nice, Santa. Real nice.

SC: Ho! Ho! Ho! I don't mean to belittle your concern, but there's nothing for you to worry your giant head over.

UK: How can you say that? Wait--giant head, really? You couldn't pass up a chance, huh? Don't you see? This is just the beginning, Santa. First they stop us from saying Merry Christmas, next they won’t let us have Christmas trees, after that the Christmas lights go. Eventually they’ll come after you.

SC: Woah!, woah!, woah!, calm down. No one is getting rid of me. I’m Santa Claus. I’m super duper famous. And everyone loves me. I’m not going anywhere. You need to relax and not worry so much.

UK: So you’re okay with them changing the name of the "Christmas Village "to the "Holiday Village"?

SC: I am actually. First of all, there’s only one real Christmas Village, and I live in it. The rest are just tributes to my town. And changing it from Holiday Village won’t change what it means or what it will mean to children like your nephew Connor.

UK: But aren’t you scared that some day people won’t know what Christmas is?

SC: Ho! Ho! Ho! Not at all. I think you're vastly underestimating how popular Christmas is? It’s the most universal holiday of all time. Even the Roman Empire couldn’t imagine having a day as widely recognized and culturally significant as Christmas is in America.

UK: I don’t think you understand the implications.

SC: Ho, ho, ho. The implications.

UK: I noticed your lack of enthusiasm on that “Ho, ho, ho.” Are you trying to say the implications aren’t real? Are you mocking me, Santa?

SC: I’m just asking you to think for a second. When do you first hear Christmas music on the radio?

UK: I don't know, Thanksgiving. Why?

SC: Okay, that means Christmas music has been widely played across the nation for a month.

UK: So?

SC: So I’m trying to tell you, Christmas is everywhere. And not just for a day. It’s a whole month. And think about your favorite TV sitcoms.

UK: What about them?

SC: Every sitcom in the last 50 years has had a Christmas episode. Not just one, but one for every year they were on television.

UK: I guess that’s true, remember that time Zach dated the homeless girl and Mr. Moody wouldn't let her be in the Christmas pl

SC: Yeah, yeah, SBTB was a quality show, my point is, Christmas is at its peak. Music, television—

UK: And movies? I mean, there are thousands of Christmas movies, some made in the 1950's that still play today.

SC: Now you’re getting it…

UK: I mean, “Christmas Vacation” is the best “Vacation” movie. Even the terrible ones will play every year on TV. And without Christmas, where would Charlie Brown be?

SC: Exactly. Charlie Brown calls me every year to wish me a Merry Christmas and to thank me for his entire career. It’s the least I could do, he’s kind of pathetic.

UK: I agree, I mean how many times can you fall for the football gag? It’s like, ‘Hey, Charlie, get the net!' Ya know?

SC: Totally. And we don't own just entertainment we have a strangle hold on every food market, pharmacy, bank, dentist’s office, restaurant, and casino.

UK: I don't know about that. I think you're getting a little over-confident, Santa.

SC: Am I? Name a public place you’ve been to in December that didn’t have Christmas decorations, Christmas music, or Christmas related products for sale.

UK: Well, some decorations aren’t that noticeable.

SC: Not to you maybe. This is why you were so upset, you didn't realize how that Christmas has been killing it for so long that a little thing like name of a mock-village, or an office party, or the greeting of some poor Wal-mart employee get you to overreact.

UK: Yeah, but couldn’t this be the beginning of what could become a massive derailment of Christmas around the world? It’s like, “First they came for the Christmas Village and I said nothing, then they came for Merry Christmas and I said—

SC: Let me stop you there before you say something you’re going to regret. You're referencing a poem about the Holocaust and I'm assuming you were unaware of that, so I won't blame you for sounding like an idiot.

UK: Well, excuse me for not knowing where things come from or what they mean.

SC: You’re not excused of that. Not at all. What I’m trying to explain to you is this “War on Christmas” isn’t a war at all. It’s an attempt at inviting more people to the awesome party that is Christmas. If anything dialing the down Christmas is in the very spirit of Christmas.

UK: I’m not following.

SC: What is Christmas the season of?

UK: Winter.

SC: No, dummy. Giving. Christmas is the Season of Giving. Do you ever watch the end of these movies you love so much?

UK: Of course, just messing with you, Santa. I know it's the season of giving, but what does this have to do with changing the name of the “Christmas Village” to the “Holiday Village”?

SC: Scaling back the use of “Christmas” and replacing it with “Holiday” is a way of "giving" everyone else a break. Imagine if you were on the outside looking in on Christmas? And no matter where you went Christmas was there, but you couldn't hang out with Christmas, cause you have your own Christmas--only you don't call it Christmas. You call it Hanukkah, or Kwanzaa, or Festivus. Why shouldn't Frank Costanza and his family be able to enjoy the tiny village of lights? What's wrong with making those awkward IT guys feel a little less awkward at the office party?

UK: Isn’t it kind of racist of you to assume the guys from IT are Hindu?

SC: Maybe, if Hindu was a race. And I never said the IT guys were Hindu. I said they were awkward and that's just science. Computer science.

UK: Good point.

SC: I just want you to know that Christmas isn’t under attack. No matter what villages are called or how many Christmas trees are inside your local CVS or what those rabble rousing talking heads on the evening news conjure up to get you to call me in the first place, Christmas has never been about any of it.

UK: But you just spent the last 10 minutes explaining to me that Christmas's ever present stamp on popular culture is what makes it so invincible against any and all opposition. Now, you're telling me none of that matters?

SC: I mentioned that stuff to make you understand we’re not at war, but the reason Christmas will never go away, the reason you and your nephew will always have a Christmas is because the people who care about you enough to give you the gift of Christmas. As long as people care enough to celebrate Christmas with the people they love, Christmas will always be around--no matter what it's called on some fluorescent sign.

UK: So you’re saying that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet?

SC: I mean, that’s kind of a lame way of saying it, but yeah, basically.

UK: So do you say “Happy Holidays” now instead of “Merry Christmas”?

SC: Of course not, and neither should you. You love Christmas, I love Christmas, there’s nothing wrong with shouting, "Merry Christmas!" at every stranger you see. Although, you shouldn't talk to strangers, it’s kinda dangerous for someone like you.

UK: What do you mean someone like me? I can handle talking to strangers. I'm a grown up.

SC: Actually, I was thinking of the strangers. They don't deserve that kind of torture, especially around Christmas.

UK: Thanks a lot, Santa. You’re doing a whole lot for my self-esteem.

SC: Well, I’m sorry, I just thought someone should tell you. How about if you tell me what you want for Christmas, would that make you feel better?

UK: I want the same thing I’ve been asking for since I was 12.

SC: You know I can’t do that.

UK: Well that doesn’t change what’s in my heart now does it, Santa?

SC: Damnit, Kevin, Natalie Portman is a grown woman with free will, I can’t just deliver her to you gift wrapped. It’s against the law. Not just U.S. law, but basic human law, and most definitely Christmas law. I mean, what would you have me do?

UK: Not my problem, Santa, not my problem.

SC: Alright, well I’ve got some serious work to do, it’s like four days before my big day. Have I answered all your questions?

UK: I guess, but one day I expect you to come through on that wish.

SC: Well, wish in one hand, poop in the other…

UK: Real nice. Your language lately has been less than Santa-like, by the way.

SC: Well it's kind of a stressful time of year, maybe you could give me a break. Merry Christmas, Kevin!

UK: Merry Christmas, Santa. You sonuva--

Connor, I how about that? For someone as magical as Santa Claus he's a pretty logical guy. Also, kind of a jerk. But most of that stuff goes back along ways with me and the fat man. Though he did make me feel better, he's a pretty good listener--most people with white beards are. And if he's not freaked out about the war on Christmas, maybe we shouldn't be either. And that sappy thing he said about Christmas being whatever the people who love you make it--it was super sappy... ...BUT, I think I understand what he was saying. And since I have intimate knowledge of the many people who do love you...I don't think your Christmas is going anywhere. In fact, knowing your mom, you've been listening to Christmas music non-stop for the past month. You may not be able to speak very well yet, but you could probably put out a Christmas album.

Yeah, I don't think your Christmas is going anywhere anytime soon.

Merry Christmas, Connor!

Your Favorite Uncle,

Kevin

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

The Boy Who Cried Pretzel...

Dear Connor,


I need to talk you about something very serious. Something I hoped I'd never have to speak to you about. Something that has taken over public discourse and is the subject of several marches on Washington. I'm of course talking about the pretzel addiction epidemic. It might even be a pandemic. I'm not totally sure because no one has successfully explained to me the difference.

At any rate, I'm worried about you. I noticed in my recent visit that you’re growing up, getting a little bigger and a little wiser every day. Wise enough to know what you like. And what you like are pretzel rods. If I didn't know better I’d say you were made up of mostly pretzel rod. But I do know better. I know you are made up of mostly water cause you’re a human baby, but I’m pretty sure the rest is all pretzel rod.

And I’m not judging you. I would never do that. I just want to tell you a story. A story about a boy. A boy who loved pretzels--some say he still does--but those people need to mind their own business and let the boy be. Who are they to say the boy has had too many pretzels? He knows how many pretzels he can handle. He happens to have a high tolerance for pretzels. He can pretz with the best of em.

Alright, I can't keep up this ruse any longer. I can't lie to you, Connor. The little boy was me. I was a addicted to pretzels. I was a Pretz Head. A Pretzophite. And I don't want you to fall into the same habits and behavior as I did. Like hanging outside 7-Eleven waiting for it to open so you can get a fresh pretzel only to realize 7-Eleven never closes so you feel dumb for sitting out there in the cold for hours. Sure, you saw a bunch of people go in and get coffee and yet you still sat out there because you figured maybe they all just worked there. How many people could possibly work at one 7-Eleven?!? The pretzels had warped my mind.

I know what you're thinking. "What do you know about loving pretzels, old man? You don't know what it's like for me and my other baby friends. You don't know about pretzin'. Quit narcin' my buzz. Quit harshin' my gig. Did you really sit outside a 7-Eleven and wait for it to open?" And though I am troubled you've already started disregarding the g's in the suffixes of your words, I am not here to narc buzzes or harsh gigs. I just want you to know pretzel addiction can be a painful condition to grow up with.

You're lucky we live in such a progressive and civilized society that protects you from yourself. Back when I was growing up in the 1990's things were different. It was like the Wild West, but with pretzels. Pretzels were everywhere and ripe for the taking.

Whenever you were stuck in traffic on the way to the Vet to catch a Phils or Birds game or headed down the shore, these magical men would show up selling delicious pretzels. No one knew where they came from and no one cared. "Four delicious pretzels for a dollar", he'd say. (Or something like that. I never actually talked to them. I was entranced by the salty treat I was about to receive.) And just like that you had a pretzel of your very own.

And it didn't matter that you had the middle seat or that for some reason you couldn't stop hitting yourself--which made it increasingly difficult to answer your brother's question as to why you were hitting yourself--because you had a pretzel and everything was right with the world.

We even had pretzels at school. They sold them at recess for the same super low price as the mysterious highway pretzel salesmen. You could lift up one couch cushion and find enough change to keep you in pretzels for weeks. Maybe months.

But it was the 90's, it was all free love and pretzels all the time. President Clinton was in the White House running the country--some say the world--and it was just one big party with that guy. A party...that never ran out of pretzels.

By 1997 I was eating 3 or 4 soft pretzels a day at lunch; washing it down with two cups of cheese dipping sauce and a can of Mug root beer. True story. I would be picked on daily by the other children. They would call me names like "Pretzel Boy" and "Boy Who Loves Pretzels" and "That Kid With The Pretzels" (It was actually just one kid and he wasn't very creative).

Then one day everything changed.

Jim Garner's mustache and his Action News Team did a little investigative reporting. What they found was disturbing (The results of investigative reporting always seem to be disturbing.). Do you remember those awesome men I told you about earlier? The ones who would show up on the highway whenever you were in traffic to sell you pretzels. Well, it turns out those gentlemen weren't the most sanitary Good Samaritans. (Honestly though, where were they supposed to wash their hands? They appeared from thin air onto the highway.)

Soon enough the pretzel guys were gone. And now even WaWa and 7-Eleven cover their pretzels with plastic because of the scandal. I'm pretty sure there's a Surgeon General's Warning on the wrapper too. Frankly, without all the germs and boogers the pretzels just don't taste the same.

Sure, the world is safer for it. People can sleep at night knowing their pretzels are safe, but at what price? Now we have to go out of our way to one of the several thousand convenient stores on every block to get a pretzel. How "convenient" is it if you have to actually leave your car? It's not right, Connor. It's just not right.

You know what, I started this letter thinking I was going to tell you about variety and moderation, but now I'm just angry I can't walk outside right now and get a pretzel. I want a pretzel, Connor. Pretzels are awesome. I miss those pretzel guys. I miss them and I miss their germs. Their germs tasted delicious. How do we even know germs are harmful? Science? According to my friend Gob Bluth, the jury is still out on science.

You've been right about pretzels since the beginning. They're salty delicious treats that you literally can't have enough of. I say enjoy your pretzel freedom while it lasts. There's no telling when the government is going to knock on our door and take our pretzels. Sure, the Pretzel Amendment in The Constitution allows us to keep and bare pretzels, but who knows what the potato chip lobbyists have up their sleeve?

So your lesson today is pretzels are delicious, the government wants to take our pretzels, and...um...um... GO PHILLIES!!!

Your Favorite Uncle,

Kevin


Post Script: Although I’m very proud of you for learning how to share, sometimes you can be a little too persistent with the offering of the drooled on pretzel rod. Don’t get me wrong, I prefer soft pretzels to hard pretzels, I do. It’s just I’m not always hungry. And besides, you deserve the whole thing.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Happy Football Day!

Connor,

Oh boy! Oh boy! It's finally here! The day we've been waiting for all year! I'm so happy I may shed a tear! Ummm... I hope Brett Favre gets knocked on his rear? I'll have a bagel with extra shmear??

Okay, so I'm not a poet. Who cares? It's football day! Finally. It seems like a billion years since the Super Bowl--which would make the old keg in my backyard a billion year old keg. But we made it. It's really here. In a matter of minutes the first kick will be kicked and the 2010 NFL season will be underway. In honor of this special day I wanted to write to you and discuss the many great things that will (probably) happen over this season.

Usually I'm not a big fan of predictions or the prognosticators behind those predictions, but that's because the prognosticator isn't me. And you know how I detest opinions that aren't mine. It just doesn't make sense to listen to others when you know in your heart of hearts that you've never been wrong about one thing ever. Not ever.

Anyway, without Freddy Ado, here are my guaranteed, locked up, full-proofed, super awesome predictions for the 2010 NFL season.

#1: Brett Favre Will Die.

Not like really die. Or that an old kicker he used to hold for is plotting revenge on him or anything like that. Just his story will finally die. Sometime during this season Brett Favre's career will finally come to an end. Ten thousand sports writers around the world will shed a tear right after they call their publisher about the Brett Favre book they've been secretly writing entitled, "Having Fun Out There: The Brett Favre Story and Other Drams I've Had About Brett and His Wrangler Jeans". What I would love to happen is for one announcer to just go rogue and decide he's not going to mention how much fun Brett is having out there or how much he just loves playing the game. Instead, he does just the opposite. Not just announce how much he despises Brett Favre, but also just make things up. Get the whole Brett Favre story wrong to piss off everyone who has spent to much time shoving that story down our throats every Sunday for the last 20 years. Something like this:

"And here comes Brett Favre the legendary quarterback. Known for his conservative style and game management Brett Favre has impressed us all ever since he graduated from the Rhode Island School of Design where his father taught him everything he knows about exterior illumination. As many of you already know, Brett Favre hates football. Unfortunately his dream of being a professional animal stylist fell through after a tough addiction to cat nip made him leave the profession forever. After that he had a string of jobs that he quit, but then tried to come back to work the following day as if it never happened. That's when he stumbled upon this NFL quarterback gig that takes a little bit of his soul every day. Because, like I said, he hates this game. He hates it so very very much."

That's all I'm asking.


#2 The Detroit Lions Win the Super Bowl

...in a Madden season that I simulated from the 1995 Sega Genesis edition. This is less of a prediction than a fact.

# 3 Donovan McNabb Misses Multiple Games

Sorry Washington. It's not you, it's him. Okay, it's you too. You just have horrible luck. And a horrible owner. And an ugly uniform. With a racist name. I don't believe in curses, but I have seen Pet Sematary a bunch and I just wouldn't mess with Native Americans. I'm pretty sure they've gotten over being confused with Indians from India, they've accepted that. But Redskins? I can't imagine they're cool with that.

#4 The Super Bowl Will Make Me Angry

I hate the Super Bowl. It's everything about football that a person who like football hates. Everything done before, at half, and during the Super Bowl is meant to keep the people that hate football entertained. Halftime shows are the worst. I don't need Shania Twain and Justin Timberlake prancing around for 3 hours. I just want to watch the game. Pregame shows are bad enough on a regular Sunday--which is why I love the Pacific Time Zone, 10am kickoffs are awesome. On Super Bowl Sunday the pregame is 12 hours long and has 32 versions of Michael Irving yelling some nonsense about "The Peyton Mannings and the Sean Peytons" when there is only one Peyton manning and one Sean Peyton and I just...I just can't take it. It's the worst. I'm already angry. Let's just move on.

#5 Ron "Jaws" Jaworski Will Grow His Mustache Back

What are you doing, Jaws? You look weird without your mustache and you've been mustache free for a while now. No one is getting used to it. We all miss your mustache. It's apart of us as much as it is you. Plus, you're a weird looking dude. The more facial hair the better. And if we can agree on one thing as a country, as human beings, it's that there aren't enough mustaches in...(wait for it)...(wait for it)..."The National Football League". Do it for your country, Jaws.

#6 Your Uncle Kevin Will Win His Fantasy League

This is once again less of a prediction and more of a fact. Naming my team after Swayze for the last five years will finally pay off. Because Swayze is dead now, and like a Jedi, he is more powerful dead than alive.

#7 Tom Brady Will Win People's Sexiest Man Alive

I mean, he's been getting robbed for years. Matt Damon, really? Really?!? Come on. And this year he's going for it. He's got this new haircut modeled after the Justin Beiber. He's clearly going for the younger demographic. He's two years removed from knee surgery, which means his sexiness is basically back to 100%. He's got to win. He's just got to.

#8 A Cincinnati Bengal Will Be Arrested

I know this is one of those safe, boring predictions, but considering 98% of their current roster is on probation wouldn't it be unlikely for them to risk yet another arrest? Wouldn't it? I just hope it's not Pacman. And I hope it's T.O. But unless the president passes some kind of Anti-Douche Law, it's unlikely T.O. will be arrested. (And likely Pacman will be)

#9 No One Cares About My Fantasy Team

I know. I know you don't care. No fantasy football story is every interesting to anyone except the person telling it. It just isn't. It's like an unbreakable law of physics. Gravity exists. The earth goes around the sun. Eli Manning is a dork. And no one cares how you barely lost your fantasy game last week. It's impossible to make your team interesting to another human being even if that person is in your fantasy league. It's the ultimate subject where people just wait for you to stop talking so they can talk. And even though I know this to be true, I will still bore you with the legend of Team Swayze...it's really an epic tale.

#10 Your Grandmother Will Tell You How Much She Hates Football, But She Secretly Loves It

She may complain about spending all day Sunday cooking while your father, your uncles, and your grandfather all sit in front of the TV with their laptops on their laps following their respective fantasy teams and the Eagles, but she loves it. Even more than she loves football though, she loves complaining about it's stranglehold over our family. And we secretly love how she complains about it every Sunday. Why? Because it's tradition. And tradition just gets seared into your being. It feels like home. And even if you don't realize you love it, you will miss it when it's not around. And I do.

Happy Football Day, Connor.

Your Favorite Uncle,

Kevin

Monday, July 12, 2010

Taking Your Talents to South Beach...

Connor,

Hey having a great summer? KIT. See ya next year! School Sucks! (Those are yearbook jokes, something you'll probably never have at this point. I think the Facebook has rendered yearbooks obsolete.)

Anyway, I've decided it's time for another letter to my favorite nephew. I've also decided to tell you about the much maligned one-hour special titled "The Decision" and why it's not the end of the world.

Last week Lebron James--the most gifted athlete on the planet--officially decided to leave the Cleveland Cavaliers and "take his talents to South Beach" to play for the Miami Heat. I know this may not seem like a big deal, but it was. Whether it was or it wasn't it was. (it makes sense if you read it a bunch of times.)

His choice to leave Cleveland was interesting to most people because they couldn't escape the 24/7 coverage on ESPN and news is slow in the summer.

The way he announced his decision was interesting to people because it was really interesting. To most of us, Lebron James is a seemingly good guy. He did not come off this way during his hour long special. "The Decision" made several crucial mistakes that have widely been criticized. Those criticisms are as follows:

(1)Lebron didn't think about (or care) what he was doing to Cleveland fans (and owner) with such a grandiose "I think we should break up" announcement on live television. This is probably true.

(2)The hour long process to answer one question was horribly self-serving, narcissistic and worst of all--it was really, really bad television. It was one Snookie short of a complete and total embarrassment to American culture. This is all true.

(3)And to top it off--to put the rotten cherry on this poop flavored sundae--Lebron gets Jim Gray to be the guy who interviews him. Jim Gray is the worst. Or possibly in this case, the best--for an event that came across as completely unaware of itself, you might as well get the one reporter who never seems to be aware of the moment. Sadly true.

These things are indisputable. But we should get over it and Cavs fans should get over it and poor heart broken Cavs owner Dan Gilbert should get over it.

Lebron has been labeled the villian in this situation by most members of the media. Dan Gilbert wrote a letter to Cavs fans which I think even you would have found immature and overly emotional. (And I watched you get upset because your mom had to go to the bathroom and you were left with me for 10 seconds. Sorry about all three times I let you hit your head during that span, by the way.)

This is brings us to why I felt it important for you to hear this story. We all, as fans, idolize these complete strangers and--to a certain extent--that's perfectly normal. No one was more idolized by the Cleveland fans than Lebron James, so I understand why they are upset he left.

What we must understand is that the relationship we have with athletes is completely one sided. As much as I want Chase Utley to care about me the way I care about him, it's just not gonna happen. I miss Brian Dawkins, but he probably doesn't miss me. (Although, if anyone were to get attached to individual fans it might be Dawk, he cried during many a interview. He's a passionate dude.) These athletes are still real people and the only loyalty they need to have is to their friends and family. And that's exactly how Lebron claimed he came to his decision.

Lebron said he chose to go to Miami because he felt he would be happiest there. And he sought his mother's advice when making his decision. He wasn't thinking about his aspiring global icon status (NY Knicks) or doing what would keep his image in tact and make the most money (Cavs). He just wanted to play basketball with his friends (Wade and Bosh) and have a chance to win. (And live in Miami--which has the most beautiful, um...beaches. When you're older I'll tell you what's on those beaches that makes them so beautiful.)

What's better than playing a game you love and were born to play for millions of dollars? Playing with your friends. I mean, isn't doing what you love with the people you care about what everyone wants? To me, his decision was the most American thing he could do--the pursuit of happiness personified. That's Constitutional, yo.

I think Lebron is a great role model for you. Work hard and make the most of the talents you were given and you get to do what you want, where you want, with the people you want to do it with. Remember that and everything else is cream cheese. (copyright: Coach from Teenwolf)

Also, as a basketball fan, it's gonna be awesome to watch those guys play together. You gotta love sports!

(The only real downside to Lebron in Miami is it further complicating the Jay-Z line, "If Jesus payin' Lebron I'm payin' Dwayne Wade" I didn't understand it before, and now it's just completely baffling. Is Jay-Z the devil in this situation? Is he God? And why do either own a basketball team? It's a mystery.)

I only hope one day you get to "take your talents to South Beach". Metaphorically speaking.

Your Favorite Uncle,

Kevin

Post Script: Tell your dad Happy Birthday! Yay Birthdays!

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

One Year Over And What Have We Learned...

Connor,
Happy 1st birfday, one year ago today you were birfed. You successfully survived your first lap around the sun. Whether you're opening a business or being a human person the first year is always the toughest. And you did it with flying colors, most of which came from your diaper, but flying colors nonetheless. And believe me when I say this, it only gets easier from here on out. It certainly doesn’t become more complicated, confusing, or challenging. I mean, you’ve already mastered the walking and eating parts and that’s most of what life is right there.

Birthdays are great because you get free stuff just for being alive and there’s cake. But since you're a dude—albeit a very small dude—your birthday will mean less than if you were say, not a dude. Because for not a dudes—let's call them girls for brevity’s sake--birthdays are much more important. You may be wondering why that is. Well, I have no idea. I can help fill you in on a lot of things, Connor. But the complexity of the female psyche is something I try unsuccessfully not to think about and I have yet to find any satisfying answers. Just know that boys and girls are different and you can forget a dude’s birthday without any repercussion, but don’t you ever forget a girl’s birthday. Not ever.

When you get to my age your birthday isn’t nearly as important because not a whole lot changes for you. Come to think of it, I can’t remember what I did on any birthday except for my last one and even that is a little hazy. An Irish pub was involved and I think I challenged an old lady to an arm wrestling match. If my memory is correct, I won the match convincingly.

I may not be able to remember my birthdays, but I could give you a detailed account of the time everyone forgot Michelle’s birthday on Full House or the time everyone forgot Screech’s birthday on Saved By the Bell or the time Will got Ashley’s favorite singer to sing to her at her birthday party and many other birthdays of fictional characters. Why is this? I don’t know. But try to make friends, Connor. Friends are important. Real ones. Not just people who you think are your friends until their show gets canceled and you never see them again. Unless they’re syndicated and then you’ll see them on re-runs, but it’s not the same, Connor. It’s not the same.

ANYWAY, I don’t want you to end up like me. I don’t want you to confuse fiction—poor unsophisticated fiction at that—with real life. It’s no way to live. Thankfully, there’s almost no shot of that happening since a string of unfortunate events would have to occur for you to be as socially inept or as detached from reality as your uncle Kevin. So let’s forget I said any of this and just look into the future. Let’s take a look at your next 20 birthdays and what separates the good birthdays from the great birthdays.

Ages 2 through 9

Free stuff and cake. Not too shabby.

Age 10

This is a big deal because history is defined by decades, so whatever is popular from 2009-2019 will be ingrained in your psyche whether you like it or not. I know we've gone over this before. It's the reason I can't change the station if Ah Ha’s “Take On Me” comes on the radio. For you it will probably be some Lady Gaga or Miley Cyrus song and I'm truly sorry for that. Age 10 is pretty cool because you add a digit to your age and that won’t happen again until you turn 100, so it’s pretty special. And 10 is just a cool number, when people ask you your age and you fire back with 10, they’re always impressed.

Ages 11-15

Awkward. Girls. More Awkward. Good Luck.

Age 16

This is a big one. Making it to 16 is tough. You’ve been waiting for it since you turned 13, and those are three, long, awkward years. But this is your year. You get your license and the freedom and independence of being able to drive yourself to the movies is indescribable. For your parents, however, just reading this paragraph and thinking about you driving is scaring them to death. Your aunt Lauren has been driving for several years and no one is really comfortable with it. Just remember, Spiderman, with great power comes great responsibility. And be sure to watch The Bronx Tale before your first date—it’ll save you some time.

Age 17

One more year ‘til you’re 18.

Age 18

Congratulations you can vote!! But it’s 2017, so I’m not sure what you can vote on. You missed re-electing president Palin by just one year. Too bad. According to the U.S. government you are now an adult, but only to the U.S. government. To everyone else you are still a child. So the “I’m 18!! I’m an adult!!” argument won’t get you anywhere. Also, everything you think you know, the exact opposite is actually true—I know, it sucks.

Age 19

Last year as a teenager, maybe now you’ll get some respect. Good luck with that.

Age 20

They should just get rid of this age completely. Possibly the most frustrating birthday there is. It’s the limbo of adolescence. Is there any responsibility you can’t handle at 20 that you can handle at 21? I don’t think there is. But what’s another 365 days, right?

Age 21

You made it. You now have the rights of every other freedom loving American. It’s a great feeling. And what makes it even better is knowing you lasted 21 years without drinking one drop of alcohol. Riiiiiiight.

After 21 you stop paying attention to your birthday. Some days I’m not even sure how old I am. As you get older you realize your birthday really isn’t about you, it’s about your mom. I mean, she did all the work really. And your birthday will always mean more to her than it will to you. All you really did on your birthday was show up. So with that said, Happy Connor’s 1st birthday, Casey.

I gotta go be some place.

Your Favorite Uncle,

Kevin




Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Coocoo For Coco's Poof

Dear Connor,

It's 2010, which is read as "twenty ten", not two thousand ten, the former is more concise and its the way movie posters will do it, so everyone will have to accept it as law. Actually, movie posters have already made this decision with "2012". So I guess this didn't need explaining. Unless you were unaware that our dialect is dictated by movie posters, in which case, duh.

ANYWAY, we're now a month into 2010 and I still don't know what to make of the 00's (read: aughts). I know it may be too early to say this, but the aughts might be the most non-
descript decade in the history of the world. Is that a bold statement? Possibly. Could we make an argument? Sure. Are we? No.

Instead of the typical decade-in-review I want to address what's happened in 2010 thus far--just like Mark McGwire, I'm not here to talk about the past. Also, like
McGwire, I've taken enough steroids to kill all six Ultimate Warriors, spent most of the past decade in a blind Hulk-like rage and am unable to recall anything I've done in the last 20 years.

(Note: I will spend the remainder of this letter talking about the past.)

So far this year the leading story in the world of infotainment has been the debacle at NBC involving it's late night talk show hosts Jay Leno and Conan O'Brien. Since you probably haven't been following this story, let me give you a background on these two entertainers, then I will objectively tell you what happened. Objectively.

Jay Leno:
  • A comedian who made his rise during the late 1970's.
  • Only known contribution to comedy: pretending to get hit by a car to help end the comic strike of 1979
  • Stabbed David Letterman in the back and stole The Tonight Show in 1992
  • Consistently sports the Canadian Tuxedo
  • Has never made anyone with an I.Q. over 80 laugh
  • Became very successful by pandering, delivering jokes in a high pitch squeal, and stealing bits from other comedians.
  • Has the world's largest chin
Conan O'Brien:
  • Wrote for Saturday Night Live from 1987-1991
  • Wrote for The Simpsons 1992-1993. (I watched this season recently and it might be the best season ever. It's certainly when they started hitting their stride. Mr. Plow, Marge vs. The Monorail, The Itchy and Scratchy Movie, Wacking Day, A Streetcar Named Marge, Kamp Krusty... I mean the episode list is like a 'Best Of' compilation. O'Brien is given the sole writing credit on three episodes, one of which, Marge vs. The Monorail, is on every Simpson's fan Top 10. I love it because it's hilarious and clever and my middle school once put on the play "The Music Man" so I even understand the references to a 1962 musical--which I've always been strangely proud of.)
  • Plucked out of obscurity in 1993 by Lorne Michaels to replace David Letterman as host of The Late Show. In it's 17 year run, Late Night with Conan O'Brien has brought us comedy gold that include: In the Year 2000, Robert Smigel's Triumph the Insult Comic Dog, The Andy vs. Conan staring contests, The String Dance, and of course The Masturbating Bear
  • Is known to resemble the President of Finland and actress Tilda Swinton. Despite his debilitating Irish look, he has somehow had a successful career in television.
Now, those are the indisputable facts about each guy. Facts. Why is it important for you to know who these two men are? Because they represent two completely different ideologies in America. A distinction I think you need to be aware of. It's the difference between people who enjoy being challenged with entertainment and people who need to wear a helmet while watching television. It's the difference between people who respect comedy as something that's alive and evolving and people who think "Jay Walking" and misspelled headlines is funny.

The point is, Connor, there's a war on comedy and you have to pick a side. I talk a lot about comedy, basically to anyone who will listen and to many who just pretend to listen. Being a child of television, an obsessive student of comedy, and a creature of the night, I became a fan of late night television at a very young age. I think I was about your age when I decided I liked Letterman over Leno. Maybe slightly older. I can still remember trying to stay up for Letterman's Top Ten--then I would flip it over to reruns of
Cheers and Night Court. Eventually I was able to stay up even later and I discovered Conan O'Brien. I'd never seen anything like him, he was all over the place physically and his comedy was cerebral and juvenile at the same time. He was a walking cartoon. He was the first comedian I could identify with. So naturally, when I heard he was taking over the Tonight Show and Leno--who I never understood--would be retiring I was overjoyed. I get Conan earlier and Leno disappears. It's a win/win. This however, is not what happened.

Leno lingered around. Conan was put in a position to fail and as a result wasn't his usual self. And in the end, Conan lost his job and Jay Leno took back the
Tonight Show. It's the biggest network debacle since the last time they gave Jay Leno the Tonight Show. You can't really blame Leno, he's just looking out for Leno, which is what he's always done and always will do. It's who he is. As for Conan, his dream of hosting the Tonight Show was bitter and short-lived. But he'll be better because of it.

Where's the lesson in all this? That's a good question, Connor. On the surface, it would seem the lesson is look out for your own interests, sell-out to the lowest common denominator, give no thought to how your actions affect anyone else and no matter how lacking you are in talent or ability you will succeed. But let's not judge this book by it's ass-backwards cover.

The truth is, Conan O'Brien has had incredible success. He wasn't given the
Tonight Show--or The Late Show for that matter--because he's really good looking (debilitating Irishness) or because his dad hosted the show before him or because he was willing to become the antithesis of comedy to please the retarded American public. His success has come from undeniable talent, hard work, being himself, and always taking the high road. His fans are loyal because we know we can trust him to always challenge us and never talk down to us. And we'll be waiting for him in September when he gets picked up by Fox.

As for Leno and NBC, they'll continue to dumb it down and they'll continue to get the ratings. But who cares, that's got nothing to do with us. Live and Let Be Dumb. In the meantime, I suggest you check out Season 4 of the
Simpsons, it's really, really good.

(I was gonna talk more about other news stories: Tiger Woods, The Jersey Shore, Some homeless guy singing about people's pants being on the ground. But I figure in 20 years you'll see Tiger on Sports Center, you'll see President Situation on CNN, and that homeless guy will be dead.)

Also, tell your Aunt Lauren Happy Birthday for me. And give her a nice birthday poop to clean up.

Your Favorite Uncle,

Kevin