I’ve never experienced a concussion from playing sports myself, but from what I understand, they feel something like having the flu with a hangover while seasick staring directly at the sun as Mike Tyson punches your brain.
It’s happened before and it will happen again: someone asks me, “You’re a comedian. Why do they even have ‘All-Girl’ comedy shows anyway?”. My knee-jerk response is, “why do you even care?”. But, I know better. My short answer is: because they enhance your experience of comedy, even if you never attend one. Since you asked, the longer answer is: the All-Female comedy show model is responsible for such things as the thriving Canadian music scene and could save television in this country. It’s not like there’s a lot of them happening in the first place, but they should be mandatory.
There’s almost nothing less interesting to me than hearing someone talk about his or her dreams. Aside from listening to them read their tax return, or analyze their playoff draft picks, which are… nope; I’d prefer to hear them talk about those things before struggling to stay awake as they attempt to describe their “crazy” dream. That’s why being a therapist who specializes in dream interpretation in clinical psychology has got to be one of the worst jobs in the world.
My “Man Brain” and I get into enough trouble on our own as it is; we don’t need any assistance with digging ourselves deeper into any holes of disapproval, thank you very much. Yet, at a recent Brunch with friends, I found myself in the glaring spotlight of unpopularity with the Momttendance because of a comment about a younger woman. Even worse, the “I just don’t understand the ‘Man Brain’ sometimes” comment about me came from a woman whom I had just met! But, what was worse than the even worse, was the comment that got me into trouble wasn’t even made by me- it was uttered by my WIFE!
If my calculations are correct, it will be anywhere from 3 months to 6.25 years before at least one of my kids realizes just how cool I actually am. That approximates the window of time between which my oldest child and youngest child graduate from high school. I’ve based this estimation on the scientific evidence I observed in how the perception I had of MY parents changed upon embarking for a post secondary education. I figure, despite how complex and wildly unpredictable the teenage brain is, there are certain consistencies to the human experience that are reliable in determining when your kids become aware of your true swagger.
Recently I was prepping one of my trivia shows and I came across a “factoid” that I had jotted down years ago about an infamous moment for a celebrity singer. I started crafting a short question about the incident, but stopped myself and wondered- “why would I ask a question about this?”. Sometimes contemplative pauses like this are due to second thoughts I have about the informative and entertaining merit of the “factoid”. In this case, it was because I remembered a promise I made to myself to avoid being carelessly mean-spirited towards people when trying to be entertaining and informative. I call it being “Casually Nasty”, and I believe it’s a more serious problem than being intentionally nasty.
As an entertainer, with a background in stand-up comedy, radio, television and performing live on-stage at various events, you might be surprised to hear that I consider myself an Introvert. It wasn’t until I had a discussion with my father years ago that it became clear that we’re BOTH Introverts. He a retired doctor of medicine; me a comedian; both cut from the same cloth, indeed. Not only did I now have an enlightened view of my own persona, but it helped solve an ongoing mystery in my relationship with my wife, who is most definitely an Extrovert.
Whether you’re married, dating, in a common-law relationship, or working it all “International” like Pitbull ft. Chris Brown, it’s not easy to keep the “love” alive. If you want to maintain that spark, and make your amorous relationships last, I’m going to share with you the one key thing you need for success.
WARNING: This post contains content that I find disturbing and gives me the squirms.
The most important thing I can tell you about my travel experiences as a self-diagnosed, semi-professional germophobe is that I still travel. This is an impressive feat of courage considering what I find disgusting about taxis, airports, airplanes, hotels, restaurants, conference centres, other random people and washrooms of any kind that are not attended to by my also-clean-freak wife. Before you nod knowingly and shrug wondering what’s so different for me from how you feel about this very same list of geogermal entities, let me ask you this- have you ever left a note for the maid at your hotel that says: “This room is cleaner than it was when I arrived. Take the day off. –Adam”.
I’m happy to say that I have only a few “uncomfortable” dating moments filed away in my portfolio of romance. That includes the “non-starters” where it just wasn’t going anywhere for anyone, which were somewhat awkward. Slightly more unpleasant were the dates where it was painfully obvious (to me and the waiter) that it was my companion who was feverishly scrambling for an exit strategy.