Nov 11, 2009

Things I would tell myself in... 1984.



1984

Say, Say, Say... I'm really enjoying this. The further you go back, the easier it is to be a know-it-all. And, man, if you seriously have no advice for a douchebag 16-year-old, you definitely need a new drug.


Top Ten things I would tell myself in 1984:
  1. Listening to Duran Duran? Fine. Wearing three Duran Duran pins on your multi-pocketed jacket? The opposite of fine.
  2. Don't throw that party. Scott Gardner shows up.
  3. We're all really happy that whole D&D thing got back-burnered. It takes 18 double-zero strength to get a date while that's going on.
  4. Would it kill you to wear a pair of jeans?
  5. If you don't know three consecutive answers on a fill-in-the-blanks test, always go with Norway, Sweden, and Denmark. Make it your signature.
  6. The Cult or The Cure? Choose wisely.
  7. For the love of God, one camouflage article of clothing at a time.
  8. Easy on the gay jokes, Diceman.
  9. Instead of bitching about the sheet music available for sax, ask Mr. Van Dyne to get you some John Coltrane or Lou Marini... Hey, university is three years away and you need every secret weapon you can get. 
  10. You know how insecure you feel? Get over it. So is everyone.
P.S. Thank you for not smoking.







Nov 9, 2009

Things I would tell myself in... 1989.




1989


I ended up having a lot of fun with "Things I would tell myself in 1994", so I thought I'd keep it rolling. Keeping with our species' proclivity for all things base-ten, I'm honouring the David Letterman format.


Top Ten Things I would tell myself in 1989*


  1. That whole "Berlin Wall" thing? Important. Remembering where you were when Batman opened?... Not so much.
  2. If you pay the oil bill on time, they won't cut off your heat. I checked.
  3. Take advantage of your university experince by chatting up your profs once in a while. It puts you in the good books, and you may learn something before it's done. Hey! Hey! Hey!
  4. Put. The beer. Down.
  5. The House of Lords called. They no longer want credit for your bouffant.
  6. Call your mother.
  7. News flash. That weird artist you're trying to date is just as psycho as she lets on.
  8. Seriously, lose the cowboy boots.
  9. Good for you... grocery shopping at Kensington Market. Finally, a habit worth bragging about.
  10. Aerosmith is peaking now. Savour the moment.
Coming soon? Yep. 1984, baby.




* Other than... never, ever do that stupid John Cusack thing. If your romantic gesture of last resort involves "serenading" a girl with a Radio Shack boom-box while dressed like a homeless pedophile, you have truly scraped the bottom of the desperation barrel.

Nov 5, 2009

Things I would tell myself in... 1994.





1994


'If I met my younger self from back then today, I’d say to him, “You’re just paying your dues, Kiddo. Frickin’ get over yourself…” '


Hugh MacLeod is a guy who naturally inspires. His site, his art, his philosophy... it's all part of a package that, for me, cuts to the chase of life itself. Life is short, success is hard. And thank God for that.


Anyway, I'm not here to pat Hugh on the back. He doesn't need it. (Besides, I bought some art recently, and I figure we're about even.)


But that quote made me think... what would I say to myself, say 15 years ago? Other than, "Are you Sarah Connor?" 


I know that hardcore advice, like "stop drinking", or "exercise more" would fall on deaf ears; even if it were coming from a 350 lb. alcoholic with an electric voice-box, so I tried to keep it simple.


Here's my first 10 thoughts:
  1. Keep working... at anything that pays.
  2. Quit hoping to be a stand-up, and go be a stand-up.
  3. You can't have 20 priorities. It's an excuse to not do anything.
  4. Quit drinking at bars so much. It's too expensive.
  5. Call your mother.
  6. That Elastica CD you bought isn't fooling anyone.
  7. Do more weekend trips to places you've never been.
  8. Carry yourself in a way that would piss off your ex-girlfriend.
  9. I'm not kidding. Ditch the  f*@#ing cowboy boots.
  10. Stop waking up the neighbours next door. They have kids, for cryin' out loud.
Anyway, barring any new discoveries at CERN, I'm guessing I won't be doling this advice out to the guy on Spencer Avenue in 1994, but it's a fun exercise. 


Not lost on me: 
smart 41-year-old would start planning the conversation he was about to have with that 56-year-old coming down the street in his DeLorean.