5/5/5: Three Digits That Can Undermine Your Suspension of Disbelief

Happy Cinco de Mayo and God Bless the Sikma Pivot. May you sneak a sip or two of booze in your lonely cubicle, and may you think of Jack Sikma's majestic locks as you do so. I don't know what the connection is, but let's celebrate anyway. Oh wait, he was born in '55! There ya go.

I think it's time for all of us to make that periodic self-examination confirming that we're not negativity-emitting assholes. It's easy to become one; it takes real discipline to avoid the trap.

Here are a few questions we can ask ourselves to see if we are negativity-emitting assholes:

-Is my first instinct towards my fellow man one of derision and distrust?
-Do I regard others' attempts at creativity with an automatic cynicism and "I-could-do-better" air of superiority? 
-When I enter the room, do people instinctively get on their toes, expecting sarcasm and insults from my direction?
-When I leave a room, is it less happy than when I entered it?
-Might others describe me as a "snob" or "too cool for school"?
-Deep down, am I so unhappy with myself that I feel the need to lash out at things around me?
-Am I Billy Packer?
-Am I exponentially more adept at pointing out problems than I am at offering solutions or support for those in need?
-Am I unable to experience wild joy?
-Is there anything I could do, without compromising my own unique, embittered worldview, to bring more positive energy to my daily encounters?  Do I even want to do that?

Just mull some of that shit over, ya fuckers. I will, too.

Here is a story with a li'l positivity, if you're interested. Valsmal might be able to tell it better, because she was right in the middle of it (I was at my desk and missed the whole thing). But I have the damn website, so here goes. Today at work we had a celebrity visitor: Mr. Bill Murray. He came with four of his six sons, and he was there to observe a chef friend of his who is appearing on one of our programs. Murray's friend is the chef at the Hard Rock in Las Vegas, so you might assume that Murray met him in Vegas during some celebrity suckfest. No, it turns out that Murray and the dude worked at Little Caesar's together in Chicago about 35 years ago and they've been friends ever since. Nice. Anyway, apparently Murray was just sort of lurking around during the taping today, chatting with everyone, being his usual charming, sarcastic self. Then he said that it looked like the crew wasn't getting any food, and they must be hungry. So he went across the street to the wildly overpriced but pretty delicious Pop Burger, where he bought about 40 burgers. Then he came back upstairs and started passing them out to everybody he saw.

If you're a famous person, it's easy to leave people with a negative impression, or no impression at all. Or you can go buy 40 burgers and hand them out to everybody in the joint. And everyone will love you for it. Good for Bill Murray.

A very nice guy I work with is leaving for greener pastures, so we went out for a coupla beers to see him off. That's been S.O.P. at our office since Day One, as I assume it is at yours. You quit or get sacked, we all go to a bar and drink. It was a nice turnout tonight for this dude, and the place they chose was up my alley: $3 pints of Stella, which I gather was the happy hour price. If so, they were still celebrating happy hour when I left at 8:30, which is pretty generous. Good place. I'd go again if I didn't have to walk through the blood and stench of the meatpacking district to get there. I wonder if I'll ever have a last day, and I wonder who will show up. It would be sad if there were only like 4 of us there, after I gave the place a dozen years of minimum-effort-level 'sacking. I wonder if I get to choose the place. My first choice, the Pinckney Street Hideaway in Madison, Wisconsin, is probably too far away. I think I might go with 7B, for old times' sake.  Or maybe Big Jim Lang can just take me to Tad's for the Steak n' Wine Special, like I did for him on his last day.

A couple of notes on the wheredats and GISG's from the last couple of days. BA, you are only going to get half credit for your wheredat answer of Sheffield and Addison. I think the intersection is Sheffield and Lincoln, although maybe all three intersect there? You may be able to talk me out of this, but one of the roads there is definitely Lincoln. As for GISG #32, here's a hint: It's one word, and it might be the way you would mockingly address the dude in the picture: "Hang on, hang on, I've got the parking stub here somewhere, Mr. (blank)." We are knocking back the value of this GISG to 15 points because of this hint.

To help you while away your workin' Thursday, here is a GISG for 20 points. And for another fifteen points, tell me what beer I was drinking the first time I got really, really drunk in high school. I think it was my sophomore or junior year, and it was a party after one of the school's talent show type thingies.* All answers at noon HST please.

Thanks very much to Dan K., whose final iPonderous installment is available today.  Very nice job all the way through, and thanks again for the generous empeetreyin'.

* Not to be confused with the Apres-SAT bash, when a 16 year-old Deion cemented his legend by going into a liquor store without an ID, and walking back out with two bottles of Schnapps (one peach, one peppermint).  And also not to be confused with the first time I got drunk in junior high school, when I had a wine-drinking contest with Tony A. and vomited so fiercely that I didn't touch alcohol for another three years or so afterwards.