I Think I Have Something in My Eye

I consider myself to be a pretty manly guy. I drink my whiskey straight, I enjoy the occasional cigar with my friends, and one of my all time favorite movies is Rudy. Now, having said all of this I’ll admit, even I sometimes have my vulnerable moments.

Now, the story which I’m about to get into, it actually took place several months ago. I know I could have posted it back then, but I’ll level with you – I needed this time to come to terms with what happened.

It must have been November or December of last year, I just remember it was cold out; Wifey and I were sitting on our couch one weekend afternoon not knowing what to do with ourselves. For those of you who have spent a considerable amount of time in the Northeast, you can appreciate that a winter in Boston is no time for leisurely outdoor activities. From October through March, we Boston residents just hunker down in our sweatpants, and make sure that we’re stocked up on blankets, DVD’s, and do our best to weather the storm.

Wifey and I finally figure out that since there’s no way either of us are getting out of our sweats, I guess the only thing to take up some time on this Saturday would be to rent a movie. We decide to rent “Marley & Me”.

“Marley & Me”, for those of you who don’t know, looks like it’s going to be one of those lame romantic comedies… you put Jennifer Aniston and Owen Wilson together, and then you throw in a Labrador retriever who pulls all kinds of shenanigans, and bing bang boom – you got yourself movie magic. For anyone who hasn’t seen the movie yet, you may want to stop reading here, although it doesn’t really take a rocket scientist to figure out how the movie ends. The dog ends up dying.

Now, I’m certainly no rocket scientist (although I do love rockets), and even I, a simpleton, knew going into this movie that the dog was going to die at the end. You would think that I’d be prepared for it. Nope.

I was WEEPING, and I don’t mean that I shed a tear when Owen Wilson said goodbye to his dog, I mean I was full on sobbing like a child. There were tears streaming down my face, I had snot running down my nose, I even had those barely audible soft sobs going on. It was bad. I looked like Brett Favre during one his retirement speeches, but worse! I was crying so hard that even Wifey (who was also crying) was taken aback.






Yeah, that’s right. I cried, and I cried good and hard. I’m not ashamed to say it. I’d like to see any grown man get through that movie without shedding a tear. I’ll even go so far as to say that if you can do it, I’ll be the first to buy you a beer. And then I’ll never speak to you again, cause you have to be one cruel, dog-hating son-of-a-bitch not to shed a tear during that movie.


So, after that ‘episode’ finally ended, I was left red-eyed and thinking to myself – did I really just cry that hard at a movie? But you know what? I’m starting to think that I’m OK with it. Look, just cause I cried at a movie, doesn’t mean that I’m any less of a man. I still enjoy football just as much, and still believe that shoulder bags should be reserved solely for women and Europeans – I just have a soft spot for dogs.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again… Get this man a puppy!


- Jack Asher

Some days, these posts just write themselves...

I really love the writing process. I enjoy the challenge of coming up with interesting ideas to write about, and most of all, I really love writing it all down and hearing people tell me that they actually find my posts to be funny.

However, not every post needs to go through this creative process. In fact, this story didn’t take any creativity at all on my part – cause it all happened just this afternoon.


Most of you don’t know this, but I have a new boss. He started about three weeks ago, he's our new Director of Inside Sales. So far, no one on the team really likes him. Come to think of it, I think I’m the only one that can stand the guy.

I think he’s just too “corporate” for everyone else. I work at a fairly small company, and up to this point, no one on the team really knew what it’s like to be micro managed, and with this new guy on board, it’s a big change for them.

Anyways…

Today, as I was placing calls to prospective clients, and leaving voice messages for some, this new boss comes up to me and asks if I have a second to talk. I say sure. The following conversation ensued:


Boss: You know, Jack, I’ve been listening to the messages you’ve been leaving for your prospects, and I think I have something that might help you out a bit.

Jack: Sure, anything to help.

Boss: Well, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed this or not during your phone conversations, but your last name is kinda hard to pronounce.

Jack: Haha (laughs uncomfortably), yeah, it’s a mouthful.

Boss: Well, here’s a suggestion, and you certainly don’t have to do this, I just think it might help… What you could do is change your last name to something easier for people to understand. I mean, you don’t necessarily have to change it outside of work, but maybe you could just change it for work purposes alone.

Jack: Ummmm, but my email address has my last name in it.

Boss: Oh, that’s not a problem… I can talk to the tech guys and have them replace your last name with an easier last name.

Jack: Yeah, Umm, I’ll think about it.



Just so you, my readers, fully understand... This guy was absolutely, 217% not joking. He was recommending that I use a fake last name so that when I leave messages for prospects, they won’t have to replay their messages to understand my last name.

Now, luckily for this guy… I totally see the humor in this situation. My only regret is that all I could think to come up with was “Yeah, Ummm, I’ll think about it”. Sometimes in life, you really need a do over. If I had one, here are a few lines that would have come in handy...


“You know – I’ve always liked the last name Mehoff”

“Good thing I’m not doing face-to-face sales – I can’t afford a nose job”

“Sounds great! By the way, can you point me to the HR department?”


And now, here's another bit of wisdom from yet another brilliant leader:




- Jack Asher

Return to Glory

Well, I’m back.



I would apologize for my lack of posts lately, but let’s be honest – I had more important shit to take care of. In fact, I shouldn’t be apologizing. In these past two weeks, which I’ll just consider a sabbatical, so much has taken place which has served as a breeding ground for blogging ideas. Those of you who have been reading my blog for a while are probably thinking – great, maybe he’ll start writing one blog per day again. Let me assure you, this is not the case. Also, stop being so damn greedy.

So, what’s my first blog going to be about? Perhaps I’ll write about my wedding, which I can promise you, was turned up to 11. Maybe I’ll write about the honeymoon (I’d keep it PG-13 of course). Who knows, maybe I’ll write a new Petey Pancakes segment.

Nope, today’s blog, ladies and gentlemen, is entitled:

Toddlers: Adorable Youth, or Dangerous Drunks?


Hear me out… During my wedding, there was a lot of dancing going on. Wifey and I were dancing, our friends were dancing, even our parents friends were dancing. But out of all this, you know what caught my eye? It was a 3 year old “break dancing” in the middle of the dance floor. It was reminiscent of something I’d do after shotgunning a half bottle of Rubinoff my freshman year of college. And like THAT – it hit me. This kids has to be hammered drunk.

So, I thought about it for a while, and you know what? I’m pretty sure that kids are always drunk!


Exhibit A – Hugging

Have you ever seen one 3 year old hugging another 3 year old? Sure, it’s kinda cute and all because they’re kids. But if an adult were to hug another adult in the same manner, there would be no doubt in anyone’s mind that the person in question was three sheets to the wind.



Exhibit B – “Accidents”

I’ll admit it. It happened, once. It was in college, after a toga party. I peed. But in all fairness, I know plenty of other respectable people who have had “accidents” after periods of drinking a bit too much.

But kids? They don’t give a damn. They’ll pee themselves at 3 in the afternoon, and they’re not the slightest bit embarrassed about it. It takes some serious drunkness to soil yourself and not even blink an eye about it.








Exhibit C – Dancing

I’ve already gone through this, but just to drive in my point. I know that you’ve seen a drunk person dance, because I’ve posted a video of a drunk man dancing. Take a close look at that video again, and tell me that you can’t imagine a toddler breaking out those same exact dance moves.


I rest my case.



Jack Asher