Devilish Smirk – Page 19 – A writer of words that matter.

You’re Something, but You’re not Old

When someone says “I’m old,” it probably wasn’t a question. Whether or not they say it in jest, it needs to stop.

I’m 41. I’m a fairly social guy. My friends range in age from their 20’s through 60’s. Randomly, they’ve said it.

I don’t want to hear it anymore. You’re not old!

Life expectancy reached 50 about 115 years ago. Today, it’s about 80, but people can live into and past their 90’s.

If you think you’re old long enough, you’ll begin to believe it. You’ll grow old, thinking you’re old, while you’re not old. Depressing, right?

We need to think better of ourselves a little bit longer. What do people really mean when saying “I’m old”?

“Tired” – After 18, you’re an adult for the rest of your life. It’s called growing up. Responsibilities are exhausting, but they don’t make you old.

Establishing credibility in what you do takes time and energy. Sacrifices will be made. Everything you do in life becomes a matter of priority. You’re not old, you’re tired.

“Lazy” – Excuses! You just don’t want to do anything! You want to sit on the couch while your body fuses to it. Have you seen What’s Eating Gilbert Grape? I don’t want to spoil it, but an extremely large character dies. Her house becomes her crematory. There was no getting her out. It’s actually a really sad story and Leonardo DiCaprio was amazing in it.

Also, don’t blame age for your lack of knowledge. Technology, for example, makes people feel left behind. Nobody is excused from the school of life. Things change. Your brain still works. Learn. My brother is 19 and his favorite hobby is knitting. I’m serious! He’s probably better at being old than you. You’re not old, you’re lazy.

“Vain” – Recently, I had a conversation with a friend in her early 30’s. She said she was old four times. I assured her she wasn’t, and that’s why people say it. People don’t mean it, they just want you to tell them differently. Stop it. You’re not old, you’re vain.

“Unhealthy” – You cannot eat like you did through puberty. You need to find a calorie-in/calorie-out balance. The consequences of consuming desserts frequently when you’re 24 aren’t due to age. You’re not old, you’re unhealthy.

We’re programmed to joke about age between friends. It’s predictable humor, appropriate for birthdays, and only fake-laugh funny. Thank the birthday card industry. Do they even make age joke cards for truly old people? Like, “Whoa bitch! I can’t even with those tits! You’re 90, you should be dead! Here’s a shovel and graveyard plot!” I think that was on a card given to me when I turned 30.

Fact is, we can all learn from each other. There’s nothing wrong with growing up or getting older. It’s reality! Embrace it. It happens to everybody if they’re lucky. Inspire people younger than you. So what if you have a new appreciation for the value of your time. Kick back on that couch you can now afford along with on demand entertainment. Just remember to get out once in a while.

Convention Intervention

In 2012, direct spend on conventions in the U.S. was $280 billion. A presence at these events is a requirement for companies trying to make it in their industry. Attendees travel, in droves, to host cities that can can accommodate the influx of visitors.

Technology and software companies do not mess around with conventions. They are a game of one-upmanship between competitors.

Hosts spend small fortunes to bask in the spotlight to unveil new products, make headlines, announce partnerships, and bestow awards that are the corporate equivalent of high school yearbook superlatives followed by an often awkward photo op.

Exhibitors bombard attendees with information and logo’d trinkets as they follow their planned agendas. Days often extend into hospitality suites, parties, and VIP events where sellers and buyers network over cocktails.

Your time is limited. If you’re not careful, you will become occupied with time-wasting conversations. There are certain attendees you want to avoid. Here are a few examples:

“The Trick-or-Treater” – They walk the exhibit hall looking for handouts. They might ask what you do, but they don’t care. Some ask for the SWAG directly. They’ve either stalked your booth or someone told them what you have. A quality tote is a great handout. Shove everything they have in it and let them walk away.

“The Faux Prospect” – They have been with their company a while and they are in the early stages of a big project. The attendee is there to gather information, but potential work is a long way down the road. It doesn’t hurt to foster a relationship with these attendees, but do not expect much.

Earpiece — “This thing is a phone. I’m on it.”

“Disengaged Conversationalist” – They don’t make eye contact. Conversations with them are rushed and they’ve already decided you can’t do anything for them. They talk fast and loud. They will interrupt you to take a call.

“The Boondoggle” – These aren’t hard to avoid because they are rarely at the convention hall floor. They show up to so long as they can prove they were there. They might have convinced their employer to send them on an expense-paid trip to a vacation destination that’s not the office.

“Last Call Holdouts” – The pack animals attendees end the night by closing the hotel bar. They will pull anyone they recognize to the bar for “one more drink.” They usually miss a portion of the next morning because they are “taking a call” in their room. If you decide to join them, they will use a lot of these terms. Learn the language.

“The Sloppy Drunk” – The slippery slope between networking and embarrassment gets slipperier by the drink. If you see a wasted executive in a dancing sandwich between his employees while someone shouts “free licenses!” and snaps pics while others record video, reconsider your relationship. It’s not acceptable for an executive to be escorted off premises, waving his hands in the air like he just don’t care while babbling “she’s protecting the brand” repeatedly. It happens.

“Convention Crashers” – You may encounter someone whose name doesn’t match their badge. Assume that Jennifer dropped her badge and the guy wearing it doesn’t belong there.

Optimize your trip by avoiding any of the above attendees. You owe it to yourself and your company to make the most of it.

No Way, Jose!

Jose Cuervo, you were a friend of mine.

I have a bone to pick with Jose Cuervo but, before that, I have a few things to say about tequila.

When I think of tequila, I think of shots. Margaritas are a close second. I certainly don’t think of any other tequila drink. The last time I ordered a tequila sunrise, I was underage in a bar. At that point, ‘vodka soda with a lemon’ wasn’t rolling off my tongue.

But, I hate shots. Anytime I’ve taken a shot and said it was good, I was lying. Yet, shots can happen. Whether I’m at a bar, party, or have friends over, if someone suggests shots, I’m on board. I won’t instigate them, but I rarely say no.

If shots happen, tequila is my default. With salt and lime or straight up, I don’t care. At that point, I’m reluctantly agreeable, not saying no, and I just want it over. The quicker the better. So long as it’s not rail or a liqueur, I’m not unhappy.

Tequila has grown on me. With training wheels, they are merely strong mini-margaritas.

However, tequila isn’t always a good idea. Tequila means it’s late. Tequila means I might forget things. Tequila is sobriety’s bouncer and accepts no bribes. Tequila hurts. Tequila reminds me that it’s important to have Excedrin and Gatorade at home.

There’s one thing I don’t think about: ruining it.

What doesn’t cross my mind thinking about tequila is cinnamon. Cinnamon tequila is real. It shouldn’t be a thing. But, it is and it’s a travesty.

I’m not a fan of cinnamon flavor to begin with. I can barely chew cinnamon gum. Mouthwash? Forget it. Mints? Nope. Those dumb chewy bears? I’ll pass. Alcohol? Yuck. Tequila? NO!

I remember thinking I liked Goldschlager for two minutes in college, but that’s because it was the express lane to inebriation.

At some point since, Fireball happened. Suddenly, every bro with a bright idea bought rounds of this stuff at every bar in every town. Then, Pitbull dropped a song about it. It was official. Fireball became the white boy’s Pumpkin Spice Latte.

On the heels of Fireball’s success, other whiskeys followed suit. Eventually, a lot of whiskeys offered a ‘fire’ option. At least whiskey made sense. I’m still no fan, but I understand what they’re doing.

Then, Jose Cuervo had an identity crisis. Jose Cuervo produced Cinge – a cringe-worthy cinnamon play in the tequila space.

This stuff is awful! This is tequila abuse. I’m boycotting Jose Cuervo for this very reason.

How did I get introduced to Cinge? A friend stopped by. Like any good guest, he brought alcohol. He called it tequila. He poured shots. I went to cut a lime and he stopped me. “You don’t need lime, trust me,” he said.

I told him I wanted training wheels.

Then, he told me it was cinnamon tequila. Huh? Is there such a thing? Ok, I guess I’ll try it. And I did. A few times.

Something about it is just wrong. Technically, it’s tequila – a tainted, ruined, tryna-be-something-it’s-not version of tequila. Cinge is just another example of how, sometimes, we can’t leave well enough alone.

The County Worker on the Soapbox and What I Thank God For

Just when I thought her 15 minutes were up, BAM! There she was again, occupying headlines like a child crying for attention.

Who uses a once-in-a-lifetime meeting with the pope to get attention and airtime? An opportunist, that’s who.

I don’t know what kind of soap she believes cleansed her soul and is trying to sell, but the box is empty and upside down. Someone told her she smells good and now she’s standing on it. It won’t be long before that poor box busts into bits under the weight of all of God’s work she thinks she needs to do.

Lady, please step down. God can do His own work.

I won’t type her name. Her name doesn’t matter. She doesn’t matter to me.

She’s a figurehead, by default, holding a megaphone. The minute she stepped out of prison, her puppeteers gave her a hug and attached the harness. They are pulling her strings and keeping her in the headlines while trying to capitalize on the business of hate and business is good.

All that nonsense about her meeting the pope was thrown out there this week without one good intention. It was selfish, vindictive, and divisive. Her team are master manipulators and they love hate. Hating her only fuels the fire, extending her reach, and keeps them paid. She’s so busy basking in the spotlight that she doesn’t feel their fangs in her neck.

I refuse to click on headlines with her name anymore. I won’t engage with those stories. I won’t be part of encouraging them. I have no interest in either the lost battle, or the minority she represents. If nobody clicked, her voice would be gone.

I don’t hate her, but I think she is dangerous. She twists and bends her religion, like Play-Doh, into a mold where she’s above the law, right, and a victim, all while carrying a personal list of sins a mile long. Sound familiar? That’s because she’s not the first and she won’t be the last.

She’s not worth my time. She’s not worth yours either. She is in my rearview mirror where she looks good right next to other garbage I need to forget about.

She and Huckabee can go be righteous together and discuss their vengeful God ad nauseam. That is, until they stop talking to one another once neither of them have anything left to gain from each other. She has already met the pope and Mike won’t be inviting anyone to the White House for dinner, so that love affair could already be over.

Anyway, enough about her. She can go on living by or breaking the law in her own world. Kentucky can deal with her and I don’t need the play-by-play.

As for the pope? I don’t know. It’s like when I lived in Wisconsin and I rooted for the Green Bay Packers. I did that because that’s what you do when you live in Wisconsin. When they won, life was good. People were happy. However, when they lost, especially a playoff or Super Bowl game, the level of upset in their true fans was something I just didn’t feel. It was a reminder that I was never fully vested in the sport to begin with and I was glad.

For the record, I am not anti-religion. This isn’t about religion, it’s about common decency. However, the county worker’s lawyer dragged the pope into the discussion so I wanted to tell you a little bit about the Christians that I know and what I thank God for in my life.

Catholicism was a presence in my upbringing and is a big part in the lives of many of my immediate and extended family members and friends.

I thank God that I have a diverse sample of Christians in my life hailing from different denominations as well as non-denominational evangelical Christians. The Christians I know are nothing like the county worker. They are kind and loving and I’m fortunate to have them in my life. Granted, we might not see eye-to-eye on certain issues, but they don’t treat me like a lesser human. I’m pretty sure that’s quite the opposite of what Jesus taught and a true Christian knows this.

They hold strong to their convictions, but they don’t assert their views or beliefs on others. They are open to discussions and I’ve had my share. What I appreciate most about the Christians I know is that they live their life by their faith.

I thank God that my family supports me in who I love which I didn’t think was possible 25 years ago. It wouldn’t be fair to say it was always easy, but the process was a journey and an incredible learning experience, albeit work. I currently benefit from closer family bonds with open lines of communication.

I was able to witness my grandparents on my father’s side evolve their views after learning I wouldn’t be making them great grandparents. Despite any thoughts they had prior, they accepted me for who I am.

Our visits during my trips ‘back home’ were something special and my partner was always welcome. They began addressing Christmas cards to both me and my partner. I’m so thankful for this simple act, especially now that they both have passed. These were the two people I thought would be most disappointed in me, but that was not the case.

I thank God that, in some small way, I have been able to impact opinions and/or behaviors within the microcosm I reside. I’ve been pleasantly surprised at the individual level.

On a greater scale, we aren’t where I thought we would be when I left home for college in 1992. I live in a state where people can be denied work or be terminated based on sexual orientation. When company policies put more parameters on the company’s behavior than state laws, it’s time to take a step forward. We are, as Miranda from The Devil Wears Prada would say, moving at a glacial pace.

To pretend that the county worker was within her right to not sign those documents is absolutely ridiculous. She found God and scrubbed her sins and is claiming to protect her rights as she infringes on the rights of others. It’s a real shame that the Christians who make headlines have as much impact causing a divide as they do. However, there’s money to be made in controversy. As long as we can be pitted against one another, we will continue to be.