Skip to main content

A Holiday Struggle


This week I want to take a moment to talk about something that I have first hand experience with. There's an upcoming holiday that I really struggle with, as do a lot of people. It's a holiday that can make people feel depressed, alone, resentful, and hopeless. A holiday that comes around every February. I'm sure by now you've come to figure out that I am talking about President's Day.

President's Day is an amazingly polarizing holiday, how do you celebrate without letting George or Abe overshadow each other? Do you get wooden teeth for you dog, and a stovepipe hat for you cat? Do you wear a powdered wig, or rock out an amazing beard? You can't really have a cook out with the one you love, it's too cold.

Last year, I decided to just really throw the hammer down the hallway and throw a President's Day party. It wasn't so much a celebration of two of the great leaders of our land, so much as “Let's eat pizza, dress like dead presidents, and do bad karaoke!” It was mishmash of people who showed up, mostly friends of mine, and a few friends of friends. Overall, I knew most of the people, but it was hard to see sometimes beyond the mix of powered wigs and beards that many were sporting.

The pizza and beer went quickly, and as soon as the karaoke machine was plugged up, someone grabbed it and started to sing “Purple Rain.” I was up next, and I chose to sing that classic Buzzcocks tune “Everybody's Happy Nowadays.” Some of the room knew it, some of the room didn't, and the next person up sang “Don't Stop Believing.”

Things took an odd turn when someone who I didn't known, dressed as James K. Polk, grabbed the microphone after a brief pause in activity, and said into it “Would anyone like to hear some Gilbert Godfrey jokes?” Suddenly, we felt as if we had stumbled into a David Lynch film. A man dressed as Polk, doing a Gilbert Godfrey impression, and telling jokes that made the party screech to a halt.

Polk finished, and shortly after he seemingly disappeared. I returned to the microphone with a group of friends, and we sang The Beatles' “Oh, Darling.” After that, more pizza, more singing, and the only party game of the night “Who in the hell was James K. Polk?” We never did figure out who Polk was, or whose friend he was.

The idea of having a President's Day Party was a success, with minimal mess, and only one person leaving in shame. It's an odd holiday to wrap your head around, but it doesn't have to be as much of a struggle as you once thought of. Dress your friends up like Taft and watch them sing “Hit Me With Your Best Shot!” It's great fun! Just make sure nobody knows any Gilbert Godfrey jokes first. See you next week.  

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Convincing Yourself You're Good.

I have Imposter Syndrome. Imposter Syndrome is that feeling that what you do isn't good enough, and that someone is gonna eventually figure out how woefully unqualified you are and kick you to the curb. One of the traits of my personality that I dislike is that I am way too hard on myself. Seriously, give my mind an inch and I will somehow figure out that I am the sole person responsible for the world's troubles.

Having Imposter Syndrome is kind of like playing the game Werewolf. My friends and I play a version of the game called One Night Ultimate Werewolf, in the game each player picks a card that gives them a specific role, either a villager or a werewolf, and the villagers all have distinct roles that they play on top of that--special abilities and the like. The object of the game is two fold, if you're a werewolf, you don't wanna be caught. If you're a village, you wanna catch the werewolves. Imposter Syndrome makes you feel like you're always in the role…

Seduction My Way

With Valentine’s Day next week many are starting to make plans for what they will do with their lover. Lately I’ve been getting numerous tweets asking me “Andy, you’re a well known stud muffin, what can I do to make Valentine’s Day most memorable?” Since I have much to say on this topic, I thought I’d take time this week and share my advice for a most special February 14th. 
Now you may have read that last paragraph and thought to yourself “Andy, I have no lover, why did you write something useless for me!?” Don’t worry friend, I got you. If you need a pick up a line to score the date of your dreams, simply get up the courage to walk up the one you’ve been dreaming about, take a deep breath, and tell them the following. “Hey, do you wanna fall over a cliff in love with me? ‘Cause I’m the yodeling guy from Price is Right and you just incorrectly guessed the price of a toaster oven.” Never fails. 
Now comes the task of picking the right restaurant for the date. At this late time, finding …

Where The Blues Are

I come to you again this week with another pair of blu-rays from those master celluloid handlers at Warner Archive. First up we have 1960’s “Where The Boys Are,” a defining teen picture of the era by MGM, and the film largely responsible for kicking off the whole cycle of 1960s beach films. The other is 1955’s “Pete Kelly’s Blues” a film starring, produced, and directed by Jack Webb--TV’s Joe Friday. Part of a deal Webb had made with Warner Brothers when he was setting up the original big screen version of “Dragnet” in the ‘50s. 
“Where The Boys Are” was set for the screen before the book it was based on had been released. Producer Joe Pasternak snatched up the rights to the book by Glendon Swarthout, which was originally titled “Unholy Spring.” Pasternak, strongly feeling “Where The Boys Are” would be the better title, persuaded Swarthout to change the book’s title. Pasternak also felt he could use the film as a starring vehicle for one of the stars of MGM’s record label, Connie Franc…