“if men were born with wives, every man would be a genius”

my friend sonic, he told me this quote the other day. to whom this quote deserves credit, i do not know. google could not provide the answer in less than 30 seconds, and that’s where my search for the rightful owner stopped. regardless it is neither mine nor his.

the more i thought about the quote, the more beautiful it appeared to me.

immediately, the quote: “behind every great man, stands a great woman” came to mind. the quote at the top of this post initially gives off the feel that it’s an ode to women type quote. to most, that’s where it stops. yet when you look deeper into this quote more is revealed

if men were born with wives, they in turn, would not waste precious hours and dollars in the ridiculous pursuit for wife. with ample funds, and time on each man’s hands, he would be able to get to the things that “matter”.

if every man would stop spending time and money on cologne, clothes, hotornot.com, and clubs –they would be at home inventing cures for cancer, 1000-horsepower 200-mile per gallon cars, and of course trees that really did grow money.

the quote has a shiny high-gloss finish that appears to be sweet, and pleasing the female gender from a male perspective. instead it speaks truth the only way men can say truth without getting reprimanded, by masking the real meaning behind a compliment.

men seem to always have, a hobby, sport, idea, or something other than family/women that occupy their time. generally, women don’t have ‘things’. women have clothes, shoes, food, and gossip. these are all things geared towards being mothers and/or finding a husband.

i’m 50/50 on this quote. half of me loves the method with which the person sneaks his message across by depicting his message as a compliment, when it in fact, is hardly that. secondly, i agree with the message. i would have had better grades, worked harder at my job, saved more money, and pursued ventures that remain on the back burner.

what would women be if they were born with husbands? eternally happy? bored? wives!

san fran

i was just mad stoked to be in SF working at a job that had real "meetings" at this point. so i wrote san francisco in caps and double underlined it with red and black with a star to the front signifying importance and enthusiasm. 

house on a slant

all of these doodles came from the same day. perhaps different meetings, different pens, and different inspirations -but the same 24 hr span.

paso robles

said turned 60

so we all decided to drive to paso robles, dine in a cave, and wear weird shirts that only persians would understand.

red harry 'r' marc

i work with a guy named marc.

sig events oatmeal

each week we have to note our "significant events" apparently mine were morphed out of a bowl of oatmeal. 

steel elephant

i was in a meeting, and someone mentioned a person's name "steel elephant". that was his name. i joke you not. here's what my pen immediately did.

fried egg with pork over rice

lloyd taught me well

football dancing

football dancing

among my friends, i’m the only one who doesn’t fit in. well, i don’t fit in when it comes to football. my friends play fantasy football, and compete against each other for cash prizes. i sit on the sidelines and ride the fantasy pine while they talk about players, rushing yards, sacks, and stats. thing is, of all the football following friends of mine, i’m the only one who actually played football.

the game of football is one thing, the drama of football is another. who said what, about who, when, and why, seems to be half or more than half of the conversations surrounding pro sports. sports to me have turned into a drama more than an exhibition of competition. the game’s focus is not just 60 minutes of play anymore, it’s the other 167 hours of the week that get most of the attention.

that brings me to a key word here: game. this is a game. we’re looking for game, not a drama. he said, he said sh*t is for daytime t.v.. 11 guys beating out 11 other guys for bragging rights and a trophy is a game.

due to the chicago bears making the playoffs this season, i’ve found myself back in the nfl following (just a bit). since i was born in a suburb of chi-town, i’m a fan.

hence, i’ve been watching and noticing that some of the players dance when they score, some don’t. there was a huge thing years ago, back in the late 80’s - 90’s, where dancing after scoring went under the microscope.

my grandmother (the wisconsin side, not the persian side) used to hate hate hate when players celebrated after scoring. she hated when players spiked the ball. players were unprofessional for celebrating after scoring in her opinion. initially i took my grandmother’s side on this issue. these players get paid buckets of cash to play a game. for them to call unnecessary attention to themselves after scoring is plain o’l unprofessional.

i agreed with grandma… until i played football.

granted i was the kicker for my first season, i did hold a place on junior varsity football for two consecutive years. #36, me, punter, place kicker, and eventually outside linebacker on the strong side.

grandmother never played a game of football. she never felt the rush when that running back’s eyes locked on mine seconds before i layed him backside down on the grass. she never experienced the rush that hit me when i got a hold of that carrier’s football and stripped it away from him. she’s never sat at the bottom of a 10+ person dog-pile, cradling a football in the fetal position while the opposition gave indian burns, titty twisters, hocked loogies, and told me how good my mother was in bed the previous night.

football is a game. the teams are comprised of players. examining these words carefully i see those same words are found in most 5-year-old’s vocabulary. the concept of game is somewhat lost with my grandmother’s generation’s view.


i remember vividly, my very first game. i stood on the sidelines next to allen, a veteran football player in comparison. we were starting the opening drive, and on 2nd down we gained 10 yards! allen jumped up and screamed in excitement. i had never seen him so enthusiastic. “geez man, calm down allen” i said. “what?? calm down? this is a football game!?”

and that’s when it hit me.

that’s what the game is about. excitement! the rush! striving to achieve a reason to dance, spike the ball, jump into the stands, show the world: ‘damn it, i feel good!’

now soccer players have always danced, celebrated, ripped their shirts off and screamed at the top of their lungs –after scoring a much needed goal. hell, you would too if you were running constantly for two 45+ minute sessions and only 1 goal was scored all game. you almost owe the audience and your teammates a little show of enthusiasm. why not in football?

sombrero 'j'

sometimes 'j'anuary likes to wear a sombrero. and what's the point of wearing a sombrero without tassels?