JB’s Blog

Well it wasn’t a Tuesday with Morrie,
nor was it driving Ms. Daisy, rather
’twas, dinner with Davey. 

That night they sat at a table,
two young men, somewhat stable,
They ordered beers, burgers and tenders
But the thought ran through J’s head
Do they all think we’re together?

Can two men go out to eat?
Sit at a table with just two seats?
Well they talked, caught up, and ate
Soon it started to get late
They continued catching up as songs played
Till J’s ears perked
"Is that Marvin Gaye?"

Let’s get it… played on
An awkward moment, an "um"
J said, "We better move along."

So the two young men left the table
Secure in themselves and still…
somewhat stable

One of my old friends from high school (one the ABCD’ers) started a blog last year simply listing terms/sayings/phrases we all had come up with, with their corresponding definitions.  I was surprised to find how many of my dumb ones he remembered.  I was also surprised to find one with my name in it.  The JB Scale. 

I racked my brain and yet I could not recall every making up some sort of scale, at least with these friends.  So finally, I had to ask.  The definition of the scale, was a scale to measure what people think about you.  It was named after me because I was deemed neutral in high school.  This would be the 5 in the 0-10 scale. 

Then I got to thinking what that means.  While the good part is that I was not hated, it also indicated I was not well liked.  Essentially if you walked by me in high school, I caused no emotions to stir in you.  I was the invisible man according to this.

I was then surprised to find out who was put in the favorable and unfavorable ranges.  It turns out it merely was one person’s opinion who no one really liked anyway, and that it was made in the middle of the night in a hotel room on a school trip.  So much for the scientific method.   

So nearly seven years after the fact, I became aware of my scale.  Not recommended for daily use.

So today I went for my usual Friday afternoon trip to the gym.  The cardio machines I normally use were all in use.  So I ventured to the side room.  There I found a machine I used to use during my senior year of college at the crappy little gym that was in my apartment complex.  (Sidenote:  The crappy little gym at Valentine Apartments, yes I lived on Valentine Place at one point in my life, was a little room in the basement of the main apartment building.  It had one of those multi-sided pulley-weight machines that could work out your entire body…theoretically.  There were about 4 aerobic machines, a mat, two benches and some free weights up to 50lbs, and a machine to do raises/work out your abs on.  I gained 20lbs that year.)

So…yeah…today.  I’m at the gym on that machine.  I turn on the television to CNN so I can get my news from the news ticker while listening to my ipod.  A few minutes go by and I hear someone singing Eminem.  "feel so empty without me…"  I look over and it is a 50 year old woman on the stairmaster singing out scattered Eminem lyrics at the top of her lungs.  A few minutes later she is done and I can concentrate on my news and my music.  Unfortunately a guy comes into the room and gets on a machine that is three down from mine.  He is wearing large headphones.  He turns them on and I swear I can hear his music crystal clear, from three machines down, with my headphones on and my ipod playing.  If that isn’t bad enough he then starts singing at the top of his lungs. 

Look, singing, if you’re terrible, is when you’re at your own home in the shower or are in your own car.  I do not need to go the gym to hear you blurt out the Top 50 of 1950 or whatever.  And realize when you are singing with your headphones on really loud, you are singing at the top of your lungs.  We can all here you.  So Mr./Ms. singer at the gym, you’re in my hall of shame.

About this time of year comes the time when many seniors or in my case 3L’s (last year of law school) sit for photos for the yearbook and possibly for parental and/or girlfriend purchase as well.  Today was my photo session.  What does this entail?  First you show up in a suit.  Second you make sure you shave right before they snap the picture since they cannot remove "shadows."  However, I am told they can remove pimples. 

The first photo you in your suit.  First you swing your legs to the right at a 45 degree angle while keeping your top half facing forward.  Then the photographer asks you to follow his hand with your face so that you now have your head turned toward your legs.  Then you tilt your head to the left.  Next you are asked to smile.  Now, I don’t know if you can tell from this description, but it is hard to smile with your head tilted and your body turned…try it.  It feels like only half your mouth is able to pull off the smile.  The photographers says, c’mon bigger smile.  I say I’m trying.  Just when you feel you must look utterly ridiculous, like your mouth is totally contorted, he says, there ya go, great smile. 

Then you rinse and repeat to the left side and through several more poses.  These include the ever popular throw the gown on over the shirt and tie (while taking off the jacket) and holding a cap to your chest like you are Napoleon.  Finally the cap goes on.  And there you have it.  My career of sitting for school portraits has come to a close.  Good riddance.