Pats-Colts: The Only Way We Will Be Satisfied is if…

Welp, “the game” is finally here.  Sunday night, Tom ‘FUC’king (Fuck You Colts) Brady and the Patriots travel to Indianapolis to exact revenge against the weasels that were the root cause of the greatest, most shameful sham in sports history, “DeflateGate”.

Unless you live is Crazistan, you know exactly what I am referring to.  Colts accuse Brady of deflating footballs to illegal air pressure level resulting in his enhanced performance during the AFC Championship game last January.  Total and utter horseshit (or Colt-shit, I suppose).  That’s all I can say because it causes a visceral reaction in me due to its stupidity and my blood pressure is already a health concern.

Anyway, we all know the story.  But now, the time has come. After all the noise from the media, NFL Owners, soon-to-be-unemployed Commissioner Roger Goodell, and Indianapolis sports hack writer, Gregg Doyel, its simply time to play football.  Early predictions are not pretty for Indy.  Colts poster boy Andrew Luck is not healthy and, even though he plans to start the game at QB, he is not 100% which only enhances the case for the Patriots winning….and winning HUGE.

Enough of my shitty sports babble.  I started to ponder what could possibly meet Patriots’ fans expectations?  I don’t think a Pats runaway victory will satisfy us.  Not at all.  I think Patriot Nation is looking for something biblical.  Something epic.  Something impossible to happen.  And why not?  Let’s be candid, TFB and the boys are going to destroy this substandard team, but let’s use our imagination for a second.

What could happen Sunday night that would truly make us believe that justice has been served?

I polled ‘The Crew’ and here is our compilation….

(DISCLAIMER: We do not actually wish any bodily harm on anyone.  Colts players, staff ownership or otherwise.  This is supposed to be funny.  I am explaining this in case any of you slow-witted Shit kicking mid-westerners happen to read this column)

  • Andrew Luck spontaneously combusts and somehow Peyton Manning comes in as the backup (because of what Hasselback did – see below).  First play, his arm falls off as he throws interception to Tom Brady, who is now amazingly playing defense because he is bored.  Brady then walks by the now one-armed Manning and sings over his body, ‘Chicken Parm, you taste so good!”

  • Julian Edelman plays quarterback for the entire 4th quarter because Pats are up by 63.
  • Upon a landslide win, the collective force of all the Colts disappointment seeping out of the roof of Lucas Oil Satdium causes their fleet of AFC Runner Up banners to break from the rafters, falling to field and suffocates Irsay, Grigson and Pagano….because no one could hear their cries for help due to the fake crowd noise.
  • Somehow Bill Belicheck convinces Adam Vinitieri to come back to New England during the game and he kicks a meaningless last minute field goal to seal a Patriots victory…86-6.  ITS GOOD!!!

  • Colts Owner Jim Irsay and Patriots Owner Bob Kraft have a full on WWE wrestling match in a cage above the field during halftime.  Kraft, wearing his usual white-collar-blue shirt duds, wins with a Stone Cold (Steve Austin) Stunner, pounds 2 Budweisers that Gronk has thrown him and throw cans on Irsay’s unconscious body.
  • Chuck Pagano cries.  Again.
  • (Boston native) Colts’ Backup QB Matt Hasselback shows up dressed in Patriots uniform.  Takes a dump on the 50 yard line.
  • Upon scoring yet another goal line quarterback sneak touchdown, Brady heads for the goal post, pulls out a prescription pill bottle, whacks back the whole bottle and points up to Owner’s box. (by the way, the bottle was simply filled with Awesomeness.)

  • Following victory, Kraft BUYS the Colts and immediately moves the team back to Baltimore….Sunday night….via train.
  • During Post-Game Press Conference, the usually mute Bill Belicheck does a full on gangsta rap whereby be announces he had sex with Colts fat shit GM Ryan Grigson’s wife.  It would rhyme of course.

OK, maybe we have high hopes, but hey, we will need something to think about once we are up 50 at the half.

To paraphrase Alec Baldwin in Glengarry Glenross, “I’d wish you Luck, Baltimore, but you wouldn’t’ know what to do with it.”

Indianapolis Colts: “What’s your name?”

New England Patriots: “Fuck you.  THAT’S my name.”

TOUCHDOWN! Proud of these boys!

Noah: Matt you did great!

Matt: Of course I did!

Well, my nephews are official celebrities!  After an awe-inspiring display of sportsmanship and kindness by the Westford, MA an Dracut, MA Pop Warner programs my nephew, Matthew was given the incredible opportunity to score the first touchdown of the 2015 season this past Sunday.  Matthew is bound to a wheelchair due to his diagnosis of Spinal Muscular Atrophy (SMA).  He was not expected to live beyond the age of 2.  Well, Matthew, now 6, is fighting the good fight everyday as we hopefully get closer to a cure that would allow him a longer, healthier life.

I decided to video this incredible event and with the reach of social media, it spread like wild fire.

You will see Matthew’s brother Noah (#15, who is on the team) hand the football off too him and the rest was history!

As of today, close to 300,000 views and nearly every local (and a few national) media outlets  picked up this story.

In a time when all we hear of is kids bullying eachother and outrageous acts of violence and hatred, this should make everyone proud that goodness is still around us.

I gathered all the growing news coverage in this one spot for your viewing pleasure.  Prepare for the goosebumps and the dusty eyes….

Without further ado…

Original Video in Full

WHDH – Boston, Channel 7

http://www.whdh.com/story/30021106/wheelchair-bound-football-player-scores-touchdown-for-team

WCVB – Boston, Channel 5

http://www.wcvb.com/news/kids-display-of-sportsmanship-goes-viral/35277950?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=twitter&utm_campaign=wcvb

ESPN

http://espn.go.com/espn/now?nowId=1-13662035

Fox Sports

http://www.foxsports.com/buzzer/video?vid=525478979519

Fox 25 – Boston

http://www.myfoxboston.com/clip/11843678/westford-pop-warner-helps-matthew-davidopoulos-score-a-touchdown

Bleacher Report

http://www.hlntv.com/video/2015/09/15/ma-boy-wheelchair-scores-touchdown

WSFB – Connecticut

http://www.wfsb.com/story/30031270/ma-6-year-old-boy-in-wheelchair-scores-touchdown

Unacceptable Be-shave-ior: I Had an Affair

I had an affair this summer.

It was a cheap, foolish tawdry affair that meant nothing to me.

I betray a more than 20 year relationship for a pointless fling and I can only hope to repair the damage it has caused.

This is my confession.

I joined the Dollar Shave Club  in July betraying my longtime companion, Gillette, and I regret it every day.

(No, this is not me, but does kinda look.  Damn, that Google machine can find anything)

After months of being teased and flirted with, I finally succumbed to the temptation that DSC continually threw in my face.  The sexy marketing.  The creative advertising.  The fun packaging.  The social media onslaught.  And, of course, the too-good-to-be-true price.  It was intoxicating.

No longer would I feel the sting of expensive shaving products being held over me by the blade behemoth, Gillette.  No longer would I lie awake at night and wonder if there was something better out there for me?  I couldn’t take it anymore.  And just like that…I conceded to my emotions.  A few drinks, a few clicks later, I was a Dollar Shave Club member.

At first it felt refreshing, new, exhilarating.  When would my first shipment arrive?  Would they include some of that sensuous shave butter I had viewed in the promos?  Would this experience live up to all of my expectations?

And then it happened.

My first packaged arrived.  I remember it was a Saturday.  My family was all around so I decided to open it in secret.  My wife had just bought me a fresh package of my “old faithful” brand and I can’t imagine the sadness she would have felt if I chose to tell her about this new partner.

I closed myself off to the world and did it for the first time.  I shaved with this stranger of a blade.

Initially, it felt good, different.  A sensation I had never experienced before.  My heart was racing….partially from excitement…partially from guilt and fear of being caught.  But I did it anyway….and continued to do it several more times.

Quickly I discovered this error in judgment was just not worth it.  This relationship had no future.  This product was inferior and quickly I simply felt cheap and abused (no, literally ‘abused’, these blades suck). This reckless experiment proved futile.

I could not even look myself in the mirror any longer but I just had to (again, literally, I had to look or my sideburns would have been uneven, I would have missed that weird neck patch, etc.).  I have cheated that man in the glass.

With a clear and full heart, I decided I needed to end this; and end it right away.  I immediately dispensed of the evidence in hand and went straight to the source.  I knew the best way to cut off something like this is to just do it quick and without emotion.  Within a few minutes and some confusing tears, it was over.  My membership was cancelled and I could try to rebuild my life with my faithful companion.

But I needed to bare my soul and tell my dear Gillette Fusion what I had done.  So, I wrote this letter in hopes that he (or is it a she?  Hmm…never thought about that?) would take me back….

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My Dearest G-F,

I am writing to apologize.  I am writing to say I am sorry.  I am writing to confess.  I am writing because I don’t think I can take you out of the package without completely falling apart.  I made a mistake.  A big one.  After nearly a 25 year partnership, I have strayed.  Over the past several weeks I have been carrying on with another razor.  I guess I just got bored and bought in to the old ‘blade is always sharper on the other side’ mentality.  I was completely wrong.  It only took a few – meaningless, I promise you – shaves and I knew I had made a terrible choice.

I can’t go back in time and change things, but only offer you this heartfelt apology and ask for your forgiveness.  The pain I feel cuts like a knife (or rather a shoddily-built cheapo shaving kit) and I want it to end.  I miss your silky smooth touch.  I miss your dependability.  I miss you.

What was I thinking that I could actually do better?  I mean, you have an NFL stadium named after you.  (A now exonerated!) Tom Brady plays under your watch!  What a fool I have been!

All I can say is I am truly sorry and I hope we can make amends?

Sincerely,

Frank’s face

P.S.  Don’t forget about No Shave November when we part company for the month.  I don’t want to send mix signals again. XOXO

The Lifecycle of ‘Back to School’

(Yes, another repost from back in 2013 but my blog team sucks and, frankly, so do I.  Either way, its that time of year so here ya go, suckers.  Dedicated to all my teacher folk -{pouring out to my homies})

back to school

No matter your color, creed, political affiliation or ethnicity when you hear the phrase “back to school” it elicits an emotion.  From the time we can comprehend the concept until we are in our golden years those three words mean something to just about everyone; especially students, teachers and parents.  But even for those beyond the educational starting-line that is “back to school”, the expression conjures up some feeling be it past, present or future.  Every one of us has had to manage the passage of returning to school for some portion of our lives and later, many need to manage this annual happening with our offspring.

With the beginnings of another school year upon us again I began to think about the feelings that are mustered up when we hear those three little words  And so, here is my review of the emotional roller coaster we each ride over the course of our lifetime when we hear that timeless expression.

Age 7: Wonder & Excitement

First grade baby!  Are you kidding me?  What on earth is better than 1st grade?  You have already survived the politics and mind games that you surely confronted in kindergarten.  Now it’s time to party.  No more naps.  No more half days. You have your own little friend posse and you are ready to take it out for a spin.  First grade may be the last grade you enter with no real expectations or demands put upon you.  Show up, shut up and smile…you’ll get straight ‘As’.  Fact.

Age 11: Confusion & Uncertainty

Well, you have now dominated elementary school.  You have been to the top of the mountain.  King or Queen of that K-5 hill and now it’s time for the next chapter.  But, not so fast my friend.  It’s not that simple.  Not only are you entering into those years with perhaps the largest age bracket of punks, sneaks and (future) criminals, you are in an all-out war with your hormones.  For the fellas, they are noticing they are growing hair on more than their heads.  What is this?  Not to mention your voice sounds like you are the next of kin of Michael J. Fox and Peter Brady.  Oh and let’s not forget about your, ah hem, newfound acquaintance with your…never mind.  As for the young ladies, you are meeting two new close “friends” and not sure how you should manage their inauguration.  That’s all I really know about girls (back then and now).  As for the academics?  Spanish?  Algebra?  More than ONE teacher to deal with?  How do I get out of this one?  Junior High sucks…on most levels.

class

Age 14: Fear & Loathing

Congratulations!  You have managed the daily minefield that was Junior High School but now it’s time to take off the training wheels.  It’s a brave new world. While you almost have your newfound adult form in check, you are now the littlest of tadpoles in the big pond.  For the young men, you are getting pounded by the upper classmen; on the field, in the gym, in the hallways, in the parking lot.  NO escape.  Your only saving grace is there are REAL women here for you to gawk at!  Yeowza!  No more wearing sweatpants to school.  I’ll leave it at that.  And for you poor freshmen girls…that is how you are viewed by your elders; ‘girls’.  Prepare yourself to be mocked ad nauseum by every single older female you come across.  They will judge your clothes, your hair, your shoes, your friends…everything.  Even if you are a squeaky clean all-American girl, you will be mocked and probably be rumored to have made out with the janitor, Carl, before Columbus Day.  For you early developing 9th grade ladies, I always hated you.  Why?  Because you were not wasting your time with a silly co-ed freshmen boy like me when the senior captain of the basketball team named ‘Scooter’ has just asked you to the prom during orientation.

Age 18: Hip Hip HOORAY!!!

You made it!  Graduated high school.  You can vote.  In some places you can drink!  You have big dreams and ambitions.  The world is your oyster.  Oh, here is the really good part for the lucky ones; COLLEGE baby!  On your own.  No more parents and curfews.  New friends to meet.  Ridiculous theme parties. Fraternities. Tailgates.  Awesomeness aplenty.  Going ‘back to school’ for the 18 year old is the apex of life…so far.  Breath in that higher educational air, start an ultimate Frisbee game, and chug that beer!

Age 21: Depressed & Scared

Where the hell did college go?  What do you mean it’s over?  Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor?  What do you mean I am not going ‘back to school’?  I need to pay my own bills?  What in God’s name is going on?  Even for you brainy slicksters that continue on to law, med or grad school, the joke is on you.  The school work is harder, the party has ended and, likely, so has your parents’ generosity.  For the rest of you, grab a helmet and welcome to the real world.  It stinks.

Age 30: Jealousy and Bitterness

You are likely at some mid-level job you hate.  You may have gotten married.  You may even have a kid or 2 of your own.  Life has become just too real to fathom.  When you see all those ads for ‘back to school’, you muster up intense feelings of envy and sadness.  You can finally appreciate just how awesome school really was compared to the ‘real world’.  You contemplate if there is any possible human way to turn back the clock?  There isn’t.  Put your head down…you are in for a long haul.

Age 40:  Hopefulness and Joy

By 40, you probably have a few kiddos of your own running around the school hallways.  You have channeled your previous anger and jealousy for the college years into positive feelings of hope and excitement for your children.  For many of us, ‘back to school’ is once again awesome…but for totally different reasons.  Those summer-time-dependents of yours are, once again, someone else’s problem for six hours a day for the next 10 months.  Break out the bubbly!

Age 50:  Oh Crap

By 50, you have two overpowering emotions that you have no idea how you will control and manage when ‘back to school’ is mentioned.  Number 1, my ‘baby’ is leaving for college and 2, how on God’s green earth am I going to pay for it? In a related story, you are middle aged and gross.  BOO!

Age 60: Oh well

The kids are grown up, moved on and no longer your problem; financial or otherwise.  ‘Back to school’?  Who cares?  We are headed for Boca come October anyway.

Age 80: Who’s going back to school?

No really?  I can’t hear very well.

In the immortal words of Billy Madison

“Oh, Back to school, back to school

To prove to Dad I’m not a fool

I’ve got my lunch packed up, my boots tighed tight

I hope I don’t get in a fight

Oh, Back to school, back to school…”

Every 90s suburban white boys’ dream has arrived: Straight Outta Compton

Can I Be Frank?: Guilty Pleasures: Gangsta Rap

If you were a teenage boy in the late 80s and early 90s, you knew one thing better than your name; Gangsta rap!

While there were many ‘followers’ at the time, the true pioneers of this brand of angry hip hop was NWA; which of course stood for ‘N&$%^@ With Attitude’.

And in less than 3 weeks, the movie based on their story, Straight Outta Compton, comes out.

Anyway, a few years back I waxed poetic (not killing cops and raping women gangsta poetic but) about my affinity for this music.  Timely repost.

I can’t wait.  I only hope it lives up to the Chris Rock parody CB4 made 20 years ago…

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Can I Be Frank?: Guilty Pleasures: Gangsta Rap

(Originally Posted December 2012)

Allow me to introduce you to a few of my friends. Say hello to Dr. Dre, Ice Cube, MC Ren, Eazy E, Chuck D. Oh, and don’t let me forget all of the Ghetto Boys. OK, these guys are not my friends.

They represent some primary figures in the music genre known as ‘gangsta rap’. Most of these distinguished gentlemen made their way to fame in the late 80s and early 90s; the height of the gangsta rap craze. Those were some formative years for me as well; essentially my high school years. During this time these cursing crooners made a great impact on my life which resulted in a never ending affinity for their expletive-laced anti-love songs.

I would contend I am not alone.

I can at least speak for my circle of friends – which, by the way, primarily consists of chalky white men. We were all hooked on this violence-creating, women objecting, gun-promoting, drug-use-endorsing and downright filthy phenomenon. We bought the “records”. We watched the videos. And, worst of all, sang the songs. Start laughing ‘cause I am. There is nothing more pathetic or comical than a car full of pubescent, dorky, suburban white boys singing every word to ‘Straight Outta Compton’ (NOTE: F-Word used 21 times in this song alone!) as they cruise to the mall in their Mom’s Buick station wagon.

Oh we were just so dangerous.

If you have never had the listening pleasure of hearing some old school gangsta rap, let me give you a quick glimpse how it came to be. During that era, hip hop and standard rap music was just not good enough. In essence, a group of inner city California kids decided to take this music to a new level. The lyrics raved about the idea of killing police officers, defiling women, getting lost in drugs and basically unleashing total havoc on society. Frankly, they were geniuses for doing so. While the music was offensive to say the very least, they knew they had a market; 16 year old middle-class white boys who had never been near a gun, a drug, a jail cell, Compton, California or, in my case, a woman.

But this is not a lesson on the history of gangsta rap and its place in music history. As I combed through my You Tube playlist the other day I realized that many of these cult classics are occupying my ‘Favorites’ file (along with my Manilow, of course!). Apparently, these twisted tunes found their way deep into my subconscious because twenty years have passed and I can still bang out every single disgusting lyric to these mutha’ fuc….oops…sorry….lost in the moment.

Just a few of the classic cop-clubbing, pimp-slapping, arrest-warranting hits consuming my compilation…

Gangsta Gangsta

Boys in the Hood

Gangsta’s Paradise

Mind Playing Tricks on Me

Gangsta of Love (no, not the dorky Steve Miller version…but that would be more fitting)

F#&% tha Police

How I Could Just Kill a Man

Nuttin’ but a G Thang

So now for the quiz?

What is more pathetic and comical than a car full of pubescent, dorky, suburban white boys singing gangsta rap?

Yes, you in the back?

Um, Nothing?

Correct! Give our winner an autographed copy of MC Ren’s Kizz My Black Azz album (Yes, its a real record. That’s the actual title. And I owned a one).

The answer is a 38 year old white male, suburbanite, father of three belting out these bad boys while sitting at his desk in his V-neck Old Navy sweater and wrinkle-free Dockers. The truth is that the ONLY white men over the age of 35 that have ever looked cool rapping are The Beastie Boys (R.I.P. Adam “MCA” Yauch) and it should stay that way.

Funny as it may be, it remains a guilty pleasure and a fact. I have still never been near a gun, a jail cell, or a (serious ;)) drug. And the only woman around me now would justifiably punch me in the face if I ever even uttered any of this perverse pungent prose from my gangsta rap brothers.

I promise to continue to keep it real for my homies from hood….just in private from now on.

THE IRISH PERF-EXIT

So, this Buzzfeed article about the Irish Exit has been circulating around the web for the past couple of days.  It has been sent directly to me several times from friends because, like Frank Costanza’s ‘Stop Short’,  its “my move”.  I have been using this badboy for decades but because I don’t work for Buzzfeed or any other reputable news source, my expertise on the subject matter has gone largely unnoticed.

Below is Logan Rhoades’ article 14 Reasons Why The Irish Goodbye Is The Best Exit Strategy and below that is a blog (that later became the final chapter of the book) I wrote 4 years ago titled ‘I Hate Goodbyes’ about varying methodologies and practices to make your Irish Exit, well, perfect.

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14 Reasons Why The Irish Goodbye Is The Best Exit Strategy

Logan Rhoades

BuzzFeed Staff

The Irish goodbye (or whatever you may call it: ghosting, the Swedish/Irish exit, etc.) is basically when you leave somewhere unannounced.

It typically happens after a night of drinking, but the somewhat stealthy move can really be used in any social setting.

So why would someone do this?

  1. It keeps the party going. By sneaking out, you’re allowing others to continue their conversation uninterrupted, which is really thoughtful and something only a good friend would do.
  2. It also lets you leave alone. While exchanging farewells, it’s pretty common for others to piggyback on your departure, but that’s not possible when nobody knows you’re leaving.
  3. In other words, you’re being an ideal guest by ghosting.
  4. Now, there are, of course, personal reasons for the Irish goodbye. For instance, maybe you had a brief moment of clarity where you realized you need to leave now or something bad will happen.
  5. Which, depending on how you want to look at it, also makes Irish exiters good party attendants because nobody likes this dude:
  6. But the main reason for leaving without saying goodbye is because it’s easy.
  7. And getting away with doing things the easy way is one of the greatest joys in life one can experience.
  8. It’s sort of like the feeling one gets when removing one’s shoes or bra after a long day.
  9. Or probably like that high that runners are always talking about.
  10. Plus, it’s sort of fun to be sneaky and see if you can leave without being detected.
  11. And honestly, saying goodbye can be a long process where you can potentially get caught up in multiple never-ending conversations, even though you’ve already expressed your desire to leave.
  12. And let’s face it, some people are just plain awkward, so it’s best to avoid saying goodbye to them anyway.
  13. So is it a little rude to not say goodbye to your friends and fellow party guests? Sure. But with the proper Irish exit, they won’t even know it.
  14. And chances are you’ve done this move several times before, which means it’s now sort of your thing, so they should be understanding. And if they’re not, then THEY’RE the bad friend.

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I Hate Goodbyes

Originally posted August 11, 2011

I hate goodbyes.

Outside of your daughter leaving for college or Junior joining the Navy, goodbyes are unnecessary and annoying. In about 90% of the cases, saying a polite goodbye to someone is not required in my book. Chances are that you are saying goodbye to someone you see on a regular basis or someone you don’t really know or care about. In either case, do we really need to go through the exhausting exercise of saying goodbye?

Handshakes, kisses, hugs, bad jokes, empty promises, blah, blah…I just want to get out of here!

For the record, I am not some rude social-phobe or The Lone Gunman who doesn’t like to interact with people. I simply prefer to keep on moving without getting stuck in a drawn out and boring parting of company. On top of that, goodbyes always illicit some type of emotion (be it genuine or fake) or initiate a lie.

Goodbyes are just prolonging the inevitable. Everything ends. Everybody knows when school is out, the party of over, your last day of work, or you just don’t want to be there anymore.

Let me share a few techniques I have perfected that will ensure a speedy and goodbye-free exit from any situation. Use at your discretion.

The Houdini

You have had an awesome time (“Yeah, we know you had an awesome time, Frank”. Movie?) out with your buddies. A million laughs, a few beers and some great stories. Right now though, you are looking at your watch and just want to get home for the rerun of Mob Wives. So, you could do the handshake/high five/fist-bump-thing with all of your boys and get sucked into that one more beer or do what I do; tell them you are going to the bathroom and never come back. Never fails. In special cases you get out of the check too!

The Chauffeur

Family Party. It has been a long day. Kids are crabby (as is your spouse!). So, you can go through the exhaustive exercise of saying goodbye to Clark, Cousin Eddie, Grandpa Ed and the other 700 Griswalds or try this gem; tell your wife/husband you are putting a few things in the car…and don’t go back in! Trust me, after 10-15 minutes of your absence s/he will figure things out and quickly follow suite. (NOTE: Said spouse may be upset, but it is worth it)

The Fugitive

Company picnic, town fair, kid’s sporting event – name your outdoor social gathering. You have already had far too many terrible conversations for one day and just need to escape. This move is a little bit bold, but very effective. Simply walk away. I have found that a kind smile coupled with a few sidesteps away from crowd and you will quickly blend in with the masses as you work your way to the car. The key is to act casual and walk SLOWLY. Think Richard Kimball in The Fugitive. Any attention drawn to yourself could result in another brutal verbal exchange or, in Kimball’s case, imprisonment. Not sure which is worse? “YOU FIND THAT MAN!”

The Commuter

For those of you with a less than exciting office job with even less responsibility, here is a dangerous but extremely rewarding exit I invented in the early, post-college days. You will need the following items, a jacket (be sure it is seasonally appropriate), a spare set of keys and, if applicable, a pair of glasses. Strategically place these items around your work station. Be sure your computer is turned on and open to some type of work-related file. That’s pretty much it. Gracefully walk out the door and head for home. Co-workers will see the litany of personal items strewn on your desk and simply assume you are elsewhere in the building. By the time anyone realizes you are gone, it’s quitting time anyway!

The Man Without a Country

In truly desperate and painful situations, this one is your last resort. Quite honestly, there is no strategy behind it. You just leave or, in special instances, RUN. And when I say “leave” – leave everything and go. Leave your wallet, your phone, your keys and your dignity. Just run. The Man Without a Country is typically reserved for situations involving the authorities, an ex-boy/girlfriend, or the IRS. I would not recommend this move as you are surely to be left without critical personal property. But hey, a man has to do what a man has to do.

Practice a few these at home with your family (I am sure there are plenty of conversations you want to escape from there as well). Perfect these moves and you will find yourself sitting on your couch by the time anyone looks around and asks “Where did Frank go?” The risk you run performing any of these disappearing acts is getting caught. When you do, you are going to be on the receiving end of the taunting of your buddies, the scowl of your spouse, the look of disappointment from your neighbors, a subpeona or a restraining order. But that’s OK – keep at it!

Until next time….. (Yep, I just ducked out the back door)