Five things about me, aka "Friday Night soul-baring"

I am ready to connect with my readership on a much more personal level. I feel exposed, but this is necessary:

1. In third grade math class we had a daily activity where we each offered up an equation that equaled the corresponding chronological number of days since the first day of school (on day 30 of the school year, we made equations for 30). Creativity and added difficulty were appreciated. Day 49 is a day I will never forget. After Billy Joe Dipshit volunteered "48 plus 1", I shot my hand in the air and said "seven squared" (I was not a prodigy or anything, my dad had explained the simplicity of squaring a number the night before). I killed it. The teacher was floored. I may as well have struck a match and burned that classroom to the ground. Since then I have gotten married and become a father to two beautiful children, so I think I can say this is no longer the greatest day of my life, but I will never forget.

2. For years I have fudged my "biggest splash" contest record. If you know me at all, you have probably heard me say I was undefeated in contests where the participants jump into a pool and see who can make the biggest splash. This is not true. I will say that my "nightmare" jump, a modified sleeper wherein I kick my feet throughout the jump, is vastly superior to a normal sleeper or a cannonball. However, I lost splash contests, and I apologize to all of my friends and family whom I have told otherwise. What was I thinking spouting off that I was undefeated? For God's sake, there are not official records or codified rules and the scoring is so damn subjective! I hate myself for this and feel I have made wrongs that I cannot right.

3. Today a woman left her driver's door open while pumping gas and impeded my cutting through to park and go into the store. I slowly drove around the door and missed it by about a foot. In my rearview mirror I could tell she was pissed and she hurried around to the door to close it. We entered the store at the same time and I was preparing myself for this conversation:

Her: You almost hit my door!
Me: Did I? Oh, you're welcome.
Her: What?!?
Me: For the lesson.
Her (irate): What are you talking about?!?
Me: You learned to close your driver's side door while pumping gas, you're welcome.

Then I would have thrown a $100 bill on the counter and left. It would have been very cool. Did not happen. She bought some cigarettes and left without acknowledging my presence.

4. Like many, I enjoy singing to myself. However, I have an added twist. I insert vulgarities in the short breaks between lines. For example, the Garth Brooks classic "Thunder Rolls" would sound something like this:

The thunder rolls
(WOO, SHIT)
And the lightning strikes
(HOT DAMN)
Another love grows cold
(MOTHER FUCKERS)
On this sleepless night
(SHIT THE BED)...

I know it seems juvenile and obnoxious, but somewhere deep down inside I think it could really work out. I just have not gotten the opportunity in front of an audience.

5. I do not like pranks, at all. Count me out. They are not funny, they are not fun. They are just a pain in the ass. If I could ensure that I am never pranked again and that I will never be guilted into pranking someone else, I would be at peace. Maybe I am just not a "fun person", but the idea of having to clean a bunch of toilet paper out of my fucking tree is not appealing.

The worst parts of The Office (otherwise great show) were the pranks. Oh look, a stapler in jello. Way to go Jim, cheap laughs, how about using your dry wit instead? And didn't Slater take apart Belding's car or something? He should have been suspended. (different show)

Scene:
Friend: "Hey Proctor! Prank war! (asshole sprays a bunch of easy cheese all over everything)
Me: I am calling the police

Sometimes I feel like I should "play along", but I cannot mask my seething anger. What is one little prank call you ask? Well, it could be blocking the line for someone trying to call to tell me a loved one is in the hospital. Hope you got your laughs! Please do not prank call me. I take the phone seriously.

Guide to the Holidays 2016: Gift Ideas

Back in 2013, I started an annual "guide to the holidays"(encouraging bringing chips to a potluck, candle recommendation, promoting The Killers Christmas songs, Crosby even wrote one!). Unfortunately, it has taken until 2016 to renew this cherished tradition. Hopefully, readers have continued to partake in the holidays in the interim.

In 2014, I gave some gift ideas. This year, let's combine the two. Here, in a guide to the holidays, are some more gift ideas.
______________________________________________________________________________

Gift buying can be tedious. Whether it is honing in on the perfect gift or buying for someone difficult, deciding what to buy can put a lot of strain on the holidays. Here is some help:

The Gift that Keeps on Giving

Want to reduce stress and add deliciousness to someone's life in the coming year? Pre-pay for them to have queso every time they go to their favorite Mexican restaurant in 2017. Its simple, hand the maitre d' a $100 bill, hold up a picture of the gift-getter, and say "this son of a bitch doesn't pay for queso the whole year!". Whoever gets the gift will be floored when queso comes out with the initial chips and salsa. No decisions to make, just a meal-turned-fiesta EVERY TIME they go.

Feliz Navidad! 

Membership to a Colds Club

Some of my in-laws got me a three month membership to a beer club for my birthday and it was fantastic. Once a month, I received a brew shipment composed of a couple of selections from different out-of-state breweries. Sometimes knowing that quality cold ones were en route is all that got me through the month. Just kidding, but it was exciting. 

There are some questions about whether you can ship alcohol in Kentucky. My thoughts? Don't ask. Maintain plausible deniability: if colds show up on your doorstep, thank the sender and drink them, no questions asked.

Christmas every month.

Weird sign I took a picture of in a store

Who would want this? Maybe someone on your list?

I do not know why someone would want to hang this up. Why the permanence? The message seems like something that shy youths text to one another. I hope it is not a blanket declaration to all readers, because that would be the epitome of desperation. Anyway, maybe you know someone who wants this sign. At least there is potential for a lewd joke.

Some exotic cheeses, a case of moderately-priced red wine, and a Killers album release date

*wink*

The Gym Complaint and the Aftermath

This morning at 5:15 I rolled into the gym sleepy and groggy from last night's cold ones. I was nearing beginning my routine of listening to my headphones and wondering around aimlessly for a little while when I was approached by a YMCA employee, whom we will call "floor person". I had a few previous encounters with this floor person, whose job is basically to patrol the exercise area. Before, she had told me that I was not allowed to take my shoes off to deadlift (apparently she makes exceptions for people doing yoga, which is infuriating). As she approached, I looked down to see my shoed-feet and wondered what the hell she wanted this time.

"Eric, yesterday when you were dead-lifting, I got a couple of complaints about how loud it is when you drop the weights after you are done." Naturally, wanting to confront my dipshit accusers, I said "well, who was it that complained?" The floor person refused to tell me, to which I said that the complaint was noted but that I would not be changing anything about how I dead-lift next Tuesday or any Tuesday thereafter. The floor person, agitated, recommend that, if I cannot lower the weights quietly, I use less weight. Well, that's not an option, bro. Then she pointed to some guy dead-lifting for reps and said "see, he can do it." Now I was getting steamed, "that's 135, (floor person), that is NOT THE SAME AT ALL." Then she sniped "well, you need to either make less noise or use less weight". In an effort to control my outrage at being told by a gym employee not to make noise with weights AT A FUCKING GYM, I stepped onto a slow moving treadmill and assured the floor person that I would make the "slightest of efforts" to make less noise.

As I strolled along on the treadmill, I recalled the part of the exchange where the floor person told me that I wasn't the only member of the gym and that it is her job to make sure everyone is comfortable. Seething, I yanked the cord that you are supposed to yank if you are passing out on the treadmill and it came to a sudden stop. I stormed off to the front desk and asked the woman working there if she was the manager on duty. She informed me that she was in fact the branch Assistant Director, an admission that I am sure she immediately regretted.

I told her the gist of mine and the floor person's conversation. Then I proceeded to tell her that I did not believe that "comfort" of the members should be the top priority of a gym. I reminded her that we were at a gym and not a hotel. I asked her if this particular floor person frequently accosted other members despite them abiding by the rules of the gym or if I was being singled out. And finally I pointed out that there was not a sign prohibiting a loud lowering of weights. During this entire exchange, she nodded her head and said she agreed with me. Whether she did or whether she just wanted the maniac in front of her to leave her alone, we will never know. Fortunately, I reminded her many times that I was not "mad at her". Eventually I shut up and she told me she would pass along the information to the Director.

Later, in an effort to cheer myself up, I was listening to Lonely Island on the elliptical when I saw the Assistant Director accompanying a familiar face into the gym mat area. Apparently this guy and another guy had gotten into some type of verbal altercation and the familiar face went to grab a mediator. As I watched this guy's mouth move, it became apparent he was doing a lot of needless complaining, Suddenly I recalled that this asshole was doing some type of side bend on the back extension machine (it should be noted that despite this being an improper use of the machine, he was not cited by the floor person) just a few feet from where I was dead-lifting yesterday. It appeared I had unearthed one of my accusers. But how to play it?

After I finished my last "Level 7" "hill" on the elliptical machine, I decided to talk to the Assistant Director one more time. Before she could see me coming, I slipped in front of her and immediately began contrasting whatever happened between those two guys and my situation. While they were making complaints, I was responding to a complaint lodged against me. While they had obviously broken a posted rule barring verbal abuse, I had not broken any posted rule. Finally, while they had been instigating one another, I  just wanted to put my headphones on, limit interactions, and go about my business.

In the end, I decided to appear to be the bigger man and closed my bitching with a plea for the status quo. I told the Assistant Director that I never wanted this.  That, despite being impossible due to the inability to time travel, I wish mine and the floor person's conversation had never taken place. I told her that I wake up early to lift as a means to relieve stress from "a one-year-old, a three-year-old and over a hundred clients, of whom at least half are currently incarcerated." Most importantly, I told her that "I love this YMCA, from the sauna, to the childcare, to the readily available clean towels and I would never want to go anywhere else." However, I did remind her that this situation needed some type of resolution and that we would see what happens next Tuesday.

I am afraid my scan card will be deactivated tomorrow.

Guy's Baptism as told by Guy Thomas Proctor and Crosby Jane Proctor

My Baptism by Guy

A couple of weeks ago, I hit my baptism so hard. Sis's bday was the day before, so it is safe to say I was in party mode all weekend. Baptism morning I was still feeling the effects of a late night (7:30), so I bonked out for an A.M. siesta before the big event. Next thing you know dad busts in with no chill whatsoever and tells me its time to go. Then he loses his cool when he realizes I filled up a record diaper. It was not my fault sis wanted Mexican for her bday. Naturally, I went wild on some refrieds and nachos. Sue me, pops.

Anyway, him and Nana scrambled to get me ready to meet up with moms and sis at church. Dad drove kind of fast on the way, which was fun at first but unsettling on the tummy. Once we got there, moms started asking pops why we were late. We were only one minute late so I said to mom, "what did you think they were gonna do, baptize somebody else?" I really clowned her.

Once the big moment arrived and we all went up front with Pastor Jane, the feels started hitting me so hard. We had my big church moment going, I was still kind of sleepy, and Pops wouldn't let me see the bulletin.  I had to shed a few tears guys. Then, out of the blue, Pastor Jane, who is normally pretty chill, starts dousing my dome with H2O! I was not mentally in bath mode, so that really threw me off and the tears kept flowing. After awhile Pastor J took me on a tour of the big church room and I got to meet my new church fam. Then I got treats.

Guy's Baptism by Crosby

My birthday weekend culminated with Guy's baptism, which teetered on being an absolute disaster. While Mom and I managed to get to Sunday school at 9:45, Dad and Guy were nowhere to be found at 11:00: the starting time for Guy's baptism. Then, at what was probably about 11:05, but felt like 11:15 due to embarrassment, Dad comes storming in like a lunatic with a sock-less Guy. Dad seemed defeated and appeared to be out-of-breath. Although he had simply been tasked with dressing a child and driving them to a location ten minutes away, he behaved as if he had just fled a war-torn country. Thankfully, mom and I were there to calm the chaos.

Cool pose, Dad.

When it came time for the ceremony, Guy became upset, which is understandable considering he likes to be on time to major life events and his feet were probably cold. For some baffling reason Dad would not let him look at his own baptism bulletin, which upset him more. Guy cried and cried as he tried to get his bulletin, and in a monumental display of weakness, Dad managed to let Guy knock the bulletin out his hand three times. I did my best to get Guy's attention and cheer him up a little bit. For my efforts, I got a "watch out, honey" from Dad. Watch out? For what? Fortunately, me, Mom, and Pastor Jane got Guy away from him and shored up a successful baptism. Afterwards, all Dad could talk about was what he was going to order at the celebratory lunch. Yeah, you earned that.

EXPLAINED: "All I Wanna Do Is Make Love To You" by Heart

The Heart classic "All I Wanna Do Is Make Love To You" is both powerful and beautiful. But it is also one of the most fucked up songs ever written.

If unfamiliar, please check this out

As a courtesy to my readers, I will walk you through the lyrics of the song in order to show you just how truly messed up the story really is. (The lyrics are in bold and my comments are in italics). 

It was a rainy night when he came into sight
Standing by the road, no umbrella, no coat
So I pulled up along side and I offered him a ride

A woman, apparently cruising for loose men, happened upon a woefully under-dressed stranger getting rained on. Seeming to take pity on him, she creeps to a stop and volunteers to drive him. But what are her true motives? (foreshadowing)
He accepted with a smile so we drove for a while

Possibly lacking verbal skills, the man proves he knows as little about the dangers of accepting rides from strangers as he does about dressing for inclement weather by accepting the narrator's proposition with a smile. The two drive aimlessly for reasons unknown. 

I didn't ask him his name, this lonely boy in the rain

Preferring to think of her passenger as possibly-under-aged and wet, she declines to ask his name.

Fate tell me it's right, is this love at first sight

Wait, what? The aimless, silent driving has apparently created quite a spark between the two. She asks fate (which does not make any sense when you think about it) if the two of them are now in love. It is unknown what, if anything, fate answers.

Please don't make it wrong, just stay for the night

This does not make any sense at all, but it is clear she wants him to spend the night.

All I want to do is make love to you
Say you will you want me too
All I want to do is make love to you
I've got lovin' arms to hold on to

In the hopes that he will accept, the narrator proposes that they have sex. As part of her selling of the idea, she emphasizes her arms and that them having sex is her singular focus.

So we found this hotel, it was a place I knew well

For some reason they have to locate a hotel that she knows the exact location of. She has spent a lot of time there. This is something of a plot-hole, which will be explained later.

We made magic that night. Oh, he did everything right
He brought the woman out of me, so many times, easily

Apparently the hapless nitwit is a very capable lover.

And in the morning when he woke all I left him was a note
I told him I am the flower you are the seed
We walked in the garden we planted a tree

She slipped out before he awoke and she left him a note with an extremly confusing analogy. 
Don't try to find me, please don't you dare
Just live in my memory, you'll always be there

She asks him not to try and locate her, but demands that he stay in her memory. Both requests are odd. If he wants to find her, it will not be hard, considering that she frequents the hotel they just spent the night in. And the second line sounds like something from Inception.

All I want to do is make love to you
One night of love was all we knew
All want to do is make love to you
I've got lovin' arms to hold on to

Oh, oooh, we made love
Love like strangers
All night long
We made love

The primary theme is really driven home.

Then it happened one day, we came round the same way
You can imagine his surprise when he saw his own eyes

They run into one another and she has birthed his child. He is shocked.
I said please, please understand
I'm in love with another man
And what he couldn't give me
was the one little thing that you can

She makes one perfectly reasonable request: that he accept that she sought him out, used him for his sperm, had his child without telling him or ever intending to tell him, and that she was in love with an impotent man, and not him, the entire time.

STILL UNANSWERED: So if she was in a relationship the whole time, why did she know the hotel so well? Did she repeat this same scenario over and over until pregnant? And if so, why did she think her and the lonely boy in the rain were fated to be with one another? 

All I want to do is make love to you
One night of love was all we knew
All I want to do is make love to you
Come on, say you will, you want me too

All I want to do is make love to you
One night of love was all we knew
All I want to do is make love to you
Say you will, you want me too

All night long...

More of this... 

"Little Bro is Turning One"- A Guest Blog by Crosby Jane Proctor

Tomorrow is Guy's first birthday, but we are celebrating today. Needless to say, I am pretty excited. Most of the main players (Nana, Grammy, Papa, Papaw etc.) will be here and the treats will be given out willy-nilly. Yours truly will almost certainly be charged with opening all the gifts, primarily because Guy would just try to eat all the wrapping. Unfortunately, Dad will feel the need to intervene with the occasional "now, Crosby, you know those are Guy's gifts, not yours". Yes, Dad, I know that, that is why I am writing it now, six hours before the party. It will not be necessary to reiterate at any point during the party.

As for Dad, he is masquerading as if he is not turning this party into exactly what he wants. First off, Mom told him "hey, your parents want to know if they can bring anything". To which he stammered and replied "uhhh, I guess we could tell them to bring... beer", as if this is some novel idea and he does not always ask his parents to bring beer to every get together. Second, we are having pizza and Dad keeps saying "I'm okay with whatever kind you all want", which sounds like he is being flexible, but is really just a factual statement that he loves all kinds of pizza. Finally, we are having the party in one of his favorite places: the backyard. He will set up the tent for shade, get out the corn-hole boards, and make a playlist of some of HIS favorite music. Fortunately, the over/under on someone asking him to turn the music down is about five minutes.

Despite Dad trying to make the party his own, we all understand that it is for Guy. That is why Mom and I made him his own cake and he is going to get to stay up until 7:30, a whole half-hour past his bedtime. He will get some gifts and probably some cash for his college fund. Hopefully, he gets some kind of scholarship so he can "bonk" beers at some state school and I can use the remainder of his fund to begin my study abroad (Paris). 

Being a one year old is a big deal. I would know because I have been there and done that. You learn to walk around and get some words going, most of which benefit yourself (more, mommy, daddy etc.). One-year-olds have to kick the formula, which is tough at first, but once you go milk, you never go back. The best thing about being one? NO ACCOUNTABILITY! Want to grab a knife? Go for it! Because safety is the primary concern, discipline gets thrown out the window. Sometimes, I long for the days of being one, but then I remember the perk of being two: screen time! The house rules say no TV for Guy. Which makes this picture I snapped while Dad was watching Guy yesterday all the more interesting...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BIG GUY!

Crosby Jane Proctor is a two year old and a frequent contributor to proctorstype.com. 

A Day with Pops- A guest blog by Guy Thomas Proctor

What's up world??? I figured after almost a year it was time to hit dad's blog so hard. So anyway, I am kicking it at home for the third straight day because of the no fever policy at school. Girls, I guess I'm just too hot. (Sorry, had to throw a little dude humor in). The first couple of days I chilled out with Mom, but today Pops has the gig.

This morning he told me not to worry because when sis was little he watched her one day a week. Well, first off, I am not worried because worrying messes up my chill. Second, I don't think he realizes the difference between me and Cros; she may need to be "intellectually stimulated" or whatever, whereas I am just trying to live my life. The only way this day could go sideways is if we skip some meals or forget snack time. If we grub, we're good pops.

He also keeps asking me what I want to do. Its simple dude: bonk a bottle, bonk some solids, and bonk out for nap. I may hit some cardio and crawl around or do some body-weight lifts, but I am not trying to get after it that hard AT ALL today. TGIF, pops, do you know what that means? I say we queue up some Linkin Park to rage a little but also hit the feels so hard.

The only beef I can see arising is if dad makes the fake chicken nuggets and eats them all while I am napping. Share the love pops and let me get in on that honey mustard action too. If we need to make two boxes, so be it, it is dude's day after all. And if Mom wonders why we ate so many nuggs, we will just blame it on the dog or something.

Guy Thomas Proctor is a dude's dude. This is his first blog on proctorstype.com. 

Hummus: just accept it for what it is

Hummus has been around for a long time. (I guess. I didn't really bother to research it, but it is Greek or something so it is old.) However, hummus has only been a "thing" for a handful of years now. Most grocery stores carry it and it is a frequent appetizer selection at restaurants. But try going to a 1992 Kroger and finding hummus. NOT HAPPENING. Hummus, despite existing for a long time, has only been a mainstream food for about ten years.

So why is it that so many people parade around consuming hummus and saying that have been eating it "forever?" I would very much enjoy splitting a hummus app and not having some asshole bragging about this being his 1000th hummus plate. We get it, you like hummus, can't you just say that without inflating the stats? Even worse is the false hummus connection with a past event. "I remember being a boy, my dad taking me fishing, and us just eating hummus right there on the dock." NO YOU FUCKING DO NOT!

Delicious, but also a source of rage.

On the complete opposite end of the spectrum are people who treat hummus as if it is the latest creation. I was at a ballgame a couple of years ago and Sabra was giving out samples. "Hey, want to try a new healthy snack before the game?" Well, I've had hummus before, but if you want me to act like some dipshit who hasn't in order to get a free snack then I will. Now, let's go back to the hummus app sharing scenario I discussed earlier. "Oh hey, this could be fun, how do you say it, ho, hooo, hoomus?" Its "hummus" jackass and now you've convinced me to get the spinach and artichoke dip.

Men's Multi-Level Marketing

Tonight, my wife is going to a "party" where the host sells a special line of clothing that cannot be purchased in stores. Basically, a friend-of-a-friend's basement becomes a pop-up store and invitees congregate to discuss how "cute" various things are and inevitably make a couple of purchases. The host gets a cut, invitees/customers get something unique that they want, fun is had and friendships are formed. Everyone wins.

This got me thinking, I have never once been invited to something like this. These purchase parties are not just limited to clothes; from kitchen stuff to jewelry to "meal prep" parties, there are plenty of potential invitations to be sent. But I have not received even a pity invite. And that is fine, because, as construed, I would not be interested whatsoever in attending one of these events. On the other hand, anytime one comes up, it trumps whatever "plans" I may or may not have had, so I end up at home with the kids for bedtime.

The reason for the superiority of these parties over my loose and/or nonexistent plans is the structure and planning involved. Invitations are sent, snacks are prepared and if the host is a good enough friend, attendance is basically mandatory. Compare this to "going to Ben's to watch the game" or the even less imperative "going to Ben's to drink beer".  Obviously, my "plans" are going to lose out every time.

With this in mind, we, as uninvited men, need to start our own comparable purchase parties. First, whatever we sale cannot be easily purchased at a local store. Otherwise "you don't need to go to that, just go get it at the store" is the easiest of retorts. Second, the host needs to be selling something we would actually want to buy. Finally, and unfortunately, this cannot be half-assed or the ruse will be exposed.

What could meet all this criteria? AN IMPORT BEER PARTY. It would not necessarily need to be an actual "imported beer", but rather a beer that cannot be purchased locally. The host would drive somewhere, buy a shit load of beer, and at the party sell the beer at a premium that covers cost and makes a small profit. For example, I could host a Yuengling party since it cannot be purchased locally. I would drive to Cincinnati, get a keg of 'gling, and as many cases as I could fit in my car. At the party, guests could buy cold ones from the keg for $1 and/or a  case for $25-30. Honestly, breaking even financially would be more than worth it.

These could "set the mood"

Now I just need someone to explain "invitations" to me.

#spotthecoldone > Pokemon Go

The youths are telling me that I should play Pokemon Go. Apparently it is a phone game where you go to real places and look for fake cartoon characters. It makes absolutely no sense. How do you win? Can you win? And even if you "win", by whatever definition, what do you get? These are rhetorical questions. Please do not reply to this post and tell me anything else about the game.

Now, I will be the first to admit that I do not "get it". If that makes me "old" or "out-of-touch", then so be it. But I want this to be clear: at no point am I ever going to want to have anything to do with this game whatsoever, in any sense of the imagination.

I know there are others out there who agree with me. You may be afraid to say "I do not want to play Pokemon Go" for fear of being ridiculed by a grown-up wondering aimlessly around a parking lot looking for an image of a little orange dinosaur named Peekechoo. Fear not, I am here for you and I made up an alternative game for us.

#Spotthecoldone is simple, no apps are required. You look around for a brew and when you find one, you crack it open and drink it. That's it, you win. And on yeah, part of the "fun" of Pokemon is the social media aspect, so that is why I made the hashtag. If you find a cold one, feel free to post something with the hashtag. Have fun and be safe.

A victory! #spotthecoldone