Man, that shirt is gay

Last night, I saw some gay guys. Nothing really unusual here, except that last night, for whatever reason, I had an urge to tell one of them, "Man, you look really gay."
I resisted the urge, of course. It just seemed so offensive. Sometimes I tell my friends they look gay, but I'd never say that to a stranger without expecting some kind of confrontation.
See, and we're delving deep into human nature here, straight guys don't like it when people think they're gay. Not even a little bit.
But if you're gay, why would you care? If you're an out-of-the-closet homosexual who is dressing in a manner designed to advertise your homosexuality, would it be offensive if someone merely recognized it?
Hey, I can tell by the way you're dressed that you're a homosexual.
That's a little weird, maybe. And maybe you're unnecessarily stating the obvious. And maybe it's a really bad conversation starter (unless perhaps you yourself are gay, in which case it might just be a really bad pickup line), but I'm not sure why it would be offensive, although I'm fairly sure it would be.
As I've thought about this further, I think this instance, as most social instances go, depends on the phrase and the source.
First is the word, "gay." It's an innocent word, really. Almost totally neutral. The use of the word itself is acceptable at all times. But straight people like me have traditionally used the word to insult other straight people (like me). Much of the time, when a straight guy says "gay" he isn't even referring to homosexuality. He's using it as a much more ambiguous insult. "You're gay," "You're stupid," "You're bad at Halo." It's all the same.
So I understand how using the word "gay" can be insulting. However, the only people who can possibly use "gay" as an insult are straight people, especially straight men. A gay man telling another gay man he looks gay is redundant, but not insulting.
This brings me to my next question: What if you substituted a synonym for "gay" in place of "gay."
I can tell by the way you're dressed that (You're a homosexual/you like men/you participate in an alternative lifestyle).
Would that be offensive? I don't know. Maybe somebody out there can help me answer this question, because I don't know any gay people I could ask and I don't want to try it out on a stranger.

How to Know if You're Fat

If you're like me, you've probably stopped mid-bratwurst and asked yourself, "Am I fat?"

Now, that question is easily answered quantitatively. Some simple measurements and caluculations can tell you whether you are overweight.
But that is not really the question, is it? The question really is, "Do other people thinkI'm fat?" which is much more complex.

From conversations with numerous females and gay men, I have discovered a simple way of answering this question. If, when describing you to someone who has not met you, acquaintences say that you are a) really nice or b) funny, then your friends probably think you're fat, especially if the context of the description involved your love life.

Description (a) is really more of a female fat camoflauge. Though it can apply to males, it is highly desireable for fat men to be funny. We need fat men to be funny, because fat men are taken less seriously than skinny men, thus, even if they are not particularly comedic, we will use that descriptor.

Granted, this could mean that you are not fat, you are just ugly. Although skinny, ugly people (men especially) are more likely to be described as "smart" than "funny."

Pizza Hut, you enrage me

Let's start with a hypothetical. Let's say you are running a national restaurant chain which specializes in a meal most often consumed at dinner.

Consider this question as we move on: What time would you establish as closing time for such an establishment?

Further, let's say that on one particular day, you have decided to donate some of your profits that day to help in the rebuilding of a regional disaster area. You're probably expecting a larger crowd than normal, right? You've just given every indecicive person in the country an added reason to buy from you, and they'll feel good about themselves for doing it. You are going to make a killing today.

Now, after considering the quesion posed above, consider it again, only adjusting for the knowledge that on this special day, your demand will be unusually high. You will be more popular than every other similar competing restaurant on this day.

And let's say Joe Regular gets home from work at about 7 p.m. He's thinking about watching the NBA playoffs, which begin at 8 p.m., and he's thinking about having a pizza. And maybe he checks his e-mail, watches SportsCenter for a while, talks to somebody on the phone and, right around 8, decides he's ready to place his order.

Do you think it would be a good idea, a good business plan, to a) be open, b) answer the phone, and c) take this Joe's order?

I would, but I'm not running Pizza Hut. Maybe they know something I don't.

"Surviving" and "Finals Week"

This is the time of year when every student newspaper in the United States runs a series of stories and columns and news-you-can-use bits advising on "surviving" the end of the semester.

These bits invariably include profound piececs of advice like, "sleep," and "do not commit suicide." Usually, there will be an accompanying column, written by someone who maybe works 12 hours a week in the bookstore, complaining breathlessly about how draining the end of the semester is and how keeping "some level of sanity" is of utmost importance. These reports are always outrageously sensationalized, not to mention shameless indicents of self-plagiarism.

I'm adjusting for the knowledge that, by nature, I am not a highly stress-feeling individual. But I've never actually seen anybody freaking out about the end of the semester. For most of the people I know, the end of the semester means about a week or two of extra reading, writing and 'rithmatic, which can usually be basically complete by 10 p.m. if necessary. And most of the people I know have jobs.

If you don't even have a job, I don't want to hear one peep about "end of the semester stress," or finals week or "pulling an all-nighter." Nobody needs to pull an all-nighter. Nobody. Get up at 8, work until 5 and proceed to ace all your exams. That's not stress. That's having something to do besides check Facebook.

Over the last two weeks of the semester, I have, and will continue to have, a lot to do. It's annoying. But it's not "wearing me down." It just means I can't watch Conan.

Perks

I spend a lot of breath complaining about my job. I won't get into all the reasons why, but being a sports writer seems to do that to people. I think you have to have done it to really understand, but it basically comes down to this:

1. The quality of your work is sometimes out of your own hands
2. The pay and hours are terrible
3. Nobody likes you

But I'm not writing to complain today. I'm going to get a little melodramatic.
One of the perks about covering professional sports is, on occasion, you're there when a guy's dream comes true.

Last fall, I was interviewing a lowly drafted receiver, Jeff Webb, at the moment he found out he had made the Chiefs' roster. It was after a preseason game in which Webb had performed well. General manager Carl Peterson had just told reporters that Webb was going to make the team, and the message was relayed to Webb.

His eyes moistened, and you could see he didn't know what to say. The first person he thought of was Ruby, his grandmother, who had raised him. He couldn't wait to call Ruby.

Jeff Webb had just learned that he was set. He had, for practical purposes, just become a millionaire. He had a new life. The dream he had dreamed since childhood had just become real.

Shirtless, and shoeless, he hustled to find Peterson. He shook his hand and asked, "Did you really say that?"

I've been there for more of these moments this weekend. About 10 minutes after a player is drafted, his team calls him for a conference call with local media. Often, he's on a cell phone in a crowded bar, friends and family still cheering. For some of these guys, football is their only chance in life.

And when they find out their dream comes true, I get to be there. I see lives change.
And that's pretty cool.

We're Gathering Information

Being a journalist by trade, I live in a news (speficifally sports news) saturated environment, meaning I deal with a lot of athletes, coaches and public relations professionals.

Among the irritants in my profession are PR people, a group of paranoid double talkers whose duties in "public relations" seem to mainly involve keeping things private and not relating to anybody but their superiors.

Anyway, PR people have a few standard go-to plays when they're in trouble. Among these are "it was a mutual agreement," "we are moving on," and "no, he is not talking today." But my favorite is "we're gathering information," a line usually tossed around when, for instance, an associate has been arrested for masterbating to porn on his in-car DVD and slamming his SUV into a parked car, and being caught on video (this actually happened in the NBA last year). "No comment" is sooo 1995. The new "no comment" is "we're gathering information," which really means, "we're sitting in our offices going about our normal work, hoping you won't call back."

Another of my favorites, which always comes courtesy of an athlete or coach, is "I know what the truth is, and that's all that matters." Actually, no, that's not all that matters. Just ask Barry Bonds. Whether he's taken steroids or not, everybody who has ever watched Major League Baseball thinks he took steriods. Whether he did or didn't at this point is irrelevant. Bonds is a steroid user because we think he's a steroid user. This is how it works with public figures. It is in their best interest most of the time to talk about things.

We in the media get a lot of criticism for running with stories without talking to the priciples involved. Things like trade rumors, Curt Schilling's bloody sock, whether players are transferring, etc. all tend to follow similar reporterial arcs -- rumor, reports with unnamed sources, denial/non-denial by the priciples, resolution. These criticisms are valid. I am against using unnamed sources unless the story is so big and the information is so sensitive that it's the only way. However, the reason reporters run with this stuff is that the athletes/coaches/managers won't ever say anything more insightful than "we're gathering information" or "when something happens, you'll know." Everything is a big secret.

I would say more, but I'm currently gathering information.

I'm a Crappy Writer

I cannot write academic papers.

This has occured to me recently as I've turned in a remarkable string of C and D papers which I, while writing them, thought would be B papers. It seems that all of the principles and elements of writing which I like, and writing which real people actually read and enjoy are useless in academia. No more narratives (too disputable), no more humor (too much irony makes the writer's attitude seem sour), no more original figures of speech (the instructor will almost always find them "trite"), but no cliches either.

I like to think of myself as a decent writer. Many people have told me that I am. I've won numerous writing awards, both as an amateur and a professional. At least I hope I'm a decent writer, because my inability to perform mathematics is reaching legendary status within my circle of friends and family.

Professors hate my writing. All of them. Going back to 2003, I have received an A on one paper, an essay in which I was to analyze and compare two advertisements. I'll concede that for much of this time period, I have not given an A effort on these papers. But I have not expected As. It has never been much of a priority for me to get As. A mixture of Bs and Cs will suffice, and I've given a mixture of B and C effort, only to receive Cs and Ds and Fs.

The most inexplicable instances have come this semester, in my English class, which is instructed by a woman named J. Karen Ray, who on the first day of class called herself "a bit of a bear." She also has made no secret of her far left political ideologies and has jokingly sprinkled anti-male commentary throughout the semester. I'm not saying these things have had an effect on my grades, but I'm not saying they haven't.

Now, most of the time, when I get a poor grade, I know what the problems are before the paper is even returned to me. The comments are usually no surprise. With Ray, I have no idea, even after having the paper returned, what the real problems were. So I talked to her about it, and came away with this:

1. She doesn't like the tone of my writing -- an ambiguous criticism that could literally be used every single time, no matter what the tone was. If you just felt like giving somebody an F because you didn't like the look on their face (or their reproductive organs), this is one you'd definitely use.
2. She thinks I use too many generalities -- this was a valid criticism, until I rewrote the paper to address all of the generalities she didn't like the first time around.

Anyway, now I'm here trying to craft a 10-page paper about a topic on which she completely disagrees with me. This should go well.