Are you a self-important and intoxicated person who has considered slurring “Do you know who I am?” while being arrested? Before body cam footage of the incident ends up on a TMZ video segment, consider these less direct rejoinders to deal with the situation.
“Do you know who I was when starting out and the world looked bright and hopeful?”
“Do you know who I’ll be after my sex change operation?”
“Do you remember when we were young politicians and cops without a care in the world?”
“Do you know who I’d be if I had studied harder in school and applied myself?”
“Do you know the way to San Jose?”
“Do you know you’re kind of cute when you wrestle a suspect to the ground?”
“Do you know you’re not the first person to suggest I have a drinking problem?”
“Do you have a gun in your holster, or are you just pleased to see me?”
“Do you have any helpful tips on passing sobriety tests?”
You want to respond to an article you’ve read in a newspaper or magazine. How can you increase the chances your thoughtful and compelling letter will be published? Rule number one: It is always about you. Here are some examples:
Having lived my life as a modern interpretive dancer trapped in the body of a certified public accountant, I question writer Phyllis Foster’s thesis that people who can’t balance their checkbook are pansexual.
Your profile of football legend Johnny Unitas brought back memories of the time I dropped acid with Bart Starr.
As someone who was abducted by space aliens and endured six months of daily full-body cavity searches, I agree with Dr. Ross Sturgeon’s guidance in his piece, “The Importance of Regular Colonoscopy Screening for Colorectal Cancer.”
I am a direct descendent of one of Julias Ceaser’s illegitimate children, and totally disagree with the article, “Lizzie Borden’s Parents Had It Coming.”
Gerhard Flixter’s flawless coverage of high school marching bands brought back visceral memories of tuba jam sessions during my 90s youth in Knockemstiff, Ohio.
Kelefa Sanneh’s insightful deep dive into the world of septic tank construction and maintenance omitted mention of my great great grandfather, Leon Flushman, the inventor of the outlet pipe.
I was delighted to read Nora Plotsky’s brilliant piece on 1940s film stars who could not roll their Rs. As the speech coach who taught Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson to sing without a lisp, I only wish I could have been there to help Lauren Bacall master “Ay, caramba!”
Being custodian of the letters from the Ty-D-Bol Man, I take issue with the recent piece, “A Custodian of Letters is Nothing More Than an Exalted Janitor.”
Loraine Kimblebee’s thoughtful meditation on underwater karaoke clubs reminded me of the time oceanographer Jacques Cousteau bet me I couldn’t gargle a mouthful of goldfish.
When I began a long-term relationship with journalist Leon Paxton, I didn’t realize I would become the subject of his three-part series, “A Ravishing Chatbot Named Zelda Destroyed My Marriage.”
I’ve always had a rich inner life. I’m constantly in touch with my true inner self; I never forget to tell me to have a nice day; and, of course, I never forget to remind my thoughts, emotions, and dreams: “No, you’re special.”
It’s because I value my inner life so much that I recently decided it was time for me to get some inner life insurance.
There are many insurance companies from which to choose, but after dreaming on it for a few months, I selected Allstate of Consciousness. It was a no-brainer, because I always go with my fantasies over my gut instincts.
After organizing my thoughts in the proper order of colors, I put on my favorite Bill Evans album, settled into my comfortable chair, took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and envisioned I was meeting the salesman from Allstate of Consciousness.
As expected, he was nothing like your typical pushy insurance salesman. He was everything I wanted and needed him to be. His name was Carl. His handshake was not too firm or limp. He only cared about my needs and desires. And best of all, halfway through his softest of soft sell pitch, he said, “You know what, I’m not going to charge you anything for this policy.”
I imagined carefully reading the 1500-page policy – all fine print – and thoroughly absorbed every detail. It was as easy as imagining reading a rental car agreement. Without hesitation, I signed it.
The inner life insurance policy I selected included member, non-member and dismember benefits; income replacement for years of non-existent salary; and funds for my imaginary children’s education should I die and have no money to leave nobody. Carl also threw in protection for fatal horseshoe crab bites.
And if that wasn’t enough, Carl and I became close personal friends for life and after. How close? We swore if either of us ever moved, the other would be there to help load the moving van – with even the heavy stuff like fold-out beds.
If you have a rich inner life, I recommend getting inner life insurance. You will never regret it. But whatever you do, NEVER IMAGINE GETTING A REVERSE MORTGAGE!
Has your life been frozen in indecision? Mine too, I think.
Can’t decide whether to continue reading this? I agonized over whether to continue writing it.
If you are always unsure of everything, here is one thing of which you can be certain: You are not alone. Of that, I’m fifty percent certain.
Look around. Chances are the first person you see is wondering whether to upgrade their phone plan.
If you’re in line at McDonald’s, I bet the guy in front of you is thinking, “Should I order a Big Mac or a Quarter Pounder with Cheese?” Eventually, he’ll give up and think, “The hell with it; I’ll order a Filet-O-Fish sandwich.”
In a world full of people who can’t make up their minds, you are just a face in the vacillating crowd.
I’m just like you. On Career Day in high school, I had no idea what I wanted to be after graduation. I lied and said I wanted to be a butler for an aging matriarch.
Here’s the only certainty: You will never be certain. Embrace your indecisiveness.
If you are a Revolutionary War reenactor, stand with pride when yelling, “Fire or don’t fire until you see the whites of their eyes.”
When applying for a job, tell your interviewer without hesitation, “I may or may not be the right person for this position.”
When proposing marriage, tell that special gal or guy, “I’ve always wondered if you were the one for me.”
Just do it – or not. You’ve got nowhere to go but up, down, or remain in the same place.
Ever heard this: “We used to be best friends. Now we’re enemies.”
How does that happen?
I’m sure no one ever said, “After my close personal friend Adolph Hitler wrote “Mein Kampf,” I told him, “That’s it, we’re not fishing chums any longer.”
It seems like half the litigants on TV court shows describe themselves as “former friends” –- former friends who now want to kick their new ex-bestie in the groin, accuse them of grand theft auto and block them on Facebook.
How do you get from “There’s nothing we wouldn’t do for each other” to “He slept with five of my girlfriends and sodomized my pet gerbil”? Why do some former friends have trouble picking up on subtle vibes?
I’d venture to say none of my friends would commit war crimes or hijack my Netflix account. How do I know? Well, it helps to be, at the very least, an average judge of character.
So why do friendships go from good to former? I don’t have an answer—at least an answer that doesn’t make me sound smug and self-righteous. I can only recommend that if, after an evening of heavy drinking, your good friend is still upset because you hit on his girlfriend, said sweet nothings into her nose ring, then stumbled to your car and keyed it from head to taillight, it might be time to graciously say, “I think it’s time we start seeing other friends.”
I believe anything I read or hear that includes the words “experts say.”
I trust all experts, even ones wearing propeller beanies. Why? According to Randall Gasket, chairman of the Kalamazoo Community College Department of Hipster Studies, “What’s not to believe?”
When writers, authors and Tik Tok-ers quote experts, they are telling you: “If you don’t believe me, listen to this egg head.”
Would you believe information not backed up by quotes from experts? Not according to Felicity Punder of Punder Research and Polling: “Eighty-four percent of our respondents, ages zero to 307 believe anything they read that includes the phrase “Most Mensa members say.”
You should believe them, too, even if you’ve never heard of the expert or the college, company or coffee shop at which they reside; because it’s an indisputable fact, according to Professor Emeritus Franklin Cockburn, Ed.D., MSW, IOU at Boola Boola State College.
To be clear, the phrase, “experts say” should never be confused with the oft-repeated Trumpian expression “a lot of people tell me,” which invariably points to foolish falsehoods.
Are experts infallible? “Absolutely,” says author and recent parolee John Clintoff. “I especially trust the smart and insightful investors in my new cryptocurrency startup.”
Dr. Daniel Spivak, author of I Met 1000 Women on Tinder Claiming to be Beyonce puts it another way: “If I didn’t believe everything I read, I wouldn’t have met my current wife, Bella Hadid.”
Spivak, who is currently researching his next book, I Scream Footnotes During Sex, emphasizes the importance of professional opinions: “Any fool can say two and two equals four. It never hurts to have it confirmed by an obscure mathematician from a small, Welsh technical college.”
Despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, I still wonder if I over-rely on expert opinions. But according to my online therapist, an Instagram influencer with over fifty followers, I can never be too careful – except when waiting over an hour at a Yield sign.
On a more personal note, according to my wife I’m a gullible fool.
Comedy writer Ben Alper has written for Jay Leno, David Letterman and is the author of “Thank You for Not Talking: A Laughable Look at Introverts.”
Everyone needs a friend, or at least one person who will pick you up at the airport or pay a ransom to a Nigerian prince.
Making new friends is never easy. However, there are ways to make the process easier. Here are just a few that don’t require paying someone to say, “No, those jeans definitely don’t make your left buttock look big.
Take initiative – You’ll never know if that perfect stranger you spot on the subway could be your best buddy unless you step forward and invite him hiking on the Appalachian Trail for a week.
Smile – A beaming grin will make you appear approachable. And even if it doesn’t lead to a burgeoning friendship, it may at least get you a good reference for some excellent psychotherapy.
Be a good listener – People appreciate an empathetic ear – as well as a sympathetic nose and a compassionate eyebrow.
Join a new club or organization – Just because a group is being monitored by the FBI doesn’t mean you won’t meet a lifelong friend at its yearly Aryan Resistance Barbecue.
Be open about your flaws – Sooner or later, someone will appreciate the fact that you’re a middle-aged man still living with your parents.
Be curious – People love to be asked questions. For example: “I noticed your name tag reads ‘Big Penis Parksdale.’ Is your middle name ‘Penis’?”
Try a new activity – Some of the most interesting people you’ll ever meet belong to Greek Orthodox fire walking clubs.
Step outside your comfort zone – Delivering a TED talk about losing your virginity to a pretzel kingpin from Königreich Romkerhall may seem like too much sharing, but how else are you going to meet other people who lost their virginity to someone from Königreich Romkerhall?
Be enthusiastic – You can’t imagine how many people will want to know more about you by simply screaming at the top of your lungs, “OH GOD, YES, SUPERSIZE IT!
Be yourself – Unless, of course you can be a more interesting version of you.
If someone can read tea leaves or Tarot cards, should we assume they can also read a rental car agreement?
Never go to a discount therapist who shows you his perspiration stain and asks, “What’s the first thing that comes to your mind?”
Think twice about returning to a restaurant that charged you extra for the Heimlich maneuver.
I believe
The Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act (RICO) should never be used for parking violations, and certainly not for failing to pick up your small dog’s poop.
Has this ever happened to you?
Have you ever thought a stranger is talking to you, only to realize they’re actually talking on their phone? If you’re like most people, you immediately feel embarrassed. But look at it this way: In all probability, you are a more interesting conversationalist than the person on the other end of that call. In fact, had that person been calling you, you probably would have let it gone straight to voicemail. Because, if they’re not calling to talk about last night’s orgy and networking meetup, you can’t be bothered.
Frank and I have been together for two years. We’re your typical extrovert/introvert couple. He’s gregarious. I occasionally make eye contact with my cat. I prefer to socialize with a few friends – by few I mean in numbers from zero to Frank. Frank prefers rubbing shoulders with the Mormon Tabernacle choir.
Last week I made reservations at a small intimate restaurant à deux. Frank invited a pack of cousins, five of whom belong to a “Deliverance” renenactors club. I’ve never been a devotee of one-tooth banjo players, but I couldn’t bring myself to say no.
This happens all the time. Frank always insists we socialize as part of a mob. (I’ll save our evening with the Gambino family for another question.) I love him dearly and want this relationship to work. How can I convince him to respect my need for solitude and shorter conga lines?
Mobbed in Manhasset
Dear Mobbed,
Introvert/extrovert relationships can be a mixed blessing. I once dated an extrovert who wanted to have a three-way with me and my inner voice. This same extrovert introduced me to the amazing world of group rates.
A loving and thoughtful extrovert can help you emerge from your shell and broaden your world. But stand up for yourself. Just because you’re an introvert doesn’t mean you can’t be an introvert princess warrior. Frank sounds like a keeper. Tell him how you feel and tell him to keep his friends at a distance.
Mindy Menorah, Ph.D., LCSW, PDF is a licensed, bonded, and insured couples therapist. For 23 years she was the official Osmond family mediator.
I’m an extreme introvert. How extreme? I’ve yet to make eye contact with my goldfish.
I was recently required to attend a cocktail party hosted by my employer. It was the kind of social gathering I avoid like a plague, the kind of plague in which I don’t know the other plague victims.
To help survive the evening I enlisted the assistance of an amateur hypnotist friend who claimed he could get me to act like an extrovert. Unfortunately, he thought it would be funny to transform me into an extroverted monkey every time someone said the word “strategize.”
Aside from one small incident when I hurled my feces at the VP of Sales, the evening went well. I even approached and flirted with our new intern from Uzbekistan. She speaks little English and found my outgoing simian airs enchanting. We’ve since been dating regularly for two months.
Here’s my dilemma. Continuing to speak and act like a monkey hasn’t been a problem. Continuing to speak and act like an extroverted monkey has. It takes so much energy and is exhausting. I like this girl and don’t want to lose her. What do I do?
Going Bananas in Birmingham
Dear Bananas,
There is nothing wrong with going ape for a girl, even a girl who can’t tell the difference between a human and another mammal. But in the end you have to listen to your inner primate. You’re an introvert and will always be an introvert. Give your Uzbeki intern a chance. If she loves you as an outgoing monkey, she may come to appreciate you as a solitary, thoughtful chimpanzee.
Andy Brightman is a former CIA intelligence officer. “To Hell and Back: My 35 Years in Cubicle 289D” is his recently-published autobiography.
Living Inside My Head 