It's with great regret to inform everyone that Old Navy's future is in peril. I have no idea what I'm going to do if they go under. Whether its boxers, cargo pants, plaid shirts, or jeans, I'll have no where to shop.
I didn't always choose O.N. as my primary apparel supplier. I would always check in with the classy joints, but they always seemed to not serve "my kind." When the GAP first arrived on scene, I thought that I was in nerdy preppy guy heaven. The khakis, the shirts, the jacket of the year - it was all so exciting.
The first time I perused some of the merchandise at the GAP, I was sadly disappointed. The pants sizes were in the 32-34 range, and even the 36s were way on the back of the shelves - or even the top shelf,only accessible by ladder. The GAP was where I started my line of, "Are there more in the back?"
I confided in one of my favorite females from the days of high school. She was the one that suggested to me asking about more in the back. As great of an idea this was, it was always met with a hearty "No" accompanied by a look that said, 'You belong at the Big and Tall.'
Whenever the ladder was brought out, it only announced to everyone that this guy is a plus size and needs to get his fancy pants to try to be like the normal people.
This reminds me of the day I went to "Murray's" clothing store on Northern Blvd with my dad. He was genuinely rooting for me to be cool, maybe even kiss a girl. It was 6th grade and I was invited to a party that the whole class was attending. Murray's was known to our family as the store to get my school uniform because they had the "husky" sizes. I enjoyed this label, because it hinted at some type of stealthy pride, not what it would indicate if the pant sizes were labeled 36 "wide" or 36 "expansive."
We went downstairs, where the boys' husky sizes were located. When descending those steps it almost reminded me of going to a secret club, or the back room with the saloon doors at the video store. (80s were great)
There, we purchased a black hooded sweatshirt that read "HUGO BOSS" on it. I learned that this was a fashionable brand out of Europe, and reminded me of travelling. I later discovered that it was the same one that Rocky wore in Rocky IV when Apollo died, except in black.
Along with it, we purchased my first pair of not-black jeans. I'm not certain I impressed the girl I had liked, but I felt good nonetheless. After all, the sweatshirt was roomy, and didn't show any unsightly bulges in my torso that my body was manufacturing at this time.
It may have worked, since I was later invited to her house for a birthday party. Any functionality I had ceased when I showed up with my Pete Mitchell hair parted on the side, dress pants and flowers. The crowd was definitely not familiar, and I believe I had embarrassed myself. This was the inception of the term I used in unfamiliar territory called, "The Angry Faces."
Old Navy had my sizes. It was my go to store for pants that fit, and I never had to ask for anyone to check in the back. The XXL sweaters were as far as the eye could see. The only thing I ever fit into at Abercrombie and Fitch was a hat that wasn't fitted.
Stay with us boys, I need you. Polo shirt season is coming up.
ck
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
01-13/The Ceety Life
I currently reside in the serene and gentle rolling hills of Bay Shore, NY. In front of our house, a proud tree dispenses a sap so sticky, that numerous car washes can not rid this mysterious liquid from the paint. Through the second story window I stare at a cat that made it atop the tree - it was staring back at me as I dined on Doritos, shirtless after the gym. A photo of Arnold Schwarzenegger from 1985 looked on with disapproval.
A Sprint store and Mavis Discount Tires proudly stand guard opposite of each other on the end of the block. There is a fire hydrant near, just in case. Numerous vans and autos crowd in front of the Sprint store, blocking a view of the oncoming traffic, making it a gamble with the fates to turn your car onto the Sunrise Highway Service Road.
I believe that store must offer free bagels or donuts, a prize most coveted on the shores of the bay.
Down the road, a hearty family restaurant called "Burger King" billows out the aroma of flame broiled delicacies from as far as Riverhead, NY. You can dine on any of their delicious tapas, reservation free.
36 short miles away a mighty bazaar awaits. Exotic animals called Cees roam the streets, but be careful, sometimes they bite. People selling goods yell out their prices, while the beating of drums and fiddles play in the background.
You can enter dark hovels for an entrance fee, where people gather and tasty elixirs are served on ice. If you ascend upon these people and watch them, mini carpets of thick hair can be seen huddling around females. Sometimes these herds move around, as they follow the female.
Suddenly everyone stops - a vile stench is noticed immediately. Cees. A pack has wandered in, sneering and hungry for blood and free elixirs. Every hunter believes they can outsmart a Cee, but it usually ends in the same tragedy. The Cee likes to attack the chest and rip out the heart.
Penn station has 99 cent Hot Dogs.
ck
A Sprint store and Mavis Discount Tires proudly stand guard opposite of each other on the end of the block. There is a fire hydrant near, just in case. Numerous vans and autos crowd in front of the Sprint store, blocking a view of the oncoming traffic, making it a gamble with the fates to turn your car onto the Sunrise Highway Service Road.
I believe that store must offer free bagels or donuts, a prize most coveted on the shores of the bay.
Down the road, a hearty family restaurant called "Burger King" billows out the aroma of flame broiled delicacies from as far as Riverhead, NY. You can dine on any of their delicious tapas, reservation free.
36 short miles away a mighty bazaar awaits. Exotic animals called Cees roam the streets, but be careful, sometimes they bite. People selling goods yell out their prices, while the beating of drums and fiddles play in the background.
You can enter dark hovels for an entrance fee, where people gather and tasty elixirs are served on ice. If you ascend upon these people and watch them, mini carpets of thick hair can be seen huddling around females. Sometimes these herds move around, as they follow the female.
Suddenly everyone stops - a vile stench is noticed immediately. Cees. A pack has wandered in, sneering and hungry for blood and free elixirs. Every hunter believes they can outsmart a Cee, but it usually ends in the same tragedy. The Cee likes to attack the chest and rip out the heart.
Penn station has 99 cent Hot Dogs.
ck
Saturday, January 10, 2009
01-10/Picture of the Week
Kostrum/APMark Cassamassa at his current job preparing for a big day at Giants Stadium.
"It's the Method Man for short Mr. Meth Movin on your left, aah! And set it off, get it off, let it off like a gat I wanna break full, cock me back Sign Loweeeeeeeee!!"
ck
Thursday, January 8, 2009
01-08/Here is your Zen
Just to let everyone know, polo is just not an invention of one Ralph Loren. I always thought that "Polo" by Ralph Loren was just an inventive smell created for the facade of thick gelled hair and expensive watches while wearing at suit at a fundraiser. The sport actually exists.
Its 1am and change. The ESPN wire is reporting that the Red Sox are close to a deal with John Smolz and useless Rocco Baldelli. I should be pitching against Rocco in my long island amateur baseball league, but for some reason teams love that he can hit ten home runs in only thirty games that he can make through. I feel for his illness, but come on. He should be drinking beers in the parking lot after one of our games where one team wins 15 to 12 only because the game ended because of darkness.
Just then I look up and a bunch of horses, who have no idea what they have done with their lives, are running around with a dude on their back hitting a ball around. What are these horses' motivation? Please sir, don't hit me with that stupid malot again.
Then after scoring a goal, they get a field goal of some sort.
The players wear a helmet, but what about these horses? I can only imagine a time-out when the horses are sitting there while the players are talking strategy..
"Dude, did you just shit?"
"Yeah bro, I had waaaaaay too many oats last night"
"Dude, your ass stinks"
All the players hear is a bunch of neighing and snuffing with the horses heads bobbing. Really all these horses want to do is get out of another match without getting hit by a 60 mph cue ball.
So after these matches these jockeys must go out for stella artoise after not showering, and the horses get more hay. Maybe after a big win the horses use their creepy long faces to shower each other in their shit laden hay.
The horses should at least get a party with some mares and maybe some grey goose in their troughs. They are the athletes that should get credit.
I guess there are no subs either. In reality if I was a horse on the sideline and all my friends were running around after a ball that looks like a salt lick, you better believe I'm running after it and I'll bite it.
They should have goalies too. Put a nice horse there with some pads and a helmet. The helmet could even be painted with a cool logo, or a mad looking horse with fire coming out of its nostrils with a barn in the background.
In my book, any horse that can make a butterfly save isn't going to the glue factory.
Commentator; "Whew these are the games that take your breath away."
This match is going into sudden death. I don't think the horses like that term.
Ck
Its 1am and change. The ESPN wire is reporting that the Red Sox are close to a deal with John Smolz and useless Rocco Baldelli. I should be pitching against Rocco in my long island amateur baseball league, but for some reason teams love that he can hit ten home runs in only thirty games that he can make through. I feel for his illness, but come on. He should be drinking beers in the parking lot after one of our games where one team wins 15 to 12 only because the game ended because of darkness.
Just then I look up and a bunch of horses, who have no idea what they have done with their lives, are running around with a dude on their back hitting a ball around. What are these horses' motivation? Please sir, don't hit me with that stupid malot again.
Then after scoring a goal, they get a field goal of some sort.
The players wear a helmet, but what about these horses? I can only imagine a time-out when the horses are sitting there while the players are talking strategy..
"Dude, did you just shit?"
"Yeah bro, I had waaaaaay too many oats last night"
"Dude, your ass stinks"
All the players hear is a bunch of neighing and snuffing with the horses heads bobbing. Really all these horses want to do is get out of another match without getting hit by a 60 mph cue ball.
So after these matches these jockeys must go out for stella artoise after not showering, and the horses get more hay. Maybe after a big win the horses use their creepy long faces to shower each other in their shit laden hay.
The horses should at least get a party with some mares and maybe some grey goose in their troughs. They are the athletes that should get credit.
I guess there are no subs either. In reality if I was a horse on the sideline and all my friends were running around after a ball that looks like a salt lick, you better believe I'm running after it and I'll bite it.
They should have goalies too. Put a nice horse there with some pads and a helmet. The helmet could even be painted with a cool logo, or a mad looking horse with fire coming out of its nostrils with a barn in the background.
In my book, any horse that can make a butterfly save isn't going to the glue factory.
Commentator; "Whew these are the games that take your breath away."
This match is going into sudden death. I don't think the horses like that term.
Ck
Sunday, January 4, 2009
01-06/The Week Ahead
Events this week include the Giants beating the Eagles, and the St Francis Prep class of 99 ten year reunion. Both will include drinking and crying, but that is just another weekend for me anyway.
I'm sure the best part of preparation for this week is the grooming for the reunion. For five straight days, the gym will be visited, and chicken and rice will all of a sudden taste deliciously necessary. Beware of the attack of the random situps and pushups.
Mark down how many times you spot these things to keep score.
People twirling expensive car keys in their hand during conversation.
"So.......What have you been up to?"
"Are you a pilot now?"...followed by..."Oh, you mean with the wands outside the plane?"
"Can I send you my resume?"
"Good times, we got to hang out again." People inputting phone numbers.
"The first German Club President to ever have two terms."
Watch for hookup attempts, where you will see desperate tries to get phone numbers from people you were not good enough for back then. I'm sure now with receding hairlines, and an extra 30 pounds, the chances are even better.
I look forward to watching all of these events, and desperately wish I had a film crew for evidence. I will hope that my old lunch lady who gave me free food will be serving the drinks this time around. For good measure, I may pretend to have asthma so I don't have to run for gym class.
ck
I'm sure the best part of preparation for this week is the grooming for the reunion. For five straight days, the gym will be visited, and chicken and rice will all of a sudden taste deliciously necessary. Beware of the attack of the random situps and pushups.
Mark down how many times you spot these things to keep score.
People twirling expensive car keys in their hand during conversation.
"So.......What have you been up to?"
"Are you a pilot now?"...followed by..."Oh, you mean with the wands outside the plane?"
"Can I send you my resume?"
"Good times, we got to hang out again." People inputting phone numbers.
"The first German Club President to ever have two terms."
Watch for hookup attempts, where you will see desperate tries to get phone numbers from people you were not good enough for back then. I'm sure now with receding hairlines, and an extra 30 pounds, the chances are even better.
I look forward to watching all of these events, and desperately wish I had a film crew for evidence. I will hope that my old lunch lady who gave me free food will be serving the drinks this time around. For good measure, I may pretend to have asthma so I don't have to run for gym class.
ck
Friday, January 2, 2009
01-02/Holiday Recap
Well you've made it past the holidays. For those of you that are home owners, you can retire your good plates and silverware back to their resting place. For those of you that are not, you can start hitting the mac and cheese again, as the rib eye's and hams go back to special occasion meal status. Unless of course, you make lamb meatloafs in a 3x4 conventional oven on the regular.
It is sad to see holiday parties go, though. As I attended almost none this year, I still think they are a cool concept. While the food and alcohol is usually provided, its fun to see how your co-workers act when they get a little tipsy. I am reminded of a great Holiday Party episode Of Married With Children. Al, late getting to the bank, can see the employees inside drinking, dancing, and throwing money in the air, while Marcy makes copies of her ass on the xerox.
Happily, we will have a month or so break from Jared and Zale's commercials. They seem to think that nothing says holidays during a bad economy like giving someone a diamond ring. I believe it was DeBeers who used to have that violin music aimed at giving you a panic attack unless you ran to the store and bought an anniversary necklace. "A diamond is forever." So is herpes.
The violin tune was catchy though. As it got more intense it seemed like you were watching a murder mystery. Is he going to give her the necklace? Maybe he's going to kill her?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4vXHm8TzLzE
Car commercials are just as bad. Lexus seems to think that most people live in 5 bedroom snow covered houses, and to brighten up someone special's holiday means a 50,000 dollar car. Sounds pretty good actually.
I think though, they should film my roomate buying me a used Suzuki Sidekick with a bow on it and driving it up to our rented 2nd and 3rd floor of a house. I hope my 80 year old landlord is in the shot taking out the garbage in his underwear while his wife is yelling at him from the door. Awesome.
ck
It is sad to see holiday parties go, though. As I attended almost none this year, I still think they are a cool concept. While the food and alcohol is usually provided, its fun to see how your co-workers act when they get a little tipsy. I am reminded of a great Holiday Party episode Of Married With Children. Al, late getting to the bank, can see the employees inside drinking, dancing, and throwing money in the air, while Marcy makes copies of her ass on the xerox.
Happily, we will have a month or so break from Jared and Zale's commercials. They seem to think that nothing says holidays during a bad economy like giving someone a diamond ring. I believe it was DeBeers who used to have that violin music aimed at giving you a panic attack unless you ran to the store and bought an anniversary necklace. "A diamond is forever." So is herpes.
The violin tune was catchy though. As it got more intense it seemed like you were watching a murder mystery. Is he going to give her the necklace? Maybe he's going to kill her?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4vXHm8TzLzE
Car commercials are just as bad. Lexus seems to think that most people live in 5 bedroom snow covered houses, and to brighten up someone special's holiday means a 50,000 dollar car. Sounds pretty good actually.
I think though, they should film my roomate buying me a used Suzuki Sidekick with a bow on it and driving it up to our rented 2nd and 3rd floor of a house. I hope my 80 year old landlord is in the shot taking out the garbage in his underwear while his wife is yelling at him from the door. Awesome.
ck
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