Ideas Marinating Blog

Every so often while running my group, I feel it necessary to pair up with someone else in order to spice it up a bit. Our recent Christmas Party was a perfect example of that. I teamed up with David Shapiro, a promoter from the U.S. to host a party at Fluid Nightclub. With new injected energy, lots of dancing and hours of socializing happening, the party was very well received. As such, a point to do it again was made. So this year, I teamed up with Steven, one of the members of a mysterious group of individuals who run the copyrighted Saturday Nite Social Mixer’s parties. Quite mysterious indeed as they have no base of operations and are not affiliated with any one group or website, like say, I am with meetup.com. They are like a swarm of happy-go lucky locust, swooping down bars and clubs, leaving only a trail of empty beer bottles and a lot of cash on the hands of the bartenders. It’s a beautiful, if strange symbiotic relationship.

So after a few emails back and forth, the joint effort was a go: We were to pillage Philthy McNasty’s on Saturday, February the 2nd. So I show up and there are tons of people. I one point early in the evening I guesstimated about seventy at least. Now the interesting thing was the sheer amount of people who I did not know. Generally, in my groups there are a number of people who have become ‘regulars,’ or more to the point, just friends. We do not need a social event to hang out at, go for drinks or go for dinner. This time it was very much not so, although it is always a pleasure to meet new people. But every so often, just like one would in any other forum, you meet some really, really weird people.

Take exhibit A: I had taken my camera to take some shots of the social. I am surfing in and out the crowds, introducing myself as I go. This girl is putting on her coat so I think she is leaving. So I extend my hand forward, in a firm and friendly, I-am-NOT-trying-to-pick-you-up way and ask her for her name. After which I was going add that I hoped she had a good time. Instead, her expressionless face, still glued to a TV said:

‘It doesn’t matter…’ In a monotone voice.
‘Uh?’ Did I miss something? Did I have something stuck in my teeth? Well, she wouldn’t know that since she hasn’t even looked at me. Odd…
‘Are you okay?” I asked, and as one of the organizers with a bit of concern.
Her head was still locked to the wall mounted TV, her eyes starring freakishly upwards, looking both distracted and drugged.
‘It doesn’t matter…’ She repeated, slowly.

See, the interesting part when someone doesn’t want to talk to you is that you can always catch hints by their tone of voice and body language. They are always the tell-tale sign. But it gets disturbing when faced with well below Forrest-Gump-like synaptic responses, I simply stall. Should I leave? Should I be worried? Do I still have something stuck in my teeth? Are they high?

She was putting her coat quite alright, so I ruled out drugged or drunk. I wagered she probably thought I was hitting on her. But she still had not even bothered to make eye contact to even determined that I was not. Since I doubt anyone would think a guy holding out his hand the way you do to heads of state while holding a camera in the other as the coolest, smoothest approach to hit on a woman. Bitch? Nah, perhaps just very rude.

I looked at her one last time, her eyes still glued to the TV.
“You are weird.” I said as I walked away. Some people are just odd.

At around 11:00pm most of the girls in the group approached me to inform me of their need to dance. So the party was arranged into three groups: Some went on to Fluid, others to Devil’s Martini and the last to a place called RockWood. I for one, I chose neither, opting for a more quiet fourth option. Needless to say, for what I heard it was a really good night of dancing. That’s what matters.

If you would like to check my groups, try The TO23-35 Social and The 25-40 Social Groups. Although they overlap, they tend to cater to a different crowd. Oh, one last thing, I only share the odd and strange stories to you but they are quite rare. So don’t be shy, come out! Wait on for exhibit B coming soon!

Someone close to me bought me a book entitled “The Year of Living Biblically,” ironically, as a Christmas present. At first, when you crack the sucker open it is hard not to feel comfortable as you sail past the first few pages. A. J. Jacobs, a self-described agnostic-Jew who takes pride in his generally God-less existence, is a fun, if a little neurotic scribe. He guides you quite easily through the origins and the concept of his project: To live one year as literally conscious of the Bible as possible –and yes, also book contract. So far, he hasn’t let that one veer to far out of his peripheral sight. As much as he may want to learn more about the insights of living a non-secular life style, so far he has made note of his book contract about five times into the read. You need to work on that one A.J.

I am not going to lie to you, I haven’t finished the book yet, as I am only on page 108 out of 332. So far he has read the bible(s) as there are countless versions –some experts count them well into over a thousand– and pointed out many of the pseudo-forgotten rules within the ‘book of all books.’ Down to the downright obscure: “Kill all magicians!”or the rule disallowing men –and some women– from “trimming the ends of your beard.” Which by proxy includes skipping on shaving altogether, hence his Tres-homeless chic look. Or my personal favourite: If in the scene on an unresolved crime, you must break the neck of a cow as sacrifice. Can you imagine that?

‘Honey, what happened to the $5 I left on the coffee table?’
‘I don’t know. I didn’t take it though.’
‘That’s alright, I have a cow right here. Hi cow.’
‘Moo?’
SNAAPPPPPP!!
‘That’s okay honey! I took care of it.’

There are also some other strange ones, like not touching women… specially if menstruating. In fact not only you ladies are unclean but everything you touch, including me, a chair or a bench becomes unclean as per Leviticus 15:20: “everything upon which she lies during her impurity shall be unclean; everything also upon which she sits shall be unclean.” And you thought being a leper was bad enough. At least we have found a cure for that one.

With such truck-load worth of idiosyncrasies, I cannot help enjoying the book so far. Hearing some of the most ludicrous and forgotten rules from the Bible, as they themselves are presented as proverbs and parables from A.J.’s current day life in New York city make for quite the funny read. However it makes me realize two things. First, –and this is my own personal choice– as someone raised in a Catholic household who has read the New Testament, the Torah (parts of the Talmud) and the Koran: Holy books should never be taken completely literally, as they simple contradict themselves way too much. This is how political agendas are fueled and wars started.

The “Give the other cheek…” argument VS. “Eye for an eye.”
…”Stone all gays.” VS. “Let he without sin cast the first stone.”
…”Kill magicians\ stone sinners, and non-believers!” VS. The *Don’t do onto others what you would not like done to you,* Golden Rule.

The list goes on and on… for centuries. Secondly, as easygoing as A.J. is, ultimately he is praying –pun intended– on a gimmick to make money. A stunt, a piece of chicanery that although amusing never relents its true intentions: Sell books. Make money. So, the questioned begged here at the end of the day is: How Christian/Jewish/Muslin/Hindu/Scientology?/*insert next religion here* is that?

I find it amusing that as I read this book, I am getting stopped on cafes, buses, subways and well, anywhere I like to read–9+ times so far– about this book. Mostly because they have seen the author getting interviewed on CNN, or some morning show. Guess the advertising budget is working its magic. Pretty sharp A.J. Pretty sharp.

I will post more once I finish the book.

In our western society, few are the times for greater reflection than on, and around New Year’s. A time to look back at a set of time and space and ponder on the deeds and non-deeds that have carried us to this point in our lives. A time only followed by one’s birthday and the death of a loved one in the totem pole order of reflectiveness. Surely many secular-types would like to add Lent, Christmas and Ramadan to name a few, but from an general perspective, New Year’s still has a certain Je ne sais quoi, which can inspire or still be abhorred by all people equally.

As I have always said, ‘people do not take enough time to know themselves.’ It is most unfortunate as this is one of the most important lessons a human being can learn. Alas, this is generally not the case. In fact, people will pay others to half-ass do it for them. Hence the number of inspirational Jesters out there who, for a fee, will surgar coat wonderful promises of ‘how you too, can be happy with money/love/sex/or all three!’ …It is quite the multi-million dollar industry. While omitting the fact they themselves would be as poor as dirt had you not paid them to tell you how you too, can be like them. Which ironically, it would have to be by you charging other people and tell them how they too, can be happy with money/love/sex/or all three. Creating some evil infinite loop where someone just has to be miserable for the whole industry to exist.

So I sit here, babysitting the flu and wondering about my last year on earth. Nothing better than spending it alone and sick as an old chapter approaches to a close. As you can imagine, it had both its highs and lows. Ultimately –for us who do it– that is, put your life on a proverbial balance from time to time, the hope is for said balance to lean over onto the highs rather than he lows. But this year, sadly, it has been a little too even. Losing a very loved one, changing jobs, faced some life-long illnesses. Well, I could just take it in for what it is and call it George, right? But I can’t do that! For it has been a year of some really good accomplishments. As they say, ‘the longer the fall, the more alive you will feel looking back down at the abyss when you climb out.’ And although I am not totally out… no point in lying, right? I can see the top closer than ever before. Teasing me to move forth. It will be sad to let go of a few things –someone in particular– but that’s how life is. The view is going to be breathtaking.

So, I sit here, waiting for the flu to get the hell out of my body and for my immune system to really get cracking. I mean, what else do I pay it for?

I hope all of you are in good health and have some interesting plans for the weekend; And subsequently, take the time to find out where and who you are. Only then you will know where you are going! Cheers.

In one of my adventures as an organizer of a social group I found myself at a trendy lounge in downtown Toronto next to someone who was wearing a shirt that read: ‘Remember my name, because you will be screaming it later.’
Never having heard before, I could not restrain myself from commenting: ‘Funny,’ I said with a hint of friendly sarcasm. Then asked if it ever worked, ‘It worked while I was in Vancouver’ he responded.

He was funny and he didn’t strike me as the shy type. Actually he seemed like the type who would benefit from a little shyness.

We quickly got into conversation. The usual things you would talk to a stranger at a bar. He had just moved to Toronto from aforementioned Vancouver –hated the weather, by the way—and had just gotten a job at a computer firm. My old job as a computer analyst gave us more few things in common but being a Friday, we non-verbally agreed not to speak about our jobs. ‘So what else do you do?’
Ah…here is where things got interesting.

‘A have a side business…’ he said hiding a smile. ‘I am just starting.’
I could tell he was hesitating. It was understandable; I was a complete stranger and had talked for less than five minutes. He reached in his jeans and pulled a business card and handed over to me. It was thinner than average, matte and with cheap looking ink. The main caption read ‘Enlightened Heart.’ Printed in calligraphy not much different than what you would find on a turn of the 1800’s cover of a Harlequin novel. His name was below this.

Wha? I said out loud, not fully understanding.
‘I teach shy people how to get women.’
‘Really?’ I said without disguising the doubt in my voice.
‘Yes.’
‘What are your credentials?’
‘My life.’
‘Huh?’
‘Yeah.’

Then read the back of the card, ‘Personal life and relationship mentor,’ and an uplifting quote regarding being able to get what you want out of life. I asked if he was any good with the ladies. No answer, just a sheepish smile.

‘If so, why come out to my social group?’ I asked.
‘Field research.’
Damn. At least he was honest.

‘You know,’ I said, ‘I give a lot of free advise; doing it for over a decade now… Heck, you could say that I am giving away the business for free.’
‘The world is not short of misguided people.’ He commented.
God, did I know that to be right. He made me think: What if I have gotten five dollars for every time I helped someone hook up with their crush? Ten for every time I set someone up? And, what if I charged by the hour for the long nights spent over the phone telling a friend who had just been dumped that he\she would be fine until four o’clock in the morning? Holy mother lode! This guy was onto something.

From then on we jumped head first into many theories regarding dating and the mating dance. I have to admit, he had some good points regarding how to approach a woman: avoid pickup lines at all costs. The importance of attitude over looks, paying attention to details most men overlook and other general things. Even though we saw it from different sides of the fence, which is understandable as a point of view based on experience. It was still interesting to see the similarities and not so similar takes on the opposite sex. The verdict: ‘the dating scene’ is biased towards the shy and the timid. No secret there.

By the way, did I mention there were four ladies sitting between ‘Dale’ and me? Listening to everything we had said and I have to admit they did not seem very impressed with either of us. Not that we were being lewd, but I think she did not appreciate two men sucking the romanticism out of romanticism by making it sound like some sort of hard science. By the way, Dale, if you ever read this, I am giving you free advertising, so don’t come complaining.

A few hours later, Dale said he had another party to attend to but he was glad that the dropped by. I knew he was in fact networking for his business but told him he was welcome to drop by anytime. After all, that’s my job as the organizer of a social group.

’So is this what he really does?’ A woman in my group asked at the end of the night while studying his business card.
‘So it seems,” I said.
‘Strange, overall, he seemed kinda quiet.’

** Would you like to find out more about my social groups? Then wait no longer, click here!**