Many moons ago, my wife and I found ourselves at a Black Angus restaurant.
I’d like to welcome back those of you who just picked yourselves up off the floor. I don’t know what we were thinking, either. See, my best friend works at The Arroyo Chophouse in Pasadena, whch is the best steak house in the entire city, possibly in the universe.
But it was a youthful indescretion, sort of like that one that that happened with that intern that one time in the elevator. Whatever, man. Like you wouldn’t have. Quit judging me!
Ahem. Anyway, the waitress came over to our table after our food had been delivered, and asked, "Is everything excellent?" She said it just like that. I mean, I could hear the italics and everything.
I know that this poor girl was just doing her job, just as she’d been when she tried to upsell us on "a half-carafe or perhaps a full carafe of Fetzer merlot" ("Thanks, we’ll just have iced tea," we politely responded) but something inside me snapped. Before I could stop myself, I heard the following come out of my mouth: "Excellent? Excellent? No," I said, "It’s fine, and in fact I’ll even tell you that it’s nice, but excellent? If I said yes, I’d really be devaluing the whole word — and concept — of ‘excellent.’"
Anne gasped. The muzak was interrupted by the scratching of a needle across vinyl.
Remember in Cable Guy, when they’re at Medieval Times, and Janeane Garafolo looks at Matthew Broderick and just says, "Dude?" and we all know that he’s the asshole? It was like that. BUT! Before you freak out at me, I apologized for my little outburst, and over-tipped the girl for her suffering (I think it was in the 50% range.) But I did not — and I will not — waiver on whether the excellence, or lack therof.
On the way home, Anne turned to me out of nowhere and said, "Excellent? We’re at Black Angus. Let’s try for adequate and go from there."
"Well thanks for speaking up for me when we were in there," I said. "It was excellent that you had my back."
She punched me in the arm, which I whined about for the next several days.
I relate this story now, because I’ve been thinking about the word — and concept of — awesome, and how it applies to my life. Awesome is even more important than excellent, and I’ve discovered that I’ve probably devalued awesome a little bit in the last year or so.
Most of the time, I don’t feel particularly awesome, though I harbor secret dreams of one day achieving a state of hawesome, which I seriously doubt will ever come. But today, I got my very first Well Placed Anonymous Source e-mail, and I have to admit, I feel kind of awesome.
In response to my post about Young Chuck Norris, Deep Throat writes:
I have some facts I can share about Young Chuck Norris that may help to clear the air.
It was written October (by Andrew Steele), but it didn’t get a green light until Lazy Sunday’s success opened the doors for shorts like these. The Lonely Island guys weren’t aware of the Chuck Norris Facts meme until after the short aired and everyone started emailing it to them.
It is a parody of 80’s hair rock videos. They liked the American We Stand As One video and thought it would be a cool homage to dress the guy like him. Also it was a convenient way to describe the look to the costume department. The total shooting budget was zero dollars. All of the non-SNL people in the video were just random people from the park (including the kids).
Other than the wardrobe, any similarities are coincidental. They are all just cliches one finds in 80’s rock videos.
Your Well Placed Anonymous Source
I’d like to take this opportunity to thank my Well Placed Anonymous Source, (mine! if you want one, get your own, goddammit!) and again invite everyone who freaked out at me about my post to run as fast as they can into that brick wall over there. Trust me, it’s the first step toward picking up a sense of humor.
If any other anonymous sources would like to communicate with me, put a red flower pot on your balcony, or a green "X" made from hand-colored duct tape in the right corner of your car’s rear window. I’ll be in touch.