A mutant life of its own

FIRST OFF THIS PICTURE ISN'T ME!!!!!


Altmike has the toughest beard known to mankind.
This has been confirmed by the barbers who work in the shop where I get shaved.
According to the barbers, my beard is so robust that the hair grows in multiple directions.
It takes a minimum of four separate mach3 razors for them to get me a close shave.
You think I am kidding? I kid you not.



Each time I call to make an appointment I envision the three barbers drawing straws to see who is the unlucky schlub that gets the thankless job of tackling my stubble.
Gordon, the senior of the barbers says that he can actually see my beard growing back at the same time he is shaving it off.
It is as if my beard has a mutant life of its own.
Three weeks ago I stopped attempting to shave it myself entirely because the up and down motion from sparring with my own whiskers inflamed my tennis elbow.
Seriously.

How rude of me

Hi there.

I am taking a wee break from blogging because I have been busy with this and that.

I didn't really tell you I was leaving for a little bit...HOW RUDE OF ME.


I will be back real soon because I have some things to say.

See you soon and thanks for keeping up with me......

.alt>mike

My Homeland Security Giant Fantasy

The state of the nation is such that I feel.. lost. Alone. Unsure.
First, the war.
Now, Rosie leaving "The View".
It is all too much.

I want to feel safe.
I want to feel secure.

Therefore, I want a 6 foot 3 or taller person to lay on top of me.

Is that so wrong?

I want to be face down. I want to be enveloped by my giant's bigness.
This is not about sex, it is about security. If you want sex go here or here.

In fact, I would prefer my giant to remain fully clothed.
My giant could be straight or gay.
My giant could be a man or a woman, but it will probably end up being a man because I want my giant to be all natural, no steroids and I know how hard it is to find a good natural amazon woman these days.

Frankly, I haven't had the best of luck finding interested candidates for the position of "homeland giant". I noticed a new guy at work last week ...probably 30 years old or so. He looked promising. When he got up to go the water cooler I ran over to him and asked him how tall he was. He said 6 foot 5. Bingo. I welcomed this 6 foot 5 co-worker to the office. I then asked this 6 foot 5 co-worker if he would consider laying on top of me. I told him all the specifics of my request. He first laughed, and when I didn't laugh back he looked...confused. Confusion led to an awkward uncomfortableness. He declined my request and said that the best he could do was "friend" me on myspace. He slowly backed away looking directly at me. He didn't blink...I noticed that. He never turned around as if he didn't want to take his gaze off of me. What was he afraid of? Later I would learn that my 6 foot 5 co-worker was recently married. He was a newlywed just back from his honeymoon. I certainly would have had his bride "sign off on everything. I would have had her sign a permission slip like we had in grade school. It would have said something like:
"I (so and so) give permission for my husband (6 foot 5 co-worker) to lay on top of (me) for a period of time not to exceed 3 hours."
I would have certainly done this if it would have made the 6 foot 5 co-worker more comfortable.

I then thought maybe I could find my 6 foot 3 or taller giant on the internet. I have been searching the blogosphere for a candidate and I think this one is the perfect physical specimen I require. After reading his blog it appears he may have some bladder issues that may destroy the fantasy I am trying to create. Actually, he seems just too damn intelligent and witty. He would most certainly want to engage in conversation and that would be a big problem.

You see, I don't want my giant to talk at all. Not one word.
I just want a massive lug to mount me (non sexually).
"Shhhhhhhhh my lug......don't speak".


So now I am reaching out to you...my faithful .alt>mike readers....
If you are taller than 6 foot 3 would you consider helping a shaky, neurotic Jewish man feel more safe and secure?

Here is how I envision my homeland security giant fantasy:

You come into my bedroom (not a word....not one) and I am already laying face down with my head turned to the left so I can watch TV.
You carefully lower yourself down on me so that every part of me is under the weight of your bigness. Be gentle, I am but a mere 5 foot 11 and weigh only 168.
The rest is simple-
Just lay there.
Don't do a thing.
You may breathe as long as it is rhythmic and soothing.
After a period of time, when I decide that I feel safe and secure, you will carefully lift yourself off of me. Make sure you press down on the bed to lift up, do not press down on me. Otherwise, you may crush my piano playing hands and my mother would never forgive you.
Then collect yourself and leave.

Oh.
Just one other small item.
I hope this is not a deal breaker.

When you are laying on top of me... I would like to be watching the Tennis Channel.
Ultimately, I would like to be watching one of the Grand Slam finals....like the French Open.
Please don't ask me to explain this but it is a small touch and would mean the world to me. Thank you.

If you are interested, or if you know someone that maybe interested please leave a comment or get in touch ASAP.

This may not solve the nation's homeland security issues, but I am completely confident that having a 6 foot 3 or taller giant laying on top of me will certainly help me feel more....grounded.

.alt>reality- Hands off!

There is nothing sexy about a groin pull.
If you are looking for titillation go somewhere else.


I pulled a muscle close to my groin when I did an unintentional Mary Lou Retton-esque split on a tennis court down in Ft Lauderdale a while back. At the time it just felt like a little tug. Nothing too painful and certainly not something that prevented me from continuing to play in the tournament (though certainly something I used conveniently as an excuse for not winning any matches).
A week later back home it didn't feel any better. It was a dull constant annoying pain that just didn't go away.
Is there anything less appetizing than a Jewish man whining
"My groin hurts!"? I was losing friends right and left so I had to do something fast.
After some self diagnosing using modern medical techniques (google) I determined that I didn't have a hernia but it was indeed a strained muscle of the gluteous groineous (I made this up).


Who exactly do you go to when you have a groin pull?
My General Practitioner is like 85 years old. Call me nuts but I didn't want his cold hands giving me a feel up down there.
The only person I could trust with my groin would be my Chiropractor and good friend Dr. Brad who is like a brother to me. After all, it was yours truly who fixed him up ten years ago with another Doctor who became his hubby and life partner (and I figure by this time he has forgiven yours truly for possibly destroying his life).

On my first visit to his office, he pressed down into the injured area and made me squeal like a girl. His prescription? A number of ultrasonic therapy sessions where I would disrobe to my underwear. The process was simple enough. He would coat my groin with goo (it rubs the lotion on it's skin) and then move this metal ultras sonic thingy close to my thingy.
There was nothing sexy about this. In fact, my groin region was so tender that even this small motion was so painful I thought my pee pee was going to sink into itself and become a "mangina".

The only saving grace in this was the ever-so-brief acknowledgement by Dr. Brad about my colorful C-in2 underwear. This made my day. Don't laugh.
It's the little things that make life bearable for someone living with a groin pull.

I figured that I was good to go for at least 16 sessions of treatment. Partly because that was about how much my insurance would cover, and partly because I had only 16 pairs of self rated "Class AAA" boxer briefs and these would be the only ones I would let anyone see me in.
If treatment had to continue past 16 sessions I would have to start wearing "reruns". This would be totally out of the question. Even if I had to limp my groin-pulled ass into Bloomingdale's and pay full retail I would not be seen in the same pair of Aussie Bum's twice. It didn't matter that Doctor Brad could care less or that he was probably at this point thinking that I was a lunatic.
For me it's a pride thing.

Luckily for me therapy ended long before I was in danger of exhausting my stash of top flight trunks because Dr. Brad is that good of a Chiropractor.

Gosh get me talking about underwear and get completely off the subject.
Where was I? Oh yeah, I was talking about my groin pull.
Groin pulls suck, really they do.
I could go on and on about the major inconveniences you face with little everyday tasks like getting in and out of a car and going up and down a flight of stairs blah, blah, blah but why bore you to tears?

However.

Just in case you are wondering whether or not I was able to enjoy myself at all during this God awful groin pull experience the answer is a (not-so) BIG FAT NO!

Which just goes to show you.

Not every touching story has a happy ending.

My inalienable right to win- Part 2

My tournament- the revelation.

Wow it felt good to win. I really got emotional and all I did was win a couple of matches. Made it worth every difficult step it took to get to where I was in those glorious moments. Up until this weekend I never quite understood what others have told me about competing in tennis- Regardless of skill and ability, you have to allow yourself to win. You must deem yourself worthy of winning.

What exactly did that mean? Who wouldn't be open to the idea of winning? Who wouldn't allow themselves to experience that exhilarating feeling? Sounds destructive.
Looking back it makes total sense now.

Until recently, I found myself doling out a batch of excuses I have used all too well to my disadvantage in this game-
I only started playing this sport two years ago and prior to that I had never picked up a racquet.
I am 47 years old.
Most of the guys I play are much younger and have played since they were children.
Did I mention that I am prone to tendinitis?
Or that I have adult A.D.D?
Oh and I can't serve into the sun because my eyes are super sensitive to light.

Hiding behind the shadow of a "cop out" made it far too easy to avoid exercising my inalienable right to win.

Until recently I had set up most of my practice matches exclusively with players much better than me. This made losing more comfortable. After all, it was unrealistic to think that I could win against these players and sure enough I lost ever single time. Playing with those who possess a greater skill level has its advantages, but these last couple of weeks I have found it much more challenging and ultimately more fulfilling to play matches with those at my level.

Imagine that?
Me...setting up unrealistic expectations.
Me....Avoiding those that might be considered challenging and my equal.

Have I been open to the idea of winning?
Am I open to to the idea of winning?

I think I enjoy tennis so much because the lessons learned on the court help me with what I need to work on off the court.

It is far less painful to set yourself up to lose than to allow yourself to go through the agonizing process of trying to win.

And so it is in tennis...
and other more important games.

My inalienable right to win- Part 1

NO I did not win the championship. Not even close.
But, I did win matches.

The tournament- the fun stuff

This was the 4th GLTA tournament I have played in my life, and the second playing in the "C" division. I won my first two tournament matches ever- singles in two sets 6-3, 6-4. and doubles 6-3, 3-6, 10-7 tiebreaker. This was a huge improvement over my play just weeks ago at the Clay Court Classic in Fort Lauderdale which at the time inspired me to write this.
Also important-
I looked good. No let me emphasize I looked real good. I strutted into the tennis facility with the cool confidence of a pro wearing my Adidas outfit from head to toe. I could almost hear my imaginary handlers yelling,
"No pictures! PLEASE, no pictures!".

Here are the funniest moments/highlights of the weekend for me-

• It seems everyone who plays tennis in the GLTA is named Michael.
• My Doubles partner (Michael) is the quietest, nicest guy - and from what I learned this weekend, apparently very strong. We have been playing together for a couple of months now and we are a pretty good combination. I am a little crazy, he is a little dry, and we are both lefties which has the potential of driving our opponents nuts. Anyway, when we won our doubles match which was my first win....I was so taken with the moment that I ran to him and jumped into his arms, wrapped my legs around him right there on the court. I couldn't help myself I was so happy. I wouldn't let go and he actually walked me over to the net where I shook the hands of the guys we beat while he was holding me up. I laid my head on his shoulder and he had no choice other than to walk me off the court. His deadpan response? "Hmmmm...that was different."
• After that I went into the locker room to get ready for my singles match I ran into another Adidas clothing whore (Michael) from Virginia. He looked at what I was wearing and said "Well, I tried on that outfit you are wearing but I kind of thought the coordinating stripes on the shirt and shorts were just too much." I couldn't help myself and fired back "Yes, I can see why you had second thoughts. You really need to be slim and athletic in order to make this outfit work." Bitchy, I know.
• Day two was a much cooler weather wise. I decided to wear UnderArmour instead of Adidas because the fabric is thicker and warmer. Surely no one would notice. Wrong! On a changeover in between games during one of my matches, a cute player from Toronto (Michael) who was watching me yelled out "Hey you're not wearing Adidas! Aren't you going to lose your endorsement?" I guess he had been keeping up with my blog. Who knew I had loyal readers a loyal reader in Canada?
• It is hysterical concept that you only want to rip the eyes out of your opponent as you are playing them until they happen to beat you. Then, all of a sudden you become their biggest cheerleader and want them to go all the way and win the championship so you can feel better about losing to them.
  
• I was really touched that sexy actorschmactor wrote an adorable little blog entry wishing me luck. He actually came out with the hopes of seeing me play on day two....even though he was a little late to the party and I had already lost. But, it is the thought that counts and I really appreciate all the nice comments and well wishes from him and everyone else.

Next post- The revelation.

.alt>fashion- Adidas will be endorsing me

In my dreams.
However, I will wearing Adidas products from head to toe when I play in my tournament this coming weekend. One thing I learned at the Sony Ericsson Open last week in Miami is that Adidas is the shit! They sponsor most of the hot players (including Novak Djokovic the men's champion) and they absolutely blow Nike and everyone else out of the water. I cannot believe how hideous the new Nike tennis fashions are.

Anyway just in case you were interested I wanted to show you what I will be competing in. Most who witness my tennis game might say that I should concentrate more on my serve instead of the color of my shorts. But then again they probably haven't read this.
Even if I can't get the ball over the net I will be stylin' and smilin' because I will be wearing the "Response Line" inspired by Andre Agassi. It is so "me"- a somewhat mature look (but not without flair). So what do you think? You like????
I can't stand collared shirts. Frankly I would prefer to play sleeveless or shirtless to show off these. But since this is a tournament, as a compromise I will wear a tee shirt. I thought that this shirt was just a bit classier than most everything out there. It is black with a white and lavender stripe down the front and the Adidas signature 3 stripe bar on the sleeves.

The shorts coordinate as you can see (can you see the stripes on the bottom corner of the shorts? Pretty cool, huh?), and I have to tell you the stripes on the front of the shorts and the shirt look pretty dapper when you put the two on together.
For day 2 of the tourney I will be wearing the same exact outfit....only in white- with black and lavender stripes.
The sneakers are one of styles of the Adidas Barracades. Kind of strange but I am going with navy blue/white sneaks which I picked up at the Adidas outlet here in Orlando even though black would be the obvious choice. The navy in the shoes is kind of between the black and lavender in the shirt and I really like the way it looks. Black would be just too predictable and I certainly don't want this to look like a uniform! Sidenote: Adidas.com could not guarentee that the black barracades would arrive prior to my tournament so all of a sudden the dark blue ones looked great.

For my cap and wristbands I am going with the .alt>ernative Adidas stripe pattern.... looks like a pyramid. Why? Because I am .alt>mike! I have every Adidas style of socks known to mankind and I am not sure which ones I will end of wearing but they will be of the low ankle variety like these as opposed to the higher which I just don't like the feel and the marks they leave on your legs after your match and you put on your flip flops...

OK I will shut up now....the Monday Mashup will be up in a little while and you will see what happens when Aerosmith gets promiscuous.

.alt>mike midweek rant! Razor Blades

I cannot believe how much money I am spending on razor blades. Why isn't there a revolt? I wake up each morning hoping that some hairy bear somewhere has put together a boycott asking us to forgo shaving for a month to display our disapproval over the price of these absurd items. Twelve Mach 3 blades cost me $22.99. Insanity. Each blade is only good on my heavy beard for two shaves before I have to replace.
And this whole business of multiple blades. Can you even find a package of single blade cartridges anywhere? I don't know about you but as a "manscaper" I find it a bit "edgy" using 3 blades...down....there.
If you happen to be the one guy that is still shaving with a single edge let me offer you a simple piece of advice. Don't start experimenting with multiple edges like the Mach 3 or the Quattro. If you do you will never come back. Single edges will just not "cut it" anymore.
Basically, something happens to your beard and it becomes spoiled and demanding- resistant to anything but multiple sharp edged expensive blades.
As for the razor companies it's really just Gillette and Schick. Damn them. So close to a monopoly. Not fair. They control the pricing and we follow like sheep. Shouldn't there be price control guidelines for products we have to use every day? Stamps? Starbucks? Razors?
When Gillette has a new product they usually send suckers like me a sample razor in the mail and like a moron I try it out. A month ago I got this ridiculous "Fusion" blade sample that has a total of 6 sharp edges (5 on the blade plus a sixth side burn trimmer).
How exactly would you explain to aliens from another planet that you use a 5 bladed razor on your face?
It sounds stupid just typing it out.
Well of course the experience of using this blade has made my beard "immune" to all other razors that have come before it. I cannot get a close shave with anything other than the Fusion. I jumped from 3 edges to 5 edges....my beard actually "leapfrogged" over the Quattro (4 edges).
I don't think my beard likes even numbers.
The cost per Fusion blade is something like $3.50. Crazy!

I am sad to say that I have a feeling it will only get worse.
Where exactly will we be a year from now? 8 edges that will actually remove 3 layers of your skin when you shave?
Listen up Gillette, I got the name-

The "Ouch-o".

ta da. the new banner

I don't even want to tell you what I had to do to get this banner.
I feel like a .... Well, lets just say I feel dirty.

playing with myself

Ok so I am changing some things around here.. pictures, banner, concepts, headings etc....
Honestly I am not sure what I am doing. I was all jazzed about my new banner until multiple people brought to my attention that it looked like dueling butt plugs. Great. It will be gone soon is gone! Now replaced with something "art-sy" and fabulous meme!. But just for kicks take a look at that (former) banner and tell me if you think it is a mirror image.....or not. :)

I got a cold in my doze

Today I had a cold so I stayed at home by myself crawled up on the couch wallowing away in self pity immersed in flannel, fuzzy slippers downing Too jays chicken noodle soup by the pint while watching the vh1 marathon countdown of the "100 most shocking moments in rock and roll"(#75 was Carnie Wilson's stomach staple operation which she had broadcast live on the Internet) .

My friend called me and said my voice was so hoarse I sounded like the love child of Harvey Fierstein and the once tampon laden Brenda Vaccaro.

The thing that pisses me off about the common cold experience is how we actually sabotage ourselves with the medications we take. For example, you take pills because your nose is runny, runny, runny, runny, runny and then BAM!!!! All of a sudden you are completely stuffed up. Stuffy probably because you were taking pills to dry the runny-ness and they did too good of a job. Basically, you have helped the cold morph into something else just when you were starting to get the hang of it!

Earlier today my runny-ness turned stuffy so feeling like a total slug I decided to go out to get a different set of cold pills. Upon coming face to face with the Walgreen's "Cold Remedy Wall" I was overwhelmed. So many brands to choose from. While every year there are new concoctions on the shelves (Airborne, Mucinex), it seems the old "workhorses" (Benadryl, Comtrex, Dristan) never die. Who the hell takes Dristan? I think they should set up a "spy cam" or something in Walgreen's to see if ANYONE ever buys Dristan.
And now every pain reliever has jumped on the cold medication bandwagon. There's Aleve Cold and Sinus, Advil Allergy Relief...etc. I think of taking Advil when I sprain my ankle, NOT when my nose is runny. It's hard to imagine that one brand of pill can cure multiple illnesses. To me these brands are just greedy. What's next...Advil Diarrhea Relief?
I feel like shaking Advil and saying, "Stay in your own area! Stick to what you are good at!".


Then there is the whole drowsy or non- drowsy thing.
Sometimes I just have enough time to take....a nap. In this instance should I take just half of a drowsy pill? Or should I mix a drowsy pill with a non drowsy pill and hope for the best?
Honestly does anyone really believe that 12 hour medication has ANY effect after 8 hours?
If I take a decongestant does that mean that my phlegm-y stuff is going to loosen up and my nose is going to run even more?
If I have some Benadryl allergy relief medication left over from hay fever season can I use that for my cold? Is it the same as the cold medication?
Does a caplet work better than a gel cap?
What happens if I don't have a sore throat but I only have medication that includes sore throat relief? Will I be over medicating?
Does anyone ever use generic cold relief medication?
If a product called "Wal-dryl" has the same ingredients as "Benadryl" why would it work as well and cost 30% less? If I take the generic am I am going to feel 30% less better?

I ended up buying Benadryl D nighttime cold relief. Who knows if this stuff is going to work.
However, it's a sure bet that the half pint of Ben and Jerry's Cookie Dough Ice Cream purchased on my way home will work its magic and make me feel a whole lot better.

How do I look?

I was trying to get it together this morning to play tennis and failing miserably. It is amazing that no matter how much time I give myself I always end up running late.
But I digress.
Rushing to get dressed I quickly threw on my shorts, tank top, wrist bands, grabbed my tennis bag and headed to the door. I passed by a mirror, caught a quick glance and thought-

"How do I look?"

Hmmmmmmm.......not bad. But.
Nope. The shorts won't do. Wrong color. I need navy blue instead of white so they coordinate with my wrist bands.

You would think my tennis game would be better given my attention to fashion details.
Who cares! Nobody!

Nobody but me.

I wondered to myself, "I am not going to stop to change my shorts now...am I?. Seriously. Am I out of my mind? My friends are going to be PISSED."
The choices I make are insane. I drop my bag and run back to my bedroom closet to search for the all important navy blue shorts.

At that moment a memory hits me like a tidal wave.

It was 1973. I was thirteen years old. A particularly snowy month of March on Long Island. Weather wise, my birthday was the worst. Over a foot of snow accumulated in less than six hours. When it finally slowed down my Mom summoned my brothers and myself downstairs to go outside and shovel the walkway in front of our house. Whereas my brothers quickly put on their gear and headed out to shovel and frolic, I, on the other hand, took my time getting dressed.
Thinking to myself, "Where are my brown wool gloves...the ones that match my parka?
And scarf? Some color perhaps... neon blue.
No...red works better".
Meticulously putting together the perfect outfit for an active snowy day.
Time must have flown by as I primped and prepped. So entrenched in what I was doing, I hardly noticed my Mother standing in my mirror's reflection. I spun around like a top.

"How do I look?"

My Mom squinted some and said,
"How do you look?
HOW DO YOU LOOK?

WHO CARES HOW YOU LOOK!
GET OUT THERE AND START SHOVELING!"

On that note I ran like mad outside to find my brothers had just about completed the task at hand. Before I could say a word I was pummeled with a barrage of snowballs. "Happy Birthday to ya!!! HA HA" (Typical brother stuff no harm intended and kind of sweet sentiment actually...in their own way).

34 years later.
Today.
My tennis outfit.

I guess where I found myself this morning is at a place where I am able to appreciate all the parts that make up the whole of me. It has not always been this way in my life. Miraculously, that little boy in his parka and coordinated scarf appears to have survived through many changes in me and around me.
Could I have told this story ten years ago? Probably not. I certainly couldn't embrace it as I do today.

For me, it's a strange little revelation. Maybe not so little.

On my 47th birthday the greatest gift is that I have yet to become too wise, worldly, jaded or old to be able to pose a simple question.

"How do I look?"

Fresh Flowers

Sometimes I am concerned about my lack of emotions.

I had a party this last Sunday....I got bunches of fresh flowers which everyone said looked great. My first reaction was "damn when these things start wilting my house is going to be a mess....all the buds and such falling off and getting all over the place."

Am I just practical...or cold hearted?

I certainly appreciate the jesture of my friends and I love them but that was my first reaction and now I feel guilty.

On the other hand, I have no such issues accepting bottles of wine and vodka as house warming gifts.....