This really has nothing to do with anything

Everything in life is more interesting when cast in a hero/villain context. Sometimes when stuck in traffic, I’ll pick out two cars near me, dubbing one as hero, the other enemy. It gives me great satisfaction when HeroCar vanquishes VillainMobile, particularly if VillainMobile was trying to game the system but weaving in and out of rush hour traffic. Incidentally, there’s no way to get branded in that role more quickly, it’s a pretentious act that indicates you feel your time is more important than the rest of us. “Traffic? Unacceptable! I’ve got 4 episodes of Mad Men on DVR that I need to get home and watch!”

I bring this up because I can’t decide who is the villain in the NBA Finals. The easy answer is the Heat, given that they employ the guy who gave a double-middle-finger salute to an entire city of adoring fans a couple years ago. But when you think about it, how is that better than an entire franchise giving that same gesture to an entire city? Perhaps it’s just the jilted North Stars fan in me remembering the North Stars leaving town with a talent, young nucleus and going on to win the Stanley Cup in short order, but I’m having trouble throwing my weight behind Oklahoma City.

Getting to watch Kevin Durant for one year was the cruelest thing that could’ve happened to the people of Seattle. If he’d shown up the first season after the move, it would’ve just been like hearing about some unworthy douchebag from high school who won the lottery and married a knockout. Instead it’s like your girlfriend dumped you, moved in with the guy next door, and they leave the curtains open when they have sex. At some point I’ll get over this, but it’s too soon, my 12-year old self is insisting I stand in solidarity with my fellow orphaned fans.

On a completely unrelated (and decidedly more personal) note, I inadvertently spit on someone the other day.

Fortunately it wasn’t a stranger, just a friend who happened to say something funny right after I took a sip of beer. Accidentally spitting while talking (spalking) is just one of those things that happens once in awhile when you’re brain can’t process the three commands of drink/laugh/talk as discrete events. Unfortunately, there’s a lot of ways that can go down, a whole spitting-while-drinking continuum, or Spit-In-Uum, if you will. It goes from a single tiny droplet of spittle, small enough as to only be visible when passing through a ray of sunshine, to a full on carwash-with-the-windows-open sort of effect. This was closer to the latter. Not the worst I’ve ever done, but definitely not something that went unnoticed.

The odd thing about the Spit-In-Uum is, the more egregious the incident, the less likely you are to bring it up. Watching a microscopic fleck exit my mouth in the general direction of someone a half-acre away immediately sends me into a profuse “Oh, I’m sorry, did I just spit on you? Heavens to Betsy” sort of apology, even though 9 times out of 10 the at-risk party has no idea how close they came to being violated by a micro-loogie. On the other hand, foaming at them like a geyser-meets-Ocean Spray commercial inspires an “Oh geez! Maybe they didn’t notice?!?!” silence that’s more awkward than the first time your junior high football coach told you to “Get in there and give Jimmy a blow”. Needless to say, he was not speaking literally…resisting the urge to make a Jerry Sandusky joke.

Before I go any further with this line of thinking, I want to disabuse you of any notions along the lines of “starting to get some insight into this fellow’s lack of success on the dating scene”. I’m not walking around spraying reams of saliva in every direction, not channeling Daffy Duck or anything over here. (There is a nasty allegation of a drooling incident a few years back, which I flatly deny) It simply happens that through years of accumulated conversation and drinking, you’re going to have a few of these incidents. You may not have had enough to require pondering the subject on these levels, but I like to talk a lot, and it’s usually while drinking, spit happens, get over it.

To go A-to-B-to-C on this conversation, the direct correlation between cubic centimeters of spittle loosed and reluctance to call attention to it made me consider how this played out on other bodily mishaps. When a small French horn fart is loosed in mixed company, it can be laughed at and played off; it’s more tuba-like cousin however cannot. Some things are an exception, like bleeding on stuff. The more blood you lose, the more you want to call attention to it. Unless of course you were doing something stupid that you were warned against. In that case you’d want to patch it up, get to the hospital and try to blame any collateral damage on “the dog getting into something”. Particularly if you’ve bled on something important. Tis always better to risk life and limb than handing someone an “I-told-you-so” moment they can lord over you.

Shots to the nuts fall right in line with the general rule, you really would rather not have them brought up. Again, particularly if you were doing something highly questionable immediately prior. The rarer cousin of the spit problem, is the inadvertent nasal projectile, of which there are two classes: Bat-In-Cave and Snot Rocket. In the most egregious Bat-In-Cave scenario, etiquette requires a subtle pointing out of the problem, likely featuring the words “you’ve got a little something”, similar to when someone has lettuce in their teeth. The Snot Rocket is just one that should never be acknowledged, period. If you’re ever witness to one of these sad occurrences, have the human empathy to act as if you didn’t see it. Give the person a chance to salvage some of their dignity, lest they be scarred for life. They’re perfectly aware they just blew a snot on their shirt, and are just feverishly hoping you didn’t, even though it’s tough to miss.

So, if I had to rank these types of items, based on level of embarrassment, I’d do so as follows:

(All are assumed to have occurred under the worst case scenario, e.g. first date or job interview. If you’re hanging out with your friends, or spouse, all bets are off.)

1. Urinating anywhere other than outdoors or in the intended receptacle – Ahhh, college.

2. The Snot Rocket – Extremely rare, just as deadly, an argument for not cropping nose hairs too closely.

3. High level spalk – If occurring outdoors, attempt to play off on passing shower. If occurring indoors, ignore and fake slight cough, as if something’s caught in your throat, tough to blame a choking victim.

4. Any injury involving burns, breaks or bleeding (non-life threatening of course) that occurs through a voluntary activity with no real point – Usually preceeded by the phrase “Hey, check this out!”

5. A shot to the nuts under the conditions listed above – Who knew that testing out the 20 year old pogo stick you dug out of the garage could have negative consequences?

6. Bat-In-Cave - Happens to the best of us.

7. Low level spalk – Can actually be turned into a positive by making a self-deprecating joke. Look how confident and self-aware you are, you sly devil.

Yup, this is the kind of stuff I end up pondering when I spend a week trying to stay out of bars.

Happy Friday.