Billz Classics: I did it my way.

I return today with another edition of the ever self-indulgent "Billz Classics."  But first, a disturbing news item which was submitted to me by a friend.  It seems that in the Philippines, where karaoke is an unaccountably popular pastime, people are really killing 'em with the Frank Sinatra classic "My Way."  Or to be more accurate, people are being killed for performing the song.  Gives new meaning to a rough crowd.  Damn it, Philippines, did the Chairman of the Board teach you nothing?  The good life, full of fun, seems to be the ideal.  Yes, the good life lets you hide all the sadness you feel.  It does not, however, give you license to hack someone with a machete because they suck at crooning.  Incidentally, Frank hated "My Way."

Now for the "classic" blog entry, which was written on November 1, 2006 under the title "Whosoever shall be found without the soul for getting down..."


Last night, I went to a Halloween party at a co-worker's place.  But first, I had to go to a fancy schmancy cocktail party for work.  The organization that I work for has a magazine which they put out each quarter.  Every year, one of the trustees throws a party at his swanky apartment to celebrate the release of the fall edition.  And when I say swanky, I mean swanky.  I met a guy who used to be the mayor of a major city in New Jersey.  The apartment was on the East River and had a perfect view over into my neighborhood in Queens.  The owner has one of the foremost collections of privately held Asian art in the world.  I got a chance to meet him, and he proudly showed me a statue he owns from the 7th century Tang Dynasty.  My first thought was of Indiana Jones saying "This belongs in a museum".  In fact, my boss later told me that this guy outbid several museums to own the piece.  Finders, keepers, I guess.  But I am pretty sure that most people don't have a "gallery" in their apartment.  Also, Henry Kissinger and Walter Cronkite live in the same building.

After caviar and champagne at the cocktail party, I shifted to cheap beer and Halloween candy at my co-workers place.  Quite the study in contrast.  I had planned to go as Clark Kent.  I bought a Superman t-shirt to wear under my suit (which I was already wearing for work) and a fedora hat.  I made a fake press pass to pin to my hat, and I wore my extra pair of glasses which have a 1960's Malcom X style look to them.  And I had the requisite reporter's steno notebook.  Sadly, I lost my Superman shirt in the cab ride over.  So I kind of just looked like a 1960's era reporter.  I did learn that 37 year old men can still play beer pong (and beat me by a narrow margin), which was heartening.  I guess I will never have to grow up if I don't want to.  My co-worker lives in the Village, so I enjoyed the tail end of the Halloween Parade.  Lots of outrageous costumes.

Things picked up a little at work today.  My boss had me do some writing for her which I generally prefer to pitching stories to members of the press.  Everyone seemed happy with the results of my writing, and the Vice President here half jokingly said that I should trade up and come to work for him.

Bonus information about the fedora:  I love the old pictures of business men  who would wear one to work everyday.  They would have one to match each suit they owned.  Also, Frank and the rest of the Rat Pack always seemed to rock the fedora.  But sadly, unless you are Usher (or to a lesser extent, Alicia Keys), you can't really get away with that look today.  I bought mine at Lids, the place that sells baseball hats in every mall in America.  My mom says that I just dressed as Clark Kent so that I'd have an excuse to buy one.  I'm not sure how true that is, as I'd look like a jackass wearing it for any purpose other than physical comedy.  One of my co-workers at the party said that I could get away with wearing it more often, and that they are coming back in style.  I explained to her that style for me and style for world class douche Kevin Federline are not the same thing. 

Commentary:  First of all note the title, which pays homage to Michael Jackson, the King of Pop.  I would be highly remiss if I did not say OMG!1!!1! RIP M.J.  U R Always in my heart dawg@!!1!11  The United Nations has thus far ignored my proposal to call in independent observers to ensure a safe transition to a new monarch of pop, but I remain hopeful.

Oh by the way, how are things going at work, Billz of 2006?  You mentioned that they had picked up a bit.  Moot point!  You're going to get laid off in a few years and wind up working for the vice president you mentioned after he leaves to form his own consulting firm.  So take that, Billz of 2006!  Also, I know you can't believe this now, but you will soon inhabit a world where Brittney Spears comes across as less responsible than Kevin Federline. Also, you will own several fedoras in the near future.  Your instinct on the "jackass" thing was possibly correct.