Ode To My Cell Phone From The Future

Dear 2006 flip phone,

I would like to take this moment to thank you for being so overwhelmingly sleek and trendy while always being at the heart of laughter when you surface from my pocket.

You are a rare gem of cutting edge technology that can only be rivaled by a universal remote, since it serves humanity with distinction. You expanded your jurisdiction to control features that the mind is still incapable of grasping, like texting, taking photos, and constantly searching for a faint signal.

Your sexiness simply astounds me. When I am beginning a conversation and ending one, everyone knows since you make a loud clicking sound and slam shut with the integrity of a brick. Many times I have been with you, in public, proud to show the world the latest and greatest in technology, and people stare in disbelief. I'm pretty sure I am the only person in the world with a phone like you.


You are a smart phone, by the classic definition, not for 3G purposes. Your flashlight application has saved my neck many times in the dark. I still can't believe that you come equipped with a calculator and a two hour battery life!

You bring joy to my conversations. You are timeless. You are even my timepiece. I would wear you on my wrist if it wasn't illegal. (You have not even been released to the public yet). People call me, simply to tell their friends that they had the pleasure of talking to someone with a flip phone, and sure, it hurts my feelings when they call only to do this, but I understand the consequences of being the owner of such an amazing cell phone.

You are the only phone I have ever come in contact with that uses a puppy whimper ring tone when you are set to vibrate. Not because you came in contact with water or anything, but because there's nothing that suggests a subtle alert like a puppy crying.

Zack Morris endorsed you years ago, because he too came in contact with the phone from the future. Blackberries cringe in terror at your very sight and secede to defeat. They simply can not compete with you, flip phone. It is said that when iPhones are in your company, they keel over and die, effectively becoming bricks because your wavelength is overbearing. I will never forget that time I made that universal phone call to the Bulgaria and I carried a conversation with someone in a ruinous apartment, underground and hundreds of miles from a cell tower.

The best thing about you, flip phone from 2006 though, is that when I sit on you, you don't dial dolphin ninjas from outer space. I hate when that happens.

Sincerely,

JJ

Deep Thoughts About the Deep South

After going on a completely spontaneous road trip through Mississippi, it's only fitting that I consider how Christopher Walken's experience might have been had he been there alongside me. It was a trip without purpose or a destination. It made little sense, but a schizophrenic could easily map it all out.

Conversation Along the Way

Christopher Walken: Mississippi feels like the very first conversation I've ever had. The first time I ever had a real conversation with a woman was in college. I had chatted with girls all through high school. I had exchanged some ideas, but never a full conversation. Then I met Heidi and we started chatting on and off, which was really beneficial and detached.

One thing led to another, and before I knew it, I was having my very first conversation. We had quite a few conversations after that, although at first I was insecure about my ability to converse. But then it came naturally to me and I was lasting longer during conversation. I was finally able to satisfy girls' desires to have conversations when I gently stroked serious subject matter with a soft touch. I knew all the right things to talk about to drive a girl crazy. I became a fiend for it. I was enjoying an amazing variety of conversational topics, so I didn't care. And I started conversing with other girls. And then Heidi wished she had never talked to me after that.

Ever since then, it's been short meaningless conversation after the other. And that's what Mississippi is like. A conversation with a beautiful woman who wants you to commit and stay. Don't just drive through. I want to continue this conversation JJ.

Me: Wow. That's quite the analogy. By conversation you're referring to something else, right?

Christopher Walken: No. What else would I possibly be referring to? So anyways, did you know that the question mark is originally from an Egyptian hieroglyph that represents a cat walking away? It's the tail, you know. And that symbol means — well, whatever it is when they're ignoring you. You completely ignored me during our conversation.

Me: Sorry. I was listening, but just didn't catch what you were saying.

Bubble Gum and Fried Chicken

Christopher Walken: You know, I love Mississippi. The people are nice. And they chew bubble gum religiously. I respect that. It means they have something to chew on. It also means they are not sinister and this is because of the gum. I have perfected the art of the bad guy in film and I have never entertained chewing bubble gum because it would devastate any chance I had making you crap your pants in terror.

Me: You always chew gum though.

Christopher Walken: Yes, but are you attempting to make a valid point?

Me: Nope.

Christopher Walken: And this fried chicken thing. I feel if Mark Twain were alive, he'd write a memoir about how overrated it is, since everything in the south is fried. I could tap-dance with any plate of food in the south. But don' tell me something is fact. I take an active disinterest in facts. Chicken Fried Steak is actually beef. This is not a fact. It really depends on how you say it, whether comically, tragically, and in every conceivable ethnic accent. I am terribly tempted to club a baby seal and deep fry it.

Bible Belt and Pants

Christopher Walken: I like suspenders. But being in the bible belt here in the south makes me feel like letting loose and letting my trousers hang down to my ankles.

Me: Why are you taking your pants off in the car?

Christopher Walken: Son, just trust the process. It's not healthy to always wear a belt. Or question your elders for that matter. Sometimes you have to just let loose. Even the Bible belt region. Unbutton the top button, unzip your pants. Have fun. Ahh! Much better. This is what I love about the south.

Me: Can you put your pants back on?

::Christopher Walken blankly stares at me in response to my request, without the slightest hesitation, and he fixes his gaze at me in disgust. He continues this for the next three hours without flinching or looking away::

Likely Responses To Unlikely Questions

::The following are scenarios that are loosely based on fact::

Infamous Excuses

Question:"Hey, JJ, you didn't come out yesterday. It was fun. What were you doing instead? Watching reruns of 90210?"

Answer:Yes, actually. I was. I was also filing my finger nails, eating Luna bars, writing in my journal, counting calories, scheduling months in advance, shopping for tampons online, and sewing an elaborate quilt adorned with the face of Luke Perry.

Bad Impersonations

A Doctor: Snap! You may have developed skin cancer.

Me: You want to talk to the Macho Man about his skin? Brother, you want to tell the Macho Man that the years of tanning and oiling his body so that each muscle would glisten under the arena light has made him an excellent candidate for skin cancer? The Macho Man has discovered the cure for cancer, and it is being 100 percent macho all the time. And SNAP INTO A SLIM JIM! OH-YEAH!

I Swear That Was You

Question: Were you on the back seat of another man's motorcycle the other day? I know it was you JJ.

Answer: Impossible. Unless there are three dudes on a motorbike, or it's a pink scooter with little room for dignity, then it likely wasn't me. Oh - are you sure it wasn't me riding a tandem bike with one of my dudebros? That's simply how hambros roll, brah!

Making A Statement As A Sandwich Artist

Question: Oh - I see. So you're like a starving artist now?

Me: Negative amigo. First of all I work in Subway. Second, this work of mine is called Sunset, though any sense of peacefulness that it conveys is ironic. I think I’ve made it obvious that the rows of roast beef are a satirical comment. The splash of honey mustard between the lettuce and meats explores that middle ground where cosmic destiny and human will collide. I’ve been trying to push myself with new textures and colors. I love the way the meat has a sort of iridescence that dances across its surface like the dusk-red sun atop the stippled sea.

O.C.D. On The Road

Beautiful Girl: It's so fun riding with you in your car JJ!

Me: Get your dirty paws and feet off my dashboard you damn ape or get out of my car.

Being That Guy

Question: Yo, JJ, Why you illin' B?

Me: I feel fine. My temperature is at a healthy 98.6 degrees and I exercise regularly, thank you very much. I suspect your discomfort with me stems from the fact that I am the only white guy in your rap group. Geez K-Pain, relax. Care to play hop-scotch?

Who You Gonna Call

Question: JJ, so who are you gonna drunk dial?

Me: Church. I'm going to drunk dial a church. And I'll ask if they have any peanut butter chicken with mustard bean pie. Do you think nuns answer? I think nuns secretly operate 1-900 numbers. This is the best idea I've ever had!

Washing Away The Guilt

Question: Dude, is that David Hasselhoff over there?

Me: It is. This is the happiest moment of my life. I'm going in closer to touch him.

::I'm taking a massively mini vacation to the deep south, but I'll try to update this blog on the road::

Anything Less Would Be Uncivilized

I yawn at the prospect of gracing celebrities with my presence. But at times, I look to the gentle authority of social convention, consideration for others, and simple good manners.

That's why I chose to honor mega filmmaker, Richard Linklater's request to visit my house Monday. Why did he want to come you ask? Fine question. He may or may not be interested in passing scores of money from his lucrative account, into mine. I wish I had a more direct answer for you, but I do not.



During his brief, yet time well-spent stay, we discussed business. I do not like talking business, especially with those who have agendas to turn my living space into a giant movie production. But his vernacular was well-seasoned, as if he had made such proposals before.

And then he made his way to my DVD collection, (two of which were films he directed; Dazed and Confused and Slacker). He then followed with a series of comments pertaining to my refined taste in film. All of which were flanked by the fact I knew who he was, and he was flattered. I then invited him to compliment my taste in film, art, and photography.

"Yes, only the best," I said. "Those photos. I took them."

He was so impressed that this information warranted no response, and he paid little attention as the subject matter changed. He became more interested in what I do in life.

Richard Linklater: So JJ, what do you do?

::His production manager interrupts to say he's seen me on TV at News 8.

Me: Yes. He speaks the truth. But anyways ... I used to make a fool of myself on TV. Nothing to write home about.

Richard Linkalter: Interesting.

And I am impressed with my ability to accompany a celebrity and not try to steal their thunder when taking a photograph. Because I have a bad habit of doing so. The picture below is Quentin Tarantino, and note how I'm informing him to look at the camera, as if he's never come across a camera before and was ill-informed on how to react.

Q&A with the Least Interesting Man in the World

::In the spirit of fairness, the Most Interesting Man in the World sits down with the Los Angeles Lakers forward Pao Gasol for a brief Q&A about being disturbingly lame::



The Most Interesting Man: Are you allowed to carry credit cards, Pao?

The Least Interesting Man: Yes, because my personality is not a fraction as magnetic as yours is.

The Most Interesting Man: My friend, your beard. It intrigues me, not in a good way either. What have you achieved with your beard?

The Least Interesting Man: Um, I once caught Kobe's sweat with it when I was following up a rebound.

The Most Interesting Man: When you're not rollerblading, what are you doing with your life?

The Least Interesting Man: Probably studying other, more interesting men, like Mutombo and Pauly Shore.

Most Interesting Man: You disgrace me. You and your Los Angeles Lakers team. I can not continue this interview with you. You're equipped with the intellect of a little pancake. You're a mistake of evolution. Watching you makes my eyes go blind with mustard.

Least Interesting Man: I'm sorry. I am an accurate basketball player though.

Most Interesting Man: What does that even mean? Are you a blow dart expert? For accuracy, there is no better measure. Gifted operation of a blow dart can knock out a raging sumo wrestler charging you or ever so slightly blow-dry the matted hair of a waterlogged baby bird.

Least Interesting Man: Slap me in the face. I would be honored and I will have something to tell my grandchildren.



Most Interesting Man: Gladly. I look forward to watching your team suffer from the more manly team in red.