Why you should drink espresso.

My trip to the coffee store this morning proved inspirational to the following list while I drove to work.

1. It's cheaper than a venti non-fat mochachino with a shot of caramel... a double espresso is always less than three bucks. Save two dollars a morning times three mornings a week times one year and you could buy this.
2. It's what you want... you drink coffee for the caffiene. Anything added is fluff.
3. You get to be a purist. No greater way to start the day than a knowing smile from a barista, the third hardest group of people to impress (after IRS Agents and prospective mothers-in-law).
4. It's more consistent. Every pour of espresso is certainly different but when you add the barista, three other ingredients, and the morning rush to your coffee who knows what your going to end up with in the cup. First thing in the morning is not the time for surprises.
5. It's faster. During rush, baristas tend to have every espresso machine pouring at any given time its possible. If all they have to do is pour yours in a cup, you'll usually be in your car by the time the two guys before you get their coffee.
6. It's cleaner. Ever drop a venti mocha valencia in your car? My five year old could carry the 2 to 4 ounces of liquid in that espresso container on a roller coaster and not spill it.
7. It's healthier. Its the drink you get now, minus the sugar and fat.

The Art of White.

Todd White is a painter that lives in southern California, but he's originally from Texas. His pieces concentrate on musicians, revelers, and women. I was first introduced to him by a print in a store that looked exactly like a good friend of mine... beautiful and feisty. The picture below is called Dibbs. Between the suit, the hair, and the tumbler it was easy to find myself in the painting.




Again... a bit of likeness.



For me White captures the scenes that I want to see exist... Parties where women sip wine in strapless evening gowns and men dress more like the characters of Ocean's 11 than Dodgeball.

Things my ex-girlfriends taught me.

1. All of your clothes are too big.
2. She's dirtier (read more sexually adventurous) than you are... no really.
3. Tell anyone about the previous statement and you will never benefit from its truthfulness again.
4. When life gets tough first... shut up... second... hold her. Repeat until the tears stop.
5. Similarities between she and her mother should be noticed but never discussed.
6. The fact that the rules change every day when she wakes up pisses her off just as much as it does you.
7. Always take a jacket to the movie theater... always.
8. At special events coordinate with what she's wearing... because basically... you're a purse.
9. Always compliment her shoes.
10. Winning the battle usually costs you the war.


Someday soon I'm going to follow up this post with a list of all the things my wife has taught me... Right now I'm on number 457.

The Pastoral Urbanite

Rock and roll is ultimately a pose. And despite the fact that at some point in the history of what is called punk, "poseur" was about the worst thing anyone could call you, the whole point was posing until the pose took and your dreams became authentic. Today, in the world where the Bowery is where millionaires live, authenticity is what you make of it. I wear it, therefore I am.¹ - Glenn O'Brien

I am the Pastoral Urbanite.

Its a pose I'm convinced. But with Mr. O'Brien's definition in mind, its a pose I'm willing hold until it takes.

I dwell in a small college town, but I've lived in a big city.
I've gazed from the vista and teetered on the building ledge.
I've trudged a dirt road and I've hailed a cab in the rain.
I've towered in the pulpit and wallowed on the curb.

What I've learned is that either place has things I love and things that I hate. So now I spend my days and nights with a woman I love looking for the balance of life. A life where success isn't defined by the size of my house or my ability to fit within the accepted norms of the people around me. A life with fresh basil from the garden, picked while still in the suit and tie from the workday. A life where Sinatra is just as likely as Kanye to turn up in the playlist. A life full of friends from every background and discussions from every position. A life with bicycle rides for groceries, pictures of my smiling children, and nights on the sofa figuring out if the world is actually going to hell in a hand basket.

The pose I choose is to take the best of the urbane, mix it with the fruits of the pastoral, and make a life worth living. Sometimes it will read like a poem, more often like a magazine, and sometimes like a farm report. But it will be as honest as I can be while holding the pose.

Thoughts on Esquire's Portable Style Manifesto (in 3 parts)

1. The suit's got to fit. Esquire is right. While a general slide toward casual is devastating the suit market, you walking around like you're wearing your dad's hand me downs isn't helping. However true the rule is please ignore Esquire's oft quoted hand in jacket trick for checking your size. Buy your suits from a reputable retailer who has a measuring tape within easy reach. Your body type and personal style have a lot more to do with how your suit fits than how big your hand is, but generally you're suits are probably too large and your slacks sitting too low.

2. Respect the tie. Tuck in the shirt. Button the jacket. Get it right, all the time, every day. Esquire, again, is right. There are times to loosen your tie, untuck your shirt, and unbutton your jacket but those times are exceptions. Those actions are sloppy and their power comes from judicious use. If you use them every day then you'll just come off unkept. Instead take 10 minutes every morning to make sure your tie knot is immaculate, your shirt is tucked nicely, and you coat is appropriately buttoned. You're trouble will be noticed even if no one knows exactly what they're appreciating. And the next time you loosen your tie at the office you'll make a statement instead of a whimper.

3. Something on you person should always make a statement, and that statement should preferably be "Go to hell." Yes, again but tread carefully. This is one of those rules that can be easily overdone. Make a statement... Don't make a soliloquy. A belt buckle, odd socks, your lucky dice cuff links and a paisley pocket square all on the same day makes a statement where you're the punch line. One statement of personal style at a time is good place to start and if you're really up tight starting with something generally hidden is fine.