the writing and photography of Neil Kramer
I was reading Reverend Billy Graham’s website, as most Jews do on a Tuesday afternoon, when I noticed the title of this press release about Mr. Graham’s recent get-together in New York City:
Billy Graham Wakes Up the City That Never Sleeps
Think about it.
Whenever a couple separates, it is inevitable that one of them is going to take a stab a dating again.  Sophia went to bat first. She decided to try her luck this weekend on Lavalife, famed for its slogan, “Where Singles Click.”Â
Now, Sophia is flamboyant, not only in real life, but in her writing. She has a literary bent and wasn’t happy just writing a boring ol’ profile. Instead, at the end of her profile, she wanted to add a tongue in cheek item that I once used for a post a couple of months ago.  Actually, I stole it from her.
Over 15,000 men responded to this sexy personal ad in an Atlanta newspaper:
“SINGLE BLACK FEMALE seeks male companionship, ethnicity unimportant. I’m a very good looking girl who LOVES to play. I love long walks in the woods, riding in your pickup truck, hunting, camping and fishing trips, cozy winter nights lying by the fire. Candlelight dinners will have me eating out of your hand. I’ll be at the front door when you get home from work, wearing only what nature gave me. Call (404) 875-xxxx and ask for Daisy. I’ll be waiting…”
They found themselves talking to the Atlanta Humane Society about an 8 week old black labrador retriever!
Sophia submitted the profile. A little while later, she received an email saying that her profile had been rejected. Why? Because she had written that it was a single BLACK female, and someone from the African-American community might be offended.Â
Sophia thought this was silly, but took out the word “black” and resubmitted the profile. Â
A few minutes later, she received another email.  Sophia had been rejected again.  This time it was because Sophia used the name “Daisy.” Lavalife’s rationale: someone on Lavalife who is named “Daisy” might be insulted by being compared to a dog.
Sophia took out the name “Daisy.” The “single black female” item was getting less and less funny, but Sophia is not the type to give up easily. She resubmitted the profile. Here’s what the humorous item looked like now.Â
Over 15,000 men responded to this sexy personal ad in an Atlanta newspaper:
SINGLE FEMALE seeks male companionship, ethnicity unimportant. I’m a very good looking girl who LOVES to play. I love long walks in the woods, riding in your pickup truck, hunting, camping and fishing trips, cozy winter nights lying by the fire. Candlelight dinners will have me eating out of your hand. I’ll be at the front door when you get home from work, wearing only what nature gave me. Call (404) 875-xxxx and ask for me. I’ll be waiting…
They found themselves talking to the Atlanta Humane Society about an 8 week old labrador retriever!
It is rejected again.Â
“Thank you for your email. We have read your profile and see that it was rejected as you mentioned the Atlanta Humane Society in your profile. It seem a bit too specific.”
Sophia emailed a supervisor. The supervisor suggested that Sophia send the profile to her office directly. Sophia deleted any mention of Atlanta and emailed it off.  The humorous item now ended like this:
They found themselves talking to the local Humane Society about an 8 week old labrador retriever!
The supervisor sent back an email stating that Sophia cannot mention the Humane Society at all because they are a real organization and they might be offended.
Sophia called me up and we both took a look at the Lavalife site.  We saw photos of naked women. We saw photos of men showing their erections. We saw posts about how a guy “will fuck a woman’s brains out.” This was OK, but it wasn’t OK to tell this stupid joke about Daisy, the black labrador retriever.
Sophia wrote to the Lavalife again.  Lavalife responded:
“Please make the necessary changes to your profiles as soon as possible as this can cause your account to be suspended or removed from the site.”
Sophia finally gave up with this item, but being the creative type, she decided to go for something else — a benign light-hearted quote at the end of the profile:
John McEnroe once said to a woman he was instructing: “Lady, sometimes you just have to stick your racquet out and good things will happen.”
As Sophia emailed Lavalife for the final time, she spoke to me on the phone.
“If this is what online dating is all about, I might just have to get back together with you.”
Just then, Sophia got an email from Lavalife:
“The profile was rejected as your stated the name John McEnroe.
We appreciate that this may not be a real name, it could however,identify someone whose real name it is. So if you could select another nickname that follows this guideline, we can approve that for you. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
Amazon.com is doing a special 10th Anniversary Promotion. Instead of the boring old UPS guys delivering your packages, some lucky customers will get major celebrities coming to their doors with the Amazon products they ordered. For instance, Jason Alexander might show up with the new Seinfeld DVD. Or Harrison Ford will be at the door with the new edition of Indiana Jones.
Recently, I ordered a new tennis racket from Amazon.
This morning, there was a knock at my door. It was my new tennis racket from Amazon.com — delivered by Anna Kournikova!
Here is our conversation, word for word:
Anna Kournikova: Delivery for Neil Kramer.
Me: That’s me.
Anna Kournikova: Sign here.
Me: OK. Thanks.
She handed me the package.
Anna Kournikova: Take care.
She left. I closed the door behind me.
Happy Birthday, Amazon. Next time, just send me everything on my Wishlist.
UPDATE 6PM: My apologies to Amazon.com. Anna Kournikova did not really come to my door this morning. Rather than this being a dumb promotion that was worthy of mocking, these celebrity visits were filled with fun and excitement for Amazon’s customers.
(Robin Weiner/U.S. Newswire)
As an example, here is the real picture of Kournikova making a surprise personal delivery (with UPS driver Hugo R. Leal) to Los Angeles doctor Andrea Feinberg. In the box was a pair of Adidas sneakers and a gym bag. Kournikova smiled and laughed with the UPS driver as the photographer took photos. After the photo session, Kournikova quickly got the hell out of there and into her awaiting limousine.
UPDATE July 20:
(artwork by Dean Morrissey)
Something happened to me on the way to the Blogosphere. I actually started caring about you idiots — and I find this a little weird. I started this enterprise for totally selfish reasons. I wasn’t writing anything at the moment and I wanted to amuse myself. Besides, not having a blog by 2005 was like not having a color TV set by 1978.
Hilary was the first commenter that I added to my blogroll, mostly because she explained to me what the blogroll was all about. Then I began to read her links and steal her links, and then read and steal the links of the links. Soon it became incestuous, like the hillbilly family in "Deliverance." One night, I’m following this link from Hilary to Gooch, and I see Leese has a comment there.
"What the hell is she doing there?" I wonder about my new pseudo-friend who I don’t really know. It was if she was my wife and I caught her having an affair. That is, until I remember that I found her link through him.
Kid Sis mentions feeling jealous when two of her links become buddies.
I never thought I’d be name dropping like this, actually mentioning other blogs. I feel a little bit like Ebenezer Scrooge who has had a transformation and now feels sorry for the pathetic Tiny Tim. Who the hell are you people and why am I caring about your measly lives?
Maybe Fun Joel, the screenwriting expert, can explain Aristotle’s idea of "catharsis" — where an audience member purges his emotion through the characters in a play. All of you have such interesting lives: I really want you to get a husband, get laid on Saturday night, overcome illness, get that job with Sony, stop fighting with your brother, divorce your wife already, stop eating junk food, and write that novel you’re too afraid to start. I remember feeling very upset when I read Jack‘s post about his wife’s purse being stolen.
But I constantly say to myself, "I don’t really know any of you."
In real life, I would fight with some of you about your crazy political ideas (some on the left and some on the right). Some of you seem like real jerks (but you write so well that I can’t stop reading you).
Some of you I have linked to, but you haven’t linked to me (who’s kvetching now, Esther?). What can I do to improve my blog so I can win your approval? Or are you just playing hard to get? You know, it’s working. I now care more about you than the ones who have already linked to me. Bastards.
Sometimes I try to visualize what you look like. I imagine Michael Blowhard as a professor type, sitting at his computer while smoking a pipe. I visualize my female readers sitting by their laptops, wearing nothing but the mouse in their hand. I don’t know why, but I’m always imagining female bloggers as blogging in the nude. Is this true or is it just a fantasy?
Again, I don’t really know any of you. If one of my blogging pals broke his foot in Atlanta, Georgia, would I fly out to help?
I started "Citizen of the Month" feeling disdain for you other bloggers. Why are you wasting all your time online? Now, I care about your stupid lives. I feel like one of the Tripods from "The War of the Worlds" sent to Earth to destroy you, but who decided to just hang out and listen to some "Grateful Dead" tunes with you instead.
It’s all your fault.
Saturday Night
as sung by The Bay City Rollers
(written by Bill Martin and Phil Coulter)
S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y night!
S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y night!
S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y night!
S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y night!
Gonna keep on dancin’ to the
rock and roll
On Saturday night, Saturday night
Dancin’ to the rhythm in our
heart and soul
On Saturday Night, Saturday night
I-I-I-I-I just can’t wait,
I-I-I-I got a date
At the good ole rock and roll road
show, I gotta go
Saturday Night,
Saturday Night
Gonna rock it up, roll it up
Do it all, have a ball,
Saturday Night,
Saturday Night
It’s just a Saturday Night!
It’s just a Saturday Night!
It’s just a Saturday Night!
Gonna dance with my baby till the
night is thru
On Saturday Night, Saturday Night
Tell her all the little things I’m
gonna do
On Saturday night, Saturday Night
I-I-I-I-love her so
I-I-I I’m gonna let her know
S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y NIGHT, S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y NIGHT,
S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y NIGHT, S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y NIGHT,
It’s just a Saturday Night!
It’s just a Saturday Night!
IT’s just a Saturday Night!
It’s just a Saturday Night!
I recently ate in this breakfast place called CJ’s Cafe (5501 Pico Blvd.). It’s been on this corner for years, but I always passed it and never thought of going inside. To be honest, the reason I never went in was that it seemed like a black and Latino hangout and wasn’t sure if I would be welcome. Finally, I said to hell with it. This is L.A. They’d be happy to take my money, too. I went inside, and found myself in a simple, but comfortable cafe. I really liked the place and I had a great breakfast (an omelette with spicy turkey sausage).
Today, Sophia was passing by my apartment on the way to a job. I suggested we try CJ’s together. We got to the cafe at 7:30 AM when most of the customers were blue-collar guys who worked at the body shops and carpet stores on Pico Blvd.
Sophia had a meeting later in the day, so she was wearing a new dress that was flowery and tight. As we walked inside, every guy turned to check her out. These guys were not shy about it. These guys ogled her breasts. As the waitress took us to our table, their eyes followed her ass. As we sat down, I leaned over and quietly whispered to Sophia:
"Those guys were really checking you out."
"I know," she said, smiling.
I felt jealous — but not of the men looking at Sophia, the woman I shared a bed with for years. No, if anything — I was jealous of Sophia. I’ve never had the opportunity of stepping into a room filled with women and have them check me out head to toe. I have a feeling that even if I looked like Brad Pitt, it wouldn’t happen. I know it’s politically incorrect to talk about gender differences, but men and women are wired differently.
Although I don’t often show it, I have a flamboyant streak in me. I’d like to walk down the street wearing some cool flowing outfit and have the women "ooh" at my presence. I wouldn’t be surprised if they found out one day that gay men became gay not because they like sleeping with men, but because they can wear yellow in public.
As I sat in CJ’s with Sophia, I thought about what it would be like to be a woman for a while — sort of like those awful body switch comedies they made in the 1980’s. And I don’t mean just dressing up like a woman, like in Tootsie. I mean actually be a full-fledged woman, hopefully a sexy one with a great ass. Don’t get me wrong, I love being a guy. I’m just curious to learn more about the world of a woman. Would I like wearing high heels? Would I get a bikini wax? What does a period really feel like? I wouldn’t mind having breasts to play with.
But would I really want to sleep with… a man? Yuch. Men are so hairy… and they smell bad.
I would’ve been too embarrassed to write this post, that is until I accidentally found a talented female blogger from Albuquerque named Jo-Anne who was asking the same question — from a woman’s POV. She was wondering what it would be like to be a man. I know my female readers are obsessed about penises. Have you ever wondered what it would be like to have one hanging there? Would it be fun to aim and pee? Would you really want to feel like a man — with all that testosterone?
Have you ever wished to be the opposite sex — just for a little while?
In the Japan Today forum, we hear from a Japanese male who moved to Los Angeles
I dislike that city…and from my experience and visiting other cities in the US…is the worst!
Orange County and places like Glendale, Pasadena, and Burbank are okay. I can associate with those kind of people.
But other than that, LA people are crooked scums. They give you the run-arounds and are back-stabbers.
He thinks that romance is particularly tough in the big city.
LA is plain hell on earth. If you’re an Asian girl (the sellout type) …then you can find a nice lovely blondie to marry. But if you’re an Asian guy…hardly any AF or girls will even stare at you.
Hey, sure it’s tough for Asian males. But to make you feel better, this morning in Starbucks, I couldn’t get that Korean-American girl in that UCLA t-shirt to smile back at me either!
Here are some other websites definitely not associated with the Los Angeles Convention and Visitors Bureau.
I Hate L.A. Traffic (via Tale of Two Cities)
LA County Murders (via LA Observed)
Also, does anyone know what an AF is? Asian Female?
I enjoyed doing the meme yesterday (thanks Hilary) and tagging others. I felt bad when I didn’t get a meme before, so if you want to do the pain in the ass meme from yesterday — and I didn’t ask you — just do it and say I tagged you.
No one will know. The whole point of blogging is that you don’t have to follow any stupid rules.
One of the biggest problems in my life is that I wait around to be picked. The worst feeling in the world was back in gym and waiting for the dodgeball teams to pick sides — and standing there last. I missed opportunities for romance because I was afraid to approach women. I didn’t get jobs because I hated calling up an employer after sending a resume.
I say, be proactive and do it yourself. "Pick me! Pick me!" used to be my motto. From now on, I’m not waiting around for someone to ask me to do a meme. It’s my blog and I’ll do what I want to! And you should do the same.
(By the way, that’s just a stock photo above. You wouldn’t actually see me climbing that ridiculous thing.)
Hilary was kind enough to "tag" me with my first "meme." Did I say that right – tag and meme?
10 years ago: I was reading scripts and manuscripts for HBO. I would work at home. My mind was turning to mush. I felt so isolated that I would go to Ralph’s supermarket every day just to talk to the checkout girl. On weekends, I went with my friend, Hiroshi, to bars in Hollywood. We would stand around, not talking to anyone else. We both were students at USC Film School, so we were movie-obsessed. Since we weren’t meeting any women, we would argue about movies. Afterwards, we would go to Canter’s Deli for coffee and cake. We would argue about the movies some more.
5 years ago: Sophia and I spent all July pitching a romantic comedy to Disney. We pitched it to five different executives. We kept on changing it slightly to make it more “outrageous,” as one development person suggested. Finally, we had the opportunity to pitch it to a vice president. I remember practicing in front of the mirror half the night. The next day, we drove to Burbank and the pitch went very well. “Terrific,” the executive said. “But we already have something just like it.”
1 year ago: Last July, Sophia and I took a trip to Bakersfield, California. Why? Because we had never been there. And you know what? There’s really not much there.
Yesterday: I wish I had a more interesting “yesterday,” but I don’t. I worked on a Flash project at home. I sent an IM to Hilary. I checked my stats and saw that I had been linked by a Finnish website. I used Babelfish to translate the site and it read like nonsense. Sophia called, angry at my “Ménage a Trois” post.
Sophia: “All you got out of our marriage was that… you learned about women?!
I apologized. I said I would change it if she wanted me to. I then found out that she was also upset about the post about our walk.
Sophia: “You said that I walk 2 1/2 hours one way and then 2 1/2 hours back?”
Me: “OK, I exaggerated a bit.”
Sophia: “Your exaggeration makes me sound like a crazy person! Who walks so much? And what type of ice cream place is at LAX”
Me: "We were in El Segundo. I thought people might not know El Segundo, so I wrote LAX.
Sophia: El Segundo is not LAX. What… were we walking on the runway?
Don’t you love women? I know I do. (NOTE: Just read this a few hours later and I think this post might put me in hot water with Sophia again. Luckily, since we’re not living together, she can’t kick me out of the bedroom tonight and make me sleep on the couch. Tonight, I’ll be in my own apartment — sleeping on my own couch!)
I made a salad for dinner. I went to a meeting of LA Flash in Santa Monica. I watched “Beauty and the Geek” on Tivo. Before I went to sleep, I tried to fix my kitchen sink because it was dripping.
Today: I woke up and put on the news. I was upset about the bombings in London. My sink was still dripping. I went to Starbucks, where I am writing this right now. Tonight, I’m going to some play in Hollywood, but I don’t remember the name of it.
Tomorrow: What am I – a psychic?
5 snacks I enjoy: bananas, dates, bagels, green tea ice cream, dark chocolate
5 bands that I know the lyrics of MOST of their songs: The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Stevie Wonder, The Talking Heads, Cake
5 things I would do with $100,000,000: travel around the world, buy a house for me (and for Sophia, my parents, and Sophia’s parents), help out friends, buy a Mac, eat at the best sushi bars
5 locations I’d like to run away to: Paris, London, Florence, Vermont, Central Park
5 bad habits I have: I say “like” too much, I sometimes pick my nose in the car, I tap my foot while waiting, I find it hard to say “no” to other people, I worry
5 things I like doing: Going to the theater, going to the movies, listening to music, reading, taking off my clothes when I get home.
5 things I would never wear: a toupee, colored contact lenses, polyester socks, a thong, a t-shirt that reads “I’m with Stupid.”
5 TV shows I like: The Simpsons, 24, Lost, American Idol, All My Children
5 Movies I like: Best Years of Our Lives, Le Rayon Vert, Dog Day Afternoon, Tootsie, Babe
5 famous people I’d like to meet: Charles Dickens, Woody Allen, Eleanor Roosevelt, Moses, Cole Porter
5 biggest joys at the moment: The fact that Sophia and I still get along, my parents, interacting with others through “Citizen of the Month,” being friends with guys I met in kindergarten and hearing about their lives, still having my hair.
5 favorite toys: Tivo, laptop, cellphone, “Citizen of the Month,” my hair.
According to the rules, I need to "tag" other people. I have no idea if they are interested — especially since it is a bit like a homework assignment and there’s a lot of news coming from London — but here’s a try. Maybe it’ll even give people a break from the news: Leese, Joel, TWM, Todd, and Alley.
What a terrible event in London.
I can’t believe it took so long (at least a half hour) before it was blamed on — the Jews.
In other news, I find it a positive step that Sir Igbal Sacranie of the Muslim Council of Britain publicly condemned the attacks. (via Marissa)
"We are simply appalled and want to express our deepest condolences to the families."
"These terrorists, these evil people want to demoralise us as a nation and divide us."
"All of must unite in helping the police to hunt these murderers down."
Can we hear from some more Muslim leaders… in other countries?
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