What happened to all the nice guys? An open letter...

What happened to all the nice guys?

The answer is simple: you did.

See, if you think back, really hard, you might vaguely remember a Platonic guy pal who always seemed to want to spend time with you. He’d tag along with you when you went shopping, stop by your place for a movie when you were lonely but didn’t feel like going out, or even sit there and hold you while you sobbed and told him about how horribly the (other) guy that you were fucking treated you.

At the time, you probably joked with your girlfriends about how he was a little puppy dog, always following you around, trying to do things to get you to pay attention to him. They probably teased you because they thought he had a crush on you. Given that his behavior was, admittedly, a little pathetic, you vehemently denied having any romantic feelings for him, and reinforced your position by claiming that you were “just friends.” Besides, he totally wasn’t your type. I mean, he was a little too short, or too bald, or too fat, or too poor, or didn’t know how to dress himself, or basically be or do any of the things that your tall, good-looking, fit, rich, stylish boyfriend at the time pulled off with such ease.

Eventually, your Platonic buddy drifted away, as your relationship with the boyfriend got more serious and spending time with this other guy was, admittedly, a little weird, if you werent dating him. More time passed, and the boyfriend eventually cheated on you, or became boring, or you realized that the things that attracted you to him weren’t the kinds of things that make for a good, long-term relationship. So, now, you’re single again, and after having tried the bar scene for several months having only encountered players and douche bags, you wonder, “What happened to all the nice guys?”

Well, once again, you did.

You ignored the nice guy. You used him for emotional intimacy without reciprocating, in kind, with physical intimacy. You laughed at his consideration and resented his devotion. You valued the aloof boyfriend more than the attentive “just-a-” friend. Eventually, he took the hint and moved on with his life. He probably came to realize, one day, that women aren’t really attracted to guys who hold doors open; or make dinners just because; or buy you a Christmas gift that you mentioned, in passing, that you really wanted five months ago; or listen when you’re upset; or hold you when you cry. He came to realize that, if he wanted a woman like you, he’d have to act more like the boyfriend that you had. He probably cleaned up his look, started making some money, and generally acted like more of an asshole than he ever wanted to be.

Fact is, now, he’s probably getting laid, and in a way, your ultimate rejection of him is to thank for that. And I’m sorry that it took the complete absence of “nice guys” in your life for you to realize that you missed them and wanted them. Most women will only have a handful of nice guys stumble into their lives, if that.

So, if you’re looking for a nice guy, here’s what you do:

1.) Build a time machine.
2.) Go back a few years and pull your head out of your ass.
3.) Take a look at what’s right in front of you and grab ahold of it.

I suppose the other possibility is that you STILL don’t really want a nice guy, but you feel the social pressure to at least appear to have matured beyond your infantile taste in men. In which case, you might be in luck, because the nice guy you claim to want has, in reality, shed his nice guy mantle and is out there looking to unleash his cynicism and resentment onto someone just like you.




< /rant>

::exhale::

Okay. Feeling better now.

"Hello. I'm E.J., and I'm a New York Yankees fan."

Group: "Hi, E.J."

Select people in said group: "Yankees Suck! Yankees Suck!" (Repeat ad nausium)


I've been a Yankee fan all of my life; way before their recent successes. I was at the games when Rick Rhoden, Andy Hawkins, Pasqual Perez, and his brother Melido, were the aces of the pitching staff, with recurring coke-head Steve Howe as the closer. Names like Danny Tartabull, Jessie Barfield, Mel Hall, Hensley Mulens, Alvaro Espinoza, Andy Stankowitz, Randy Velarde, Jack Clark, and Steve Sax, were part of the "Bronx Bombers" of the 80's to early 90's. Don't get me wrong, the Yanks had Dave Winfield, and Don Mattingly, but c'mon...who else was there?

I hate to give the grocery list of past players, but it almost seems like I have to defend myself whenever I say that I'm a Yankee fan. Right away some Masshole Sox fan or Met apologist jumps on my balls to tell me that I only followed them when they started winning. I have to give a sixty minute slide show presentation about my knowledge of the game itself before I convince somebody that I'm not a fair-weather fan. The thing is people like my father, or some of my pals make it tough for me to associate with them at times, because they're the shitty Yankee fans that people hate. Hell, I hate them myself.

******BLOG INTERRUPTION******

I just heard about this article on the radio. This is the shit that makes all Yankee fans look bad. These ass-hats aren't even from New York!

******BLOG COMMENCE******

I can understand to a certain degree why people hate the Yanks and their fans. The championships and the very high payroll could piss people off. Met and Red Sox fans have to stay away from that argument:

2007 Payroll (from USAToday.com)

1) Yankees
2) Red Sox
3) Mets

Small ball teams can't front either. Look at the Athletics and the Twins. They are always contenders, and this year 7 out of the 8 teams in the playoffs were not in it last year, so spending the cash really hasn't paid off (pun intended).

Last night, the Yanks were crushed by the Indians 12 - 3 in game one of the divisional playoffs. I was at my parents' house watching the game with pops, and by the fifth inning, my dad wanted Torre gone since they obviously can't come back from a 0-1 deficit. A guy that own the store a few doors down from my store was sitting outside, all depressed and saying that it's over. This is the stuff I DESPISE. As soon as the Yanks lose, people lose their shit and give up. Don't get me wrong, they Yanks didn't do well last night. They had Sebathia on the ropes a few times with the bases loaded, and didn't capitalize. Jorge Posada swung at at would have been ball four twice, thus bringing in a run and keep Sebathia on the mound and tiring him out even more. Bringing in unproven rookies to the mound in relief was not a decision I agreed with either, but to give up on the season so quickly really shows what type of people I deal with on a daily basis. I'm not cocky when I say that I'm confident that the Yanks will win this round, because I believe they really can. Anybody who thinks that they're going to breeze through these teams is obviously an ignorant baseball fan.

***************************************

A day after the Mets had that tough loss at home to be eliminated from the playoffs, I posted a bulletin on MySpace to rub it to only the Met fans who were talking trash since the beginning of the season. Here it is:

I've got my:



and I'm going to



to see the boys in the playoffs.


To all of the Met fans who were talking all that



all season long...

What are ya'll up to?



I never received so many responses to a bulletin that I've posted. Hell, I wish I had that kind of response to my boat ride postings. People read it right away and thought I was being a typical member of the "Yankee Universe" (blech) and just rubbing it in to all of the Met faithful. Nope. It says only the ones that were talking bullshit all season long. You know who you are. The ones calling into WFAN or ESPN radio trashing the Yanks in April and May (deserve-idly so in certain points) claiming "you" were on the way to win the World Series before the All-Star break. Those voices got kinda silent in mid-September, no? My uncle is one of the few Met fans that I can talk baseball getting into an argument. I really don't follow the National league much, and he doesn't get into the American league, so we can help each other out if we have a question about a certain player or team. To be honest, he's a bigger Met fan than I am a Yankee fan. He stays up late for all of the games when the Mets are in the West coast. He has to get up early in the morning to be at work at 5:00 AM. Mind you, the West coast games don't start until 10:00 PM New York time.

So the next time you encounter a Yankee fan, please give him the benefit of the doubt, and find out if he's a true baseball fan. Not like the douche bags you see on T.V. or at your local watering hole.

Thank you.

I'm going back to college, college, college...

(Say it like LL Cool J would)


So I'm finally doing it. It took a little over ten years, but I'm currently looking at colleges near where I live. My family is totally shocked by it, and to be honest with you, so am I. I never really liked school. I was a good student; honor roll, B+ average, etc. The only thing that kept me sane while I was there was joining clubs, sports, and after school programs. I was even Student Council president during my senior year in high school (I can picture people reading this having the confused, "Butt-Head" look on their face). It does seem strange that the only way I endured school was to get more involved in it. I can't figure it out either.

I don't regret much in my life, but not getting my degree has been something killing my conscience for quite some time now. It's not about pleasing my parents or what other people think of me (I could give two shits about that). I just want to prove to myself that I can do it.

Quick history lesson on "The Miseducation of E.J. Matos":

I attended Le Moyne College in Syracuse, NY from the Fall of '94 to the Winter of '95 majoring in Accounting. It was some of the best times in my life, because I met some of the coolest people anybody could know. I've reconnected with a few of them recently, and it's like we've never missed a step. The first thing I did when I arrived, was sign up in a bunch of clubs to keep me "sane." That really wore me thin (figuratively of course), and made me lose focus on why I left for college. I had a shitty overall GPA during the first semester of sophomore year, and I was always drained. My parents and myself were having a tough time coming up with the money to pay for school, so I had to make a decision. Either go back to Le Moyne, struggling to pay while not doing well in my classes, or come back home. On December or '95 I packed up my stuff and came back to Tarrytown.

I took a semester off to work with pops to raise money, and then I attended Westchester Community College on a part time basis for the next year and a half. All I did was show up to class, and go home. I didn't get involved in anything outside of class. I figured I would do the opposite of what I did in Le Moyne, and all would be well.

Chris Rock said it perfectly when he said "community college is a night club with books." Nobody took it seriously, and it sucked. The worst part of it was that it was easy; as a matter of fact too easy. I was never challenged my time there. I was close to a 3.9 GPA.

During my time at "Harvard on the Hudson," I got at job at Franklin Covey in White Plains. Commuting from the Bronx with pops and then going to school was leaving me with not that much time in between. I started as a part timer, and six months later, I was working full time with them and going to school two nights a week. Then an opportunity came up. An assistant manager's position opened in Short Hills, New Jersey and the job was mine for the taking. I was doing well with the company, and I knew I could shoot up the ladder quickly. I packed up, and left for Jersey. That was the last time I ever attended a classroom.

I lived in Jersey for a year and a half and went back to White Plains for another promotion within the company. Things are going well and just a few months later, I was promoted again and opened up a new location in Greenwich, Connecticut. As a manager, I also was an unofficial assistant district manager for the the Northeast district. I'd travel all over setting up new stores and train new managers...


Then my career hit a brick wall.


Business sucked, corporate was on our asses, and they offered no help. I was working close to 70 hours a week running the store, cold calling potential clients, visiting current clients to get them to spend more, and helping train new managers since turnover was at an all time high with the company. I was rarely home, and it put a strain in my relationship with my girlfriend at time because I was traveling so much. Then they dropped a bomb on us during a conference call. We were not going to get our yearly raises, and get this...they were cutting our salary! I had to bounce, and bounce I did.

I went back to work with pops in the Bronx, and things were going alright. His partners were retiring, so they sold us their share. I was finally a business owner. That's what I've always wanted to do in my life. Working for "the man" was never an option for me. I've been there now for almost six years, and overall it's pretty good.

While working for Franklin Covey, and at the stores, I got into promoting parties, clubs, and boat rides for something fun to do on the side. I got into DJing a few years ago to grab some extra cash, and some of that side 'nanner. One day we were proofing some artwork for a flier promoting one of our boat rides. I thought it was such a shitty job, and I hated the fact that we had to pay $150 bucks for it. We were short on time, so we had to go with it. One day, I picked up a copy of Photoshop, and decided to mess around with it. I put something together and presented it to the boys. They liked it, so we used it for our next flier. Now to say that I'm a bad artist, it would be compliment. I stink at drawing, and I can't build anything to save my life. What I am good with is working with colors. All of those years in the family business (even as a pre-teen) gave me ability to make good combinations, and decipher what made a good outfit. I use that same knowledge to make eye-catching fliers and websites for ourselves and other promoters.

What's great about this is that in an evening or two after work, I can get a flier done and make some nice cash on the side with barely any sweat. I can do it while watching the game or with the music on in the background. It helps me clear my mind of the everyday stresses of retail life in the hood.

I would love to go further with this, so I figured that going to school and get formal training would be the way to go. Luckily, there are a few good schools that specialize in this field around where I live so it seems like fate. It's a late to apply to a school for this semester, but trust me when I tell you that come Winter of '08, my face will be hitting the books once again.


If you want to see some of my work and might be interested in my services, you can check out my MySpace profile (cheap plug alert)

myspace.com/djkubarico

I'm going back to college, college, college...
I'm going back to college...hmm, I'm hoping so.


***Random funny pic***