Lohan’s addiction: More common than we like to think

Written by Joe Pisani
Tuesday, 10 August 2010 14:13

Every family has a Lindsay Lohan in the closet.

Somewhere behind the suits and skirts, crouching in the dark with a bottle or a joint, there’s someone with a drinking problem, a cocaine addiction or a fondness for prescription drugs — which turns everyone’s life into a living hell.

Lohan’s torturous story is a familiar one that would make good bedtime reading to teach youngsters a simple lesson: Substance abuse can destroy anyone no matter how talented, even the star of The Parent Trap.

Tarzan adventure for a middle-aged man

Written by Joe Pisani
Monday, 02 August 2010 17:16

My last great adventure was back in the ’70s when I hitchhiked from New York City to Ohio in the worst blizzard of the decade to go to a keg party.

Throughout the Northeast, roads were closed, and I had to battle biting temperatures, blinding snow and a stomach virus, but nothing could stop me, and I got there just as they were tapping the keg. (My virus was instantly cured.)

I love adventures. Mine, however, have been generally limited to four-hour commutes into and out of Manhattan on trains with faulty air conditioning and clogged toilets, while I challenge myself with beginner-level Sudoku puzzles. My other recent adventure was sitting in the dentist’s chair for two hours with my mouth pried open while I had my teeth whitened.

The fourth-grader in me

Written by Joe Pisani
Monday, 26 July 2010 11:40

An educator at a private school in Manhattan recently told me that by third grade, our personalities are pretty much formed, which is probably why I still enjoy making noises at the dinner table like an elephant passing gas, not to mention throwing eggs at my neighbors on mischief night.

As Wordsworth said, “The child is father of the man.”

Is it possible that as adults we’re the same emotionally and psychologically as we were as youngsters? That we have the same personality traits and idiosyncrasies?

Stop calling, leave us alone!

Written by Joe Pisani
Tuesday, 20 July 2010 10:43

After the fifth call in 15 minutes from the same suspicious number, my daughter dashed down the hall, grabbed the phone and started screaming until the veins popped out in her forehead.

“I have WORK to do and you keep calling! STOP!!!! It’s Sunday #%@#% LEAVE US ALONE!” Then, she slammed down the receiver and calmly walked back to her computer, with the self-satisfaction of a woman who just won a gift certificate for a free pedicure and dinner at Bertucci’s. (For the record, she wasn’t doing “work” — she was shopping online at J. Crew).

“Are you totally insane?” I said. “Who was that?”

An afternoon snooze to boost productivity

Written by Joe Pisani
Thursday, 15 July 2010 11:07

Ground-breaking research, which has important implications for corporate America, the U.S. trade deficit and Sleepy’s mattresses, has concluded that 20 percent of people sleep during staff meetings. Most of them, I suspect, are CEOs.

The survey of almost 9,000 people in Texas, New York and California, was presented at the annual meeting of the Associated Professional Sleep Societies in San Antonio, where an estimated 40 percent of the attendees are believed to have dozed during the presentation.

Researchers concluded that people nod off because they’re not getting enough sleep at night (they’re probably out partying), and the best time to catch up on their shut-eye is at a meeting when someone is complaining about the company’s dismal performance. I’m convinced the reason America is falling behind as an economic power is everyone is asleep at their jobs.

Chinos aren’t too groovy nowadays

Written by Joe Pisani
Tuesday, 06 July 2010 16:55

When I walked into the trendy outfitters, where they sell over-priced hiking boots and designer backpacks, I told the dude with the pony tail (do they still call them “dudes”?) that I was looking for a pair of “chinos,” and a confused look came over his Brad Pitt face.

“You’re in the wrong department,” he said. “These are men’s clothes.”

Did he think I was looking for a flannel teddy or snowshoes for my Chihuahua or a coonskin cap? Clearly, we spoke different “lingoes.”

Supermarket tabloids and what they reveal

Written by Joe Pisani
Tuesday, 29 June 2010 12:13

While I was waiting in line at Walmart to pay for my dental floss (they say it prevents heart attacks and old age), I started leafing through the supermarket tabloids and read about a reality TV “star” who suffered terrible pain, far worse than gingivitis.

Many are the misfortunes of fame. Celebrities endure more tribulations than the ordinary man, woman, child or household pet.

Kendra Wilkinson, a former Playboy plaything and Hugh Hefner hood ornament, may have wanted to be a hair stylist, but fate had bigger things in store for her. She had plastic surgery. She became a reality TV star. She got pregnant. She had a baby. She lost 10 pounds. She gained 15. She got her own show, her own fitness video and her own sex tape. Is it any wonder she’s about to publish her memoirs at 25?

Too much information

Written by Joe Pisani
Tuesday, 22 June 2010 13:55

After six months, I still haven’t read my new car manual and can’t tell you what some of the fancy switches and buttons do. I can turn on the lights and windshield wipers, and I know where the cup-holder is, but that’s about it.

When the dealer gave me a 10-minute orientation, he held up the manual, about as thick as a Tolstoy novel, and warned, “If you do NOTHING else, be sure to read the pages outlined in red because they have valuable information.”

I nodded agreement like a kid who has to please the Latin teacher to get a passing grade. As it turns out, the manual sat in the glove compartment along with a stale jelly doughnut, and when I finally started to read it, I began to hyperventilate from TMI — too much information.

The truth about all the lying

Written by Joe Pisani
Tuesday, 15 June 2010 13:00

Back in my college days when I went to bars to meet girls, I would tell them I wrote for The New Yorker and partied with author John Updike. Truth be told, the closest I ever got to The New Yorker was my dentist’s waiting room, where a few copies were kicking around from the ‘60s.

To my thinking, it was a white lie with good intentions. (OK, maybe not-so-good intentions.) I admit, however, that I only told this lie after five Ballantine ales, and it really didn’t help because most of the women I tried to pick up read the National Enquirer.

I was reminded of my embellishments during the recent brouhaha over a Senate candidate’s statements about Vietnam service.

The hazards of cleaning the office fridge

Written by Joe Pisani
Tuesday, 01 June 2010 14:53

The other day we got a memo about an urgent matter of corporate security that made everyone in the office gasp. It wasn’t from the CEO — it was from the cleaning lady.

“This is directed at all those ... who use THE REFRIGERATOR!!!” she began.

Then, for a page and a half, she described in graphic detail the horrors she encountered when she opened the door to clean the office refrigerator, outfitted with latex gloves, a face mask, a Hazmat suit and a gallon jug of Germ-X.

Woe to the poor soul whose job description includes “cleaning the refrigerator.” Whenever I see someone performing that task, I keep my distance because the swearing is painful to endure, but not as painful as the smell.