Happy Hour

Last week my office had a happy hour at a local pizza joint after work. These happy hours have historically been very lame and this one would not have been blog-worthy had it not been for one conversation.

I was engaged in some mundane conversation with a superior probably about sports or the weather when I overheard this gem of a conversation unfolding:

Coworker 1: “What, you don’t know what the hymen is?”

Coworker 2: “No, should I?”

I immediately turned away from my co-worker to observe where this was headed. Coworker 1 is a male under 30 who, in my opinion should have avoided this conversation like the plague. Coworker 2 is a female in her mid to upper 30’s who has an MBA from a very good school. In her defense, she is not originally from the United States and English is her second language. There were also a few other male coworkers involved in this conversation who echoed her question.

Coworker 1 looked to me for guidance as to whether he should proceed with an explanation. Naturally I gave the “go-for-it” look and he did.

Coworker 1: “Well, uh, it is the thin layer of skin that is broken the first time a woman has sex.”

Coworker 2 (with a horrified look): “So how do you win the trophy?”

It was at this moment I realized her mistake and fell out of my chair laughing.

If you have not yet figured out why I was laughing, I will explain. The word “hymen” and the word “Heisman” sound similar, especially to a foreigner. So, in an attempt to learn about college football, she got an interesting lesson in female anatomy.
After I picked myself off the floor and wiped the tears from my eyes, I saw that Coworker 2 had relocated to the other end of the table. I could see how red her face was, even from across the room.

Nickelback: Rock Band or Boy Band?

This entry is aimed at a certain esteemed colleague of mine who is a fan of Nickelback and can’t figure out why I would rather hurl myself down a flight of stairs than listen to their music.

After beginning this entry, I began to notice numerous parallels between the “hard rock band” Nickelback, and those loveable teeny boppers, N’Sync.

First, observe how eerily similar the two pictures above are. In appearance alone, it is unquestionable that the two bands are targeting the same audience, high school girls. It would not surprise me to see these two posters side by side in the room of a 16 year old high school cheerleader. Nickelback’s and N’Sync’s videos, which have appeared on MTV’s TRL (a show whose primary demographic is high school aged kids) more times than can be counted, are even filmed similarly. Imagine Chad Kroeger standing in front of a fan that is blowing his wavy, frosted, “rock star” hair around. This is taken directly from the N’Sync business model.

Second, as if the first was not enough, the lyrics to Nickelback songs (like N’Sync’s) are so undeniably cliché that I can no longer distinguish them from the other terrific bands of the day (like Puddle of Mudd). If Nickelback writes their own songs, which I seriously doubt they do, they should be ashamed. The lyrics, like the ones in my all-time favorite Nickelback song “Photograph”, are so simplistic; I think a 5 year old could write them. But every now and then they throw in a bad word so they can be “edgy” like a real rock band.

First verse to Nickelback song Photograph:

Look at this photographEvery time I do it makes me laughHow did our eyes get so red?And what the hell is on Johnny’s head?

And seriously, no rock band should have a hit song called ”Rockstar.” Give me a freaking break.

My third and final comparison relates to the absolutely nauseating number of times you are forced to listen to Chad Kroeger’s awful voice on the radio. Like N’Sync in their prime, you can’t turn on the radio, or TV for that matter, without being blasted with one of their mega-hits that is destined to end up on Now 25.

I realize the goal of most bands is to become popular and have your music heard by every man, woman, and child. In doing this, they have been immensely successful and I cannot fault them for that, but that does not stop me from cringing every time I hear the words, “Hey, hey, I wanna be a rock star!”