Would I Ask Myself Questions Then Answer Them? Probably Not

I think this really started about four or five years ago. I first noticed it in professional sports, but I suspect it may have started with politicians. It also seemed to start at press conferences. And, finally, I think it started with men.

Sometime during the press conference, the subject would field a particularly tricky question that could not be answered with a simple yes or no. After thinking for a bit, the coach or athlete, usually coach, would answer the question but then begin to pose a series of yes-no questions to himself and then provide the answers to those as well. Sometimes this would begin with him repeating the intial question that the other person had asked before asking his own questions. Like so...

"Do I regret going for it on fourth down? No, I don't. I think that that was the right call at that time. Do I wish we disguised the play better before the snap? Yes. Do I think the other team did a good job defending the play. Absolutely. But, would I call that same play again? No question."

Actually, I think we can thank Hollywood producer Robert Evans for all this nonsense. In "The Kid Stays in the Picture," his memoir about the motion picture business in the 1970s, he started doing this. "Was I pissed that some pretty boy was going out with my girl? You're damn right I was." But there was a certain charm to it when he did it. Now, let's take this same concept and hand it over to the coach of an Arkansas college football team.

When coaches started doing this, I thought it was odd and slightly annoying. I couldn't quite put my finger on what bothered me about it back then, but I figured it out after quite a bit of soul searching.

First let me say that what bothers me nowadays is how frequently people are doing it, everywhere in almost any circumstances. I can only imagine what a plague this must be at corporate meetings.

But what bothered me back when it first started, I figured out, was the needlessness of it. I finally realized, why not just say whatever the hell it is that you want to say.

"No, I don't regret going for it on fourth down, but I wish we had disguised it better. And those guys did a great job of defending the play."

Even in those situations, though, there seemed to be a certain logic to asking additional questions. They were repeating the first question, getting into the habit of asking the questions, and maybe letting us in on their thought process as they worked out the answer on the fly.

But now, all the rules have gone out the window. People don't need to even be asked the initial question nor are they letting us in on their thought process. They're just in their own imaginary press conference. Some day soon, people will spout out whole soliquies with this question-answer format. At some point, they will not even need other people to be there.

Do I pray that death will come to me before it gets to that point? Yes. Oh heavenly father, would I like it if you stopped people from asking themselves question? Of course. Do I also ask that you forgive us of our sins? You bet.

Guy Talk

I once went to a bachelor party where a handful of us sat around drinking the gifts we received for being a part of the wedding. The groom's friend from the old days (who shall remain nameless) kept pouring Jim Beam into the white plastic cap off the Jim Beam bottle and throwing back cap-sized shots. He also occasionally would shame one of us to have one of his cap shots.

Quickly, he got drunker than anyone else there and began spinning some yarns. At some point, as I recall, he got onto the subject of women. The memory is faded now, but there seemed to be a lot of elbowing Allan and saying, "Remember that one chick with the big cans? Remember her! You gotta remember that one!"

Then came the story of the biker rally. Again, some details are fuzzy. Others are seared into my brain. Well, Jim Beam won himself the attentions of a certain biker lady who may have actually been there with her husband. Then she more or less attacked Jim and they started making out. From there, the story got more and more detailed. Soon they were both disrobed in a tent at one point. When she removed her bra, she revealed a tatoo of a panther on one of her breasts. The panther appeared to be clawing at her skin, which Jim found to be the height of eroticism.

Sexual acts and positions were described. One would think that this sort of braggadocio would focus solely on the proudest moments of the exploit. Not so. Soon they were in a public shower of some sort at the campgrounds, and Jim was so drunk that he had trouble getting aroused. The panther lady had to take some additional measures to complete the act of coitus.

It's kind of funny how comfortable some guys can be reliving every last, tawdry detail for a group of other guys, especially when intoxicated. It's also funny how uncomfortable some guys can get learning such intimate information about their buddies.