Bartender Banter: Spring is Here

Never mind that it's still February. The Cubs played their first Spring Training game yesterday, therefore Spring has officially begun in my book.

We're still getting settled back in at the Saloon here and I thought I would update our readers with some odds and ends.

• As you can see the Saloon is back and with a new look. Actually it's the same look ripped from our other blog we shall no longer name. One of the new perks is the little ratings option for folks to rate our posts. This will serve as a way for us to see what you like and dislike and strive to provide better content for you in the future....... Nah, that's a bunch of bullshit. The ratings system is just to stroke our own egos and vote 1 on posts that are not our own to piss each other off.

• Baseball is back in swing and so comes the annual TMS baseball previews. This year we'll be doing things differently, posting a team each weekday for the next month. The first preview debuts Monday as Dave Thomas will cover the California Angels.

• Also coming in the next week or so will be the TMS fantasy baseball rankings. I had started them on the other blog and plan to provide a full post with each position ranked. Stay tuned for that in the very near future.

• As I mentioned the Cubs played their first ST game yesterday, which was highlighted by Micah Hoffpauir hitting a grand slam. It's good to know that if something were to happen to Derrek Lee that we got a better option than John Mabry to back him up this time.

• Thunder Matt Murton is in Colorado now and I know some of you are wondering if we'll still keep tabs on him. You're god damn right we will. The Thunder Matt Trophy Room has been cold and lonely lately. It's about time we see some more pitchers' mugs plastered in there.

• Did you hear? Old Style is being kraeusened again! I just got my first 12 pack of it yesterday. A TMS Beer Project is sure to follow. All I can say right now is that if the sound of angels singing had a flavor, it would be this.

• At no point can I see myself this season saying the words, "Oh good, Aaron Miles is up."

• Much like Chuck Norris and bacon, the undying love for mustaches has reached such a ridiculous level of hype that it has become overrated in a sense. Yet I have to say if anyone is going to rock a 'stache with authority it would be Fat Z. Unfortunately he shaved it off. Not that he isn't intimidating enough on the mound as it is, but the mustache would've been the icing on the cake.

• Sure their weren't any big "knock your dick in the dirt" offseason moves this winter, but I don't get why folks are so down about it. Yeah Milton Bradley was our biggest signing, but look at how much other stuff we unloaded. No more Jason Marquis, Ronny Cedeno, Bob Howry? That just saved me a little extra cash on Maalox this season.

• Best new album I've heard recently: Hold Time by M. Ward. Go check it out.

¡Viva Zambrano Bigotudo!

The Mustache Diaries - Days 18 and 19, aka The Big Reveal

In a futile and ill-advised attempt to gain the respect of firefighters and police officers everywhere, as well as to inject some much needed testosterone into my aura, I've decided to try to grow a mustache. I will chronicle the impending fallout. This is my story.

*Pictures have been altered to protect the innocent. And guilty.

As I sit here and type this, my upper lip is naked and cold, utterly soulless. A piece of me is gone and I fear it will never come back. Me and my mustache had many good times together. I would stroke him thoughtfully and he would laugh at all my jokes. My mustache had a name. His name was Dale. Dale is gone...but not forgotten. I love you sweet mustache. (whispers) I love you.

It all happened last Thursday, on a sunny day in Southern California while preparing for the bachelor party of Saloon bartender Brant R. Brown. The 'R' stands for Randall. I nervously put the razor to my delicate chin, and within minutes, I became something more than just another douchenozzle with a goatee. No. I became the proud owner of a Fu-Manchu. Immediately I could feel the effect. I developed a previously unseen bulge in my pants. I had muscles, whereas before I was built like 1991-era Dustin Diamond. My voice lowered and I became adept at juggling and long division. So this is what its like to be a man? Yes. Yes it is.

I liked this look. A little gay cowboy/YMCA meets hipster sheik. But it worked in a strange way. Bars up and down the coast of Southern California quivered in my presence. From the backseat of our minivan cab I repeatedly yelled at our cabbie, "I have a mustache!" and cackled maniacally. (I really did do that. Sadly, that's not made up.) This was the greatest day of my life. Later that night, I passed out. Was it from too much alcohol or too much testosterone? Results are inconclusive.

The next day I took a gamble. Whilst shaving and nursing a hangover that would slay the mighty Zeus, I decided to go one step further and shave this glorious Fu-Manchu into the patented 'motorcycle cop' look. So I did. There was a knock on my door almost immediately. Chris Hansen from 'Dateline NBC' stood there, his hair perfectly coiffed. I invited Chris and his camera crew in, offered to whip up some French Toast, and proceed to innocently tell him how much I love kids.

Let's be honest with each other. Let's call a David (spade) a David. I looked awfully creepy. What was once kitchy was now terrifying. It worked a little better when I was hearing a hipster t-shirt and a pair of Chip Wesley's aviator shades. But later in the day, when I had to throw on a nice shirt for Brant's wedding rehearsal? When the t-shirt comes off, so does the irony. Now I was just a nightmare for concerned parents everywhere. There goes the neighborhood.

Alas, that look only lasted half a day. After I shaved I felt really awkward. It was like Sampson (Ralph) without his hair. It was terrifying, but with the help of some expensive group counseling I was able to get over it. The recovery period wasn't pretty and I may end up relapsing into facial hair purgatory before it's all said and done.

I think a lot of good came out of my experiment. The world was held captive and followed me (and Dale) on my journey. If I inspired but one baby-faced man (or woman) to push their chips to the middle of the table and exclaim, "I'm all in", then I've done my job. Hop aboard the daddy's mustache and let's go for a ride. You'll see things you never could have imagined.

Day 18 (The Fu-Manchu)

Comments: Ok, I have dark black hair. Why the shit is my mustache brown, bordering on a whispy blonde? Oh Dale!


Comments: You can only partially see, but my t-shirt is just a blue shirt with a bearded guy's face on it, no explanation. It couldn't have been more appropriate.

Comments: One nasty side effect of the stache? I became a huge Rush Limbaugh guy. Well, not so much me as Dale. Dale loves to read.

Day 19 (To Catch a Predator)

Comments: The bright lights of the Dateline camera crew left me temporarily dazed.

Comments: No, I will not smile. Dale is not happy-go-lucky anymore. Dale is angry and not so much 'law abiding'.

The Mustache Diaries - Day 12

In a futile and ill-advised attempt to gain the respect of firefighters and police officers everywhere, as well as to inject some much needed testosterone into my aura, I've decided to try to grow a mustache. I will chronicle the impending fallout. This is my story.

DAY 12

Comments: I'm cold and scared. Question. When I want to shave that atrocity on my chin to form a stache, how do I go about doing that? Just a normal razor? I imagine it's to the point where it would really hurt, possibly scarring me for life, both emotionally and physically. Do I need to buy an electric razor/beard trimmer? Aren't those things expensive? What have I gotten myself into? I feel the sudden urge to hunt wild game.

The Mustache Diaries - Day 8

In a futile and ill-advised attempt to gain the respect of firefighters and police officers everywhere, as well as to inject some much needed testosterone into my aura, I've decided to try to grow a mustache. I will chronicle the impending fallout. This is my story.

DAY 8

Comments: Good Lord, do I play baseball for the Houston Astros? Am I a hockey player? Goatees are sooo pre-9/11. Is it time to shave it into a stache? No! Too soon! Too soon! This look tells the world, "I enjoy drinking domestic light beer out of a can."

The Mustache Diaries - Day 4

In a futile and ill-advised attempt to gain the respect of firefighters and police officers everywhere, as well as to inject some much needed testosterone into my aura, I've decided to try to grow a mustache. I will chronicle the impending fallout. This is my story.

DAY 4

Comments: Today I turned 30. I think I've proven that with increased age does not come increased testosterone. Not sure if you can tell from the picture (I'll blame 'bad lighting') but there is more hair, nay, peachfuzz there. Maybe not so much on the top of the lip, but there's a nice little Matt Clement thing forming on the bottom. I've debated coloring in the top with black magic marker. Still not comfortable shaving the bottom part for fear of being brought up on charges of soliciting minors with blackberry brandy and mustache rides.

Important Mustache Diary Update

There is no mustache update for today.

Fear not, it's still there (in theory). Just no discernible progress. Check back regularly all weekend for all the scintillating updates!

The Mustache Diaries - Day 1

I am nearly 30 years old. My accomplishments are few and far between. I have no discernible talents to speak of and have trouble with both manual labor and long division. My frame is slight, having not lifted weights since the Taft administration and I lack the common sense to complete most simple tasks. If I were to die tomorrow, my tombstone would probably read 'Eh' or 'I guess he was pretty good at Trivia Pursuit: Pop Culture Edition'.

Thus, I awoke today, in 2008, sat straight up in bed, and punching my cat exclaimed, "I'm gonna be somebody!" My wife then shushed me and I proceeded to go back to bed and sleep until noon.

But then I woke up and still had this feeling that I could not shake. How can I make my mark on society? How do I want to be remembered? How can I gain the respect of my fellow man and the sexual lust of women everywhere? Gazing at the framed 8x10" glossy headshot of Tom Selleck on my nightstand, it suddenly dawned on me.* I will grow a mustache.

Think of all of the great men that have sported a stache' throughout history. Ghandi. Albert Einstein. Michael Jordan. Alex Trebek. Hulk Hogan. Jake Gyllenhaal. The list goes on.

Thus, I begin my journey and will chronicle it here on the site. The one glaring roadblock that I foresee is my borderline horrific lack of testosterone. Can I overcome this and grow something more than a glorified peach fuzz semi-circle? Doubtful. But dammit I can try. Things might get hairy! (Ba dum bum!)

*It was mere coincidence that the idea came to me while gazing the Tom Selleck photo, as that is how I normally start most days.

DAY 1

Comments: I had just shaved yesterday, so this amounts to little more than peachfuzz. I left some on my chin as well just because I seem to grow hair better there. Fear not, I will shave the chin stubble when (rather, 'if') the stache becomes more apparent. This gives me the option of going with the fu-manchu, or 'Village People' look. I already have the assless chaps, so half of that battle is already won.