By Phil Fountain and Steve Brewer
Phil: Well, Steve, it appears Kelly and Doni are enjoying a runaway hit with their ANewsCafe.com feature, The Friday Dish. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t begrudge them their success. I read The Dish on a regular basis. I’m a fan. But honestly, doesn’t it seem a bit chick-centric? You know what I mean? Like it’s written by girls? Correct me if I’m wrong (pretend you’re my wife) but as far as I can tell, nothing bigger than a soufflé has exploded, has it? And racing across town in the minivan to a garage sale doesn’t qualify as a “car chase” these days, does it?
Steve: If I’m not mistaken, soufflés do not “explode,” they “fall.” How lame is that? “My soufflé has fallen and I can’t get lunch.” Oh, whiny-whine. We need a manly version of The Dish, one that embraces in a big ol’ bro-hug all the things that men stand for, such as beer, brawn and body hair.
Phil: Right on, dude! A place where a fella can scratch what itches and where having the ability to belch The Star-Spangled Banner makes you an artist (as well as a prized dinner guest and patriot).
Steve: Speaking of manliness, a new “survey” of the nation’s 50 largest metropolitan areas names the manliest and least-manliest cities. Asylum.com reports that the snack “food” Combos, as part of an advertising campaign, picked Nashville, Tenn., as the manliest city in the nation. No. 2 was Charlotte, N.C., and third was Oklahoma City. Apparently, the criteria for manliness include country music, auto racing, cowboy hats and grits.
Phil: I wonder if they factor in the ability to actually digest those delectable little Man d’oeuvres they sell. You definitely have to have the Y chromosome to buy a bag of faux pretzels stuffed with cheese powder, I mean, with the intent to consume them, anyway. No female has ever been that hungry. I think that yellow stuff is the same dry “cheese food” that comes in those foil packets in Kraft macaroni and cheese boxes.
Steve: Cheese? That’s what that stuff is? I thought it was just their survey that was cheesy. I certainly quibble (is there a less manly verb than “quibble?”) with the choices for the least-masculine cities, which show a clear anti-California bias. HALF the bottom 10 were in the Golden State. San Francisco was No. 2 (hard to argue with that one), Los Angeles was No. 3, San Diego came in 8th and Sacramento was 10th. But the one that points up how truly stupid this “survey” is: The 7th least-manly city was Oakland. Oakland! The home of the Black Panthers, Hell’s Angels and the Bloods/Crips. Are you kidding me? Even manly men wear a cup when they go to Oakland.
Phil: I would love to find the guy who wrote the survey and drop him off at 66th and San Leandro after a Raiders game. I’d dress him in a John Elway jersey and see how long it takes for him to become separated from his bag of cheesy pretzel snacks… and his wallet.
Steve: The least manly city in the country, according to the survey, was New York. Apparently, it is not considered manly to cuss out total strangers, to cross against traffic, to spit in public or to fit others with cement shoes.
Phil: I’ll bet “Combos” sales have lagged in the Big Apple so the marketing folks are taking a cheap shot.
Steve: Hell, you can get real pretzels and cheese in New York, right on the street! Served by a man who rarely bathes!
Phil: I’ll wager you could step up to a crowded bar in Nashville, let loose some prodigious bodily gasses, and be greeted with back slaps and a “Good one, pard.” It is, after all, “Music City.”
Steve: Sounds like a hit record to me. Too bad Redding wasn’t included among the cities in the survey. We could’ve come in near the top.
Phil: You bet your chain-saw lubricant we could’ve! It takes some huevos grandes to live in Redding. You ever tried whipping a U-turn on Dana Drive? It ain’t for the faint of heart, buddy. Shoot, them Nashville Cats wouldn’t last a New York minute on a Redding sidewalk in August.
Steve: Amen, brother. You know what they call a high-speed car chase in Redding? “Saturday night.”
Phil: Say, I know you’re not a baseball fan (any guy who uses the word “quibble” is probably more into badminton or lawn bowling), but you have to be hearing the communal sigh of despair from Giants fans now that Manny Ramirez and the Dodgers have made nice. Of course, $45 million for two years probably qualifies for more than “making nice,” but this is a family website. Now, I must let it be known that I am a Dodger-Blue-bleeding, Vin-Scully-loving Son of Saint Garvey and anytime there are Giants fans moaning and gnashing their teeth, I’m a happy Lasordananian. I would say that with Manny, and despite a very questionable starting rotation, the Dodgers should make mincemeat of a mediocre NL West.
Steve: Imagine how good Manny could be if he didn’t spend so much time working on his hair.
Phil: Have you seen Manny’s hat? A family of four could live in it. His batting helmet has its own zip code! Now, I assume that a pituitary case such as yourself has an interest in basketball, right? We’re coming up on Conference Tournament week with invitations to the Big Dance on the line. My UCLA Bruins are a shoo-in for the NCAA Tourney, but need to win the Pac-10 party to improve their seeding if they expect to reach a fourth-straight Final Four. Word has it that New Mexico is currently “on the bubble.” Isn’t that your team?
Steve: Ach, the Lobos. Woof. I don’t really pay attention to March Madness until the brackets are set. I pick a couple of teams and root for them until they lose, which my rooting seems to guarantee. Often I have no geographical connection to the teams. One year, I rooted for Alabama-Birmingham, despite the fact that I’ve seen Birmingham with my own eyes. I think they made it to the semis before my interest caused them to implode. My lifelong roundball loyalties are to the NBA defending champion Boston Celtics. I feel the same way about Celtic green as you do about Dodger blue, though I try not to bleed any color for any reason. And my favorite NFL team is the Super Bowl champ Pittsburgh Steelers. Life is good.
Phil: Sometimes life is good if you’re a guy. When your team wins, or when your neighbor accidentally blows up his new propane grill. Sometimes, it’s not so good. For example, I’ve found myself in recent weeks accompanying my wife on various shopping trips. Don’t ask me how this happened, I’m sure the promise of a corn dog was involved. Shopping is bad enough, but it seems that I am relegated to “purse holding” while she mysteriously disappears to try on pants or a sweater. Outside of being sent to purchase “feminine products” (which unfailingly necessitates a very loud, attention-grabbing price check), being on “purse duty” is when I feel the most married. It’s very humiliating, mainly because her bag rarely accents my outfit. Oh, the looks I get!
Steve: Boy, I’m feeling macho now. I could stomp a soufflé. Preferably one made with cheese powder.
