mullet like me

camaro rescue mission part 2. i get my baby back.

Sat, 21 Nov 2009 11:49:47 -0500

camaro rescue mission part 2. i get my baby back.

in the hotel bar there was a wall of notable guests. i stood...

Mon, 16 Nov 2009 11:04:29 -0500

in the hotel bar there was a wall of notable guests. i stood next to it, dreaming of the day a mulleted american makes the cut.

breaking barriers on a fall afternoon...

Mon, 16 Nov 2009 11:03:00 -0500

with a gorgeous fall day on tap, i was inspired to coax the camaro out of hiding* and remind her who is boss (me).

after about ten minutes and a dozen different expletives, she started — coughing a cloud of black discharge into the alleyway. i pulled away noisily and flipped off my neighbors through the t-top above my head as i rolled by.

i hit a stoplight and took a moment to dig around under the seats for some halen to accompany my cruise. the second said light turned green a well-groomed man in a german import behind me honked impatiently.

i waited a moment for him to lay on his horn again. he did. i then stomped on the gas — hard — fishtailing away from the hurried elitist whose beamer was now enveloped in a plume of my thunder.

who does that loser think he is? — i asked myself as ‘beautiful girls’ hit the first chorus — why does he think the world should work differently for him than me? there’s nothing he can do that i can’t!

to prove this point i decided to proceed directly to the most exclusive hotel in town and valet park my camaro. when i got there i threw left her running, halen blaring, and motioned toward the doorman.

“be good to this sucker” — i shouted as i headed for the bar.

“pardon me, sir.” — he stopped me and asked how long i would be parking. i said i was stopping in for a cocktail in their bar so, who knows? an hour? seven? three weeks?

he then handed me a valet ticket that referred to me as a “transient guest” — seriously?

“i have a home…” i muttered as i walked past mr. top hat through the door.

inside the bar i heard a loud clicking sound and people shouting…

“ribeye! ribeye!”

“turkey leg!”

“lobster tail, baby!”

“rack of lamb, rack of lamb!”

what the…?

after getting my bearings i realized what was taking place in this fabled establishment — a MEAT RAFFLE! the preferred game of chance of mulleted americans everywhere!

and to think, a moment earlier they assumed i was a transient… perhaps their meat raffle would have been an even bigger hit if they had a sign outside: “transients welcome”

-bifpib-

* yes, i have the car back. look for part 2 of the camaro rescue mission video this week.

this photo, taken by a creepy stranger, made its way into my...

Fri, 23 Oct 2009 14:36:00 -0400

this photo, taken by a creepy stranger, made its way into my hands.

mullet in the stands

Fri, 23 Oct 2009 14:34:00 -0400

you’d think a ballgame would be a safe place to bring a mullet — you’d be wrong.

over the course of this nearly six month old experiment i’ve attended plenty of sporting events and the results have been, well, troubling.

despite trails blazed by mulleted sportsmen like brian bosworth, john kruk and 92% of those who’ve ever laced up hockey skates, it seems that fans just can’t abide a mulleted american in the stands.

proof? when i stood to cheer at a recent baseball game a chant emerged from behind me. at first i thought they were yelling “punt it!!” which seemed odd, because that happens in football. but soon the crowd’s voice grew louder and clearer…

“MULL-ET! MULL-ET! MULL-ET!”

i tried to ignore them and keep cheering. but the inning ended. and they kept chanting.

i sat down. they chanted.

i stood back up after a moment to adjust my underpants. they chanted.

i sat back down. they chanted.

i walked up the long staircase to freshen my beverage. they chanted.

this continued for most of the night and represents a pattern emerging from all stadium experience i’ve had with this haircut — no matter the city, no matter the sport.

the icing on my baseball-shaped pariah cake was delivered by an email i received a day or two after the game. apparently my friend recognized me in a photo taken at the same game by a complete stranger. the photo, which was posted online, had the following caption:

“MULLET… it was GROSS”

gross? you know what’s gross? mocking a stranger from behind the safety of your lens. that’s gross.

you think any of you scare me? i will not stop cheering. i will not back down. i will not cut my hair.

at least not today.

-BIFPIB-

update

Thu, 01 Oct 2009 20:22:46 -0400

it’s been an unruly stretch of growth for my hair — so much so that i’ve been emotionally overcome by its grandeur, unable to write (much less finish the story of how I got the camaro back) as the tears of joy running down my cheeks would surely blur the ink from this fountain pen…

it’s also possible i’ve been busy with “real” work…

(check back soon)

part one of my camaro rescue mission

Fri, 28 Aug 2009 00:25:00 -0400

part one of my camaro rescue mission

URGENT — my camaro has been stolen!

Wed, 26 Aug 2009 12:35:00 -0400

today is the day i was supposed to enjoy free papa john’s pizza as a reward for owning a camaro — the 85 camaro you helped me buy to benefit goodwill / easter seals.

instead, i awoke to discover that my camaro has been stolen…

this affects all of us — mulleted and non-mulleted alike.

stay tuned……

-BIFPIB-

credential in hand.

Tue, 18 Aug 2009 15:50:08 -0400

credential in hand.

mullet mission: PGA championship

Tue, 18 Aug 2009 15:48:00 -0400

it’s not every day a major golf championship takes place in your backyard. it’s also not every day that someone with a raging mullet is able to attend… enjoy!

event: opening round of 2009 PGA championship

location: hazeltine golf club, chaska, MN

attire: jack daniel’s t-shirt with sleeves cut off, cheap sunglasses, shorts and mullet.

over the course of my experiment — now entering its fourth month if you’re scoring at home (and if you are scoring at home, congratulations!) — i’ve crashed a good number of classy places and events most mulleted americans would steer clear of. lexus dealerships, high-end groceries, a yacht club wedding and many more — but nothing could have prepared me for the level of class, excess and mulletism i was about to encounter at the PGA Championship.

——-

as i finish cutting the second sleeve away from a jack daniel’s shirt i glance down at the PGA championship pass on my dresser. it’s a credential that will allow me to access the grounds, as well as something called “the wanamaker club” — which, i will discover, is an exclusive hangout for special people with fancy golf shirts and kids they name “tanner,” “kellen” or “britannica.”

hosting an event like the PGA is a huge undertaking for the chaska area — miles of organized chaos, including an elaborate system of park and ride lots. i arrive at one of them (not in my camaro, as I didn’t want to risk carbon monoxide poisoning before the big event) and proceed to the line for the shuttles. i catch a glimpse of my mullet in a car window. it is shimmering in the early morning sun. glorious.

once aboard the shuttle bus i attempt to pump myself up, hoping others will get into it as well.

“get in the hole!”

i yell, as the bus begins to fill. nobody responds.

“get in the hole!”

i shout again, a little louder this time. a young child snickers and his father instructs him to ignore me. i shrug off the group’s indifference as sleepiness and face the front of the bus once more, sliding close to the window to make room for someone else. the bus doors finally close. my seat is the only one without two ocupants. we pull away.

over the course of the bus ride i gaze out the windows with a look of wonderment, as if i’ve never seen anything I am looking at before. this is a key tactic i will employ numerous times throughout the day.

we arrive at the tournament. during the security sweep i ask the man scanning me if we’re supposed to check our guns, motioning toward my pasty white biceps. he doesn’t respond.

the huge grounds teem with all kinds of stimuli. i am clearly the most underdressed person here, but my air-conditioned shirt is affording me the last laugh as i observe throngs of golf posers in already-sweat-soaked polo shirts. it’s about 11 am. i need a beer.

my cold MGD proves a costly, yet delicious prop (one i will repeatedly refill over the next 9 hours). time to watch some golf.

it just so happens that i am right next to the first fairway as tiger woods is teeing off. this puts me about 100 paces ahead of the so-called ‘tiger army’ — a flock of about five thousand people that will follow him everywhere for the next four days as if he were Jesus. i find myself wondering if some of them will even join him in the john (this is the type of existential query that doesn’t cross your mind until you have a mullet).

because of the crowds i realize this may be my only great glimpse of tiger all day. i grab a spot along the rope just as his drive comes to a rolling stop about forty yards beyond me. i am now at the front of a gallery ten deep along the ropes. i have no doubt my hair is blocking the view of at least four of them. no matter, i stand tall because this is my chance — i am going to shout something at the greatest golfer in history — the most famous athlete in the world — the great tiger woods… but what should I say?

the moment of truth approaches as tiger marches toward me. he looks more like some sort of golf robot than a human… absolutely jacked (I’m SURE security would have asked him to check his guns). i find myself torn between “hey tiger your wife is hot!!” and “touch my mullet, tiger!” i decide to go with the latter, figuring he probably hears it less often. this is it…

“hey tiger, want to touch my mullet??”

he doesn’t look up. i know he hears me, but he doesn’t look up.

what if he had? what if he had turned his head and looked? what if my racing stripes had caught his eye and, in that moment, he considered the plight of the mulleted — remembering that he, too, knows what it’s like to push and trailblaze your way through discrimination… what if?

the more i think about it, the more i realize that tiger woods would be the perfect poster child for the equality movement among mulleted americans. as a truly multi-racial public figure he’s already done so much for so many… if he could add a mullet to the mix it would surely prompt our cause into the public eye (and allow nike to tap into a whole new market — the sleeveless golf shirt).

i make a mental note to get in touch with tiger’s people about the matter. for now, he has to finish the hole and i’ve got a bratwurst to locate.

——-

Stay Tuned for PGA Championship: Part 2

-BIFPIB-

This is my new baby. She sings. She also pops, knocks and reeks...

Wed, 22 Jul 2009 18:30:00 -0400

This is my new baby. She sings. She also pops, knocks and reeks of manhood and gasoline. Much more to come…….

the 'maro

Mon, 20 Jul 2009 10:27:06 -0400

i purchased a camaro. it’s glorious. much more to come. just wanted to check in and let you know that everyone is healthy.

camaro drive — final day, big surprise!

Tue, 14 Jul 2009 09:30:14 -0400

today is the last day we’ll be accepting donations toward the purchase of an eighties camaro and there’s a big BIFPIB surprise in store…

first off, i want to thank everyone who has helped out so far. we’ve had contributions ranging from $1 to hundreds. kudos! because of your help we’ll be giving a camaro to goodwill’s car donation program once i cut my mullet.

now for the surprise…

donate at least $20 today and you could meet jared allen!

you read that right, kids. the man with the most attractive hair in the NFL has agreed to get involved and help us finish strong. one lucky winner will ride with me in the camaro* to meet & greet jared allen for a mulletastic photo op**

whether you’re a fan of the vikings, mullets or both… this is the day to donate.

click the ChipIn button to add your name to the hat!

of course there’s lots more fun to come once i buy the car — including a video of the purchase — but today is all about a huge finish. spread the word!

-BIFPIB-

* winner must enjoy van halen

** date & time of jared allen meet & greet TBD

left to right: winery 1 & 2. i loved burying my nose in the...

Mon, 13 Jul 2009 13:45:18 -0400

left to right: winery 1 & 2. i loved burying my nose in the fancy glass but their wine tasted like rotten grape juice.

a tale of two tastings...

Mon, 13 Jul 2009 13:43:36 -0400

i just returned from a lovely weekend in door county — the cape cod of the midwest. wisconsin’s peninsula is filled with big money, big yachts, fancy boating shoes and — at least for a day — one really thirsty mulleted american looking for free wine tastings.

the county is dotted with many wineries. i chose two of them for my mission… one that was a bit more high end by reputation and another that featured a large cherry with arms and legs and an american flag waving at passing traffic.

let’s start with the first winery…

——-

i walk into the lobby. there are lots of fancy people in khakis and aforementioned boat shoes milling around. they are talking about and smelling wine. some of them are also smelling each other. i made that last part up. but i bet they want to.

i am wearing shades and an orange freedom shirt. sans sleeves.

‘can i help you?’ a woman who looks official asks.

‘i’m here for the free tasting,’ i fire back and smile playfully.

‘our tasting is not free. it costs $5 and you get to keep the glass’

i angrily pull a soggy five out of my shorts and hand it across the counter.

‘what would you like to start with?’ she shows me a list with about 30 of their wines on it.

‘which is the most rockin’ one?’ i ask casually.

‘most rockin?’ she looks confused.

‘yeah… a good rockin’ sweet one…’ i peer at her over my glasses.

‘a rockin sweet one, huh?’ she suggests a riesling.

i point to the merlot.

‘i’ll try the merlot’ (deliberately mispronounced ‘mer-lott’)

‘that’s not very sweet…’ she’s losing patience.

‘i like the name.’ i cut her off and smile at some other tasters to my right.

i try the merlot. i make a face and tell her it tastes kinda weird. ‘like rotten grape juice or something…’ it continues like this. more big reds. more butchered pronunciations. me complaining about the wines and asking if they have something more like blue raspberry boone’s farm. i tell her i want to pair it with a brat.

one sample left. i decide to finish with port. she tells me i will like the sweeter notes. i slam the small splash she pours and ask the woman to my right if she has tried the ‘zinFANdel’ port yet. she doesn’t respond. i belch and leave the winery without buying anything.

outside i toss my glass into a wastebasket right next to a sign that reads, ‘grapes are for wines, cherries are for pie… if you’re looking for cherry wine you’ve come to the wrong place’

i’ll say.

——-

winery number two was much more my speed. instead of old grapes, the wines there tasted like kool aid with a nice kick. and they had way better flavors with fun names like ‘sunset splash,’ ‘mad about mango’ and ‘razzle dazzle raspberry’… i loved it!

and the best part? free tasting. unlimited samples.

i stood there taking rip after rip, happy as a clam and glad to see i wasn’t the only one wearing a shirt with no sleeves.

i guess now we know which winery on the so-called ‘pleasure peninsula’ is more interested in fostering a culture of hospitality toward mulleted americans, don’t we?

-BIFPIB-

this sucker is for sale in northeastern wisconsin. but is it...

Fri, 03 Jul 2009 13:00:38 -0400

this sucker is for sale in northeastern wisconsin. but is it street legal? (and should i even care?)

update

Fri, 03 Jul 2009 12:58:00 -0400

it’s been a busy couple weeks in BIFPIB land… i went on a mission to buy product at a high-end hair academy that i will be blogging about soon. i also took my test drive with tom peters and the video has already been viewed over 5,000 times. pretty righteous! (who knew people could stare at a mulleted american on screen for a full 3 minutes?)

as you know, the test drive became possible because i haven’t stopped talking about camaros — namely my quest to buy, drive and donate a mid-eighties camaro to goodwill. great news on that front… thanks to a handful of generous new donors we’re over $1300 and still pushing toward the $2500 goal!

i had originally intended to end the camaro drive on july 4th, but since i won’t be free to go shopping for another week or so, we’re extending it through july 14th.

and that’s it. at midnight on the 15th i will close the books and begin shopping in earnest with whatever we’ve raised. i can tell you that there are some gems out there that i can’t wait to share with the world.

and you can help…

join me in the incredibly addictive and rewarding act of scouring the web for 82-88 camaros!

my criteria are as follows:

- runs (and is located within 300 miles of minneapolis)

- has t-tops

- has a tape deck or CD player

- is priced in the ballpark of what we’ve raised (check ChipIn widget)

i am sure camaro shopping will be on the top of your priority list between now and the 15th. happy hunting & email your gems to mulletlikeme@gmail.com so i can share the best ones on the blog.

also — stay tuned for a very special 4th of july weekend blog devoted to mullets and america and fireworks and mullets. and america.

-BIFPIB-

here’s a better-looking HD version of my camaro test...

Mon, 29 Jun 2009 13:16:06 -0400

here’s a better-looking HD version of my camaro test drive. pass it along!

last week i took a ride with tom peters - designer of the 2010...

Tue, 23 Jun 2009 18:48:00 -0400

last week i took a ride with tom peters - designer of the 2010 camaro. enjoy!

the 2010 camaro: bridging the gap

Tue, 23 Jun 2009 18:47:31 -0400

a few days ago i had the pleasure of meeting tom peters, lead designer of the 2010 chevrolet camaro. tom’s baby - the fifth iteration of the camaro - does the name proud.

not only does the 2010 make up for the unsightly fourth generation (often referred to as ‘the mullet of camaros’ by mulletistic car enthusiasts) but it represents a sleek, stylish olive branch in the direction of people who said they’d never drive a camaro.

does this mean tom and his team jettisoned the BIFPIB attitude that made eighties camaros a fixture outside the trailers of many mulleted americans? not at all. rather, the 2010 brings it back — bridging the gap between mulleted and non-mulleted car buyers.

a truly progressive car in every sense of the word.

tom was a treat to talk with. a true mullet sympathizer. in fact, it turns out that he had a mullet some years back. no joke. he’s asked for updates on the progress of our goodwill camaro drive and will come shopping with me if we raise enough! he’ll even drive me to buy the 1985 in a new 2010 and autograph the old one before goodwill auctions it off. far out, huh?

as for t-tops… i was informed by tom that america has ‘moved past that’… (sigh)

-BIFPIB-