On Nolan’s birthday I made this big, long post reflecting on his life.  Now it’s Will’s 22nd birthday.  But, you know… it’d be pretty unoriginal to do the same thing again.  Right?  Plus, he’s way over in Denmark and I don’t think he reads this blog very often.  

Just in case:  

HAPPY BIRTHDAY WILL!!!!!!!!  

I’ll drink a beer for you tonight and buy you one when you visit New York.  Cool?

About a week ago I almost shaved. I had about ten days worth of growth and it was time. But, naturally, before doing so I decided I should sculpt my beard into something cool to show off for my housemate, Dan. I always forget I have an obligation, with all this facial hair, to make funny beards and mustaches from time to time. But this time I remembered. And then, right away, my mind returned to watching the movie Iron Man.

Before going to see Iron Man I didn’t know who Robert Downey, Jr. was. I mean, I knew the name, but I wouldn’t have recognized him. And I didn’t associate the name with a heart throb until the week before I went to see the movie I heard multiple women talk about how hot he was in Iron Man. I went to the movie, and saw him, and didn’t even recognize him. “That guy?” I thought. “That guy is hot?” He looked pretty average to me. But I did concede, in my head, that he was kinda ripped. And, I thought, that’s a pretty badass goatee. Which, I’m sure, is what women mean when they say he’s hot.

So that badass goatee– the one that turns your average Joe into every woman’s fantasy– was what I thought I would shave my beard into and try to convince Dan I was serious for a few minutes. And then, just before I shaved it, I remembered: Halloween is coming up! For once in my life, I remembered to keep my beard in October for use on Halloween. My default is still going as Iron Man. A little cardboard circle on my chest under a beater, and a faux iron glove along with that goatee would be an easy costume:

I had a short e-mail conversation with some of my former co-workers last week and I told them this idea. One of them, Cathy– a staple thief and eternal naysayer (”Neil, you’re going to hate New York, New York sucks”, “You don’t want to move to California, California is horrible”, “I didn’t believe for a second that you were a Calvin Klein model”)– told me, “You, sir, are no Tony Stark.”

I told my friend, Tracy– a great musician, amazing dancer and wonderful teacher– I was thinking about sculpting my beard and going as Iron Man, and she said, “Oh yeah, you could totally pull it off.”

Damn right.

But the thing is, I don’t really want to be drawing unflattering comparisons to a heart throb on Halloween. You know? I’d rather be just some badass superhero or rock star than another person trying to emulate someone hotter than themself. And there are probably cooler things I could do with my facial hair, too, I just can’t think of them. So I’m opening that discussion: If you have any cool ideas for what can be done with a fairly short, but thick beard– please let me know. Preferably sculpting the beard in some interesting way rather than just using the full thing– I want the sculpting of the beard to be the majority of the work for the costume.

I’ve probably watched fifteen of these Howcast Youtube videos in the past twenty four hours. Some of them are serious and instructional (but still kind of funny) and some of them are just humorous. Most are entertaining, though. Here’s one I liked:

Annoyed by the whole “Joe the Plumber” thing?  Rejoice!  It can’t possibly last much longer…

According to Chris Kantos’s gchat away message, he hearts McCainzilla.  Naturally, I googled “McCainzilla” to find out what he was talking about.  I assume he was referring to this website.  I don’t know this for certain, but I’ve been enjoying the blog.  Thanks, Chris!

A lot of people probably don’t know about my burgeoning modeling career.  It started in June when I was shopping on Newbury Street in Boston and this man slowed down his car next to me.  I kind of slowed down and glanced in the window when I noticed it was rolling down.  I assumed it was somebody in need of directions.

“Hey there!” he said in a really peppy voice.  Isn’t it amazing how you can tell with just two words, sometimes, that a man is gay? 

“Hi,” I said curtly.  Given the pep in his voice I had changed my mind: He was a salesman.  I couldn’t have him thinking I was susceptible to sales pitches. 

“Sorry to bother you,” he said, still peppy but clearly noticing my hesitation.  “I work for Calvin Klein.  We’re looking for models for our next catalogue.  Do you have any experience or interest in modeling?” 

Flattered?  Embarassed?  Guilty that I’d been curt with him?  Hard to pinpoint my reaction.  I could feel myself turning red.  I told him I hadn’t given it much thought. 

“Okay, that’s fine,” he told me.  “Well, I think you have the kind of lean, muscular build we’re looking for and we’re having invite-only auditions on Saturday.  Let me give you a card and if you have any interest, stop by.  It’s good money if you’re chosen.” 

“Okay,” I said, trying to overcompensate for my introduction by being friendly now, “Thanks a lot!” 

He handed me the card.  “All the info is on the card,” he said.  He gave me a big smile.  “I hope to see you Saturday!”

“Yeah,” I said, attempting to be warm, “Me too!” 

Christ.

So, of course, I went to the audition.  They made me take off my shirt and stuff, which I thought was weird since I was going to be modeling t-shirts and what does it matter what I look like beneath them, but I wasn’t going to complain if it might lead to some cash.  After about 20 minutes of making me try on different shirts and stand in different poses, they sent me off and told me they’d let me know by the next morning if they wanted me to come back for the shoot the following week. 

They called me about two hours later.  I was psyched.  They told me not to shave at all that week and that it didn’t matter what I wore since they’d be providing my wardrobe.  The shoot only lasted about five hours in total but they paid me for six.  I didn’t really anticipate anything more to come of it but was satisfied to be $2,400.00 richer and have a couple new t-shirts and a new pair of jeans. 

The catalogue came out at the end of July.  I really liked how my pictures came out.  I got a call from yet another gay man, who said he’d gotten my number from Calvin Klein and he was also interested in working with me.  I told him I was hesitant to pose in the nude, that my family would be ashamed and stuff, but he said Playgirl would pay me a THOUSAND dollars an hour.

The shoot was the following week and he told me to shave every hair on my body below my sideburns. 

Wait, let me backtrack.  I feel like this post was based in fact at one point. 

Oh!  Right.  My modeling career.

It started in the summer of 2007.  One of my dad’s clients was doing business with monster.com, which is based in Massachusetts.  His company was making some internal pamphlets of some sort for Monster, and they needed to shoot at the Monster headquarters in Maynard, MA.  My dad’s client’s company, of course, is based in Minnesota, so they either needed to fly people they knew in Minnesota out to Mass or find people in Massachusetts.  Remembering that my dad had a son in Boston, he asked my dad whether I would be interested and to send a couple pictures if I was. 

I was unemployed at the time.  My mom sent him pictures before even consulting me about it.  The art director for the company said that I would be fine and a couple weeks later I was in Maynard having my picture taken while pretending to talk on the phone.  By that time I had started my job at Harmon, but took the day off to do the shoot.  I co-modeled in a lot of pictures with the art director, a redhead in her mid-thirties who really could have been a model.  They paid me a hundred dollars an hour for four hours, though I was only there for maybe a little over three, and reimbursed me for my seventy dollar taxi ride.  It was kinda cool.  I have never seen the pictures and have little desire to. 

My next stint as a model, which is the reason for this post, came nearly a year later.  My friend, Lianna, needed to take pictures for her website, iamneurotic.  She needed somebody to model in some of them, and I lived a mile away.  I was called in.  Imagine her surprise when she learned that I just happened to be a seasoned model, ready to take her site to the next level.  She must have been thanking her lucky stars for months. 

Lianna’s new website, iamneurotic.com 2.0 if you will, was just released a couple days ago.  You can find the only online example of my amazing modeling work here.