Wednesday, 10/6/10 - This Is America

"Vespucci."

"What are we talking about?" Jack was one of those brilliant people that made declarations that to him seemed self evident but to everyone else just seemed like gibberish. If you asked enough questions you could normally bring his orbit close enough for you to get a glimpse of what he was talking about. No guarantees, though.

"Amerigo Vespucci. You asked what he had that we don't."

"He has Amerigo Vespucci? OK, help me out, is that his cologne, his shoes or his hairdresser?" We both watched Nicholai Purtsla - and it was Nicholai, never Nick or Nickie - take command of the room. Yes, he was good looking but not that good looking. Yes, he was wealthy but not that wealthy. So, what was it about him that women found irresistible?

"You don't remember second grade geography?"

"I don't remember lunch. Refresh my memory."

Jack drank the last of his beer and pushed the mug forward on the bar requesting a refill. He pointed to my mug. I drained the dregs and pushed it forward, also.

"Amerigo. Sound familiar?"

"America." I asked it more than said it.

"Very good. Amerigo Vespucci was a trader, navigator and cartographer. He sailed several times to South America after Columbus discovered the new world. Problem at the time was that Columbus didn't know he had found a new continent. Vespucci wrote about discovering a new world, and, when maps were drawn, Americo's name was placed on the new lands. No one questioned it, so it stuck."

The waitress brought two full mugs, set them on coasters in front of us, then swept away the empties."I'm not following you," I said.

"Like Amerigo, your friend Nickie has no claim. He didn't discover and doesn't own. So, rather than just hanging around wondering who owns these fine pieces of real estate, he just stakes his claim and writes his name on it."

"Keep talking," I urged him.

"We sit here looking and wondering if she has a boyfriend or a husband. We work on our lines, practice them in our heads, and wait for the perfect moment to deliver them thinking we will sound casual and cool. Inevitably, we sound jerky and off balance."

He lifted the mug to his mouth, took a hefty swallow then continued, "Our friend, Mr. Purtsla, doesn't think about what he is going to say. He doesn't care if she has a boyfriend or a husband. These things don't matter to him."

"So, what are you suggesting?"

"That we start being a bit more like our friend Nicolai. That we stop looking and start laying claim. Just look around, do you see anyone's name on any of these women?"

The bar is crowded. I look around thinking about what Jack has been saying and wondering if he has a point.

"Well...?"

"Actually, Jack, we don't stand a chance. They all have names on them. She is Aeropostale. That one is Hollister. And there's Pink..."