Rudolph, You Rock. Now Wise Up, Reindeer!

Okay, Rudolph, you've gone down in history with that song of yours. And for what? Selling out! So you were born with a shiny red schnoz and had the misfortune of living in a frozen polar ice cap with no access to a plastic surgeon or electrician. And all those big-antlered reindeer jocks and their patent-leather-hoofed cheerleader girlfriends called you names and shunned you because of it. I know, I know...it hurts to be the last one picked for the volleyball team. Bullying sucks. But, Rudolph, you copped out and allowed those conformist reindeer snobs to welcome you into their clique only after you bailed Santa's ass out of trouble. Man, you should have had more self-respect than that!

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Tolerance, Hairdo Envy, and Bad First Dates: Lessons Learned from Frankie & His Bride

Ah, you always remember your first time. There I was, in a dimly lit room...body tense and trembling under crisp sheets…heartbeat wild in anticipation…breaths short and shallow…spellbound by my first glimpse of something big, scary, and invasive…a spectacle that would excite me for the rest of my life: the 1935 classic, "The Bride of Frankenstein." This cinematic masterpiece introduced me to societal rejection, unrequited love, mob mentality, and the tortured soul of the outcast. It's the grandest monster flick of all time.

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What Motivates Us to Work? For Bruce and Me, It’s ‘Abandonment of the Self’

At a show at New York's legendary Apollo Theater a few months back, Bruce Springsteen joked that he was the "hardest working 'white' man in show business." Bruce made this remark in homage to one of his idols, the late James Brown, the soul-funk sensation long known as the "hardest working man" in the business. James, the Apollo apostle, often performed up to 330 one-night shows per year, in extravagant bop-till-you-drop style. Growing up in extreme poverty may have driven James Brown to work till exhaustion, but what inspired a middle-class white boy from Long Branch, New Jersey, to rock his heart out onstage for four hours, night after night, from beach bars to coliseums? "His love of his fans" is one easy answer. But it goes much deeper than that, as I was reminded after reading a fascinating profile of Bruce in the July 2012 issue of "The New Yorker" magazine.

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