Michael: Fantsy-Pants(less) Role Model

Playing the role as "Michael," are you?

That can be incredibly difficult. Not to mention awkward.

Most would think "Heh! This'll be easy! All I have to do is drop my pants!" or "I'll simply show up ... without pants!" But nothing could be further from the truth. It's not as easy as showing up in a shirt that says "I forgot to bring my pants" you know.

Yes, an important aspect of playing the role of Michael is to do so sans coverings from the waist down. But if it was that easy everyone would be doing it.

The trick is convincing everyone there's a good reason you showed up to the staff meeting without your trousers on. 

There's an explanation for rushing into the restaurant a bit late for the dinner reservation with nothing but a sport jacket and powder blue Fruit Of The Looms.
 
"I'm here to support the groom, pants or no pants and here's why ..."

You see where I'm going with this: The key is in the explanation, in gaining the confidence of your fellow man, as to your supposed lack of below the belt accouterments. It's all about persuasion, making the unbeliever believe.

And here's the kicker: The bigger the story, the more fantastical the tale, the greater gain in points in the game. Bonus: Your fellow contestants depicting their own roles in the contest? They'll be so impressed with your commentary they'll hand out points to you without even being asked. Boom. Win-win.

You see the prize at the end of the line, don't you? That the possibilities are endless. Playing the role of me, Michael, is most satisfying. And freeing.

Comfort, contentment and confidence - all these can be yours if you play the game with savvy.

I Want To Ride My Bicycle

It's great that the guys told you all about our fantastic association with Queen, the most amazing rock band in the history of all things cool, and their influence on our style and vice versa. 

But I would be remiss if I did not relate to you the now-declassified tale of the single greatest day in our Unbelievable lives!

That's right. A day so amazing it would be scorched like a brand onto our collective brains.

It all started when in 1978 Freddie rushed excitedly into the Unbelievabase clutching an advance copy of their new album Jazz. (Remember, this was the 70s, when you could get away with giving your new LP a title that had nothing to do with the record contained therein, such as James Taylor's Greatest Hits or The Best Of Roger Whittaker.) 

"Listen to this!" shouted Fred, putting the record on the Blaupunkt and cranking it to 11.

We were mesmerized. Mesmerized enough to stop what we were up to (a game of Strip Parcheesi, as I recall) and listened to the instant classic that was Jazz.

Still, we could not help but notice the look of worry and concern on Freddie's face. We were curious. What on earth did he have to be anxious about? The album was brilliant, as has been already noted. So we asked him. 

"Why the long face? What's troubling you?"

"Well," he replied, "I'm having a creative block. The first single off of Jazz is gonna be a double-A side, "Bicycle Race" and "Fat Bottomed Girls" but I have absolutely no idea how to promote it. I mean, listen to those songs. Those songs ROCK OUT LOUD! They are guaranteed KILLERS! But the record-buying public is fickle. They'll buy anything the DJs tell them to. How else do you explain Clive Dunn's "Grandad" going to Number One?"

"Good point" quoth I.

"Trouble is, I need something so amazing, so shocking, so memorable that it'll be a shoo-in for sure... but what??"

"So you thought you'd pop in and pick our brains, eh?" interjected Clark, in a perplexing Canadian accent he was trying to perfect for some oddball reason (turns out he had had a brief fling with a Canadian air hostess, and was probably hoping to repeat the process).

Freddie was slightly embarrassed. "Um, er... yeah."

"Well, why didn't you say so!!" Michael and I cheered in unison. We were already two steps ahead. 

"Leave it to us, Freddie. We'll get this sorted in no time." I reassured him.

Clark leapt to his feet and fetched us all a beer. "BREWSKIES, EH!?!" he declared.

For once, we let it slide. 

So... a few phone calls to the Unbelievababes, to Marissa and Laura, several bike shops in London, a few top photographers and Wembley Stadium later, we had it all arranged.

I think you know where this is all going.

The Unbelievababes, with Laura and Marissa somewhere in there.

Marla and Trixie won top prize! (For what, I'm not sure).

We all got to spend the day in London watching the Unbelievababes ride around naked on bicycles!! Oh. My. God. We were in hog heaven - especially Michael, who spends most of his life getting naked anyway. It was so much fun, and such a success that they incorporated the shoot into the video.





Queen - Bicycle Race by Leo59

Not only that, but sometimes the Unbelievababes were drafted in to participate in live shows when the band were playing the song.

So there you have it. 

We've done a lot of fun stuff in our lives, but a day spent watching naked girls on bikes in the company of the greatest rock band in the world, as well as my two amazing crimefighting compadres, takes some licking. 

But that's another story...

I get my kicks above the waistline, sunshine

Does anybody else think it's odd that Michael wrote about pants on Monday, considering how many of his favorite adventures occur sans pantaloons? No? Okay then.
Ah yes, clothing. Clothing for our good friends who make up the spirited rock combo known and adored as Queen. As Michael mentioned, we're good pals with those fellow and have been for some time. Quite a while before they broke though into the big time, actually. It should come as no big surprise that some of our influence would rub off on them. And while a good set of trousers is a wonderful thing, I'm more of a jacket man myself.
Often, when we'd have a party, Queen's lead crooner Freddie would offer to help park cars. As an up-and-coming musician, he was frequently light on scratch and the tips he got provided some much-needed 'walking around' money. He wasn't an employee, just a friend that we were happy to help by putting him to work. One night before one of our larger soirees, he came over early, as he often did because he could get in a quick game of squash with us before the evening's activities got underway. But on this particular day, he didn't feel like playing. He was pretty down and lamenting his lack of a signature 'look'. "I'm very comfortable performing in this white pants and tank top get-up", he said. "But I look like a house painter. That's not exactly rock n roll and definitely now what I'm going for, really." "I've always thought of you as more like a circus acrobat from the 1920's", I offered helpfully. "Honestly, when you perform, I don't know whether to hold up a lighter or shoot you out of a cannon." I suggested that he combine the outfit he already wore for comfort and combine it with a stylish, flashy jacket of some sort. He and I spent the next couple of hours brainstorming...

"A classic, of course, but it's been done"



"And re-done"



"Nah, too studded"

"Nah, too zipper-y"

"Nah, way too big."

Freddie was really down now. He sighed heavily and said, "Well, let me get out to the car park booth. Guests will be arriving soon." I stopped him before he trudged out the door. "Wait, Freddie", I said. "Safety first!", and I handed him the standard-issue yellow slicker that we required all of our parking attendants to wear.

Freddie suddenly got a big smile on his face and bounded out the door. I'd never seen him so excited about safety!
Oddly, he didn't stick around long enough that night to park a single car, but shortly after that, good things started to happen for the band. So that worked out nicely.

Roger: Tailored.

You know ... we don't necessarily like to brag.

(Okay ... we do ... sometimes.)

But certain instances require we brag once in a while. Doing so has its merits and sheds light for the benefit of all.

You've seen us post letters regarding the annals of The Unbelievables. And you know we get various requests (some legitimate occasionally) and quite a few questions, too. One recent question put a smile to my face. The back story involved with it is quite, well ... unbelievable. And it involves a little bragging.

A personal question came at me from D I-ngo Serra just the other day (yes ... that D I-ngo Serra) accompanied with a photo:

"Do the Unbelievables have a rock slacks rack? They don't tailor'em like this any more!"

Queen are: (l to r) John Deacon, Roger Taylor, Brian May and Freddie Mercury

Yes ... that's Queen, the rock band. Our good friends Queen, as a matter of fact. Our good friends Queen who The Unbelievables - fashionable gents that we are as luck would have it - had everything to do with the band's signature style sense. (I told you there was some bragging involved.)

So ... let me circle back to the question du jour: "Do the Unbelievables have a rock slacks rack?"

You better believe it.

I'll let you ponder that admission for a bit before Clark and Jeff chime in later this week and tell you all about "that rack" and our association with the band.