Top 5 Ways That I Judge People

Judging

"Judge not, lest ye be judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you."
--Matthew, Ch. 7, v. 1-2.

Elvis is in everybody out there.
Everybody's got Elvis in them!
Everybody except one person that is...
Yeah, one person!
The evil opposite of Elvis.
The Anti-Elvis
Anti-Elvis got no Elvis in 'em,
lemme tell ya.

Michael J. Fox has no Elvis in him.

--Mojo Nixon, "Elvis Is Everywhere"

I think the next Top 5 (Geez, will this ever end?) topic involved top 5 things that annoy me. Aside from being a drag, man (for some reason, I talk like Sammy Davis, Jr., true story), I'm not sure how to limit my list to just five. The complete "annoys me" list resembles the phone book (kids, there used to be these big huge books that had everyone's phone numbers listed alphabetically, oh never mind). I'm either easily annoyed, or life has gotten more annoying. Probs both. But really, how would that discussion help any of you? Which is what I'm here for. Plus, I can't think of a way that it wouldn't sound like an Andy Rooney piece. "You know what bugs me? Absentee voting. Why can't everyone vote on Election Day like they're supposed to?"

So I'm invoking Executive Privilege to change topics. To something way happier. Top 5 Ways that I Judge People. Yeah, I know, "judge not..." Whatevs. I judge. So do you. So does everyone. We all judge. That is, we all form opinions and beliefs about other people. "You can't trust him." "He's classless." "That guy's smart." "She's conceited." Right? You don't necessarily even form these opinions to condemn someone, you just get to know another person and can't help but assign them a "personality profile," E-Harmony style. We can't all hang out with all the other people in the world all the time. We have to limit those with whom we associate. With whom we do business. Whom we admit into in the Circle of Trust.

Because, you know, if you absolutely do not judge anyone, you'll hang around with drug dealers and child molesters and Senators. Real mother stabbers and father rapers. Then people will assume you're part of that element. Or some of the father stabbers will go after you. Or turn you into a father stabber. I know, this is making no sense. Suffice to say, we can evaluate people and decide whom to spend our precious time and reputation on, without necessarily condemning them with judgment.

Yeah, nice spin!

The Bible says not to judge others because ultimately you will be judged, by the same standards you use to judge others. If you do decide to judge others, you better watch how you do it. Your standards will come back to haunt. But in my case, that's totally alright. I'm perfectly willing to live by the standards I use to "judge" (a/k/a "evaluate") others. Now, I'm leaving out the more obvious ways I judge people, like whether they tell the truth, whether they're intelligent, or kind, or loyal. I have some other ways I size up the other humans, which aren't so obvious. To wit....

The Top 5 Ways That I Judge People:

Steve Sax

5. How you throw a ball. Have you ever grimaced in agony as someone, especially a guy, takes hold of a baseball or football, and instead of raring back and throwing, does one of those Raggedy Ann, limp-arm, half shot put toss and half fly swat arm motions? You know. Steve Sax. Its horrible. I see that happen, and whether a man or a woman, I instinctively cringe. Look, everyone should be able to throw a ball. Here's the list of people who legitimately can't: quadriplegics, double arm amputees, people receiving chemo, and Alzheimer's or ALS victims. Everyone else should be able to pull off that rudimentary motion. Especially all Americans, who should all manage to perform the most basic motion in our national game(s). If you can't throw a ball through the air without looking like Bieber protecting his girlish purity against  Jenny McCarthy's wanton advances, then I have absolutely no use for you.

She's a beaut, Clark

4. Your car. You are who you roll with, and you are what you drive. If you drive a '69 Vette, you're a different kind of person that someone who drives a Chrysler mini-van. One of those cars says "Baller," while the other says "Loser." I covered this in Top 5 Cars. If you voluntarily drive some ridiculous, dowdy, Genericmobile, you deserve scorn, not praise for being practical or fuel-efficient. I once rented a car at the San Francisco airport, but the rental place had only one car left on the lot: a purple Ford Probe. A Probe would have been bad enough, but purple? I looked like I was driving an eggplant in that year's Pride Parade. Which, exactly, I looked like that. Because I was driving that car. I pulled up to a busy crosswalk in the city and two exceptionally attractive young women looked at my car and started laughing as they pointed at it. NOT a Baller moment. Which I've more than made up for since then. Signed, drives an M3. Obvs. But still. Leave your Yugo in the garage and take the bus, dude. Ride in style or stay home.

Elvis in 1970, Houston Astrodome

3. Do you have any Elvis? OK, look, how did the King live his life? Carefree, that's how. Having fun. Taking Care of Business. Finding some calm and joy in every situation. Breaking into song right before the big car race. Keeping Mary Tyler Moore from becoming a nun. Organizing a prison dance-off. Being the first rocker ever to get the band back together and go unplugged. Going through life with a twinkle in his eye. Lovin' the ladies. Driving big Caddies and giving them away to unsuspecting admirers. Inventing Rockabilly. Saving Vegas from bankruptcy. Selling out six shows at the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo, at the Astrodome.  Everyone should have at least a little Elvis in them.  Otherwise, you lack any flair. Any spark. Any style. You just line up every day for drear and drudge and dull. You can't find at least a little flavor in what otherwise could be a miserable existence. Who needs you? Life's already enough of a slog through the marsh without these automatons making things more miserable. 

2. Are you curious? Have you ever met anyone with no opinions on anything? Who does the same thing, every day, over and over and over and over...and over? Who hasn't read a new book since high school? Doesn't know who's the Secretary of State? Hasn't been more than 200 miles from home in 10 years (except maybe for work, where they just stayed at the Days Inn and ate at Denny's and Olive Garden)? Takes the exact same vacation every year (a week at the Sundowner Guest Suites at Galveston-days at the beach, nights at whatever restaurant has coupons). Yeah, and won't go to any restaurant that's not a chain, because, they might not like it? Has never watched public TV (except for Sesame Street).  And yet, these door stops seem to know every disgusting little detail about the Kardashians. You, and your Bed, Bath, and Beyond/Chili's lifestyle can keep on going down the road (the freeway, natch, you would never go the scenic route), because our paths ain't gonna cross anytime soon. Except by accident.

Bum Phillips, Luv Ya Blue rally, 1980

1. Do you follow or play sports? And not soccer or cricket or hurling or gymnastics. A real sport. Kenny Powers once said, "I play real sports. I'm not trying to be the best at exercising." The ancient Greeks (not their euro killing, bloated entitlement state having, tax avoiding decendents) celebrated sport as representing an idealized version of man. Athletes commanded respect and admiration, and the games were held to honor the gods. Sports were thought a mark of their advanced society, distinguishing them from more savage cultures. Yeah, I know, they didn't have xBox or home theaters or Guinness Stout or Camaros or any of the other cool stuff we have today that's not sports. But we still have competition. And we still have bodies that move through space. Sports teach invaluable life lessons. Sports display "the competitive urge at its finest." Sports provide supreme drama. Sports showcase unimaginable athletic feats. And sports can forge connections between huge communities. Among a university, a city, a state, even a country. "Raider Nation." "Titletown." "Death Valley." Chants of "USA! USA! USA!" or "TEXAS!! FIGHT!!" or even that ridiculous "WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO PIG SOOEY!!!" Sports break down class and cultural barriers. Janitors and CEOs alike can connect by talking about the local team's pennant chase or upcoming playoff game. Arguably the single most memorable event in Houston history was the second "Luv Ya Blue" rally at the Astrodome, attended live by 70,000 fans and seen on TV by just about every other Houstonian. The '70s Oilers brought that city together. Unlike life, sports has clear cut winners and losers (I object to soccer in large part because games can end in zero to zero ties; its not really a game if no one scores, and because they flop), merit always prevails over every other attribute, and sports provide an opportunity to pit your best directly against someone else's. No muddled, waiting for someone to get back to me about a deal issues here. How anyone can go through life oblivious to great games, to intense competition, to the grace, strength, and beauty of athletic performance, and to your community's rallying cry, completely escapes me. That's not someone I care to know.

Honorable Mention. I won't trust a man who doesn't like Patsy Cline.

NEXT-Top 5 Worst Jobs. Don't worry, we're almost done with Top 5's. Although I don't know what will take its place.