Ahoy, me hearties! This be yer old pirate pal, Captain Gizmo, or Pirate Claus as I'm known time time o' year. I've recorded some o' me favorite Pirate Carols for yer listenin' pleasure. Enjoy, or ye'll be feelin' me cutlass!
O Tavern Wench
O Tavern Wench
O Tavern Wench
How lovely are your glasses
O Tavern Wench
O Tavern Wench
You’re prettiest of lasses
Ye bring me ale,
Ye bring me grub
Ye smack me when
Your rear I rub.
O Tavern Wench
O Tavern Wench
How lovely are your glasses
O Tavern Wench
O Tavern Wench
I’ll bring ye lots o’ plunder
O Tavern Wench
O Tavern Wench
Don’t send my heart asunder
Ye fit so nicely on me lap
Come give me face a playful slap.
O Tavern Wench
O Tavern Wench
I’ll bring ye lots o’ plunder
I Sank Three Ships On Christmas Day
I sank three ships on Christmas day,
on Christmas day, on Christmas day,
I sank three ships on Christmas day,
on Christmas day in the morning.
And what was in their holds all three
on Christmas day, on Christmas day
And what was in their holds all three
on Christmas day in the morning
Gold doubloons and pretty jewels,
on Christmas day, on Christmas day
Gold doubloons and pretty jewels,
on Christmas day in the morning.
God Rest Ye Merry, Pirate Lads
God Rest Ye Merry, Pirate Lads
We’re plunderin’ this day.
We’ll soon be rich and spend it all,
‘cause that’s the pirate way.
We’ll sail the seas and hoist the jib,
And try ter to fill our hold
With coins made of silver and gold, silver and gold
With coins made of silver and gold.
God Rest Ye Merry, Pirate Lads
There’s rum for all the crew!
Bang your cup upon the plank
And ye will get your due.
For Christmas on a pirate ship
Means hangover by morn
Oh I shouldna had that last spot o’ rum, spot o’ rum
I shouldna had that last spot o’ rum!
God Rest Ye Merry, Pirate Lads
There’s a ship just off the bow!
Prepare the cannons fore and aft,
‘Cause it is our ship now.
A pirate’s life is full of fights,
We laugh when cannons roar.
Let us plunder a wee bit more, a wee bit more
Let us plunder a wee bit more
December 23, 2008
December 02, 2008
NaNoWriMo 2008... Mission Accomplished!
Now that December is here and NaNoWriMo 2008 is over I can happily announce that I was able to complete my novel by the end of November. In fact I was able to write "THE END" on the afternoon of the 29th, with a final word count of 70,028.This has been a wonderful experience. I drank large amounts of coffee and listened to hours of music as I wrote. I am still shocked at how many words I was able to write in such a short time. My previous best was the 40,000 word novella that I wrote over a 4-5 year time span. Now in 29 days I wrote more than one and a half times that amount!
I did not have the entire novel mapped out when I started. I had a "Luke Skywalker finds out his father was a Jedi knight when his aunt and uncle are killed, so he leaves with Ben Kenobi to fight the Empire and Darth Vader, and in the end blows up a moon that is really a space station" kind of plot summary in mind before I started. I had written a paragraph describing each of the first six chapters, but the rest just came as I pressed keys on my keyboard.
I have learned some great lessons from NaNoWriMo. I now know from personal experience that it is possible to create a long work in a relatively short time. I have learned that if I put a little time into it every day, I can get a lot written. I intend to take both of these lessons with me as I leave NaNoWriMo 2008 behind.
I have taken the last couple of days off of writing, and it has felt strange to not brew a pot of coffee in the morning and write a thousand words or so before my morning shower. I think it won't be long before I'm back at the keyboard writing something new. I've got a backlog of ideas I've accumulated over the years, and now that I know I can get them out of my head relatively quickly my fingers are itching to do so.
My next project is to return to my novella and do some more polishing. My editor tells me I have some chapters to re-write, and I have a couple of ideas of some new places I can take my characters. I suspect when I'm done with that it will pass over the 50,000 word mark and become a novel as well. Once that work is done I will start podcasting it, but that's another blog entry. In a month or two I plan to return to my NaNoWriMo novel to start editing it.
I can easily see participating in NaNoWriMo again, although I'm not sure I'd want to do it every year. I sometimes wonder if this experience was a bit of a fluke, as I didn't have any major writer's block or other work-stopping issues along the way. I just wrote daily and sometimes felt things were going a bit too easy for me. The story seemed to flow from my fingers, and when I was nearing the end of what was in my head the next bit would just come to me when I was in the shower, driving to work, or wherever. Because of that I would like to do NaNoWriMo again some day to see if I can duplicate my success.
But for now I am very happy that I was able to reach safe harbor on the Viking ship that was NaNoWriMo 2008. If nothing else I'll be able to tell my grandchildren some day that I wrote a complete novel in a month, and then I'll slip out my false teeth and scare them half to death. I can hardly wait.
November 20, 2008
50,000 Words
As you may know from my NaNoWriMo post I have been working hard this month to meet the goal of writing a complete novel of at least 50,000 words by November 30th. I started at midnight on November 1st, and have written at least 1,667 words a day. Most days I have written in excess of 2,000 words, and on a few I have produced more than that.
Today I am reaping the results of that labor. My total word count after today's writing is 51,376. In the parlance of NaNoWriMo, I have "won" by reaching the 50,000 word goal.
The bad news is that the story is not done. This is not really bad, because I don't feel like stopping. My goal now is to finish the novel by the end of the month, and I think I'll meet that. If not, I'll just keep going until I can write "The End" on the last page.
So stay tuned, and I'll update again when I reach the next milestone on my novel: Finishing it.
Today I am reaping the results of that labor. My total word count after today's writing is 51,376. In the parlance of NaNoWriMo, I have "won" by reaching the 50,000 word goal.
The bad news is that the story is not done. This is not really bad, because I don't feel like stopping. My goal now is to finish the novel by the end of the month, and I think I'll meet that. If not, I'll just keep going until I can write "The End" on the last page.
So stay tuned, and I'll update again when I reach the next milestone on my novel: Finishing it.
November 03, 2008
NaNoWriMo Horror Story - Day 1
Here I was starting on this 30-day adventure to write a 50,000 word novel when disaster struck. On the first day. It was horrible and painful, and lessons were learned from it. Let me start at the beginning...
I stayed up Friday night to start writing at midnight. I wrote for two hours and got 1700 words done. I went to bed feeling good about my progress. The next day I continued to work on it throughout the day an hour or two at a time. I had set a goal of writing 5000 words that day, so I kept at it with breaks for college football and yard work. By mid-afternoon I was about half way to my goal. Always one to save my work often, I connected my PDA to my computer and saved my changes with about 2600 words written.
Let me pause the story here to tell you what I am writing this novel on. I am using my Palm Z22 PDA, my Palm keyboard, and word processing software called WordSmith. At the time I was using the trial version of the software, but I had paid for the full version and was only waiting for my registration code to arrive via e-mail. With this software I can write on my PDA and then have what I've written in a Word document on my PC when I go through the sync process.
Later that night I stopped at 9:30 with 5100 words written. I was very pleased that I had exceeded my goal, and connected my PDA to my computer again to backup the changes. This is when the problems started.
Three things occurred simultaneously in a trifecta of sorrow and woe. The first of these was that WordSmith was not done saving the document, and when I tried to sync it I received an error message. The second was that when I went back into the WordSmith software to make sure it was done saving, the trial ran out and I could only use it in read-only mode. The third was that I didn't look at the documents on the PDA vs the PC before attempting to sync it again.
My second sync worked, but when I reopened the document all my work from the late afternoon and evening were gone.
2500 words.
Fours hours worth of work.
Gone.
I sat and muttered some expletives. Then the e-mail came with my registration code, literally a minute too late.
The wife had gone out to a play that evening, and came home just as I was sitting back down to start re-typing what I had lost. As you might imagine my mood was black as treacle, but I was determined that I would restore those lost words before I went to bed that night. Working to recreate what I had written, I couldn't help thinking that what I was typing now was not as good as what I had done earlier. I was amused with my predilection to put those lost words on a literary pedestal, and just kept on typing. I finished at 1:30 am with the original 5100 words, and another hundred added on for good measure.
As my head hit my pillow I realized that Daylight Savings Time had ended and it was only 12:30 am. I smiled as I drifted off to sleep. I would need the extra hour of sleep since my goal for Sunday was another 3200 words.
My lessons learned from this debacle are as follows: First, (as the wife reminded me) backup my work after every writing session. If I get up for a 5-10 minute break I now backup the file on the PC. Second, (and this was also the wife's idea) do a Save As of the file to another name for each writing session. And third, slow down and think when mixing writing and technology. Hopefully by keeping these things in mind I won't have another problem.
So when you look at my word count total, remember the 2500 words that are not reflected there. Golden prose that lived only a few short hours, and then was lost forever. Farewell, we hardly knew ye.
NaNo Note: If you want an idea of what I am working on I have added an excerpt from my novel on my NaNoWriMo profile page. The website is kind of wonky, so if you can't get in now try again later.
I stayed up Friday night to start writing at midnight. I wrote for two hours and got 1700 words done. I went to bed feeling good about my progress. The next day I continued to work on it throughout the day an hour or two at a time. I had set a goal of writing 5000 words that day, so I kept at it with breaks for college football and yard work. By mid-afternoon I was about half way to my goal. Always one to save my work often, I connected my PDA to my computer and saved my changes with about 2600 words written.
Let me pause the story here to tell you what I am writing this novel on. I am using my Palm Z22 PDA, my Palm keyboard, and word processing software called WordSmith. At the time I was using the trial version of the software, but I had paid for the full version and was only waiting for my registration code to arrive via e-mail. With this software I can write on my PDA and then have what I've written in a Word document on my PC when I go through the sync process.
Later that night I stopped at 9:30 with 5100 words written. I was very pleased that I had exceeded my goal, and connected my PDA to my computer again to backup the changes. This is when the problems started.
Three things occurred simultaneously in a trifecta of sorrow and woe. The first of these was that WordSmith was not done saving the document, and when I tried to sync it I received an error message. The second was that when I went back into the WordSmith software to make sure it was done saving, the trial ran out and I could only use it in read-only mode. The third was that I didn't look at the documents on the PDA vs the PC before attempting to sync it again.
My second sync worked, but when I reopened the document all my work from the late afternoon and evening were gone.
2500 words.
Fours hours worth of work.
Gone.
I sat and muttered some expletives. Then the e-mail came with my registration code, literally a minute too late.
The wife had gone out to a play that evening, and came home just as I was sitting back down to start re-typing what I had lost. As you might imagine my mood was black as treacle, but I was determined that I would restore those lost words before I went to bed that night. Working to recreate what I had written, I couldn't help thinking that what I was typing now was not as good as what I had done earlier. I was amused with my predilection to put those lost words on a literary pedestal, and just kept on typing. I finished at 1:30 am with the original 5100 words, and another hundred added on for good measure.
As my head hit my pillow I realized that Daylight Savings Time had ended and it was only 12:30 am. I smiled as I drifted off to sleep. I would need the extra hour of sleep since my goal for Sunday was another 3200 words.
My lessons learned from this debacle are as follows: First, (as the wife reminded me) backup my work after every writing session. If I get up for a 5-10 minute break I now backup the file on the PC. Second, (and this was also the wife's idea) do a Save As of the file to another name for each writing session. And third, slow down and think when mixing writing and technology. Hopefully by keeping these things in mind I won't have another problem.
So when you look at my word count total, remember the 2500 words that are not reflected there. Golden prose that lived only a few short hours, and then was lost forever. Farewell, we hardly knew ye.
NaNo Note: If you want an idea of what I am working on I have added an excerpt from my novel on my NaNoWriMo profile page. The website is kind of wonky, so if you can't get in now try again later.
October 31, 2008
NaNoWriMo
NaNoWriMo. No, that is not a greeting used by Mork, nor is it some new medical condition. It stands for NAtional NOvel WRiting MOnth. Every year during the month of November people all over the world sit down and attempt to write a novel of 50,000 words or more in 30 days. Not a novella, not a short story, a full-length novel. This is the 10th year for this exercise in unabashed writing, and thousands "win" the event every year by reaching that goal.You may recall from my recent post 40220 that I completed the novella I had been working on for the last 4 years. I was ready for another project, and as I was mulling what to do next I was reminded about NaNoWriMo. The timing is perfect, the stars are aligned, and my plate is cleared.
I will be participating in NaNoWriMo this year with a new idea that is totally unrelated to anything I've worked on before. I will be writing a novel, with a minimum length of 50,000 words, in the next 30 days.
What this means is that I will probably be a little quieter on-line than normal. You'll see me less on Twitter, Facebook, and e-mail as I feverishly pound out at least 1,667 words a day to reach the goal.
There are ways you can keep up with my efforts. I have added a widget on the website for this blog that will show my daily recorded word count. You can visit my NaNoWriMo profile page, where you can not only see my word count but also a synopsis of my novel's plot and eventually an excerpt from it as well. If you are one of my Facebook friends you will auto-magically see my word counts as I put them on the NaNoWriMo site, and I will also post my counts daily on Twitter. At major milestones I will also post updates on this blog.
NaNoWriMo officially starts at midnight tonight, and I will be up to get a jump start on my novel. Wish me luck, pray for me, and follow my progress. The fact that I've told all of you about this will be one of my major motivations to see this through to completion.
For me midnight will not be the witching hour, it will be the writing hour, and I can't wait until I can sit down and start getting this novel out of my head. For when I can say "Let us begin" and start typing.
October 10, 2008
40220
Yesterday I finished a big project, one I have been working on over the last 4-5 years. It is a novella-length, time travel adventure story, and is the longest written work I have completed to date. I have finished several short stories over the years, but never something of this size.
I've been writing sporadically since middle school, and while I have had gaps of time where I am not doing it, it is something that I enjoy and always get back to. This novella was born out of an idea for a single scene, and grew to encompass 40220 words. I hope to do something with it in the future, perhaps podcast it or try to shop it around. First the wife needs to read it and tell me if it is any good. If it is then you'll be hearing more about it. If not, then it's back to work.
But for today it is enough to be done. To enjoy the glow of a labor completed, and blow my own horn about it.
Toot.
I've been writing sporadically since middle school, and while I have had gaps of time where I am not doing it, it is something that I enjoy and always get back to. This novella was born out of an idea for a single scene, and grew to encompass 40220 words. I hope to do something with it in the future, perhaps podcast it or try to shop it around. First the wife needs to read it and tell me if it is any good. If it is then you'll be hearing more about it. If not, then it's back to work.
But for today it is enough to be done. To enjoy the glow of a labor completed, and blow my own horn about it.
Toot.
October 09, 2008
Taking it ALL off...
If you are one of my friends or family, then you are aware that last week I decided to completely shave my head. My reason for doing this was that I was completely bored with the 1/4-inch-high hairstyle that I had been using for the last several years.
While I am not sure just how long I will continue to shave it due to weather conditions and the extra time it takes each morning, I must say that seeing the reactions of those I know has been a blast.
My sister-in-law, who has been cutting my hair for the last 22 years, sent me a mournful "OMG! Keith! What have you done with your hair!?" via Facebook. One woman I know exclaimed "Keith, you got a new head!" Another gave me a look as if I had cut off my arm and were dancing around the bloody appendage. A co-worker simply said "Nice head" implying that it had been completely hidden up till now. Many others were surprised, and I have gotten several compliments as well.
I didn't do this to get compliments or collect the shocked and amazed looks of those around me, but it has been fun seeing the different reactions. However, I recently realized I've gained something else from this experience. I've had several men tell me that shaving their head is something they will never do for one reason or another. Indeed, until not long ago I would have never thought I'd have done it, either. But I've crossed that line, one that many others will not cross, and I've found it a bit freeing.
The thought occurred to me that this might be what it is like for those who dye their hair bright colors or get tattoos. I've never understood the motivations for doing either, especially the latter. Perhaps it is for that feeling of stepping across a boundary that many won't dare, and finding that the water is fine. Of being able to look back across and see the changes that were wrought.
At this point in my life I still won't be getting a tattoo or dying my hair purple, so there are still some lines that I won't cross. I do think, however, that I've gained a greater appreciation for why people feel driven to cross them.
While I am not sure just how long I will continue to shave it due to weather conditions and the extra time it takes each morning, I must say that seeing the reactions of those I know has been a blast.My sister-in-law, who has been cutting my hair for the last 22 years, sent me a mournful "OMG! Keith! What have you done with your hair!?" via Facebook. One woman I know exclaimed "Keith, you got a new head!" Another gave me a look as if I had cut off my arm and were dancing around the bloody appendage. A co-worker simply said "Nice head" implying that it had been completely hidden up till now. Many others were surprised, and I have gotten several compliments as well.
I didn't do this to get compliments or collect the shocked and amazed looks of those around me, but it has been fun seeing the different reactions. However, I recently realized I've gained something else from this experience. I've had several men tell me that shaving their head is something they will never do for one reason or another. Indeed, until not long ago I would have never thought I'd have done it, either. But I've crossed that line, one that many others will not cross, and I've found it a bit freeing.
The thought occurred to me that this might be what it is like for those who dye their hair bright colors or get tattoos. I've never understood the motivations for doing either, especially the latter. Perhaps it is for that feeling of stepping across a boundary that many won't dare, and finding that the water is fine. Of being able to look back across and see the changes that were wrought.
At this point in my life I still won't be getting a tattoo or dying my hair purple, so there are still some lines that I won't cross. I do think, however, that I've gained a greater appreciation for why people feel driven to cross them.
September 26, 2008
Rambling Review: Star Wars - The Clone Wars
Warning: This review will contain some spoilers, so if you don't want to be spoiled then these aren't the droids you're looking for. Move along.
When I first saw a trailer for Star Wars - The Clone Wars I knew I would have to see it. After all, I had been a devotee of the series since it began in 1977. But at the same time I was a little ambivalent because it was an animated feature. It was Star Wars, but not Star Wars.
I was aware of when it was released, but then something unthinkable happened. I forgot about it. I almost totally missed the theatrical run of this latest foray into the Star Wars universe. I was only reminded when I listened to a podcast featuring IndianaJim where the movie was discussed.
Shortly after that I had a day off of work. Since the wife was working and I was on my own, I decided to go see this movie before it disappeared off of the silver screen. I arrived at my early Thursday afternoon showing for the ultimate movie going experience. I had the theater to myself. It was just me, my popcorn, and The Clone Wars. Not surprisingly I discovered that it was Star Wars, and it was not Star Wars.
It's Not Star Wars
The first thing that told me this was not the Star Wars I had grown to expect came at the very beginning of the film. Instead of the 20th Century Fox logo and the fanfare that I have always associated with the Star Wars franchise, the Warner Brothers logo and music ran. I know I am not the only person for whom the 20CF fanfare is considered a part of the experience, since most of the Star Wars soundtracks start with it. This is a small thing, undoubtedly driven by a good business decision, but it was a jarring reminder before the film even started that this was a different beast.
The second thing that told me this was different was the opening of the film. We had the familiar logo disappearing across a field of stars to the strains of the expected music, but then a modern beat was introduced and there was no text following the logo off into the distance. Instead there was a narrator who filled that void, and the music quickly changed away from the familiar to new compositions.
In fact the music was one of the things that told me this was not the same Star Wars I knew. Outside of a few bars at the opening and a short rendition of the traditional closing music at the end, none of John Williams' original scores were used as far as I could tell. I didn't hear Anakin's Theme, the Sith Lord's dark music, and no Duel of the Fates during Obi-Wan's big lightsaber battle. While the music used was not bad, it was not what I had come to expect. John Williams was not the composer for this film, and the music had a totally different feel.
Since I knew the visuals would be different one of the things I was looking forward to in this film was experiencing the Star Wars soundscape again in a movie theater environment. I've been recently listening to a couple Star Wars audio drama podcasts (here and here), and one of the things that make these stories come alive is the sound effects. While the correct sounds were used in the movie, lightsabers sounded like lightsabers and so on, the movie did not have the immersive THX feel that the live action films did. Indeed, I can probably get a better overall sound experience watching one of the older films using my home surround sound system.
I've always enjoyed the feeling of scope the big screen gave me during the space battles on the live action films. It felt as though I was truly there, and that I was inhabiting the same three dimensional space as the combatants. This was one area where the animation process detracted from the overall effect. The space battles seemed rather two dimensional and limited to me. Because of this I did not feel I gained any advantage by seeing this movie in the theater. I believe it would be just as enjoyable on a decent sized TV at home.
It's Star Wars
Even though the visual medium was quite different, they did a good job duplicating the look and feel of the Star Wars universe. The battle droids, shields, tanks, and ships all moved and reacted like they did in the other movies.
Likewise the voices were pretty well done. This is an area that I would have expected to have had big problems with, but I found the voices used for Obi-Wan and Anakin to be perfectly acceptable. I thought the voice used for Yoda was exceptional. It was only after the credits ran that I discovered that of the major characters only Mace Windu, Count Dooku, and C-3PO had their original actors (Samuel L. Jackson, Christopher Lee, and Anthony Daniels respectively) provide their voices for this project.
Even though this movie is the precursor for a weekly animated series that will run on Cartoon Network, they stayed away from the normal cartoon stereotypes. I especially thought they did a great job in keeping the familiar brand of Star Wars humor instead of the overdone, campy crud that passed for humor in most cartoons. I hope that they continue this trend in the TV series. I laughed out loud in several places, one of which was when a large group of battle droids decide to retreat. One of them issues the command, and the other hundred or so are all saying "roger, roger" as they scurry to safety. C-3PO was also used to great effect to insert humor that was consistent with what we've seen in the other movies.
Over the years the Star Wars has always shown us things we've never seen before. This movie continued that trend by using the medium of animation to great effect. For example, there was a major battle that occurred while the Jedi were climbing up a sheer cliff to reach components of the droid army. This vertical battle included many different machines, explosions, and dizzying stunts. It was a visually stunning sequence that provided some great action and moved the story forward. While I am sure that with enough time, money, and CGI an equivalent scene could probably be done on a live action film, but it was no doubt much easier to do in this animated format.
The story was pure Star Wars. Set in the time period between The Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith, the plot took us through levels of cross and double-cross that the live action movies mentioned but could not delve into deeply. The relationship between Anakin and his new padawan learner Ahsoka Tano provided great chemistry, as I've seen in the past between Han and Chewie, Luke and Leia, and C-3PO and R2-D2. Even though he did not direct or write the script, George Lucas' hand could be clearly felt in the storyline for this film.
The End Result
I liked this film. The elements that distracted me from feeling this was a true Star Wars movie were not great enough to spoil my overall enjoyment. The flow of the story, interaction of the characters, visuals, and sound effects enabled me to still accept this movie as an alternate window into the Star Wars universe. On a scale from 1 to 5, I would rate it as a 2.5.
I will be checking out the TV show on Cartoon Network. If you are a fan of the Star Wars movies, I would recommend that you give it a try, too. And let me know what you think.
When I first saw a trailer for Star Wars - The Clone Wars I knew I would have to see it. After all, I had been a devotee of the series since it began in 1977. But at the same time I was a little ambivalent because it was an animated feature. It was Star Wars, but not Star Wars.
I was aware of when it was released, but then something unthinkable happened. I forgot about it. I almost totally missed the theatrical run of this latest foray into the Star Wars universe. I was only reminded when I listened to a podcast featuring IndianaJim where the movie was discussed.
Shortly after that I had a day off of work. Since the wife was working and I was on my own, I decided to go see this movie before it disappeared off of the silver screen. I arrived at my early Thursday afternoon showing for the ultimate movie going experience. I had the theater to myself. It was just me, my popcorn, and The Clone Wars. Not surprisingly I discovered that it was Star Wars, and it was not Star Wars.
It's Not Star Wars
The first thing that told me this was not the Star Wars I had grown to expect came at the very beginning of the film. Instead of the 20th Century Fox logo and the fanfare that I have always associated with the Star Wars franchise, the Warner Brothers logo and music ran. I know I am not the only person for whom the 20CF fanfare is considered a part of the experience, since most of the Star Wars soundtracks start with it. This is a small thing, undoubtedly driven by a good business decision, but it was a jarring reminder before the film even started that this was a different beast.
The second thing that told me this was different was the opening of the film. We had the familiar logo disappearing across a field of stars to the strains of the expected music, but then a modern beat was introduced and there was no text following the logo off into the distance. Instead there was a narrator who filled that void, and the music quickly changed away from the familiar to new compositions.
In fact the music was one of the things that told me this was not the same Star Wars I knew. Outside of a few bars at the opening and a short rendition of the traditional closing music at the end, none of John Williams' original scores were used as far as I could tell. I didn't hear Anakin's Theme, the Sith Lord's dark music, and no Duel of the Fates during Obi-Wan's big lightsaber battle. While the music used was not bad, it was not what I had come to expect. John Williams was not the composer for this film, and the music had a totally different feel.
Since I knew the visuals would be different one of the things I was looking forward to in this film was experiencing the Star Wars soundscape again in a movie theater environment. I've been recently listening to a couple Star Wars audio drama podcasts (here and here), and one of the things that make these stories come alive is the sound effects. While the correct sounds were used in the movie, lightsabers sounded like lightsabers and so on, the movie did not have the immersive THX feel that the live action films did. Indeed, I can probably get a better overall sound experience watching one of the older films using my home surround sound system.
I've always enjoyed the feeling of scope the big screen gave me during the space battles on the live action films. It felt as though I was truly there, and that I was inhabiting the same three dimensional space as the combatants. This was one area where the animation process detracted from the overall effect. The space battles seemed rather two dimensional and limited to me. Because of this I did not feel I gained any advantage by seeing this movie in the theater. I believe it would be just as enjoyable on a decent sized TV at home.
It's Star Wars
Even though the visual medium was quite different, they did a good job duplicating the look and feel of the Star Wars universe. The battle droids, shields, tanks, and ships all moved and reacted like they did in the other movies.
Likewise the voices were pretty well done. This is an area that I would have expected to have had big problems with, but I found the voices used for Obi-Wan and Anakin to be perfectly acceptable. I thought the voice used for Yoda was exceptional. It was only after the credits ran that I discovered that of the major characters only Mace Windu, Count Dooku, and C-3PO had their original actors (Samuel L. Jackson, Christopher Lee, and Anthony Daniels respectively) provide their voices for this project.
Even though this movie is the precursor for a weekly animated series that will run on Cartoon Network, they stayed away from the normal cartoon stereotypes. I especially thought they did a great job in keeping the familiar brand of Star Wars humor instead of the overdone, campy crud that passed for humor in most cartoons. I hope that they continue this trend in the TV series. I laughed out loud in several places, one of which was when a large group of battle droids decide to retreat. One of them issues the command, and the other hundred or so are all saying "roger, roger" as they scurry to safety. C-3PO was also used to great effect to insert humor that was consistent with what we've seen in the other movies.
Over the years the Star Wars has always shown us things we've never seen before. This movie continued that trend by using the medium of animation to great effect. For example, there was a major battle that occurred while the Jedi were climbing up a sheer cliff to reach components of the droid army. This vertical battle included many different machines, explosions, and dizzying stunts. It was a visually stunning sequence that provided some great action and moved the story forward. While I am sure that with enough time, money, and CGI an equivalent scene could probably be done on a live action film, but it was no doubt much easier to do in this animated format.
The story was pure Star Wars. Set in the time period between The Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith, the plot took us through levels of cross and double-cross that the live action movies mentioned but could not delve into deeply. The relationship between Anakin and his new padawan learner Ahsoka Tano provided great chemistry, as I've seen in the past between Han and Chewie, Luke and Leia, and C-3PO and R2-D2. Even though he did not direct or write the script, George Lucas' hand could be clearly felt in the storyline for this film.
The End Result
I liked this film. The elements that distracted me from feeling this was a true Star Wars movie were not great enough to spoil my overall enjoyment. The flow of the story, interaction of the characters, visuals, and sound effects enabled me to still accept this movie as an alternate window into the Star Wars universe. On a scale from 1 to 5, I would rate it as a 2.5.
I will be checking out the TV show on Cartoon Network. If you are a fan of the Star Wars movies, I would recommend that you give it a try, too. And let me know what you think.
September 19, 2008
A Pirate's Life
Ahoy, me hearties! Today be Talk Like a Pirate Day, so I've prepared a special audio show for ye. Press the play button below to listen.
Many thanks to me Twitter pals who helped me with this show by sending me the questions: WordAlchemy, ChadTEverson, Skylos, Artywah, MartynDarkly (host of the Movie Mantras podcast), and DoctorLinguist.
Farewell maties, and don't forget to talk like a pirate, or ye'll feel me cutlass! Arrrrrr....
Many thanks to me Twitter pals who helped me with this show by sending me the questions: WordAlchemy, ChadTEverson, Skylos, Artywah, MartynDarkly (host of the Movie Mantras podcast), and DoctorLinguist.
Farewell maties, and don't forget to talk like a pirate, or ye'll feel me cutlass! Arrrrrr....
September 17, 2008
Only TWO Days....
 |
Ahoy, mateys. It be your old pal Captain Gizmo here, and I be here to tell you that there be only TWO days until that most wonderous o' holidays: Talk Like A Pirate Day. Practice your best pirate speak and be ye ready on Friday. And stay tuned to this heere blog for a special post celebrating the day!
And I'll be havin' words with any scallawag what who doesn't partake in this fine event. Arrrr!
August 08, 2008
Packer Hell
I am a Packer fan. I am a Brett Favre fan. And right now I am in Packer hell.
Unless you have been living on Mars for the last two weeks, you are probably aware that long time Packer quarterback Brett Favre announced that his retirement in March was premature, and that he wanted to play football again this year.
Thus the drama began as the Packers apparently did not want him back. They said, "Dude, we moved on", and I could certainly see their point. But by Brett's account they really pressured him to making a decision before the draft. At that time the decision was to retire, but says he is now mentally and physically ready to play. I can also see his point.
Since Brett announced that he wanted to return, Packers management have displayed an odd mixture of trying to protect the asset that Brett was to the organization, and heartily wishing he would go away. But he did not. He stuck with it and reported to training camp this week.
Brett had a meeting with Green Bay's coach and other quarterbacks, and coach McCarthy came out of it saying that Brett was not in the right mindset to play. I guess that means that Favre was messing up their plans by not agreeing to ride the clipboard as a backup to Aaron Rogers. The Packers did not want one of the best QBs of all time, and who had a wonderful season last year, to lead their team.
One of the painful things about this whole mess is watching Brett learn that while he was loyal to the team, the team was not loyal to him. I've seen this in corporate America over the last 25 years. The old idea that you are loyal to the company and the company is loyal to you is dead. The reality is that as an employee you have to look out for yourself, because the company will not. If circumstances require it, anyone can be escorted from the building at a moment's notice and without consideration for the employee. Even Brett Favre is not immune to this trend.
Last night I watched Brett stand in a press conference holding up a green jersey bearing the number "4" and his name, but it was a New York Jets jersey. It was the saddest sports-related event of my life.
Brett was traded to the Jets and with his blessing will be their starting quarterback. His new team is in a different division and will not play the Packers until 2012. I'm sure the fact that the two teams would not meet in the near future, and likely not until after Brett retires for good, was one of the factors that made this trade desirable in the eyes of Packers management.
So do I root for the Packers, whose management has shown me only bumbling idiocy, and who will be starting an untried quarterback? Do I root for Brett on his new team? Should I trade in my Packers gear and Green Bay number "4" jersey for NY Jets stuff?
In truth I will root for both Brett and the Packers. He was only part of what drew me to the Packers, so I continue will root for Green Bay. I will still wear my number "4" Packers jersey and my cheesehead. But I will also root for Brett when I watch him play. Since these two entities will probably never play against each other, I'm pretty safe there.
I always knew that one day Brett would not be leading the Packers, and that my faith in my team would be challenged as a new QB took the helm. I did not know that the ineptitude of Packers management would leave such a bad taste in my mouth. I did not know that instead of watching games from his home in Mississippi, Brett would be playing in New York wearing a frakkin' Jets jersey.
This is not the way it's supposed to be, dammit.
Unless you have been living on Mars for the last two weeks, you are probably aware that long time Packer quarterback Brett Favre announced that his retirement in March was premature, and that he wanted to play football again this year.
Thus the drama began as the Packers apparently did not want him back. They said, "Dude, we moved on", and I could certainly see their point. But by Brett's account they really pressured him to making a decision before the draft. At that time the decision was to retire, but says he is now mentally and physically ready to play. I can also see his point.
Since Brett announced that he wanted to return, Packers management have displayed an odd mixture of trying to protect the asset that Brett was to the organization, and heartily wishing he would go away. But he did not. He stuck with it and reported to training camp this week.
Brett had a meeting with Green Bay's coach and other quarterbacks, and coach McCarthy came out of it saying that Brett was not in the right mindset to play. I guess that means that Favre was messing up their plans by not agreeing to ride the clipboard as a backup to Aaron Rogers. The Packers did not want one of the best QBs of all time, and who had a wonderful season last year, to lead their team.
One of the painful things about this whole mess is watching Brett learn that while he was loyal to the team, the team was not loyal to him. I've seen this in corporate America over the last 25 years. The old idea that you are loyal to the company and the company is loyal to you is dead. The reality is that as an employee you have to look out for yourself, because the company will not. If circumstances require it, anyone can be escorted from the building at a moment's notice and without consideration for the employee. Even Brett Favre is not immune to this trend.
Last night I watched Brett stand in a press conference holding up a green jersey bearing the number "4" and his name, but it was a New York Jets jersey. It was the saddest sports-related event of my life.
Brett was traded to the Jets and with his blessing will be their starting quarterback. His new team is in a different division and will not play the Packers until 2012. I'm sure the fact that the two teams would not meet in the near future, and likely not until after Brett retires for good, was one of the factors that made this trade desirable in the eyes of Packers management.
So do I root for the Packers, whose management has shown me only bumbling idiocy, and who will be starting an untried quarterback? Do I root for Brett on his new team? Should I trade in my Packers gear and Green Bay number "4" jersey for NY Jets stuff?
In truth I will root for both Brett and the Packers. He was only part of what drew me to the Packers, so I continue will root for Green Bay. I will still wear my number "4" Packers jersey and my cheesehead. But I will also root for Brett when I watch him play. Since these two entities will probably never play against each other, I'm pretty safe there.
I always knew that one day Brett would not be leading the Packers, and that my faith in my team would be challenged as a new QB took the helm. I did not know that the ineptitude of Packers management would leave such a bad taste in my mouth. I did not know that instead of watching games from his home in Mississippi, Brett would be playing in New York wearing a frakkin' Jets jersey.
This is not the way it's supposed to be, dammit.
July 23, 2008
Shine!
At our hotel on Nashville I was once again presented with soap and other toiletries that were saying something to me (see "Read"). This time instead of trying to tell me what to do with the products, the soaps and shampoos were offering to bring out my best. As you can see from the photo, they promised to make me shine!Now I use an average amount of toiletry products, but I am not overly concerned about them enhancing my looks. I pretty much take Popeye's attitude as to my appearance: "I yam what I yam!" Even though my body wash proudly proclaims that it is "Maintenance For Your Mansuit", I don't really fuss over what my skin looks like when comparing one cleaning product over another. And, no, I don't walk around referring to my body as my "mansuit". If I ever do, someone please slap me.
Since I was on vacation and feeling adventurous I decided to use the hotel's products exclusively instead of what I had packed for the trip. I used the soap, shampoo, and conditioner during my first shower there, and then stepped back to see the results. While I'm not sure if the products lived up to their promise, my hair did feel silky smooth. I attributed that to the conditioner. The picture to the right was taken shortly after said shower.So what do you think? Do I shine?
Important Legaleze: The forehead of this blogger is hereby exempted from all comments regarding shine, shininess, brightness, blinding, and all similar language. Failure to comply with this notice will make the violator subject to penalties that may include listening to the author reading his complete thirteen-volume collection of haiku devoted to belly-button lint.
You have been warned!
July 14, 2008
Lost Photos
I just returned from a vacation in Tennessee and while I had a great time overall, something very bad happened on this trip. Our digital camera was stolen, along with all of the pictures I had taken up to that point.
It took me a couple of days to (mostly) get over the pain and anguish of losing the camera itself, but I've had more lingering problems living with the fact that the pictures I took have no doubt been deleted by the camera's new owner. Since I no longer have the photos, I thought I would remember here some that stand out in my mind.
Every now and then the image of one of the pictures I took on this trip will pop into my mind, only to be followed with the sad knowledge that it is gone forever. I still have the memories of the experiences, but this person stole my record of those few days. And while none of the pictures could be considered important in any way, I still miss them.
I guess it's time to shop for a new camera.
It took me a couple of days to (mostly) get over the pain and anguish of losing the camera itself, but I've had more lingering problems living with the fact that the pictures I took have no doubt been deleted by the camera's new owner. Since I no longer have the photos, I thought I would remember here some that stand out in my mind.
While in Knoxville we visited Volunteer Landing and took a stroll along the Tennessee river. At one point The Daughter had stopped and was looking out at the river. Without her knowledge I took two pictures of her staring at the water. She had a calm and serious expression that I rarely see. I felt they had the potential of being special pictures, and was looking forward to seeing them on a larger screen then the one my camera had.I took quite a few pictures as has been my wont since I got the digital camera. After all, it doesn't cost anything to take them. I don't always know why I take them, but if I have the camera in my hand I usually find a reason to take a picture. This experience has made me realize that I am doing more than just taking random photos, I am documenting my life.
I was just getting ready to enter the men's room there at the Landing when The Wife excitedly called me over to the women's room. She told me there was this hand dryer that I just had to check out. When I saw it I asked her if she actually read my blog, as it was my old friend the Xtreme 4000 hand dryer as described in Adventures in Bathroom Remodeling. Safely in the men's room I took a picture of the dryer blowing a deep depression into the side of my arm that I was intending to use in a follow up post. The Wife later agreed that it could blow the skin off a zombie, but once again there were none handy for an actual test.
We visited my father and his significant other in Knoxville and had a great time with them. They moved down there from Michigan last year and this was the first time we'd seen them since August. It will be another year before we see them again. I took a nice photo of them standing on their front porch.
Across the street from our hotel there was a Honda dealership owned by former NASCAR great Rusty Wallace. So of course I had to drive through the lot and snap a pic of the side of the building bearing Rusty's name. We even had to endure strange looks from a salesman who wondered why I was driving around the dealership.
We visited a couple of the tourist destinations in the Knoxville area including the Blount Mansion. This was the house of William Blount, the first govoner of the state of Tennessee. I took many photographs in the various buildings that made up the grounds. One I especially liked was the shot of the Star Spangled Banner, an early version of the American flag that had 15 stars and 15 stripes (one for each state in the union at that time) that was displayed in Blount's office. It was this version of the flag that Francis Scott Key saw when he wrote his famous poem.
Every now and then the image of one of the pictures I took on this trip will pop into my mind, only to be followed with the sad knowledge that it is gone forever. I still have the memories of the experiences, but this person stole my record of those few days. And while none of the pictures could be considered important in any way, I still miss them.
I guess it's time to shop for a new camera.
July 07, 2008
Hey, you! Out of the pool!
We're having a great time here at the Quality Inn in Tennessee. As you can see they have a nice large pool for us to use.
Too bad only one of us is supposed to use the pool at a time. I guess the rest of us were supposed to stand around and be ready to throw the life ring at them if they got in trouble.
Don't tell hotel management, but we lived on the wild side and had three people in the pool at one time. Man, it was crowded.
Too bad only one of us is supposed to use the pool at a time. I guess the rest of us were supposed to stand around and be ready to throw the life ring at them if they got in trouble.
Don't tell hotel management, but we lived on the wild side and had three people in the pool at one time. Man, it was crowded.
June 21, 2008
I Ate A Baby For Breakfast!
Yep, I did. A Dutch Baby. And it was really good! Now before any of you Netherlanders start rounding up your kiddies, put your mind at rest. This isn't the Dutch baby you're thinking of.
The wife and I were recently watching an episode of Good Eats and he showed how to make this popover-like dish called, you guessed it, a Dutch Baby. As host Alton Brown pulled the confection out of the oven, the wife exclaimed, "I've had that!"
She had gone to this restaurant recently in not-too-far Southfield, MI called The Original Pancake House, and she had had a Dutch baby, or something just like it. Since I had yesterday off as a vacation day we decided to make the half-hour journey so I could try one for myself.
When we got there and looked over the menu they had a Dutch Baby with only powdered sugar on it, but there was also a dish called the Dutch Treat. It was this that the wife and I ordered. The daughter ordered chocolate chip pancakes (She's such a rebel). The picture shows what I received: one Dutch Baby filled with sliced strawberries and bananas, and some strawberry compote (read syrup) on the side.
I poured a little of the strawberry syrup on the baby and took my first bite. It was heavenly. Before long I was going "nom, nom, nom..." like a lolcat. Far sooner that I would have liked my plate was empty and my tummy was full.
So if you ever have the opportunity to eat a Dutch Baby, take it (The food, not the baby. Sir! Put that child down!). Highly recommended.
The wife and I were recently watching an episode of Good Eats and he showed how to make this popover-like dish called, you guessed it, a Dutch Baby. As host Alton Brown pulled the confection out of the oven, the wife exclaimed, "I've had that!"
She had gone to this restaurant recently in not-too-far Southfield, MI called The Original Pancake House, and she had had a Dutch baby, or something just like it. Since I had yesterday off as a vacation day we decided to make the half-hour journey so I could try one for myself.When we got there and looked over the menu they had a Dutch Baby with only powdered sugar on it, but there was also a dish called the Dutch Treat. It was this that the wife and I ordered. The daughter ordered chocolate chip pancakes (She's such a rebel). The picture shows what I received: one Dutch Baby filled with sliced strawberries and bananas, and some strawberry compote (read syrup) on the side.
I poured a little of the strawberry syrup on the baby and took my first bite. It was heavenly. Before long I was going "nom, nom, nom..." like a lolcat. Far sooner that I would have liked my plate was empty and my tummy was full.
So if you ever have the opportunity to eat a Dutch Baby, take it (The food, not the baby. Sir! Put that child down!). Highly recommended.
May 27, 2008
Remember
Yesterday the wife and I went to the Memorial Day observances at the Yankee Air Museum in Belleville, MI. We went there because the vocal group she performs in was going to be singing as part of the ceremonies. I mainly went along because I'm a dutiful husband. Had I given it more thought I would have gone simply to observe the Day.
Over the years we have been fairly regular in attending Memorial Day remembrances for those who have served to protect our country. For the last four years we have attended the local Memorial Day service as our daughter's band marched in its parade. Even before then we often attended some sort of Memorial Day ceremony, and if circumstances prevented us from attending we would take a moment and remember those who had served. As both my father and father-in-law are vets, I feel it is my duty as a civilian to remember those who have made it possible for me to live the way I do. I've come to feel that attending ceremonies such as these are an important way to remind myself of their sacrifices.
When we arrived I found another reason for being there: airplanes. The YAM takes old military planes and restores them. A few are kept in flying condition, and the rest are put on display. A couple of the largest are even open for people to walk through. I happily spent a bit of time walking around taking pictures of them as we waited for the time for the ceremony to begin. I was especially fond of the towering B-52 Stratofortress, a plane so large that the Ypsilanti Community Concert Band set up and played in the shelter of one wing.
I stood there surrounded by airplanes that made up our country's military history, and the thought came to me that many service men and women had served, lived, bled, and died in planes such as these. While the airplanes were interesting photography subjects to me, they were reminders of service given to others. Of the few hundred of us that were attending, many of those were either veterans who had served on one of these planes or had a link to those who served in the air.
The keynote speaker at this event was astronaut Jack Lousma. He gave a good speech, complete with pithy quotes from Abraham Lincoln that I wish many politicians would heed (but that is another blog entry). Representatives from the Tuskegee Airmen said a few words. Plaques and awards were handed out.
Over the course of this ceremony my brain kept returning to something the President of the museum said in his opening remarks. He spoke of the need to remember those who fell in service to their country, and to honor those who served and returned to civilian life. I hear these same words every year, and I usually just nod my head in agreement. But this time it occurred to me that he was preaching to the choir. Those of us who were there were doing just that.
What would happen if everyone in this country would reflect, remember, and recognize the sacrifices that these brave people made, not just those of us who came out for yearly observances? What if we all keenly felt it is our duty to not take for granted what has been freely given to us by our fellow countrymen through their blood, sweat, and tears? I think a great many political debates would die on the vine if such an attitude was prevalent.
So if you did not attend a Memorial Day ceremony yesterday, if you did not give a thought to why we live in this great country, if yesterday was just an extra day off of work, please take a moment and let gratitude fill your heart. I'm not asking that you stop a vet, shake their hand, and thank them publicly. I simply ask that you recognize, if only in your innermost thoughts, that the service of current and former members of the military has affected your life for the better.
And to all of the veterans of our armed forces, active service men and women, and families of our deceased heroes I can only say from the depths of my heart:
Thank you.
Over the years we have been fairly regular in attending Memorial Day remembrances for those who have served to protect our country. For the last four years we have attended the local Memorial Day service as our daughter's band marched in its parade. Even before then we often attended some sort of Memorial Day ceremony, and if circumstances prevented us from attending we would take a moment and remember those who had served. As both my father and father-in-law are vets, I feel it is my duty as a civilian to remember those who have made it possible for me to live the way I do. I've come to feel that attending ceremonies such as these are an important way to remind myself of their sacrifices.
When we arrived I found another reason for being there: airplanes. The YAM takes old military planes and restores them. A few are kept in flying condition, and the rest are put on display. A couple of the largest are even open for people to walk through. I happily spent a bit of time walking around taking pictures of them as we waited for the time for the ceremony to begin. I was especially fond of the towering B-52 Stratofortress, a plane so large that the Ypsilanti Community Concert Band set up and played in the shelter of one wing.
I stood there surrounded by airplanes that made up our country's military history, and the thought came to me that many service men and women had served, lived, bled, and died in planes such as these. While the airplanes were interesting photography subjects to me, they were reminders of service given to others. Of the few hundred of us that were attending, many of those were either veterans who had served on one of these planes or had a link to those who served in the air.
The keynote speaker at this event was astronaut Jack Lousma. He gave a good speech, complete with pithy quotes from Abraham Lincoln that I wish many politicians would heed (but that is another blog entry). Representatives from the Tuskegee Airmen said a few words. Plaques and awards were handed out.
Over the course of this ceremony my brain kept returning to something the President of the museum said in his opening remarks. He spoke of the need to remember those who fell in service to their country, and to honor those who served and returned to civilian life. I hear these same words every year, and I usually just nod my head in agreement. But this time it occurred to me that he was preaching to the choir. Those of us who were there were doing just that.
What would happen if everyone in this country would reflect, remember, and recognize the sacrifices that these brave people made, not just those of us who came out for yearly observances? What if we all keenly felt it is our duty to not take for granted what has been freely given to us by our fellow countrymen through their blood, sweat, and tears? I think a great many political debates would die on the vine if such an attitude was prevalent.
So if you did not attend a Memorial Day ceremony yesterday, if you did not give a thought to why we live in this great country, if yesterday was just an extra day off of work, please take a moment and let gratitude fill your heart. I'm not asking that you stop a vet, shake their hand, and thank them publicly. I simply ask that you recognize, if only in your innermost thoughts, that the service of current and former members of the military has affected your life for the better.
And to all of the veterans of our armed forces, active service men and women, and families of our deceased heroes I can only say from the depths of my heart:
Thank you.
May 17, 2008
One Geek's Confession
Since my teen years I have been battling lust. I would see a perfectly formed body, those soft curves, and my eyes would cloud over as I imagined having her for my very own. I was not alone in this, as most of my friends felt the same way. Some even had the good fortune to possess such beauty, and I would live vicariously through them. It was a grand time full of desire and frustration, happiness and bitterness. Through it all I battled my foe, techno-lust.
I am speaking, of course, of the dawning of the age of the personal computer. A time when the possibilities were endless and the variety was vast. Almost daily a new model appeared with sexy lines and large floppies, and through it all I was a-quiver with insatiable desire.
It all began in my senior year of high school when I took a computer class. There on the table was an exotic looking device with a keyboard, cassette tape player/recorder, and monitor all contained in one neat package. Her name was Commodore, but I could call her PET. She was like something from a dream, and I nearly swooned when I got to touch her for the first time. I wrote a small program in which I said "Hello!" and tried to connect with her in a meaningful way. When I ran the program she said "Hello!" back to me in a endless cascade. It was love at first sight.
But then the teacher wooed her away from me with some serious bling; dual external 5-and-a quarter floppy drives. It soon became clear who she really belonged to and I slunk away dejected.
I tried to drown my sorrows by seeing her kid sister, Commodore 64, for a while. While she was a great time, she soon figured out that I still held a torch for her older sibling and we parted ways.
Some time later I met Timex Sinclair 1000 , and my techno-lust reared its head again. She was so tiny, so petite. She could go with me anywhere, unlike my big-boned PET. All she needed was an AC outlet and TV, and we were ready for good times. But after a while I discovered that while she was cute and fun to be around, she was rather limited. Her small capacity made a meaningful relationship impossible, so with a sad heart I moved on.
A friend of mine became attached to one of the popular models, TRS-80. She had some of sexiest curves I'd ever seen, and a coordinated outfit that suited her perfectly. As happens envy raised its head and ugly rumors abounded about her, and some even took to calling her Trash-80. I didn't listen to these slurs on her character, so completely enraptured was I in her charms. After a while it became apparent that she and my friend were serious and that I had no chance at all. Reluctantly I allowed my fantasies to die away.
Then when I was in college I got lucky. I snagged the eye of the most beautiful blond on the planet. She had one of those names that stood out and spoke of hippie parentage: Macintosh. Beside her the others were a pack of braying donkeys, and my techno-lust consumed me for the want of her. She was the whole package with a handful-sized floppy drive built right into her chassis. Her display did not show plain text like the others, but an intuitive windows-based interface. She was magnificent. I spent one weekend with her, and it was everything I dreamed it could be. But I soon realized that I was out of my league, and I simply could not afford such an expensive relationship. With regret I let her go.
A short time later I met Mac's younger sister, and while you might be wondering why I didn't learn my lesson with 64, I took my time getting to know Apple ][e. We made sure we were right for each other as my techno-lust reached a new peak until it eventually transformed into love. I knew I was finally ready for a mature relationship. She had none of the vapid bombshell qualities of Mac, and we did everything together. We spent hours playing games and writing stories. It was wonderful. We had our differences, like all couples. She had a penchant for not telling me I had attached her floppy drives backwards until she had fried the control board, and I had a penchant for keeping her up all night. We learned to live with each others quirks.
Then a couple of years later a co-worker introduced me to PC, a stunning model with big blue eyes. Despite myself I felt that familiar feeling of techno-lust course through my veins. She sang a siren song of games and applications, and I was captivated.
Since then I have had several PCs, but they no longer inspire the potent type of techno-lust that those early systems did. So while I enjoy my current systems, I remember the old days when the joining of man and machine was new and exciting. And I wonder, what will provoke my techno-lust in the future?
I am speaking, of course, of the dawning of the age of the personal computer. A time when the possibilities were endless and the variety was vast. Almost daily a new model appeared with sexy lines and large floppies, and through it all I was a-quiver with insatiable desire.
It all began in my senior year of high school when I took a computer class. There on the table was an exotic looking device with a keyboard, cassette tape player/recorder, and monitor all contained in one neat package. Her name was Commodore, but I could call her PET. She was like something from a dream, and I nearly swooned when I got to touch her for the first time. I wrote a small program in which I said "Hello!" and tried to connect with her in a meaningful way. When I ran the program she said "Hello!" back to me in a endless cascade. It was love at first sight.
But then the teacher wooed her away from me with some serious bling; dual external 5-and-a quarter floppy drives. It soon became clear who she really belonged to and I slunk away dejected.
I tried to drown my sorrows by seeing her kid sister, Commodore 64, for a while. While she was a great time, she soon figured out that I still held a torch for her older sibling and we parted ways.
Some time later I met Timex Sinclair 1000 , and my techno-lust reared its head again. She was so tiny, so petite. She could go with me anywhere, unlike my big-boned PET. All she needed was an AC outlet and TV, and we were ready for good times. But after a while I discovered that while she was cute and fun to be around, she was rather limited. Her small capacity made a meaningful relationship impossible, so with a sad heart I moved on.
A friend of mine became attached to one of the popular models, TRS-80. She had some of sexiest curves I'd ever seen, and a coordinated outfit that suited her perfectly. As happens envy raised its head and ugly rumors abounded about her, and some even took to calling her Trash-80. I didn't listen to these slurs on her character, so completely enraptured was I in her charms. After a while it became apparent that she and my friend were serious and that I had no chance at all. Reluctantly I allowed my fantasies to die away.
Then when I was in college I got lucky. I snagged the eye of the most beautiful blond on the planet. She had one of those names that stood out and spoke of hippie parentage: Macintosh. Beside her the others were a pack of braying donkeys, and my techno-lust consumed me for the want of her. She was the whole package with a handful-sized floppy drive built right into her chassis. Her display did not show plain text like the others, but an intuitive windows-based interface. She was magnificent. I spent one weekend with her, and it was everything I dreamed it could be. But I soon realized that I was out of my league, and I simply could not afford such an expensive relationship. With regret I let her go.
A short time later I met Mac's younger sister, and while you might be wondering why I didn't learn my lesson with 64, I took my time getting to know Apple ][e. We made sure we were right for each other as my techno-lust reached a new peak until it eventually transformed into love. I knew I was finally ready for a mature relationship. She had none of the vapid bombshell qualities of Mac, and we did everything together. We spent hours playing games and writing stories. It was wonderful. We had our differences, like all couples. She had a penchant for not telling me I had attached her floppy drives backwards until she had fried the control board, and I had a penchant for keeping her up all night. We learned to live with each others quirks.
Then a couple of years later a co-worker introduced me to PC, a stunning model with big blue eyes. Despite myself I felt that familiar feeling of techno-lust course through my veins. She sang a siren song of games and applications, and I was captivated.
Since then I have had several PCs, but they no longer inspire the potent type of techno-lust that those early systems did. So while I enjoy my current systems, I remember the old days when the joining of man and machine was new and exciting. And I wonder, what will provoke my techno-lust in the future?
May 03, 2008
Adventures in Bathroom Remodeling
Over the last few months the plain bathroom in the building where I work has been getting quite the makeover. It all began with the arrival of the Xtreme 4000 touch-less hand dryer. This unit appeared without fanfare on the wall one day, and looked much like any other hand dryer.
In all honesty I admit that I hate hand dryers. As far as I am concerned the procedure for using these things is as follows:
I had no such problems with the Xtreme 4000. With a howl reminiscent of a F-14 taking off from the deck of the USS Enterprise, this hefty dryer could blow the skin off of a zombie. (No, I wasn't able to test that. Despite much looking on my part, no zombies were available.) As it turned out the "4000" in its name indicated the wind speed it produced. This "little dryer that could" dried my hands in about 5 seconds flat, and also rid them of hair and dry skin at the same time.
The problem the the Xtreme dryer was the noise. The scream of the dryer was deafening in the small cinder-block bathroom. I found it best to be ensconced on the throne in one of the two stalls if the blower was activated when I was not expecting it. Otherwise I had a mess to clean up. The sudden noise was so loud that it would literally scare the poop out of me.
Eventually the Xtreme 4000 was replaced by a much quieter automatic paper-towel dispenser. At first this unit was eager to please and we got along famously. I just had to wave my hand in its general direction and a foot of brown paper towel was dispensed for my hand-drying pleasure. It was no problem if I needed more as my little wall-mounted friend would happily produce towels for every wave of my hand. But then the dispenser changed toward me. As time passed its attention waned and I had to wave my hand closer and closer for it to take notice of me. It got to the point that I actually had to touch the device for it to give me what I needed. I knew our relationship had soured when it started making me wait five whole seconds between dispensing requests. No matter what I did to make amends, the spark was gone from our relationship. We still interact daily, but keep it on a purely professional level.
Then one weekend the building staff decided to put in new lighting. Before this remodeling project I can't say I ever noticed the configuration of the lights, but the room was always lit to a reasonable level. Unfortunately this was not the case after the new lights were installed. There must have been a "two-fer" sale at the Home Depot because they put in two florescent ceiling fixtures that hold four bulbs each, and a couple of smaller two-bulb fixtures over the sinks. That's twelve florescent bulbs in a 12x12 room! With this misguided implementation of the "more is better" philosophy, the end result was a room so bright that I found myself wishing for my sunglasses when I opened the bathroom door. Using the facilities was very problematic. As I tried to see through squinted eyes I think I successfully found the urinal. Eventually. (Sorry about the wall, guys.) When I got back to my desk one of my co-workers asked me where I had gotten the tan. This issue was finally resolved a couple of days later when most of the bulbs were removed so we could finally use the room with our eyes open. Ah, the luxury!
As a final exclamation point to the changes wrought in this room an automatic air freshener was added. At first all this device would do was beep in horror at being placed in such a small room. Later, it seemed to accept its lot and actually started to make noises like it was dispensing fragrance. While the building staff could have chosen scents like lilac, pine, or citrus, they went with the seldom-chosen poop scent. As you can imagine this has done nothing to improve the ambiance of the room. While Bugs Bunny might approve, this is one time I could have done without the use of a If-You-Can't-Beat-Em-Join-Em attitude.
I have no idea what is next for this little bathroom. After my painful episode with the paper towel machine I'm thankful that they haven't added automatic toilet paper dispensers, too. Those feelings are still too raw and I need time to heal. All I know is that if they add any kind of auto-magical butt-wiping machine I will be walking to the corner gas station for my sanitation needs. Trust me, it'll be worth it.
In all honesty I admit that I hate hand dryers. As far as I am concerned the procedure for using these things is as follows:
1. Put hands under dryer, or push the button, to start blower.These things never work well enough to make them worth the effort. Despite the Pollyanna assurances printed on the dryer about its effectiveness, after rubbing my hands like Peter Lorrie for a while I usually have to implement step three to get my hands in a state somewhere close to "dry" in a reasonable time frame. Which means within half an hour.
2. Rub hands together for 20-30 seconds.
3. Wipe hands on pants.
I had no such problems with the Xtreme 4000. With a howl reminiscent of a F-14 taking off from the deck of the USS Enterprise, this hefty dryer could blow the skin off of a zombie. (No, I wasn't able to test that. Despite much looking on my part, no zombies were available.) As it turned out the "4000" in its name indicated the wind speed it produced. This "little dryer that could" dried my hands in about 5 seconds flat, and also rid them of hair and dry skin at the same time.
The problem the the Xtreme dryer was the noise. The scream of the dryer was deafening in the small cinder-block bathroom. I found it best to be ensconced on the throne in one of the two stalls if the blower was activated when I was not expecting it. Otherwise I had a mess to clean up. The sudden noise was so loud that it would literally scare the poop out of me.
Eventually the Xtreme 4000 was replaced by a much quieter automatic paper-towel dispenser. At first this unit was eager to please and we got along famously. I just had to wave my hand in its general direction and a foot of brown paper towel was dispensed for my hand-drying pleasure. It was no problem if I needed more as my little wall-mounted friend would happily produce towels for every wave of my hand. But then the dispenser changed toward me. As time passed its attention waned and I had to wave my hand closer and closer for it to take notice of me. It got to the point that I actually had to touch the device for it to give me what I needed. I knew our relationship had soured when it started making me wait five whole seconds between dispensing requests. No matter what I did to make amends, the spark was gone from our relationship. We still interact daily, but keep it on a purely professional level.
Then one weekend the building staff decided to put in new lighting. Before this remodeling project I can't say I ever noticed the configuration of the lights, but the room was always lit to a reasonable level. Unfortunately this was not the case after the new lights were installed. There must have been a "two-fer" sale at the Home Depot because they put in two florescent ceiling fixtures that hold four bulbs each, and a couple of smaller two-bulb fixtures over the sinks. That's twelve florescent bulbs in a 12x12 room! With this misguided implementation of the "more is better" philosophy, the end result was a room so bright that I found myself wishing for my sunglasses when I opened the bathroom door. Using the facilities was very problematic. As I tried to see through squinted eyes I think I successfully found the urinal. Eventually. (Sorry about the wall, guys.) When I got back to my desk one of my co-workers asked me where I had gotten the tan. This issue was finally resolved a couple of days later when most of the bulbs were removed so we could finally use the room with our eyes open. Ah, the luxury!
As a final exclamation point to the changes wrought in this room an automatic air freshener was added. At first all this device would do was beep in horror at being placed in such a small room. Later, it seemed to accept its lot and actually started to make noises like it was dispensing fragrance. While the building staff could have chosen scents like lilac, pine, or citrus, they went with the seldom-chosen poop scent. As you can imagine this has done nothing to improve the ambiance of the room. While Bugs Bunny might approve, this is one time I could have done without the use of a If-You-Can't-Beat-Em-Join-Em attitude.
I have no idea what is next for this little bathroom. After my painful episode with the paper towel machine I'm thankful that they haven't added automatic toilet paper dispensers, too. Those feelings are still too raw and I need time to heal. All I know is that if they add any kind of auto-magical butt-wiping machine I will be walking to the corner gas station for my sanitation needs. Trust me, it'll be worth it.
April 22, 2008
A Mexican Nacho
When I found this sign in front of the local ice cream shop I was troubled on several levels. First, I was really looking forward to some Chinese nachos, or maybe some hearty German nachos. Sadly, all this place offers is Mexican nachos. It is a good thing they put it on the sign, though, or I could have been bitterly disappointed.Second, I was surprised to see that they are selling the nachos individually. Normally one pays for a plate of nachos, not just one chip at a time. I can't imagine that this trend will benefit the consumer. The per-nacho cost, when extended out to a plateful of chips, is sure to be more than the plate-o-nachos cost. I wonder if the government will include that in future inflation calculations.
All things considered I'm glad I stuck with my usual, a vanilla ice cream cone.
April 16, 2008
Good News and ...
Someone in our office thought they would be nice and give us a couple of two-liters bottles of Diet Pepsi. As you can see in the picture, anyone was welcome to partake in this bounty of beverage. The small smiley face adds just the right amount of whimsy to make this appealing to any Diet Pepsi drinker.But wait, what is that in the lower left hand corner of the note? A smudge? Spilled Diet Pepsi? No! This PostIt note actually has fine print. While it was too small for my cell phone camera to catch, it says "The pop might be flat." A small frowny face drives home the point that this might not be a good thing. Bummer!
So I have to applaud my co-worker who decided to put out foodstuff of questionable quality for us to consume. After all, we can't be too smart given where we work. I just hope we don't start seeing pizza boxes sitting out with notes that say "Anyone is welcome to eat this pizza. The pizza might be green."
April 15, 2008
A Well-Traveled Geek
It occurred to me recently just what a well-traveled guy I am. I have visited Buckingham Palace, seen the underside of the Eiffel tower, driven the Autobahn in Germany, walked in the villages around Normandy, motorcycled through the swamps of Louisiana, caught a train in Egypt, thoroughly explored the city of Bayview, and visited the many peoples on the island of Vvardenfell. Despite this impressive pedigree my passport remains uncluttered by visas and customs stamps. You might wonder how this could be, and my answer is simple: I am a well-traveled geek.
This really hit me last weekend as my wife and I were watching Rush Hour 3. At one point in the movie Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker parachute off of the Eiffel Tower and land in a nearby fountain. As the camera followed the duo into the water I fondly remembered driving my Audi TT through that very same fountain. But then something ugly intruded into my thoughts: reality.
I have never been France. Indeed, I have never left North America. I have the requisite trips to Canada and Mexico, but I have never boarded a plane or boat bound for England, Australia, or Japan. The longest I have flown has been from Michigan to California, and I have never been on a flight that showed a movie.
So then what of my memories of France, Egypt, Peru, and Scotland? Am I suffering from delusions or madness? No, I play video games. I drove throughout the city of Paris in Midtown Madness 3, and inflicted vehicular mayhem on London in Midtown Madness 2. I have visited Egypt and Peru with Lara Croft: Tomb Raider. I have sampled the Hong Kong night life with Indiana Jones. I have sped over the hills of San Francisco, and climbed to the rooftops of Tokyo.
In some cases my memories of the geography of these places is quite detailed. I learned more about getting around Washington DC from playing Midtown Madness 3 than I did from my visit there a few years ago. It just doesn't seem fair that all this experience shouldn't count just because it happened in a virtual medium. I am a world traveler, but I do most of my travel from in front of my Xbox.
So even though my physical passport is quite empty, my virtual passport is almost full. I can flip through the pages and remember all the places I visited and the adventures I had there. My luggage has never been lost, and the local water has never made me sick. And as I reach the last page I see I have another spot left open for a new destination. A new adventure that only a well-traveled geek can appreciate.
Russia, anyone?
This really hit me last weekend as my wife and I were watching Rush Hour 3. At one point in the movie Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker parachute off of the Eiffel Tower and land in a nearby fountain. As the camera followed the duo into the water I fondly remembered driving my Audi TT through that very same fountain. But then something ugly intruded into my thoughts: reality.
I have never been France. Indeed, I have never left North America. I have the requisite trips to Canada and Mexico, but I have never boarded a plane or boat bound for England, Australia, or Japan. The longest I have flown has been from Michigan to California, and I have never been on a flight that showed a movie.
So then what of my memories of France, Egypt, Peru, and Scotland? Am I suffering from delusions or madness? No, I play video games. I drove throughout the city of Paris in Midtown Madness 3, and inflicted vehicular mayhem on London in Midtown Madness 2. I have visited Egypt and Peru with Lara Croft: Tomb Raider. I have sampled the Hong Kong night life with Indiana Jones. I have sped over the hills of San Francisco, and climbed to the rooftops of Tokyo.
In some cases my memories of the geography of these places is quite detailed. I learned more about getting around Washington DC from playing Midtown Madness 3 than I did from my visit there a few years ago. It just doesn't seem fair that all this experience shouldn't count just because it happened in a virtual medium. I am a world traveler, but I do most of my travel from in front of my Xbox.
So even though my physical passport is quite empty, my virtual passport is almost full. I can flip through the pages and remember all the places I visited and the adventures I had there. My luggage has never been lost, and the local water has never made me sick. And as I reach the last page I see I have another spot left open for a new destination. A new adventure that only a well-traveled geek can appreciate.
Russia, anyone?
April 05, 2008
Rambling Rant: The Causes of War
When I was out driving not too long ago I saw a car with a bumper sticker that read "What Has Your Life Done To Prevent The Causes of War?" As I followed this person for a mile or so my eyes were riveted to that sticker and my mind filled with responses. Even though the question is vague and non-specific, I thought I understood the agenda and attitude that was behind it.
But first, a minor grammar rant: Certainly not one of the main points I want to make, but I have to point something out. "My Life" does nothing. I can't sit in my recliner and send "My Life" out to get some milk, write a novel, or find a cure for hangnails. The things that I do every day make up my life. So don't ask me what "My Life" has done; you might as well ask what "My Resume" has done. We now return to your regular rant already in progress...
This question was blaming me because war exists in this world. Our country is currently at war, at least in part, because I have not done anything to stop it. The whole point of the sticker was to fill me with guilt so that I would do something keep war from happening. I'm sure if I would have asked the driver of this car what I could do, I would have been told who I should vote for in the Presidential election. If we only get so-and-so in office, all war will cease. Yeah, right.
As it turns out, I don't respond very well to blatant attempts to make me feel guilty. I tend to get angry and sarcastic. OK, I'm sarcastic all the time but it's worse when I'm angry. So rather than running cars with stickers like this off the road, I will share what I have done to prevent the causes of war:
End of Rant.
But first, a minor grammar rant: Certainly not one of the main points I want to make, but I have to point something out. "My Life" does nothing. I can't sit in my recliner and send "My Life" out to get some milk, write a novel, or find a cure for hangnails. The things that I do every day make up my life. So don't ask me what "My Life" has done; you might as well ask what "My Resume" has done. We now return to your regular rant already in progress...
This question was blaming me because war exists in this world. Our country is currently at war, at least in part, because I have not done anything to stop it. The whole point of the sticker was to fill me with guilt so that I would do something keep war from happening. I'm sure if I would have asked the driver of this car what I could do, I would have been told who I should vote for in the Presidential election. If we only get so-and-so in office, all war will cease. Yeah, right.
As it turns out, I don't respond very well to blatant attempts to make me feel guilty. I tend to get angry and sarcastic. OK, I'm sarcastic all the time but it's worse when I'm angry. So rather than running cars with stickers like this off the road, I will share what I have done to prevent the causes of war:
- I have not invaded another country nor taken its lands for my own. (I did try to give Ohio away once, but that doesn't count.)
- I have not ordered or participated in the mass genocide of other peoples.
- I do not have, nor am I making, Weapons of Mass Destruction. (My wife might disagree with this one right after I've eaten baked beans or Mexican food.)
- I have never ousted an unfavorable regime so another who is more sympathetic to my goals could take power.
- I have never launched a preemptive strike. (Not even against Ohio State the week before the Michigan game.)
- I do not forget that war is a messy business that costs lives on both sides.
- I do not forget that once started a war must be seen to it's conclusion, otherwise it is like the surgeon leaving the table in the middle of an operation.
- I do not forget that young men and women have died in the service of America, and that they should be honored for that sacrifice.
- I do not forget that young men and women are living in harm's way right now in order to protect our country and others, and that they should be honored for their service.
- I do not believe one-sided media coverage that has more to do with furthering a political agenda than keeping me informed of what is happening in war-time.
- I do not demand that a war should be over just because I want it to be.
End of Rant.
March 28, 2008
Peep Poop Cake
As part of our Easter Sunday dinner my sister-in-law made a pretty cake that she intended to look like a sunflower. The part of the flower petals were played by bright yellow peeps. As you can see the cake was really well done (and yes, I am trying to make up for what comes next).
However, she didn't count on my arrival. When I saw the mound of chocolate frosting covered with chocolate chips and peeps I felt moved to come up with an alternate name for this cake. And since much of my humor revolves around pee or poop (or both) I quickly came up with "Peep Poop Cake".
So great was my haste to get my new-found title out of my mouth that it took me two tries. The first time sounded something like "Poop Peep Pake". Eventually, I managed to get the new name out of my mouth and beamed like a toddler who has filled the toilet for the first time (Hey, I'm working on a theme here).
My other sister-in-law, who is enamored with poop anyway, thought the new name was great. My wife probably just rolled her eyes, but I don't know as I didn't look to see. She has commented in the past on my predilection for scatological jokes, so I know what kind of reaction to expect from her.
Later, as I filled my plate with ham and mashed potatoes I could feel those beady black eyes boring into my back. I glanced over my shoulder at the peeps. They returned my look with a sugary, unblinking gaze and I felt a shiver slide down my back. Were they cute, canary-colored confections, or were they beings proficient in producing peep poop?
After stuffing myself full of dinner, and taking the required after-dinner nap, it was time to cut the cake. My sister-in-law laid out thick slabs of cake on little plates, each bearing a peep or two. When I was given my piece with a single peep affixed to the top I turned the plate so that the peep was looking away from me. If I was going to eat its poop, I didn't want him to see me do it.
Despite my misgivings I took a small bite of my cake. It was delicious. I tucked into my piece with gusto, and before long all that was left was my peep. As I scraped my plate clean with a fork I realized that I let my own name for the cake get the best of me. Peeps don't really poop, and what I ate was a terrific chocolate cake with chocolate frosting.
Unless, of course, peep poop tastes like chocolate.
So great was my haste to get my new-found title out of my mouth that it took me two tries. The first time sounded something like "Poop Peep Pake". Eventually, I managed to get the new name out of my mouth and beamed like a toddler who has filled the toilet for the first time (Hey, I'm working on a theme here).
My other sister-in-law, who is enamored with poop anyway, thought the new name was great. My wife probably just rolled her eyes, but I don't know as I didn't look to see. She has commented in the past on my predilection for scatological jokes, so I know what kind of reaction to expect from her.
After stuffing myself full of dinner, and taking the required after-dinner nap, it was time to cut the cake. My sister-in-law laid out thick slabs of cake on little plates, each bearing a peep or two. When I was given my piece with a single peep affixed to the top I turned the plate so that the peep was looking away from me. If I was going to eat its poop, I didn't want him to see me do it.
Despite my misgivings I took a small bite of my cake. It was delicious. I tucked into my piece with gusto, and before long all that was left was my peep. As I scraped my plate clean with a fork I realized that I let my own name for the cake get the best of me. Peeps don't really poop, and what I ate was a terrific chocolate cake with chocolate frosting.
Unless, of course, peep poop tastes like chocolate.
March 19, 2008
Dipwad Of The Day: Wal-Mart
I arrived at my local Wal-Mart at 7:30 this morning to get in some quick shopping before I was due at work. I often do my shopping at this time of the morning because I get to totally miss the meandering old people and screaming toddlers that take over the store during my lunch hour.
This Wal-Mart was recently converted to a SuperCenter, and stock has been reshuffled throughout the store over the last few months. A new sign on the building boasts they are open 24/7.
So without much thought I approached the doorway closest to where I parked my car (I was fiddling with my MP3 player, not an easy thing to do). As I neared the entrance I noticed a confused, older couple who were standing in front of the doors. They saw me coming and told me that the doors were locked, then they started the slow trek back to their car.
I stood there for a moment and checked that the doors were indeed locked. While the entryway was dark, I could see the interior of the store was fully lit. I noticed that the other entrance had some activity (which I assumed was people entering and leaving) so I walked over there. But as I got closer I noticed that the people were just standing around, like they were waiting for something.
I joined the semicircle of men who stood and watched people inside the store mill around. One of my fellow evictees said these doors were also locked, and that the employees were having a party to celebrate the grand opening of the SuperCenter.
We stood there for a few minutes, including this poor guy who was supposed to meet his wife (she was inside), and watched the people walk to and fro. Several of them saw us standing out there, but none were in a rush to let in a few paying customers.
Finally I gave a hearty, "Frak it!" and walked back to my car. As I crossed the damp pavement feeling unfulfilled and bitter I realized just how stupid this whole event was. In fact this kind of stupidity needed to be memorialized.
So I take great pleasure in naming my local Wal-Mart the recipient of my Dipwad Of The Day Award for closing their doors and turning away paying customers to celebrate their grand opening.
This Wal-Mart was recently converted to a SuperCenter, and stock has been reshuffled throughout the store over the last few months. A new sign on the building boasts they are open 24/7.
So without much thought I approached the doorway closest to where I parked my car (I was fiddling with my MP3 player, not an easy thing to do). As I neared the entrance I noticed a confused, older couple who were standing in front of the doors. They saw me coming and told me that the doors were locked, then they started the slow trek back to their car.
I stood there for a moment and checked that the doors were indeed locked. While the entryway was dark, I could see the interior of the store was fully lit. I noticed that the other entrance had some activity (which I assumed was people entering and leaving) so I walked over there. But as I got closer I noticed that the people were just standing around, like they were waiting for something.
I joined the semicircle of men who stood and watched people inside the store mill around. One of my fellow evictees said these doors were also locked, and that the employees were having a party to celebrate the grand opening of the SuperCenter.
We stood there for a few minutes, including this poor guy who was supposed to meet his wife (she was inside), and watched the people walk to and fro. Several of them saw us standing out there, but none were in a rush to let in a few paying customers.
Finally I gave a hearty, "Frak it!" and walked back to my car. As I crossed the damp pavement feeling unfulfilled and bitter I realized just how stupid this whole event was. In fact this kind of stupidity needed to be memorialized.
So I take great pleasure in naming my local Wal-Mart the recipient of my Dipwad Of The Day Award for closing their doors and turning away paying customers to celebrate their grand opening.
January 24, 2008
Politically Incorrect Literature
A recent news story in the London Times (see it here) told about a re-telling of the Three Little Pigs that was criticized by judges in a contest because it was considered to be offensive to Muslims and those in the construction industry.
Apparently because Muslims are forbidden to eat pork, they might take offense at a children's story that features pigs. Construction workers might take offense in the facts that the builders were pigs, two of the houses fell down, and the the pigs wore cowboy hats (as not all builders are cowboys).
Moby Dick - This brutal story depicts the objectification, degradation, and murder of the proudest of sea creatures. This leads to feelings of isolation and poor self-esteem in the whale community, and in those who study and care for whales. In a related note, humpback whales should now be referred to as spine-challenged whales.
Go, Dog, Go - In this supposedly innocent children's book those who drive cars are depicted as dogs, which is very demeaning. It assumes that all drivers like to stick their heads out of the window as they drive, and that a healthy percentage of all drivers have fleas. This book also offends the color blind with its heavy reliance on the colors green and red for "go" and "stop".
Green Eggs and Ham - Here we go with the pork products again, so strike one for offending the Muslims. Strike two for offending the lactose intolerant at the thought of being relentlessly badgered to try the eggs by the evil Sam I Am. Strike three is the obvious bias against the color green by depicting it as unsavory and unappetizing, which marginalizes green-colored folk like Kermit the Frog and the Jolly Green Giant.
A Christmas Carol - This book clearly advocates a class structure of "haves" and "have nots", and also contains disturbing scenes that may upset the recently dead. There is not one female character in the book named Carol, which could cause stress and disappointment to those so named. The frequent use of the word "Christmas" is sure to offend the Muslims, Hindu, Wiccans, pagans, agnostics, atheists, adherents of Festivus, and followers of the Invisible Pink Unicorn that might read this book. I would suggest we need a new edition of this book called A Non-Denominational Mid-Winter Song of Joy and Happiness.
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