Some Things Never Change

A few weeks back, my son returned home from college after his finals to visit us for a couple of days. It was a short visit. He was taking extra classes this summer semester and found a summer job nearby campus, so he needed to get back. Well, I'm pretty sure he came to visit anyway. There were miscellaneous sightings from my wife and me, along with a few neighbors. Further proof? There were baskets of clothes sitting by the washer in need of serious laundering, a whole bunch of food was missing from the refrigerator, and all my beer was gone. Circumstantial evidence perhaps, but still a dead giveaway my son was home. I know, I know, I'm kidding and exaggerating. I really did see and interact with him in the flesh. He needed money - again.

One night, my son wanders into the house with about a dozen of his friends and they were all gushing about how cool something or another was as they were passing around the ear buds to his iPod. I asked him what was so interesting. His response was, "We're listening to a live Podcast of a band we all like. This technology is so cool. Can you believe it? It's streaming live right now from a club downtown."

I started to think about this, and for some reason began blinking. I'm not sure if it was just my mind processing what he just said, or if I was developing a nervous tick thinking about the 3 BMW's I could have owned, all tossed away in the form of a college tuition.

"So... what's so cool about that?" I asked.

"Dad, it's LIVE! It's happening right now, and we're listening to it via a stream! Just imagine all the technology to do that!"

Oh, imagine I did. I had this gnawing feeling inside me, a sense of Deja Vu about all this technology and its application to everyday life. And then it hit me.



I tell ya, the iPod ain't got nothin' over this baby! It's completely portable and powered by a replaceable battery - no charger needed. And of course it comes complete with an earbud - one. But hey, you don't need an ear bud because it can play through a built in speaker, so folks didn't have to pass around or share that ear bud. Ha! And here's the best thing - it picks up LIVE streams of AM signal. Can you imagine that? I'm talking about live people, music, and events you can listen to in real time. In fact, listening to a live Podcast ... sorry, I meant Broadcast of the 1965 World Series on that technological wonder landed me a detention in Mrs. McF's class. She just didn't appreciate sports or technology it seems. Luckily, I only had to write, "I will not take my transistor radio to class" one hundred times on the blackboard before being sent home.

As I reflect on all this marvelous technology it occurs to me, in many ways, little has changed. In fact, as I look at the box above, with that "hip" guy and young woman in Go-Go boots holding onto that radio grooving to the music, it bears a strange resemblance to what arguably must be their kids 30 years later:

Devil With The Blue Dress On - probably not on your iPod but always playing on that transistor radio.


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3D Television - Still a Fantasy

I was shopping with my wife the other day at Costco, a warehouse type store with dozens and dozens of TV's on display. She ventured off to look at some jewelry while I wandered up and down the electronics aisles looking at all the flat panel sets arranged in sizes ranging from very, very large to downright ostentatious. At the end of one aisle, I came across a demonstration display for a monstrous-sized 3D screen, complete with sample glasses mounted on a viewing stand so folks could take turns looking at the images in full three dimensional glory. There was this really cool demo program running, so I thought I'd see what all the fuss was about.

They were showing a sequence of free-style ski jumps and the 3D images were simply awesome! I couldn't contain my excitement at how cool it was to see the skiers fly out of the TV screen as they launched into their twists and turns right in front of me. Naturally, I wanted to share this excitement with my wife, so I called her over, asking her to check out this really cool 3D TV I found. And naturally, she walked over to where I was standing to see what I was so excited about. Of course precisely when she came within eyeshot of set, the demo program switched over to incredibly attractive athletic women in bikinis playing beach volleyball...

The good news is, I saved a bunch of money and I won't be at risk for becoming a couch potato. Who needs a stupid 3D set anyway?
...
...
Dammit!

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A Public Service Announcement for Men

We have a local pub in the neighborhood with good eats and great brews. On the nights when there is no band to entertain, the pub is host to Karaoke, a most amusing practice of taking a perfectly good song, stripping away the vocal track, and handing a microphone to a bar patron to sing it. There's nothing like watching a slightly inebriated volunteer who, after downing a few drinks, grabs hold of the microphone and attempts to belt out a song slightly out of key and give the audience an interesting interpretation of lyrics slurring out of his or her mouth. Notice I said watching. The listening is an entirely different experience. The neighborhood dogs are known to howl for miles around - and I'm not sure you want to know what they are saying.

But I digress (I know, I am easily distracted - sorry).

Gentlemen, listen up! If you should ever find yourself in a pub with Karaoke tempting you to show off your vocal instrument, it is rather important to make sure you heed the following advice. Take a careful look at the song list and make sure you strike off certain songs simply not designed to be sung by our gender. While Joan Jett can rock with the best of guys, and Heart's Annie and Nancy Wilson can kick ass with the uber macho, the reverse rarely works. Not sure why, and that's not the point of this important public service announcement!

There is no particular order here, but if you see ANY of these on your karaoke list, do yourselves a big favor and move on to another song...



Nope, this just won't work for you - trust me!



Now I don't care how toe-tapping and up-beat this tune is, there is no amount of alcohol that will pull you out of the fire once you shout out those initial words, "Let's go girls!" Yikes!

So... you may be thinking (not too sharply after four or five beers) that you could make a go of this one:



Well I'm here to tell you to put the mic down and back away slowly! I don't care if your friends said they would stand next to you as back-up singers, swaying and cooing "Ah, ooh!" in rhythm to the song. Remember, they are as drunk as you are!

I realize the above were some of the more obvious tunes to avoid, but there are others whose titles do not have an easily recognizable "I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar" warning flag to you manly men. There are lots of treacherous songs on a Karaoke list that are manly Karaoke disasters waiting to happen. For example:



You really didn't think you could pull off that breathy post-orgasmic sigh like Diana Ross, did you? Sheesh! Besides, as a real man, you'd be snoring, not sighing after an orgasm. Save the hangover for the Jack Daniels you're throwing down for the night.

One last category that you should avoid on your list of bad Karaoke choices falls under the "I'm The MAN" genre:



Er... um... this might work for Right Said Fred, but it just doesn't have the same effect with you prancing around in jeans that fit snug 15 years ago, and sort of still do although at a much, much lower position with butt-crack showing and your belt buckle turned downward pointing in a south-south-east direction. Add to that the sight of those graying back hairs working their way through the holes in your 1986 NCAA tournament tee, and you have the recipe for a stampede to the exit doors. Please don't do it!

Well fellas, due to time constraints, this public service announcement must end here. Gentlemen, if you are still confused about selecting Karaoke songs, please feel free to message me. Always remember, choose wisely.

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Greetings!

I don't want everyone (or at least the four or five folks who actually read my blog) thinking I'm really deep or profound all the time. I am easily amused observing trivial little ironies at some of the most mundane things; unfortunately at the expense of random folks forced to deal with me at those moments. Witness the following, an example of me in shallow, self-absorbed mode.

Those who know me know that I rarely set foot in a card store. I have what I thought was an endless supply of blank card stock - you know, the kind with an innocuous design on the outside and completely blank on the inside. I've used these for years to send personal handwritten notes to everyone I know for any and all occasions. Small problem - the endless supply ran out and my son's birthday is coming up next week, so I thought I'd drop in the local card store at lunch to pick up a birthday card. As soon as I arrive I am greeted by a really perky, friendly store associate. Her name is Meg and she asks me what am I looking for. I tell her I am looking for a birthday card. Simple question, simple answer.

Meg then asks me, "What kind of birthday card are you looking for?"

"Huh? Um... how about one that says Happy Birthday?"

"They all say that. Well, actually some don't. What I meant is, who is the card for?"

"Oh. My son."

"Over here. Follow me."

Criminy! We walk past a gauntlet of hundreds upon hundreds of specialty cards designed to be sent by cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, friends, in-laws, out-laws, current lovers, clandestine lovers, and prison cell-mates. Finally we arrive at the section labeled "Son" - right next to the Son-in-law section and just above the Juvenile Son section. I guess it's a rather slow day in the card store, because Meg is hanging around, watching me as I look over the cards. Or maybe she's just worried I'll run off with a bunch of birthday cards and sell them out of the trunk of my car. I hear the "To my Secretary/Mistress on her Birthday" is a real high demand item.

The very first card I grab says, "To Son on his Birthday." I can't help but notice Meg hovering over me while I'm smiling a bit, shaking my head with disbelief at the card.

"Is there something wrong?" she asks.

I can feel the devilish temptation to be snarky coming on. (Don't do it, you'll feel bad about it later. Must resist! Must not say something snarky. Must not... ... ... dammit!) I can't help myself.

"You know Meg, I'm pretty sure my son knows it's his birthday, and that's why we're sending him a card. He's in college you see. Yes, smart kid. And I am totally convinced he knows he's our son. Why, just last week he asked me for money - again. I'd say he's got the son thing down pat. So I'm not sure we need a card that tells him who he is and why we're sending it."

She offers a smile. "Nothing wrong with being crystal clear."

"I suppose so, but tell me, who is this on the cover of the card?"

"Oh, it's just a picture of a young man - fishing."

"But the young man in the picture is not my son. And my real son doesn't fish. Why would I send my son a card that says, 'To Son on his Birthday' with a picture of a strange young man doing something my son doesn't do?" Actually I'm starting to get confused myself.

She offers, "Well, if you don't want that card, we've got plenty more right here. What are you looking for?"

"How about one that says Happy Birthday?"

Meg is no longer smiling, and I feel a bit guilty about my snarkiness. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be a smart-ass. Let me look through these and I'll try to find one on my own." I start to go through the assorted cards. Sheesh! What a collection!

• Son, we are so proud of you on your Birthday. (What, no one is proud on the other 364 days?)
  
• What is a Son? (Are you kidding me?)
• For a Special Son. (I feel sorry for all those regular sons.)
  

Finally! A card that just says Happy Birthday on the outside. I pick it up and open it to read what is written on the inside.
...
...
Gaaaaa!!!!

"Oh Meg?"

"Yes?"

"Do you have blank cards?"

"On the side wall."

Thankfully, I found a nice collection of blank card stock - you know, the kind with the innocuous design on the outside and completely blank on the inside. As I approach the register to pay, a very nice, perky store manager asks me if I'd like to buy some Halloween cards.

...
...

"Er... um... People send out cards for Halloween???"

I could see Meg out of the corner of my eye bolting for the back of the store. I guess it must have been time for her work break.

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