Thursday, May 18, 2006

Can You Hear Me Now


I like Apple. I really do. They have been the cool company for twenty years now. So what’s happened? I wonder if it was the rush of iPod mania? It seems like Steve’s head has expanded beyond the normal gargantuan proportions.

I know, I know, how could I say anything bad about Apple. The heresy, the outrage. Well it’s not so much about the products, they still rawk, but the way they are being fed to us is well, not cool. Remember all of those ad’s throughout the years, the groundbreaking 1984 theme, the Think Different stuff, then the iPod everyone’s a rock star spots...All brilliant. But then came the Stanley Kubric 2001 A Space Odyssey rip off which also stole directly from the band Postal Service. C’mon, a copy of a copy, and this from Apple the innovator. The talk on the Net was harsh, and maybe Steve’o listened cuz the spot aired like maybe 3 times before being pulled. But now…

Who came up with this PC vs Apple parody? Yeah, it’s pretty funny. You know, the cool hipster making fun of the poor Bill Gates look alike, ha, witty as hell. But what are you trying to do here Apple, sell computers or alienate a new segment of the market? Apple has all these new Intel machines coming out that can run Windows and MacOS, so instead of embracing these new potential customers Apple tells them they just aren’t cool enough to use a new MacBook. Duh, fire the ad agency and start again.

Speaking of the MacBook, who came up with that name? We have McNuggets, we have McMansions, we don’t need McLaptops. The name iPod is cool the name MacBook is not.

Remember the Sony Walkman? As great as the iPod is I think it’s destined to be the next Walkman. Oh no, heresy again. Naw, just the writing on the wall. Apple’s new venture with Japanese telecom giant Softbank just sealed the iPod’s fate. The golden era is over. Who will need a separate player when your new phone will have all of the newest music features that Apple has to offer?



iTalk anyone?

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Better Late...


I hate being sick!


I’ve been stuffed up with a sore throat for over a week now. I know what it must be like to live in a submarine because that’s what my head feels like and every word I say seems to reverberate through some weird echo chamber. I wonder if most men are babies about illness? I think women are just tougher about things. Now I mean most real women not those French poodle women we see on TV. You know the mothers and wives and sisters of all us normal folk. Hell, they have to be tougher, they’ve had babies. I remember my wife carrying a Ziploc bag with her for 4 months during her pregnancy just so she wouldn’t have to pull over the car when a wave of nausea hit. Blech! Morning sickness…send me to the ER!

We want our women to be soft and cuddly and sexy and caring and kind, and they are those things. But I think deep down all of us men know they can still kick our ass when it comes to dealing with pain and suffering.

I hate being sick!

Happy Late Mothers Day

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

A Full Heart








I live in a small hick town in the middle of nowhere. How I became stranded here is a long story that I will probably tell sometime. I don’t fit here and never will because it is one of those places that you have to be born to. This whole part of the state is like that and that’s just the way it is.

I left friends and family to move out here, and at the time it seemed like a good idea. But now, years later it feels like being awash in a storm with no compass in sight. Life has really hurt here. My problems are no different than yours. I’ve lost several important people in the past couple of years and have the regrets we all have. I didn’t say I loved you enough. I didn’t spend the time I should have. I was selfish, and now I can’t repair what pain I may have caused. My wife and I endure the daily routine of tolerating intolerance and suffering fools. I never believed life was meant to be hand to mouth.


The one true friend we were given in this place is dying.

I just received this email:

Well I hate to be the one to pass along this update because it is not a good one.

Of the 17% or less function of Kenneth's heart - over 90% is completely blocked. Because of the low amount of functioning he is not a candidate for any kind of surgery except a heart transplant. Heart transplants are not without strings attached. He would have to live in Dallas in a sterile environment for 2 years - he also has to prove the ability to pay for anti-rejection drugs for the rest of his life to the tune of $2000.00 per month. So that truly is not an option - they are talking about it but....

They feel without a transplant he has 1 to 2 years of life but with the extreme blockage he could have a massive heart attack at anytime.

They may send him home as early as today - they are concerned about the pain he is still having and I guess that is the factor keeping him in the hospital at this time.

Pray

Kenny is a black man, I’m not. Kenny is my friend and I am his. He is the most caring, compassionate and hardworking man I know. He has tolerated intolerance and endured struggles that I can never know. He always smiles. He has suffered and felt pain that is unimaginable to me. He always greets me with a handshake and hug.

I have been knocked on my ass for so long it is sometimes hard to see beyond my fingertips. But today I know my life is good and my problems are small. I can't type anymore...

I love you Kenny.

Friday, May 05, 2006

Castles in the Sky

If you're an info carnivore, holy carpe diem, here's the site for you. You get the latest and greatest from sites like....flickr, del.icio.us, fark, youtube, slashdot, wired, and a whole lot more, all with one freakin clik of the mouse. Damn, I'm lazy.

And the first thing I found?......













Sand is sand, right? Wrong. Check it out.

Thursday, May 04, 2006

Psst......Hey Buddy

I'm really beat today, and maybe tommorrow I will have time to post about it, but for now I just couldn't pass up this absurdity.

I'm not a thief, or at least not a career criminal. I mean sure I've lifted the odd trinket from the Dollar General when I was 10, but I didn't have to do any time. My mother caught me and made me go back and apologize to the owner. Trust me, walking in there and saying sorry to this old ex-hippie with the wandering eye was worse than the slammer. Especially with a warm dampness in your pants. So I'm not a con, but I think I would still be better at it than these guys.........



3 of the 6 guys that stole one of the most famous paintings in existence have been found guilty. Well duh?



All three are Norwegian. I think they were just all tanked up on some stout ale trying to keep their asses from freezin' off when Bjorn comes up with this great idea for a heist. I'm also pretty sure they had just finished watching Oceans Twelve.







When you get out boys, I gotta couple more for ya.......


Tuesday, May 02, 2006

What Do You Want











Gimme a label. Gimme a name. Gimme an ethnicity. Gimme what you got. Gimme a place to belong.

I told you that I wasn’t liberal and I told you I wasn’t conservative. Labels have never united people. So am I poor white trash? Am I European American? Am I Irish or am I Scotch? I don’t have a clue.

My father was adopted as a baby and never had any desire to learn his biological heritage. So my history stops with him. I admire and envy all of the immigrants to this country that can trace their heritage back to Montezuma or the Prince of Prussia or Uncle Bert in Poland. These are things that give us a foundation and add to who we are.

I have always wanted to know where I came from or as my father’s adoptive mother used to say “who my people were”. It has been a ripple under the surface of my whole life. An itch I just couldn’t scratch. I will never really know the answer to this question, but I do know where I am now. I am here in the United States of America and I am an American. I am proud and disgusted with that knowledge, simultaneously, and to differing degrees each and every day.

We are a nation of mutts. Pound puppies that some how got pardoned. All of my dogs have come from the Humane Society, because maybe I did too. They all have little quirks that they haven’t been able to overcome. One is timid and un-trusting of strangers. One will still hoard and gobble down every scrap of food in sight. And the third barks all the time, just to show all the neighbor dogs how tough he is. I gave them all a second chance at life and love and acceptance. And if I could ask them, I doubt any one of them would choose their old life over their new one.

Are we so much different? This whole immigration thing has spiraled into a them against us thing, once again. What the hell is wrong with this country?

This debate is not about immigration, it is about illegal immigration. I don’t know where my ancestors came from, but I’m sure it was from somewhere much worse than here. And I also know that I am a citizen now. So whatever hardships they had to endure, I owe an un-payable debt of gratitude to those anonymous family members for giving me that honor.We have immigration laws. Enforce them or change them. If you want to live here, become a citizen, speak the language and abide by the law. Pay your taxes. Send your kids to school. Raise them with love and respect for others. Don’t ask for things that you haven’t earned. Be an American and not just a hyphen. I find it offensive that our government and our work forms always have an area to state our ethnicity. Go crazy and mark other, and in that blank space write American. We are the only place that is made from every place.

Celebrate that
















Or maybe I'm just simple minded?