I want to take you all back exactly one year today...
I had been chatting rather amiably with a nice girl that I met through Yahoo Personals for about 2 weeks. In "my day", that would have been a strange way to meet someone ("Why not just go to the club?"), but I'm a liberally minded, 21st-century guy, so there you have it.
Anyway, we made a date to meet each other for the first time in person on April 28th. I'll be the first to admit that the idea of a blind date had me quaking in my boots (okay, I don't wear boots, but you get the picture...). And, from what I have since learned, she wasn't much calmer about the proposition. Still, being two grown adults, we swallowed our fears and met on that fateful day.
We chose to go to a movie (always a safe bet for a first date) and, since there was a bookstore right next to the theatre, I suggested we meet there.
I made sure to arrive well ahead of time, so I could stake out a good spot. I wanted to see every person who came in so I'd be sure not to miss her. I had only seen a couple of pictures of her and I had no idea how old they were... How embarrassing if I didn't recognize my date! So, I grabbed a book and managed to find a chair that gave me a perfect view of the only door. If only I hadn't picked such a good book...
As I was becoming very engrossed in the fiction, I suddenly felt very much that I was being watched... I looked first to the door, hoping it was just my intuition alerting me to her entrance. Nothing. Then I turned turned to my left, and there she was.
The first thing I noticed is that she was trying very hard to blend into the bookcase she was hugging for dear life. Okay, well at least I wasn't alone in my nervousness... The next thing I noticed was that she was far prettier than the pictures I had been sent. Naturally, this pleased me very much... for a moment. Then I began to worry about what she thought of me! Well, no time like the present to find out, I thought...
I closed my book, stood up from my chair, and walked straight over to her. Then, in an uncharacteristic move, I hugged her, saying, "Hi there." And that was it. At that very instant, I felt like I had known this girl my whole life. In fact, I told her on a subsequent date, "I met you last Tuesday... a thousand years ago."
Today is funny, really, because she hasn't fully recovered from her eye surgery, so what started as a Blind Date has lead us to a Nearly-Blind Anniversary a year later! But, I have to say, it's been a year filled with a lot of fun, a lot of love, and a lot of happiness. So, I'd like to dedicate today's post to her, my little Dancer on the Sand, and to the many years I know we have ahead of us...
Here's to you and our future, honey...
Wednesday, April 28, 2004
Tuesday, April 27, 2004
Scenes from the Forklift: An Old Face
A big "Welcome!" goes out to Calvin Klein, former member of the Old Crew, whose return for the summer promises to breathe some of the old life back into the place... CK was actually one of the first people to train yours truly back in the days before Mass Storage Area One even existed (in a place aptly referred to as "the old building"). Now, he's back to ride shotgun in the Department of Inbound Deliveries and, more importantly, to take the lead on Project X. More on that later...
Speaking of the Department of Inbound Deliveries... I returned after my 4-day foray into the world of home nursing to find a veritable mountain of computer cast-offs, all patiently awaiting my attention and assessment in cleverly laid-out, random piles. It was, quite literally, difficult to make heads or tails of the area. But, with a little hard work (those of you who know me personally, don't laugh) and some much appreciated help from the aforementioned CK, it's coming back together nicely after only 2 days. Do I rock, or what?
Speaking of the Department of Inbound Deliveries... I returned after my 4-day foray into the world of home nursing to find a veritable mountain of computer cast-offs, all patiently awaiting my attention and assessment in cleverly laid-out, random piles. It was, quite literally, difficult to make heads or tails of the area. But, with a little hard work (those of you who know me personally, don't laugh) and some much appreciated help from the aforementioned CK, it's coming back together nicely after only 2 days. Do I rock, or what?
Sunday, April 25, 2004
All I Can Think Of
I do believe that I have Writer's Block...
It's been a number of days since my last post and, despite my decision to make an entry every day, I can't come up with anything. I've been at the computer off and on a million times this weekend, checking email, playing a game or two, and reading blogs, but I haven't been able to do any writing.
Yep, it's Writer's Block...
My brain has been spinning, trying to come up with one good idea to write about. I thought about hockey, but since the Flames' lackluster performance against Detroit yesterday (they got pounded 5 - 2), I decided to leave that alone for a while. Then, I figured I could right about my girlfriend's recent Laser Eye Surgery, but I want to wait until the recovery is over before tackling that one. And writing about my Great Decaffeination isn't exciting as long as nothing new has happened. I've cast my penny into the Well of Inspiration and heard it clink! against the bottom...
So, now I'm wondering about this whole Writer's Block thing... It's kinda cool, really. Just think, you're a writer and you can't come up with anything worthwhile. Well, you just say, "I've got Writer's Block" and everyone suddenly becomes very understanding and supportive. "Don't worry, it'll come", they say... Or, "Hey, don't force it, just let it happen"... What other job allows for this easy way out? Can you imagine going to your job at McDonald's one day and telling your manager that you have Burger Block? "That's okay, Billy, you just go sit and read the paper until you feel like flipping those All Beef Patties again." Not likely. Or how about a lifeguard with Swimmer's Block? "Gee, I could have saved him, but I just can't bring myself to swim today..." It's pretty obvious how well that would go over. No, the tolerance for not being able to do your job consistently from one day to the next is pretty low... unless you're a writer.
Hmmm... Seems I've gotten pretty far into writing a post, despite my Writer's Block... The downside is, I can't think of a clever way to end it! Is there such thing as Finisher's Block...?
It's been a number of days since my last post and, despite my decision to make an entry every day, I can't come up with anything. I've been at the computer off and on a million times this weekend, checking email, playing a game or two, and reading blogs, but I haven't been able to do any writing.
Yep, it's Writer's Block...
My brain has been spinning, trying to come up with one good idea to write about. I thought about hockey, but since the Flames' lackluster performance against Detroit yesterday (they got pounded 5 - 2), I decided to leave that alone for a while. Then, I figured I could right about my girlfriend's recent Laser Eye Surgery, but I want to wait until the recovery is over before tackling that one. And writing about my Great Decaffeination isn't exciting as long as nothing new has happened. I've cast my penny into the Well of Inspiration and heard it clink! against the bottom...
So, now I'm wondering about this whole Writer's Block thing... It's kinda cool, really. Just think, you're a writer and you can't come up with anything worthwhile. Well, you just say, "I've got Writer's Block" and everyone suddenly becomes very understanding and supportive. "Don't worry, it'll come", they say... Or, "Hey, don't force it, just let it happen"... What other job allows for this easy way out? Can you imagine going to your job at McDonald's one day and telling your manager that you have Burger Block? "That's okay, Billy, you just go sit and read the paper until you feel like flipping those All Beef Patties again." Not likely. Or how about a lifeguard with Swimmer's Block? "Gee, I could have saved him, but I just can't bring myself to swim today..." It's pretty obvious how well that would go over. No, the tolerance for not being able to do your job consistently from one day to the next is pretty low... unless you're a writer.
Hmmm... Seems I've gotten pretty far into writing a post, despite my Writer's Block... The downside is, I can't think of a clever way to end it! Is there such thing as Finisher's Block...?
Thursday, April 22, 2004
High Speed Update
Hockeytown Meets Cowtown
The Calgary Flames have managed to steal Game One from the Detroit Red Wings in yet another overtime match-up. While so far lacking the intensity of the Flames-Canucks series, this one has potential...
"Calling Nurse Cuppojoe..."
Well gang, I'll be spending the rest of this week, along with the weekend, taking care of the bravest girlfriend a guy could ask for. She's just had Laser Eye Surgery to finally rid herself of the glasses she's been burdened with since childhood. Yep, the ol' rims got to be too much of a pain, so she traded 'em in for having a guy tape her eyelids to her eyebrows, cut and peel back her corneas, and fire a laser into her eyes. Best quote from the doctor? "Don't worry if you smell burning flesh... That's normal." Okay...
Move Over, Not-So-Hotmail
I, too, have just joined the ranks of GMail Beta users and I have one word: Awesome. It's just like those first days of email, when we were all still amazed we could send messages around the world in the blink of an eye. With all the emails I handle at work and at home now, I thought those days of wonderment were gone for good. I should have known Google would find a way to knock my socks off again!
3 Weeks and Counting
If any of you are still keeping track (and I doubt you are), then you're aware that I've now gone without my beloved coffee for a full 21 days. That's right... My resolve is still strong. In fact, I can almost get through a day without thinking about it now. I'm noticing that I have much higher energy levels and they are more evened out, instead of spiking and dipping all the time. I figure I'll keep this up 'til I no longer see any more improvements, then I'll re-acquaint myself with the Greatest Drink on Earth.
From the Workplace
Rockstar, a long-time member of our company's Purchase Coercion Unit has acquired a lovely new debt for himself, which he had fashioned in the shape of a wristwatch. This should help him stand out better at the Supermarket while perusing the variety of fine Macaroni and Cheese dinners now available under his revised Personal Budget Plan for 2004...
Tuesday, April 20, 2004
Wheels Stay on the Band Wagon
Unbelievable! The 15-year drought is finally over! The Calgary Flames have awakened true Hockey Fever in the Stampede City once again...
It was an intense ending to an intense series. The six games leading up to last night were all about gritty, physical play and Game 7 was no different. It was a tale of two teams... Vancouver, looking to regain the spark from earlier in the season... Calgary, desperately needing to get the monkey off their back by finally winning a playoff series... The Canucks, showing their composure under pressure as only the "Cardiac Kids" can... The Flames, refusing to give in to the odds-makers and settle for an early golf season...
Both teams played equally well throughout the course of the game, but Calgary managed to secure a one-goal lead coming into the final minutes of regulation time. Then, an undisciplined penalty in front of the Calgary net put Vancouver Canuck Ed Jovanovski into the penalty box... Vancouver pulled their goalie in favor of the extra attacker... Calgary's tight defense caused a turn-over at the Calgary blue line... With 20 seconds left in the game, Jarome Iginla raced for the empty net, checked by the Vancouver defense... A weak shot that grazed the outside of the post... No worries, the clock was ticking down and Calgary could feel the victory coming. I was literally on the edge of my seat. And then the world turned upside down.
Vancouver regained possession of the puck and made a dash for Calgary territory. Iginla, back checking, had his stick knocked from his hands and, in very uncharacteristic fashion, tripped over it and fell. The Canucks charged into the zone and, with only 5.7 seconds remaining, managed to slide the equalizer past Miika Kiprusoff.
Heartbreak... Anger... Disappointment... Betrayal...
I went through the entire range of emotions as I watched that puck cross the line. In fact, I vowed that I would never again cheer for the Calgary Flames if they lost that game. I know, that makes me a fairweather fan, but let's face it, 15 years of letdown is hard to overcome!
Amazingly, Calgary began the overtime period with lots of jump and made good use of the remaining penalty minutes given to Jovanovski. This city erupted in celebration as Martin Gelinas put away the game winner in only 1 minute and 25 seconds.
So, the Flames advance to meet the mighty Detroit Red Wings and it's the Canucks who will be swinging their golf clubs in frustration... The Band wagon rolls on...
It was an intense ending to an intense series. The six games leading up to last night were all about gritty, physical play and Game 7 was no different. It was a tale of two teams... Vancouver, looking to regain the spark from earlier in the season... Calgary, desperately needing to get the monkey off their back by finally winning a playoff series... The Canucks, showing their composure under pressure as only the "Cardiac Kids" can... The Flames, refusing to give in to the odds-makers and settle for an early golf season...
Both teams played equally well throughout the course of the game, but Calgary managed to secure a one-goal lead coming into the final minutes of regulation time. Then, an undisciplined penalty in front of the Calgary net put Vancouver Canuck Ed Jovanovski into the penalty box... Vancouver pulled their goalie in favor of the extra attacker... Calgary's tight defense caused a turn-over at the Calgary blue line... With 20 seconds left in the game, Jarome Iginla raced for the empty net, checked by the Vancouver defense... A weak shot that grazed the outside of the post... No worries, the clock was ticking down and Calgary could feel the victory coming. I was literally on the edge of my seat. And then the world turned upside down.
Vancouver regained possession of the puck and made a dash for Calgary territory. Iginla, back checking, had his stick knocked from his hands and, in very uncharacteristic fashion, tripped over it and fell. The Canucks charged into the zone and, with only 5.7 seconds remaining, managed to slide the equalizer past Miika Kiprusoff.
Heartbreak... Anger... Disappointment... Betrayal...
I went through the entire range of emotions as I watched that puck cross the line. In fact, I vowed that I would never again cheer for the Calgary Flames if they lost that game. I know, that makes me a fairweather fan, but let's face it, 15 years of letdown is hard to overcome!
Amazingly, Calgary began the overtime period with lots of jump and made good use of the remaining penalty minutes given to Jovanovski. This city erupted in celebration as Martin Gelinas put away the game winner in only 1 minute and 25 seconds.
So, the Flames advance to meet the mighty Detroit Red Wings and it's the Canucks who will be swinging their golf clubs in frustration... The Band wagon rolls on...
Sunday, April 18, 2004
A Look at the Inside
Borrowing a page from the infamous "Call Centre Confidential", I have decided to use this space to occasionally recount the adventures I endure day-in and day-out at a computer remanufacturing centre. So, without further ado:
Chapter One: Enter the Newlings
As the weekend draws to a close, I can't help but wonder what tomorrow will bring... The Powers That Be have finally decided that the manpower shortage in Mass Storage Area One has gone on long enough, what with one man (yours truly) handling Incoming, another tending to Outgoing, and 2 incapacitated Labourers (there's another story there, I assure you).
So, for the first time in many months, the company coffers are being pried open and we're going to be seeing fresh blood in the ranks. Yes sir, they've gone over the resumes, held the interviews, and made the callbacks. What we have now are qualified individuals, highly experienced in their fields, and ready to help the team. All that remains is to make them forget everything they know and show them how to do it all our way...
Tomorrow will be interesting, indeed.
Borrowing a page from the infamous "Call Centre Confidential", I have decided to use this space to occasionally recount the adventures I endure day-in and day-out at a computer remanufacturing centre. So, without further ado:
Chapter One: Enter the Newlings
As the weekend draws to a close, I can't help but wonder what tomorrow will bring... The Powers That Be have finally decided that the manpower shortage in Mass Storage Area One has gone on long enough, what with one man (yours truly) handling Incoming, another tending to Outgoing, and 2 incapacitated Labourers (there's another story there, I assure you).
So, for the first time in many months, the company coffers are being pried open and we're going to be seeing fresh blood in the ranks. Yes sir, they've gone over the resumes, held the interviews, and made the callbacks. What we have now are qualified individuals, highly experienced in their fields, and ready to help the team. All that remains is to make them forget everything they know and show them how to do it all our way...
Tomorrow will be interesting, indeed.
Disappointment... For now.
Well, it certainly was a nail-biter... Vancouver came on so strong that I thought maybe the Flames forgot to show up for the game. By the middle of the second period, the Canucks had Calgary on the ropes with a 4-0 lead. I couldn't believe it. All the old feelings of frustration watching the Flames miss the playoffs came back like evil deja vu. During a commercial, I went to tell my girlfriend that the Flames of old had returned. I was sure there was no way for Calgary to come back.
Yet, comeback they did... with a vengeance. Coach Darryl Sutter called a timeout after the fourth unanswered goal to get his guys settled down. After that, Calgary went on a tear. Four unanswered goals of their own later, we went into overtime. And, at long last, the refs decided to put away their whistles and really let them grind it out. Back and forth, chance after chance, one a amazing stop after another. I was literally vibrating from the stress!
Then, the other shoe fell... It took a little over 2 overtime periods for it to happen, but Vancouver scored. Calgary lost a battle for the puck down low that let Canuck Brendan Morrison walk out in front and slide the puck past Flame goalie Miika Kiprusoff. A game that started at 8:00pm with the Flames looking to eliminate the Canucks finally ended at 12:35am with Calgary and Vancouver looking forward to Game 7 on Monday night.
I'm exhausted... That game really took a round out of me. I'm off to bed now, but you can be sure there will be more overtime periods in Dreamland.
Well, it certainly was a nail-biter... Vancouver came on so strong that I thought maybe the Flames forgot to show up for the game. By the middle of the second period, the Canucks had Calgary on the ropes with a 4-0 lead. I couldn't believe it. All the old feelings of frustration watching the Flames miss the playoffs came back like evil deja vu. During a commercial, I went to tell my girlfriend that the Flames of old had returned. I was sure there was no way for Calgary to come back.
Yet, comeback they did... with a vengeance. Coach Darryl Sutter called a timeout after the fourth unanswered goal to get his guys settled down. After that, Calgary went on a tear. Four unanswered goals of their own later, we went into overtime. And, at long last, the refs decided to put away their whistles and really let them grind it out. Back and forth, chance after chance, one a amazing stop after another. I was literally vibrating from the stress!
Then, the other shoe fell... It took a little over 2 overtime periods for it to happen, but Vancouver scored. Calgary lost a battle for the puck down low that let Canuck Brendan Morrison walk out in front and slide the puck past Flame goalie Miika Kiprusoff. A game that started at 8:00pm with the Flames looking to eliminate the Canucks finally ended at 12:35am with Calgary and Vancouver looking forward to Game 7 on Monday night.
I'm exhausted... That game really took a round out of me. I'm off to bed now, but you can be sure there will be more overtime periods in Dreamland.
Saturday, April 17, 2004
Holding my breath...
There is only an hour left until Game Time, and this whole city is on edge... The Calgary Flames are heading into Game 6 with a 3-2 lead over Vancouver and could very well win their first playoff series since they won the Stanley Cup 15 years ago. Get ready for a night filled with face-paced, hard-checking hockey, and all the beer and herbicide commercials that go along with it.
I can already feel the adrenaline starting to surge through my veins. Who needs coffee at a time like this?
I apologize to those of you out there who don't follow hockey... As long as the Flames run for the Cup stays alive, I'm going to be spending my nights watching the games and my days talking about them. Like I've said before, I love this sport... I can watch any two teams go at it, just for the sake of seeing the game played. But now, with the added excitement of having my hometown team in the thick of it, well... I'm practically a man obsessed. So, forgive me if this blog becomes nothing more than a wordy "Go Flames Go!" from time to time... But it's been such a long time and I don't know when we'll see it again!
That's it for now, folks... I have to track down some beers, maybe a bowl of chips and get ready for what I hope will be the noisiest night Calgary has seen since 1989.
There is only an hour left until Game Time, and this whole city is on edge... The Calgary Flames are heading into Game 6 with a 3-2 lead over Vancouver and could very well win their first playoff series since they won the Stanley Cup 15 years ago. Get ready for a night filled with face-paced, hard-checking hockey, and all the beer and herbicide commercials that go along with it.
I can already feel the adrenaline starting to surge through my veins. Who needs coffee at a time like this?
I apologize to those of you out there who don't follow hockey... As long as the Flames run for the Cup stays alive, I'm going to be spending my nights watching the games and my days talking about them. Like I've said before, I love this sport... I can watch any two teams go at it, just for the sake of seeing the game played. But now, with the added excitement of having my hometown team in the thick of it, well... I'm practically a man obsessed. So, forgive me if this blog becomes nothing more than a wordy "Go Flames Go!" from time to time... But it's been such a long time and I don't know when we'll see it again!
That's it for now, folks... I have to track down some beers, maybe a bowl of chips and get ready for what I hope will be the noisiest night Calgary has seen since 1989.
Thursday, April 15, 2004
Way Back When...
I caught myself doing it again... Here I am, listening to music at work (ah, the luxuries, eh?) and suddenly "Rock This Town" by the Stray Cats comes on. Instantly, I'm catapulted back 21 years into the past...
It was a time of Rugby Pants and T-Shirts with glittery iron-on decals. A time when I could get out of bed, smooth down the parts of my hair that were standing at attention, and go off to school. A time when said school was still in the same neighborhood as my house, so Mom could force me to walk there, regardless of the blizzard raging outside.
And, it was Grade 6... That final year of Elementary when you are the kings and queens of the school, the fear of going to Junior High and being nothing but a peon again still distant enough to ignore. The Commodore VIC 20 was enjoying the distinction of being one of the most popular Home Computers (with color! Eat your heart out Apple...) and we never missed an episode of The Dukes of Hazzard.
I can still picture the inside of the library at Terrace Road Elementary the day of my Grade 6 "graduation"... 20 boys and girls bragging about where they would be going for summer vacation and showing off their photocopied certificates of achievement... Big Tupperware bowls filled with chips and cheezies... Styrofoam cups and 1 litre glass bottles of Coke and 7-Up... A stack of LP's (that's right, good old vinyl records) to dance to... Where was I going with this? Oh yeah! Stray Cats...
So, it turned out that "Rock This Town" was one of the most popular songs played that day, along with "Thriller" by Michael Jackson (who wasn't nearly so white back then). And who was the cool kid who brought the Stray Cats to the dance? Well, that would be yours truly. Unfortunately, that's all there is to this little trip down memory lane. Nothing really exciting happened... It wasn't a defining moment in my social development... No, it's just the image that pops into my head when I hear those rock-a-billy sounds.
I tried to share this experience with my co-worker, the guy I share an office with. He just turned around in his chair and said, "Yeah, I think I was born then..." Well, now that I know he thinks I'm old, I guess I won't bother telling him that today is my birthday... Nah, I'll just smile and go back to listening to my tunes. Hey! "She Blinded Me With Science"! Cool!
P.S. My humblest apologies for the shameless way I slipped my birthday into the blog. I promise not to let it happen again for at least a year...
I caught myself doing it again... Here I am, listening to music at work (ah, the luxuries, eh?) and suddenly "Rock This Town" by the Stray Cats comes on. Instantly, I'm catapulted back 21 years into the past...
It was a time of Rugby Pants and T-Shirts with glittery iron-on decals. A time when I could get out of bed, smooth down the parts of my hair that were standing at attention, and go off to school. A time when said school was still in the same neighborhood as my house, so Mom could force me to walk there, regardless of the blizzard raging outside.
And, it was Grade 6... That final year of Elementary when you are the kings and queens of the school, the fear of going to Junior High and being nothing but a peon again still distant enough to ignore. The Commodore VIC 20 was enjoying the distinction of being one of the most popular Home Computers (with color! Eat your heart out Apple...) and we never missed an episode of The Dukes of Hazzard.
I can still picture the inside of the library at Terrace Road Elementary the day of my Grade 6 "graduation"... 20 boys and girls bragging about where they would be going for summer vacation and showing off their photocopied certificates of achievement... Big Tupperware bowls filled with chips and cheezies... Styrofoam cups and 1 litre glass bottles of Coke and 7-Up... A stack of LP's (that's right, good old vinyl records) to dance to... Where was I going with this? Oh yeah! Stray Cats...
So, it turned out that "Rock This Town" was one of the most popular songs played that day, along with "Thriller" by Michael Jackson (who wasn't nearly so white back then). And who was the cool kid who brought the Stray Cats to the dance? Well, that would be yours truly. Unfortunately, that's all there is to this little trip down memory lane. Nothing really exciting happened... It wasn't a defining moment in my social development... No, it's just the image that pops into my head when I hear those rock-a-billy sounds.
I tried to share this experience with my co-worker, the guy I share an office with. He just turned around in his chair and said, "Yeah, I think I was born then..." Well, now that I know he thinks I'm old, I guess I won't bother telling him that today is my birthday... Nah, I'll just smile and go back to listening to my tunes. Hey! "She Blinded Me With Science"! Cool!
P.S. My humblest apologies for the shameless way I slipped my birthday into the blog. I promise not to let it happen again for at least a year...
Tuesday, April 13, 2004
Two Minute Penalty for Boring the Fans
Today's blog will have to be a rant, but I promise to keep it short for you...
At this very moment, the Flames and Canucks have just retired to their dressing rooms for the first intermission of Game 4. The Canucks (as I pointed out yesterday) are leading the series 2 games to 1, but the score for this game is still tied at zero. Lots of great skating, awesome passes, and amazing goaltending... But here's the problem: The NHL Officials.
Ever since the playoffs began, all we've heard from the color commentators is how the referees have been instructed by their organization to crack down on "obstructions" in the game. These are instances where a player does something (tripping, hooking, interference) to illegally interfere with an opposing player's progress. So, what we have now are a bunch of guys in striped shirts who are too paranoid to miss a call (one can only imagine what punishment they've been threatened with) so they call anything that even resembles an obstruction. It's getting right out of hand! I'm not sure about the rest of the fans out there, but I know that I tuned into watch the finest that the NHL has to offer, not the Best and the Brightest of the Whistle Blowers. You wanna talk about obstructions? How about stopping the game every 2 minutes for pointless penalties?
In my opinon, these playoffs would be a lot more entertaining if we could just get back to some good old 5-on-5...
Today's blog will have to be a rant, but I promise to keep it short for you...
At this very moment, the Flames and Canucks have just retired to their dressing rooms for the first intermission of Game 4. The Canucks (as I pointed out yesterday) are leading the series 2 games to 1, but the score for this game is still tied at zero. Lots of great skating, awesome passes, and amazing goaltending... But here's the problem: The NHL Officials.
Ever since the playoffs began, all we've heard from the color commentators is how the referees have been instructed by their organization to crack down on "obstructions" in the game. These are instances where a player does something (tripping, hooking, interference) to illegally interfere with an opposing player's progress. So, what we have now are a bunch of guys in striped shirts who are too paranoid to miss a call (one can only imagine what punishment they've been threatened with) so they call anything that even resembles an obstruction. It's getting right out of hand! I'm not sure about the rest of the fans out there, but I know that I tuned into watch the finest that the NHL has to offer, not the Best and the Brightest of the Whistle Blowers. You wanna talk about obstructions? How about stopping the game every 2 minutes for pointless penalties?
In my opinon, these playoffs would be a lot more entertaining if we could just get back to some good old 5-on-5...
Monday, April 12, 2004
This Just In...
Okay, just a quick update today... I've got a million things on my mind, but not an ounce of desire to put them into fancy prose. So, hold onto your hats because here we go!
First of all, for those of you wondering how my Great Decaffeination went, I am happy to report that I not only made it through the seven days, but today marks my 11th day without coffee. Actually, I haven't had tea or cola either... I thought those might be considered cheating. Anyway, it looks as if I'm going to try for a full two-weeks with this little java-free gig. Kinda makes the name of this blog a little inappropriate...
And there is great rejoicing in the land! The NHL's Stanley Cup Playoffs are in full swing! The hiss of sharpened blades on white ice... The crack of wood meeting frozen rubber... The lights... The horns... This is the time of year that every Canadian lives for! I'm once again glued to the TV every night as teams battle for hockey's ultimate prize. And this year is a little sweeter still... For the first time in 8 years, the Calgary Flames (my home team) have made it to the post-season! Now, all of us fair-weather fans who have been avoiding them for the better part of a disappointing decade are back on the band wagon, baby! Windows are filled with "Go Flames Go!" signs, Flaming C flags are flying from the tops of cars, and the Saddledome (our appropriately named arena) is packed to the rafters.
However, I am a little worried... The Flames are trailing the Vancouver Canucks 2 games to 1 in this opening 7 game series so far. Usually not much to worry about with a team as hot as the Flames have been of late, but a couple strange things happened on the weekend that have me doubting... First, I was watching the sports highlights and they were talking about the Flames. All of a sudden, the picture changed to a shot of a couple guys competing in the Master's at Augusta (golf). It lasted all of a second, most likely someone setting up the tape for the next story, but I saw it. Now, for those of you who don't know, it is often said when a hockey team is eliminated from the playoffs that they are "gone golfing". Eerie... Later, I was watching a documentary about the explosion of the Mont Blanc in Halifax Harbour in 1917. The narrator was telling about the families out for a stroll that day that never knew what hit them, and they showed a stock-clip of some families out for a walk. Now, for some reason, this particular clip was modern, not set in the period as every other one was. Again, it was only on the screen briefly, but a little boy walking at the front of the soon-to-be-dead oblivious people was wearing a Calgary Flames sweatshirt! Spooky... You know what they say: If it sounds like an omen and feels like an omen...
In other news... I have been checking out my regularly read blogs, well, regularly, and I've noticed a drop in the frequency of posts on most of them (though there are a few exceptions). It got me to thinking that I don't sit down at the old Blogger nearly often enough, so... Even though I am a firm believer that one should stay silent when one has nothing good to say, I'm going to make an attempt to get on here once a day for the next little while. I may not have anything of great entertainment to share, but I figure I can at least come up with a two- or three-sentence thought for the day, right? Well, we'll see how it goes.
Well, I'm off for now... Gonna go grab a beer and settle in for some hockey.
Okay, just a quick update today... I've got a million things on my mind, but not an ounce of desire to put them into fancy prose. So, hold onto your hats because here we go!
First of all, for those of you wondering how my Great Decaffeination went, I am happy to report that I not only made it through the seven days, but today marks my 11th day without coffee. Actually, I haven't had tea or cola either... I thought those might be considered cheating. Anyway, it looks as if I'm going to try for a full two-weeks with this little java-free gig. Kinda makes the name of this blog a little inappropriate...
And there is great rejoicing in the land! The NHL's Stanley Cup Playoffs are in full swing! The hiss of sharpened blades on white ice... The crack of wood meeting frozen rubber... The lights... The horns... This is the time of year that every Canadian lives for! I'm once again glued to the TV every night as teams battle for hockey's ultimate prize. And this year is a little sweeter still... For the first time in 8 years, the Calgary Flames (my home team) have made it to the post-season! Now, all of us fair-weather fans who have been avoiding them for the better part of a disappointing decade are back on the band wagon, baby! Windows are filled with "Go Flames Go!" signs, Flaming C flags are flying from the tops of cars, and the Saddledome (our appropriately named arena) is packed to the rafters.
However, I am a little worried... The Flames are trailing the Vancouver Canucks 2 games to 1 in this opening 7 game series so far. Usually not much to worry about with a team as hot as the Flames have been of late, but a couple strange things happened on the weekend that have me doubting... First, I was watching the sports highlights and they were talking about the Flames. All of a sudden, the picture changed to a shot of a couple guys competing in the Master's at Augusta (golf). It lasted all of a second, most likely someone setting up the tape for the next story, but I saw it. Now, for those of you who don't know, it is often said when a hockey team is eliminated from the playoffs that they are "gone golfing". Eerie... Later, I was watching a documentary about the explosion of the Mont Blanc in Halifax Harbour in 1917. The narrator was telling about the families out for a stroll that day that never knew what hit them, and they showed a stock-clip of some families out for a walk. Now, for some reason, this particular clip was modern, not set in the period as every other one was. Again, it was only on the screen briefly, but a little boy walking at the front of the soon-to-be-dead oblivious people was wearing a Calgary Flames sweatshirt! Spooky... You know what they say: If it sounds like an omen and feels like an omen...
In other news... I have been checking out my regularly read blogs, well, regularly, and I've noticed a drop in the frequency of posts on most of them (though there are a few exceptions). It got me to thinking that I don't sit down at the old Blogger nearly often enough, so... Even though I am a firm believer that one should stay silent when one has nothing good to say, I'm going to make an attempt to get on here once a day for the next little while. I may not have anything of great entertainment to share, but I figure I can at least come up with a two- or three-sentence thought for the day, right? Well, we'll see how it goes.
Well, I'm off for now... Gonna go grab a beer and settle in for some hockey.
Monday, April 05, 2004
Day Four
Today is Day Four. It has been four days since I made a life-altering decision. This is the fourth day that I have gone without coffee. This is the first day that I've been able to talk about it...
It began last Thursday.
My girlfriend came by to pick me up from work, as usual. I was exhausted from a long day of trying to look busy, as usual. Untold milligrams of caffeine from uncounted cups of coffee were coursing through my veins, as usual. We kissed and then proceeded on our way, my knee bouncing triple-time to whatever song was on the radio, as usual.
After the typical, "How was your day?", "Good. And yours?", "Fine.", she got to telling me that she had been talking to her Mom. Now, that conversation opener never ceases to send a shiver down my spine. As a man, you have to perk up, pay attention, and be ready to defend yourself, or defend your mate, depending where the damage has been inflicted. So, steeling myself for the worst, I put on my most casual smile (knee now bouncing wildly out of control) and said, "Really? What's up?" She took my hand the way you would if you had to tell someone that their dog has died and said, "She thinks you're addicted to coffee."
Well blow me down! What a revelation! I almost burst out laughing... What was the first clue? The 7 or 8 trips to the coffee maker a day? The pile of empty Tim Horton's cups on my desk? My constant state of vibration? Or maybe that "I haven't slept in 3 days" look in my eyes? Of course I'm addicted to coffee! Everybody knows that! I've been going hardcore with the ol' java juice since I was 16... Drinking it black since I was 21... That's 17 years of serious Joe Time!
Okay, in all fairness, she's a sweet lady and she's only just gotten to know me in the last few months, so I shouldn't be too sarcastic. In fact, it turns out that it was the "I haven't slept in 3 days" look in my eyes that tipped her off. Apparently, she was a big coffee-addict in her day, so she knows the signs, and she had to give it up under doctor's orders. I knew there was a reason I don't like doctors...
Well, I've been told many a time before that I should drink less coffee, but I never listened. Why should I? It wakes me up in the morning, it gets me through my tedious workday, it's the perfect social drink, and it keeps my point of view just enough off-center to keep me amused. It's a vice, but one I've accepted with open arms. Still, I got to thinking... If someone who doesn't really know me can tell by looking at me that I'm a coffee junkie, maybe it's time to cut back a little... or a lot.
So, I've decided to do a little de-tox routine. I decided to give coffee up completely for one week. Seven days without my crutch. Drink lots of water, flush out the system, and start fresh. This is Day Four... Here's what you've missed:
Day One: Woke up fine, as usual, and went to work where I promptly began falling asleep. I yawned more times that day than I think I ever have in an 8 hour period. My brain felt foggy, the day seemed to last an eternity, and the headaches began. My favorite part? That would have to be my encouraging co-workers. The ones who laughed and kept offering to get me a coffee. Ah, my support group.
Day Two: If you've been keeping track, you'll know this was Saturday. The headaches came on with a vengeance, as did my bitchiness. I think I have been given a glimpse into the world of PMS and Nic Fits (my apologies to all my smoker friends who I've teased over the years as they've tried to quit). Everything annoyed me. Sound annoyed me. Silence annoyed me. Newton's Third Law of Physics pissed me off (and I've always been rather fond of that one). Even being annoyed at everything was getting on my nerves. My family began referring to me as He Who Should Be Avoided.
Day Three: Awoke after a restless night of back aches and leg cramps. It was a day spent alternating between vegging out to movies, arguing with my girlfriend over nothing, and soaking in hot baths. The pain settled somewhere in my hips (man, I sound like a woman) and didn't go away until I took a heavy dose of Motrin and Tylenol. By this point, even my loving girlfriend was urging me to have a cup...
And today is Day Four. Surprisingly, the headaches have become little more than mild sinus pressure (child's play), and my mood is greatly improved. Of course, being a Monday, I was back at work and surrounded by people carrying all forms of take-out cups, travel mugs, and coffee cups. Each time I was forced to walk past the coffee maker was a true test of my will. But, with many trips to the water fountain and keeping myself occupied with work (it's amazing how fast the day passes when you actually do something...), I was able to stick to my resolve.
I'll try to keep you updated on my progress. Of course, if I never write another word on this topic again, I think you'll all understand and never mention it, right?
Today is Day Four. It has been four days since I made a life-altering decision. This is the fourth day that I have gone without coffee. This is the first day that I've been able to talk about it...
It began last Thursday.
My girlfriend came by to pick me up from work, as usual. I was exhausted from a long day of trying to look busy, as usual. Untold milligrams of caffeine from uncounted cups of coffee were coursing through my veins, as usual. We kissed and then proceeded on our way, my knee bouncing triple-time to whatever song was on the radio, as usual.
After the typical, "How was your day?", "Good. And yours?", "Fine.", she got to telling me that she had been talking to her Mom. Now, that conversation opener never ceases to send a shiver down my spine. As a man, you have to perk up, pay attention, and be ready to defend yourself, or defend your mate, depending where the damage has been inflicted. So, steeling myself for the worst, I put on my most casual smile (knee now bouncing wildly out of control) and said, "Really? What's up?" She took my hand the way you would if you had to tell someone that their dog has died and said, "She thinks you're addicted to coffee."
Well blow me down! What a revelation! I almost burst out laughing... What was the first clue? The 7 or 8 trips to the coffee maker a day? The pile of empty Tim Horton's cups on my desk? My constant state of vibration? Or maybe that "I haven't slept in 3 days" look in my eyes? Of course I'm addicted to coffee! Everybody knows that! I've been going hardcore with the ol' java juice since I was 16... Drinking it black since I was 21... That's 17 years of serious Joe Time!
Okay, in all fairness, she's a sweet lady and she's only just gotten to know me in the last few months, so I shouldn't be too sarcastic. In fact, it turns out that it was the "I haven't slept in 3 days" look in my eyes that tipped her off. Apparently, she was a big coffee-addict in her day, so she knows the signs, and she had to give it up under doctor's orders. I knew there was a reason I don't like doctors...
Well, I've been told many a time before that I should drink less coffee, but I never listened. Why should I? It wakes me up in the morning, it gets me through my tedious workday, it's the perfect social drink, and it keeps my point of view just enough off-center to keep me amused. It's a vice, but one I've accepted with open arms. Still, I got to thinking... If someone who doesn't really know me can tell by looking at me that I'm a coffee junkie, maybe it's time to cut back a little... or a lot.
So, I've decided to do a little de-tox routine. I decided to give coffee up completely for one week. Seven days without my crutch. Drink lots of water, flush out the system, and start fresh. This is Day Four... Here's what you've missed:
Day One: Woke up fine, as usual, and went to work where I promptly began falling asleep. I yawned more times that day than I think I ever have in an 8 hour period. My brain felt foggy, the day seemed to last an eternity, and the headaches began. My favorite part? That would have to be my encouraging co-workers. The ones who laughed and kept offering to get me a coffee. Ah, my support group.
Day Two: If you've been keeping track, you'll know this was Saturday. The headaches came on with a vengeance, as did my bitchiness. I think I have been given a glimpse into the world of PMS and Nic Fits (my apologies to all my smoker friends who I've teased over the years as they've tried to quit). Everything annoyed me. Sound annoyed me. Silence annoyed me. Newton's Third Law of Physics pissed me off (and I've always been rather fond of that one). Even being annoyed at everything was getting on my nerves. My family began referring to me as He Who Should Be Avoided.
Day Three: Awoke after a restless night of back aches and leg cramps. It was a day spent alternating between vegging out to movies, arguing with my girlfriend over nothing, and soaking in hot baths. The pain settled somewhere in my hips (man, I sound like a woman) and didn't go away until I took a heavy dose of Motrin and Tylenol. By this point, even my loving girlfriend was urging me to have a cup...
And today is Day Four. Surprisingly, the headaches have become little more than mild sinus pressure (child's play), and my mood is greatly improved. Of course, being a Monday, I was back at work and surrounded by people carrying all forms of take-out cups, travel mugs, and coffee cups. Each time I was forced to walk past the coffee maker was a true test of my will. But, with many trips to the water fountain and keeping myself occupied with work (it's amazing how fast the day passes when you actually do something...), I was able to stick to my resolve.
I'll try to keep you updated on my progress. Of course, if I never write another word on this topic again, I think you'll all understand and never mention it, right?
Monday, March 29, 2004
Shameless Self-Promotion
You see that little grey box just to the right? There, just below the links to my email... Yeah, that's the one! Well, for those of you who have been wondering what that is, let me tell you...
That is a genuine blog belonging to someone that I have never met, nor am I ever likely to meet. In fact, odds are, I've never even heard of that particular blog before, let alone read it. Never the less, there it sits, proudly displayed for all my loyal reader (note the humorous use of the singular "reader") to see. Why, you might ask, would a seemingly random blog (for that is what I've labeled it) be displayed, nay, touted as noteworthy in the sidebar of "Musings"? Well, it's quite simple, really... I'm a BlogSnob.
Easy now... It's not as bad as it sounds. Although I would probably have come up with a better name for the idea, it is a great idea, regardless. And here's how it works...
Now that I have joined the ranks of BlogSnobs (BlogSnobbers?) world-wide, each time my blog is viewed, two things happen. First, the blog of another BlogSnob member is advertised on my page (Remember that little grey box I was talking about? Good. Just making sure I hadn't lost you). And second, my blog is advertised on the page of another member. Simple, no? In this way, people such as yourself are presented with the chance to expand your Blog horizons while tireless Bloggers such as myself get the chance to attract new readers.
So, now that you're done reading this boring Blog (there's better stuff to come, I promise), why not click on that one to your right and see what it's all about? What's that? It doesn't look interesting to you? Well, just keep refreshing this page until you see one that does! Meanwhile, I'll be here trying to think of something clever for next time... Wish me luck!
You see that little grey box just to the right? There, just below the links to my email... Yeah, that's the one! Well, for those of you who have been wondering what that is, let me tell you...
That is a genuine blog belonging to someone that I have never met, nor am I ever likely to meet. In fact, odds are, I've never even heard of that particular blog before, let alone read it. Never the less, there it sits, proudly displayed for all my loyal reader (note the humorous use of the singular "reader") to see. Why, you might ask, would a seemingly random blog (for that is what I've labeled it) be displayed, nay, touted as noteworthy in the sidebar of "Musings"? Well, it's quite simple, really... I'm a BlogSnob.
Easy now... It's not as bad as it sounds. Although I would probably have come up with a better name for the idea, it is a great idea, regardless. And here's how it works...
Now that I have joined the ranks of BlogSnobs (BlogSnobbers?) world-wide, each time my blog is viewed, two things happen. First, the blog of another BlogSnob member is advertised on my page (Remember that little grey box I was talking about? Good. Just making sure I hadn't lost you). And second, my blog is advertised on the page of another member. Simple, no? In this way, people such as yourself are presented with the chance to expand your Blog horizons while tireless Bloggers such as myself get the chance to attract new readers.
So, now that you're done reading this boring Blog (there's better stuff to come, I promise), why not click on that one to your right and see what it's all about? What's that? It doesn't look interesting to you? Well, just keep refreshing this page until you see one that does! Meanwhile, I'll be here trying to think of something clever for next time... Wish me luck!
Thursday, March 25, 2004
%@&#$!
I'm in a bad mood. In fact, I'd have to describe my current attitude as foul. At this very moment, my keyboard is taking quite a beating, I can assure you. I can feel the pulsing in my neck, my brow is furrowed, and my teeth are clenched. My brain is scrambling around in tight little frustrated circles...
This is me when I'm pissed off.
The worst thing about feeling this way has to be the underlying helplessness of the moment. I can analyze how I'm feeling, I can understand how I'm feeling, I can even paint a vivid little picture of how I'm feeling... But I can't stop it. I can't break out of this funk, no matter how hard I try. What's up with that, anyway?!? Am I not master of my own mind? Should I not be able to flip my mental middle finger at that which annoys me and be done with it?
Apparently not.
So, I play a little Unreal Tournament to ease the tension and take my mind off things... You'd think that spraying rocket fire around like Silly String to the chants of "Double Kill!" and "Multi Kill!" would take the edge off. But, it turns out that virtual violent bloodshed in outer space isn't an effective method of anger management. All I've done is add a less-than-healthy dose of adrenaline to the mix. Looks like my imaginary shrink was right again...
Then I try to write a blog, but everything comes out sounding bitchy (What's that? You hadn't noticed?). Four times I log into Blogger, get two sentences in, and close the window. Four more times I relaunch Explorer, only to glare at Google, becoming more and more irked by that stupid "I'm Feeling Lucky" button... Twice I get up from my computer, then sit right back down again. More teeth clenching, more brow furrowing... I'm a prisoner and my anger is my prison cell.
It's 11 o'clock at night and I should go to bed. Of course, if I do, I'll just lay there staring at the ceiling until the streetlights make taunting little faces out of the stipple. Then I'll grab a book, read three pages, realize I can't remember a single thing from the last three pages, and put it down again.
Toss, turn, re-adjust pillow...
Before long I'd be right back here at the computer, suffering my tension by its eerie glow. So, I might as well skip a few steps and just stay here until this passes, right? I better go put on some coffee... But before I do, I guess I should end the suspense. You want to know what's got me so riled up? Would you like me to tell you what's got my knickers in a knot? My computer... of course.
AAARRRGGGHHHH!!!
I'm in a bad mood. In fact, I'd have to describe my current attitude as foul. At this very moment, my keyboard is taking quite a beating, I can assure you. I can feel the pulsing in my neck, my brow is furrowed, and my teeth are clenched. My brain is scrambling around in tight little frustrated circles...
This is me when I'm pissed off.
The worst thing about feeling this way has to be the underlying helplessness of the moment. I can analyze how I'm feeling, I can understand how I'm feeling, I can even paint a vivid little picture of how I'm feeling... But I can't stop it. I can't break out of this funk, no matter how hard I try. What's up with that, anyway?!? Am I not master of my own mind? Should I not be able to flip my mental middle finger at that which annoys me and be done with it?
Apparently not.
So, I play a little Unreal Tournament to ease the tension and take my mind off things... You'd think that spraying rocket fire around like Silly String to the chants of "Double Kill!" and "Multi Kill!" would take the edge off. But, it turns out that virtual violent bloodshed in outer space isn't an effective method of anger management. All I've done is add a less-than-healthy dose of adrenaline to the mix. Looks like my imaginary shrink was right again...
Then I try to write a blog, but everything comes out sounding bitchy (What's that? You hadn't noticed?). Four times I log into Blogger, get two sentences in, and close the window. Four more times I relaunch Explorer, only to glare at Google, becoming more and more irked by that stupid "I'm Feeling Lucky" button... Twice I get up from my computer, then sit right back down again. More teeth clenching, more brow furrowing... I'm a prisoner and my anger is my prison cell.
It's 11 o'clock at night and I should go to bed. Of course, if I do, I'll just lay there staring at the ceiling until the streetlights make taunting little faces out of the stipple. Then I'll grab a book, read three pages, realize I can't remember a single thing from the last three pages, and put it down again.
Toss, turn, re-adjust pillow...
Before long I'd be right back here at the computer, suffering my tension by its eerie glow. So, I might as well skip a few steps and just stay here until this passes, right? I better go put on some coffee... But before I do, I guess I should end the suspense. You want to know what's got me so riled up? Would you like me to tell you what's got my knickers in a knot? My computer... of course.
AAARRRGGGHHHH!!!
Saturday, March 20, 2004
Oh, the agony...
I once read somewhere that women don't remember the pain of childbirth. Supposedly, this is nature's way of ensuring that they will go through the whole process again and our dominant species will continue to pillage and plunder its way across the face of this great blue marble. Nifty little trick, don't you think?
Well, just the other day, as I sat at my tiny little desk in my tiny little office, suffering the effects of the previous night's alcohol-induced escapades and wondering why I put myself through this torture, it hit me. Maybe Mother Nature doesn't reserve this "Now you remember it, now you don't" routine for our life-givers, our childbearers... Perhaps she also smiles upon this hapless imbiber of spirits, allowing me to revel in my stupidity, free of the fear of what the morning will bring. Blocked from my mind are the hours spent in head-pounding agony as my body shivers uncontrollably from what must be my insides attempting to become my outsides... Gone, too, are the memories of the waves of nausea that banish all thoughts of food, bring me to my knees, and leave me as weak as a kitten. Most of all, completely forgotten are my countless past pledges to "never drink again".
Not that I don't remember ever having a hangover, mind you. But even as I write about the terrible trials and tribulations brought on by a night of excess, I feel a certain detachment. I know I suffered these things, but I don't remember the actual suffering to be all that bad. Interesting... Perhaps there is more to this connection with bringing a child into the world...
Most certainly, hangovers and childbirth share similar origins as both begin with very pleasurable and exciting events. These events tend to make the participants lose themselves in the moment with much giggling, funny faces, and proclamations of, "I love you". Quite often, people will even achieve new levels of boldness, saying or doing things they would normally be too embarrassed to consider. And, ultimately, the end arrives with an uncontrollable and undeniable urge to sleep. It should be noted, however, that one of these events is traditionally shared between two people, while the other can involve as many people as the venue will support. Which is which would depend upon your lifestyle, I suppose...
Now, here is where the differences begin to surface. Although both will spend some time huddled over a toilet bowl, an expecting mother has the better part of nine months to prepare for her big day, while the drunk has mere hours... hours which are typically spent sleeping instead of preparing. The mom-to-be is out taking Lamaze classes, eating healthy, and arranging which hospital to use. The drunk, on the other hand, is drooling away his last few ounces of moisture in a bed that tips and spins like some evil carnival ride, without a single thought for how to deal with what awaits him. She enters childbirth with excitement and anticipation, surrounded by loved ones. He awakens to find himself already in the midst of his personal hell, with no one there to make it better.
And, when all is said and done, Mom will be pampered and loved. She will be told to rest. Gifts and flowers will be lavished upon her, as will words of congratulations. As for our other guy, well... He'll have to drag his dying body out of bed and off to work. There, he'll not only have to endure the longest hours of his life, but also all the ridicule and mocking his co-workers can throw at him. Still, just as the memory of childbirth will fade, so will the memory of his pain. And they are both likely to go through the whole thing again...
So, in the end, is there a "bigger connection" between childbirth and hangovers as this blog would seem to suggest? Have I stumbled across some greater truth that will bridge the gap between the sexes? I don't think so. As a matter of fact, if this blog proves anything, it's this: Drinking kills brain cells.
I once read somewhere that women don't remember the pain of childbirth. Supposedly, this is nature's way of ensuring that they will go through the whole process again and our dominant species will continue to pillage and plunder its way across the face of this great blue marble. Nifty little trick, don't you think?
Well, just the other day, as I sat at my tiny little desk in my tiny little office, suffering the effects of the previous night's alcohol-induced escapades and wondering why I put myself through this torture, it hit me. Maybe Mother Nature doesn't reserve this "Now you remember it, now you don't" routine for our life-givers, our childbearers... Perhaps she also smiles upon this hapless imbiber of spirits, allowing me to revel in my stupidity, free of the fear of what the morning will bring. Blocked from my mind are the hours spent in head-pounding agony as my body shivers uncontrollably from what must be my insides attempting to become my outsides... Gone, too, are the memories of the waves of nausea that banish all thoughts of food, bring me to my knees, and leave me as weak as a kitten. Most of all, completely forgotten are my countless past pledges to "never drink again".
Not that I don't remember ever having a hangover, mind you. But even as I write about the terrible trials and tribulations brought on by a night of excess, I feel a certain detachment. I know I suffered these things, but I don't remember the actual suffering to be all that bad. Interesting... Perhaps there is more to this connection with bringing a child into the world...
Most certainly, hangovers and childbirth share similar origins as both begin with very pleasurable and exciting events. These events tend to make the participants lose themselves in the moment with much giggling, funny faces, and proclamations of, "I love you". Quite often, people will even achieve new levels of boldness, saying or doing things they would normally be too embarrassed to consider. And, ultimately, the end arrives with an uncontrollable and undeniable urge to sleep. It should be noted, however, that one of these events is traditionally shared between two people, while the other can involve as many people as the venue will support. Which is which would depend upon your lifestyle, I suppose...
Now, here is where the differences begin to surface. Although both will spend some time huddled over a toilet bowl, an expecting mother has the better part of nine months to prepare for her big day, while the drunk has mere hours... hours which are typically spent sleeping instead of preparing. The mom-to-be is out taking Lamaze classes, eating healthy, and arranging which hospital to use. The drunk, on the other hand, is drooling away his last few ounces of moisture in a bed that tips and spins like some evil carnival ride, without a single thought for how to deal with what awaits him. She enters childbirth with excitement and anticipation, surrounded by loved ones. He awakens to find himself already in the midst of his personal hell, with no one there to make it better.
And, when all is said and done, Mom will be pampered and loved. She will be told to rest. Gifts and flowers will be lavished upon her, as will words of congratulations. As for our other guy, well... He'll have to drag his dying body out of bed and off to work. There, he'll not only have to endure the longest hours of his life, but also all the ridicule and mocking his co-workers can throw at him. Still, just as the memory of childbirth will fade, so will the memory of his pain. And they are both likely to go through the whole thing again...
So, in the end, is there a "bigger connection" between childbirth and hangovers as this blog would seem to suggest? Have I stumbled across some greater truth that will bridge the gap between the sexes? I don't think so. As a matter of fact, if this blog proves anything, it's this: Drinking kills brain cells.
Monday, March 15, 2004
The Price of a Freebie
My thumbs are sore. Now, that wouldn't be too shocking if I was some cross-eyed, ambidextrous carpenter with masochistic tendencies (don't laugh, I'm pretty sure I saw it on Jerry Springer), but I'm not. Nor am I one of the millions of PlayStation, Nintendo, and XBox junkies who feverishly rub, slide, and grind their opposable digits across ergonomic but unforgiving gamepads day and night. No, I'm just a simple Canadian boy who, if you haven't heard by now, has a thing for coffee. And, thanks to that, my thumbs are sore.
For those of you who are Canadian, you may already see where I am going with this. You may even share my pain... For those of you who aren't from The Great White North, or those of you who, in an attempt to keep those old stereotypes alive, have been living in an igloo, let me start at the beginning and introduce you to a little place called Tim Horton's.
Just as our friends to the south in the good ol' US of A have Starbuck's (you know, that little coffee shop that you can find on every corner in every town?), we have Tim Horton's. Of course, you won't find "tall", "grande", or "venti" on the menu... I'm afraid you'll have to settled for small, medium, large, or (my favorite) extra large. Oh, and we're talking about coffee here, not espresso, latte, or even soy latte. Don't bother looking for the biscotti either... but feel free to try the Honey Crullers, they're awesome!
Okay, so it's not a trendy sidewalk cafe... It's a donut shop. But it means the same to every citizen of the True North, Strong and Free as Starbuck's means to Seattlites. It defines our country as much as the Loonie, Hockey Night in Canada, and beer. Mike Myers even paid a little tribute to this fine institution in Wayne's World... Remember Stan Mikita's, the donut shop where Garth saw his dream girl for the first time (Foxy Lady)? Well, just like Tim Horton, Stan Mikita was an NHLer from yester-year. Clever, eh? Anyway, Tim Horton's is the one place that you can count on finding a great cup of coffee no matter where you go in this massive country of ours.
So, anyways, about my poor thumbs... Tim's runs a contest once or twice a year that they call Roll Up the Rim to Win in which, as the name would suggest, you unroll the rim at the top of their paper coffee cups to (hopefully) reveal a prize. It could be a free coffee... It could be a free donut... And if you're one of the luckier people, it could be a 37" Plasma TV or an SUV! So, here I am, already heavily addicted to the drink, and now I have this carrot dangling before my eyes! Of course, when Roll Up the Rim time hits, I'm a rolling freak... I'm slugging back cup after cup (which probably isn't all that different from my normal coffee drinking habits, but it works for the story so lets go with it), I'm rolling up the rims, and I'm... well... actually, that's about all I'm doing because I can't win a thing! It's bad enough that, for the first week or so of the contest, I am constantly digging in the garbage for the cup I threw away an hour ago because I forgot to check the rim. Then, to not even get a reward for my efforts, well, it's maddening! It says right on the cup that the odds of winning a food prize (the most abundant of the prizes) are approximately 1 in 9, but I'm still batting zero! What gives?!? Instead, I get to read those 3 little words that I have come to loath even though I obey them like Pavlov's dog: Please Play Again.
Ding! I'm back in line at Tim Horton's, ordering my extra large black coffee to go, double-cupped once again. I have to get it double-cupped because Tim's keeps their coffee at a temperature equivalent to the surface of the sun, but they don't offer those fancy cardboard jackets to protect your already battered fingers... Of course, the second cup isn't one of the contest cups because that wouldn't be fair to the guy behind me in line. Speaking of which, look who just won a Mountain Bike... No good son of a...
My thumbs are sore. Now, that wouldn't be too shocking if I was some cross-eyed, ambidextrous carpenter with masochistic tendencies (don't laugh, I'm pretty sure I saw it on Jerry Springer), but I'm not. Nor am I one of the millions of PlayStation, Nintendo, and XBox junkies who feverishly rub, slide, and grind their opposable digits across ergonomic but unforgiving gamepads day and night. No, I'm just a simple Canadian boy who, if you haven't heard by now, has a thing for coffee. And, thanks to that, my thumbs are sore.
For those of you who are Canadian, you may already see where I am going with this. You may even share my pain... For those of you who aren't from The Great White North, or those of you who, in an attempt to keep those old stereotypes alive, have been living in an igloo, let me start at the beginning and introduce you to a little place called Tim Horton's.
Just as our friends to the south in the good ol' US of A have Starbuck's (you know, that little coffee shop that you can find on every corner in every town?), we have Tim Horton's. Of course, you won't find "tall", "grande", or "venti" on the menu... I'm afraid you'll have to settled for small, medium, large, or (my favorite) extra large. Oh, and we're talking about coffee here, not espresso, latte, or even soy latte. Don't bother looking for the biscotti either... but feel free to try the Honey Crullers, they're awesome!
Okay, so it's not a trendy sidewalk cafe... It's a donut shop. But it means the same to every citizen of the True North, Strong and Free as Starbuck's means to Seattlites. It defines our country as much as the Loonie, Hockey Night in Canada, and beer. Mike Myers even paid a little tribute to this fine institution in Wayne's World... Remember Stan Mikita's, the donut shop where Garth saw his dream girl for the first time (Foxy Lady)? Well, just like Tim Horton, Stan Mikita was an NHLer from yester-year. Clever, eh? Anyway, Tim Horton's is the one place that you can count on finding a great cup of coffee no matter where you go in this massive country of ours.
So, anyways, about my poor thumbs... Tim's runs a contest once or twice a year that they call Roll Up the Rim to Win in which, as the name would suggest, you unroll the rim at the top of their paper coffee cups to (hopefully) reveal a prize. It could be a free coffee... It could be a free donut... And if you're one of the luckier people, it could be a 37" Plasma TV or an SUV! So, here I am, already heavily addicted to the drink, and now I have this carrot dangling before my eyes! Of course, when Roll Up the Rim time hits, I'm a rolling freak... I'm slugging back cup after cup (which probably isn't all that different from my normal coffee drinking habits, but it works for the story so lets go with it), I'm rolling up the rims, and I'm... well... actually, that's about all I'm doing because I can't win a thing! It's bad enough that, for the first week or so of the contest, I am constantly digging in the garbage for the cup I threw away an hour ago because I forgot to check the rim. Then, to not even get a reward for my efforts, well, it's maddening! It says right on the cup that the odds of winning a food prize (the most abundant of the prizes) are approximately 1 in 9, but I'm still batting zero! What gives?!? Instead, I get to read those 3 little words that I have come to loath even though I obey them like Pavlov's dog: Please Play Again.
Ding! I'm back in line at Tim Horton's, ordering my extra large black coffee to go, double-cupped once again. I have to get it double-cupped because Tim's keeps their coffee at a temperature equivalent to the surface of the sun, but they don't offer those fancy cardboard jackets to protect your already battered fingers... Of course, the second cup isn't one of the contest cups because that wouldn't be fair to the guy behind me in line. Speaking of which, look who just won a Mountain Bike... No good son of a...
Friday, March 05, 2004
Investigative Journalism At Its Best
Outside of hunting down that first coffee of the day, I have very few morning rituals, that I am aware of. One, however, is to sit with said first cup of coffee and peruse the headlines on cnn.com. First, I check out the major news of the moment, conveniently located to the upper-right where all major things should be located (my apologies to all my lower-left loving readers...). I'll click on anything that looks mildly interesting, which immediately excludes pieces on the War in Iraq, American politics, and Martha Stewart. I did read about her long-awaited conviction, but that's not news, it's entertainment. Anyway, after a quick read, I'll back my browser up to the main page and scan for any other tidbits that might tickle my fancy or float my boat, depending on the day. Always, though, I visit the Technology section last, because, as everyone knows, that's where the fun stuff is.
I'm not talking about the latest worm to bring Outlook to its knees (when as the last time you really got an important, must-read email from qzxvksty@openme.com?) or frontline news from the War on Piracy (you already know my stance on that)... No, I'm talking about the really good articles... Like ones about the Segway, that self-balancing, 2-wheeled contraption that they thought would be all the rage with downtown executives, airport commuters, and mail carriers. Well, it's pretty hard to think of something that can be stumped by a flight of stairs or a curb as a "breakthrough in modern technology"... Imagine, all the convenience of a wheelchair without the need to sit down! Wow! Still, it makes for an entertaining read. Or, how about Bill Gates' latest and greatest idea? Have you heard that he's proposing we start paying for every email we send? Sure, he touts it as a way to help stop spammers by making it an unprofitable venture, but let's face it, we all know where he'd like to see the money end up... I bet it rhymes with Nicrosoft... It's a laugh, and that's often just what I need to start my day.
But, just the other day, I read an article in the Tech section with the headline, "Study: Very few bloggers on Net". I was stunned. Even being a fairly recent arrival on the blogging scene myself, I have seen more blogs by a greater variety of people than I ever would have suspected. So, naturally, I had to read on.
(You can read the article here, for as long as the link lasts)
After doing a survey, they (and I'm talking about the all-knowing, all-seeing They behind all good studies, rumors, and legends) found that only about 2 to 7 percent of adult internet users in the United States keep a blog and, of those, only about 10 percent update them daily. And of the 11 percent or so of people who actually read blogs, most prefer to read the ones of strangers over those of family or friends. Shocking. Or is it? Let's break it down, shall we?
First of all, they apparently surveyed adults instead of teens. Although my years of running wild and sneaking into bars are far behind me, I can still admit that the vast majority of new technologies are more readily embraced by the younger generation. So, obviously, the survey was narrow in scope and poorly targeted. Even so, 2 to 7 percent is still a pretty big number when you think about it. What percentage of American adults do you think keep a diary? Publish articles? Write books? I doubt it's as high.
Secondly, it's not surprising at all that only 10 percent of active bloggers update their sites on a daily basis. Unless you are the kind of person who feels the need to tell the world about every sandwich you make, every show you watch, every phone call you take, it's pretty difficult to come up with things to write about everyday. Don't get me wrong... Those kind of blogs definitely have their place. I even read a few for fun, from time to time. They are like little snapshots of everyday life. But, for the rest of us, it's more about finding something to write about, and sometimes there just isn't anything worth the time at the keyboard.
As for people liking to read strangers' blogs... Duh! No kidding! It's because the lives or points of view of people we don't know are interesting and intriguing (well, I think mine are, anyway...). Family and friends are wonderful and irreplaceable, but we see them and speak to them all the time. To turn around and then read all their thoughts would be redundant at best and totally boring at worst. It's the very same reason we'd rather watch an episode of The Real World instead of home movies...
So, all in all, I'm not sure what the point of the whole article was... The statistics were empty, the expectations were unstated, and the conclusion was misleading. Come to think of it, the only interesting thing about the article is the fact that the article exists at all! Cool, in a weird sort of way, when you think about it...
Wait. Did I just write a blog about the lack of blogging going on? Oh crap... I hope this doesn't cause the universe to fold over on itself... Somebody call CNN...
Outside of hunting down that first coffee of the day, I have very few morning rituals, that I am aware of. One, however, is to sit with said first cup of coffee and peruse the headlines on cnn.com. First, I check out the major news of the moment, conveniently located to the upper-right where all major things should be located (my apologies to all my lower-left loving readers...). I'll click on anything that looks mildly interesting, which immediately excludes pieces on the War in Iraq, American politics, and Martha Stewart. I did read about her long-awaited conviction, but that's not news, it's entertainment. Anyway, after a quick read, I'll back my browser up to the main page and scan for any other tidbits that might tickle my fancy or float my boat, depending on the day. Always, though, I visit the Technology section last, because, as everyone knows, that's where the fun stuff is.
I'm not talking about the latest worm to bring Outlook to its knees (when as the last time you really got an important, must-read email from qzxvksty@openme.com?) or frontline news from the War on Piracy (you already know my stance on that)... No, I'm talking about the really good articles... Like ones about the Segway, that self-balancing, 2-wheeled contraption that they thought would be all the rage with downtown executives, airport commuters, and mail carriers. Well, it's pretty hard to think of something that can be stumped by a flight of stairs or a curb as a "breakthrough in modern technology"... Imagine, all the convenience of a wheelchair without the need to sit down! Wow! Still, it makes for an entertaining read. Or, how about Bill Gates' latest and greatest idea? Have you heard that he's proposing we start paying for every email we send? Sure, he touts it as a way to help stop spammers by making it an unprofitable venture, but let's face it, we all know where he'd like to see the money end up... I bet it rhymes with Nicrosoft... It's a laugh, and that's often just what I need to start my day.
But, just the other day, I read an article in the Tech section with the headline, "Study: Very few bloggers on Net". I was stunned. Even being a fairly recent arrival on the blogging scene myself, I have seen more blogs by a greater variety of people than I ever would have suspected. So, naturally, I had to read on.
(You can read the article here, for as long as the link lasts)
After doing a survey, they (and I'm talking about the all-knowing, all-seeing They behind all good studies, rumors, and legends) found that only about 2 to 7 percent of adult internet users in the United States keep a blog and, of those, only about 10 percent update them daily. And of the 11 percent or so of people who actually read blogs, most prefer to read the ones of strangers over those of family or friends. Shocking. Or is it? Let's break it down, shall we?
First of all, they apparently surveyed adults instead of teens. Although my years of running wild and sneaking into bars are far behind me, I can still admit that the vast majority of new technologies are more readily embraced by the younger generation. So, obviously, the survey was narrow in scope and poorly targeted. Even so, 2 to 7 percent is still a pretty big number when you think about it. What percentage of American adults do you think keep a diary? Publish articles? Write books? I doubt it's as high.
Secondly, it's not surprising at all that only 10 percent of active bloggers update their sites on a daily basis. Unless you are the kind of person who feels the need to tell the world about every sandwich you make, every show you watch, every phone call you take, it's pretty difficult to come up with things to write about everyday. Don't get me wrong... Those kind of blogs definitely have their place. I even read a few for fun, from time to time. They are like little snapshots of everyday life. But, for the rest of us, it's more about finding something to write about, and sometimes there just isn't anything worth the time at the keyboard.
As for people liking to read strangers' blogs... Duh! No kidding! It's because the lives or points of view of people we don't know are interesting and intriguing (well, I think mine are, anyway...). Family and friends are wonderful and irreplaceable, but we see them and speak to them all the time. To turn around and then read all their thoughts would be redundant at best and totally boring at worst. It's the very same reason we'd rather watch an episode of The Real World instead of home movies...
So, all in all, I'm not sure what the point of the whole article was... The statistics were empty, the expectations were unstated, and the conclusion was misleading. Come to think of it, the only interesting thing about the article is the fact that the article exists at all! Cool, in a weird sort of way, when you think about it...
Wait. Did I just write a blog about the lack of blogging going on? Oh crap... I hope this doesn't cause the universe to fold over on itself... Somebody call CNN...
Wednesday, March 03, 2004
I Can't Say I'm Lovin' It...
And so, the end of an era draws to a close... Forget about the troubles in the Middle East, never mind that John Kerry won 9 out of 10 states on Super Tuesday, and let someone else worry about the evidence of water on Mars... Instead, turn your sights to the real News of the Day, what will surely be The Headline Heard 'Round The World: "McDonald's To Phase Out Super Size".
I awoke in the early hours of the morning to the usual traffic reports and weather forecasts that urge me from my peaceful slumber everyday, only to find myself sitting bolt upright in my bed as I heard the terrible news. McDonald's will no longer be offering the Super Size option with their Combo Meals. My first reaction was one of utter amazement. "This can't possibly be true!", I thought to myself (which, by the way, is a fairly coherent thought for me to have before my first coffee of the day). Perhaps I hadn't heard the whole story and they were talking about the latest headline from The National Enquirer... Or, maybe, in my caffeine-deprived state, I had experienced the equivalent of an auditory hallucination.
As I showered, incredibly overpriced shampoo dripping into and stinging my eyes (no sacrifice too great in the defense of the hairline), I paused... "Would they really kill the Super Size?" I wondered. "Nah... That's crazy!" Then, putting the worry out of my mind, I proceeded into the all important rinse and repeat. You know, just once I'd like to defy that little Cosmetic Commandment... But I'm afraid that the Almighty Creator of Good Hair would smite the remaining locks from head, leaving me to seek whatever solace I can find in fast cars, gaudy jewelry, and cheesy pick-up lines.
From that point on, my morning ablutions went as usual... Ablutions. Fancy word, eh? It's real... Look it up. I had to... Anyway, with a quick sniff, I determined which pile of wrinkled laundry was the clean one and got dressed. Then with a quick shave (why doesn't Male Pattern Baldness ever strike there?) and a smearing of deodorant, I was on to the brushing of the teeth... At which point I paused once again, this time to admire how the lathered toothpaste made me look like a well-groom rabid psychopath. Perhaps I should mention that to my imaginary shrink...
All was well until about 6 minutes into my ride to work. Once again, morning radio did it's little Traffic and Weather Square Dance, then moved on to the 10 second blurbs that are the only kind of news the freshly-awakened human mind is able to comprehend. And there it was again. This time it was presented by some goofy DJ that probably should have gone to bed early instead of staying up late to write his "jokes", but the message was the same... McDonald's is getting rid of their Super Size. Well, there was no denying the reality of it then. For years, that smiling clown with the funky red hair has been giving us the most amazing deals on what must be narcotically-enhanced fries (how else to explain their obsessively addictive goodness?), but the free ride is over. Sure, the size of the pop (soda, if you're one of our southern neighbors) is going to shrink, too, but I don't think I'm going to miss those last 10 or 12 swallows of warm Coke, diluted to the color of herbal tea as much as I'll miss those salty little sticks of heaven.
Well, at least they aren't getting rid of the fries completely, but I think our society is in for a shake-up. Fights over The Last Fry will become more intense, the time-honored ritual of "stealing" a handful of fries from a friend, no questions asked, will come to an end and, more importantly, we're going to have to get used to hearing the words, "Would you like even more fries with that?"
And so, the end of an era draws to a close... Forget about the troubles in the Middle East, never mind that John Kerry won 9 out of 10 states on Super Tuesday, and let someone else worry about the evidence of water on Mars... Instead, turn your sights to the real News of the Day, what will surely be The Headline Heard 'Round The World: "McDonald's To Phase Out Super Size".
I awoke in the early hours of the morning to the usual traffic reports and weather forecasts that urge me from my peaceful slumber everyday, only to find myself sitting bolt upright in my bed as I heard the terrible news. McDonald's will no longer be offering the Super Size option with their Combo Meals. My first reaction was one of utter amazement. "This can't possibly be true!", I thought to myself (which, by the way, is a fairly coherent thought for me to have before my first coffee of the day). Perhaps I hadn't heard the whole story and they were talking about the latest headline from The National Enquirer... Or, maybe, in my caffeine-deprived state, I had experienced the equivalent of an auditory hallucination.
As I showered, incredibly overpriced shampoo dripping into and stinging my eyes (no sacrifice too great in the defense of the hairline), I paused... "Would they really kill the Super Size?" I wondered. "Nah... That's crazy!" Then, putting the worry out of my mind, I proceeded into the all important rinse and repeat. You know, just once I'd like to defy that little Cosmetic Commandment... But I'm afraid that the Almighty Creator of Good Hair would smite the remaining locks from head, leaving me to seek whatever solace I can find in fast cars, gaudy jewelry, and cheesy pick-up lines.
From that point on, my morning ablutions went as usual... Ablutions. Fancy word, eh? It's real... Look it up. I had to... Anyway, with a quick sniff, I determined which pile of wrinkled laundry was the clean one and got dressed. Then with a quick shave (why doesn't Male Pattern Baldness ever strike there?) and a smearing of deodorant, I was on to the brushing of the teeth... At which point I paused once again, this time to admire how the lathered toothpaste made me look like a well-groom rabid psychopath. Perhaps I should mention that to my imaginary shrink...
All was well until about 6 minutes into my ride to work. Once again, morning radio did it's little Traffic and Weather Square Dance, then moved on to the 10 second blurbs that are the only kind of news the freshly-awakened human mind is able to comprehend. And there it was again. This time it was presented by some goofy DJ that probably should have gone to bed early instead of staying up late to write his "jokes", but the message was the same... McDonald's is getting rid of their Super Size. Well, there was no denying the reality of it then. For years, that smiling clown with the funky red hair has been giving us the most amazing deals on what must be narcotically-enhanced fries (how else to explain their obsessively addictive goodness?), but the free ride is over. Sure, the size of the pop (soda, if you're one of our southern neighbors) is going to shrink, too, but I don't think I'm going to miss those last 10 or 12 swallows of warm Coke, diluted to the color of herbal tea as much as I'll miss those salty little sticks of heaven.
Well, at least they aren't getting rid of the fries completely, but I think our society is in for a shake-up. Fights over The Last Fry will become more intense, the time-honored ritual of "stealing" a handful of fries from a friend, no questions asked, will come to an end and, more importantly, we're going to have to get used to hearing the words, "Would you like even more fries with that?"
Saturday, February 28, 2004
The Comment That Never Was
If you've bothered to read through the very long blog just before this one, you may have noticed that someone had a very insightful comment. You wouldn't, however, have seen what that comment was, since my "Comments" feature doesn't support very long messages (no matter how good they are)... Sorry.
Fortunately, the comment was emailed to me. As I said, very insightful... So, with the permission of the author (who will be referred to as "Doc Atomic"), I am going to post the full content of his email below. Before I do, though, I'd just like to say that I personally know the good Doc, and I've come to respect his opinions and points of view on a broad range of topics. While I might not always agree (or understand), this doesn't make his points any less valid. With that said, I give you "It's The End of the Whirled, As We Know It...":
I'd had this thought a couple of years back also, but I don't think it'll fly.
Why? Look at the historical examples. For instance; in my record collection, I
have examples of the highest state of the art: Original Master recordings;
Japanese pressings on absolutely pure virgin vinyl; and even a rare,
limited-quantity *direct-to-disc* recording -- the highest fidelity that has
ever _been_ attained in consumer-available audio! These types of pressings
enjoyed a *brief* flurry of availability a quarter-century ago, but never really
became "popular" enough to justify their production cost -- and so, they died;
and it wasn't even the advent of CDs that killed them... it was simply due to
the lack of a real market; the vast majority of people had *grown up* with the
mass-produced 'lo-fi' crap, and that _was_ "music" to *them*... hell; most
people to this very day _still_ wouldn't recognise true high fidelity sound even
if it was played loud enough to blast their tympani straight
down through their Eustacian tubes and out their assholes.
The first thing that came to my mind when you mentioned "lower-quality"
distribution, though, was not music; it was 'bootleg' movies. Imagine: some
wank-off sitting in a movie theatre with a cheap vidcam -- dark picture; echoing
sound; severe 'keystone' distortion due to the angle of seating; heads bobbing
in front of the camera; coughing, and other audience noises -- this sort of shit
actually *sells*! In fact, it was exactly how I first seen "The Scorpion King",
and a couple of other equally-forgettable ones... on cheap, mass-stamped (_not_
CDR) VCDs, sold in the streets by the *millions*.
Quality be damned, eh? I think you are certainly partly right, with the issue
of cost -- but; to that, I would also add _availability_, and *convenience*...
which brings me back to those hi-fi pressings, because; although "fidelity" was
highly-touted as "The Issue" when vinyl was being replaced by CDs, it was
actually false -- as I pointed out above, higher fidelity than CDs certainly did
exist at the time and in fact, has never since been equalled. No; the *real*
selling advantage of CDs back then was the _convenience_ -- the ability to play
any track, in any order, any number of times, *immediately*, or even _remotely_
-- with no preparation (cleaning) or attention (care in placing the stylus on
the groove properly) being necessary.
As a result, we lost the "3D" dimensionality of the stereo image -- which CDs
_cannot_ reproduce, simply because of their time resolution limitation -- and
now, it is no longer possible to distinguish the *spaces between* the
instruments being played; instead, we get only a "flat wall" of sound, instead
of a sense of actually _being_ there *in* the performance (or audience). And
by-and-large, the vast majority of people never even noticed.
The same thing is happening right now, with .mp3 files. By definition, .mp3 is
a _lossy_ format -- meaning, the quality is NOT as good as the original. Like
the 'fringing' artifacts seen in .jpg images, .mp3 files suffer from loss of
definition, 'hollowness', and misphasing... and again, people simply don't give
a shit, because the .mp3 format is _convenient_... just pop your player onto a
USB port in some NetsCafe (or at work), and download your day's tuneage.
"Price" doesn't even *begin* to enter the picture!
I predict that within ten years, we will see the pressing of the very last CD.
Of course, they'll be gone from Europe and NorthAm long before that, but,
there'll always be a handful of "holdouts"... and, the "have-not" countries,
overseas -- which is where it will actually happen.
And by then, we will no longer have *any* choice about it... "fidelity" will
have degraded yet another order of magnitude lower, and we will have NO
alternatives.
If you've bothered to read through the very long blog just before this one, you may have noticed that someone had a very insightful comment. You wouldn't, however, have seen what that comment was, since my "Comments" feature doesn't support very long messages (no matter how good they are)... Sorry.
Fortunately, the comment was emailed to me. As I said, very insightful... So, with the permission of the author (who will be referred to as "Doc Atomic"), I am going to post the full content of his email below. Before I do, though, I'd just like to say that I personally know the good Doc, and I've come to respect his opinions and points of view on a broad range of topics. While I might not always agree (or understand), this doesn't make his points any less valid. With that said, I give you "It's The End of the Whirled, As We Know It...":
I'd had this thought a couple of years back also, but I don't think it'll fly.
Why? Look at the historical examples. For instance; in my record collection, I
have examples of the highest state of the art: Original Master recordings;
Japanese pressings on absolutely pure virgin vinyl; and even a rare,
limited-quantity *direct-to-disc* recording -- the highest fidelity that has
ever _been_ attained in consumer-available audio! These types of pressings
enjoyed a *brief* flurry of availability a quarter-century ago, but never really
became "popular" enough to justify their production cost -- and so, they died;
and it wasn't even the advent of CDs that killed them... it was simply due to
the lack of a real market; the vast majority of people had *grown up* with the
mass-produced 'lo-fi' crap, and that _was_ "music" to *them*... hell; most
people to this very day _still_ wouldn't recognise true high fidelity sound even
if it was played loud enough to blast their tympani straight
down through their Eustacian tubes and out their assholes.
The first thing that came to my mind when you mentioned "lower-quality"
distribution, though, was not music; it was 'bootleg' movies. Imagine: some
wank-off sitting in a movie theatre with a cheap vidcam -- dark picture; echoing
sound; severe 'keystone' distortion due to the angle of seating; heads bobbing
in front of the camera; coughing, and other audience noises -- this sort of shit
actually *sells*! In fact, it was exactly how I first seen "The Scorpion King",
and a couple of other equally-forgettable ones... on cheap, mass-stamped (_not_
CDR) VCDs, sold in the streets by the *millions*.
Quality be damned, eh? I think you are certainly partly right, with the issue
of cost -- but; to that, I would also add _availability_, and *convenience*...
which brings me back to those hi-fi pressings, because; although "fidelity" was
highly-touted as "The Issue" when vinyl was being replaced by CDs, it was
actually false -- as I pointed out above, higher fidelity than CDs certainly did
exist at the time and in fact, has never since been equalled. No; the *real*
selling advantage of CDs back then was the _convenience_ -- the ability to play
any track, in any order, any number of times, *immediately*, or even _remotely_
-- with no preparation (cleaning) or attention (care in placing the stylus on
the groove properly) being necessary.
As a result, we lost the "3D" dimensionality of the stereo image -- which CDs
_cannot_ reproduce, simply because of their time resolution limitation -- and
now, it is no longer possible to distinguish the *spaces between* the
instruments being played; instead, we get only a "flat wall" of sound, instead
of a sense of actually _being_ there *in* the performance (or audience). And
by-and-large, the vast majority of people never even noticed.
The same thing is happening right now, with .mp3 files. By definition, .mp3 is
a _lossy_ format -- meaning, the quality is NOT as good as the original. Like
the 'fringing' artifacts seen in .jpg images, .mp3 files suffer from loss of
definition, 'hollowness', and misphasing... and again, people simply don't give
a shit, because the .mp3 format is _convenient_... just pop your player onto a
USB port in some NetsCafe (or at work), and download your day's tuneage.
"Price" doesn't even *begin* to enter the picture!
I predict that within ten years, we will see the pressing of the very last CD.
Of course, they'll be gone from Europe and NorthAm long before that, but,
there'll always be a handful of "holdouts"... and, the "have-not" countries,
overseas -- which is where it will actually happen.
And by then, we will no longer have *any* choice about it... "fidelity" will
have degraded yet another order of magnitude lower, and we will have NO
alternatives.
Saturday, February 21, 2004
"Aye, Matey!"
If there's one thing that the music and film industries need to realize, it's that the war is already over.
For the past few years, they've been trying to fight against the rising wave of piracy and file-swapping that they claim is destroying their business, but to little avail. A volley of attacks have been launched against Internet Service Providers, file-swapping services, and, most recently, end-users themselves. Still, success in stemming the flow of bootleg material across the vastness of the Internet has remained elusive. So far, each assault has only served to teach their opponents how to better hide behind the anonymity of the 'Net and how to develop more efficient methods to "rip" and "swap" everything from 80's music and video games to full-length feature films still showing in the theatres.
The futility has become most evident recently with the propaganda we are now subjected to during the "Coming Attractions"... Who hasn't had to sit and listen to some poor guy go on and on about how hard he works to make a movie and how it takes money out of his pocket each time someone downloads a copy? Come on! This isn't even a valid argument... The people who make the films don't suffer because all they do is raise the prices. Actually, it's the paying public who hurts in the long run. Remember when it only cost 5 bucks to see a movie? Yeah, me too... barely. And here's the funniest part about it all... The ever-increasing prices are only going to encourage people to download more! It's high time for the music and film industries to admit defeat on this front and try to salvage what they can.
A quick word before I continue... I am not promoting the piracy and/or sharing of copyright material. I think the debate over the moral and legal standpoints of this topic has raged on long enough. Instead, I'd rather focus on where to go from here.
Why do most people download music instead of buying it? Why spend hours getting "50 First Dates" from the Internet instead of just going to the cineplex? The real thing is just too expensive, that's why. It's not because the common man (or woman, for those of you who adhere to political correctness) is lawless by nature, thumbing his (or her) nose at authority. And it's not because they want to see the artists suffer in spite of their efforts. It's all about money. Why continue to keep up with rising prices year after year when "reasonable facsimiles" can be obtained for free? And, as I mentioned above, it's only going to get worse as the prices are pushed through the roof to make up for losses due to bootlegging. So, what is the answer then? While I firmly believe that it is impossible to stop piracy, I also think it can be slowed down by reducing the need to copy and share.
A close friend of mine and I were talking about this very topic over a year ago, and he put forth an idea that I thought was brilliant. So, of course, I'll tell you all about it and, even though I've just given the credit to him, you'll always remember that you read it here first and think of me as the genius. I love it when a plan comes together...
This battle didn't begin with Kazaa and the millions of people who opened their hard drives to each other to share the latest movies... Nor did it begin with Napster and the countless MP3s that flooded the Internet. In fact, this goes back further than the Internet, further digital media, further even than the home computer itself. For as long as there has been art, there has been someone to copy it. And for as long as there has been someone to copy it, there has been someone who would settle for a copy over the original. So, if this is true, how is it that painters, sculptors, and authors today still manage to survive? Why hasn't piracy destroyed them by now, especially considering how much longer they've been subjected to it? This is why: They found a way to embrace it and profit from it.
Very few of us can afford a painting by the likes of Picasso. To actually own a piece sculpted by Michelangelo is unthinkable. To read a book written in the hand-writing of Charles Dickens himself would be a once-in-a-lifetime event. Yet, the works of these three are readily available to any man, woman, or child who wishes to experience them... thanks to copies. The reproductions of these great works have done nothing to diminish the originals. Without question, they aren't as good, but for those who can't or won't afford the real thing, they provide an excellent alternative.
The proposal put forth by my friend was a simple one... Offer two levels of purchase for the consumer. For those who prefer to own "the best", continue to provide high-quality CDs and DVDs with all the fancy packaging and artwork. For those who don't find this necessary or who can live without the "perfect sound", offer music and movies in a cheaper, slightly inferior form. Strip out things like a flashy jewel case, booklet insert, or "DVD extras" and offer a trimmed down version. Allow music-lovers a way to purchase 30 or 40 MP3s (of their choice) burned onto a personalized CD right in the music store. Then, offer these alternatives at a price that would make them attractive and people wouldn't be so compelled to download the stuff from the 'Net.
Sure, there will always be people who would rather spend 16 hours downloading something they could pay 3 dollars for, but they are few and far between. Also, since file-sharing relies heavily on lots of people doing it, eventually even these die-hards would have to opt for the legal alternative.
I know this may sound a little Utopian right now... And there are complexities that I haven't (and won't) touch on. But it's the beginning of a plan. More importantly, it's the beginning of a plan that has everyone's best interests in mind. It's not just a way to control the illegal spread of copyright material, and it's not just a way to lower prices... It's both. Not to mention the fact that, if artists are faced with the need to convince us to buy the "full price" version, we may see a marked increase in the quality of products offered. In the end, everyone wins.
So, maybe I was a little hasty in claiming that the war is already over... But we certainly are in the final stages. If the pieces are played correctly, we'll have a stalemate that will let everybody walk away from the table happy.
If there's one thing that the music and film industries need to realize, it's that the war is already over.
For the past few years, they've been trying to fight against the rising wave of piracy and file-swapping that they claim is destroying their business, but to little avail. A volley of attacks have been launched against Internet Service Providers, file-swapping services, and, most recently, end-users themselves. Still, success in stemming the flow of bootleg material across the vastness of the Internet has remained elusive. So far, each assault has only served to teach their opponents how to better hide behind the anonymity of the 'Net and how to develop more efficient methods to "rip" and "swap" everything from 80's music and video games to full-length feature films still showing in the theatres.
The futility has become most evident recently with the propaganda we are now subjected to during the "Coming Attractions"... Who hasn't had to sit and listen to some poor guy go on and on about how hard he works to make a movie and how it takes money out of his pocket each time someone downloads a copy? Come on! This isn't even a valid argument... The people who make the films don't suffer because all they do is raise the prices. Actually, it's the paying public who hurts in the long run. Remember when it only cost 5 bucks to see a movie? Yeah, me too... barely. And here's the funniest part about it all... The ever-increasing prices are only going to encourage people to download more! It's high time for the music and film industries to admit defeat on this front and try to salvage what they can.
A quick word before I continue... I am not promoting the piracy and/or sharing of copyright material. I think the debate over the moral and legal standpoints of this topic has raged on long enough. Instead, I'd rather focus on where to go from here.
Why do most people download music instead of buying it? Why spend hours getting "50 First Dates" from the Internet instead of just going to the cineplex? The real thing is just too expensive, that's why. It's not because the common man (or woman, for those of you who adhere to political correctness) is lawless by nature, thumbing his (or her) nose at authority. And it's not because they want to see the artists suffer in spite of their efforts. It's all about money. Why continue to keep up with rising prices year after year when "reasonable facsimiles" can be obtained for free? And, as I mentioned above, it's only going to get worse as the prices are pushed through the roof to make up for losses due to bootlegging. So, what is the answer then? While I firmly believe that it is impossible to stop piracy, I also think it can be slowed down by reducing the need to copy and share.
A close friend of mine and I were talking about this very topic over a year ago, and he put forth an idea that I thought was brilliant. So, of course, I'll tell you all about it and, even though I've just given the credit to him, you'll always remember that you read it here first and think of me as the genius. I love it when a plan comes together...
This battle didn't begin with Kazaa and the millions of people who opened their hard drives to each other to share the latest movies... Nor did it begin with Napster and the countless MP3s that flooded the Internet. In fact, this goes back further than the Internet, further digital media, further even than the home computer itself. For as long as there has been art, there has been someone to copy it. And for as long as there has been someone to copy it, there has been someone who would settle for a copy over the original. So, if this is true, how is it that painters, sculptors, and authors today still manage to survive? Why hasn't piracy destroyed them by now, especially considering how much longer they've been subjected to it? This is why: They found a way to embrace it and profit from it.
Very few of us can afford a painting by the likes of Picasso. To actually own a piece sculpted by Michelangelo is unthinkable. To read a book written in the hand-writing of Charles Dickens himself would be a once-in-a-lifetime event. Yet, the works of these three are readily available to any man, woman, or child who wishes to experience them... thanks to copies. The reproductions of these great works have done nothing to diminish the originals. Without question, they aren't as good, but for those who can't or won't afford the real thing, they provide an excellent alternative.
The proposal put forth by my friend was a simple one... Offer two levels of purchase for the consumer. For those who prefer to own "the best", continue to provide high-quality CDs and DVDs with all the fancy packaging and artwork. For those who don't find this necessary or who can live without the "perfect sound", offer music and movies in a cheaper, slightly inferior form. Strip out things like a flashy jewel case, booklet insert, or "DVD extras" and offer a trimmed down version. Allow music-lovers a way to purchase 30 or 40 MP3s (of their choice) burned onto a personalized CD right in the music store. Then, offer these alternatives at a price that would make them attractive and people wouldn't be so compelled to download the stuff from the 'Net.
Sure, there will always be people who would rather spend 16 hours downloading something they could pay 3 dollars for, but they are few and far between. Also, since file-sharing relies heavily on lots of people doing it, eventually even these die-hards would have to opt for the legal alternative.
I know this may sound a little Utopian right now... And there are complexities that I haven't (and won't) touch on. But it's the beginning of a plan. More importantly, it's the beginning of a plan that has everyone's best interests in mind. It's not just a way to control the illegal spread of copyright material, and it's not just a way to lower prices... It's both. Not to mention the fact that, if artists are faced with the need to convince us to buy the "full price" version, we may see a marked increase in the quality of products offered. In the end, everyone wins.
So, maybe I was a little hasty in claiming that the war is already over... But we certainly are in the final stages. If the pieces are played correctly, we'll have a stalemate that will let everybody walk away from the table happy.
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