Every now and then I share stuff with my son that I enjoyed a lot when I was a kid. His newest favorite is Donald in Mathmagic Land. I remember seeing this in school fairly early in my scholastic career--it was on a film reel rather than a videotape.
He's quoting it already, which is very cute. His favorite parts are the billiards demonstration and the "doors of the future."
Check it out for yourself.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Friday, August 29, 2008
Today is canceled due to illness.
Nothing like a little food poisoning to kick off a three-day weekend. Hopefully I'll be over it soon. Blech.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Once you've had extra-crispy...
Saw this on Topless Robot, and it was too good to pass up.
Really? This got signed off without anybody thinking it was a trifle peculiar to have an action figure set where the characters are facing imminent death? Maybe they just thought, yeah, it's creepy, but at least it's not this:
Really? This got signed off without anybody thinking it was a trifle peculiar to have an action figure set where the characters are facing imminent death? Maybe they just thought, yeah, it's creepy, but at least it's not this:
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Exercises in frustration
OK, so back in the day, I played craptons of games on my Commodore 64. One that used to just drive me nuts was Aliens.
I eventually got decent at it, but it took forever and a day to get past the first level, which was the spaceship re-entry procedure. You had to maneuver through a series of rings that, I assume, represented the safest trajectory for your ship through atmospheric re-entry.
At first it seems pretty easy, but once you run into turbulence, the rings are farther apart, and more scattered. Miss a ring, and you're pretty much screwed because you'll have to start over from the beginning.
This particular gameplay "feature" would come back to bite me in the ass with Superman 64, a game that I actually asked for. On purpose.
How bad is it? Ask the Angry Video Game Nerd. He pretty much says it all. But if you doubt his opinion, try looking up "Superman 64 sucks" on Google.
I eventually got decent at it, but it took forever and a day to get past the first level, which was the spaceship re-entry procedure. You had to maneuver through a series of rings that, I assume, represented the safest trajectory for your ship through atmospheric re-entry.
At first it seems pretty easy, but once you run into turbulence, the rings are farther apart, and more scattered. Miss a ring, and you're pretty much screwed because you'll have to start over from the beginning.
This particular gameplay "feature" would come back to bite me in the ass with Superman 64, a game that I actually asked for. On purpose.
How bad is it? Ask the Angry Video Game Nerd. He pretty much says it all. But if you doubt his opinion, try looking up "Superman 64 sucks" on Google.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
There's always room for cello
When I was in fourth grade, we had a music assembly in the multipurpose room. It was their annual orchestra recruitment assembly where they'd tell us that we could have fun in the orchestra, bla bla bla.
Naturally, piano wasn't one of the options (I played a mean electronic organ at home), so I wasn't paying that much attention. For some reason, fourth-graders could only play stringed instruments such as the violin.
They gave us a demonstration of the various instruments, and still, I wasn't interested.
Until the guy with the cello showed up.
I was intrigued by the fact that, unlike most of the other instruments, to play the cello meant you got to sit down.
Hey, I'm lazy.
But what really sold me was when he started playing the theme to Star Wars on it. How badass was that? I'd be the life of the party in no time.
Now there were a few obstacles in my way here. The instruments, I'd heard from friends, were very expensive, and being a total klutz, I knew there was no way I could convince my parents to buy me a cello outright.
Oh, and there was the small matter of me never having played the cello or any other stringed instrument, unless you counted the Mousegetar I had when I was 4.
There was essentially one way for me to be able to play cello in the orchestra. There was a district-wide music test that would be given in all the schools, and the top students would be allowed to use the district-owned instruments.
And out of all the students interested, only two in our school would get the cellos. So the odds weren't exactly in my favor.
The day of the test came, and we musical wannabes filed into the multipurpose room and did our best.
As it ended up, the two students who got the district's cellos were my friend Erin and me. Don't ask me how I was a top scorer. To this day, I have no idea.
And while I never learned how to play Star Wars (apparently you can't just start with that; who knew?), I was still excited to play in a school recital.
How excited?
Yep. About that excited. How I ever ended up getting married is beyond me.
Naturally, piano wasn't one of the options (I played a mean electronic organ at home), so I wasn't paying that much attention. For some reason, fourth-graders could only play stringed instruments such as the violin.
They gave us a demonstration of the various instruments, and still, I wasn't interested.
Until the guy with the cello showed up.
I was intrigued by the fact that, unlike most of the other instruments, to play the cello meant you got to sit down.
Hey, I'm lazy.
But what really sold me was when he started playing the theme to Star Wars on it. How badass was that? I'd be the life of the party in no time.
Now there were a few obstacles in my way here. The instruments, I'd heard from friends, were very expensive, and being a total klutz, I knew there was no way I could convince my parents to buy me a cello outright.
Oh, and there was the small matter of me never having played the cello or any other stringed instrument, unless you counted the Mousegetar I had when I was 4.
There was essentially one way for me to be able to play cello in the orchestra. There was a district-wide music test that would be given in all the schools, and the top students would be allowed to use the district-owned instruments.
And out of all the students interested, only two in our school would get the cellos. So the odds weren't exactly in my favor.
The day of the test came, and we musical wannabes filed into the multipurpose room and did our best.
As it ended up, the two students who got the district's cellos were my friend Erin and me. Don't ask me how I was a top scorer. To this day, I have no idea.
And while I never learned how to play Star Wars (apparently you can't just start with that; who knew?), I was still excited to play in a school recital.
How excited?
Yep. About that excited. How I ever ended up getting married is beyond me.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Stupid Internet. Bah!
As I spent most of the night trying to revive my Internet connection, I'm fresh out of time to regale you with a pointless tale from yesteryear.
But I don't want you to go away empty-handed, so here, providing just about the same level of maturity, is an episode of Jackass.
But I don't want you to go away empty-handed, so here, providing just about the same level of maturity, is an episode of Jackass.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Let's be careful out there
With school starting for the youngsters, I thought it might be a good idea to review some basic rules of bicycle safety.
Since I fell off my bike almost every time I rode, I thought maybe I should leave the safety tips to someone else more qualified.
Like YouTube.
Since I fell off my bike almost every time I rode, I thought maybe I should leave the safety tips to someone else more qualified.
Like YouTube.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Friday, August 22, 2008
Using my great brain
I'm sure I've mentioned it before, but one of my favorite book series as a kid was John D. Fitzgerald's The Great Brain books.I read all the books a billion times, but as a kid I chanced upon an old paperback version that read something like "Soon to be a major motion picture starring Jimmy Osmond!"
In all the years since then, I've still never come across that movie. I'm sure somehow, someday, I'll track it down, but for now I'll have to settle for a clip on YouTube of Jimmy performing the theme to the movie.
This is the first time I've heard the song, and wouldn't you know it, the damn thing is stuck in my head already.
I'd love to see even a TV movie of these books made in the future.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Staying abreast of the latest gadgets
I've said before that when it comes to products, names are very important. Some products sound like all of 30 seconds was used to come up with the name (Head-On, Active-On, etc.). But sometimes a clever or funny name gets the customer halfway to buying without even looking at the product.
Case in point.
What more can you say abou tit?
There should be a version for guys that's like a bird instead of a bear. You'd get the pirate market for sure. You could call it the Parateat.
I look forward to seeing the Great Balls of Fire Refrigerated Athletic Supporter. I mean, come on...where do you go from the Tiddy Bear? Geen-frickin-ius.
Case in point.
What more can you say abou tit?
There should be a version for guys that's like a bird instead of a bear. You'd get the pirate market for sure. You could call it the Parateat.
I look forward to seeing the Great Balls of Fire Refrigerated Athletic Supporter. I mean, come on...where do you go from the Tiddy Bear? Geen-frickin-ius.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
A work of genius
Found a blog today written by a certifiable genius. I can't put my finger on why he's so awesome, but I just had to share.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Now *that* is a memorable obituary
During my tenure as a newspaper copy editor, one of my many duties was to write the obituaries. Our paper, as a community service, printed obits for free. If the family wanted, they could also buy an ad, in which they could write all the flowery prose they wanted.
I mention this because our free obits were written pretty straight--you know, like a news story. This doesn't seem too difficult until you realize that sometimes deciphering what came in on the obit form was like translating stereo instructions into Aramaic. In the dark. With off-brand crayons that didn't so much write as they did crumble and smear in more or less of a line.
One of the first obits I had to write was for one of my teachers in junior high school. That was kind of a bummer. The last obit I wrote was after my newspaper days, for my son, Harry, and it was the hardest thing I've ever written. But remembering how things would come in from funeral homes, I wasn't about to take any chances.
As I said, we had a straight news format for our obituaries, and it was not uncommon to get calls after they ran, admonishing us for not phrasing it exactly how it was on the form. In news obits, generally speaking, people die. They don't pass on, pass away, or as one form put it, "jumped into the arms of Jesus."
I took great care in writing the obituaries, though, as you can imagine, it was a hell of a way to start the day. I had to call the local mortuaries every day to see if I should be hovering around the fax machine for anything.
"Hi, this is Jeff. Just checking to see if you had anything today."
"Nope, none today."
"I guess everyone felt like living today."
"Looks like it. Talk to you tomorrow."
Yes, it's true. You can't deal with these day after day without developing a bit of gallows humor. Not to the families, of course.
In fact, I tried not to bother them unless absolutely necessary. They had enough to deal with, and part of the cost of funeral service is going over next of kin with the funeral director so you didn't have to talk to some schlub from the newspaper.
That said, after being burned enough times by less-than-stellar transcription from our sources, we ended up calling the families more often than not.
It's awkward talking to the bereaved anyway. Especially if you're a stranger. And extra especially if you are uncomfortable talking on the phone to the point that you don't even order pizza.
But we had a duty to double-check any names that were spelled out of the ordinary, confirm any discrepancies in service times, that kind of thing.
I was talking to the son of someone who'd died, and I was trying to verify the time of the Mass, as it was on there both ways.
That's another thing you learn. Depending on religion, the deceased could have a Mass of Christian Burial, services, Trisagion services, or remembrance.
Every time I asked about the Mass (as it was written on the form), he'd tell me the service was at 2 p.m. Usually, the Mass would be early in the morning, and that's why I was asking. Eventually we got to the salient point:
"No, I don't under--it's just a service. My dad wasn't even Catholic."
This also meant that the service was not, in fact, going to be at the local Catholic church.
Reading the forms was often like reading a really interesting story, or part of one. The universal thread in every obit I wrote was that the person who died would be missed by their family. Not once did I come across one that was "Mr. X was a right bastard, and in lieu of flowers, attendees are asked to line up early to urinate on the gravesite."
This obit, which I found on Fark.com, comes pretty damned close, though. As the original obit link disappeared, they've pasted the text of the obit in the discussion thread.
Ouch.
I mention this because our free obits were written pretty straight--you know, like a news story. This doesn't seem too difficult until you realize that sometimes deciphering what came in on the obit form was like translating stereo instructions into Aramaic. In the dark. With off-brand crayons that didn't so much write as they did crumble and smear in more or less of a line.
One of the first obits I had to write was for one of my teachers in junior high school. That was kind of a bummer. The last obit I wrote was after my newspaper days, for my son, Harry, and it was the hardest thing I've ever written. But remembering how things would come in from funeral homes, I wasn't about to take any chances.
As I said, we had a straight news format for our obituaries, and it was not uncommon to get calls after they ran, admonishing us for not phrasing it exactly how it was on the form. In news obits, generally speaking, people die. They don't pass on, pass away, or as one form put it, "jumped into the arms of Jesus."
I took great care in writing the obituaries, though, as you can imagine, it was a hell of a way to start the day. I had to call the local mortuaries every day to see if I should be hovering around the fax machine for anything.
"Hi, this is Jeff. Just checking to see if you had anything today."
"Nope, none today."
"I guess everyone felt like living today."
"Looks like it. Talk to you tomorrow."
Yes, it's true. You can't deal with these day after day without developing a bit of gallows humor. Not to the families, of course.
In fact, I tried not to bother them unless absolutely necessary. They had enough to deal with, and part of the cost of funeral service is going over next of kin with the funeral director so you didn't have to talk to some schlub from the newspaper.
That said, after being burned enough times by less-than-stellar transcription from our sources, we ended up calling the families more often than not.
It's awkward talking to the bereaved anyway. Especially if you're a stranger. And extra especially if you are uncomfortable talking on the phone to the point that you don't even order pizza.
But we had a duty to double-check any names that were spelled out of the ordinary, confirm any discrepancies in service times, that kind of thing.
I was talking to the son of someone who'd died, and I was trying to verify the time of the Mass, as it was on there both ways.
That's another thing you learn. Depending on religion, the deceased could have a Mass of Christian Burial, services, Trisagion services, or remembrance.
Every time I asked about the Mass (as it was written on the form), he'd tell me the service was at 2 p.m. Usually, the Mass would be early in the morning, and that's why I was asking. Eventually we got to the salient point:
"No, I don't under--it's just a service. My dad wasn't even Catholic."
This also meant that the service was not, in fact, going to be at the local Catholic church.
Reading the forms was often like reading a really interesting story, or part of one. The universal thread in every obit I wrote was that the person who died would be missed by their family. Not once did I come across one that was "Mr. X was a right bastard, and in lieu of flowers, attendees are asked to line up early to urinate on the gravesite."
This obit, which I found on Fark.com, comes pretty damned close, though. As the original obit link disappeared, they've pasted the text of the obit in the discussion thread.
Ouch.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
OK, there's *not* always room for Jell-O
At least, there's no room if it's something like this:
Dear God, this makes head cheese look appetizing by comparison. I may have posted this before, but this really deserves another look because you should avoid this at all costs.
Dear God, this makes head cheese look appetizing by comparison. I may have posted this before, but this really deserves another look because you should avoid this at all costs.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Public service announcement
Saw this today, and it struck me as important enough to share with all of you, especially if you, like me, are a fan of The Office.
Won't you think of Jenna?
Won't you think of Jenna?
Friday, August 15, 2008
Friday night freakout
I stumbled across this today. Back in the early days of VCRs, we must have rented every Disney title on the market. Not just The Parent Trap or Alice in Wonderland. I'm talking Snowball Express, Condorman, and The Black Hole.
This movie weirded me out a little as a kid; it was awfully dark for a Disney movie (aside from the black hole, which for some reason was red). And I was fine throughout the bulk of the movie, but it was the ending that got me. I could never tell exactly what was going on.
Even now, I'm a little fuzzy on what is happening. You watch the ending here, and you tell me what happened. The bad guy goes to hell, but the good guys in the spaceship are led by an angel through Heaven and out into open space?
This movie weirded me out a little as a kid; it was awfully dark for a Disney movie (aside from the black hole, which for some reason was red). And I was fine throughout the bulk of the movie, but it was the ending that got me. I could never tell exactly what was going on.
Even now, I'm a little fuzzy on what is happening. You watch the ending here, and you tell me what happened. The bad guy goes to hell, but the good guys in the spaceship are led by an angel through Heaven and out into open space?
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
It's a small world, after all
So what with all the various social networks around, there are a lot of ways to contact me. The most popular one is Facebook, where people I didn't know even remembered me are getting back in touch. For a social pariah, this gives you a warm fuzzy.
I decided to jot down the ones I could think of off my head, and this is what I came up with:
Become a fan on
Facebook
Become a follower on
Twitter
Plurk
Become a friend on
MySpace
Facebook
See what weird crap I listen to
Last.fm
In the interest of disclosure, I should point out that the Richard Marx song that is in the playlist played while I was away from my desk. So when you see that, it was just a pee break.
Now I marvel at some of my co-workers, who have legions of fans and followers, and I wonder how much time they're able to devote to sifting through all that stuff.
Fortunately, this is not something I am currently burdened with. But hope springs eternal, right?
I decided to jot down the ones I could think of off my head, and this is what I came up with:
Become a fan on
Become a follower on
Plurk
Become a friend on
MySpace
See what weird crap I listen to
Last.fm
In the interest of disclosure, I should point out that the Richard Marx song that is in the playlist played while I was away from my desk. So when you see that, it was just a pee break.
Now I marvel at some of my co-workers, who have legions of fans and followers, and I wonder how much time they're able to devote to sifting through all that stuff.
Fortunately, this is not something I am currently burdened with. But hope springs eternal, right?
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Monday, August 11, 2008
First day of school
I was happy to see my son looking forward to attending his first day of kindergarten. He's really jazzed about going to school, and I'd like that sentiment to last as long as possible.
If you check the picture below, you can see that he has inherited my inability to keep my eyes open for pictures. Apparently plaid is also hereditary; who knew?
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