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Thoughts and Comments

An Underwater Scare

This past weekend, I completed six dives to receive my PADI Advanced Diver certification. I’ve been an Open Water diver since August of 2004, and a Nitrox diver since August of 2005, and finally decided to take the next step so that I can “officially” dive deeper spots without having to be escorted by an instructor or Dive Master.

Part of this set of dives was my first true night dive. I have done a couple of dives in the early evening, and one time with my friend Adam and his girlfriend Jeannette we did actually dive using lights as it got twilight-y, but never before in actual complete darkness. So at 8pm on Saturday, July 7th (lucky 7/7/07!), I’m out on the American Dream II, off on my first night dive. I’ve dove off the American Dream II before, and I’m comfortable with the boat, so all signs pointed to a good time.

The first dive, a 70 ft trip to the wreck of the Captain Ramon, was fun. It wasn’t completely dark, so it had a cool deep twilight vibe about it. Although we did use lights, strictly speaking they weren’t necessary. The only annoying thing about the dive was that I had a lot of trouble clearing my mask – it seem to keep filling up with water a lot faster than normal. I did not pay much attention to it at the time…

A little over an hour later, and now it’s pitch dark outside. Around 9:30 pm, I dive in again, this time for a true “in the dark” dive along the Barracuda Reef. I’m diving with a fellow named Chris, one of my classmates in this certification course – whom I had never met prior to this. And almost right away, my mask problem comes back. Water keeps filling up my mask. I clear it, it refills, I clear it, it refills… very annoying.

And to make matters worse, Chris and I keep getting further from the main group, because each time I clear my mask, I’m pausing in mid-water to push and fiddle with my mask, while of course holding my light and trying not to blind anyone else with it. Finally, I take the mask off completely, because I decided that I must’ve put it on wrong, or got one of the straps somehow under the sealing area. I straighten it out, put it back on… but no matter what I do, I can’t keep the water out of the mask.

By this point, my eyes were really stinging from the constant bath of salt water, and I really can’t see anyone else at all. And it is pitch black. And I am about 35 feet underwater. And I haven’t seen any of my gauges for the past 10 minutes, so I’m not 100% sure of my actual depth. لعبة اونو كام ورقة So I’m not 100% sure if it’s safe for me to ascend or not.

And at this point I realize that something must be truly wrong with my mask. I take it off and put it back on again, and this time water rushes in constantly – it will not clear for even a moment. The only thing I can see is the faint glow from the chemical light attached to my buddy’s tank. I wave my light at him, hoping he’ll get the message. The light moves closer, and I reach out until I can feel his tank – since I can’t see anything to speak of underwater and in the dark. I tap at my mask, make a slashing signal with my hands, and give the “thumbs up” signal meaning I have to ascend. Chris gets it, and we head up.

Luckily for me, even though Chris had no idea exactly what my problem was, he did get that I had a problem, and so he managed our ascent slowly and properly. When we surfaced, I explained the problem, and examined my mask. Holding my light up to it, I found that the glass front had ripped away from the plastic seal, leaving about a 1 inch gap at the top. Which explained why water kept rushing in. And why I could not clear it.

No one else from our group was visible. Chris told me that although he tried signaling, everyone else was swimming quickly and purposefully along the reef, and no one saw him. Another problem with diving in the dark that we hadn’t considered!

We spotted the boat about 200 yards away. Since it was not an “emergency” by any means, neither of us signaled to the boat. We inflated our BC’s (that’s “Buoyancy Control Device” or “the vest that fills up with air” for non-divers) and started back-stroking towards the boat.

At one point, Chris paused. “Was that you that just brushed my leg”? he said. “Uh…. probably”, I said. We both turned our lights back on. Neither of us said anything out loud, but I at least was thinking that while I’ve never been afraid of anything I’ve encountered while diving, it’s a very different matter when you’re swimming on the surface in the dark.

But we arrived at the boat without incident. I apologized to Chris for ruining his dive, and he made a joking comment that I was now destined to be “That Guy” who couldn’t complete the night dive and had to come back early. I said I’d gladly accept that label, as soon as my eyes stopped stinging. العاب كوتشينة لشخصين

About a half an hour later, everyone else returned. And of course, we had both missed some incredible night diving sights, including seeing some of the coral reef feeding in the dark. My instructor John complemented both of us on keeping our heads, and gave Chris props for acting like a proper dive buddy.

And that was pretty much that. Strangely, I was never really scared (well, OK, a little bit), but I sure was annoyed. I was never in any real danger, but I have to say that not being able to see while deep under water in the pitch dark is not an experience I care to repeat.

The next day, I bought a new mask and tossed the old one in the trash. Thankfully, the final 2 dives the next day were perfect, and I got to try my new mask out down to 110 feet (the wreck of the Rebel). And despite my scare of the night before, I was struck by why I love to scuba dive… there is something about the eerie beauty of a coral-encrusted shipwreck, deep beneath the oceans’ surface, that strikes my soul. The peace and serenity of life at 100 feet underwater cannot be beat.

After the deep wreck dive, we finished off the certification with an hour-long drift dive on Oakland Reef, where our naturalist Dive Master Andrew pointed out many interesting fauna, including a golden eel, snapping shrimp, sea stars, and a strange spider-looking creature with a blue cupola on the top.

When the boat docked, instructor John announced that we were all Advanced Divers now, and signed all the appropriate logs. I exchanged phone numbers and email addresses with my classmates, and loaded up the Mini with my tanks and gear. As I was closing up, someone parked next to me commented, “That’s mighty aggressive use of a Mini”, and I just smiled. “Yes, but it can take it”, I said.

I’ve resolved that I’ll go night diving again, and fairly soon too, so I don’t get “a thing” about it. I’ve told this story to a few people who don’t dive, and they are horrified when I describe the experience. But as I said, I was never in any danger, I never lost my wits, and the guy I was diving with did exactly the right things as well.

Having said that: You better believe I’ll check my mask very, very carefully from now on. فورمولا ون And – I think I’ll dive with a spare, just in case.

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Audio Visual

Heroes: Season 1 Finale

Heroes Season 1, NBC, 2006-2007.

I’ve written about Heroes before, late last year when I was fed up with Lost and ready to abandon it in favor of Heroes. Lost turned itself around when it returned to the air this spring, so it’s back in my good graces, but Heroes never fell – the show continued to improve, delivering on all of its promises, and ended the season with a slam dunk that resolved every active storyline… in addition to setting up a few new ones for next season.

Normally, I write my reviews assuming that the person in question either has already seen (or read) the work in question, or is reading the review with an eye towards watching (or reading) it regardless. In other words, I don’t concern myself with warning about spoilers.

However, in this case, I know for certain that at least some of my friends and readers (Don Norton and Frank Anderson, to name two specifically) have not seen any episodes of Heroes, but plan on watching the entire season on DVD when it comes out on August 28th. Therefore, I’m taking care to make sure that this review doesn’t give away anything important about the plot. So guys, read away, I will not spoil it for you.

This show is everything that a serial drama should be. Interesting and entertaining characters, a high-concept plot, a fast moving story. Whereas Lost is overly cerebral and sometimes drags almost completely to a halt, Heroes is bright and shiny and moves like a young racehorse. It’s good guys versus bad guys, just like a good comic book, only sometimes you’re not completely sure who is good and who is bad – also like a good comic book. Some characters get on your nerves, some you like right away. Some live and some die. Some grow on you as the story develops. Some that you wished would die at the beginning, you find yourself rooting for at the end. And vice versa.

Throughout the season, the story has been evolving and changing as we’ve been introduced to all the characters. For the first half of the season, we watched as it built up to Chapter Eleven, where we discovered what it would actually take to Save the Cheerleader. But what about Saving the World? Well, that’s what the rest of the season was about. And in doing so, we found out lots more about everyone involved, and the story wound tighter and tighter, as all the players were finally brought together for the conclusion.

Really, the last three episodes taken together comprise the end of the story, with the final episode providing the climatic moment that we’ve been preparing for since the very first episode. If you’re going to watch the season on DVD, I would highly recommend watching the final three episodes in one sitting. Think of it as a two-hour movie split up into three 42-minute parts. From all appearances, it seems to have been shot that way, and each episode in the final three continues immediately into the next.

This season closer was the only one I’ve seen that actually brought a tear to my eye. I felt the next-to-final scene – and the final sacrifice – was touching, well done, and fit perfectly with the tone of the series. Yes, we could argue about the practicality of it – surely all of those gathered could have figured some other, less drastic solution – but it worked. It fit the characters, it fit the story… damn it, it worked.

Both Frank and I were moved and pleased. We found out exactly why saving the cheerleader allowed them to save the world. The bad guys got what was coming to them (well, mostly) and the good guys saved the day (well… mostly).

And to cap it off, the episode ends with a credit: “End of Volume One”, and fades to black. And then? It fades up again, says “Volume Two”, and we’re given a teaser: the first two minutes of next season. I, for one, cannot wait.

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Audio Visual

American Idol: Season 6 Finale

American Idol Season 6, Fox, 2007. Winner Jordan Sparks.

Well, thank god that’s over with at long last.

The country’s cheesiest reality show wraps up another season. This one, as I have said before, was very clearly the worst ever. After watching the bloated and wrong-headed finale last week, I have now concluded that the reason Season 6 sucked so badly was not the contestants – it was the show itself. I blame the judges, and most of all, the producers.

Ten Minutes Too Long. Wake up, you morons. This is the age of TiVo. Since we got our first Tivo eight or nine years ago, I almost never watch a show in actual real time. Even if I watch it “at the same time” – as I almost always do with American Idol – I’m still anywhere from a half an hour to a full hour behind, due to dinner, bathroom breaks, phone calls, etc. So it wasn’t until about 10:45 that we caught up to the 10pm time on American Idol – and the recording simply ended, no winner yet announced. Frank and I were furious. After putting up with 2 hours of dreck, only to find that the show went over time by 10 minutes. We found out that Jordan won by watching the 11pm news (I didn’t want to check on the Internet, it seemed to go against the spirit of the thing).

I can understand how an actual awards show like The Academy Awards goes overtime – but American Idol? Puh-lease. For christ’s sake, they have exactly one thing to announce, and they have two hours to do it in. It should be trivial to have the program end on time. That’s why I’m pretty sure that Fox padded the show on purpose by an additional 10 minutes at the last minute. Why? I have no idea. My best guess would be it was an attempt to win the Nielsens for the 10pm hour as well. Or maybe they were actively trying to piss off DVR owners. If so, congratulations, Fox! You definitely succeeded in pissing me off.

Where Were the Finalists? Uh… guys? This show, it’s called “American Idol“. So how about, you know, showing us the frigging American Idol finalists once in a while? By my count (and of course I’m not counting the missing 10 minutes at the end), Blake Lewis and Jordan Sparks were on-screen for all of about 11 minutes during the entire 2 hour show. Each had one duet with a somewhat lame celebrity, and they did one duet together. I expect – and I am now formally demanding – a finale that is a celebration of all things Idol, with a smattering of celebrity guests here and there where and when they support the Idol contestants.

Celebrities with No Connection. Now, I forgave last season’s Prince performance because… well, because it was Prince. Last season, he was the only guest who performed solo, having no interaction with the Idols. But this time? That was the rule. Bette Midler, Tony Bennett – they just appeared and sang their songs. Gwen Stefani, who was not even at the event, “phoned in” a performance (which very frankly had all the earmarks of being pre-taped) from a concert stage somewhere else entirely. What the hell do any of these people or performances have to do with American Idol? At least Smokey Robinson, Gladys Knight, and Joe Perry actually performed on stage with appropriate matching Idol contestants.

The Golden Idol Awards. These were sad, pathetic, and squirm-inducing last year. It’s like shoving a few minutes of “The Office” in a light and frothy romantic comedy. It Does Not Work. Bringing clueless losers from the auditions on stage to give them fake “awards” is just plain uncomfortable, and takes away completely from the spirit of the evening. We’re here to celebrate the winners, not to engage in another round of schadenfreude from the auditions. I wish very much we had fast-forwarded through these segments… seeing these people the first time during the auditions was bad enough. Seeing them a second time, still clueless and now being openly mocked on live TV, was excruciating. And I cannot say enough times how wrong in tone this was for the whole event.

It Was Forty Years Ago Today… What was with the Sgt. Pepper’s thing? What the hell do The Beatles and/or Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band have to do with American Idol? The only thing I can figure is that Idol was able to use songs from the Beatles catalogue for the first time ever on this episode, so they decided to go for broke. Maybe when they paid for “I Saw Her Standing There” at the beginning, they got a two-fer if they paid for all the songs from Sgt. Pepper at the same time? That’s the only thing that I can figure. And if they had the rights to use Beatles songs, why on god’s green earth didn’t they use them during British Invasion Week earlier in the season?

Where Were the Judges? No interviews. No funny little skits. No “digital shorts”. Hardly a peep from them at all, other than a few “yo yo dogs” and “you’re all winners”. In years past, we’ve had mock rock videos, man on the street interviews, and many other opportunities for the judges to be seamlessly woven into the finale. This year… they just sat there and stared.

And All the Rest. Several mentions of the horrifying heinousitry (hat tip to Tim Graf for coining that term, by the way) that was Idol Gives Back, including bringing an African children’s choir on stage to sing (once again, by themselves, with nary an Idol contestant to be seen). 75-year-old Clive Davis rambling on and on about the “American Idol Franchise” and how much money it is making him and his partners, with a few snide jabs at Kelly Clarkson and Taylor Hicks thrown in for good measure.

All in all, this was a painful, bloated, and depressing affair. Which leads me to my conclusion…

Idol Resolutions for Next Year. Six years of devoted watching is enough. I will probably still watch American Idol next year, but I will no longer make it a “must see” event. I resolve the following:

  • I will skip all of the audition shows entirely. I’ll start watching once “Hollywood Week” begins. The auditions are painful, no longer funny, and stretch on for way too long. The first season, the auditions took up one week. Now, they take up an entire month. And the producers only show the bad “funny” auditions nowadays.
  • I will skip the finale. This season made it painfully clear that the days of the finale being the “ultimate Idol” are long gone. The last show I watch will be final performance episode. I’ll just watch the news to see the winner, which is apparently what Fox wanted me to do anyway.
  • I will fast-forward religiously.
  • I will not watch any Idol-themed charity events or charity announcements.
  • I will not vote for or cheer on any “bad” candidates solely for their humor value.

And so ends the worst season of American Idol yet, and the first of my 2007 Season End blog entries. Next up will be “Lost” and “Heroes“, both of which had excellent finales. Henderson… Out!

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Books

The Buried Book

The Buried Book (2006) by David Damrosch. Henry Holt and Company, 315 Pages.

An entertaining investigation into the discovery and mythology of The Epic of Gilgamesh, the oldest known literary work in the world.

The Epic of Gilgamesh is the prototype for many tales that have been written over the last five thousand years. In the eleven clay tablets upon which the epic is written, we find the first written story of a world-wide deluge, the rise and fall of a powerful king, a mother’s love and protection for her son, and the deep and abiding friendship between men that we refer to nowadays as “male bonding”. And that’s just touching upon a few aspects of the tale. In substantially reworked form, elements from Gilgamesh can be found in the works of Homer as well as in many books of the Bible.

The Buried Book takes us through the history of how the epic was discovered in the mid-1800s. This book is about evenly divided into two parts: The first part tells the story of the men who discovered and translated the clay tablets of Gilgamesh, and the second part is a lengthy analysis of the details of Gilgamesh, the real-life rulers of Assyria who stored it away, and its impact upon many subsequent works of literature.

I found the first part of the book to be much more interesting. Damrosch spent a great deal of time and effort researching the lives of the men who brought the epic back to life from its burial place. First we learn about George Smith, the genius who rose through a life of poverty to become the first man to translate the ancient cuneiform tablets comprising Gilgamesh in 1872. Rather than the normal dry history lesson, we find out all about Smith’s personality quirks, his wife and children, and even his intimate fears. Drawing upon a wealth of archival materials such as letters and notebooks, Damrosch details the life of a man that the world has long since forgotten. I found this fascinating and highly entertaining.

Next, we read about Hormuzd Rassam, the archeologist who actually unearthed the tablets themselves, along with a great deal of other ancient Assyrian and Babylonian artifacts. Rassam’s career spanned from the 1840’s to the end of the century, when his reputation was ruined by an ill-chosen lawsuit. In learning all about Rassam and how he discovered the Library of Ashurbanipal, King of Assyria, we also learn a great deal about the history and culture of Babylon, Assyria, and the country we now call “Iraq”. Once again, this history lesson is fascinating.

Personalities like Smith and Rassam simply do not exist any more. Can you imagine that in 1872 George Smith was a national hero — and a headline-making news celebrity — because he translated some 3000 year old clay tablets while working for the British Museum? Can you imagine such a thing making news headlines today? Nowadays, the discoveries of historians and scientists are buried deep in the newspaper in tiny print — if they are mentioned at all — while the news about celebutard Paris Hilton being sentenced to a month in jail makes the headlines. The world, and society, really was very different back then.

After I finished this book, it occurred to me that as a people, we seem to be trying very hard to forget everything we’ve learned about human culture and society over the past 150 years. Instead of learning from our mistakes, we’re repeating them, with even worse consequences than the first time around.

I doubt The Buried Book will make any bestseller lists — but it should. This well-written and compelling tale of history, mythology, and psychology deserves to be read by many. I submit to you that a story written down in clay tablets by a scribe, a story that lay buried for nearly 3000 years, still has an awful lot to tell us today, right here and now. Give it a try and see if I’m right… go unearth a copy of The Buried Book and see for yourself. Hey! Maybe Paris can read it while she’s in jail!

Categories
Audio Visual

Idiocracy

Idiocracy (2006). 84 minutes, 20th Century Fox. Directed by Mike Judge.

This is the smartest dumb comedy I have seen in ages.

When I wasn’t laughing, I was at least smiling real wide. I’d say this movie was brilliant if not for the fact that an awful lot of it is basically jokes about handjobs and blowing shit up… which, of course, is the whole point.

From the mind of Mike Judge – who brought us Beavis and Butthead, King of the Hill, and Office Space – this movie is basically a lowbrow comedy take on Cyril M. Kornbluth’s classic short story “The Marching Morons“. Thanks to the nonstop reproduction of the dumbest people on earth – while the smart people wait until later to have children, or don’t have children at all – each successive generation becomes less intelligent than the previous one. And so, in the distant future, the population has become so stupid that people don’t even know what you’re supposed to put on crops to make them grow.

The protagonist here is a completely average Joe named… Joe (Luke Wilson). As a subject in an Army experiment, Joe is placed into suspended animation for a “one year test”. His fellow subject is civilian female Rita (Maya Rudolph), who is partaking in the experiment in order to get away from her pimp for the one-year duration of the experiment. But, in a humorous twist of events, the experiment is forgotten, and Joe and Rita pass away the centuries in their suspension cocoons…

…until the Great Garbage Avalanche of 2505 drops their hibernation coffins back into the world, engaging the “unthaw” process automatically. After a series of discoveries, including a revealing tour through the penitentiary system of 26th century America, Joe (the most average man alive in our time) is revealed to be the smartest man in the world after taking an IQ test. (sample question: “If you have one bucket that holds two gallons, and another bucket that holds five gallons – how many buckets do you have?”)

Joe and Rita, having been told there is a time machine that can return them to their past, spend most of the film trying to find it. In the course of events, Joe solves the country’s food shortage (he tells them to stop irrigating plants with Gatorade and use water instead) and ends up bringing new life to the… idiocracy… of the future.

The brilliance of this movie is almost entirely in the set gags and jokes. Imagine a future populated only by the dumbest of the dumb, and that’s what Idiocracy depicts. “Fuddrucker’s” has become “Buttfucker’s”. The most popular show on television is called “Ow! My Balls!” and consists of a single character getting kicked in the nuts over and over. The President of the United States is the world wrestling champ, and also a porn star. Cabinet posts are filled by lottery. Congress is now the “House of Representin'”, and the President keeps order by blowing up things on stage.

A lot of the humor also comes from the fact that Joe and Rita are so much smarter than everyone else around them. Rita gets money from a horny guy by promising she’ll have sex with him “in a few days”, and that she charges by the hour – so the guy starts paying her immediately. Joe’s sidekick is an attorney, Frito (Dax Shepard), who got his law license from Costco. He’s dumber than a bag of rocks – and yet in this future, he’s considered pretty bright.

This is one of those movies that just doesn’t come across very well in the written word. You really have to see it to get the joke. Trust me, this is one very funny film. See it, laugh your ass off, and then pray to whatever God you believe in that the world never ends up like Idiocracy.

Categories
Books

Pushing Ice

Pushing Ice (2006) by Alastair Reynolds. Easton Press, 464 Pages.

This is a great “hard science fiction” novel that evokes the best works of Arthur C. Clarke.

I love it when I find an undiscovered gem on my shelves. I got this copy of Pushing Ice about a year ago through an Easton Press subscription, and stuck it up on a shelf to be perused later. And then I forgot all about it. A few weeks ago, during my decades-delayed library organization project, I came across the book and pulled off the shrink wrap. I read the description… it sounded interesting,… so I started reading it that night.

And couldn’t put it down. I stayed up until 3 in the morning three nights in a row. This is an extremely well-written, fast paced novel of space exploration and first alien contact that really moves. It’s very gripping, and each evening I just had to reach the end of the next “Part” of the book.

The novel starts in 2057 (hey! I would be 95 if I’m still alive by then!), aboard a comet-mining vessel. During a relatively routine comet capture and mining mission, they get an urgent message: One of the moons of Saturn has suddenly left its orbit and is accelerating at a rapid rate, leaving the solar system. As the closest ship, they are asked to drop their mining stake and rendezvous with the “moon”, which is now revealed to be a huge alien spaceship. The captain at first is reluctant; as she says, “We push ice. That’s what we do”. They’re unionized miners, not explorers.

But when a huge financial reward is dangled in front of them, the majority of the ship’s crew vote to chase after the speeding alien craft. And that’s the start of a wild ride. As the ship catches up with the alien vessel, they are caught in a field surrounding it, and are pulled along as the ship accelerates at a substantial fraction of the speed of light, heading for a star over 200 light years away. They have no choice but to go along and make the best they can of it. And so they must explore the alien ship that will serve as their home for many years, and figure out how to survive. But that’s just the beginning…

Unlike a lot of hard science fiction, I found that I cared about the actual people in the story. I shook my head over their poor decisions, mourned the deaths, and reveled as the true nature of the craft and its destination were revealed. I hesitate to characterize this as “space opera”, since everything that transpires in the story is grounded in real, actual science (the author is a former European Space Agency scientist), but it’s so grand and epic in scope that I don’t know how else to describe it.

It’s not a perfect novel. Bella, the captain, and her chief engineer Svetlana are the main characters. Best friends at the start of the novel, they become sworn enemies and worse as the story progresses. As much as I liked their characters, I just couldn’t buy the extreme choices they make by the end of the novel – especially the decision of Svetlana in regards to the “Musk Dogs” I get it: they’re arch enemies. But I found it extremely difficult to believe that Svetlana would do such an extreme thing, with such obvious terrible consequences for everyone, just because she’s on the outs with Bella. Her decision simply does not fit with the methodical nature of her character.

I also have to say that I find the plot and the characters extremely similar to Arthur C. Clarke‘s Rama II and its initial sequel, The Garden of Rama. The same storyline in regards to a huge alien vessel, and being trapped inside it as it leaves the solar system. The same character development of the female captain/leader being brought down by her crew, sentenced into a crippling exile, and then later being restored. The same “big reveal” at the end (well, that actually happened in Clarke’s final book of the series, Rama Revealed) with cosmic implications.

But “not perfect” is really the worst I can say. This really is a fantastic read, and well worth your time. I liked it so much I’m now going to be hunting down Reynold’s other books, in the hope that they will turn out to be as entertaining as Pushing Ice. If you enjoy science fiction that’s epic in scope and yet still has the ring of reality, check this one out. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.

Categories
Audio Visual Thoughts and Comments

Idol Gives Back Crap

Hoo boy. So, you know I’m an American Idol fan. I’ve watched the show since the very first episode of the very first season. But.

Words cannot express how utterly and absolutely I hated, loathed, and despised tonight’s episode of “American Idol“.

This season is definitely the worst of all six, by far. This crop of contestants is uninteresting in the extreme. But this week’s episodes – and especially tonight’s 2 hour charity telethon “no results” result show – were the worst of the worst season. This “Idol Gives Back” crap is just that. Crap. Pure and utter.

This reminds me of those uncomfortable times when I was a child, attending a matinee showing at the movie theatre… and before the movie would start, they’d show this little two minute film about a handicapped kid, and then the ushers would pass around these tin plates to gather money. I always resented this… hadn’t I just paid for the movie? I mean, if the theater wants to raise the ticket price by 5 cents and then donate that to charity, fine. But don’t make me feel guilty right before I’m about to watch “Destroy All Monsters!” Even at the age of 8 I thought this approach to charitable contributions stunk.

During last night’s extremely, extremely weak entry of “American Idol”, the Idols sang “inspirational” songs… mostly treacly garbage with one or two good songs thrown in. One (LaKisha Jones) actually sang an Idol finale song from a previous season… and those songs are the worst of the worst. Another (Blake Lewis) copied John Lennon‘s “Imagine“. It was torture. I actually wished very much that Sanjaya was still on to add some much needed entertainment value to these funereal proceedings. Ryan Seacrest actually said – with a straight face – that calling in to vote tonight “may be the most important call you make in your life”. Ho. Lee. Shit. I mean… really.

Remember those bad, bad “Very Special” episodes of Family Ties or Facts of Life that would air in the 80’s? The ones where somebody’s friend did drugs, or some kid was being abused by his parents, or some other heart-wrenching storyliine that felt totally out of place in a comedy? Remember how much you hated them? Remember how you’d make plans with your friends to do something else that night if the preview said “Tonight, on a Very Special episode of…” Well, tonight Ryan Seacrest said, and I quote, “In this Very Special American Idol…” I’m glad I had something bland for dinner, because it certainly would have come up.

That was plenty bad enough. But then they gave us tonight’s crap fest. This, the normal results show, stretched out to two hours while very, very sad “acts” performed on a separate stage in a separate auditorium, combined with green-screen pleas for money from a bunch of second-string celebrities. And at the very end of the show, Bono Christ pops in to give the Idols a three-minute pep talk. Yuck. Yuck. Yuck. The idols even wore all white so they we Get It that they are saints for giving us This Special Treat. Get it?

During the show, Seacrest kept repeating that tonight would be the most shocking results show of al! What was the shock? Oh, I bet you can’t guess. Yes, you got it:, Nobody went home. That’s right, they were all safe! Because it was a show for charity! And they couldn’t send somebody home on a charity show, now could they? (cue more shots of crying, starving children overlaid with the American Idol logo)

I want two hours of my life back. The only reason – the only reason – I sat through this utter and complete garbage was to find out which of the six contestants would be sent packing. I do not care, at all, for this “Oh gosh we’re so sweet we’re not sending anyone home” bullshit. Tivo couldn’t even help me out this time, since I was watching the show live.

American Idol, here me now and hear me good. You pull this crap again, I’m not coming back. Leave charity telethons to Jerry Lewis. This is supposed to be a vapid, voyeuristic, and purely entertaining talent show with no redeeming qualities whatsoever . Knock it off with the pretentiousness, kick someone off every week like you’re supposed to, and entertain me.

Categories
Politics Thoughts and Comments

The Wacky Florida Ferret Freak

We truly live in interesting times.

Thanks to my quick email to a popular blog, I’ve apparently become known as “that crazy guy in Florida who loves ferrets”. This is not an accolade I sought out, I can assure you. Certainly I love my ferret girls and am happy to have them as pets, but I’m far from being a crusader for ferret rights or anything like that. Nevertheless, that’s apparently how I’m being perceived.

Here’s what happened.

On Monday, I was reading Andrew Sullivan’s blog The Daily Dish, a site that I visit several times a day. Sullivan is one of my favorite bloggers, and I’m always interested to hear his take on daily events, as well as see what he’s linking to on any particular day. It so happens that yesterday, he had linked to an article about a poll in San Diego. The title of the link was “Gays vs. Ferrets?”

I followed the link to a rather silly article that summarized the results of the poll. Basically, it says that when surveyed about various topics, the residents of San Diego ranked “Gay Marriage” several percentage points above “Legalizing Ferret Ownership” (ferrets are illegal in California, as well as in Hawaii). The headline read “Gay Marriage now more popular than rodents”.

Those who know me know what a stickler I am about biological classifications and cladistics. What annoyed me about the article was the comment that ferrets are “rodents”, when they are quite clearly not. موقع المراهنات Ferrets are carnivores, members of the Mustelid family; taxonomically, they’re in between cats and dogs, perhaps a little closer to dogs than cats. لعبة مباشر Rodents are a completely and totally different class of animal.

In addition, I thought it was pretty funny that the article made it sound like they were actually pitting Gays against Ferrets, when in reality all they were doing was comparing the polling numbers of two completely unrelated questions.

So, I dashed off the following email to Andrew Sullivan on my lunch hour:

Dear Andrew,

Gays versus Ferrets? What am I supposed to do with this information? My partner and I own two ferrets, whom we refer to as “our fuzzy babies”, “the little munchkins”, or simply “The Girls”. Living in Florida, we are prevented from marrying or adopting – but at least they’re not taking our ferrets away from us!

If the poll was based on cuteness, I think my ferrets would probably win, however. You can see them here and judge for yourself. Sad that San Diego expresses its wisdom in endorsing gay marriage, but then displays its ignorance by continuing to ban ferrets.

And by the way, the headline of that article is completely wrong. Ferrets are not rodents, not even close. They are carnivores, same family as minks and raccoons. They’re directly related to both cats and dogs, biologically speaking. Ferrets posses the curiosity and resilience of a cat combined with the rambunctiousness and affection of a dog. They are perfect pets for a fastidious gay couple who like things neat, clean and orderly but who also enjoy a sloppy, furry kiss from an animal when they get home.

I thought it was pretty funny, and I was pleased with myself for coming up with the little double entendre at the end. I sent the email, and forgot all about it.

Until later in the day, when I visited Sullivan’s site again to check on the news… to find that he had quoted almost the entire message, and at that moment, it was the lead item on his web site. Well! I was pretty pleased.

Throughout the day, I got a variety of very nice comments from people who had followed Sullivan’s trackback link to my site, and read about our ferrets Sally and Freddie. To a person, they were all humorous and pleasant comments, including a number from fellow ferret owners.

But not everyone, it seems, felt the same way. Later in the day, I checked Sullivan’s blog again, and found that apparently I’d struck a raw nerve with at least a few people. Sullivan had now posted this message from a vocal ferret critic:

Pace your readers from Florida, ferrets cannot successfully be vaccinated against rabies, and have been recorded on multiple occasions to have gnawed the limbs of small babies, thinking the babies are appropriate prey. Ferrets as pets are illegal in 11 US states and in the City of New York. Several years ago, while I served as associate health commissioner of New York City, I was tasked with dealing with the loonies who styled themselves “Friends of Ferrets.”. David Dinkins’ administration quaked before these animal activists, doubting the wisdom of our orders to euthanize ferrets who had bitten humans. Thank God the Rudy became mayor and in one of his early acts, told the Friends of Ferrets where to put their filthy, smelly and dangerous pet rats.

Sheesh. What a nutball. Not a single true fact in that entire missive. And to top it off, there was that damn “rats/rodents” mixup again. Couldn’t this guy at least checked Wikipedia’s entry on ferrets? I wasn’t going to let it end on a note like that!

So I dashed off the following to Andrew Sullivan:

Dear Andrew,

Well, this debate certainly doesn’t belong on the pages of The Daily Dish, but I cannot be “Fox News’d” by a fellow reader without at least commenting. Feel free to forward this email on to your “associate health commissioner”, and I’ll be happy to carry on this conversation in a more appropriate forum.

Ferrets can’t be vaccinated against rabies? That will certainly come as news to any vet. Ferrets, just like dogs and cats, are vaccinated for rabies in a three-shot sequence during their first year. They’re also vaccinated against distemper at the same time. They are also spayed and neutered at the same age as cats.

Let’s at least get our numbers straight, shall we? Ferrets as pets are illegal in 2 states (California and Hawaii), not 11. In addition, a number of municipalities, such as New York City, have local laws preventing legal ownership of ferrets. Your reader comments on the well-known NYC ban, for example. This has mainly caused controversy because the rest of the state, as well as all surrounding areas, has no such ban – thus causing owners great hardship and consternation during moves.

Like any carnivorous pet, a mistreated or abused ferret can and will bite a human. There was one (and only one, despite urban myths to the contrary) case where a ferret was identified as the culprit in eating a baby’s finger – although New York animal control pointed out that the same household had five cats, three pit bulls, and several large snakes as well… so authorities questioned the automatic presumption that “the ferret did it”. That was the reason the animal was not euthanized in this case.

As far as mistaking a baby for “prey”, this baffles me… Ferrets have been domesticated as hunting animals (much for the same purpose as dachshunds) for thousands of years. They have no natural “prey” of any kind, although their ancestors ate mice and birds. Not much chance of confusing that with a human baby. Ours, for example, will eat nothing except for canned food, no matter what we offer. Our one-year-old nephews plays with both of them all the time, and everyone involved seems to enjoy it. Though my nephew has attempted to bite them several times, they have never bitten him in return. They do lick him a lot, however:



My nephew Ethan plays with Freddie and Sally last Thanksgiving

And then there is the concluding “filthy, smelly, dangerous pet rats” comment… if this (alleged) “associate health commissioner” cannot tell the difference between a rodent (rats, mice, etc) and a carnivorous animal (dogs, cats, ferrets, etc) then perhaps he should reconsider his chosen profession. In addition, ferrets, just like cats, are constantly grooming themselves, and I’ve never seen one with so much as a speck of dirt on it, much less one that could be described as “filthy”. In fact, a ferret will wash itself off in water if they get any type of “filth” on them.

I’m no animal nut; I don’t belong to any ferret group; and I don’t feel the need to beat anyone up over their choice of animal companionship. I’ve had dogs and cats, and I expect to have them again. We got our ferrets after our cat of 17 years died of old age, and we just couldn’t face getting another one just yet. Someone suggested a ferret as a “cross between a cat and a dog”, and it’s worked out well for us. If that’s not your thing, fine. But if someone doesn’t like them, at least say so in a clear and truthful manner. We get enough uninformed opinions in our politics. Can’t we at least talk simple truths when discussing the biological traits of our pets? لعبت بوكر

And so far, that’s it. I feel I did my part to defend my pets without (hopefully) sounding like a crazy person. And thanks to all the folks who visited my site this week due to the Florida Ferret Freak speaking out on The Daily Dish!

Categories
Technology

A Great Customer Service Story: My MacBook Repair

I love it when I can say something nice. This is a little story about a good customer service experience. I haven’t had one of those in quite a while.

A few months ago, I noticed my nice white MacBook was getting red stains on the wrist rest area. I tried cleaning it, but nothing would remove the stains. Over the next month, the stains got worse. I did some research, and discovered that this was a known problem with the initial batch of white MacBooks. Apple would repair them if you asked. However, since it didn’t affect the performance of the machine at all, and I didn’t want to be without it for the weeks that I knew it would take for a repair, I just let it go.

A few weeks ago, my coworker Adam also got a white MacBook. This started a round of pleasantries such as “It’s just like yours, Jonathan… only without the red stains all over the keypad.” After a few weeks of this good-natured ribbing – plus noticing that Adam’s MacBook was indeed glistening white in a way that mine no longer did – I finally decided to bite the bullet and get the repair work done.

Last Friday, I called Apple Care and explained my situation. I figured I’d have to pay for the repair, since it was, after all, purely cosmetic. I also figured I’d have to wade through four or five heavily accented “Customer Care Representatives” until I would finally be able to clearly explain that I just wanted to have a new, stain-resistant wrist pad installed. العاب مباشرة To my shock and surprise, the call was brief, clear, and to the point. Chris, who sounded like he was located in Canada, listened to my problem and immediately said “Yes, we’ll fix that, and it is under warranty. There won’t be any charge to you at all”.

Chris advised me to remove any memory I might have installed, to be sure to back up the hard drive completely, and to be ready to ship the computer in. He said they would send me an empty box with packing material and shipping labels, and I was to return the laptop in that package. مكان يورو 2022 I wrote down the case number, thanked Chris, and hung up. I figured it would be a while before anything happened.

Shock #1. DHL delivered an empty box with full packaging materials the very next day.

Shock #2. The box came with foam material that exactly fit my MacBook, and had a prepaid shipping label already attached. There were also clear instructions, and a document that explained it would take around 10 business days to repair the laptop.

I removed my 2 GB of RAM, put back in the original 512MB SIMMS, and after backing up my hard disk, I packed the laptop up in the box. Later in the day, I dropped off the box at a local DHL pickup place. لعبة الباصرة I figured I would check up in 2 or 3 weeks to see how the repair was going.

Shock #3. Tuesday, when I got home, there was a FedEx delivery notice on my door. I wasn’t expected anything from FedEx, but signed the slip anyway, and left it on my door. I wondered what I must’ve ordered that I had forgotten. It never crossed my mind that it could be my MacBook… not that fast… that would be flat-out impossible.

Shock #4. This morning, on a whim, I went to Apple’s web site and typed in my case number, just to see if the tracking information from DHL had perhaps been posted. Instead, I saw a status “Completed and Delivered”. I clicked on the details link, and saw the following: “Monday 3/5: Received. Monday 3/5 Repair Completed. Monday 3/5 Shipped to Customer. Tuesday 3/6 Attempted Delivery to Customer. Wednesday 3/7, package left on customer’s instruction on front porch. Case is closed“.

I could not believe it. How could they have received the computer, repaired it, and returned it to me all in a single day? No electronics company does anything like that! It’s unheard of!

Shock #5. I got home this evening and found my MacBook returned, with a brand-new internal keypad area, and the case completely cleaned. Not a scratch on it, and not a single problem. I put my memory back in, fired it up, and it’s like I just bought it.

Why…. why can’t all customer service be like this? Chris not only answered the phone pleasantly and in clear English, but he knew exactly how to solve my problem and wasted no time in getting me the shipping materials. Whoever received the computer at Apple fixed it and returned it via next-day air in a single day. All told, I was without my MacBook for a mere 4 days. At no charge at all to me. And at very little inconvenience.

Now, maybe, just maybe, it’s because this was only a cosmetic problem that everything went so smoothly. But I doubt it. At least for the foreseeable future, the only computers in this household will have an Apple somewhere on them, and will come in a box that says “Designed by Apple in California” on it. It’s not just that Apple makes better computers that run everyone else’s OSes in addition to their own… it’s not just that they look and feel so much nicer than the competition… it’s that it is very obvious that they care. A lot.

I, for one, appreciate it very much. Thanks, Chris in Canada. Thanks, Apple. Obviously, you know how to keep a customer.

Categories
Technology Thoughts and Comments

Things I Don’t Understand About Growing Old: Part I

I am 44 years old as of this writing, and will turn 45 in May of this year. Therefore I am officially “middle aged”, as I understand the term. I find myself studying my older friends, acquaintances, and relatives – as well as older strangers – wondering which of their elderly habits I’m going to pick up when I reach their age.

I’ve been meaning to write myself a series of notes for a long time, which I have been mentally calling “old age warnings to self”. Lately, however, I’ve begun to wonder if such warnings are useless. Are certain things inevitable as one ages? What don’t I know about growing old? Are old age changes constant throughout history, or are they distinctly cultural or generational in nature?

So rather than a series of warnings, I’m going to post these as a series of questions and observations. Perhaps, over the years, I will simply answer them myself as I age. Or, hopefully, other people can send in their answers and advice. I’ll consolidate the answers and advice for future editions of this same column. And we’ll see what we get.

Cars

Why do old people always drive huge, smooshy-riding cars? Is this a function of old age, pure and simple, or is it a cultural or generational thing that just happens to affect individuals in their 60s and 70s at this particular point in time? I’m talking about Lincoln Town Cars, Continentals, Cadillacs, and cars of that sort. These are always domestic vehicles, very long and very wide. Big engines in the front. Big wide seats front and back. Big ass trunks in back. And they drive like boats.

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The Lincoln Town Car: A Smooshy Drive

I’ve driven these cars numerous times, and I can’t stand them. The power steering is so dialed up that there is hardly any resistance or feedback – you can turn the wheel with your pinky. There is no feeling of actually steering the car at all. When you hit a bump, it’s like you’re driving on pillows – you kind of “smoosh” over it. They have huge turning radiuses; you can just about forget making a U-turn on any normal street. Their hoods are so long I feel like there’s another car in front of me. The air conditioning (or heating, depending on the weather) blasts out so powerfully that even the lowest setting blows my hair out of place. I can’t hear a thing outside of the car, and inside the car the turn signal is so loud I find myself looking for the volume setting somewhere on the dash. In short, I feel like I’m remote operating a simulation of a car in some test facility. It’s so cushioned and removed from the real world that I don’t feel like I’m actually driving.

I cannot see myself ever owning a car like this, no matter what. Frankly, I’d rather not drive at all than drive a car like that. And these cars are driven almost exclusively by people 65 and older. If I see a Lincoln Continental ahead of me on the freeway, I instantly think “old person”, and 90% of the time I am correct. Now, since I never see young people drive these cars, that means… what? That when you turn 65, your taste suddenly changes and you long for a smooshy riding car? Or is it simply that for people born in the 1920s to the 1940s, this type of car represents the ultimate ideal car, which they were finally only able to achieve in retirement?

Right now I drive a Mini Cooper S, which I’ve had modified to drive even tighter and harder than a standard issue Cooper S. Before that, I owned a series of BMW’s. The last domestic car I owned was a Ford Explorer, after which I resolved that I would never, ever buy an American made or designed car again.So, what will happen to me when I turn 65? Will I turn my back on tight suspension vehicles due to encroaching arthritis and osteoporosis in favor of a giant land boat? Or, being a child of the 1960s, will my cultural driving icon in retirement be something very different from that of today’s older folks?

Technology and Gadgets

I love technology. I anxiously latch on to each new gadget I can get my hands on the minute I can get my hands on it. Right now I’m still checking stores for a Wii, and looking forward to June when I can buy an iPhone. I upgrade my computer operating systems and applications the day a new release is available. I replace my computers on average every 18 months. I love learning new computer languages. I read everything I can about upcoming technologies and advances. I do everything I can electronically – banking, insurance, bills, communication, you name it. I’ve had my eyesight laser corrected. I look forward to the day when I can have my genes altered to remove things I don’t want and to add things I do want. In short, I am a technophile to the extreme.



I can’t wait! Will I feel the same way in my 70s?

My parents, on the other hand, live at the opposite end of this spectrum. My father, a retired petroleum engineer, has barely laid hands on a computer since he stopped working, and has no interest in doing so. Neither of my parents so much as uses a debit card – they still write checks by hand for almost every purchase. My father doesn’t trust computers, and actually deposits his checks by waiting in line at a physical bank. He gets cash by writing a check for it in the same manner. They keep their finances solely on handwritten paper.

My mother is a little better. She likes her email, and visits certain websites frequently. She is comfortable enough with modern life that she prints out her airplane boarding pass at home before leaving on a trip, and keeps track of her upcoming cruises on the company’s web site. She watches DVDs, uses a cell phone, and is mulling over the possibility of getting some sort of electronic organizer. But she depends on me (or other young folks in the family) to set these things up for her and to keep them maintained.

And their experience seems to be typical. Yes, there are exceptions – I’ve read lots of things online written by people well past retirement age, and I love Don To Earth, a fantastic blog written by a 93-year-old Nova Scotia scientist. But in my own personal experience, I don’t know anyone past the age of 65 who has any interest in much that is new.

So… will I hit a wall? Will there come a day when my mental desire for everything new simply comes to an end? Or am I a product of my generation, and will continue to embrace every new fangled thing that comes along? Is the technological reticence of today’s elderly a function of being raised in the 20s, 30s and 40s? Or is it just a simple fact of what happens as we get older? I don’t know – but I sure hope it doesn’t happen to me. I’m looking forward to subvocalized phone calls, neural implants, ocular enhancements, and anything and everything else that may come to pass in the time I’ve got left to live.

Music



Now, I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t listen to as much new music as I did when I was in my twenties. Sure. But still, I do my fair sure. Just in the past two years, I’ve discovered Death Cab for Cutie, My Chemical Romance, Green Day (well, re-discovered with American Idiot, in their case), Arctic Monkeys, and even Justin Timberlake. All of those albums blast out of my car stereo at full volume (playing on my 5th generation iPod plugged into my iPod ready Alpine car stereo, of course). I read the reviews both in print and on the web. I subscribe to emusic.com, a great service that lets you download un-DRM’d MP3 tracks of independent artists,. And I try to pay close attention to new music recommended by people whose tastes match mine. The incomparable Wil Wheaton is a great source for this.



Who will I line up to see in 2042?

I still don’t love rap or hip-hop, although I don’t out-and-out hate it like I used to. But then again, I’ve always hated country music, and still do. I consider that a genre preference, and not a time-based one. I’d like to think that I will always want to hear new music, and that I’m still going to be checking out the chart toppers in the 2040s and 2050s. Or am I kidding myself?

When I talk to someone in their 70s about music, I hear about the Andrews Sisters, or if they were really out there, Elvis Presley. They may have heard of current musical acts, but only by name because of their appearance on talk shows or gossip magazines. They don’t listen to any contemporary radio stations or buy any current music. My father repeatedly claims that he literally cannot understand the lyrics in “that rock and roll shit”, and that he does not even feel that it is “singing” at all. When pressed, some older acquaintances of mine will admit that one or two Beatle’s songs aren’t bad, like “Yesterday” and “Hey Jude“, but that’s as far as they’ll go.

So… will I be listening to Born to Run over and over in my 70s? When I’m 79, will I turn off the radio when anything recorded much past the 20th century comes on? Will I tell people that music from the 1980’s was as good as it gets, and it will never get better? Will I be unable to understand the lyrics to the #1 song of 2039? Will I have no clue what the latest music even sounds like when I go in for a DNA rejuvenation treatment in 2042?

Once again, I hope not. I’m sure as time goes on, I’ll have less room for new artists, and will certainly spend more time playing music I already know. But I can’t envision a time when I wouldn’t at least buy five or six new albums a year, minimum, and at the very least make sure I know what the current sound actually is. Am I wrong? Is this another case of advancing age changing my tastes? As my hearing deteriorates, will I become unable to discern the melody in newer musical styles, and thus turn away from them? Will my brain become unable to register pleasure from new tunes, and only provide me with rewarding endorphins when listening to old ones?

These are my questions. I hope I get the answers before I have to experience them firsthand.