Super Duper Grab Bag No. 4

It's time for another miscellaneous collection of stuff I feel like sharing with you, otherwise known as a U by C Grab Bag.

First, let's do a few lists. Lists are fun, right?

Six famous nerds, in order of net worth (by my estimates)
1. Bill Gates
2. Orville Redenbacher
3. Pee-Wee Herman
4. David Byrne
5. Stephen Hawking
6. Fred Rogers

Nerds from the above list who are billionaires
1. Bill Gates

Those with severe physical handicaps and brilliant minds
1. Stephen Hawking

Those who were members of one of my favorite 80s bands
1. David Byrne

Those who were once arrested for public lewdness in a movie theater
1. Pee-Wee Herman

Those suspected of being a woman dressed as a man
1. Orville Redenbacher

Grab bag posts I've made on this blog, in chronological order
1. Grab Bag No. 1
2. Grab Bag No. 2
3. Grab Bag No. 3
4. This one

Eleven animals that have bitten, stung or pinched me
1. Dog
2. Cat
3. Mosquito
4. Tick
5. Ant
6. Ferret
7. Goose
8. Honey bee
9. Hornet
10. Hermit crab
11. Caleb (my son)

Five animals that have not
1. Elephant
2. Kangaroo
3. Snake
4. Jellyfish
5. Lobster

Six animals I've accidentally run over with a car
1. Dog
2. Cat
3. Duck
4. Snake
5. Frog
6. Skunk

Six animals I've never run over, as far as I know
1. Elephant
2. Kangaroo
3. Jellyfish
4. Penguin
5. Dolphin
6. Moose

Animals that Dave Barry and I agree would make a really funny necktie
1. Weasel

...

Now, something that happened to me today that made me go, "Huh?!"

I work on a military installation, so I have to show my ID to a sentry to get through the gate each day. Usually, he or she will check the ID, hand it back, and say something like, "Have a nice day," or maybe, "Drive carefully."

This morning, the guy who checked me was a Senior Airman (E4), which means he's probably been in the Air Force for 3 or 4 years. He looked to be about 23 years old, give or take 2 years. So imagine my surprise when he told me...

"Stay out of trouble."

I wanted to say, "Squeeze me? Bakingpowder? Whatdyoujustsay???" I don't dye my hair gray. I have four kids and a mortgage. I do not have sleeve tatoos. I was driving a KIA MINIVAN, for cryin' out loud, and it was 6:45 AM on a Sunday! I wonder what exactly I was giving off in my aura that made him think I might be looking for trouble. I can count on one finger the number of speeding tickets I've gotten in my whole life. I've never had so much as a sip of beer. I guess sometimes people just say things like that for lack of a better comment. But it made me flash back to the time a sweet young lady about half my age called me "hun".

I'm really glad he didn't open the rear hatch and discover all those dead prostitutes and bags of cocaine.

...

And finally, something George Carlin said:

"In this era of 'maxi,' 'mega,' and 'meta,' you know what we don't have anymore? 'Super-duper.' I miss that."

I do too. I like to call things super, if they really are. This is something I have in common with the four year old boss and offspring of Katia, a really smart, funny lady transplanted from Israel to Toronto, who writes a blog called IAMTHEMILK.

While I like "super," I see no need for "superb." What does adding the b at the end do? Nothing, as far as I can tell. It still just means super, so I think this is a word we can do without.

Heaps of Beeps

Howzit, folks? Since I just gave you a Stuff Caleb Sez, let's now do an entry in Stuff George Carlin Said. Because I like to keep things balanced, and also because I never get tired of G.C.

"Everything beeps now."

As usual, he's right. When I was a kid, we didn't have many things in our house that beeped. There was one phone, it was stuck to the wall, and it rang with an actual bell. You know, a round metal thing inside being struck by a tiny hammer. To make a call, you had to literally dial the number. Zip-zip-ziiiiip! 

Want to change the TV channel? You had to walk across the room and turn a big mechanical knob. (The choices were 2, 4, 5, 7, and 11, plus a few UHF stations that usually didn't play anything interesting.) We called it tuning in a station, and it was slightly less trouble than tuning a piano. Even though it only had a 17" screen, the TV itself was about the size and weight of a Smart car.

We were one of the first families I knew to get a microwave oven. It was an Amana Radarange, and it didn't beep. Like our TV and our telephone, it had... wait for it... yep, big round dials to set the cook time, plus a few clunky mechanical buttons for "Start," "Stop," and "Light." It made our food hot, and nobody ever struggled with how to program it.

But things changed, and several years ago, almost everything in the house beeped. Some things beeped when we pushed their buttons, other things beeped to get our attention so we'd know when it was time to wake up or when our toast was done. And don't forget beepers. They beeped too!

Nowadays, most devices have been replaced by the smart phone. It's a camera, video camera, video game, GPS, calculator (and scientific calculator!), TV, alarm clock, remote control, flashlight, Rolodex, and even a phone. And it beeps a lot. I still have a separate electric shaver, because as far as I can tell, they haven't made an app for that yet. I checked into the Motorola Razr, but that turned out to be a very misleading product name.

I wonder what George would have said about smart phones.

I Need to Clear My Head

I'd like to catch up on a few miscellaneous things today, but I promise to soon return to the English lessons. <sarcasm> Because I'm sure everyone enjoys those! </sarcasm> (I know a little HTML.)

First, let's update one of my favorite features here at U by C, Stuff Caleb Sez! Here is something that recently came from Boy Wonder:

[By the way, this whole conversation started after he told me his strategy for winning a level in Angry Birds Star Wars, which he was playing at the time. I said it wouldn't work and suggested another approach. He went with his idea, and it worked. He won--the game and our dispute.]

Caleb: Dad, you know why kids are sometimes smarter than adults?

Me: Ah, what?!

Caleb: I said, do you know why kids are smarter than adults?

Me: Ummm, no. I don't think they are.

Caleb: Dad, they are. Sometimes. You know why?

Me: No, I don't know why, because I don't think kids are smarter.

Caleb: Well, they are. Sometimes.

... and as soon as I left the room, he mumbled, "And by sometimes I mean all the time."

Five minutes later, he tried again.

Caleb: Dad, kids are smarter than adults. I know they are, so don't say it's not true.

Me: Okay, fine. What's your point?

Caleb: You want to know why?

Me: Yes. Please tell me why kids are smarter.

Caleb: Because adults know so much stuff, there's no room left in their brains. But kids have lots of room in their brains to think of smart things.

I hate to admit it, but he may be onto something. I've got decades of useless knowledge cluttering the recesses of my cranium, making it difficult to think clearly and come up with innovative solutions to, say, a video game involving light saber-wielding birds and pigs dressed up as stormtroopers. His mind is an empty slate, leaving him free to devise the best trajectory when launching those little digital birds... and to form an argument like the one he just gave.

...

By the way, I've been updating the other pages here, easily navigated using those tabs at the top of the page. Mainly, I've been adding pictures to the pics page, but if you haven't checked the Bozo List lately, there might be some new-to-you updates there too. I'll add some more books to the books page soon. Man, am I productive, or what?

Hey, one more thing. Leave a comment, whydontcha?

Grab Bag No. 3: I'm Part of the Atari Generation

I've been writing a weekly grab bag post consistently every three weeks, give or take two...


Which means it's time for another. The topic of this one is video games, but it's a short one because I'm not really what you'd call a "gamer."


- I had Columbus day off from work, and Mrs. Christensen and I spontaneously decided some of that free time should be used to get the band back together. By "the band" I mean Rock Band, our family's favorite use for the PlayStation. We searched the house but could not find two pieces necessary to make the drums work, and the guitar was not in great shape either. What to do? Simple! Go out and buy all new instruments. We now have a better guitar, wireless drums, and a new microphone to boot! (They come as a set.) It's great to be an adult. Kids and teens have to save for months or beg Santa Claus for something like this. We just had to reassign a hundred bucks from the grocery budget. (Maybe it was the car insurance; I'm not sure.) DON'T JUDGE ME!


- While at the game store, I took a few minutes to browse the used discs and spotted a cheap copy of Lego Star Wars. We picked it up for our boy, Caleb, and it's a huge hit! This is a video game based on a toy that's based on a movie... I want a T-shirt with this game on it!


- George Carlin once said that violence on television only affects kids whose parents act like television characters. I tend to believe this theory, and I'd like to apply it to video games as well, but have you seen what goes on in some of those games? Shocking. There's a big debate over this topic, and a lot of research is being done. I side with those who believe games are more harmful than TV to young minds because you are an active participant in the game; you don't just watch it, you interact with it.


- I was thinking about the old Pong console we had 30-something years ago, which we hooked up to our 13" black and white TV. I wonder how much that unit would bring on eBay today? No doubt several times what it cost new. (I can still picture its simulated wood grain housing and big mechanical switches and dials. They just don't make 'em like that anymore.) I recall being just as entertained by it as by the Atari 2600, the Super Mario Bros. on NES, and every increasingly sophisticated game that followed, up to this day. In another 20 years when we have holodecks in our houses, I doubt I'll find them much better than any of these. Marshall McLuhan's claim that "the medium is the message" holds true here. A video game is a video game... they're all fundamentally the same as each other, and different from all books, movies, etc.


That's all for now. If you need me, I'll be rocking out. Or maybe stacking Tetris blocks.


...




Love my blog but want more cowbell? Wish I would fall into an abyss, or at least throw my laptop in? Feel I should have chosen 12 pt. Arial instead of 14 pt. Verdana? Comment below! I’m not a mind reader.

These Bloodthirsty Girls are Getting Way Too Friendly

This morning I got a call from a nice young lady named Ashley or Brittney or something, I don’t remember. She works for the American Red Cross, in their vampire division.

I occasionally give some of my blood to these folks. I think the last time I did so was about a year ago. I know… I have more than I need, I can make the stuff without even trying, and it’s just plain selfish for me to hoard it… Leave me alone already! I don’t like being poked with needles. Soon I’ll probably capitulate to my social conscience and donate again, but this must happen on my own terms. In my defense, I’d note that I’ve never made a withdrawal from their bank, so I should have a positive balance, although I don’t get statements from them to verify that.

You just feel a little sting...
Like what you'd get from a giant robot bee with a 2" long steel stinger.

The trouble is, they have my contact info. I give it to them every time I donate, thinking it’s required. You know, in case they get back to the lab and find my blood is infected with some horrible, deadly virus. I’d kinda like them to pass that info along. It occurs to me that the Red Cross is the only entity, besides my wife, to ever succeed in getting both my phone number and some body fluids from me. No, I take that back. The Air Force got both, and a lot more. But I’m not in the habit of giving either of these things out to strangers. I’d like that to go on record.

So now, every time the supply runs low, Hailey or Jessica or Amber calls or sends an email to ask if I’ll stop in and give a pint. My wife has it easy. They don’t want her blood, because it’s potentially (she insists I include that modifier) infected with mad cow disease. You live in England for two years in the early ‘90s, and you get a lifelong exemption from donating. It’s like wearing a wreath of garlic cloves around your neck.

Here’s the part that made me go, “Um… WHAT?!” Crystal or somebody calls this morning around 9:00, and I’m still in bed because I work swing shift and sleep in late. In my semi-coherent state I explain that no, I cannot come in tomorrow to let them drain me. My schedule is full. (This is true… not that I wouldn’t invent an excuse if necessary.) So she says, and this is an exact quote, “Okay, hun. Thanks anyway. We’ll catch you next time.” Hun? Did she just call me “Hun?” I’m sure I heard right and she said “Hun.” She sounds 19 years old, give or take three years. I’m thirty-eleven. I’ve been married 16 years. I have four kids, a mortgage, and a minivan, forpetesake. She’s barely old enough to vote, and I’m overdue for my midlife crisis.

If you are a waitress named Flo who recently celebrated the birth of her first grandchild, and you’re serving coffee to a slightly younger truck driver in an all-night diner, and he’s a regular there… then it is okay for you to address him as “Hun.” I don’t think Tiffany has earned that right with me. I only wish I’d had the presence of mind to reply, “Alright, babe. Call back anytime.” My mental agility must have been impeded by morning weariness and the thought of getting stabbed in the arm.

Me 2.0

I’m taking this college course on computer technologies for professional and technical writing. (Yeah, and they have courses on stuff like history of rock and roll. Who's the sucker?) Our first assignment is to browse some books on Web 2.0, just to gain basic familiarity. I say to myself, “Self, I wasn’t even aware they came out with a new update. We should definitely install it on our laptop, because the original web was pretty nifty, so version two should be dynamite!” Allow me to go back and explain a little of my history…

For about three seconds in the early 1980’s I was up to speed on computers. I hung out with some tech-savvy kids. I could hold my own in a conversation on the latest hardware and software, and I could actually use both to nearly their full potential. Over the next decade my computer skills stagnated as the technology rushed forward like a bullet train. I was left standing at the station, and by the time Al Gore became Vice President, I was clueless. I could no more sit in front of a computer and make it do what I wanted than fly to the moon by flapping my arms. I’ve spent the time since then trying to catch up, but I’ve always been two steps behind and about as capable as an average 5^th grader. (On some things, more like a below-average one who has to stay after class to get extra help.) I mean, I’ve figured out how to work Word and Excel, how to find what I need on the web (version 1.0) and how to use email. I’m not stupid, just stunted.

So I open a book called Fundamentals of Web 2.0 (an electronic, online edition), and the first thing I learn is that there was no big revision to the internet. The 2.0 is a term someone coined for social networking, which, until recently, I thought was only used by high school kids looking for new ways to spread gossip and consulting firms trying to make a buck with their expertise in... ah, social networking. Apparently, there’s more to it than that, and if I don’t get on board I’ll soon be left even farther behind.

Hence, this thing you’re reading right now. That is, if you didn’t fall asleep two paragraphs ago. If you’re still with me, I’m sure you’ll enjoy future posts on how I’ve learned to Tweet about getting my Facebook LinkedIn to my blog.

Copyright 2011 by W.W. Norton & Company

         

From Charlotte Temple

by Susanna Rowson. 

This is NOT what they mean by "Social Networking," but it's about as close as I ever came until recently.