Tag Archives: Humor

The Podcast – Episode 2

Hi all,

Episode 2 is now live on the Thoughts and Rants in Jogging Pants podcast. This one gets very ranty, especially near the end, so if profanity makes you uncomfortable, maybe skip this one 😉

I’m going to try to embed a player in here for next episode. I think it’s possible, but I couldn’t figure out how to do it just yet, and ran out of patience. I am pleased to announce that the Podcast is available almost everywhere you would normally get a podcast from, and this episode uploaded seamlessly, so we’re in good shape going forward. Those places are….

Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Podcast Index, Overcast, Amazon Music, Podcast Addict, Castro, Castbox, Podchaser, Pocket Casts, Deezer, Listen Notes, Player FM, Goodpods, Podfriend, and………

thoughtsandrantsinjoggingpants.buzzsprout.com


The PODCAST

Hi everybody,

I know I haven’t blogged in forever. There are reasons. Number one, I got tired of doing it. Number two, and perhaps more importantly, I decided to turn this into a podcast instead. Let’s face it. Reading is hard work, but listening is EASY. I still have ideas, and thoughts, and rants. I’ve been saving them for the right time. Is this the right time you ask?? No, five years ago was the right time, but that’s ok. Here I am!

I updated social media last night to boldly proclaim that my podcast would launch today on all platforms! Of course that shit didn’t work. I completely underestimated the complexities of the launch, which is totally on brand for me. I do expect this to be widely available on Apple Podcasts, Spotify et al, but maybe not today. The good news is, it did launch, and the better news is, you can get it here. As I’m typing, I’m confident that I will be able to embed the episode here (but I don’t actually know if it will work). The best part of this, is if it doesn’t work, I can just delete everything I have typed here. (Update…. Can’t seem to embed the episode….. bahhhhh…. click the link below to take you to the page.)

Before I go, I’d just like to thank the fans of Thoughts and Rants in Jogging Pants throughout the years. I know most of you are friends and family, but I did connect with a few people from the blogging community, and even though that was like 10 years ago, if this finds its way into your inbox from an old subscription, then thank you for your patronage, and check out my podcast!

https://thoughtsandrantsinjoggingpants.buzzsprout.com/


Construction Ducks

Is a story about two love birds, who returning north from wintering in some favorable climate, find each other and begin their courtship.  No online dating required.  Just good old Duck Talk pick up lines.  I mean they were probably flying when they met, what could you possibly say up there?

M – You’re hot

F – You look like you fly good

M – Wanna make babies?

F – You had me at ‘you’re hot’

Animal instincts take over, and they become a couple (actually animal instincts didn’t take over, they were probably running this scenario from jump).  It must have been so romantic they way they gazed into each other’s eyes the whole time, and completely overshot Lake Ontario.  Or perhaps they were looking for something a little more secluded.  Or perhaps he told her he had a private lake.  Probably that.  First body of water he sees that doesn’t look like it’s spoken for becomes the private lake.

F – Cool lake.  What’s with all the bulldozers?

M – Don’t worry about that baby.

So they made sweet love on their private lake, and began to build a nest.  Not a lot of options for nest locations.  This lake is a 5 or 6 day heat wave from not even being a lake anymore, it’s so small.  That doesn’t bother them at all.  They frolic around their little construction site lake, which is soon to suffer a fate, only foreman or contractor could predict.  They don’t need it that long.  How long does it take to make Duck Babies and teach them to fly?  Can’t be that long!

Almost every day I go to visit them.  Not only am I totally obsessed with their unique story, but I’ve been quarantining, and this is what qualifies as ‘getting out’ these days.  I haven’t seen them in a while.  I don’t know if the site didn’t work out, maybe too much construction noise.  Maybe they found a better spot.  Maybe they go out and grab dinner at around that time, because it’s usually 5pm, and everyone knows that Ducks eat dinner at around 5.  Maybe shit just didn’t work out between them.  After all, based on what I’ve said about them (and that’s all we have to go on), their relationship was kind of superficial.  My Duck friends will be in my thoughts literally every time I walk past their home.  I hope whatever has happened, it was for the best, and I wish my Duck friends well.  We’re not really friends though, I just visit them sometimes, and I like to quack at them, but they don’t really quack back, but it’s cool.

 

“Oh to be young, and to feel love’s keen sting!” – Professor Dumbledore

 


Elevator Chit-Chat

For those of us that get into an elevator frequently, there are decisions to be made daily that are perhaps a lot trickier than they look. What do you want your elevator game to be like? Do you want to be that sociable chatty person that acknowledges everyone, and perhaps engages in small talk? Would you rather stare at the door, (or if you’re lucky, some magical piece of information posted on a sheet inside that you can pretend to be really interested in) and be anti-social. Is one better than the other? What does your elevator game say about you as a person? I understand both sides.

My father was a supremely talented small-talker. He never missed an opportunity to engage in conversation with a complete stranger. He thrived on it, and I’m not playing favourites when I say I never saw anyone as good at it. The best part was that he gave no shits whether the person wanted to talk to him or not. It never entered his mind that someone wouldn’t want to talk to him, and he was absolutely charming enough to pull it off even with the toughest of crowds. You’d think the apple wouldn’t fall far from the tree. In a way it doesn’t. I totally CAN talk to strangers too, but when I get into an elevator I want nothing more than for it to be empty. If it’s not empty, I really enjoy walking into an elevator with people who are on their phones or not attempting to engage me in any way. If I can’t have either or those, I’ll take a head nod on the way in, awkward silence until we arrive at the floor, and a polite ‘have a good night’ on the way out. My last choice would be to have someone start chatting me up about something. Unless it’s them telling a quick (really entertaining) story, and me having to come up with a smile and a one-liner at the end, which I can tolerate.

I live on the 6th floor of a Condo building. I used to live on the 5th floor of a Condo building. Coincidence? No. When we picked the floors, I was thinking of two things. One, I’m afraid of heights, and if the shit really hit the fan, I’d like to know that I could tie some bed sheets together and shimmy down some balconies to safety. Two, I hate long elevator rides. Is it the length of the rides themselves that I hate? Or do I hate talking to people in the elevators? A little bit of both.

As a reader, you might be thinking, ‘hey, this guy has a blog, he has lots to say…. why doesn’t he want to talk?’. I do want to talk. Just not to strangers on an elevator. It’s OK though, I tolerate it. There’s one thing I can’t tolerate though (and if you were wondering what prompted me to write this blog, here we go), and that’s someone who starts a conversation in an elevator that they themselves are not interested in. What? Does that actually happen, and more importantly why would it happen? Yes it happens. I don’t know why. It mystifies me, but it does happen periodically, and I can only think that perhaps some people just feel like they SHOULD engage in chit-chat every time they’re in the elevator. Maybe they think it’s impolite not to, or it makes them better people. All of which is fine, but I had a guy the other day start chatting with me, and then when it was my turn to talk, COMPLETELY lost interest in the conversation. Buddy, first of all, I had NO interest in talking to you to begin with, and now here I am, scrambling to say something interesting about the weather, and you’re fading on me???? I live on the 6th floor!!!!!!! It wasn’t a long ride. Focus or fuck off!

To summarize, I think the world has all kinds of people in it. Different people have different elevator etiquette, and that’s OK. I don’t judge anyone, but all I ask is commit to it. You wanna avoid the social awkwardness of neighborly small talk? Me too. You wanna be a Chatty McChattster? Be true to yourself, and annoy all the introverts. BUT…….if you’re gonna try to chat, you better be ready to talk and listen. If I have to take my brain off auto-pilot to have a conversation with you, then finish what you started!


Did I Accidentally Train a Jedi Master?

My son is in Kindergarten. He got to go to his first ‘new-school-friend-birthday party’ today. I got to go as well. Yay for me. There was coffee, pizza and wasps. I enjoyed two thirds of that. This isn’t about me though. Or maybe it is. The party was pretty awesome all things considered, because it was a ‘Star Wars’ themed gathering. My son is pretty into Star Wars (and everything else), and I was too at his age, and I’m old, so I think it’s remarkable that Star Wars is still as relevant today as it was then. Who could have guessed? Neither Farrah Fawcett nor Lee Majors would have guessed that shit.

My son probably became obsessed with Star Wars at the age of 2. He loved Darth Vader. He used to tell me he was my father, like all the time, and he hadn’t even seen the movie, like I have no idea how he knew that line. He was pretty into Stormtroopers as well, but seemed to have no love for Luke Skywalker, and when I was 4, I was all about Luke Skywalker. I was very ‘good over evil’, but it was the 80’s and this is a different time. That said I was a little concerned how drawn to the dark side of the force my son was at such a young age. He seemed a bit like the type that would love to crush the rebellion in one fell swoop (see, I thought it was foul, but I didn’t know whether to spell it foul or fowl, so I googled it, and they were like ‘ACTUALLY…… it was originally FELL’, but that doesn’t sound as good because people I’m sure have been using ‘foul’ for ages now, perhaps in error, and I’m so committed to the line that I’ll just leave it as is, but with an explanation……or I can edit it later, and you’ll never know we had this conversation.) So we would have these light saber duels. He always wanted to do it. They kept getting bigger, and sometimes they weren’t even light sabers, but swords (toy swords of course), or baseball bats, or anything he could pick up and hand me, and he’d say “Let’s fight Daddy”. So we would duel, and he would put on his Darth Vader mask, and hit each other’s swords while he tried to intimidate me by saying all sorts of menacing things in his freaky little bad guy voice. If I had to do it over again I probably should have laid down and played dead at some point so he would think he won, but screw that, man. I’m not letting him win. He thinks he’s just going to defeat me in a battle and then take over the household, no way. So we’ve had a lot of sword fights in the past couple of years. His hand skills are well-developed for a toddler I think.

So today…… a couple of ‘characters’ showed up at this birthday party. The first was a Jedi Master. He was going to train these kids to become Jedi, and had them running and jumping and doing obstacle courses. Parents stood around making awkward conversations with other parents they had just met, but we all nodding in approval like ‘yeah these suckers are gonna sleep tonight!!!’ Then there was light saber training, where each kid would pick up a fake light saber and hit this guy’s light saber a few times. I knew my son would get a kick out of that. Then a guy dressed as Darth Vader came in, and the kids were super excited, and it was a really great kids party I thought. Then….. before the food, but just after Darth Vader had come in, the Jedi Master decides the kids should pit off against one another in light saber battles, and the winner was going to get a prize. Ughhhhh. Before I could get to my son to read him the riot act, he was paired off (with the birthday boy no less) for the first fight. It all happened so fast, like one of those early Mike Tyson fights. Like in the original Star Wars movie, my son was Darth Vader and this kid was the old version of Obi-Wan Kenobi. My son went in on this kid, and I just remember screaming “Not his head, not his head”, and then the kid started crying (maybe more from my screaming than any actual pain… they were fake light sabers), and then my son started crying because his friend was crying….. it was emotional. I was kind of embarrassed, but the birthday boy wasn’t hurt, and moved on pretty quickly, somehow won the prize (which was either always intended for the birthday boy, or given to him out of sympathy.)

It all got smoothed over quickly and we all enjoyed the rest of the party. Soon it was like it never happened, but in the car I could tell my son felt bad about it, and I thought it was a good teaching moment, but then I had to quickly figure out what I wanted the lesson to be. Be gentle?? I guess, but he was ASKED to engage in a light saber battle, and the winner was offered a prize. He tried his hardest to do what he was told to do, and I can’t really fault him for that. I did try to remind him that I’m 5 times his size, so when he hits me with a light saber, it doesn’t do as much damage as when he hits some 40 pound kid, so am I telling him to play down to his competition? Like not try his hardest when competing against someone who isn’t as good (by good I mean specifically at light saber fighting) as him? If he plays sports and he doesn’t try his best because he thinks the other team isn’t good, that will drive me nuts, so I don’t think that’s the lesson. For the purpose of this blog, I’ll say the lesson is ‘Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should’, but I don’t know if a 4-year old can grasp that or not, so I just said ‘keep the light saber away from his head next time.’


A Message To The Soap Dish Manufacturer

I have 2 soap dishes in my condo. One in each shower. Is it still even called a soap dish? Or if it’s installed into the wall like mine, is it now called something else? That’s not actually what I wanted to ask. Let me give some background. I have 2 soap dishes in my condo. One in each shower. Are they fairly attractive and seemingly well installed? Yes. I have no complaints about that. You being the manufacturer wouldn’t have installed them, but rest easy…. I’m sure they were done properly. Really, overall, other than one small detail, I’ve been pretty happy with these soap dishes. They sit there nicely, they don’t rust, and they’ve never fallen apart. I’ll say that much. It really seems like a quality product, other than one very minute detail…… the soap slides off the dish…. every single time. Not occasionally. Not regularly. Always. Slides right off that fucking dish, and if I’m not careful, onto my foot. Not the bottom of my foot that is already suitably punished from standing on my feet for 40 hours a week and playing basketball 2 of those nights as well. It slides off and lands on the top part of my foot which has all those small bones going across with no muscle or fat to protect them. It fuckin hurts when the soap lands on my foot.

Now here’s the thing….. Maybe you figured nobody uses actual bars of soap anymore. I would say that as a soap dish manufacturer, you had to at least respect the fact that some people still did. You didn’t start installing liquid soap containers in my shower, so I’m guessing that bars of soap is still a thing. So how did you think that manufacturing a soap dish which esthetically pleasing as I promise you it is, is fucking angled to let a piece of soap fall off into the shower, and quite possibly onto a vulnerable part of people’s feet?

I try to be a laid back non-judgemental type, but periodically things like this get me upset, and I think I know the reason why this situation in particular is troublesome. Why? Because you had ONE FUCKING JOB! It was to create a soap dish that would provide a safe place for my soap to sit. One function! That’s it! It’s not a Smart-Soap Dish! You can’t check your emails and watch fucking YouTube on it! It’s the old school kind of soap dish that does nothing, and I do mean nothing, other than housing my soap. Not to beleaguer the point, but a soap dish which cannot seem to contain soap is about as useful as a toenail on your shoulder-blade.

I thought I’d spend the last paragraph giving you advice, but who am I kidding? You’ve probably got way more money that I do. You sold these useless fucking things to a builder that put them in every unit in this building, so who am I to sit on my high horse and talk about quality? You’re a quality salesperson if nothing else. You’ve probably made enough money to retire, and I’m busting my ass every day with a bruises on the tops of my feet, so what do I know? That’s the kind of world it is now. The guy who used to decide every week which celebrity ran a shittier fictitious company, is now the leader of the free world, so you should be able to slanty soap dish your way to the top too. I don’t really wish any ill on you because that’s not my style, but if I do find out that you died because you fell in the shower, my first instinct will be to laugh.


How Blogging Is (Nothing) Like Jogging

Blogging and jogging have a lot in common. They also have many differences. That could be said about anything and everything, but anything and everything don’t rhyme. Blogging and jogging have ogging in common. I’ve decided to explore how these two activities are intertwined after I voted down the whole New Year’s ‘I’m gonna blog more often in the new year’ bullshit. I’m smart enough, and honest enough to know that’s not true. Let’s explore jogging and blogging in point form…..

– Jogging doesn’t require jogging pants, but jogging pants are named after the activity of jogging, so if you wore jogging pants while jogging, people wouldn’t look at you funny at all. While blogging, I wear jogging pants periodically, and my blog is also named after jogging pants which is named after jogging, so don’t tell me these are unrelated topics. Little known fact about yours truly???? I seldom wear jogging pants, when jogging or blogging, but don’t tell anyone. I’ve branded myself as someone who wears jogging pants while blogging, and if you tell someone that I actually don’t, I’ll deny it.

– When jogging (I assume…. I don’t fucking jog) sometimes you finish your run, and feel really good about what you’ve accomplished, and that gets you on the right track to enjoying the rest of your day. Other times I would imagine you probably want to quit halfway through and eat a hamburger, and quitting is the only thing that will make you happy, but if you decide to not quit, and see it through to the end, it’s just miserable times until it’s finally over. When blogging, it’s an absolute joy from beginning to end about 15% of the time. The rest of the time you have to grind it out. The difference is I can actually eat a hamburger halfway through, and it doesn’t physically stop me from finishing, but the beef fat that gets into my bloodstream and travels up to my brain makes it challenging to finish, so sometimes I take a nap.

– Joggers will tell you that the act of jogging keeps them in good shape and is great for their physical well-being. Bloggers will tell you that the act of blogging is great exercise for their creativity. Joggers probably won’t tell you that the impact is slowly killing their knees, and bloggers won’t tell you that typing makes them sleepy, and they’d rather be napping.

– Sometimes Nike will do television commercials where people are leading unrealistically awesome lives because they jog at 5 in the morning or torture their body in some other awful way, because they gotta ‘just do it’. Nike doesn’t do blogging commercials because blogging doesn’t sell footwear. I’ve contacted Nike, and offered to wear their jogging pants while I blog. They haven’t responded yet. I think coffee companies could use bloggers in their commercials. Bloggers drink coffee with the best of them. Just picture a commercial where the blogger hits the publish button, and then takes a sip of coffee while all the comments and likes fill up in their inbox while they laugh diabolically. In reality, most of us get about half a dozen likes and maybe one comment from the same supportive relative over and over. Half of these bloggers would way rather hang out in a Starbucks and pretend it’s their living room/office rather than brew their own coffee.

– Jogging is sweaty. Blogging is sweaty if it’s summer and you don’t have A/C. Or if you’ve just been sitting there way too long with no ideas, and your body is rejecting all your bodily fluids, hoping you’ll give this up already, and move onto something more awesome like napping.

– Jogging really sucks when the weather isn’t nice. Hardcore joggers will jog regardless of the weather. Blogging is the opposite in that it really sucks when it’s nice out, and you’d rather be outside. Hardcore bloggers will still blog when they should go out. Blogging is the best when it’s shitty out. Crappy weather, some good ideas, and free time is the ultimate blogging trifecta, and for the 2 days a year that happens, man can I ever write!!!!

– Blogging about jogging is boring. It’s a shitty topic. Blogging about blogging is boring too. I’m guilty of the latter sometimes. Hopefully blogging about jogging and blogging together has not been boring. Either way, I’m going to have a nap.


Time To Re-Boot My Life??

Man…. Hollywood man…. Is it the worst thing going on right now? No. The world has worse problems than this. I am a little sickened by the lack of originality in the movie theatres these days though. If it’s not a comic book movie, or one of the many unneccessary sequels from a movie that there should have been just one of (they call them franchises), it’s a re-boot. What is a re-boot? I’m no expert. If you’re computer isn’t working, you can turn it off and on again, and hope the problem goes away. That’s the only way I know how to fix a computer. I believe the term for that is re-boot. In computer terms it could mean taking something that isn’t working, starting it over, and hoping to God that it works. In Hollywood, it means taking something that already is working, starting it over, and hoping to God that it works. It works a lot of the time. Like singing a cover of an insanely popular song. It’s the low hanging fruit of the entertainment business. I get mad. Then I take a breath and remember that I don’t really care. In reality, most of the movies I watch these days are either Lego or Pixar, and I do so in my pyjamas while half sleeping, and half watching a toddler. So re-boot away, losers. Who am I to tell people not to make money?

Then I got thinking about my life, and what if I could re-boot that??? Now that’s got potential. Not everyone knows the whole story, so it could just be a sleeper hit. First and most important thing in a re-boot is what young actor could I give the role of a lifetime to? Someone handsome, that’s for sure. The re-boot has to be more visually appealing than the original. Has anyone ever asked you the question who would play you in a movie? I always want to pick some really handsome leading man, but I’m afraid it would probably have to be a very quirky character actor if I have to be honest. Someone on the Hollywood A-list though, because you don’t half ass a re-boot.

Oh, just think of the way CGI could clean up some of those early scenes. I definitely want a lot of montages. Those are my favourite parts of movies. The more cliché, the better. I’m definitely a big fan of the nerd scene, where a guy sits in a room with like 17 computer screens and is furiously typing things out and figuring out formulas while chewing on a pencil and choking down bad coffee so he can pull the all-nighter, so he can get that assignment done/send a guy into space/save the world or whatever he’s doing. There also has to be a spot in that office space where he would sleep if he wasn’t so gacked on caffeine. I’m just brainstorming here. (In case you’re wondering, in the original movie, I just sleep peacefully and blow the deadline.)

I think in the re-boot I should be a really confident ladies man. It’s a choice between playing up the awkwardness, or being super-cool. I feel like the real movie was somewhere in-between, but in-between doesn’t play well in Hollywood, and I don’t want to make myself dweebie. This is my re-boot, and I want some creative control. I’m going super-cool. It’s decided. I’m also losing the beer gut. The guy that plays me is gonna be ripped. Should I have a motorcycle? Tattoos? Yeah I think so, plus I’ll be way better at sports. We’ll definitely have sports montages. Plus cool night club scenes, where I’m dressed to kill and having sophisticated conversations in VIP, not like the real movie where I was drunk in the middle of the dance floor, covered in sweat, getting mad at the DJ when he played songs I didn’t like, and trying to convince people to leave so we could eat Chinese Food.

Plus we need to add more tension. I don’t really have the qualities of a compelling leading man. I don’t think I’m tortured enough. Not enough confrontation in the original film. We need some fight scenes. Or at least an action scene or two, and my favourite ones involve people with no training getting into absurd car chases, or being chased by a bunch of hitmen, and narrowly escaping, because even though they’ve never been in a situation like that, they are JUST THAT GOOD!!

Then again, there is a certain charm to the original story. It was a wild ride for the ages, but it felt just like getting up every day and living. Not trying to pay myself a weird compliment (or maybe I am), but you could search the IMDB database, and there will never be another me, and the same can be said for all of the unique characters in this story. So if I had the chance to re-boot it, would I? Not in a million years. But…….. as in Hollywood, everyone has a price, so if you write the right number on a piece of paper and pass it to me, anything is possible 🙂 I’m just kidding. Sort of.


Clothe Your Babies For Fuck Sakes

I hate parenting blogs, but I have a blog, and outside of working and sleeping I pretty much spend the majority of my time parenting. So if the entries are sparse these days, that’s why. Found my self suitably irritated the other day at the park. It was a warm summer day, and I saw this mother playing with her (I’m guessing) 2-year-old daughter. The daughter is chaos, as most 2-year-olds are, and is wearing only a diaper and a shirt. I see this a lot. Parents thinking that diapers are suitable pants or shorts. I have an opinion on this. You know what it is if you’ve read the title. I just can’t come up with an acceptable reason for why you couldn’t put proper clothes on a kid if you were going out somewhere. I did try though. I don’t like being judgy. It’s not my place. It’s just one of those stupid things that eats away at me. The following paragraphs explore some of the ideas that went through my head surrounding this.

Let’s start with the kid at the park. Was it warm? Yes. Hot even. A hot summer’s day. Would the argument have been that it was too hot for pants or shorts? I’m certain it was. Parents don’t usually admit to laziness, so I’m guessing if I confronted this lady, she’s gonna cop to the overheated baby argument. My kid owns shorts that are so thin, that you can barely feel them on. Plus they are great at protecting that vulnerable baby thigh area from harmful UV rays, burning hot playground slides, and those annoying wood chips that playground architects think are so important to have, but serve absolutely no purpose whatsoever. So to that argument I say put some shorts on your kid.

Is it the money? Hey, I understand if you can’t afford clothes for your toddler……. sort of. I’m speaking for the 1st world of course, but if you know where to shop, and aren’t super picky, a pair of shorts for a toddler can often be found for less than the price of a Big Mac combo, and you know that’s true.

Have you never seen a baby blast a liquidy shit out of the side of their diaper before? Why would you tempt fate like that? I know there are parents that do this in their own homes. Just let the kid run around in their diaper. Doesn’t seem as bad when you’re not going anywhere, but do you really want shit on your carpet? I know it doesn’t happen often, but who knows when that kid’s digestive system is going to take a day off……throw some pants or shorts on the kid, and you’ve got an extra layer of protection. Maybe their little knees won’t get as scuffed up when they crawl around or fall down.

Is it a laundry issue? Bullshit. Do you know how insignificant a pair of toddler shorts is in a full load of laundry? “Oh they’re just going to get their pants dirty anyways….” That’s like not driving a car because you’ll eventually run out of gas. It’s true, but it’s a stupid reason not to do it.

Most importantly as a parent, it’s our responsibility to make decisions for our kids until their old enough to make their own decisions. Going forward I would like to see all mothers who don’t put pants on their babies before bringing them to the park, actually come to the park in just their underwear. Am I trying to create pervy situations with some cheap thrills for all park goers? No, I just think that if you aren’t a hypocrite, this is what you should do, because you have your baby/toddler who has no choice in the matter, going out in the equivalent.

Lastly, please don’t tell me it’s a difficult thing to do. While I would have confidently written this blog even if I didn’t have kids, I have one, and he leaves the home fully clothed every day. Yeah we all have a lot on our plate, but putting a pair of shorts on my son is one of the easiest things I do all day. Unless he’s holding a toy gun and trying to engage me in combat, but even then, it still gets done.


Ready For Life In 4K? Me Neither

I’m in a hotel room watching a 4K TV for maybe the second time in my life. At least I think that’s what it’s called. It’s an ultra high-definition TV set. I can say that much. What do I normally watch? Who knows? My wife knows, but she’s crashed out on the couch, and I’m not waking her up to ask. Let’s just say its high-definition. Maybe just not ‘ultra’ high definition. Anyone who will read this will range between knowing what the fuck I’m talking about and not knowing what the fuck I’m talking about, and consider me a part of the latter. All I know is that this TV is blowing my mind, as I’m sure it’s supposed to. Like when we first saw HD quality, or Blu-Ray, or colour TV instead of black and white, or black and white when we had only heard the radio. I look at this TV, and I don’t even think real life looks that clear. I could be mistaken, or maybe I need glasses, but I just don’t think that if I was looking at the same thing from the same distance right beside the TV, that the real life equivalent would be as clear. So mission accomplished, and mind blown.

Now how do I feel about this two beers into my evening? I don’t know. It’s impressive. Sometimes I ask the age-old question about whether we put the same effort into salvaging the planet, that we do into blowing our minds with new tech, would the world be a better place or not, but then people just give me dirty looks and call me a hater (which is the weirdest thing to say to someone who asks that question, but that’s what I usually get). Having 4K around isn’t hurting me, other than the odd sensation like ‘whoa, was that guy just there??? Oh wait, I’m only watching TV.’ Is it helping?

Here’s the thing. When I’m watching TV, I don’t really care what the front lawn looks like 7 houses down from the one I’m supposed to be looking at. I mean sure it’s nice to see someone’s hair standing up on the back of their neck during an intense moment, but if there are lice bugs clinging to the end of those hairs, I don’t need to know. If I’m watching Baseball, it’s disturbing that I know how many days of facial hair the beer guy has grown, that’s just too much detail. Like if someone holds up a newspaper in a scene, I think it’s pretty cool to be able to read a couple of other headlines, other than the one you’re intended to look at………but NOT THE FINE PRINT!!!! NOT THE FINE PRINT!!!! IT’S NUTS TO BE ABLE TO READ THE FINE PRINT…..FROM MY COUCH……I CAN’T EVEN READ THE FINE PRINT ON A PAPER HELD UP TO MY FACE……IT’S TOO MUCH!!! Ok calm down. It’s not that serious. Go buy one. It’s great. I say I won’t get one, but there’ll come a day when we just won’t be able to strain our eyes to watch anything else, and then there’ll come another day when 4K will be a steaming pile of shit compared to the new thing they invent tomorrow, so whatever.