Regular readers may remember the trouble Mike caused me at Valentine's Day.
I try to remember to get Katy a little something on the kids' birthday - after all, she's the one who did all the work that day. This year I went by See's to pick out a pound of hand-picked chocolates, staying within the prescribed boundaries she laid out for maximum candy enjoyment.
After the lady behind the counter finished helping me make my selections, she gave me a catalog to take home, saying "this way your wife can just circle the ones she likes!"
I laughed at this but went ahead and took the catalog anyway.
A week or so later I came home to find the catalog opened to the page with the individual candies. Several were circled. I guess that candy lady knew what she was talking about.
I've always been a big fan of The Cars. Shake It Up and Heartbeat City are two of my all-time favorite albums.
This summer "The New Cars" are touring with Todd Rundgren out front, replacing Ric Ocasek. Huh. Good luck, boys, but I'm not interested. As far as I'm concerned, Ric Ocasek:Cars::Jeff Lynne:Electric Light Orchestra.
Plus, without Benjamin Orr, who's going to sing "Drive?"
The other day there was a guy working on his laptop next to me on the train.
As I sat listening to my rockin' 80's tunes I couldn't help but glance over at his screen. After a couple peeks it was pretty clear that he was looking over a college application essay of some sort, probably for some scholarship.
So, I says to myself, he's checking his daughter's application essay. That's nice, good dad, I think to myself.
Then I notice him making a few edits. Hmm, okay, maybe he should let her do that, but okay, no big deal.
But then, all of a sudden, he's typing up complete paragraphs. Adding stuff about her (his?) extracurricular activities (Among them, "Cheerleaders Against Suicide." Not making that up.) and her (his?) desire to succeed in her (his?) chosen field. What the heck?
I have to say it really bothered me. If the text of the essay wasn't also completely fabricated, the young lady allegedly interested in the scholarship sounded well rounded and intelligent, and certainly capable of writing her own essay. So why is dad writing it? Hmm.
I chickened out on saying "I hope you get the scholarship" or "good luck with your second career as a physical therapist" to the guy. But it did make me think. How much of this sort of "soft fraud" do you think goes on? I bet there's a lot. I mean, who benefits the most from scholarships? The kid? Maybe, to a point. The parents? Absolutely.
I guess I just answered my own question.
I looked down at my cards last night at around 9:30 and saw something I'd never seen in my hand before - the 7, 8, 9, 10, and Jack of diamonds. Woot!
I've been playing poker semi-regularly for coming up on 20 years and this was my first natural straight flush. Granted, it came on a hand of Anaconda, a poker variant where what seems like half the deck passes through your hands, but I'll take what I can get.
Hopefully I won't have to wait another twenty years to see my second.
In an earlier post I talked about picking up a copy of the new Devo 2.0 album.
Last Friday I did just that. After listening to it a few times I wanted to share my thoughts.
(In the interests of disclosure I will point out that I work for the Walt Disney Company, who released this record.)
If you like Devo and you have young kids, you should get this record. The arrangements are a little different but absolutely familiar, and some of the cynicism and innuendo of the original lyrics have been replaced. I'm sure that many of The Faithful will chafe at these rewrites - and some of them are a bit silly - but they don't do any harm at all to the overall groove factor, which remains high.
Some of the changes? The two that spring to mind involve "Uncontrollable Urge" and "Jerkin' Back And Forth." The original "Uncontrollable Urge" was not about the uncontrollable urge to have a snack, and "Jerkin' Back And Forth" did not concern itself with a mere infectious groove. But to me, these changes amount to window dressing. Sure, it waters down the subversive message of the original material - but just how subversive a message did you want from your children's music? My kids are in first grade. There will be plenty of time for that stuff later.
And in the meantime, I'm thrilled to have some so-called kid's music that I can stand to listen to in the car.
When it comes to universities, what distinguishes hallowed institutions of higher learning from mere diploma mills? What single word sets the former apart from the latter?
"Accredited"
Let's face it - if you have a degree from a non-accredited school, you might as well just print up your diploma in Photoshop. Or so the accredited universities would have you believe. Most accredited schools go through frequent evaluations to maintain this status.
As this status seems to be core to the identity and mission of any university, you would think that the members of a university's independent accreditation committee would be compensated for participating in this critical work.
However, you might be surprised at the level of compensation offered. I have a friend who is serving on the accreditation committee for a large eastern state school. The job involves the review of a year's worth of faculty studies and reports - several three ring binders of paper - followed by a week of on-site meetings, culminating in the preparation of the committee's report.
For this effort he will receive - in addition to travel expenses - $50.
I'm not making this up.
I hate to be a curmudgeon and all, but "news sites posting April Fool's stories" has been done to death.
A good April Fool's joke needs to fool you - draw you in at least a little bit. Especially an online one. Reskinning slashdot.org with pink and changing the slogan to "OMG Ponies!!!" is not an April Fool's joke. It's just lazy.
The best April Fool's joke I have had pulled on me involved the stealth bomber. I used to work at a building that backed up to the runways at Burbank Airport. I was down on the shop floor and a couple of the guys told me that a stealth bomber had just landed at the airport. It seemed plausible enough, at the time they flew out of Edwards AFB, about 50 miles from Burbank.
They told me you could see it if you climbed up on some boxes in the back of the building. I scrambled up to the top as quickly as I could.
"I don't see it!"
"It's a little to the left."
"Nope, not seeing it."
"Over that way - they may have moved it behind that hanger."
So there I am, perched on a wobbly pile of wooden crates, up on tiptoes and craning my neck. They let me look around for a bit, while the knowing crowd gathered...
"April Fools!"
I had to hand it to them. They got me hook, line, and sinker. And that's the truth.