TV break-up (part 2 - the sound of silence)

I don't know how long I've been without TV, but I suspect it has been at least a few months. My condo (a.k.a. shite apt-style condo that is worth about $34 now, thank you housing market) is filled less often with wasted time, and more often with the sound of silence. I do find myself being a bit more productive, and there are less distractions to disturb Mrs. Robinson and I when she comes to visit.

This is not to say that I don't miss Cesar (you can give me season 3 on DVD for my b-day in a few weeks), reruns of Scrubs, or Blue Planet, but I have learned to cope. If you've ever quit an addiction cold turkey, you know that the experience can be really... strange. Unless you were addicted to heroin and hookers, that is, because depriving oneself of such healthy morsels of ecstasy is just plain foolish.

If you think I'm a tree-hugging, stinky hippy who eats tree bark and thinks all technology is evil, then you are mistaken. You are also mistaken if you think I'm one of those white-haired conservatives that blames professional wrestling and video games for all the world's violent tendencies. All that I'm searching for is balance. TV was an unbalancing force in my life, so I did what I had to do.

If you're an "average adult household," you're watching television for about 4 hours a day, 1 whole day each week, 2 full months each year, and 1 entire year out of every 6 in your lifetime. You may have trouble sleeping. If you're young, you may be increasing your chances of developing attention disorders or learning difficulties, and have a front-row seat to the spectacle that is our increasingly materialistic society.

If you sense a strain in your relationship with your sexy TV, as I had, then give this cancellation idea a try. Worst case scenario is that you end up re-signing up for cable a month later, and get that low introductory rate again. You can also DVR your shows, too.

Or, just get some HD rabbit ears, as I might end up doing. You know, just in case the world is about to end (this is awesome, just click the link) I'd like to be able to watch it burn from all angles.

TV break-up (part 1, heartache)

Do I need TV? Do you need TV? What does cable television add to your life? Do you love TV? If you could, would you marry TV and have lots of odd-shaped, HD-ready babies?

I grew up with a TV in my bedroom, and a video game controller in my eager little hands. I was not one of those lazy Dorito-hording monsters, but it is safe to say that I developed some very nasty habits in my younger years. When I grew up (got older), the TV would be on when I got home from class or work. I would watch while I was eating, resting, cleaning, cooking, whatever... it was almost always on. My TV developed a personality, and SHE was my companion, my rock, we shared many special moments together, I... loved my TV (hang on, I'm tearing up a bit... OK), she was always there for me.

Making-out with her was difficult, but doable, just as long as I remembered to unplug her first. And she was sexy, you should have seen her when she was new. She was a smoking hot 36x24x36, with huge (picture) tubes and plenty of high-def ports for me to plug my peripherals into.

I am sad to report, though, that my reliable, loving friend and I had a falling out. After deep thought and consideration earlier this year, I broke up with her. It was difficult, and painful, but I felt that it was just something that I had to do. I was changing, growing up, and all she ever wanted to do was stay home and watch movies or play video games. I wanted to write more, travel more, become a better photographer, and simply allow myself to be in my own thoughts more, without her trying to distract me with her incessant chatter. I tried to explain my feelings to her. I tried to let her down easy, but she just didn't seem to understand. So, finally, I just did it; I made a phone call, and then I disconnected her cable.

Just like that, it was over.

Her lifeless body still resides in my living room, which is slightly creepy late at night, but she's too damn heavy to move (and I can't play Donkey Konga without her). So she remains, in a quieter, more peaceful state.

Could you do it?

You disappoint me

I am very disappointed. This time I'm giving you no pictures, no links, and no videos. It's just you and me, and I'm pissed off.

A trend is beginning to dominate our society, and we are all a part of it. This trend is so disappointing and annoying to me, that I'm actually ready to start fighting against it. This blog entry is step one in my plan of action (when I figure out wtf step 2 is, I'll let you know).

The trend that I speak of is demonstrated by all of the people who toss cigarettes out of their car windows. It is cultivated and perpetuated in our school classrooms at all levels of education. It is practiced with precision by our elected officials. The trend is gaining in popularity, and it spreads like a deadly disease. I am talking about the trend away from accountability, and towards indifference, laziness and finger-pointing. I could right a dissertation on this topic, but I want you to read on, so I'll do my best to keep it relatively short.

Allow me to quickly illustrate a few selected examples of this trend:

1. Smokers: I don't care if you smoke. Go right ahead. I don't mind that you put an unnecessary strain on our already taxed health care system, or that you don't have enough self-respect to care for your own body. I don't even mind that you aggravate my asthma anytime I want to go out at night (topic for another day). It's a free country. Do what you must. All that I ask, is that you don't f#@ing throw your nasty, used, stink-ass cigarette butts onto MY roads and sidewalks. If, however, you still insist on doing it, please allow me encourage you to throw all of your trash out of your window. If you're going to be lazy, then at least take some pride in it... quit half-assing and do it right.
2. Students: I don't care if you cheat. If you're smart enough to get away with it without getting caught, then let me be the first to congratulate you. Besides, you'll either grow out of it, or it'll come back to bite you in the ass when you least expect it. Either way, it doesn't bother me none. What I do care about, however, are those insignificant, disrespectful, ungrateful little bastards who get caught, then accuse their teachers of lying, or of being unfair. You just, don't, get it. My dad was a teacher, my mother is a teacher, I work with teachers all day long. I will spare you the appalling stories in the spirit of time, but take my word for it, kids are becoming more selfish and righteous than they have ever been, and it's ruining many good teacher's will to teach. It's hard to blame the kids, though, because those issues start at home. Parents, I'm disappointed in you. Administrators, I'm also disappointed in you for not backing your teachers and for being afraid of the parents. Enough is enough. Punish the bad kids, and pay your teachers more money. Shit.
   
3. Elected Officials 1: Let us start with former-prez Mr. Clinton. You did good things for this country. I liked you. Don't for one second, though, believe that I couldn't tell you were lying from day 1 of your scandal. The most powerful man in the world (maybe), should never, ever be allowed to argue with me about the definition of "is." If you had just admitted to what you did, you probably would have been re-elected, and spared this country from the living tragedy who is... (see #5).
4. Elected Officials 2: Ah, how can I pass up the chance to mention our broad-shouldered, well-spoken, delusional Mayor of Detroit. Positive things are happening in the city, and I appreciate your contributions, Mr. Kilpatrick. You have made mistakes, though, and you have not, for one damn second, held yourself accountable. On the contrary, you are condescending and repeatedly insult my intelligence with your refusal to admit and take responsibility for your actions. Not only do you not admit to your mistakes, you blame others for them, and drain funding from an already economically troubled city budget. How is it possible, that you have spent your life in Detroit, yet you do not understand how forgiving your neighbors and colleagues can be? Your failure to understand your own people will ultimately complete your professional downfall.
5. Elected Officials 3: GWB. No real explanation is necessary for him anymore. We all know the story. He is Babe Ruth, Wayne Gretzky, MLK, JFK, The Beatles, and the Godfather. He is the greatest ever. No one will ever approach his uncanny ability to completely lose touch with reality while also spinning lies into truths (in his own mind).
   

So, why do we do these things? Why do we support others who do these things? Have we lost all respect for ourselves and our neighbors? Have we become so self-absorbed, that we can no longer see the reality of our actions? Is it the economy's fault? Are we afraid of something? Are there Aliens shooting invisible waves of brainwashing electricity into our fragile minds, so that we destroy ourselves and allow them to colonize our planet?

I think the answer is simple. We do these things because we can. We are a mob. We are lemmings. I would need to do some real research to find the underlying cause for the trend, but I suspect that it's far more complicated that I can imagine or attempt to explain in a blog. I do, however, know the solution.

You are the solution. I am the solution.

Hold yourself accountable for your own actions. When you make a mistake, admit it, learn from it, and move on. When others around you make mistakes, hold them accountable. Individuals, particularly those who believe in something, have the power to affect change. Don't re-elect laziness, and don't make excuses for anyone. Spread the word, cure the disease. We are not defined by our accomplishments in life, we are defined by the actions that we take when faced with adversity.

I apologize for preaching at you, and I realize that my argument is incomplete, but you'll forgive me for it.

And finally, I leave you with my favorite quote. Its origins aren't easy to track down, but I believe an ancient Greek philospher named Seneca uttered the words: "Don't tell me what you believe, show me what you do and I'll know what you believe."

Laughter Yoga (yes, really)

You don't laugh enough. I'm sorry to be the one to break the bad news. You only laugh about 15 times each day. Children, who are infinitely more happy than you are, laugh about 400 times a day. There is hope, though, and I am here to help.

Laughter is beneficial to all body systems. It reduces stress, strengthens your immune system, alleviates depression, increases blood flow, and helps to fight disease. Oh and it also makes your penis or breasts bigger (maybe probably).

Here, give it a try...

• We like tha moon --"Tha moon is very useful everyone." Who new that spider monkeys could sing and play guitar? This is my favorite internet video. Ever. By far. No Internet video will ever approach its brilliance.
• How not to stomp grapes -- "I think she's actually hurt." Yeah, ya think? With her attitude, though, she deserved the face plant that she received. I especially enjoy the demonic noises that spew from her fat face as she's laying in a crumpled heap of pain.
• This baby needs an exorcism -- For those of you who find really cute (I think creepy) babies to be funny, here is the standard to which all others are measured.
• No one "looks good" when they trip -- I'm with the anchorman, watching that young lady crash and burn twice in 10 feet or runway deserves laughter-induced tears.
  
• Indian Superman -- Since when are Superman and Spider Woman friends? They're not even in the same comic universe (DC, Marvel). In India, though, there are no rules. And the special effects are stunning.

And, last but certainly not least, is a craze sweep the world... no, SAVING the world. It is, of course, Laughter Yoga. Don't ask me, I'm just giving you the link, do with it what you will.

Now it's your turn to make me laugh...

Pecha Kucha comes to D-Town

What are you doing on Thursday evening? Yeah, that's what I thought, you "don't know."
Well, now you know. You're going here, to Pecha Kucha Night.
New things are good. See you there.

UPDATED:

Pecha-Kucha (pronounced peh-chak-cha) is a Japanese word which means "the sound of conversation." You can learn the details of the event's origin here. It was the first of its kind in Detroit, and the turn out was good enough to overwhelm Atwater Brewery. Who stops serving food at 8pm when the place is packed, anyway?!

The premise was simple, each presenter shows 20 slides, each displayed for 20 seconds each, and they narrate along with the images. Simple, concise and very effective, I believe. A few of the presenters showed off some really amazing work, and rubbing elbows with creatives is always a good time to me.

There's another event being planned for November 25th (venue tbd), see you there, yes?

Black Finn... tastes like chicken

It’s 9am on Sunday morning (holy shit, I must be missing church, bummer), my hair looks like a science experiment gone horribly wrong, and my eyes look like a cut from Ben Stein’s Visine commercial. Bueller... Bueller... Bueller. Well, Bueller spent Saturday evening at the new “it” bar in Royal Oak, the Black Finn Restaurant and Saloon, and he can’t wait to share.

I should preface this unofficial review by saying that I had already made my judgment of the bar weeks earlier, when I had accidentally walked by on a Thursday night at about 9pm, and witnessed an entry line already stretching down the block. One could see the glitter in the girls’ outfits and the grease in the guys’ hair from the other side of Main.

Ah, hell, I’ll just come right out and say it. Trendy joints have a habit of annoying the shit out of me.

I’ll break it down for all parties involved:

• Trendy guys, get off your imaginary, macho, high fucking horse. Your macho behavior is nothing more than a cover-up for the fact that you’re afraid of everyone seeing who you really are (a scared little girl who is afraid to cry). You live in a constant state of denial. College is over, and no one cares about how far you can throw a football. Oh, and one more thing, standing against the wall and staring at a girl’s ass on the dance floor for more than 2 songs does not give you the right to grind your junk on her when she’s not looking. You give guys like me a bad name.
  
• Trendy ladies, let me tell you that your make-up job isn’t fooling anyone. Spend a little less time at the salon and a little more time forming a few original thoughts. And do me a favor, close your legs and quit the whining about how you can “never find a good guy.” If you really wanted to meet a good guy, you would. Here’s a little hint, put out the type of energy that you want to attract. It’s that simple. Write that down so you don’t forget.
• Trendy bathroom attendant, please shut your mouth for 5 seconds. Being condescending and being witty are not the same thing. If you don’t know what condescending means, walk over to the bookstore and look it up.
  
• Trendy wait staff, you need to stop pushing people out of the way. I know the place is packed, and I know you’re stressed out, but no one forced you take this job, so suck it up and show a little more class.
• Trendy new bar, your floor plan sucks. Your main bar is too big, your foot-paths are too narrow, and your dance floor is in the middle of the goddamn walkway to the bathroom. I mean, seriously, who designed you?! And, it’s the middle of the summer, how can your ventilation from the poison air be so poor?!
• Trendy DJ, I am going to kill you if I hear Brown Eyed Girl, one, more, time.

Strangely enough, it is still very possible to have a good time at Black Finn. In fact, I had a good time. It wasn’t easy, but I did. The drinks weren’t too overpriced, and they must have had at least 30 bartenders rolling about. The TV’s are fancy and plentiful, and I’ve heard that the food served during normal business hours is actually quite good.

When given a choice, though, I prefer to occupy my Saturday nights with a bit more substance and flavor.

Read this first

There are too many blogs in existence today. There are blogs about cupcakes. There are blogs written for cats, by cats. There are even blogs about blogging. Your mom has a blog and she’s not telling you. Blogs are the new underground regime, and their leaders are living in caves right now, near your neighborhood, secretly plotting world domination. If you don’t yet have a blog, you will, just give it time. I have a blog. This is it. It’s my first blog. It’s called “30s in progress.” The title is a bit generic for my own tastes but it’s a work in progress. I will evolve and the blog will follow.

I am living in an extraordinary period of my life. If you’re reading this, then you probably are, too. It is the period that begins in our mid-twenties and ends when we either die, or buy a minivan. No longer are other people telling us where to be and what to do. We now have full ownership over our own decisions… and our mistakes. We have control of our lives, but most of us have no idea what in the hell we should do with that control. I have no idea what I’m doing, other than keeping in motion, and remaining in progress.

I created this blog because the aforementioned period of my life has lead to the development of a very serious and personal problem for me, and I needed a remedy. My problem is that thoughts, observations, and (hopefully original) ideas leak from my brain at high speeds at all hours of the day, and I cannot make it stop. This blog will be my net, as I attempt to capture and make sense of those thoughts, observations and ideas. If you are sick (in the head), and actually want to learn more about me and witness other narratives from my life, you can go here and read my secondary blog.

I welcome and encourage all comments, criticisms and complements equally, as long as there is some thought behind it. After all, blogging IS an act of narcissism (credit to D-Tales for that observation), and if I didn’t want to hear your feedback, I would be writing in a bed-side journal instead. If I get off-track, call me out. If you comment anonymously because you’re too lazy to create a free account or to simply type your initials at the bottom of your comment, I will find you and kick you in the face. Prizes are available while supplies last.

Complacency can kill you. New experiences are the key to progress. I believe that we should all be in progress. This blog will always be in progress.

Thanks for stopping by.

Coming soon

It has been brought to my attention, by more people than I'd like to mention, that I should write more. I've done the LiveJournal circuit for a few years, but life on that road can be unforgiving and depressing at times. A change of scenery will do me good. Besides, I've also heard the crowd over here tips better.

In a way, though, I fear that I am conforming. I am giving in. I just want to be a part of the rage. The movers and trend-setters have cast their line of temptation into the lake, and I finally took the bait. Blogger.com IS all the rage, right!? Gosh, I hope so. I can't be seen anywhere unless it improves my image, because as you know, I'm ALL ABOUT my image. It's not about what you write in your blog, it's about how you look while you're writing it. Original ideas, thought provocation, humor, and perspective; these are all ideas that run a distant second to the real purpose of blogging... popularity. Yes, I think I'm getting the hang of this already.

Ah shit, I just realized something troubling... I might actually have to think and be creative now. I'm also supposed to have a theme and a modern yet edgy and artistic banner graphic, right? Ok, fine, I'll get right on it. I wouldn't want to disappoint my fan (soon to be fans, plural, after I send the link to my mom).

Talk later.