Spoon-Fed Marketing

So here I am, sitting in front of the TV, and on comes a commercial that I've seen about a hundred times. It's for the "Big Dodge Ram Mega Cab", where these 4 huge, lumberjack kinda guys pile out of buddy's pickup at some little restaurant in the mountains because one of them just has to have pancakes. As they go inside, the camera pans to show a giant Paul Bunyan statue at the end of the parking lot, and ol' Paul's got his eye on that big truck.

You know which one I'm talking about now?

Well, after the voice-over is finished reciting all the specs of the truck and the legal mumbo jumbo involved in leasing the beast, the guys come out of the restaurant, only to find the truck missing. "Where's the truck?" one of them so-intelligently asks.

The commercial finishes with a shot of the truck driving away down the highway with a giant axe in the back. Ha ha... Clever marketing... The truck's even big enough for Paul Bunyan.

I noticed something different today, though. This time, when they showed Paul checking out the truck, they added a little "thought-voice" saying, "That sure is a big truck..."

It's not uncommon for ad agencies to change commercials a little bit, especially if market research shows that the audience isn't getting the point. So, I'm led to believe that there were enough people out there who were completely stumped by this one that they had to clarify it. I suppose some schmoe was sitting in his house thinking, "Hey... After those guys found their missing truck, why did they steal Paul Bunyan's axe? They'll never be able to swing that!"

You watch, we're gonna start seeing commercials with the director's commentary anytime now...

Scenes from the Forklift: Job Knowledge

I was sitting at my desk this morning, going over a couple emails, updating a few things in the system, when I looked up and saw 2 guys from "The Other Company" (really, just a division of our company, but "different" enough to deserve the title) approaching. The two of them stopped in my doorway and just stared at me until I finally gave in and asked, "Yes?"

With Number Two Other Guy leaning over his shoulder, Number One Other Guy held up a keyboard for me to see.

"Can we leave this on your cleaning bench for one of your guys to clean?"

Now, a couple of things ran through my mind at that moment... I wondered why I would want to have a member of my staff clean a keyboard for "The Other Company"... I wondered why it took two of them to come ask me this inane question... I wondered how two guys could stand so close together without feeling just a little creeped out...

I believe my response was something to the effect of, "No", after which I went back to what I was doing, hoping they would go away.

If wishes were fishes...

I gave it a good 5 seconds before looking up again and saying, "Why don't you just clean it yourself?" I was just itching to hear them say they were too busy so I could rip into them about it taking two really busy guys to walk one keyboard back to the warehouse. Alas, all I got was a blank stare and the response, "We don't know which chemicals are involved in that process."

Let me clarify... We're talking about a keyboard for a computer here. And, from what I could see, it was a little dirty. I really didn't think we were going to have to resort to some exotic chemical treatment in order to render this particular piece of equipment safe for public use. Looking over at the aforementioned cleaning bench, I saw the usual array of sanitation apparatus: Namely, a bottle of Windex and a pile of rags.

In the end, I think the two of them got it all figured out... But now I'm wondering if these might be the guys that left the "Snickers Bar, please" note and dollar taped to the snack machine...

Photo of the Week: The One Less Traveled By

Living in Alberta means the possibility of beauty and adventure around every bend in the road... Something I need to take more advantage of.

By the way, check out my sidebar for links to past "Photo of the Week" features.
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Analyze This: The Good, The Bad, and The Glowing Blue Goo

It's been a little while since I've given you all a glimpse at what caffeine can do to a sleeping brain, so let's see if you can wrap your heads around this one...

Ready? Here we go...

It started off with my boss handing me what can only be called a ridiculously small kayak with a paddle about the size of two wooden spoons strapped together. Looking around, I noticed the aqueduct we were in was full of "boaters"... I say that in quotes because I'm not sure I saw an actual "boat" among them. Lots of inner tubes, inflatable mattresses, and even a few bathtubs, but no boats. Slipping off the concrete wall and into my kayak, I quickly made my way to the head of the pack.

Little did I realize, this meant being the first person to paddle his way into my great-aunt's living room.

I negotiated the turns around the ottoman and coffee tables without too much trouble, and even made it so far as the guest bathroom on the main floor before I was stumped by an insurmountable obstacle... The stairs. Fortunately, that seemed to be the end of the race, since my little kayak had mysteriously disappeared.

Up the stairs I went.

Now, maybe my memory of my great-aunt's house is a little sketchy, but I'm pretty sure she didn't have a shopping mall upstairs. Still, there it was... A two-level, gallery-style mall that looked nothing like any mall I'd ever been in. It was full of garish colors, sunlight streamed in through the glass skylights, the stores were tiny little shops all packed together, and the place was crowded. I imagine it's the kind of thing one might see in Japan...

Looking around, I spotted someone I know, but haven't seen in many years. He was standing on the second level, right at the railing, holding what looked like a Nerf gun or Super Soaker, and smiling down at me. In the next instant, he raised the gun and fired, just missing me but leaving a glowing blue puddle of goo not far from where I stood.

The chase was on.

For how long I dodged and weaved through the crowd in the mall trying to avoid being shot by the mysterious blue goo, I don't know. I always managed to stay a step ahead of my attacker, but every time I looked back he was right there, relentlessly pursuing me like something out of a Terminator movie. A couple of times I saw him stop long enough to fire a shot into the ground where he stood, almost like we has marking his path. Who needs a Mall Directory when you've got a gun that makes puddles of glowing blue, goo, eh?

I took a turn down a hallway devoid of shops and found myself facing two doors. One was marked "Gas Meter Room" and the other "Boiler Room". Having been a Building Operator at one time, and knowing my way around these types of rooms, I was momentarily encouraged that I had finally gained the upper hand. Until, that is, I remembered I hadn't ever been a Building Operator in this mall and likely didn't have a key to either of those doors. So, I turned to leave the hallway and find a new route, but there he was.

Still smiling, he approached. I had nowhere to go and nothing to defend myself with. I was defeated. He raised the gun a final time and held the barrel about an inch from my chest.

The next thing I saw was my own arm flailing out and knocking the gun out of line with my body. "Interesting," I thought, since it hadn't occurred to me to try a move so daring. Even as I thought this, my other hand shot out and twisted the gun from my attacker's grip. I spun around, aimed, and fired.

A glowing blue spot seemed to blossom on his chest. With the same empty smile still tattooed on his face, he began to fall backwards.

And I woke up.

All right, kids, have at it... There's got to be plenty of imagery in that one for you to dissect. Don't hold back... let me have it!

Me vs. The School, Part 2

We now return to our regularly scheduled program in progress...

Well, I called the principal of my kid's school, as promised. In an unprecedented wise move on my part, I actually waited two days before making the call. Had I not, I'm quite certain a few of you would have seen me on the local news with a graphic proclaiming, "Preposterously Pugnacious Parent Provokes Public School Principal into Pugilistic Pairing". Those Channel 3 guys love alliteration. And the letter "P".

I have to hand it to this guy... He's quite the diplomat. Before I even had a chance to get worked up, he had me eating out of his hand and saying things like, "Oh, definitely. I completely understand." and, "No, no... Of course. I can't see it being any other way." and even, "I must kill the Malaysian Prime Minister."

(That last one is a lot funnier if you've seen Zoolander... trust me.)

The long and the short of it is, I have a Parent Teacher Conference to attend this Friday, during which I have been encouraged to have the teacher provide her "evidence" for the marks given (all "3's", in case you've forgotten). I'm looking forward to the imperical proof of my child's absolute averageness, I tell you.

While I had the guy on the phone, I decided to bring up another issue that my daughter has been complaining about lately, namely the fact that she has been the victim of some bullying on the playground. It seems that a few of the boys have been pushing her down on the ice, or grabbing her ankles when she's on the monkey bars. I'm not ready to explain to her that these actions are likely indications of affection, so I'll just let good ol' Mr Principal deal with it for now.

Wait... There's more.

I happened to be telling a co-worker about these bullying problems, and he related the following story to me.

Apparently, when his son was about the same age as my daughter is now, he too was being bullied at school. His dad (my co-worker... come on, follow along here!), tried giving all the politically correct advice he could think of, from, "Try to stay away from the kid" to, "Tell a teacher when you get bullied".

Not surprisingly, especially with children this age, whose grasp of logic is somewhat less than fully developed, the bullying continued. At the end of his rope, the dad (my co-worker... remember?), finally sat his son down and said, "Look, violence is not the answer to your problems, but, sometimes you just have to stand up for yourself when you are being picked on. The next time it happens, if you can't resolve it any other way, just give the kid a smack. Maybe you'll get beat up, but maybe showing that you aren't afraid to defend yourself will put a stop to all this."

Some time after that, the dad went to pick his son up from school, only to find out that he had been to the Office for fighting that day. "Well, what happened?" the dad asked.

"It's like this,", his son replied. "She just kept trying to kiss me. I warned her not to 3 times, like you taught me, and then I hit her."

A Father's Crushing Defeat

Well, I was pretty jazzed as I left work today because I had the most awesome idea for a blog post. Unfortunately, the best laid plans of mice and men...

Before I could even make it home, I had the pleasure of catching my little girl, my angel, the apple of my eye trying to steal a toy from one of my girlfriend's kids. I discovered, after much questioning and about a gallon of crocodile tears, she did it because, as she said, "he has really cool stuff".

*sigh*

Suffice it to say, the wind has kind of been taken out of my sails for this evening. So, my apologies for teasing you with the thought of a good laugh, but I'm sure I'll be more up to the task tomorrow.

I Have The Most Average Child

Last Friday was the day that children everywhere dread. It was also the day that parents everywhere look forward to with an evil little smile and the wringing of hands in a very 1950's B-movie mad scientist sort of way. I'm speaking, of course, about Report Card Day.

(insert creepy pipe organ music here)

The last time report cards came home, I was sure that I was going to open the envelope to find out that my little girl wasn't only a genius, but that she was the most genius-est kid they had ever seen. "Light-years ahead of the rest!" and, "Mind-bogglingly brilliant!" would surely be just a couple of the glowing comments.

Okay, maybe I was a tad over-optimistic...

What I saw was a veritable parade of "3's" right down both pages of her Report Card. I don't know how they score kids where you are, but apparently the "Scale from 1 to 5" method is preferred in my neck of the woods. So, "3" being the absolute middle-ground between a failing "1" and Beautiful Mind "5", it appeared that my daughter was dead average... in all 38, count 'em, 38 categories.

My first reaction was to proclaim her teacher too lazy to put an effort into the report. I wanted to get in touch with every other parent so we could compare just how little effort was put in on the rest of the reports. I wanted to take the papers and wave them in the principal's face, demanding the teacher's immediate expulsion from the school and teaching in general.

In the end, I tried a more sane approach and went to the Parent-Teacher Interview.

I was assured that the reason for all those "3's" was that the students had not yet done enough testing to produce definitive grading results. She told me that my daughter was doing fine and not struggling at all. She promised I would see more accurate grading in the next Reporting Period.

So, it came as no little shock when I saw a second column of "3's" when I opened the latest Report Card. Now I'm livid.

Maybe my kid isn't the next Einstein. For starters, she has way better hair... But I know that it's impossible for her to be average in every single way that our illustrious school board has decided to evaluate our children. Like every other kid out there, she has her strengths, and she has her weaknesses. I see them, so why hasn't her teacher made the same observations?

What good does it do to "gloss over" a Report Card? There's no way to tell what she needs to work harder on, or where I should be giving her praise for a job well done. And what's going to happen next year when she gets a teacher who actually gives a crap about the job (my fingers are already crossed), and it turns out that my little girl is behind everyone else in some fundamental area? Who pays? My kid, that's who.

I can tell you one thing: There will definitely be a phone call to the principal tomorrow. Will I speak with him rationally about my concerns with a member of his staff? Or will I snap and "go off", making a fool of myself? Right now, folks, it's a 50-50.

Stay tuned...

Photo of the Week: Treasure in the Trees

I've been saving this one for a while... A shady forest setting along with a slow shutter speed made for a great shot just below Bridal Veil Falls, near Chilliwack, BC.
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Get Ready to Kiss Prince Edward Island Good-Bye

That's right... It looks like our beloved little potato-producing province's days are numbered. I sure hope Anne of Green Gables knows how to swim...

According to the "experts", and by that I mean those select individuals who appear to get some weird kick out of analyzing weather patterns, Canada is currently experiencing the warmest winter on record. In fact, they go so far as to point out that 35 of the last 36 seasons (I'll save you doing the math and tell you that amounts to almost 9 years) have been warmer than average.

It's Global Warming, people! Let the mass-panic begin! Better stock up on End-of-the-World supplies now! I saw "The Day After Tomorrow"... I know how this goes down.

Okay, okay... That's not really me. I'm no where near being that much of an extremist. To be honest, when I saw that movie, that wonderful piece of cinematic excellence, that veritable buffet for the senses (seriously, we have to work on your grasp of sarcasm...) Anyway, when I endured "The Day After Tomorrow", and I saw all that snow and ice blanketing New York City, my first thought was, "Man! They better plug in their cars tonight!"

Regardless of my level-headed approach to this "news", though, you just know there are a bunch of crackpots who are more than eager to hold it up as "proof" that the end is near and that mankind only has itself to blame. Our flagrant use of hairspray in the 80's has angered Mother Nature and she's about to get her revenge...

On a much more serious note (unusual for me, I know)... For anyone interested in a little perspective on this subject, I would highly recommend Michael Crichton's novel, "State of Fear". While it is a work of fiction, Crichton has not only based much of it on factual articles, journals, and the like, but has taken the time to footnote these references where possible. The story itself is a definite eye-opener, to be sure.

Give it a try... Besides, what else are you going to do when the power goes out?

Withdrawl Sucks!

I had no idea I was addicted as I apparently am...

For once, I'm not talking about coffee. Although, truth be told, I don't see how anyone has the right to judge my deep and abiding love of the greatest drink ever as an "addiction". That implies I return to the Fount of Caffeinated Heaven time and again out of need, rather than want. Believe me, it's a want.

Oh boy, is it a want!

But, as I said, this isn't about that. I'm referring, instead, to the Internet... The World Wide Web, as it were... This global collection of computers, inextricably bound together by high-speed and dial-up connections alike. And, for what seems like longer than I can remember, I have been a part of all this... One small link in the greater chain... A daily commuter on the Information Super Highway... A surfer on the electro-charged waves of Cyberspace.

And not a bad metaphorist either, I might add.

Okay, on to the meat and potatoes of this working man's entrée...

My cable modem packed it in Saturday evening. Dead. The only warnings I had were a couple dropped connection hiccups... the final death-throes, yet unbeknownst to me. I tried my darndest to revive the little sucker, though... checked the cables, rebooted the system, rebooted the router, rebooted the modem, checked the cables again, struggled with tech support. In the end, I called the time of death at 5:25pm. As luck would have it, my ISP's customer service closed at 5:30, meaning I'd have to wait until the next day for a replacement.

Of course, there wasn't anything I needed to do on the 'net for those 21 hours, 32 minutes, and 7 seconds (roughly), but as soon as I wasn't able to get on, I wanted to get on. Did I have email? Was there a clever comment to one of my less-then-clever blog posts? Was it cold outside? I don't trust just stepping outside... these things can be very local, you know.

I was cut off from the world, people, and I didn't like it! Not one bit, I tell you!

Thankfully, once the new modem was home... I've named him Herb, by the way... Anyway, once Herb was home, and everything was back to normal, I let out a sigh of relief and "got connected" once again. Of course, no new email, no comments, and it really was cold beyond my back porch.

It figures.

It Would Seem That I'm "It"

I had this brilliant idea for a post today, and even got half-way through composing it in my mind. That was when I noticed that somebody had decided to tag me. Okay, in the spirit of the game then, here we go:

Four Jobs I've Had:

1. Chimney Sweep Solicitor
2. Water Salesman
3. Assistant Stage Manager / Sound Operator
4. Building Operator

Four Movies I Can Watch Over and Over:

1. Goodfellas
2. Garden State
3. Can't Buy Me Love (don't judge me...)
4. The Matrix (especially the lobby shoot 'em up!)

Four Places I’ve Lived:

1. 160-acre farm 7 miles northwest of Cremona, Alberta
2. Cedar by the Sea, Vancouver Island, BC (I saw killer whales out my front window... seriously!)
3. All four corners of Calgary, Alberta at one time or another
4. My mother's couch (good old college poverty, eh?)

Four TV Shows I Love(d):

1. Six Million Dollar Man
2. Knight Rider
3. Scrubs (by far the best sitcom ever!)
4. Hockey Night in Canada (did you expect any less?)

Four Places I've Holidayed:

1. Yellowstone National Park
2. Kelowna, BC (still haven't spotted the Ogopogo, though)
3. Mexico
4. Right here at home

Four of My Favorite Dishes:

1. Coffee Cups (of course)
2. Cereal Bowls
3. Plates
4. Gravy Boats

Four Sites I Visit Daily:

1. MSNBC.com
2. The Weather Network
3. Gmail
4. My company's web-based Inventory Tracking Program (only because I'm paid to...)

Four Places I Would Rather Be Right Now:

1. In line to cash my paycheque
2. Sleeping
3. Getting my photo taken with a giant make-believe cheque for winning the Lotto 6/49
4. Sleeping

Four Bloggers I'm Tagging:

1. Chana (known to most who visit my site as "Me"... My gf who has just started her own blog)
2. Torfeida (because it has been far too quite Down Under lately)
3. T (because I love his perspective on life)
4. Napfisk (because an informative mind like his must have some interesting answers)

Photo of the Week: Life's a Beach

Just one of many "gnarly" sights on the beaches of Parksville, BC.
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I Should Do It More Than Twice Every Couple Decades

Okay, look... I was in college at the time, and it only happened once... All right, twice, but no more than that, I swear. Come on, the guy was definitely the experimental type, very experienced, and knew I'd be totally into it once I gave it a try... I just had to trust him. Boy, am I glad I did! My only regret is that it hasn't happened again in the 15 years since.

If you've made it this far without lunging for the Close Window button in a homophobic panic, you're about to be either pleasantly relieved to find out that I haven't gone all "Brokeback Blog" on you, or terribly disappointed if you were expecting a sordid tale of man-on-man action.

(Wow, I almost lunged for the Close Window button after typing those last four words!)

Sorry, cowboys... I'm actually talking about the two times that my college roommate (whom I'll call "Ron"... because that was his name) made mix tapes for me. Okay, maybe that didn't sound very heterosexual either, but stay with me for a minute and it will all make sense... I promise.

When I say Ron was experienced and experimental, I'm talking about music. He had the most massive collection of records, tapes, and CDs I had ever heard of, he practically lived in HMV, and he was always into the hottest new music before it even became the hottest new music. He used to come home with a new CD, invariably by somebody that no one else in the household had ever heard of, lock himself in his bedroom, slap on his big Sony headphones, and play it over and over and over until he knew the whole thing front to back, inside out. Then he'd come out, go straight to the big stereo, and dub the disc to cassette so he could listen to it in the car. Once that was done, he'd give the rest of us his review, telling us if the artist would "make it" or not, and which songs would be hits. And you know what? He was almost always right.

Before I met Ron, I was stuck in High School, musically speaking. It was the early 90's, a time of some great alternative bands (that's alternative with a lower-case 'a', when it wasn't just a cooler sounding label than 'Pop') and awesome new sounds, but I was deaf to it because I wasn't adventurous enough to leave George Michael's "Faith" or INX's "Kick" behind.

Sad.

But Ron was a good guy... He knew a buddy in need of new tunes when he saw one. And so, he made me a couple of cassettes that introduced me to a bunch of new stuff. Well, some of it was actually old stuff, but it was new to me, and I loved it all.

For the first tape, he shuffled through piles of LPs and jewel cases, setting some aside, saying, "Oh! You'll like this!". Most of the songs on that one were completely new to me... Some Screaming Blue Messiahs, the Pixies, a little Big Audio Dynamite... All oldies now, but exactly the fresh sound I was looking for back then. I called that tape "Oh! You'll Like This!!! (The Force-Fed Mix)".

The second tape was a little different, but no less spectacular. It featured bands like The Housemartins, the Posies, They Might Be Giants, and The Mighty Lemon Drops. What made it great, though, was the amount of tracks that actually came off of honest-to-goodness records. Great sound, with just a hint of that vinyl hiss, pop, and crackle... Very cool. And I remember him waving me out of his way and telling me not to walk around when he had an LP on, or it might skip. So I ended up calling that tape "Steppin' Lightly Past the Vinyl (The One-Skip Mix)".

Like I said, that was 15 years ago now. I have gone 15 years without a knowledgeable, adventurous musical influence to get me excited about slappin' on the old headphones. I've had to make do with radio airplay and its pathetic parade of Classic Rock and cookie-cutter groups that are no more original than a 3-piece cover band at your local pub (yeah, I'm talking about you, Nickleback). That is, until last weekend...

I was doing a little blog surfing last Saturday and, no surprise if you know me, I went on over to the Zach Braff Blog (see "Daily Reads" in my sidebar) for a long overdue look-see. And what do you think good old Zach had chosen to talk about in his latest entry? Yep, music. Specifically, an up-and-coming artist by the name of Joshua Radin. Obviously this was a sign, right? Like Ron was speaking to me again, this time through the online writing of a celebrity neither of us have, or likely ever will, meet. Some crazy, cosmic tie that... Oh, fine... It was a coincidence. But it got me thinking.

I surfed a bit more and, long story short, ended up downloading... er... I mean, legitimately and legally purchasing about 40 tracks or so from one of the seasons of Scrubs, including 3 by Mr. Radin himself. And I gotta say, they are awesome! As I sat back and let my mp3 player do its thing, I got the same chills that my 2 mix tapes used to give me. At last!

I'm now definitely ready to explore some new musical horizons again, and I'm going to start by "legitimately and legally purchasing" some more stuff along the Zach Braff-y and Scrubs-y line... And, hey! If any of you have recommendations for stuff I just have to hear, drop me a comment or email and I'll try to check it out.

See, that was pretty heterosexual after all, wasn't it?