Tuesday, January 01, 2002

Italian hookers welcome the Euro by rounding down their rates. You Can't Buy Love, but Euro Brings Cheaper Sex

Being the guy around the modern household is a lot like being Operations Engineer. I'm expected to fix everything and take care of all decisions of a technical nature. New rug? Natalie. Ordering digital cable and installing a high speed internet access network? Me. Despite the fact that the lovely Natalie scored an 800 on her math SATs and I'm a creative type by trade, the maintenance of all things electronic falls on my shoulders. Why? Because I can't stand to hear anyone complain about something I bought or set-up not working. Ugly male pride, I know, but it's true. My toys must work or they will be unplugged and shot.

Yesterday, the cable modem started acting funky. I chalked it up to high traffic. Wrong. For most of the past 36 hours I've been reinstalling software, rewiring our wee network, swapping wireless routers and cursing poorly written instruction manuals.

Hey, look, there went New Year's Eve.

Oh well, I didn't mind. I think I've got everything working again and fixed a few bugs in the process. But doesn't it suck when the computer just implodes for no reason? Then you waste 36 hours fiddling with shit, not really knowing what it is you're doing, until suddenly, something clicks and it all sort of comes back to where it was before. At those moments, I am tempted to say, Fuck it! I did fine without computers before. I'll do it again! But that's a lie. It kills me to not be able to check my email, or review my Ebay listings or write my little blog entries. We are creatures of habit. Having escaped the need for daily hunting and gathering, we create new habits.

Then again, maybe its me? I've never been a good slacker. Too anxious.

One other tech note. I dumped the big screen TV in favor of a 36" Sony Tube set. You watch lots of DVDs? Rear projection and big screen are great. You watch a lot of cable like me? Big screens look like shit. I learned my lesson, saved $1500 and got a free DVD player in the game (don't ask, but I do love negotiations). Wheeeee!

Having enjoyed it on HBO for the third time tonight, I'd like to state that Almost Famous is a near perfect movie. Maybe it's my new found appreciation for Classic Rock, but I love this film. Sure, it's commercial, blah, blah blah. But having played the rock band thing myself, I can attest that Cameron Crowe perfectly captures the giddy, stupid, us against the planet even when I hate you mood of a touring rock band. It is like running away to join the circus. But instead of elephants and clowns, there's music and guitars and many smart, funny, affectionate babes who understand that you're leaving town tomorrow morning.

Okay, granted, there are some elephants and clowns in the music biz. But you just have to learn how to avoid those. And actually, the affectionate babes are sort of a myth too. But occasionally, one passes out in the right place and that's how stories begin.

BTW - check out the film's UK poster (far right) vs the US poster (near right). I guess in the UK, they gave up any pretense of selling the film on mystique or musical moments and just went with the chick (BTW - that shot wasn't even in the film!). Too bad. They should have had a rock band poster that 14-year old boys in 1974 would have hung in their rooms like a Hendrix or Doors poster. I'll sure some idiot marketing genius just couldn't figure it out. He scratched his head for 30 minutes and wondered Hmmmmm...how can we get people interested in rock and roll? Ooooh. Chicks!

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