I've bought a new camera. Not that there is anything wrong with my old camera. It's a $500 camera that I've used for two years. However, it's not as good as my new camera which is quite a bit more than $500. I spent about two weeks coming up with good reasons for buying the new camera because that's the way I operate (as opposed to Bobbi who considers "I want it" to be reason enough.... I actually envy that). Everyone has something that they own that they're never happy unless it's really good, be it a TV, car, purse, watch, or in my case, barnyard porn..... and my camera (I was a photo geek in high school). (Note: Perhaps if I shot my own barnyard porn!? This is BIG, baby!)
So, what does this mean for you, gentle reader? It means you will probably be getting more pictures on these pages as I put about 500 shots through the new rig and learn it's foibles. (For those of you keeping track, that's the first use of "foibles" in the Boo-log)
There's a new game that is sweeping the playgrounds of America and it's called cup-stacking. My first thought when I heard the phrase "cup-stacking" was that it might involve women somehow putting their breasts on top of something (anything will do) but, alas, I was wrong. "Cup-stacking" is in fact, the stacking of cups.
The idea is to take a certain number of cups and stack them into pre-determined formations as fast as possible (hey, it's no more stupid than cheering competitions). It doesn't sound to impressive until you see someone do it. Keep in mind that this video runs at normal speed.
Cup-stacking world record.
Step 1 - Unplanned pregnancy. This jumping off point is a step in the right direction towards the successful destruction of your husband's life. It's followed closely by "Sleep with his best friend" but is trumped by "Unplanned pregnancy after sleeping with his best friend."
Step 2 - Inability to sleep. This guarantees that your husband will be awakened at 5 a.m. as you lumber around the room like a walrus with hemorrhoids.
Step 3 - Learn to kick all covers to the floor while you sleep. This insures that when your husband wakes up at 5 a.m., he will be cold and have no blanket.
Step 4 - Never turn off your alarm clock. This is a must. Set it for 6 a.m. so that it will go off just about the time your husband goes back to sleep.
Step 5 - Make sure you need a degree in engineering to turn off the alarm. Some alarm clocks have a big button on top for turning off the alarm. Avoid these. Instead, get one that requires a door to be opened and a code inputted. Even better, get one with the off switch on the side. Whatever you do, make sure that there is a big button on top that activates the.....
Step 6 - Extra long snooze alarm. At least 20 minutes. That way, he's just about back to sleep when the alarm goes off again. (Tip - get a clock that is easy to program because your husband might yank the plug from the wall in a desperate attempt to silence the alarm.)
Step 7 - Kiss your husband goodbye at 7 a.m. This guarantees that he is just starting to drift off to sleep again when you barge in and wake him to say goodbye. (Bonus - Tell him you love him. This will confuse him because he knows you don't mean it.)
Our first potty-training weekend has come to an end with little progress. We put the baby into regular panties and watched her like a hawk all weekend for any sign of liquid. Naturally she didn't cooperate, instead choosing to run around all weekend having a ball and reserving all peeing for when she was napping. A watched child never pee's.
Now we're on to plan "B." We've bought a "Potty Elmo" doll (because children can relate better to the act of defecation if they first watch a Muppet take a shit..), which includes a "Potty Elmo" book that you can read to your child while she is sitting on the pot (reading on the toilet, something I really don't need help teaching..). We also bought a jar of M&M's to keep in the bathroom so we can reward her for a job well done. She's got a shitter, candy, toy's and books in the bathroom now so really, she has no reason to ever leave. Toss in a computer and some porn and I'd move in there myself.
When we first told everyone that we were going to have a baby, everyone had advice and comments (Most valuable: Sleep when the baby sleeps. Most Frequent: You'll never get to take a shit alone again!). I listened to everybody and read all the books but I'm a little pissed off that no one bothered to tell me about the fear.
It's amazing how little I worry about raising my children. I did that for the first year, mapping out all the big talks (No girl ever looks back and thinks, "I wish I'd had sex sooner"..... There's never been a drug that doesn't hurt you in some way, including alcohol..... Never eat at a restaurant that has a "sharing charge," on principal). Now, all I think about is, "What if something happens to her?"
Having spent my whole life tirelessly dedicated to the most important person in the world (me), I'm now suddenly faced with loving two people more than myself. With Bobbi it's not so bad because at least I can count on her not to stick a paper clip into the wall socket but Samantha.... that's a good time! Looking at my daughter I can't help but think, "How can I go through the rest of my life like this? Will it ever end?" (Hint: NO)
So now I go to sleep each night thinking about cancer, auto-accidents and threesomes with my wife and her sister (some things never change). In December we''ll have another child. I'm thinking of just wrapping that one in bubble-wrap until she turns 30.
I watch more football now than I used to because I finally joined a fantasy football league. Fantasy football has provided millions of men with a good reason to watch more football, which is a little like saying porn gives us a good reason to masturbate. I mean, really, DO WE NEED A GOOD REASON!?
One thing that I have found when it comes to football is that there are people like me, who appreciate the game, and are mostly there for the beer, and there are the other people.... the fans. You know the type, the ones who act as if their team is Jesus and all the other teams are Romans? No matter what happens, their team can do no wrong:
"That's a BULLSHIT CALL!"
"Dude, he ripped off the guy's arm."
"He was going for the ball!"
"Going for the ball? He ripped off the guy's arm. Literally. The guy is walking around with no arm."
"Look, the team mascot is picking it up."
The other thing that I find annoying about fans is their choice of allegiance. I live in Tampa, I'm a Bucs fan. That makes sense, right? My niece Alicia is a big fan of Florida State ........or maybe it's the University of Florida...... I don't remember, which is okay because SHE HAS NEVER GONE TO COLLEGE OR LIVED IN GAINESVILLE OR TALAHASSEE! It's just annoying.
Oh, here's something else I discovered. If you want to annoy a University of Miami fan, ask him why the Hurricanes have a duck for a mascot. (It's not a duck, it's an Ibis and his name is Sebastion)
I just finished a book called Freakonomics. In it, an economist attempts to answer some questions that don't usually get asked by economists. For example, if crack dealers make so much money, how come most of them live with their Mom? (As it turns out, the guy standing on the street selling crack is so far down the "gang chain" that his hourly wage is less than if he worked at McDonalds.)
I especially enjoy any statistics that defy conventional wisdom. For example, if your child has two friends, one had a gun in the home and one had a swimming pool, which house is safer for your child to play at? (The chances of a child dying in a backyard pool are 100 times greater than death by firearm). A child over the age of two is no safer in a car-seat than he is in a regular seatbelt, what makes him safer is being in the backseat.
The truth is, as interesting as this book is, it probably would never have become a best-seller if not for the chapter on abortion. In it, the author shows that the drastic drop in crime in the 90's was, in large part, because of the legalization of abortion 20 years earlier. From The New York Times Magazine:
Levitt and his co-author, John Donohue of Stanford Law School, argued that as much as 50 percent of the huge drop in crime since the early 1990's can be traced to Roe v. Wade. Their thinking goes like this: the women most likely to seek an abortion-poor, single, black or teenage mothers-were the very women whose children, if born, have been shown most likely to become criminals. But since those children weren't born, crime began to decrease during the years they would have entered their criminal prime. In conversation, Levitt reduces the theory to a tidy syllogism: "Unwantedness leads to high crime; abortion leads to less unwantedness; abortion leads to less crime."
The Senate Confirmation Hearings for John Roberts have begun. As expected, the central theme will be Roe v. Wade as the Senators try to assure themselves that Roberts will never make abortion illegal.
Let me just state for the record that I am for legal abortions. I won't bother to get into the debate on the ethics of the issue because my reasoning has nothing to do with ethics. Simply put, the United States Government should not have the right to tell you what you can and cannot do with something while it is inside your own body, be it a fetus, another man's penis or a Corona bottle (what college student hasn't had a Corona bottle stuck up their ass, huh?! What.... oh, just me.... okay).
Here's what bothers me about the confirmation hearings. Any potential Justice who is willing to state how he would vote on an issue that he hasn't heard arguments on shouldn't be allowed on the bench. The whole point of being a Supreme Court Justice is to listen to both sides of the argument when a case is presented and then make a decision. So, the correct answer to any questions regarding future voting should be, "It's impossible for me to say how I would vote on a case that hasn't been presented yet and to do so would go against everything the court stands for." Then, he could jump across the table, vault over the photographers and commence bashing on the committee's heads with that little hammer they carry.
Below is an excerpt from an email my cousin sent to my wife today. I think that it does a good job of summing up the family's general feeling about me.
"Booray does nothing but bitch all the time on his log - never gives the details. AND you can sooo tell him I said that, he is the king of all bitchers, he is the bitchiest of all the beaaatches!"
I am sooooo feelin' the love!
I found this picture about a week ago and I've been waiting for the right post to insert it but nothing has come up so I'm just going to stick it here and move on...
Transcript of an Instant Message conversation..
Booray: I called the guy from Verizon and he's going to come buy and try to fix the problem with the fax line.
Booray: If he comes by and fixes it, you should probably blow him, or at least give him a handjob.
Bobbi: Are you willing to part with one of your limited supply?
Booray: Hmmm, let's see.... I'm not getting any now so, what's 0-1?
I called my cousin's wife Joanna the other day (from now on, I'm just going to refer to her as my cousin to keep it simple). Bobbi had just returned from her doctor appointment and the doctor had advised her to have me get a vasectomy (not because we don't want more children but because, after meeting me, the doctor was determined to stop me from ever reproducing again).
"Joanna," I said, "I'm getting a vasectomy?"
"... and you just had to call and tell me?" She asked.
"Your husband had a vasectomy, right?"
"So, what comes out now?"
"The same stuff that came out before. I was all excited that it was gonna be all clean but nooo, it's the same as before."
"How can that be?"
"Well, they just clamp off the sperm."
"I thought it was all sperm."
"So you're saying the rest is just filler..."
"You're telling me!"
When it comes to great songwriters, they don't come any greater than Randy Newman. Despite the fact that most people would be hard pressed to sing a song by Randy, we've all heard his songs. That's because, in between his albums full of brilliant songs, he's managed to write original songs for the movies to the tune of 17 Oscar nominations (finally winning a few years ago for "Meet The Parents").
What makes Randy so brilliant is his ability to write a song from a point of view other than his own.... often a point of view that you don't care to hear. Still, he does it so well that you are drawn to his songs because each one so clearly defines itself, each invoking a character all it's own.
He's only had two real radio hits over the years. One was "I Love L.A. and the other was back in the 70's with "Short People." Many people criticized him for writing a song that condemned people because of their height (Short people got no reason to live...). All it takes is a quick listen to the bridge (Short people are just the same as you and I, all men are brothers until the day they die) to realize that the whole point of the song is to make it clear how silly it is to condemn anyone over physical appearance.
At the same time that Randy is writing non-radio brilliant songs, he's also writing beautiful radio friendly pop. Michael Jackson asked him to write a song for him and then never used it, so Randy recorded it himself. Is there any doubt that this would have been a #1 song if released by a pop idol? (Everytime It Rains)
It's hard for me to pick a favorite Randy Newman song so I'll give you a couple. First, a great song about a big-time Hollywood type and his arrogance about his own life (My Life Is Good) and then, in honor of New Orleans, a song about his childhood in the Crescent City (Dixie Flyer).
This is a reprint of a post I wrote years ago. My recent conversations with a fan of my old show made me think of it and since I doubt anyone who reads my blog now has been reading it for long.... I decided to re-post it.
It always used to amaze me how many people would call into the radio station under the belief that I was sitting in a room with a microphone and a CD player going wild. Modern radio is a huge business with stations charging as much as $1000 per minute for advertising and airing 13-15 minutes per hour. So, in the interest of truth, here are a few lies about radio DJ's....
They play whatever they want.
They are given a playlist that tells them exactly what to play and in what order. Sometimes the songs are on a computer hard drive and they just push a button to start the next one. If you think a station that is making millions of dollars is going to trust it's content to a Disc-Jockey, you're nuts. Which brings us to #2...
They play requests.
Nope. If you think a station that is making millions of dollars is going to trust it's content to a listener, you're nuts. If you call in a request and they do play it, you can bet it was coming up in the rotation anyway.
They say whatever they want.
Most of the time they are reading from a card (called a "liner") that says something like, "It's a (adjective) day in Dallas, my name is (jock's name) and here's (artist/song) on Hot 100.9! The Program Director usually screws down the jocks so tight that they are afraid to have an original thought..... forget expressing it.
They play the same songs over and over.
The music is rotated by computer, remember? The #1 song gets played every 4 hours at the most, usually more like every 6. It just seems like they repeat a lot because you notice the songs you don't like more than the ones you like. I've had listeners swear that they heard a song 3 times in 4 hours when I was on the air and had only played it once.
The contests are rigged.
They could care less who wins. The whole point of the contest is to get listeners during the contest. At the end, they just want to give it away and move on.
They make a lot of money.
Very few do. Morning men typically make 3 to 5 times what the other jocks make. The guy doing midnight to 6 a.m. may be making $25,000 at the #1 station in a top 10 market. Part-timers make as little as minimum wage. No one becomes a DJ to get rich. With the consolidation of stations under companies like Clear Channel, it's getting worse.
They get laid a lot.
Okay, that one's true.
Now, it's true that there are jocks making big money and jocks doing request shows but most of the time it's business as usual. In the old days, radio stations tried to provide variety and capture as large an audience as possible. Today, they try to capture one small niche, say women 18-34, that they can sell to advertisers. Frequently, the station with the most listeners doesn't make the most money. An advertiser wants the most bang for his buck. If you sold BMW's, who would you rather advertise with: The station with 100,000 listeners ( 10,000 of whom are rich adults, the rest are kids, teens, poor people etc.. ) or the station with 30,000 listeners ( all of them rich adults ). The same thing has happened to TV ( ESPN, Oxygen, Lifetime..). That's why Oprah is so rich, not because she has so many viewers, but because they are all the same type. The exception is small town radio where there are still a limited number of stations. But that's changing too as big companies buy them up.
"I'm making new business cards for everyone with the new address on them," I said, "What do you want for your title?"
"President is fine," Bobbi said.
"You don't want Owner?
"Okay," I said.
30 minutes later...
"I went ahead and made business cards for me too," I said, "Sometimes I meet people and pitch the company and I don't have a card to give them."
"That's fine," She said
"I didn't know what to put on the card so I put Owner."
"I was going to put Chief Financial Officer, since I do all the books but that seems weird when you tell someone you own a Title Company and hand them a card that says Chief Financial Officer."
"Okay," said Bobbi, losing interest in the conversation.
"Is that okay with you? I asked.
"I don't care. You're the one that has a "thing" about calling yourself an "Owner," It really doesn't matter to me how you refer to yourself."
"I know, I just don't want to give people the impression that I'm the one running the show when it's you." I said.
"Stop worrying about it."
30 minutes later...
"What are you doing now?" She asked.
"I'm creating a company email address for myself."
"What is it, Booray_The_Owner@SignatureTitleServices.com?
They always tell you to get off the course when the lightning starts. Luckily, this time it hit a flag and not a person (click to enlarge)
Bob Denver, who bumbled and stumbled his way to television stardom as goofy castaway Gilligan in the 1960s comedy "Gilligan's Island," has died of complications from cancer, his agent said on Tuesday.
Gilligan is dead and so goes another piece of my childhood.
For those of us born in the 60's, Gilligan's Island was as much a part of our daily routine as school and Pop Tarts. Back in the day before 500 channels, there wasn't much for us kids to watch at 3:00 in the afternoon but you could always count on Gilligan's Island. So we watched it, again and again, for our entire adolescence (98 shows in syndication, comprising 3 years of the show's original airing). Gilligan's Island, like Star Trek a few years later, became a part of American culture despite failing on prime-time television.
It shaped our sexuality as men. At 13 I decided I was a Mary-Ann man and have been one my entire life. It's no surprise that while other men drool over the exotic looks of Angelina Jolie and J-Lo, I have always been partial to the wholesome qualities of Sandra Bullock. Almost every girl I ever dated was a brunette and an athletic girl in a t-shirt and shorts is hotter to me than a skinny thing in evening wear. Is Mary-Ann responsible for a lifetime of female preference? Is it a coincidence that my wife is named Bobbi-Ann?
Most people don't remember that Bob Denver also played beatnick Maynard G. Krebs on Dobie Gillis. When I was a kid in California, the local station started playing old black and white shows every day and I got a chance to watch Dobie Gillis. Denver's portrayal of Krebs is considered the first "hippie/beatnick" ever on TV and he is credited with adding the expression, "like" to the national vocabulary (It was like, really groovy man!)
How long lasting was the fame that Denver got from Gilligan's Island? So long lasting that, 30 years later on David Letterman, Dave was doing a top-ten list called: Announcements That Will Make This Crowd Cheer Wildly. One of the announcements was: "Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Bob Denver!" Bob Denver stood up in the audience and the place went nuts. Everyone knows Gilligan and everyone loved him. Is there a person on the planet over 30 who can't sing the theme song to Gilligan's island from memory? There's a reality show on right now called The Real Gilligan's Island. On James Taylor's latest CD, he slips a piece of the theme song into one of his own songs. For my generation, there really is no bigger pop-culture icon than Gilligan.
Rest in peace little buddy...
This will be a catch all post...
.... the Governor called and Kitty is still alive. Despite threats to the contrary, Bobbi didn't take her to the pound this weekend, nor did she chop her up with an axe.
.... all those homeless people from New Orleans. If only there was a place we could put them that had housing, schools, hospitals and an infrastructure.
.... the federal government continues with plans to shut down military bases all over the country. If only they could be put to some sort of use.
.... we have finally moved into our new building and as of today, Signature Title & Recording Services looks like a real business. Now it's back to just me and the baby at the house full-time.
.... if there are any Fantasy Football players reading this, my starting line-up is McGahee, Barber, Horn, Wayne, Whitten, Hasselback, Reed and Buffalo.
You may have noticed a few days ago that I received a very nice comment here on The Boo-Log (on the post called "New Logo"). A college student left a comment about how she had listened to me on the radio years ago and said some really wonderful things. It really made me feel great to get a comment like that so I immediately sat down and wrote her an email.
She hasn't written me back.
What the hell? She said I was her inspiration and yet she won't write me back!? How often do you get a letter from your inspiration!?I mean, if Carrot-Top ever wrote me you can bet I'd write back!
I'm hoping that maybe she hasn't checked her email or her computers broken or she got hit by a bus or something.... Because otherwise, I'll be forced to believe that I'm not nearly as cool and God-like to the masses as I've convinced myself. Naaaa, that can't be it.... she's gotta be dead or something.
Stephen King writes an essay every week for the back page of Entertainment Weekly. This week he discusses television and say's (paraphrasing), "The perfect statement about T.V. was made in Rob Reiner's movie, "Stand By Me.""
That's great if you want to say that, really, but shouldn't you also point out that "Stand By Me" was based on a short story called "The Body" which was written by.... wait, I'll get it.... oh yeah, YOU!
I understand the need for talentless hacks (like me) to kiss their own ass in print but Stephen King?!
As I have pointed out in a previous post, my mind tends to segue around from topic to topic rather fast. Today when I was driving I somehow started thinking about a story I read years ago about a man who was being sued by Jerry Falwell. It's the kind of story that you read and think, "Man, I wish I had thought of that." We all go through life wanting to strike back at the people who irritate us but few people ever really do. This guy did.
It happened back in the 80's, when personal computers were still only owned by uber-geeks, which is to say that I didn't own one because, despite playing Dungeons and Dragons and reading comic books, I also frequently had sex. With other people. Girls. Really.
This guy... this genius.... went to visit his mother one day and discovered that she had been watching the Rev. Jerry Falwell on television quite a bit and had decided that the good Reverend needed her help (since he was always asking for it). So, she sent the good Reverend $1500. Now, that's not so bad except that she didn't have hardly any money and back in the 80's $1500 was enough to buy a house.
The son decided to get even.
He had a computer and he had a modem, back when only computer science nerds even knew what a modem was. The Rev. Jerry Falwell had a prayer line. People would call in for guidance and along the way get hit up for a donation.
The prayer line was toll-free.
So, the nerd set up his computer to call the toll-free number around the clock, hanging up each time a connection was made. Within a week he had racked up a shit-load of charges. So many ($10,000?) that Falwell took him to court.
I don't know what happened after that but I've always liked that story.