Tikkabik

Every so often I find the choice of music used in television advertising so appalling I'm absolutely stupified.

The latest example of this is TD Bank Financial Group, an aggressively growing financial institution based in Canada which is running ads to build brand awareness of its TD Banknorth and TD Ameritrade businesses.

The music they're playing in the background is the unmistakable piano riff that runs in the background of The Verve's Bittersweet Symphony. Here are the first three lines of that song:

'Cause it's a bittersweet symphony, this life

Trying to make ends meet

You're a slave to money then you die

Now, it's a haunting riff, if you've never heard it -- it sticks with you. So on one hand I can understand why they'd want to use it. On the other, it's so frighteningly inappropriate for a financial institution, I have to wonder what the hell their marketing people were thinking.

Posted by flargh at 07:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

The Sagamore and Bourne bridges serve as not only a physical gateway to Cape Cod, spanning the Cape Cod Canal, but also as a mental gateway -- on one side you're on the Cape, on the other, you're not (Wareham's insistence on being "Gateway to Cape Cod" notwithstanding).

For people with cursory familiarity of the geography of Massachusetts, once you're over the bridges, you're on the Cape, and that's it. But because of the Cape's peculiar, winding shape, that of an arm making a fist -- the result of sand and sedimentary deposits built up over eons from the confluence of two major tidal forces -- there's a lot more to the Cape than just being on the Cape.

Take tomorrow, for example. As part of her work Bonnie has to go to Eastham to give a presentation. Now, we live in Mashpee, which is in the "bicep" of the Cape. Eastham is way-the-hell up in the "forearm" of the Cape, more than an hour away from us.

Plus my daughter goes to a day program in Barnstable, which is about mid-way in between the two. Worse, we're a one-car family. So I have to drive to Eastham, drop Bonnie off, bring Emmeline to her day program, then pick Emmeline up before going back up to Eastham to get Bonnie again.

As I make my way up the Mid-Cape Highway, I get to deal with what is inarguably my least favorite stretch of road anywhere on Cape Cod -- the stretch of Route 6 between exits 10 and 12, which the locals have wryly referred to for years as "Suicide Alley." It's the spot where Route 6 turns from a divided four-lane highway into two lanes separated by nothing more than some plastic columns, a small bump of asphalt and dividing lines. It terminates in Orleans, right at the "elbow" of the Cape, in a rotary. And then is a relatively low-speed roadway for the rest of the journey.

I used to do this drive three or four days a week, back in the Bad Old Days before I started working from home.

It'd be easier with two cars, but it's not worth the expense for as often as this happens.

Posted by flargh at 09:42 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Dear Mr. Elderly Person at the Pharmacy:

We're all just fascinated with your daughter's recent progress in passing her exams, and delighted that you're so proud of her and looking forward to seeing her accept gainful employment, hopefully somewhere close enough that she can still visit you and the Missus on the weekends.

And some of us may find it downright comical that you don't remember what day of the week it is. Sunday, June 25th, by the way.

It must be great, after a lifetime of toil, to be able to give yourself to a life of leisure.

But for those of us that are queued up behind you, we actually have somewhere else to go and other things to do today.

So please, get the fuck out of our way and let us get on with it.

Posted by flargh at 04:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

One of my favorite things to cook is sausages -- usually I grill them, often a bit too much, but last night it was pissing down rain so I decided to try something different. I laid out a glass pan, heated up the oven, then set the sausages on a bed of green peppers and onions cut into thin strips, mixed with a bit of salt, olive oil and pepper. About half way through I flipped them over and made sure to cover them in the peppers and onions to help the flavor to soak through. They came out spectacularly -- nice and juicy and very flavorful. Put the sausage in a nice chewy roll and smother in peppers and onions, and it's like being at Fenway Park. Minus the 80 year old bathrooms.

My only problem was that the peppers and onion reduced way too much in the oven. Looking at them raw I thought I'd overdone it, but now I can see that next time, I'll need to use at least twice as many to get enough for all the sausages.

Cheap meal, too -- the sausages and rolls were on sale and peppers and onions come inexpensive enough.

Posted by flargh at 01:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Anyone else as irritated as I am with the autoexecuting QuickTime ads that Apple has posted all over its Web site? I like the new Mac and PC TV ads as much as the next guy, but I really don't like having them forced on me each and every time I load up Apple.com.

Which, in my line of work, is typically several times a day.

Posted by flargh at 11:49 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

We were surprised and honored today when Robert was given not one, not two, but three awards at his school. One of them was the top honor any student can be given -- Student of the Year.

We'd already been told by his teacher that he was going to receive awards, but the school kept us in the dark about what they were. The other two were Poet Laureate for Group 8 (the academic group he's part of) and Biggest Improvement in phys ed., which makes me happy too.

The Student of the Year award is a big deal -- students who get it, according to the vice principal -- not only excel academically, but socially as well. We know Robert's still having some trouble getting along with the other kids in his class, but it's phenomenal to see him progress this far, especially since he's only been there since November, and arrived a bit sullen and withdrawn. After what happened to him in public school, I can't say that I blamed him.

The Poet Laureate award was a special one one of his teachers thought up, as Robert is prone to doing his schoolwork in poetry form rather than just as a five paragraph narrative. Which is pretty cool, I think.

As far as the most improved in phys. ed. award, it may seem trivial, and I suppose it is, a bit, but this was a real weak area for him when he got to the school. His hand eye coordination is great with video games but not so good playing sports, and I actually made sure that he'd get some special attention in this area when we crafted his IEP. So I'm happy to see him rewarded for all his hard work.

Plus, his sister was awarded at her school too -- all A's and B's.

Posted by flargh at 08:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

You're a douche.

We heard you ring your bell for 20 minutes as you drove around the neighborhood, exploring almost every street in the development. Except ours, of course.

My daughter stood vigil at the screen door in the front as she heard your bell get louder then softer, louder again then softer again.

Finally we caught sight of you, pulling up the street adjacent to ours -- the street that leads outward to the town at large. And that was the last we saw of you.

Bastard.

I had dreams of a Bomb Pop for dessert tonight. I'm sure my wife would have loved a Chocolate Malted Milk Cup. And my kids were certainly fantasizing about the latest novelty pop feature their favorite cartoon characters.

But nooo.

Posted by flargh at 06:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

You ever notice that over the past few years, ice cream makers have shrunk their bricks from an even half-gallon to 1.75 quarts? I think it sucks.

I buy Dunkin' Donuts coffee by the pound, partly because it's a real pound -- not 12 ounces, or 10.5 ounces, or whatever ridiculous amount retailers can get away with sticking in bags and cans on grocery store shelves these days.

Likewise, it's getting harder and harder to find ice cream in actual half-gallon containers any more.

These days, the only times I buy ice cream are when it's on sale -- preferably two for one. And only then, if I have a coupon. That's what Bonnie calls "stupid money."

But I still feel a bit jacked over the .25 quarts that I'm missing.

Posted by flargh at 10:46 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Yay! The Pet Shop Boys' latest album Fundamental is now available for purchase from the iTunes Music Store in the US. It's been available in the UK for a little bit now.

I adore the Pet Shop Boys. I love their music in the same way that Corey is really into Tool. I have all of their albums and an extensive collection of singles too.

I'll admit I wasn't always a fan. Living through the 80s I certainly was familiar with their music but didn't actively collect it. Then I met Bonnie, who was very into PSB, and she got *me* very into PSB partly by osmosis, partly because after listening to it, I realized just how great it was.

Fundamental, from what I've heard of it, is fantastic -- their first single, I'm With Stupid, is classic PSB -- top notch electronic pop with a really sarcastic twist. The song is about Bush and Blair. You can fill in the blanks.

Anyway, believe it or not, despite this effusive enthusiasm, I'm not plunking down money to buy it just this second. See, their US distributor in the States, Rhino, will release a two CD set that bundles Fundamental with a remix CD, Fundamentalism. That's worth waiting for. Besides, this way I won't have to deal with low bit rates or DRM, either.

Posted by flargh at 03:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I admit that I'm prone to using the occasional malaprop as well. But there are a few pervasive linguistic mistakes that native English speakers make which irk me. Here's the latest list.

"For all intensive purposes"

It's for all intents and purposes.. C'mon, just think about it.

"The proof is in the pudding"

No. The proof of the pudding is in the eating. I know this for a fact, because I like me some pudding.

"That was hysterical"

No it wasn't. It might have been hilarious. It may even have induced in you hysterical laughter. But the event, itself, was not hysterical.

"He jerry-rigged together a working Mac out of those parts."

If he did a lousy job he may have jerry built it. If he concoted a clever solution using parts on hand he may have jury rigged it.

"You can't have your cake and eat it too."

The action is reversed. The correct expression is "You can't eat your cake and have it too."

"I feel nauseous."

No. Your constant misuse of language make me nauseous. You look nauseated.

"In all honesty" or "In my honest opinion"

That implies that without that qualifier, you're being dishonest.

And so on.

Posted by flargh at 06:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

"It is not necessary to remind you that the fact that your voice is amplified to the degree where it reaches from one end of the country to the other does not confer upon you greater wisdom or understanding than you possessed when your voice reached only from one end of the bar to the other." - Edward R. Murrow

Posted by flargh at 03:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Last week Corey mentioned to me that he was done with mediocre television and anxiously awaiting the return of shows he liked. Perusing the backlogged contents of my DVR, I realized there's a lot of good television that I recorded this season which I haven't even watched yet.
I've got several episodes of Medium to watch, for example, and almost the entire season of The Sopranos (all -- what? -- eight shows?). We've still got half a season of In Justice, some episodes of Ghost Hunters and at least three or four episodes of Doctor Who and a few stragglers from Boston Legal and the season finale of Thief.

Plus the season premiere of Deadwood starts tonight; BBC America just started showing Hex; IFC TV is showing Samurai 7 and FX is now showing Rescue Me. It just keeps piling on and on. It's an embarassment of riches.

Posted by flargh at 02:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

After what seemed like an interminable period of rain, we finally got a sunny day. Hooray! It's been grey, overcast and wet for what seems like months now. One of the local meteorologists said that he has no doubt that this May and June will break all records for rainfall.

You know it's bad when the flowers in the windowboxes are limp and dead, not from neglect but from (natural) overwatering.

Posted by flargh at 12:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I wonder if this is covered by my company's medical plan?

Posted by flargh at 05:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

So was at Stop & Shop last night, unloading my cart with some dinner supplies and other stuff. I'd just about gotten the cart unloaded when this well-dressed, well-fed man wheeled up behind me and started unloading his cart.

I could tell he was in a hurry from the start. He started putting his groceries on the belt before I'd even finished unloading my stuff. Ordinarily I'd let stuff like that pass, but what this guy did next pushed my buttons -- and for reasons I won't get into here, I'm not in a button-pushing mood this week.

I'm waiting for the cashier to finish scanning my order, standing in front of the card reader most of us use to pay for our groceries these days.

This guy sidles up beside me, only about a hand's breadth away. He's jockeyed in front of his cart and is now definitely inside my personal space zone, as if we were crammed together on a packed subway train at rush hour.

Only this isn't a subway train, and this sure as hell ain't rush hour. Anymore.

"Back off," I said.

He didn't realize I was talking to him, I think. He was so in his own world, I don't think he acknowledged that anyone was speaking. He was just staring off into space.

"Back the fuck off," I repeated. "At least an arm's length away, if you don't mind."

The guy huffed a little as if to protest, but eventually did what he was told. I leisurely completed my order -- actually, that's an understatement: I took as much time as I could to complete my order -- and left.

He resumed his rushing and huffing and puffing the second I strolled my cart out of there, shooting me a dirty look as I walked off.

Weird thing is, this is the second or third time this has happened to me at this particular store. Now, I do a large amount of my grocery shopping there, so perhaps it's just an exposure thing. But I've also been at this store in the middle of the night when people have excoriated the one cashier on duty for not keeping a self-service line open and made other really self-absorbed complaints, so I really think that it's specific to this store, or at least their customer base.

About the only thing I can think of is that the store is located in Cotuit, Mass., a village of Barnstable not too far away from Osterville. There's a large concentration of wealth there, and at any given time there's a high concentration of Land Rovers, Mercedes and Lexuses in the parking lot. So not superrich folks, but people who undoubtedly are far more important than the rest of us.

Interestingly, I've also noticed this behavior in the self-service lines, where you scan your own groceries and pay for them using an automated machine. It's not quite as bad, but I can't actually count the number of times I've used those and still been loading my groceries into bags at the end where someone just absently walks up to terminal, scans their card and starts sending groceries down the conveyor belt.

I think that's the result of three phenomena: One, the novelty of the self-service lines hasn't allowed the etiquette of regular grocery lines to carry over. Two, people see the terminal absent of a customer, and immediately want to fill that space, without bother to check further down to see if the previous customer is actually done. And three, the absence of a belt to unload your groceries on first before they're scanned has messed up the traffic flow in such a way that people just don't think about giving the person ahead of them time to finish.

Maybe I should just start bringing a cattle prod with me.

Posted by flargh at 09:19 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Boston Globe columnist Scot Lehigh's latest oped piece was inspired by essayist Stephen Miller's new book Conversation: A History of A Declining Art. Well, that, and the general banality that abounds these days. Sounds like a good read.

"Talk radio, which styles itself a democratic medium, rewards invective, insults, and idiotic generalizations - and that's merely to count the contribution from some of the hosts."

But what really grabbed me was this:

"A popular culture that legitimates boorish narcissists has devalued collegial communication...
"Aided by the Internet, more and more people are joining what Miller calls 'anger communities,' like-minded individuals who empower each other's pique and reinforce shared prejudices."

Posted by flargh at 03:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

What a rare confluence.

"I wonder if the president's political advisers know just how ill-advised and smarmy this wedge issue looks to the millions of us who want solutions to the critical, urgent problems facing this nation. Worse, I wonder if they even care." - Lou Dobbs

Posted by flargh at 11:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

My office


Originally uploaded by flargh.

It's very, very messy in here.

Posted by flargh at 09:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Ann Coulter is a vile whore of the devil.

Posted by flargh at 06:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

John Martellaro's recent analysis of Apple's gaming position has some interesting moments.

One hand, I agree with some of Martellaro's points: Apple clearly has a position that doesn't include gaming as part of the overall marketing message or message to developers, at least right now. Apple's not courting either consumers or game makers who want to use their Macs to play games, with the exception of some slight, passing lip service on its Games page and in the graphics areas on its computer spec pages.

Unfortunately, Martellaro veers the bus off the road and plummeting down the side of a cliff when he comes up with this howler:

When you have several hundred senior managers at Apple who are most likely married and typically have children, you'll find a culture of affirmation, family, and life

Huh? Just who the hell does Martellaro thinks runs the show at places like EA, THQ, Ubisoft, Activision and 2K Games? Most of the middle and senior managers and senior game designers I'm familiar with have families; many have kids as well.

Listen, Apple has a lot of reasons why it doesn't do a better job of catering to the games market. I suspect that the wise words of a friend of mine are right: Apple probably doesn't perceive gaming as a priority that pulls people to the Mac OS X platform, so why emphasize it? Only the most clueless company is going to throw good money after bad by emphasizing a strategic weakness rather than a strength.

But to imply that Apple's senior management are a bunch of feel-good hippies sitting cross-legged around a campfire singing "Kumbayah" while roasting their veggie burgers on sticks is just silly. There are a lot of sound business reasons why Apple doesn't get more involved with games, rather than emotional ones. I don't like them any more than the next gamer -- in fact, I rail against them, but that doesn't change their existence.

Martellaro also opines that Steve Jobs doesn't like military games because he's a hippie, and hippies hate the military.

Steve Jobs hates meat, too, but that doesn't stop Apple from serving it in the cafeteria, or, for that matter, selling a leather iPod case of its own. I don't think Jobs is one to categorically put his own philosophy ahead of a good business plan.

Don't forget -- a few years ago, Steve Jobs shared the Macworld Expo keynote stage in Tokyo with John Carmack, co-founder of id Software. Carmack -- an old NeXT developer -- announced that id's next game, Doom 3, would support the Mac. Before that, Jobs used his time at a Macworld Expo in New York to show off Halo (and then Bungie got bought out by Microsoft, but that's another story).

And Doom 3 did indeed come out for the Mac (though it took a while). So this isn't a man who's averse to giving games some time on the Macworld Expo keynote stage.

But he's also not one to make the same mistake over and over again. And I'm sure that from his perspective, Apple's made overtures to gamers and to game developers, and hasn't seen a huge uptick in that market. So why should Apple keep making the same mistake over and over again?

Posted by flargh at 01:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

My children are wholly obsessed with Pokemon.

I dunno why, but a few months ago I totally gave up any pretense of trying to control their access to their Game Boy Advances. What they play almost to the exclusion of everything else are Pokemon games. They go running full speed back and forth to wherever the other is in the house, telling them about their latest exploits -- "I captured this Pokemon" or "This one is evolving" or "I'm visiting a new area" or "How do you get this, that or the other thing."

If your familiarity with Pokemon ends at the cartoon or the collectible card game, the Game Boy Advance game is actually a Role Playing Game (RPG) in which you assume the role of a Pokemon trainer. The Pokemon you control must battle others, and battling them strengthens them, eventually causing them to evolve into different forms.

Each game has dozens of different Pokemon to collect; different areas to explore; different goals; different characters. But at their core, they're fundamentally similar experiences. Yet our kids are determined to play them all.

I've played Pokemon games. Personally, I find them excrutiatingly boring. But then again, I'm not the world's biggest RPG fan either.

Posted by flargh at 10:30 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

James is sitting on the sofa playing Pokemon Emerald on his Game Boy Advance. Suddenly he looks straight ahead and begins shaking his head violently from side to side. He stops, puts his index finger on his forehead, over his hair, stares closely, and begins shaking again.

"James, what are you doing?" I ask.

He stares intently ahead again and gives his head a few more shakes.

"I'm making sure the dead hair can get off my head," he says, then goes back to playing.

Posted by flargh at 10:32 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Names changed to protect the innocent:

[IM Poster]: my mom has been complaining that her emac has not been working well. odd things like the "delete" key doesn't work, it's making a mild hum, etc.

[IM Poster]: today in IM she says, and then logs off right after "gotta go, it's making the burning smell again"

[IM Poster]: the what????

Posted by flargh at 10:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I'm inclined to agree with the comments made by some of our forum users that Apple should provide some sort of basic small networking management software, but I don't think it should just come with the Mac. Instead, I'd recommend building it into iLife '07.

Apple Remote Desktop is an incredibly useful and very powerful application that Apple sells to net admins who need to manage small workgroups of Macs -- it costs $299 for 10 management systems or $499 for an unlimited number of managed systems. Even the 10 user edition is priced well out of reach for a cost-conscious consumer.

In addition to providing administrators with the ability to observe and control other users' screens, Remote Desktop provides file installation, client management and software and hardware auditing capabilities. That probably goes a bit overboard for what the average home user or small business owner really needs.

Some of that can be duplicated with VNC and other free utilities, but getting them to work can be a bit wonky, and there's nothing really under one roof for Mac users as there is with Remote Desktop. There's Timbuktu, of course, but its pricing is similarly out of reach for normal humans.

Cutting Remote Desktop down just so an administrator can view and control the screen, adjust remote settings, lock out users and handle some basic reporting, I'd imagine, would do fine, and would be a huge bonus for harried parents who want to keep an eye on their kids' Web surfing habits or small business owners who want to make sure that the iMac in their inventory room isn't being used rip DVD's illegally. Seems like it'd be a huge value-add for new Mac users who get iLife with their systems and Mac users looking to upgrade alike.

Just a thought.

Posted by flargh at 07:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

The fallback argument of many who condone software piracy is "I never intended to buy the software that I stole, so I'm not taking money away from the publisher."

Yeah, but you're still getting something for nothing.

If you sneak into DisneyLand and you're riding the Matterhorn for free, fuck you. Security should throw you out on your ass and maybe do a cavity search while they're at it. I paid $60 to get in the park.

Posted by flargh at 11:25 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

We've been spoiling Max for the past few days by giving him wet food instead of his customary kibble. This morning he found himself with a bowl of kibble instead of wet food, and he protested. He rubbed our legs and acted cute; he positioned himself in front of the cabinet where he knows we keep the cans; he jumped up on the kitchen table and yowled at us.

Finally, begrudgingly, he sat down in front of the food bowl and ate his breakfast. But it's clear that he isn't happy about it at all. His body language indicates resignation and disgust.

Ironically, we ran out of soy milk yesterday, which Bonnie uses in her coffee and Robert uses in his cereal. When I came downstairs, Robert was glaring at me from the kitchen table with a bowl positioned in front of him stacked full of dry cereal.

Like the cat, he didn't have to say a word -- the body language spoke for him. I walked over to the kitchen cabinet and pulled out a lactase tablet (to help ease digestion of milk -- it works for both Bonnie and Robert) and set it next to him.

He didn't use it. This affrontery was clearly unacceptable to Robert. The glares continued as he shoveled dry cereal into his mouth and then stomped off to get ready for school.

Posted by flargh at 07:07 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)