November 2006 Archives

I first heard about Burger King putting out video games for $3.99 last week. My brother claimed they were for PS2 or Xbox, but it turns out they're only for Xbox, which stinks. My friends have been trying to convince me to buy a 360 -- one of them went so far as to say, "We're all married and can't get permission to buy one, so as the last single guy you have a responsibility to the rest of us to buy a 360."

Right. You bet.

I'm a Sony guy -- although I'll probably balk at the $599 price tag on a PS3 too. It would look sweet on that big screen HD in my basement, but that's expensive, man.

So back to these BK Games. There's apparently three different games: Sneak King, where you sneak up on unsuspecting people and hand them a burger; Pocket Bike Racer, where The King races other characters including the Subservient Chicken on pocket bikes; and Big Bumpin', where The King drives a bumper car. Dammit anyway, this is making me upset over my steadfast refusal to allow anything Microsoft into my house.

A story I've been following with great interest for a few weeks is the University of Wisconsin's ridiculous trademark lawsuits against high schools using similar logos to their famed "Flying W".

I know quite well what the law says. As Professor Fong banged into my head in my Media Law class at Creighton years ago, if you do not aggressively defend your trademarks, no matter how small the offender may be, you won't have legal standing if someone REALLY steals your trademark. I understand Wisconsin's position. Its a good law that is there for a very important purpose, but I think there are times when common sense needs to take the place of black-and-white legal interpretation.

This is one of those times. And I'd imagine most graphic designers are going to vehemently disagree with me.

High Schools are not in the business of selling merchandise, turning huge profits, or marketing themselves beyond their students, parents and graduates. And that's really what Wisconsin's argument is based in: afraid of losing merchandising dollars. I honestly do not see any harm in a high school team using a logo on their football helmets that is similar to a college or NFL team, despite it being a trademark violation.

I happen to think its utterly ridiculous that an enormous state university with $70 million dollars in annual income finds it necessary to aggressively go after a public high school using a logo similar to their own.

Its always amusing to go back to your old hometown, and run into old friends, acquaintances, and people you'd rather never see for the rest of your life. You could put "Random Punk I Beat Up In Fifth Grade" in the latter category, as well as "Random Punk Who Beat Me Up In Sixth Grade". Also, "Psycho Sophomore Year Girlfriend" and "Slightly Less Psycho Junior Year Girlfriend" would go in the latter category. However, "That Weird Guy From Homeroom" is strangely no longer in that category, although in the interest of full disclosure, this has little to do with him, and everything to do with the fact that his wife is really hot.

Still though, when I was home for Thanksgiving this weekend, I ran into someone that got me to thinking "What If?" The set-up for this will be the first in a new series of Wood Grains "Old Man Peabody" Stories. Old Man Peabody being the old man in Back To The Future who had the crazy idea of breeding pine trees, sold the land that would become Twin Pines Mall (and later Lone Pine Mall), and was the guy whose barn Marty McFly crashed the DeLorean into when he arrived in 1955. In other words, its time for a trip in the time machine as I tell some classic stories from way back.

My buddy Dick Herculanum sent me a PDF of an ad for K-Mart's after Thanksgiving sale this week, telling me "its the funniest ad ever for the holiday season". After seeing it, I agree.

On the front page, they have four movies featured at the great price of $3.99, presumably to entice you to wait in line to shop on Friday. What are the movies? After the jump, I'll show you!

A ha! Bet you thought I was gonna say Taxi, didn't you? Silly you.

Nope -- Rocky V. And the weird thing is, I can't figure out how they're selling it on DVD already, when it isn't even released in theaters until Christmas. Did the studio opt to release it Direct-To-Video and I just missed the announcement? Is this a bootleg video from China? My head is going to explode.

Dick thinks it might be a typo -- its a Two-Pack featuring the original Rocky movie AND the pilot for the old TV series "V".

You know what I think it is? A crappy remake of the first four Rocky movies, all condensed into one 90-minute crapfest. Starring Ben Affleck as Rocky Balboa, Marlon Wayans as Apollo Creed, Tara Reid as Adrian, and Jerry Stiller as Micky. With a special cameo by The Hoff as Thunderlips, the role made famous by Hulk Hogan. And an extra-special cameo by Mr. T as Clubber Lang, the role made famous by, well, Mr. T.

You bet.

(Incidentally, I'd be excited about that $3.99 copy of Dirty Dancing, but I've already got 401,000 copies. Its called my 401K plan. Those things are worth GOLD, baby.)

"So let me get this straight. Your team had the MVP, the Cy Young, AND the batting champion...and you still couldn't even win single game in the playoffs?"

Ouch. That hurts, I'm not going to lie to you. Yesterday, in a shocking upset (shocking!) <a href="http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/news/story?id=2670876">Twins slugger Justin Morneau won the MVP</a> over Yankee Derek Jeter. This means the Twins now, according to postseason awards, now have the best position player, the best pitcher, and the best hitter.

When they were stinking it up for the better part of a decade from 1993-2001, I never would have imagined. What's more, vote-wise they had 3 of the top 7 in the MVP voting. Wow. Justin Morneau, Johan Santana and Joe Mauer. That's a helluva trio, there.

They become the first team in the history of baseball to have the MVP, Cy Young and batting champ and have all three won by different players. (Three times before, a team had all three award winners in a year but one player won more than one award).

Maybe its only interesting to me, but Ryan Howard, the NL MVP, and Morneau, the AL MVP, make a combined 750K because of their relative youth and inexperience. Talk about your bargains.

But back to Detroit Rock City. Yeah, buddy, you're right. The Twins had the best player, the best pitcher and the best hitter and got swept in the playoffs. You want to tell me that again, or is once enough? That's what I thought.

You bet.

Random Nerd #1: My favorite Simpsons line is when the Mayor says, "Ich bin ein Springfielder."...

Random Nerd #2: And, and, and then Homer responds "Mmmm. Jelly Donuts." That's hysterical.

Random Nerd #1: But do you know why he said that?

Random Nerd #2: Yes! It's an allusion to a speech JFK made in West Berlin. "Ich bin ein Berliner" which of course means "I am a Berliner"!

Random Nerd #1: Of course!

Random Nerd #2: But the genius is that a Berliner is not just a person from Germany, but its also a German word for donut!

Random Nerd #1: Genius!

Me, turing to RN1 and RN2: Out of curiosity, which episode is that from?

RN1 and RN2 think momentarily, then...

Random Nerd #2: 8F09 Burns Verkaufen der Kraftwerk! A great episode, in my opinion.

***

And I turned to the girl checking me out (not checking me out as in "Dude, she's totally checking you out!" but "Your total is $22.67, sir.") and said, "Of course. Episode 8F09."

And we laughed. RN1 and RN2, not so much.

You bet.

Every once in a while, you come across a weekend like this. Everything you do, everything you wish for, it all either doesn't happen or it sucks. Friday after work, I decided that because I'd been battling a cold all week, I'd cook up a delicious tuna noodle casserole and relax in front of my fireplace and watch TV. 

I stopped by Hy-Vee and gathered the necessary items to make this, and a few other things. As I was driving down my street, a cat, or a leopard, or a mountain lion or something darted in front of my car. It was big, is all I know. I slammed the brakes while simultaneously swerving, and managed to only clip its tiger-striped tail. But the maneuvering sent my groceries flying, and a box of eggs shattered all over the carpet of my new car. Almost 6000 miles in, and the carpet now will reek of eggs forever. Worse still, when the eggs are broken, you can't exactly throw any of them at the damn feline for daring to cross my path. Throwing yokes, well, they're not terribly aero-dynamic, as it turns out.

Then I got home and cooked up dinner. Problem was, the cold had left my mouth completely unable to taste anything. So that delicious casserole? Maybe it was, I don't know. As for the fire, it turns out my fireplace sucks and you can only actually feel the heat if you're 18 inches away or closer. Its more of an aesthetic thing; it looks nice, but all it ends up doing is jacking up your gas bill.

IT guys, at least the ones I work with, don't like Apple. They don't like iPods. They laugh at mine, lamenting all the "features" it doesn't have, all the "simplistic" navigation, the battery life, and the price tag.

Then one of them got a Zune.

I'll pause here for your laughter to stop, and we'll pick up the story after the jump...

Oh man, that's so sweet you don't even know! This site shows you what your favorite band might look like as Lego People. Some of the more dominant creations are Lego Jimi Hendrix, Lego Led Zeppelin (1969), Lego Led Zeppelin (1977), and The Lego Beatles (Abbey Road). But its not just classic rock. Lego Nirvana, Lego Soundgarden, Lego Sonic Youth, Lego Green Day, and Lego U2 (1987, 2000, and 2004) are also there. Sorry, no Pearl Jam. Of course, my boys from Lego Wolfmother (pictured above) are also there.

Lego Flava Flav is worth a look, if only for the Viking helmet and giant clock. Not sure why there's two versions of the Pet Shop Boys, as that's one for each of their hits, but who am I to quibble?

Just had to put the Soundgarden one here. If only for the menacing look on Lego Kim Thayil's face -- he may be plastic, and he may be just 1-1/2" tall, but I'm not messin' with him. Dude.

You bet.

I've been fighting the good fight through a cold the last couple of days. What started as allergies causing trouble at a party Saturday night -- the presence of a giant lab who kicked up enough allergens to make me miserable -- has pretty much now turned into a full-blown head cold.

When you are going through a two-kleenex-box cold, the inevitable end result is a chapped face between your nose and your mouth. This can only mean one thing: is Carmex Time!

Like Miller Time, only more soothing than refreshing, Carmex Time is that moment when you rub the wax-colored balm on. Within hours, you're completely good. Its magic stuff, it really is.

The stuff used to come in a ceramic bottle, and cost $1.19. Now it comes in a cheap plastic container, and its costs a dime more -- $1.29. Weird. Its manufactured in Wisconsin, and comes in a characteristic yellow-capped bottle.

I've driven the 162 miles between Fort Dodge and Omaha probably hundreds of times over the 9+ years I've lived in Nebraska. There are times when I will be in no particular hurry, and make frequent stops, opt not to pass slow drivers, and enjoy a leisurely drive. Then there are times such as Sunday night, when speed trumps all.

And so it is that my new record for driving the roughly 162 miles between Fort Dodge and Omaha is 2:41 -- river-to-river time. From the Des Moines River in F.D. to the Missouri River in Omaha in 2 hours, 41 minutes. This bests the previous record of 2:50 set 6 years ago when I was still at Creighton, and left FD on a Monday morning at 7 am and made it to my 10am class on time.

Why do I measure it river-to-river? Because over the 9+ years I've made this trek, I've lived at 5 different addresses scattered all across Omaha. That makes the variance in times hard to compare -- but the rivers never move. So I use that as my start/stop point.

Somewhere along the line, people mistakenly got the impression that I was some kind of genius when it comes to music history and pop culture. Its partially deserved, I suppose, but there are huge gaps in my knowledge bank. I freely admit this.

Today's example: Around 1992, there was this song that played on the radio all the time. The lead singer sounded a helluva lot like Eddie Vedder, and all he did for 75% of the song was sing in a baritone, "I'm goin' hungry!" while another guy screamed "Hunngraaaaay-ayyyy!"  in the background. Good song. I always assumed it was one of those cheap copycat bands that get signed to labels quick-like after a new artist takes the charts by storm. In this case, I figured it was a copycat Pearl Jam band, because they were the biggest band in the world at the time.

Just like Wang Chung was a cheap, poorly constructed knockoff of the Synchronicity-era Police -- similar sound and look with none of the depth or talent -- this had to be a cheap, poorly constructed Pearl Jam knockoff, and this was their one song, their one grasp at the brass ring.

There was no follow-up single, or at least not one that got significant airplay, so I quickly forgot the song even existed. Every once in a great while, I'd hear the song somewhere, and think, "Hey, its that ripoff Pearl Jam band!". My brother and I even took to mockingly calling them "Not Pearl Jam". I never knew the name of the song; I just always called it "The Hunngraaaaay-ayyyy! Song".

Then a couple of weeks ago, Dick Herculanum and I were driving between Halloween parties, and the obligatory bi-yearly hearing of "The Hunngraaaaay-ayyyy! Song" happened. I mockingly said in full Mexican Wrestling Mask Dominance, "Dude, its 'Not Pearl Jam!'". Dick corrected me.

I'm giving Cox one more chance to get this DVR thing right. Seriously, how hard can it be to give your customers a reliable DVR box? When I finally have time to go sit in line with the 30 other customers exchanging their boxes on that day, it will be the FOURTH TIME I've done this.

Four defective boxes, running the gamut from failed hard drives to bad processors, in eleven months. That borders on the surreal, doesn't it? One or even two, you could potentially chalk it up to bad luck. But four? Nope, that's a problem. And its not just me. Everyone you talk to has either had issues or has issues currently. One guy I know has a box that drops the signal on NBC-HD, but it works well otherwise so he keeps it because he's not sure if a new one would be better or worse.

When I made my twice-monthly trek to the mailbox Tuesday night, I found a letter from DirecTV. They send these out to homeowners everywhere; I've received six or seven the last year alone. This time, however, it didn't get added to the junk mail pile for shredding. (When you only check your mail twice a month, you literally have piles measured in feet when you sort everything into "Bills", "Junk Mail" and "Other")

No, this time I opened it. And I liked what I saw. That's right, Cox, I'm considering dumping you. That $178 I pay you every month for the bazillion TV channels and high-speed internet? Might not be getting that from me for much longer.

One of the big drawbacks to having a dish is the equipment issue. When you have problems like I've had -- nay, EVERYONE has -- with your DVR box, you're stuck with it. Cox has to replace it, no matter how many are defective, and no matter how long you've had it. But with more and more of the good stuff being on digital cable, you need a box in every room to see them -- just like with a dish.

The issue with signal loss in bad weather still is there, but if the DVR box actually records what its supposed to, and if I can actually get ESPN2HD, ESPNU, etc etc I think I might just put up with a few dropouts.

You've got one more chance, baby. If the fifth DVR box is a lemon, you're done. I'll take my $178 a month elsewhere.

Incidentally, DirecTV doesn't even offer a package that expensive. I think you can get every single channel ever for $140. Hmm.

You bet.

I pretty much think all politicians are despicable liars who are in it to serve themselves. They spend more time getting re-elected than they do working. Rolling Stone has called this the worst Congress ever, devolving into partisan acts, passing fewer acts of legislation than almost any congress ever, and completely forsaking their Constitutional duty to act as a check on the other two branches of government.

You could say that voting for any of these jokers is a waste of time. Heck, my own brother refuses to vote because he feels that politicians' priorities are, in this order: taking care of themselves, listening to over-50 and retired citizens, and wasting as much money as possible.

I would argue that the only reason they listen to the retired and over-50 set is because, well, they vote. And people our age for the most part do not. That's why Medicare and Social Security are huge issues, while the cost of college education and medical insurance are not. I vote in every election, and I have rarely if ever seen anyone without blue hair in line in front of me. Warrants mentioning. Doesn't keep me away, though.

But I would agree with him that voting is a seemingly ridiculous proposition, picking the candidate you despise the least so that the one you despise most doesn't win. That certainly seems like a waste of time.

He forgets, though, that when you vote, you sometimes get free cookies. And almost always a sweet sticker for your shirt.

The curse of X-Men 2 has struck again. Last week, one of my buddies at the office dressed as Wolverine for Halloween. He has the build and the muscles to pull off a convincing Hugh Jackman, so the gray muscle shirt required no extraneous padding or fake muscles to look realistic, because it was real. Then he fashioned a pair of blade contraptions out of real metal that rested against the palm of his hand and bent to allow them to not only be gripped, but protrude between his fingers. Combine some hair gel to make devil spikes in your hair, and presto, you're Wolverine.

Over the course of the day, it of course came up that I'd seen X-Men 1 and 3, but never 2. For the story on that, go refresh yourself here. Well, its on HBO On Demand this month, which means I can watch it anytime I want for free. Dominant, right?

Ordinarily, yes. I make it through 35 minutes of the movie, which is further than I've ever made it before, and its a good flick. Then my trusty, reliable, rock-solid, infallible, best friend (sic) Cox DVR box malfunctioned. Again. Seriously, this is the third DVR box to die on me in 10 months. That's called a scientific pattern, because I can not only prove it, I can repeat the results. These boxes suck.

This time, it was a hard drive failure. Most hilariously, I attempted to watch last Thursday's episode of The Office later that night, and made it to the 22 minute mark before the box completely croaked. And when I say croak, I mean that literally, because the sounds it was making made it utterly indistinguishable from a frog. Then it started revving up. Finally, it made a high-pitched squeal before the display flickered and it turned off permanently.

This would all be awesome if it wasn't about the 9000th time I'd had something happen while watching X2. This is beyond absurd now and has moved into the realm of the unexplained. Just, wow.

Someday, when I die, the coroner's report will list cause of death as "Minnesota Vikings". I'm serious. They are going to kill me. Not that they haven't tried numerous times, already, mind you. Someday they're going to actually do it. If someone had only stopped me from donning a purple Tommy Kramer jersey in 1982 when I was four years old. If only. But alas.

Sunday, my buddy Dick Herculanum and I headed to Stevie J's Bar in Dundee to watch a Sunday of football. His Broncos were playing the defending champion Steelers. And the Vikings were playing the horrible, horrible 49ers, a game not on TV in Omaha. Thus the need to go to a bar with Sunday NFL Ticket. And Stevie J's has flat-panel TVs in every booth allowing you to pick whatever game you want to watch -- on your own personal screen. Talk about domination.

I was happy. Then the game started, and I was not happy anymore. Calling it a  defensive struggle is giving too much credit to the degree of sucking that the Vikes offense puts forth on a weekly basis. They put the "offensive" in "offensive". You can lose a game 9-3. In baseball.

My buddy Dick Herculanum with the Nut Mobile

In August, when we were at the Iowa State Fair, Planters had a booth where you could vote for which accessory item to add to Mr. Peanut's ensemble in honor of his 100th birthday.

They had the peanut-mobile, like the Oscar Meyer Weinermobile but not quite, and out in front was a series of four cylinders. Adjacent to them was a big vat of plastic peanuts -- not shipping peanuts made of foam -- actual plastic peanuts. Cast your vote by putting a peanut in one of the four cylinders. Your choices were Bow Tie, Pocket Watch, Cuff Links, or No Change.

I voted for the Pocket Watch. This way he can avoid the pratfalls of habitual lateness, something nobody likes. Dick voted for the Cuff Links, I believe. I can't remember, though. I do remember there being an inordinate number of peanuts in the "No Change" bin.

Sure enough, the votes are in, and America has decided Mr. Peanut doesn't need any changes.

Dick sent me an IM with this knowledge. "Looks like our Mr. peanut votes were for nothing. Weak."

Ah, post #600 in the great and storied history of this site. Seems like only yesterday I was writing post #599...

Its late Wednesday night as I write this, and all I can say is, you're on your own figuring out whether the following story is really a metaphor for real-life events that took place Wednesday night but can't be described here in the normal fashion because I'm a creative guy and I've decided that writing metaphorical versions of real-life events is more challenging and thus more fun, or whether I actually played in a Volleyball game Wednesday night and this story is actually what it appears on the surface to be. Either way, that was one hell of a lot of words with no punctuation in that last sentence. Wow. Catch your breath, get ready, and we're off!

Remember how in post #599 I talked about the last night of volleyball, and superstition overruled common sense? Well, I was right back there Wednesday night playing again in the playoffs for another team. Had to return a favor to a couple of lovely ladies. You understand how it is. One of my rules is anytime a girl calls you and begs you to come play volleyball with them, you have to do it. But when you initially say no, and she gets one of her teammates to call you later to beg, well, you absolutely must throw aside your other plans at that point and go play.

Its really the only decent thing to do at that point. I mean, anyone who wants you to come so badly that they recruit a friend to make a call after you turn them down, that's the kind of dedication I pay respects to and will cancel previous engagements for.

The great experiment with allowing superstition to overrule common sense came to a screeching halt Tuesday night on the final night of competition in our sand volleyball league. The previous three weeks, in below-normal temperatures, I'd discovered that beyond the obvious physical limitations posed by wearing shoes in sand, I played much slower and badly while wearing shoes.

Last week with temperatures in the low 40s at game time, I tried to play with them on, an experiment that lasted one game. I promptly removed them and proceeded to serve 11 dominant serves in a row to start the game en route to an insurmountable 11-0 lead.

Tuesday night, the game time temperature was hovering around the freezing mark. But this was the playoffs -- the PLAYOFFS! -- and superstition is more important than common sense, especially in the PLAYOFFS! So off came the shoes.