The iPhone Experience

I said I’d never be a Starbucks fan, I am… I don’t make a habit of drinking caffeine but I really like the Chai Tea. I’ve sold out.

I never thought I’d become a zombie when it comes to Target. People would make me crazy with the nickname to make it sound French. I’m that person now.

I never thought I’d become a Mac person but after owning a Touch (I sold out) and now owning an iPhone, I’m strongly considering making my next computer purchase a Mac. Again, I’m selling out. Of course, this could be a good thing.

I don’t know what I’d do without my iPhone now. Of course, I had a little (tiny) buyer’s remorse when I heard about the Motorola Droid. It had a real keyboard and probably a better network, Verizon. I’m firmly behind my iPhone. I love the fact it even corrects iPhone when I type it incorrectly.

I remember coming out of high school being pro-Apple. The company did the right thing long ago by educating the masses in their computer culture. Our computer lab, because we didn’t have them in every class) was filled to the brim with Apple IIcs. I knew that computer inside out. When I got to college, I was told IBM was the way to go. Kicking and screaming I was brainwashed into converting to what’s now become a Windows computer. Now, I face a similar struggle again.

I’m a creative person, I see the advantage of a Mac. I want to edit video easily. I want to touch up pictures. I want my iTunes to work with my iPhone.

I know there are all kinds of people out there who will tell me absolutely to get a Mac. I have to think about it but I’d say there’s a good chance my next computer will be an Apple product.

My Great Grandma

They say some of the best ways to pass down stories is to tell them. I got to thinking about my great grandma Schorle the other day. I had the privilege of knowing her well into my teenage years before she passed away. Of course, that’s both happy and sad but what she left with me is one of the greatest gifts of her, the memory of her.

We always used the side door, never the front. That was for visitors. We were family. That side door took you into the kitchen. It always smelled like coffee or some sort of baked goods. There was a distinct smell. You’d always find Pringles, Archway cookies and a loaf of bread sitting out on the counter, arranged nicely but in reach. If you were lucky, she’d have just made an apple pie. She also made rhubarb, but I’ve never had the taste for it. She’d make Maxwell House instant coffee. I always drank some with her. The first time I had brewed coffee, I told someone “This isn’t coffee!”

She quilted. You’d always find a quilt in the frame. You could check the progress each time you stopped into her house.

Grandma Schorle loved Euchre. She’d stay up weekend with a little rest here and there along with four of her girlfriends. She taught me the game and probably just about everyone of my relatives. Rummy wasn’t out of the question either. Alone, she’d play Solitaire.

The late morning and early afternoons were devoted to game shows and her “stories”. I’m sure I’ve admitted it elsewhere on this blog but here goes again. I still watch the “Young & the Restless” occasionally. It’s sort of my way to remember my great grandmother. I can still hear her questioning how certain characters could be so mean.

Speaking of which, she was the kind of woman who didn’t say anything bad about anyone else. Believe me, as a teenager, I tried. There’s no exaggeration there, if she had a bad thought about someone, she kept it to herself. “If you don’t have something good to say….”

I still miss her, although I know I’m not the only one in our family. She was a true matriarch.

The Plot To Keep Us Awake

Anyone who knows me knows I’m a techie kinda guy. I love my iPhone, constantly have a computer near me, revel in the DVR, could have kissed my Aunt Bertha* when I got my HDTV (she should be so lucky), has 2.5 computers (one is currently on the fritz).

The problem is everything has to have a light to show you it’s either on OR OFF. Why does it have to have a light showing you it’s not on? Seriously, in the living room in the dark, my TV has a lighted VIZIO logo that’s white when the TV is on and goes orange when it’s off. Then there’s the audio system that shines bright blue when it’s on but still shines out a red light when it’s in standby mode. There’s the HD-DVD player (yeah, I bought the wrong format) that has a red light around the power button that emits a light similar to a beacon at an airport. The DVR/cablebox shows the time in a eye-piercing shade of green. So let’s see, I’ve got orange, red, and green coming at me if I’m trying to get some winks in the living room. Of course if everything’s on, I’ve got blue, blue, white and green. Forget about lightbulbs, you can comfortably find your way around the room in the dark.

Don’t even get me started on the alarm clock by the bed, it’s lighted green and brightens up the room with a lot of candela. Is there a dimmer function for the display? Nope!

This is just a big conspiracy to make people stay awake. I mean, c’mon, help us out an allow us to dim those crazy displays and lights. We need the sleep. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

*there is no Aunt Bertha of whom to speak but I picture her fat, unmarried and wearing a big flowered dress, the kind you couldn’t find at Abercombie & Fitch or even a Dollar Store, she also has a mild but distinct odor about her. Get the picture?

The Great Phone Number Debate

or should I say “Should I change my phone number?”

Here’s the dilemma, I got this phone number that other people tell me text messages them and it’s not the nicest stuff in the world. Apparently, my phone number sends explicit picture text messages. For the record, it is not me who’s sending the pictures. Believe me, I get all of these unwanted text messages asking me about why I’m texting them. Again, for the record, I am not.

Sprint wasn’t able to help me with the problem. Now that I’m with AT&T, I’d hoped they might be able to give me some assistance. Nope. Sure, the technical people sounded like they could, they got my hopes up and then slammed them to the ground in a cold-hearted voicemail.

Their options for me, give them five bucks a month extra and they’d block the numbers from sending me text messages. Ah, no thanks… Option #2 is getting a new phone number. Seriously, after text messaging fights with people I don’t know about why I’m sending them text messages and pictures, I’m ready to give up my cherished phone number for another one.

Seriously, one of the battle of the texts ended with a phrase I’d never heard before. I wish for the life of me I could remember it because not even contextual clues could help me decipher it.

So, should I change my number, go through the hassle of letting everyone know about it or endure the hassle of getting these crazy text messages from these people who insist I’m sending them messages.

By the way, I’m totally getting a vanity phone number if I switch. C’mon 1-800-TAAWD!

My Confession

I have to admit it, I’ve joined the crowd of people who committed to working out, stuck to it, then lost it.

Breaking my heel contributed to my lack of working out, yeah, that’s the ticket, I broke my heel so I can’t work out.

So, now I’m determined to get back into the routine and losing some of my flab and gaining back some of the unbelievable good body that I once had. I’m sure you’re thinking I’m joking… Well, I am.

So I’ve been good about getting a good workout in at least twice a week. Thankfully the gym has Precor ellipticals. I can’t stand the machines that has the ski-like arms that swing back and forth at you. It makes me dizzier than I already am.

So now, it’s all about working off all of those scrum-delicious McDonald’s breakfasts that I crave every morning when I leave work. It’s time to work off all of that delectable Mexican food. All of that yummy pasta that my girlfriend makes. I need to work off that “I’m comfortable in my relationship weight”. I don’t want to lose her, I gotta look good.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not some fatty, I just need to drain some of that baby fat out of my face and a little bit of the freshman 15 out of my mid section. I’ve done it before I’ll do it again… so there!

You: “Which way to the beach?”
Me: “Over there…” {arm flexed to show the puny muscle I already have developing}

My Memory

I’m officially getting old.

No, it’s not the fact that my hair is retreating from the crown of my head faster than Michael Phelps can swim.

No, it’s not because my get up and go, done got up and went.

No, it’s not because just looking at a baked potato can add a couple of pounds to my belly.

I know I’m getting old because my memory isn’t what it once was.

Now, before you advise me to opt for Alzheimer’s testing, I just can’t remember some of the people who I went to school with. I blame Facebook for making this fact clear to me. Of course, the site wants to suggest friends to me. A lot of the people it suggests went to high school around the same time I did but dang if I can’t recall half of them.

How do I know they’re the right people? The classmates who I do recall are mutual friends with them. It’s infuriating! The conspiracist in me thinks someone (or facebook) is making these people up and using stock photos of them. They’re so close to people who I would otherwise know. I never knew a “Richard” but I did know a “Rick”. Why would you go back to “Richard” when everyone knows you as “Rick” It’s confusing to me. Maybe this is all a game like the “Truman Show.”

I can recall being a kid and flipping through my mother’s yearbook and quizzing her on people. As I remember, she didn’t do half bad identifying some of the people but she couldn’t remember all of them. You know, it’s like being on Price Is Right and stopping just short of winning the Showcase Showdown. That sort of thing. I would always say “Mom, how can you forget someone who you went to school with?” She said “Just wait, you’ll see.” Mom, I see…

I also recently had a friendly argument with my sister about one former classmate’s identity. I don’t know why I questioned her, she’s like a living, walking diary of our childhood. I swear she could tell you what I was wearing on October 15, 1988. I’m sure it was cool, by the way. I got the last name confused with another guy with the same first name. Oh, I’m a genius alright and I’m sure my sister took a little stock (albeit GM) in knowing she was right.

I’m not happy having the problem of not remembering people. It just ain’t right. I mean c’mon, I’m not that old but the memory isn’t as sharp, OR maybe it’s just that I have so much MORE to remember. Yeah, that’s the ticket! But in this dome, you’d think I’d still have plenty of space left. It’s kinda like forgetting phone numbers, isn’t that what your cell phone is for? It’s like having a spare hard drive off your main computer. It doesn’t keep the brain on its toes though.

I blame cell phones. I blame Facebook. Of course, I don’t blame me…

Am I Blogworthy?

I’m becoming a real blogging loser.

I used to write a blog about every day, now, not so much.

I have a wealth of topics I want to blog about, it’s just getting them down on paper (ahem, the Internet)

So, in the spirit of getting back into the spirit of posting, I have some exciting news. Well, it’s exciting news for me.

I tossed out my e-mail to get invited by Google for their new “Voice” internet service. It boasts calling one number for everything. I got a vanity number which I’m not going to post here, right now. I’ll be checking it out and seeing how it works.

Soon, you’ll have an easy to remember number where you can call me. Long distance isn’t a concern anymore right? Don’t worry, it’s not from China or anything.

Have a great day!