I Hope I'm Not Licorice

Today I wondered what life would be like if I were a jelly bean. How would I know what I tasted like? How would I go about discovering what my taste was? After all, I would have no mouth, no tongue to sample any of my fruity, sugary goodness. And, as we all know, there are spice flavored jelly beans, popcorn flavored jelly beans, and thanks to the Harry Potter juggernaut, even vomit flavored jelly beans. How do I know I'm not one of those repulsive flavors?

In some way, this might be an interesting metaphor for life and how we as humans try to justify our existence by giving ourselves purposes like goals and dreams or imagine some other omnipotent celestial being imparting purpose on us. On the other hand, it's really only a stupid thought that someone might have while trapped in the sticky throes of boredom.

No matter what flavor I am, it doesn't change the fact that we hit a huge pothole last night with our car, more specifically, the left front wheel. When I say "hit", I mean it. It was the kind of impact where you'll take the first opportunity to pull off of the road and inspect the inevitable damage, which we did. The edge of the wheel was actually bent. Bent, I say! So, in the middle of a large rain storm, we put the donut on once more, not a month after we did exactly the same thing on our return trip to Chicago from holiday vacation.

As it turns out, and thankfully so, the only real damage that occurred was that topical damage to the wheel which was fixed free of charge this morning by our regular garage. Aesthetically, the car sort of lost a visible tooth. The wheel cover no longer fits on the wheel because of the trauma it sustained. The plastic is now gouged and warped beyond hope. But, in the grand scheme of things, a wheel cover is a small thing, especially when we considered that we only have about two more years with this car, speaking realistically. By that time, we'll be approaching the 200K mile mark, and at that point, I would think that the car's retirement might be in order.

Welcome to Your New Home

Happy holidays to everyone. Amy and I are currently spending some time with our families during all of the annual events that are normally a part of this time of year. We delayed our travel home by one day due to the massive snow storm that swept across Indiana and Ohio on the 23rd. It was a wise decision because we saw many stranded vehicles in the median as we travelled east on I-80.

Things in our home town haven't changed much beyond the normal superficial alterations. Businesses have opened and closed, more people have moved into its borders, roads have been paved(!), but under the surface it's mostly the same place that we left a few years ago. Considering that assumption, I'm not sure how some people spend their entire lives in the same area. Nobody in my family avoided moving around the country to some extent whether that move was a few counties or a few states away and I am no exception. I very much enjoy living in Chicago and if the day comes when we are forced to leave, it will not be without some amount of disappointment.

Currently listening to: Pearl Jam, Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town

Barney Bestows Blessing

I received a very fine compliment last week about my work from someone who has never even met me in person. Before I actually reveal the compliment itself, however, a very brief background summary is necessary. I am currently working on a small three button book under the Barney moniker. How one manic, morbidly obese purple dinosaur can inspire so much hatred in anyone over the age of 11 is quite inspiring and I must say, a singular accomplishment. Kudos to you, Barney. But, I digress.

As I mentioned, this book is a three button book which carries with it certain implications that may not be clear to the children's licensed-character-we-own-it-and-all-its-subsidiary-rights literature layman. The book has three buttons (obviously), each of which play one unique sound that corresponds to each unique page of the book indicating that in this particular case, the book contains three pages. Now, one page in this particular genre is actually two pages in most books oriented at adults and is usually referred to in the buisness as a 'spread'. All of the content on the spread such as the art, the text, and the legal information, which may or may not in the distant future be construed as a strange version of punctuation, is contained in the spread. I've always felt that the term 'spread' carries its own implications, as if the timeless, noble notion of the book is somehow whoring itself out to the likes of ephemeral distractions for children, but again I digress.

So the book contains three spreads, which does not leave a whole lot of room for things like character development, conflict, or denouement. In other words, this is not a deep examination of Barney's psychological turmoil set against the backdrop of a post-industrial social struggle. It is in fact, a short story where nothing much happens at all and as such, the sounds that were required of me were mostly of the straight-forward variety. However, upon my submission of the sounds to Barney's evil overlords, chaos ensued. To make a long story short, the overlords wanted voice-over on the buttons, but my company wasn't going to allow that. So, I have since submitted all three sounds a total of four times and each time the evil overlords reply that my sounds suck and that they want something better (in so many words, of course).

One of the sounds I had submitted was termed "happy walking music" by the editor of the project and I had done my best to deliver. I was quite happy with the short two second clip and thought that the overlords might have mercy on my aching eyes and wrist (because I work with audio on a computer, sicko) and approve of my work. Alas, they returned only with more rejection, but unbeknownst to them, it was as I have stated, the best compliment I have received in some time. Concerning my happy walking music, they complained that it "...sound[ed] more like Super Mario Bros. than Barney." Thank God my music sounds more like the theme from Super Mario Brothers, probably the most recognizable game song of all time, rather than whatever sappy, derivative garbage is being purveyed by Barney's creators. Thank you, oh evil overlords, for your gracious reply. My next sacrifice will be of even greater magnitude.

Currently listening to: Camper Van Beethoven, Tina

Merry Car-Xmas

Amy and I were returning home on Tuesday night last week when the "check engine" light on the dashboard winked on. We've had problems with the oil light flicking on and off intermittently so we waited a couple of days to see if this problem would also seem to lean towards electrical system failure rather than actual engine trouble. To keep this story concise, the light never went out so we took the car to the mechanic for a diagnostic test. As it turned out, the oxygen sensors had gone bad. For the mechanically inclined, I did indeed indicate more than one sensor. Also by chance, our car was manufactured in California where the emissions laws are more strict thereby requiring two oxygen sensors rather than one. So, all in all it was about $600 in wallet damage, which is still within our annual budget to keep the car running. But with Christmas on the way, that extra $600 does put a good-sized dent in our assets.

I wonder what my Christmas bonus will be. Possible enrollment in the jelly of the month club?

Currently listening to: Nullsleep, I Love U (...Both of U)