there's a new feature through Rogers that allows caller ID to display on the TV when somebody calls. it caught me by surprise when cricket called and a box with her name on it suddenly superimposed itself over Peyton Manning.
this will probably pave the way for further phone/tv integration. my remote may soon double as a phone. i know this technology already exists (is there an app for that?), but Rogers may spring it upon me unexpectedly. if you see me talking to my remote (or, more worryingly, listening to it) don't judge.
google maps street view has finally come to london. the first thing i did, naturally, was look for our place of residence. one of our cars is there. the other one is floating around the city somewhere, probably in a parking lot far from the prying lenses of the google car.
speaking of the prying lenses of the google car...
there was snow in texas. there's no snow here. north of the border. i guess we're also east and west of the border too. southern ontario pokes far into the upper mid-west united states in what appears to be an awkward and uncomfortable manner (similar to the awkward and uncomfortable manner florida hovers over cuba).
OF COURSE the one week i put Chris Chambers into my starting line-up is the one week he only has two receptions for 11 yards. in my line-up he replaced Roddy White, who today had 104 receiving yards and a touchdown. let me tell you how much i suck at fantasy football.
blog updates: best albums of the decade, #80-#71 #70-#61
i promised Regan a CD. she gave me a topic/theme i soon learned was virtually impossible. i sent her an apologetic FB message. here is that apologetic FB message.
re: that cd i was going to make you months ago...
i haven't forgotten about it. i promise.
after months of speculating, soul-searching, considering theological considerations, and scouring/re-scouring my lame music library, it turns out i have no blinking clue as to what Jesus would dance to.
there were just too many questions i couldn't answer. or maybe i could answer them, but i wasn't prepared to do that much research. or maybe i was prepared to do the research, but it would beg more questions and the cycle would never end.
first of all, there is the definition and purpose of "dance." the whys more so than the hows. is it a response? a display? an avenue of worship? to Himself? or to God, who is also kind of Himself?
secondly, there is the issue of what would qualify to the Son as good music. He is seated at the right hand of God where heavenly hosts present to Him the best music ever conceived in the history of forever-ago and forever-will-be. and i am convinced he would be unimpressed with any combination of guitars and drums and moogs produced on earth.
thirdly, and more importantly, there is intent. He is certainly able to be impressed with the heart and motivation of any particular piece, possibly enough to bust a move. good music, in His eyes/ears (i speculate), is not dependent on what is heard but what is meant. but where is that line of sincerity? if an atheist sings Handel's "Messiah" it may sound worshipful, but what was the intent? and is the illusion of worship from the source a boundary to actual worship from the recipient?
fourthly, do these songs need to be overtly worshipful for Jesus to gleam something dance-worthy from them? this reverts back to the first questions i had regarding what it means to dance. it is understandable for Jesus to be pleased with songs exalting the Father. but what about music rejoicing in God's glorious creation? there is tremendous beauty in nature, in science, in the complexities of humankind and human-nature. the book of Psalms touts the excellence of God's creation. would songs about creation (when they are a positive reflection of the Creator) move Jesus? like, physically?
so as i went song-by-song asking myself if Jesus would dance to this, my answer was usually "i don't know." actually, it was usually "no" since there's a lot of songs about breaking up with girls on my computer. but other than that i just didn't know. and i grew hesitant of trying out of fear of misrepresenting the Lord's intent. unless He specifically tells me what's up, i can't claim to know what He thinks.
i apologize that i can't make you your CD. i tried, but it's too hard. i don't know that you anticipating bringing me so weighty a topic. it sure seemed easy at first...
i even had a clever title picked out for it. "WWJD2" (What Would Jesus Dance To"). yeah?
so i'll give you two options: 1) you can think up a different mix topic, or 2) i'll just burn you a christmas CD.
thanksgiving was delicious and fun. friends + food + football = Tri-F-fecta or something like that.
canadians celebrate theirs in october. 'mericans, of course, celebrate in november. i celebrate them both, just because i can. just because i'm a glutton.
housekeeping tip: put an unused dryer sheet in the trash can. it will help reduce the garbagey stench of your garbage. scented ones work the best.
even though he died 112 years ago, Old Hoss Radbourn has somehow made his way to twitter. his tweets are the best thing i've read in a while. samples:
Hoss hated working in my pappy's butcher's shop on Black Friday. Keeping up with demand was a nightmare. 80% off on tripe - too popular.
A feller once cried "booya!" when striking me out. When I expressed displeasure, he called me a "hater." Hoss promptly shot at him.
In my day "hot stove chatter" meant fevered discussion about which players you hoped would not return maimed from off-season wars. An "Eggo shortage"? Land alive. I once saw a food shortage. Had to boil my shoes. An Eggo shortage is a public health benefit.
...and on and on. his sponsor message on his baseball-reference page is also amazing. the real-life Radbourn was just as awesome. here he turns a boring old team photo... ...into the first ever photograph of a flipped bird. i may have a new favorite 19th century baseball player.
music blog updates: i'm counting down my 110 favorite albums of the decade. i chose 110 because i couldn't decide on 100. #110-#101 #100-#91 #90-#81
i hope you hate everything on this list. it ups my scene cred.
i had always thought Russ Columbo sang the song "Guilty", which appears on the Amelie soundtrack. i thought this for years. it turns out that particular version was recorded by Al Bowlly in 1931. now i feel terrible about disseminating misinformation. Guilty, as it were.
it should have been obvious. Columbo sounds like an early Bing Crosby. Bowlly sounds completely different, his high voice tinnily distorted by lo-fi Vitaphone records.
both Columbo and Bowlly died relatively young and somewhat bizarrely. Bowlly, on April 17, 1941, had just finished a performance in England and returned to his home in London. later, a parachute mine dropped by the Germans exploded above his flat. the concussion killed him.
Columbo's death was quite a bit more interesting. on September 2, 1934, while at the home of photographer Lansing Brown, Brown lit a match against an antique French pistol, or tried to light the match with the pistol, or something equally as stupid. naturally the pistol fired. naturally it was loaded. and naturally the lead ball ricocheted off of a table and went through Columbo's eye, getting lodged in the back of his brain. he was not okay.
Columbo's story doesn't end there. his mother was in poor health at the time, and rather than tell her that her son had been killed, his friends told her he was fine and traveling the world. she was informed that her son had sneaked away to marry Carole Lombard, and as Lombard traveled Europe Columbo's mother was sent gifts and wires and postcards in both Carole and Russ' name. these were all fabricated, of course, and the ruse was maintained until Mother Columbo died ten years later.
if you're looking for celebrity scandals in Hollywood during the 1920s and 1930s (the golden age of Hollywood scandals, possibly) you don't really have to look far. Fatty Arbuckle, much? Jean Harlow, much? Rudolph Valentino's doctors wouldn't even tell him that he days away from death.
oh, sweet sordidness.
it's not like today's actors and singers are messed up or anything...
i like pre-dawn driving. PRE-pre-dawn driving, even. 3:00am to 5:00am is the best. the roads are clear, and the few drivers out there at that time are outstandingly brazen. running red lights, running stop signs, doubling the speed limit, driving on the wrong side of the road. ... okay, maybe that last one is just me. but it's like a secret nighttime driving club. the roads are wide open, and people just need to get where they're going. no on-the-way errands, just destinations. and everybody gives everybody else a wide berth. even during road races. not that i'd ever road race, especially if i'm driving the Escort. if you dropped it out of an airplane it might max out at 55 mph.
anyway, if you're having a fit of insomnia, or you want to be at work REALLY early, i'd recommend checking out wee-hour city street culture.
i am probably obliged to say something about the 2009 World Series. there have been 105 World Series. the Yankees have played in 40 of them. domination is one thing, but domination over a hundred-year period is quite another. second-most is the St. Louis Cardinals. they've been to 17 World Series. Phillies have been to seven. they've won only two. better factoid for the Phils: it's been eight years since a team made back-to-back World Series appearances. the last one, of course, were the 00-01 Yankees.
as far as the 09 Series, Chase Utley hit too many home runs (5, tying Reggie Jackson's WS record), but he was countered by Ryan Howard who whiffed too many strikeouts (13, setting the WS record). the equilibrium of sucktitude was maintained, and NY won it in six games (as wishy-washily predicted by myself -- i called it in "six or seven").
go to the Body Shop and buy some hand cream or something. a portion of the proceeds of certain products goes to Stop Sex Trafficking. pertinent information. human trafficking, for sex or otherwise, is a for-real problem, even in North America. especially in North America as most people assume it doesn't really exist here. it does exist. quite enormously. cricket could rattle off some stats if you ask her nicely.
i want to do more. i want to turn into Liam Neeson in the movie "Taken" and kill absolutely everybody. trafficking is one of the worst things i can think of, and i am not afraid to freaking murder somebody for perpetuating that crap.
...which is why organizations like these work together to formulate more effective solutions.
also, i do not have a very particular set of skills. skills i have not acquired over a very long career. skills that won't make me a nightmare for people like you. i will look for you. i will find you. and i will probably accidentally shoot myself in the face.
retail, retail, retail... chicken catcher?
before becoming a manager, Joe Torre was a catcher in the 1960s. Bobby Bragen, a Braves manager at the time, once said, "I can't understand why he hasn't been nicknamed 'Chicken.' Don't you get it? Chicken Catcher Torre?"
