How "Incredibly" Unproductive of Me

In the "Obvious Statement of the Year" category, the winner would have to be something like, "Bejeweled Blitz is a time-sucking productivity leech." Does that stop me from having the picture below to show you? Of course not!


See what I mean? The one telling statistic is that I have been playing this game for a total of one entire work week. Others might say that the telling statistic is that even though I have played one entire work week, I still have a high score that could probably be called pedestrian. And by "others", I mean my wife, who has absolutely obliterated my highest score EVER on this fracking game.

My only possible defense here is simple—the developers of the iPhone version of the game are really nice! Think about it, you're playing your little game and make a few nifty moves when, all of a sudden, a deep, male (and genuinely sincere sounding) voice says things like "Excellent!" or "Incredible!". Now, you've just been validated for all of your hard "work". And it feels good. Therein lies the addiction. Not only is the gameplay maddeningly impossible to leave alone, but it builds up your (game-addiction depleted) self-esteem.

However, there are always caveats and gotchas to every feel good story. And Bejeweled Blitz has plenty. For one, Mr. Validation isn't always on my side. He's also somewhat finicky. Less than a minute after doling out the attaboys and accolades comes the alarms of impending doom. Right about this time, the same moves that received praise just moments before are met with cold silence. Sometimes, I think I can even sense a tinge of sarcasm in his voice when he is finally pressed into saying something—anything. I wouldn't be surprised to hear his "Incredible!" followed by a hushed "Even a blind squirrel can find a nut once in a while". Or "It's about time, monkey-boy".

Nevertheless, I play on. And will keep it up until Mr. Validation starts spewing outright insult at me. Who am I kidding? Even then, I'll still keep on playing. At least until I can best at least one of my wife's high scores on this stupid game...or even get just one more "Excellent!"

It's Idol Time!

So, there is one thing you must know about me...I love, love, LOVE American Idol. This is a problem that I have every year come January. I.just.can't.stop. I say it's a problem, but not really. Like all other guilty pleasures in your life, they wouldn't be so if they weren't, you know, pleasurable.

So, tonight's the night. The first night. This is also the first night that we have the judging tandem that is Steve-Lo replacing the carousel of Kara-Painkiller-Simon that we've had to deal with for the past couple of years.

I'm actually watching it now and already have some initial reactions: One, Randy is still annoying, dawg. Two, we're still taking too fracking long to get things going. It took them 13 minutes to get to the first audition. Sheesh! Three, J-Lo is already a less inebriated, but just as annoying Paula. And Four, I think Steven Tyler is an epic win. Also, Seacrest is still tiny...and very wealthy. Of course, I reserve to be absolutely wrong about all of this as soon as tomorrow morning. So, we'll see.

So, that's about it for now. Hopefully, I'll get a running diary going one of these shows.

Until then...Seacrest out.

Hijacked: the real taking over the unreal

There's a site I visit every day—lamebook.com. I can spend hours on this site at any given moment because of the absolutely insane things people put on their favorite social network. There's the too much informations, the typos, epic wins, and my favorite of all...the hijacked status.

I think we've all had this at some point or another. We innocently post a comment or status update and, before we know it, our status has been hijacked and turned into something aberrantly foreign to its initial intent. A post about doorknobs turns into and anti-war discussion. Posting a favorite scripture turns into a theological smack-down with no winners and spiritually bloodied noses. Annoying as it may be to some, I derive loads of fun when I see stuff like this. There's something tangible and truly conversational about it. In an online world dominated by quickie blips and blurbs that rarely delve deeper than the shallow and superficial, the hijack allows our social-media life to become as close to the real thing as possible.

Hijack away, I say. Let's do our best to go deeper—to gravitate towards real and normal conversations. Let's go back to that front porch landscape dotted with interjections and rabbit trails and red herrings and just good ol' fashioned (and sometimes rudely funny) interruptions, for crying out loud. And, while you're at it, laugh a little and enjoy the moments when your neatly contained cyberspace is inhabited by the unpredictable humanity of us just being us. And read this for a glimpse at one of my all time favorites. I really don't think you'll be disappointed.

I resolve...

New Year's resolutions have never been that appealing to me. I don't blame anyone for making (or breaking) them, but I just haven't ever been a fan. I suppose if I had to narrow it down, my resolution list would look something like this: somehow, understand more of God's love for me as well as assure that my wife is loved more than ever and my children are confident that they are loved above all else. Nothing else really matters, does it?

Sure, there are other things that I want—those 30 pounds won't disappear on their own. I guess I should at least exert some sort of effort there. Organization, simplification, guitar playing...all noble quests indeed. You could argue that I should drop those pounds and pick up that guitar and pick up all the other crap I leave around the house, while I'm at it...and you'd be right. Here's what I say, "OK...I'll try."

But, my resolve? My resolution is simple—I resolve to be a God-child...and a husband...and a dad. Those three occupy my time, effort and focus in the next year or two or sixty. Anything else is just gravy. Mmm...gravy.