I’m not on the cutting edge of technology. I’m more like the grandpa you have that still watches Ed Sullivan reruns on his giant console TV with the VCR that the family gave him sitting on top still in the box. My picture taking has been limited by Mrs. F’er since I lack digital camera skills. The plethora of dials and buttons frightens and confuses me. I feign blindness and walk into street signs when strangers on the street offer me their camera and ask if I can take their picture. My pick up truck has a cassette player, and only because the 8-track option was unavailable on the 1999 models. I’m the only one on the train that isn’t rocking out with an iPod, and I get icy stares from other passengers when I get on with a jam box on my shoulder loaded up with Run-DMC’s greatest hits. It’s nothing to be proud of, and I envy all of you that have figured out how to make popcorn in the microwave while I have to build a campfire every time I want a tasty handful of Jiffy Pop.
But things are about to change. I lost the rabbit ear antenna for the TV during the move and was forced to sign up for something called DirectTV. It also came with something called a DVR which I understand is something like a VCR except you can’t get fined if you forget to rewind the tape. I’ve been practicing with it and spent my entire holiday weekend watching multiple episodes of Full House. Not because I wanted to, but somehow I programmed it only to record shows with John Stamos or Bob Saget. Like I said, I’m practicing. But with any luck and some help from the Mrs., I think I might be able to record the upcoming season of Rock Star. Last season, I didn’t have a DVR, but instead had to rely on my crack staff of pre-schoolers to finger paint storyboard summaries of each episode and my own hastily scribbled and subsequently illegible notes. It was all that I could afford with last year’s Leper Pop budget.
I was even going to do some research this year and paid a shoeshine boy on the corner for an annotated myspace listing of all this season’s contestants, but haven’t had time to look at them. I’ve been busy at work teaching basic communication skills to summer interns who seem to enjoy answering the phones in a language they call IM. Then when they go home at 5:30, I can start my work. Back in Texas, I never did learn the native language of that state and found it difficult to make friends with the locals, so I had plenty of time to play with internets. Now I’m back in Chicago with friends that are usually too drunk to remember that I annoy them and with family members that want to make up for 14 years I was gone by stuffing me with massive portions of polish sausage and pierogies. It’s all put a dent in my quality time with my dear readers – all four of you – but Rock Star is starting this week, and we’ll get together then, son. You know we’ll have a good time then.
Two days, baby. Cover me in marshmallow fluff and bring it on.