Midnight Musings

I watch too much tv. I know I do. But I do a lot of other things, also. Really. Granted, my full-time job is now only two days a week, but I'm much busier now than when I worked full-time. People ask me to do things for them, with them and/or to them. I have hobbies and household projects that I never had the time to devote to before that are now receiving my admittedly scattered attention. I have more time to cook, which thrills The Boy beyond words - when I'm home to do it, that is. And I watch tv while exercising, of course. (Sometimes, anyway.)

My latest pet peeve is the KIA commercial with the hamsters. Now, let me first say that I think hamsters are adorable, so it's not a personal grudge against fluffy rodents. I just have an issue with advertising that hasn't been well thought out, as you know. I liked the idea of the hamster in his wheel in the garage. He's clearly not going anywhere. Has anyone in the entire KIA advertising department ever owned a hamster? They have plastic balls which can roll independent of any frame. The occupant's little hamster spouse could possibly close the trap door behind them and off they'd go. I'm a generous person. I would have given them that. But whose idea was it to have a line of hamsters in wheels on the highway? How were they supposed to have gotten there? If they got that far, why didn't they reach their destination the same way? If the hamsters in the KIA had driven past the hamster in the garage, that would have been cute. But no, they had to milk the concept beyond its tiny limits and take it to a place where humor no longer exists. And, at an hour when things that are normally not funny are hilarious, that's a difficult place to find. So, from that perspective, I suppose congratulations are in order. They found it.

'night.

About "eye-catching" logos...wondering what kind of person would actually throw their eye in the hope that it would be caught. Shudder.

'night.

I don't know much about Hugh Laurie. I know he's got a great poker face and plays the piano. I also know he's British and does a fabulous American accent. What I never was able to figure out until watching a late-night rerun of House is that he bears a striking resemblance to the Grinch (of stealing Christmas fame). Nothing against Mr. Laurie - I think he's got great eyes (but then, so does the Grinch) and is a very believable actor. But he's looked familiar to me and I think it's the Dr. Seuss connection. He could probably do a mean imitation of Boris Karloff, too.

One of the commercial breaks (actually, MOST of the commercial breaks) included a Red Lobster ad for their endless shrimp. I just couldn't get past the visual. How do they catch these endless shrimp, much less cook them? And then eating them - how do you find the beginning of an endless shrimp? Talk about biting off more than you can chew!

'night

I was due for a new one and no one called to solicit my business. Maybe I was blacklisted from the last time? (See June 2006) So, I had to go to the website and upgrade myself. (What is this one-time upgrade fee? One time, every time, more like.) I ordered the phone and noted the two-day delivery time. When it didn't arrive as expected on Monday, I checked online on Tuesday and found that they needed further address info. I called and found that they did NOT need further info - the driver just couldn't find the address and hadn't bothered asking for help. So they mapquested me for him and the website later confirmed that he delivered it - to an address that doesn't exist. I called again and was told that they would check with the driver the NEXT day and call me in the morning. They did call - three times - just to say they were still looking into it. No results and, when I got home, still no package. I called a third time and she said the driver was on the road and she would call him right away. My doorbell rang about 10 minutes later and there stood an empty-handed delivery guy with his truck blocking traffic in the middle of my parking lot, telling me he'd already delivered it to the non-existent address. I asked if he would please retrieve it and he sighed loudly, rolled his eyes and said he'd already left a door tag and no one was home. (I think he wanted ME to go and get it. Nevermind that I had no idea where it was.) I asked where he'd left it and he told me the non-existent address ("not on this side - the OTHER side") and pointed to the next street over. As in, not my street. He actually argued with me that the package was misaddressed, but his office had already read off my correct address when I called the first time. So he left and came back with the package, saying, "The people already opened it. Sorry. My mistake," handed me the opened box and left. The box was correctly addressed. He'd just misread it and decided on his own where to deliver it. Or maybe he wanted to keep it for himself.

I would like to take just a moment to pause and pay homage to the eternal struggle of pasta versus antipasta. Do they cancel each other out eventually? Does it matter how many support one side or the other, or who can remember how to spell correctly? I found the idea amusingly intriguing - or intriguingly amusing, which is harder to say and therefore my preference at this hour while trying to imagine what an actual antipasta would look like. It would probably have to be black, as much of our basic pasta is white in color. It couldn't have flour in it. It would have to have a strong smell. Maybe it would be a type of liquid that causes pasta to disintegrate once they come into contact. And the resulting ooze would be of such negative nutritional value that it would actually remove vitamins from anyone brave or foolish enough to actually consume it.

Antipasta - the ultimate answer to the carboholics' nightmare.

Speaking of night...'night. :)

My son and I were having a discussion and he deflected my statement. When I called him on it, his response was totally disarming - mostly because he answered me faster than he could think and came up with the most unexpected adjective. It came out this way: "I know, but does that make my argument any less...incomprehensible?" I loved it.

'night.

I was flipping through the channels looking at the synopses of various shows I was thinking about falling asleep on, when I saw something like this: "Kirk fights angry giants on a hostile planet while his crew argues bitterly with Spock." My son, whom I had just picked up from his night job and knows me annoyingly well, responded, "No! No way! We are NOT watching that!" Through my hysterical laughter, I cried, "But we have to! How can we not watch this? It's not only got giants, but angry giants. The planet is hostile. Even the crew is bitterly argumentative. It just screams late-night entertainment!" Apparently my hysteria wasn't entertaining enough for him and he insisted that we watch some iteration of CSI: Where Are You? (hoo-hoo, hoo-hoo) instead. I was doubly disappointed in him when I saw the Sci-Fi Channel's offering of a bloodthirsty monster created by a fusion of human genes and computer chips, burst out laughing and he said he wanted to watch that. What made this better viewing than hostile rocks and angry giants? You have to love the original Star Trek. If you're looking for a good gigglefest, it's got it all.

'night.

Have you seen those commercials with the people doing ridiculous things to compensate for the credit card rewards for which they haven't yet qualified? My favorite (a relative term?) is the one with the two cyclists and the guy pretending he has a bike. They all arrive in a clearing at the same time commenting on their enjoyment of the trip thus far and then one of them says, "Let's do it." The bike-free guy then hops up, runs a few steps and falls downhill, saying, "I'm good," from his faceplant. Does no one except me stop to wonder not only how this clown made it that far on foot but also how he kept up with his wheeled companions to this point?

Then there's the commercial that begins (in ominous voiceover), "From the mind of William Shatner...." I still have no idea what it is that Mr. Shatner's mind is spewing simply because just hearing that one line sends me into a fit of hysterical laughter. "From the mind of Stephen King..." was a truly ominous teaser for, "the most dangerous night of television". But William Shatner? The man who presided over the original Iron Chef America looking like an Elvis wannabe? The man who made the dramatic pause into a comic art form? I believe he's contributed to many a Star Trek novel and even came up with a television series that starred someone other than himself. (Trek Wars? Something like that.) It's this kind of programming that puts the Sci-Fi Channel in the same category as Comedy Central, except that it is cleaner and...less dangerous. Which is a good thing.

'night.

Well, I sort of can. I am a Literacy Volunteer and have helped people as a tutor. But it is this type of grammatical issue that would put me at odds with any educational administration, especially so if they are as poorly-educated as I am afraid is the case.

Why is evitable not a commonly used word, as inevitable is? My son tried the example of paired versus impaired but I've heard the word paired quite often, although not as an antonym to impaired. Then we moved onto inconceivable, which makes me laugh every time I hear it used as an exclamation almost every time I hear it, thanks to The Princess Bride, arguably one of the most fun, oft-quoted movies of all time. My son just looked at me when I asked him if he laughs, too. I think he does but is afraid to admit it. It's not as if I would publish it on the internet if he did.

'night.

We visited my 98-year-old grandmother this past weekend. She's deaf as a post but pretty sharp. A woman approached our table to solicit members for a family committee of some kind. She offered business cards to both my sister-in-law and me but not to my grandmother, who said, "Don't I get one?" The woman, after recovering from the shock of having my grandmother actually speak to her (as if a statue had suddenly come to life) asked, "Do you go to the computer room?" My grandmother responded (after I repeated the question in her ear), "Of course!" So, she was given a card and told she could contact them via the e-mail address or by telephone. When the woman walked away, I asked again, "You go to the computer room???" I had a hard time envisioning my grandmother sitting in front of the monitor and surfing the web for knitting supplies, but it would have been fun to see her using e-mail. She said, "Yes, I do." I asked what she did with the computer. With a perfectly straight face, my grandmother sniffed, "I look at it." What a riot. She couldn't care less about the computer, but she knows where it is. Gotta love her.