Since the mall is playing really bad versions of Christmas carols over a low-fidelity speaker hanging from ceiling tiles, it’s time for a little Friday feel-good music. From 2011, here is Armin van Buuren teamed up with Nadia Ali and “Feels So Good”.
I’m a big fan of Nadia Ali’s vocals and Armin’s production on this track and the video has a sexy vibe that I thoroughly enjoy as well, though I’m always a sucker for sexy spies in formalwear.
This morning that has been much rejoicing on the internet because Google Maps has returned to the iPhone. I have never really been a fan of GPS devices or GPS programs. I find people’s reliance on these devices to be somewhat disconcerting. During a conversation with a sales clerk several years ago, she mentioned that she had recently moved to the Syracuse area from Arizona. Curious, I asked which way she came across the country. Even more curious was her response, “I’m not sure, I just followed the GPS all the way, but I’m pretty sure I went through Idaho or maybe Oregon.”
Ok, then.
Even though I’m not a fan of the GPS devices (because I think that one should have the skills of map reading), we still use them from time to time to navigate where we need to go, especially when we are in an unfamiliar place. During our vacation last week we tried to use Apple Maps on Earl’s iPhone 4S to navigate from the rental car lot to Interstate 45. Siri announced that we should turn right, which would have taken us up an “Authorized Vehicles Only” road, through a chain link fence, across an active runway (as indicated by the Airbus that was landing), through another chain link fence and eventually onto Interstate 45.
I’m happy that I didn’t blindly follow the GPS directions.
All of that being said, I have to admit that Google Maps does a pretty spiffy job of providing navigational aid. I have never tried their public transit directions because we don’t really have public transit in Upstate New York, but I do like the clear, concise directions given when behind the wheel. I don’t find Ms. Google to be annoying and I’m happy that she is able to live within the confines of my ancient iPhone 4, a phone that Apple has deemed not worthy to house Siri.
I hear that the Google Maps experience on the iPhone now surpasses the experience on Google’s own Android OS devices. I find this interesting. I have found the experience on both platforms to be quite nice for GPS applications, so I have to say that I recommend anyone with an iPhone to download the app as soon as you can. Until Apple gets their crap together (and out of the airfield), we’ll just have to find our way courtesy of Google Maps.
So I was looking for something that was like a chip but didn’t come loaded with the calories and fat content of a chip or crisp. Since we won’t talk about that experiment with Olestra again, I decided to do some research in the local market and picked myself up a bag of PopChips. I decided to go with the Barbecue flavor for my initial outing.
Oh. My. God.
PopChips are like potato chips (or crisps) except that they’re cooked via hot air instead of being baked or fried. There’s hardly any fat in them and they’re only 100 calories per bag.
They are perfection with my lunch!
Since I always do things to extremes, I purchased a case of PopChips in a variety of flavors and had them delivered via Amazon. Earl doesn’t care for them that much (“don’t be finicky my husband, it’s PopChips!”) which is fine by me because that means they’ll be ready and waiting when I want them.
I mention them today because I thought that the case I bought had three flavors in it: Original, Barbecue and Sour Cream ‘n Onion. I was wrong. There are SIX flavors in this case and the back row includes: Cheddar Potato, Salt ‘n Pepper and Sea Salt and Vinegar.
Can I hear a “w00t!” Da hell with that can I hear an “Amen!”
I think the Amazon purchase has followed its natural progression to an Amazon subscription where I automatically get a case delivered once a month. How I love that subscription service. We just need to add a warehouse onto the back of the house to store all our goodies.
If you’re looking for a moderately healthy snack to satisfy that potato chip (or crisp) craving, I highly recommend PopChips.
Earl and I have been together for over 1 1/2 decades. We have had joyous times, we’ve had sad times, we are there for each other, through thick and thin, for better or for worse and all of that stuff. We’ve been through two house purchases, built a business together, killed a business together and are able to finish each other’s sentences without an issue. However, there is one important part of our relationship that we struggle with.
We both think we know how to put lights on the Christmas tree. In fact, we each know how to do this. And the struggle is, the other one does it wrong.
This is one of the primary dangers of a marriage of two gay men. Those that dabble in the stereotypical aspects of the homosexual path have a certain eye or flair when it comes to things like decorating. There’s a really good chance that not just one but both members of the relationship have been the “designated one” for Christmas light installation whilst growing up. I know that I was the one that put up the Christmas lights outside every year. I rearranged them on a nightly basis after school. Every time my mother drove into town I asked her to pick up another 35-count set of “Merry Midget” lights. The meter on the electric pole by the driveway spun so hard the wires to the road quivered. I timed the blinking lights on the Christmas tree perfectly.
The issue is, Earl did the same thing growing up.
Imagine the conflict when we realized that while we both had the same goal with our festive lighting practices, we did it in completely opposite ways.
Earl starts at the top of tree. I start at the bottom, at the spot closest to the wall outlet.
Earl puts the tree topper on first. I shriek at such a thought.
Earl lights to use the last strand of lights to fill in random places throughout the tree that might be devoid of light. I maintain a symmetry of having the lights weave in and out in a parallel, yet suggestively random pattern.
You can just imagine the horror I felt back in 1996 when we went to decorate our first tree together and he put the star on the top first. The crabby woman that lived under our apartment had to bang on the ceiling with her cane because we were yelling so much.
I have learned to take a deep breath when it’s time for this annual practice but I refuse to give in completely. I claim ownership of the ladder and I’m not coming down until I am satisfied with the installation of the lights. As we grow older things have mellowed out a bit. What used to involve yelling and huffing and puffing has been reduced to an occasional glare and the sneaky practice of making sure the light strands remain parallel (please don’t tell him), despite his attempts to go all over the place with that last set of lights.
I did give in a little bit and ended the practice of having the Merry Midgets blink. No one accuse me of not having the holiday spirit, after all.
I like to think that this season of Good Tidings brings out the best in people. One would hope that people would always try to be their best, but every day is a different day and this time of the year is when we really hope that every day is a good day. With the warm greetings in the spirit of the holiday, one of the last things a person should worry about is whether their well-intended words are being offensive.
I’m talking about the phrase “Merry Christmas.”
Now, I’m not a religious man. To be quite honest, I’m thankful that a church doesn’t go up in flames when I walk into it. So these thoughts are not coming from a Christian point of view. They’re coming from a human point of view.
I bristle when I see “Christmas” abbreviated to “Xmas”. I have to say that I find “Xmas” to be indicative of one of two things: 1. the writer is exceedingly lazy or 2. the writer is placing his or her beliefs ahead of the sentiment that they’re trying to express by wishing someone a “Merry Xmas”. The sentiment they are conveying is secondary to their personal needs. A conditional tiding, if you will.
Now, not many people are going to agree with me on this. Some are going to cling to their non-religious ways and that’s perfectly fine. If you choose not to believe in anything other than the here and now, I am perfectly fine with that. Some are going to proclaim, “Jesus is the reason for the season!!”, which personally I don’t believe per se, but I do believe the spirit of Jesus Christ’s teachings are appropriate here. If you choose to believe that I am going straight to hell after I take my last breath, based on what you read in a book, well quite frankly I’m fine with that too. You believe what you believe and I believe what I believe and all is well in good. If your well wishes and holiday greetings are complete and coming from the heart, I don’t care if you choose to worship a dishwasher.
But conveying the spirit of the holidays through words, whether it be Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Joyous Solstice or whatever, in my opinion should be given completely, without abbreviations. If you don’t believe in the Christ part of Christmas, then wish others a Happy Holidays. If you find writing or typing the entire word to be time consuming or exhausting, give out a lukewarm handshake or a friendly pat on the head instead.
But please don’t abbreviate the spirit of the holidays. Lord knows we need all the good tidings we can get these days.
So Earl and I are back to the work grind today after our vacation in Houston and New Orleans. I stepped on the scale yesterday morning and discovered that I maintained my own during our getaway and this was encouraging. I keep worrying about exercise and working right, but everything is still according to plan so I feel really good to go. Tonight we’ll be back to the gym for the first time in almost two weeks.
I am trying really hard to maintain the relaxed feeling I had over vacation during my day at work today. I had over 1000 emails awaiting my delete button when I started up my computer this morning and to keep it interesting, the folks in IT were kind enough to migrate my account to a new server (which we now outsource, apparently) and that process added to the merriment by including emails I had deleted way back to August, so the 1000 or so new emails had a few hundred others around to make the crowd of messages seem more lively.
All in all, though, the morning has been good and I’m getting done what needs to be done. I was happy to note that my iced tea was waiting for me at Dunkin’ Donuts just a few moments ago. It’s the little things that count.
After returning from vacation I always feel extra philosophical. It was back in 2004 or so that I raised my hands on Interstate 40 outside of Oklahoma City (we were in the Jeep and the top was off) and I yelled to the world that I was going to find a new job; two months later I was in a new job. I tend to reevaluate my life path after a vacation and today is no different. I’m pretty happy with where things are and it would be chilly to take the top off the Jeep in December so I don’t have any grand declarations to make. Overall life is good as we get back to the daily grind.
Let’s see if I can keep this kick backed attitude through the holidays.
Just a guy with a husband. We’ve been together 28 years and he still makes me see fireworks on a daily basis. Hiker. Storm Chaser. Private Pilot. Tech Guy. Hackerish.
Weird? Eccentric!
