With the fear of sounding too Seinfeld-esc, "What's the dealllllll with music videos these days?"
I mean, I have real questions. Do music videos exist solely on Youtube now, or are there music video television stations still? Usually when I start a piece with a question like this, I already know the answer. But in this case, I sincerely don't know the place of the music video in 2015. I do know that they no longer exist on MTV, ironic considering the stations name, Music Television Network, implies it should still house these rare creatures.
If music videos are only on YouTube, which is where I find them, where is the revenue stream? These videos often cost large chunks of change to produce. Is that cost completely offset by advertising on the site? If so, damn. The world truly is a new frontier. If the costs aren't covered by ads, is the expense written off as advertising for the CD/mp3 release? Are mp3's still a thing? Do they sell downloads of the videos? So many questions. I just don't know.
It's unlike me to have fallen so far off the pace of a cultural phenomenon, and the result leaves me feeling ill at ease.
Straight Up Now Tell Me
Wednesday, March 18, 2015 | 0 Comment(s)
When I was growing up, everyone had pubic hair. This is a fact, not a commentary. And here is how I know.
When I was twenty years old I moved back to the kibbutz in Israel where I had spent my gap year between high school and college. It was great to be back. I felt deeply connected to the community I had formed at Kibbutz Kfar Hanasi, which lies atop a cliff in northern Israel. Getting the chance to work hard/play hard in Israel for one more summer was a gift I was unwrapping with great enthusiasm.
When I was twenty years old I moved back to the kibbutz in Israel where I had spent my gap year between high school and college. It was great to be back. I felt deeply connected to the community I had formed at Kibbutz Kfar Hanasi, which lies atop a cliff in northern Israel. Getting the chance to work hard/play hard in Israel for one more summer was a gift I was unwrapping with great enthusiasm.
And then there were the pub nights. The bi-weekly Tuesday and Friday night thrusts into inebriation and depravity. These nights at the kibbutz bar were where I first learned how to drink, and how not to drink -- I also found out the hard way that tequila is an angry dwarf who stabs your insides with a fiery blade. It was an educational time. Often these life lessons were taught in pairs. Lustful, sweaty, desperate pairs -- grasping at each others bodies like water in the desert.
Friday, March 6, 2015 | 0 Comment(s)
My morning was another worst fear realized. At least it cut down on my coffee intake. In brief:
My first duty in the morning, duty with a "t", is to feed the dogs their breakfast. The responsibility part of this task is often highlighted by 50 pounds of pit bull head being laid gently down atop mine. Hard to ignore a fuzzy beanbag yawning above you. Especially when it's licking you.
In order to effectively feed the dogs, my first activity is to head to the bathroom to wash the sleep out of my eyes and prevent missing a stair on my way down to the kitchen. With the frigidity of the current winter, this step also involves wrapping myself in my large fluffy bathrobe and slipping on my sensible around-the-house slippers.
Down the stairs I go, two high-stepping puppies at my heels, picking up the various dog toys and food ingredients used as part of the morning feeding routine. Once their meal is served, I get a brief 30 minutes to myself. I sidestep to the kitchen and pour myself a cup of coffee. Coffee is lifeblood. Coffee is the mother, the father, the innkeeper, and the holy ghost. I like coffee even more than I like turtles.
Thursday, March 5, 2015 | 0 Comment(s)
*As the son of parents that hail from New York City and Chicago, and being born in Massachusetts proper myself, "genetically" speaking I am a LA father away from being the worst possible bread of driver*
If you are headed to New England anytime soon, you should know that the residents of this land are contents under severe pressure -- ready to burst.
This winter has been absolutely brutal. It's been freezing, it's been snowy, it's been icy, and it's been windy. For months nows. The average resident is so sick and tired of winter weather, that even the occasional 40-degree day seems disastrous, with all its dirt-filled slush splashing up the sides of one's car and pant legs. For the next few weeks, the weather around here is a no win situation, a Catch-22. More snow and cold means ice and screaming at the sky. Warmth means flooding and run-off.
Take deep breathes. This weekend is the beginning of Daylight Saving Time: The literal light at the end of the tunnel.
I prefer to view early March as one last chance to permanently incorporate the driving lessons that Winter has attempted to impart on its denizens. What, you haven't taken NE Winter Driver's Ed? Here are the the highlights:
If you are headed to New England anytime soon, you should know that the residents of this land are contents under severe pressure -- ready to burst.
This winter has been absolutely brutal. It's been freezing, it's been snowy, it's been icy, and it's been windy. For months nows. The average resident is so sick and tired of winter weather, that even the occasional 40-degree day seems disastrous, with all its dirt-filled slush splashing up the sides of one's car and pant legs. For the next few weeks, the weather around here is a no win situation, a Catch-22. More snow and cold means ice and screaming at the sky. Warmth means flooding and run-off.
Take deep breathes. This weekend is the beginning of Daylight Saving Time: The literal light at the end of the tunnel.
I prefer to view early March as one last chance to permanently incorporate the driving lessons that Winter has attempted to impart on its denizens. What, you haven't taken NE Winter Driver's Ed? Here are the the highlights: