You are given $1,000,000 to donate anonymously to charity or a stranger. How would you dispose of it?
Tens and Twenties. And I can't tell you to whom it would be given... then it wouldn't be anonymous.
*Question of the Week comes from The Book of Questions by Gregory Stock, Ph.D.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Action
I'm trying to take cover behind a wrecked Corvette. Yeah, I'm the one that wrecked it. But that's not really important right now. What is important is the heat from the explosions that are rocking my world right now.
I sneak a peek over the hood of the car and see little more than balls of orange flame and black smoke rising high into the air. I duck back down and take a deep breath. I reach into my pocket and pull out a picture. The girl in the picture? She is, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful women on the planet. But I'm not doing any of this for her.
I'm no hero. I'm not doing any of this for the love of the woman in the picture. It isn't for glory or honor or duty to my country. I'm doing it for money.
Try not to judge me too harshly, okay? Everyone has their motivations. Mine just happens to be dollar signs. And let me tell you, the paycheck I get at the end of this gig is well worth the heat and frustration that I'm feeling at the moment. And the girl? You could say she's just a bonus.
Get your head out of the gutter. It's not like that.
It's time for me to make my move. Another deep breath and then I'm on my feet. I jump across the hood of the car. I don't see how it's any quicker than running around the car, but it looks cool. Not that anyone is really paying attention to what I'm doing right now. Things are exploding. Fireballs tend to be eye catchers.
I'm running about as hard as I've ever run. Another explosion goes off somewhere to my right. That's when I feel the sharp pain in my thigh. I stumble a bit and look at my leg. From what I can tell, I've been hit by some shrapnel. This wasn't part of the plan.
I was just supposed to move from one point to another. Sure, it's across something of a minefield, but it was supposed to be that simple. Now I have this thing sticking out of my leg. I'm not bleeding much, so I keep moving.
With each step, I wince. I'm trying to hold back. I don't want the pain to show in my face, but it's realistic, right? You have a sharp piece of metal sticking in your leg, you're gonna feel it. Especially if you try to keep moving.
Suddenly the explosions seemingly stop. Things calm down all around me. I collapse to the ground, breathing heavily. And then I hear it.
"Cut!" yells the director.
I'm quickly surrounded by a couple producers, the stunt coordinator, and the medic that's always on set for these big action sequences. My agent told me I should try to avoid doing my own stunts, but I always think it's fun. Besides, why pay someone whose face you can't even show on camera when I can do most of the physical stuff myself anyway?
The EMT is examining the injury to my leg. I really don't want to pay attention to what she's doing. I can hear the producers asking if I'm okay and they yell back at the director that my leg is in bad shape. At least I think that's what they're saying. I'm in a lot of pain and everything is kind of a blur right now.
I hear someone suggest that I take a ride in an ambulance. "Is this really necessary?" I ask.
"We need to get that metal out of your leg," says the lady wearing the latex gloves. "You'll definitely need stitches. When was the last time you had a tetanus shot?"
"I don't know, a few years ago?" I'm really not sure. Now come the profuse apologies from the stunt guy. He tells me he's gonna have a talk with the guys with the explosives so they can get to the bottom of what happened. They seem to be worried that I could have been killed.
The woman from the picture stands off to the side. She hasn't taken her eyes off me since the director stopped the shoot. She hasn't taken her hand away from her mouth since the shrapnel hit me. She's my co-star, Maria, and she looks genuinely concerned. That, or she's a much better actress than she lets on when she's on camera.
"Adam," says one of the producers as he puts his hand on my shoulder, "we're gonna get you taken care of, okay?"
I just nod. I kind of just want this to be over with so I can get back here in time for the director to shout action again.
This prompt brought to us by Sunday Scribblings. Go see how others were inspired by "Action."
I sneak a peek over the hood of the car and see little more than balls of orange flame and black smoke rising high into the air. I duck back down and take a deep breath. I reach into my pocket and pull out a picture. The girl in the picture? She is, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful women on the planet. But I'm not doing any of this for her.
I'm no hero. I'm not doing any of this for the love of the woman in the picture. It isn't for glory or honor or duty to my country. I'm doing it for money.
Try not to judge me too harshly, okay? Everyone has their motivations. Mine just happens to be dollar signs. And let me tell you, the paycheck I get at the end of this gig is well worth the heat and frustration that I'm feeling at the moment. And the girl? You could say she's just a bonus.
Get your head out of the gutter. It's not like that.
It's time for me to make my move. Another deep breath and then I'm on my feet. I jump across the hood of the car. I don't see how it's any quicker than running around the car, but it looks cool. Not that anyone is really paying attention to what I'm doing right now. Things are exploding. Fireballs tend to be eye catchers.
I'm running about as hard as I've ever run. Another explosion goes off somewhere to my right. That's when I feel the sharp pain in my thigh. I stumble a bit and look at my leg. From what I can tell, I've been hit by some shrapnel. This wasn't part of the plan.
I was just supposed to move from one point to another. Sure, it's across something of a minefield, but it was supposed to be that simple. Now I have this thing sticking out of my leg. I'm not bleeding much, so I keep moving.
With each step, I wince. I'm trying to hold back. I don't want the pain to show in my face, but it's realistic, right? You have a sharp piece of metal sticking in your leg, you're gonna feel it. Especially if you try to keep moving.
Suddenly the explosions seemingly stop. Things calm down all around me. I collapse to the ground, breathing heavily. And then I hear it.
"Cut!" yells the director.
I'm quickly surrounded by a couple producers, the stunt coordinator, and the medic that's always on set for these big action sequences. My agent told me I should try to avoid doing my own stunts, but I always think it's fun. Besides, why pay someone whose face you can't even show on camera when I can do most of the physical stuff myself anyway?
The EMT is examining the injury to my leg. I really don't want to pay attention to what she's doing. I can hear the producers asking if I'm okay and they yell back at the director that my leg is in bad shape. At least I think that's what they're saying. I'm in a lot of pain and everything is kind of a blur right now.
I hear someone suggest that I take a ride in an ambulance. "Is this really necessary?" I ask.
"We need to get that metal out of your leg," says the lady wearing the latex gloves. "You'll definitely need stitches. When was the last time you had a tetanus shot?"
"I don't know, a few years ago?" I'm really not sure. Now come the profuse apologies from the stunt guy. He tells me he's gonna have a talk with the guys with the explosives so they can get to the bottom of what happened. They seem to be worried that I could have been killed.
The woman from the picture stands off to the side. She hasn't taken her eyes off me since the director stopped the shoot. She hasn't taken her hand away from her mouth since the shrapnel hit me. She's my co-star, Maria, and she looks genuinely concerned. That, or she's a much better actress than she lets on when she's on camera.
"Adam," says one of the producers as he puts his hand on my shoulder, "we're gonna get you taken care of, okay?"
I just nod. I kind of just want this to be over with so I can get back here in time for the director to shout action again.
This prompt brought to us by Sunday Scribblings. Go see how others were inspired by "Action."
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Blue
You know, there have been a lot of ups and downs over the last few months. Not to be a downer, but it kind of feels like the downs have outweighed the ups. I can live with that. But I won't lie, it's been kind of rough.
In short, the dream job that I accepted a few months back turned out to be less dreamy than initially expected. I've since chosen to accept another position with a different company. This new position is, in fact, an old position that I held years ago, pre-NC. As an added bonus, I'll be using my degree again. A welcome change.
In between jobs, I've been given some unexpected time off this week. On impulse, I decided to embrace my impromptu vacation and have visited Bluefield, the home of my alma mater.
Wednesday evening I made the trip up in time to have dinner with Mark, Andy, JMitch, and a few new friends that had made the trip from Richmond for a concert on campus. Once we finished our Mexican treats at La Fiesta, we attended the campus concert which featured All Sons and Daughters.
To describe this time as a concert would be completely inaccurate. I knew nothing about this duo before coming to Bluefield this week, so I had no expectations. I just made the decision to made the trip because I knew I'd get to see a lot of my old friends. So arriving in the Student Activities Center and participating in some genuine worship was a welcome event. It was something I desperately needed. God knew that and He used it.
Something else I needed? Time with friends that I haven't seen in years. Mark, Andy and JMitch I've seen recently, and I always have a good time. But there are others that are here in the Bluefield area that I haven't seen in several years. To catch up with them and share about where our lives are these days was just as much a blessing as singing praise songs with All Sons and Daughters.
I've always looked back on my time at Bluefield College with a fondness that will never go away. The friendships that I had in those days, in a lot of ways, are still strong. Some of these folks I stay in constant contact with. We email, we text, we talk on the phone. Others, I can go months, or even years without talking. But then, when we do talk, it's like no time has passed at all.
I cherish these friendships. And I thank God for them.
In short, the dream job that I accepted a few months back turned out to be less dreamy than initially expected. I've since chosen to accept another position with a different company. This new position is, in fact, an old position that I held years ago, pre-NC. As an added bonus, I'll be using my degree again. A welcome change.
In between jobs, I've been given some unexpected time off this week. On impulse, I decided to embrace my impromptu vacation and have visited Bluefield, the home of my alma mater.
Wednesday evening I made the trip up in time to have dinner with Mark, Andy, JMitch, and a few new friends that had made the trip from Richmond for a concert on campus. Once we finished our Mexican treats at La Fiesta, we attended the campus concert which featured All Sons and Daughters.
To describe this time as a concert would be completely inaccurate. I knew nothing about this duo before coming to Bluefield this week, so I had no expectations. I just made the decision to made the trip because I knew I'd get to see a lot of my old friends. So arriving in the Student Activities Center and participating in some genuine worship was a welcome event. It was something I desperately needed. God knew that and He used it.
Something else I needed? Time with friends that I haven't seen in years. Mark, Andy and JMitch I've seen recently, and I always have a good time. But there are others that are here in the Bluefield area that I haven't seen in several years. To catch up with them and share about where our lives are these days was just as much a blessing as singing praise songs with All Sons and Daughters.
I've always looked back on my time at Bluefield College with a fondness that will never go away. The friendships that I had in those days, in a lot of ways, are still strong. Some of these folks I stay in constant contact with. We email, we text, we talk on the phone. Others, I can go months, or even years without talking. But then, when we do talk, it's like no time has passed at all.
I cherish these friendships. And I thank God for them.
Monday, January 23, 2012
In Other News...
You remember my blogging friend Amy, right? Of course you do. She's the one that won my awesome 50 Follower Giveaway a couple weeks back. She has a blog called Ha Ha. Wait. What? And she is hosting an awesome giveaway of her very own.
Even as I type this post, she is giving away two copies of The Civil Wars Barton Hollow CD.
I want to win. But I'm giving you, my readers, the chance to surf over to her blog to reduce my odds of winning. See how nice I am about that? You can thank me later if you happen to win.
But you won't. Because I'm gonna win.
Even as I type this post, she is giving away two copies of The Civil Wars Barton Hollow CD.
I want to win. But I'm giving you, my readers, the chance to surf over to her blog to reduce my odds of winning. See how nice I am about that? You can thank me later if you happen to win.
But you won't. Because I'm gonna win.
Question of the Week: Entranced
If you could pass your whole life cared for in every way as you slumbered peacefully, entranced by wonderful dreams, would you do so?
No. Because that would mean the machines have won and the Matrix has us. I will not become a battery that keeps the machines alive!
*Question of the Week comes from The Book of Questions by Gregory Stock, Ph.D.
No. Because that would mean the machines have won and the Matrix has us. I will not become a battery that keeps the machines alive!
*Question of the Week comes from The Book of Questions by Gregory Stock, Ph.D.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Possible
Pete and Kenny were killing time in the coffee shop. Pete was drinking his grande with one cream and no sugar while reading the newspaper. Kenny just flicked the lid of his tall mocha while staring at the brunette barista behind the counter. The girl noticed him looking at her, but in the split second that their eyes met, Kenny quickly looked away, as if his eyes had simply been wandering the whole time. He waited a few seconds and looked back at her. She had, by this time, looked away and continued with her work. But she was smiling.
"Pete," Kenny whispered.
"Yeah," said Pete without looking up from the Sports page.
"The girl behind the counter, she's pretty hot, right?"
Pete looked up and saw the girl as she sprayed whipped cream into the top of a customer's cup. "Yeah, she's kinda hot," he said and returned to the paper without really giving the girl another thought. "You should go talk to her."
Kenny knew this was coming. It's always so easy for the outgoing guy with the winning personality to hand out the advice to go talk to her. But for the introvert who stammers when confronted with an attractive woman, it's another story.
"Sure... and say what?" Kenny could feel his anxiety level rising and he hadn't even committed to the idea of approaching the girl behind the counter.
Pete sighed and dropped the paper to his lap. "Are we really going through this again?" he asked.
Pete had been friends with Kenny for a very long time. They'd seen each other through college, through the loss of jobs, and even the loss of loved ones. Each of them knew that the other would always be there for support, no matter what. But Pete just couldn't understand Kenny's lack of self-esteem.
"Going through what?" Kenny asked.
"You're gonna make me give you the 'good enough, smart enough' speech again, aren't you?"
Kenny just sat there. He knew this was coming too. A part of him wished Pete would just stop right there. He wasn't fishing for compliments, but that's where Pete would go next.
"Dude, just go talk to her. She can't be that intimidating. I mean, yeah, she's attractive, but so what?" He just looked at his friend, waiting for a sign that he was getting through.
"You think it's possible a girl like that might respond to me?"
"Of course it's possible!" For a moment Pete forgot he was in a quiet coffeehouse and didn't realize his voice was raised. He looked around at the faces that had suddenly turned in his direction. Embarrassed, he lowered his voice, "Of course it's possible... But only if you take the initiative to walk up to her and introduce yourself."
"Kenny, you're a great guy. Everyone else sees it. Why can't you?" Pete said as he stood from his seat. He dropped the newspaper back on the table and put on his coat. "I've got to get to work. Next time I see you, I expect you to have the hot girl's phone number."
"But--"
"No buts," Pete interrupted. He didn't want to hear Kenny's excuses. He wanted Kenny to take control of his own life for once. He wanted Kenny to stop floating along like good things would just come to him. He wanted Kenny to take the reins and make good things happen for himself. He figured that approaching a girl at the coffee shop would be an excellent start. "Go. Talk. And remember to smile. Girls like that sort of thing."
Pete walked out of the coffeehouse and headed to work. Kenny continued to sit on the sofa for a while, flicking the lid of his tall mocha while occasionally stealing glances at the brunette barista behind the counter. He didn't even like coffee. He couldn't quite figure out why he wasted five bucks on this mocha that he knew he wouldn't drink. He came here to hang out with a friend. Now he was sitting alone, wishing he had the courage to say hi to a pretty girl.
"Are you all right?"
Kenny looked up from his cup and saw the brunette barista sitting on the arm of the chair that Pete had been sitting in. She was smiling sweetly at him, a look of near concern on her face. Kenny opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
"Sorry," she said, "I know it's none of my business, did you and your friend have a fight? You look like you're kind of lost in thought over here."
Kenny laughed to himself. "Oh, no, there was no fight. He just had to get to work. I was kind of lost in thought."
From the back of the store, a voice called out, "Rachel, can you clear some tables?"
"I'm on it," the brunette barista called back. "That's right. My name's Rachel and I work in a coffee shop. No Friends jokes, please." She smiled as she stood up. "Can I get you anything? A refill?"
"No, thanks. I'm good for now."
"Well, if you change your mind, or decide you want a break from your thoughts, you know where to find me," said Rachel as she pulled a washcloth from her apron.
"I do?"
"Yeah, behind the counter," she said, lightly slapping Kenny on the arm, "I work here, remember?"
"Oh, yeah," said Kenny, feeling embarrassed by his lack of cool, "I'll try to remember that."
Rachel laughed as she walked away. Kenny couldn't help but watch as she cleaned tables and returned behind the counter to help the new customers. They smiled at each other whenever they made eye contact. Kenny never once took a sip of his tall mocha. He simply threw it in the trash when he left the sofa and walked to the counter. He got to thinking, if he could get her to smile just by smiling himself, maybe asking for her number would be possible too.
This prompt brought to us by Sunday Scribblings. Go see how others were inspired by "Possible."
"Pete," Kenny whispered.
"Yeah," said Pete without looking up from the Sports page.
"The girl behind the counter, she's pretty hot, right?"
Pete looked up and saw the girl as she sprayed whipped cream into the top of a customer's cup. "Yeah, she's kinda hot," he said and returned to the paper without really giving the girl another thought. "You should go talk to her."
Kenny knew this was coming. It's always so easy for the outgoing guy with the winning personality to hand out the advice to go talk to her. But for the introvert who stammers when confronted with an attractive woman, it's another story.
"Sure... and say what?" Kenny could feel his anxiety level rising and he hadn't even committed to the idea of approaching the girl behind the counter.
Pete sighed and dropped the paper to his lap. "Are we really going through this again?" he asked.
Pete had been friends with Kenny for a very long time. They'd seen each other through college, through the loss of jobs, and even the loss of loved ones. Each of them knew that the other would always be there for support, no matter what. But Pete just couldn't understand Kenny's lack of self-esteem.
"Going through what?" Kenny asked.
"You're gonna make me give you the 'good enough, smart enough' speech again, aren't you?"
Kenny just sat there. He knew this was coming too. A part of him wished Pete would just stop right there. He wasn't fishing for compliments, but that's where Pete would go next.
"Dude, just go talk to her. She can't be that intimidating. I mean, yeah, she's attractive, but so what?" He just looked at his friend, waiting for a sign that he was getting through.
"You think it's possible a girl like that might respond to me?"
"Of course it's possible!" For a moment Pete forgot he was in a quiet coffeehouse and didn't realize his voice was raised. He looked around at the faces that had suddenly turned in his direction. Embarrassed, he lowered his voice, "Of course it's possible... But only if you take the initiative to walk up to her and introduce yourself."
"Kenny, you're a great guy. Everyone else sees it. Why can't you?" Pete said as he stood from his seat. He dropped the newspaper back on the table and put on his coat. "I've got to get to work. Next time I see you, I expect you to have the hot girl's phone number."
"But--"
"No buts," Pete interrupted. He didn't want to hear Kenny's excuses. He wanted Kenny to take control of his own life for once. He wanted Kenny to stop floating along like good things would just come to him. He wanted Kenny to take the reins and make good things happen for himself. He figured that approaching a girl at the coffee shop would be an excellent start. "Go. Talk. And remember to smile. Girls like that sort of thing."
Pete walked out of the coffeehouse and headed to work. Kenny continued to sit on the sofa for a while, flicking the lid of his tall mocha while occasionally stealing glances at the brunette barista behind the counter. He didn't even like coffee. He couldn't quite figure out why he wasted five bucks on this mocha that he knew he wouldn't drink. He came here to hang out with a friend. Now he was sitting alone, wishing he had the courage to say hi to a pretty girl.
"Are you all right?"
Kenny looked up from his cup and saw the brunette barista sitting on the arm of the chair that Pete had been sitting in. She was smiling sweetly at him, a look of near concern on her face. Kenny opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
"Sorry," she said, "I know it's none of my business, did you and your friend have a fight? You look like you're kind of lost in thought over here."
Kenny laughed to himself. "Oh, no, there was no fight. He just had to get to work. I was kind of lost in thought."
From the back of the store, a voice called out, "Rachel, can you clear some tables?"
"I'm on it," the brunette barista called back. "That's right. My name's Rachel and I work in a coffee shop. No Friends jokes, please." She smiled as she stood up. "Can I get you anything? A refill?"
"No, thanks. I'm good for now."
"Well, if you change your mind, or decide you want a break from your thoughts, you know where to find me," said Rachel as she pulled a washcloth from her apron.
"I do?"
"Yeah, behind the counter," she said, lightly slapping Kenny on the arm, "I work here, remember?"
"Oh, yeah," said Kenny, feeling embarrassed by his lack of cool, "I'll try to remember that."
Rachel laughed as she walked away. Kenny couldn't help but watch as she cleaned tables and returned behind the counter to help the new customers. They smiled at each other whenever they made eye contact. Kenny never once took a sip of his tall mocha. He simply threw it in the trash when he left the sofa and walked to the counter. He got to thinking, if he could get her to smile just by smiling himself, maybe asking for her number would be possible too.
This prompt brought to us by Sunday Scribblings. Go see how others were inspired by "Possible."
Thursday, January 19, 2012
AFI 64 - Network
Network
1976
Directed by Sidney Lumet
Netflix sleeve: When network new anchor Howard Beale (Peter Finch) loses his mind on the air, his outrageous rants reach viewers at home, boost the ratings and intrigue cutthroat network executives Faye Dunaway and Robert Duvall. William Holden contrasts their avarice as an old-school TV journalist hopelessly out of step in writer Paddy Chayefsky's Oscar-winning masterpiece, which predicted today's rash of trash television and shock-laden news broadcasts.
Well, it's nice to finally say I've seen the actual source of the line, "I'm mad as hell and I'm not gonna take it anymore!" I think that's one of those lines that's been used and parodied over and over again. On the whole, this movie didn't really do much for me. It was kind of bizarre in my opinion. Not one I'll be watching repeatedly.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Factory Settings
Back in November I got my very first smart phone. I confess that I think I love my smart phone. It's a Droid X2 and I'm fairly certain that it does a lot more than I'm even aware of. Thus far, I pretty much use it to send text messages, check my e-mail, and keep up with the Twitter and the Facebook. I mean, there are a few other things I've discovered, but those are the most common uses.
Up until yesterday, things had been going great for me and my Droid X2, which I have officially named Artoo.
I'm glad you asked. Things just stopped working yesterday with no apparent explanation. It was working just fine, and then just before lunch, I went to check it to see if I'd gotten any messages and the power button wouldn't turn the phone on. Generally, I'm able to just press it and it'll come on and show me that it's locked. But at this point, even holding the button down did nothing.
So I removed the battery. This is the correct answer to most problems in life. Remote not working? Remove the battery. Smoke detector beeping incessantly? Remove the battery. Got a headache? Remove the... wait... maybe it doesn't solve all problems. But it seemed to work for the phone. I took out the battery, waited a minute or so, then put it back in. And voila, it turned back on.
But it wasn't long before it started having the same issue. I hadn't been doing anything out of the ordinary with it, and the battery had a full charge. It just didn't seem to want to turn on when the power button was pressed. Confusion and frustration set in.
What would I do without my cell phone? It's the only way anyone has to get in touch with me. Well, there's email, but if I'm not at home and my phone isn't working, even that becomes a moo point. Also, my phone is my alarm clock. If I don't have my phone when morning comes, how will I know when to wake up? The correct answer is: I won't.
So I took a trip to my local Verizon store when I got off work last night. In the car, I kept checking the phone to make sure it wasn't coming on. I just knew that once I got to the store, the guy would have no problem getting everything to work and then he'd just look at me like I was crazy. Sure, the phone wouldn't come on when you hit the power button. We're busy here, sir. Come back when you have a real problem and not just the ones that you make up to get attention.
Luckily, the phone was still exhibiting the same problem. My sanity remained intact in the Verizon guy's eyes. He couldn't figure it out. He said that the issue was probably a software problem. His suggestion: restore the phone to the original factory settings. I had no problem with that. I've only had the phone for two months and there really wasn't anything that I couldn't afford to lose. After all, my contacts were all backed up on the internet, so I wasn't losing any phone numbers.
The only problem was, he couldn't get the phone to power up so he could perform the necessary steps to restore the phone. So we very nearly had to have a replacement phone sent to me. I wasn't too keen on that idea though. That meant I'd have to go a couple days without a phone. I think I would have a serious breakdown if I had to go a day without being connected. Though, now that I've said that out loud, maybe it would be something that would be good for me.
Miraculously, he was able to get the phone turned on and he did finally restore everything to its original settings. It was a little inconvenient to have to go through and change my settings again. Oh, and I had to re-download the Twitter and Facebook apps. But I've got it back to what I'm comfortable with.
The biggest issue I now have is that I lost all my progress on Angry Birds. I was doing good too. And I had three stars on a lot of those levels.
Up until yesterday, things had been going great for me and my Droid X2, which I have officially named Artoo.
I'm glad you asked. Things just stopped working yesterday with no apparent explanation. It was working just fine, and then just before lunch, I went to check it to see if I'd gotten any messages and the power button wouldn't turn the phone on. Generally, I'm able to just press it and it'll come on and show me that it's locked. But at this point, even holding the button down did nothing.
So I removed the battery. This is the correct answer to most problems in life. Remote not working? Remove the battery. Smoke detector beeping incessantly? Remove the battery. Got a headache? Remove the... wait... maybe it doesn't solve all problems. But it seemed to work for the phone. I took out the battery, waited a minute or so, then put it back in. And voila, it turned back on.
But it wasn't long before it started having the same issue. I hadn't been doing anything out of the ordinary with it, and the battery had a full charge. It just didn't seem to want to turn on when the power button was pressed. Confusion and frustration set in.
What would I do without my cell phone? It's the only way anyone has to get in touch with me. Well, there's email, but if I'm not at home and my phone isn't working, even that becomes a moo point. Also, my phone is my alarm clock. If I don't have my phone when morning comes, how will I know when to wake up? The correct answer is: I won't.
So I took a trip to my local Verizon store when I got off work last night. In the car, I kept checking the phone to make sure it wasn't coming on. I just knew that once I got to the store, the guy would have no problem getting everything to work and then he'd just look at me like I was crazy. Sure, the phone wouldn't come on when you hit the power button. We're busy here, sir. Come back when you have a real problem and not just the ones that you make up to get attention.
Luckily, the phone was still exhibiting the same problem. My sanity remained intact in the Verizon guy's eyes. He couldn't figure it out. He said that the issue was probably a software problem. His suggestion: restore the phone to the original factory settings. I had no problem with that. I've only had the phone for two months and there really wasn't anything that I couldn't afford to lose. After all, my contacts were all backed up on the internet, so I wasn't losing any phone numbers.
The only problem was, he couldn't get the phone to power up so he could perform the necessary steps to restore the phone. So we very nearly had to have a replacement phone sent to me. I wasn't too keen on that idea though. That meant I'd have to go a couple days without a phone. I think I would have a serious breakdown if I had to go a day without being connected. Though, now that I've said that out loud, maybe it would be something that would be good for me.
Miraculously, he was able to get the phone turned on and he did finally restore everything to its original settings. It was a little inconvenient to have to go through and change my settings again. Oh, and I had to re-download the Twitter and Facebook apps. But I've got it back to what I'm comfortable with.
The biggest issue I now have is that I lost all my progress on Angry Birds. I was doing good too. And I had three stars on a lot of those levels.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Just a Test
I've often been called a "Cesspool of Useless Knowledge." Okay, it's possible that I'm the only one that's ever referred to myself in such a way.
Whatever the case, I do have a lot of random facts rattling around in my brain. And night after night, I watch Jeopardy and convince myself that I could be on that show. Tonight, I decided to put my money where my mouth is. I took the online test to see if I could even qualify to get on the classic game show.
The test consisted of 50 questions, each to be answered within 15 seconds. That's a lot of pressure to type fast and accurately. Luckily, I not only know a lot of trivial crap, I'm wicked fast typist.
Sadly, there were several questions that I just didn't know the answers to. I started out pretty well. I nailed the first 10 questions. Then it's like they decided to throw in the stuff that I would have needed access to Wikipedia to know.
I don't know how well I did. I'll never know what kind of score I got. All I know for sure is that the Jeopardy people will get in touch with me if I qualify for a personal audition. I probably won't hold my breath on this thing though. Guess we'll see what happens in the next few weeks.
Whatever the case, I do have a lot of random facts rattling around in my brain. And night after night, I watch Jeopardy and convince myself that I could be on that show. Tonight, I decided to put my money where my mouth is. I took the online test to see if I could even qualify to get on the classic game show.
The test consisted of 50 questions, each to be answered within 15 seconds. That's a lot of pressure to type fast and accurately. Luckily, I not only know a lot of trivial crap, I'm wicked fast typist.
Sadly, there were several questions that I just didn't know the answers to. I started out pretty well. I nailed the first 10 questions. Then it's like they decided to throw in the stuff that I would have needed access to Wikipedia to know.
I don't know how well I did. I'll never know what kind of score I got. All I know for sure is that the Jeopardy people will get in touch with me if I qualify for a personal audition. I probably won't hold my breath on this thing though. Guess we'll see what happens in the next few weeks.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Question of the Week: Premeditated Plans
You have arranged an evening with a friend, but on the day preceding your date a special opportunity arises to do something much more exciting. How would you handle the situation?
I would not break plans with this friend. No matter how exciting this "special opportunity" may be. It's happened to me before. I had plans with someone but then something came up and they decided they wanted to do this other thing instead. Look, I'm sorry I'm not the guy you really wanted to go to the prom with. Whatever. Don't get me wrong. I got over it. But it kind of stings when it happens. So, yes, I would continue to keep the plans that had already been made previously with my friend. I don't care how bored we're both gonna be. I mean, I can pretty much meet Community's Alison Brie any time, right? I'm assuming that the "special opportunity" in question is a face to face meeting with Community's Alison Brie.
*Question of the Week comes from The Book of Questions by Gregory Stock, Ph.D.
I would not break plans with this friend. No matter how exciting this "special opportunity" may be. It's happened to me before. I had plans with someone but then something came up and they decided they wanted to do this other thing instead. Look, I'm sorry I'm not the guy you really wanted to go to the prom with. Whatever. Don't get me wrong. I got over it. But it kind of stings when it happens. So, yes, I would continue to keep the plans that had already been made previously with my friend. I don't care how bored we're both gonna be. I mean, I can pretty much meet Community's Alison Brie any time, right? I'm assuming that the "special opportunity" in question is a face to face meeting with Community's Alison Brie.
*Question of the Week comes from The Book of Questions by Gregory Stock, Ph.D.
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