Queen of the Dairy

Dr Sighted loves Blizzards.  I like them too, but I am not very discriminatory in my dairy needs.  Any high quality ice cream is perfectly fine by me.  There was an old style Dairy Queen in my home town that I didn't realize was "old style" until I moved away and saw that there were others that serve hamburgers and what not.  I also found out that ice cream places close in the winter time up north, which is very sad.

They have a new commercial out and I don't even know what they are trying to sell me, but I love it.  While well placed Lionel Richie "Hello"s will never not be funny, I particularly like the guy who sings in front of the Corvette.  When this commercial comes on, I move kind of slowly to the remote to fast forward past them.  I also like how wooden the cheerleader's delivery is, and how unnecessary such an elaborate set piece is for two seconds of commercial.

This commercial is not special.  It is not Pie and Chips for Free, which apparently was posted 9 years ago, which is a weird thing to make me feel old.  I cannot imagine we will be talking about I'm a Fan a decade later.  But it is strangely charming and there are a lot of small details that show this was a very thoughtfully crafted commercial and you should pay attention to the Lionel Richie fan's mug and shirt.

The cheese that goes...

There is an apocryphal story of my youth that immediately after I had my tonsils removed, I asked for not ice cream, which is the standard request, but Cheetos, which are not soft nor smooth.  I liked Cheetos as a kid more than I do now, but if I'm line for a catered sub lunch, I'll reach for the Cheetos probably more often than I'd reach for anything else since nobody seems to go for sour cream and onion anymore.  I guess onion breath is more offensive than orange teeth.

A couple of years ago, Cheetos sort of rebooted Chester from a sort of loser who thinks he is the coolest cat on the block who spends the commercials trying (unsuccessfully) to get his paws on some delicious Cheetos into a weird kind of jerk who uses Cheetos not for food, really, but more as props primarily to embarrass some of the people around the human characters (usually friends or family) in the commercial.  (I tried to find more samples on YouTube, but searching for Cheetos is mostly crowded out by videos like this about getting Irish people to try American things.  I must admit, I was amused.)

As an example, two recent ones have a child firing Cheetos out of a catapult at her father (I think?) for stealing the remote or something.  Another has a child making a Cheeto bikini for her sleeping father so that when he wakes up, he'll have bikini tan lines.  In none of these are there anything about the Cheeto dust that gets on everything.  It's not as bad as Dorito dust or glitter, but it's in the conversation.

There are a number of baffling aspects of these commercials.  First, none of the people seem to be fazed by the fact that there is a cartoon Cheetah telling them what to do, which, now that I think about it, is reasonably consistent with the commercial universe.  But really, why not show case the snack as being desirable?  The earlier incarnation was not Geico Cavemen or anything as far as commercial quality goes, but it was clear that the snacks were so good that Chester was willing to endure physical pain.  In the new versions, I'm not really sure that the effects would be any different if they replaced the Cheetos with a bag of bread crusts cut off from little kids' sandwiches..

They've made more of these commercials that Darrell Hammond got to make Colonel Sanders commercials, so there must be something to it.  But to me, it makes me sad.  I cannot imagine 3 year old me wanting to ask for Cheetos with a mascot like this after a tonsilectomy.  I guess it really isn't easy being cheesy.

iTunes? More like iSuck! No wait, that came out wrong...

Apple has done a great jo cornering the market on cool. Their gadgets and computers and cell phones are what it is to be cool in electronics right now. Kind of like Chevy Chase was for that brief year in 1975. If Apple made a toilet, hipsters would line up to do something like mix trendy drinks in them while listening to Vampire Weekend. What do hipsters drink? Zima? Do they still make that anymore?

I considered getting a Mac, because while no hipster, I am a marketing sheep. My interest in the iPhone is well documented and while I ended up not getting either one (the cost of a Macintosh computer made me want to vomit in my mouth), I did buy an iTouch. It is pretty phenomenal, actually, and proably the coolest thing I am likely to buy for some time, even though I am Paul McCartney tickets. It feels a little anxiety inducing to spend as much as he wants to his play his violin shaped bass, but it is getting better all the time.

My only complaint on the magnificent iPod (and is a growing complaint) is that usint iTunes, the software rudder that steers the entire iFleet, is a horrendously flamty experience. I don't know how everyone doesn't bring this up when talking about Apple products. So much of the Apple lineup is considered cool and accessible and what not (we used a Power ac in the Film Clu in college and it made me get all tingly inside -- sadly, they made me write on the social and technological equivalent of stone tablets), but iTunes, their ambassador the PC World, is like the equivalent of having Joe Biden deliver a speech when Barack Obama is sitting down next to him eating M&Ms.

The interface is not intuitive, it is not fast and it is not flexible while pretty much all of the qualities Apple wants us to think of when we think of them. The corporation has a very vertical organization, maintaining a sort of autocratic control of their products and software, which is delightfully ironic coming from a company that made an ad identifying its competition with Big Brother.

The default synchronization operation is to copy every music file I own to the 'Pod (what is with the iEverything anyway? I nGaeilge is the only place I've seen capital letters show up in the middle of the words...) How any people really want every mp3 they have on his or her player? I am not exactly Lester Bangs or Cameron Crowe, but all of ine doesn't fit and some of my music (gasp!) is kind of crappy (Sugar Sugar by the Archies? Really?) or at least not all of it is everyday material. It is a giant resource hog, too, and unless this is some cheeky, trendy form of self-sabotage, I don't get what their problem is. They also make a huge nagging production out of updating the version and make you couple it with Quicktime. If I wanted to be nagged about my music and movies, I'd have Jewish parents. (Jewish moms still nag, right?) As I am switching from one computer to a new one, my podcast schedule is really screwed up and it has not been obvious how to correct it and it took like 3 hours to fix my playlist because, I can only suspect, someone was mean to Apple founder Steve Jobs as a child and did this to get back him.

This is all particularly baffling because the iTouch itself is so completely the opposite. It took me like two seconds to do figure out how to do awesome stuff on it. I'm pretty sure I just found an app to make it a functional Star Trek phaser. My question is this: What's your deal, Apple? Did you decide "Hey, let's make like 90% of our stuff really cool, and the remaining 10%, the most critical 10% that the gadgets and things can't run without, the technological equivalent of gargling malt vinegar." I feel like we're getting a Steve Job on this.

Southernfolk talk different

Growing up, my dad used to use funny idioms that I'd never heard anywhere else, and since his mom is Southern and my mom is not, I just assumed that's where they came from. One I remember is "You better be over here in two shakes of the lammy's tail." This meant very quickly. Evidently, lammies shake their tails so quickly that they can shake them twice before whatever instant you need to deal with is at hand. I'm pretty sure there is another one, but I can't think of what it is. I have lived in the Real South (as my loyal readers know, I grew up in Florida, which is like the bicurious state) since 2004 now, and have yet to hear any of them come out of any other Southern mouths. So I can only conclude that my dad is an amazing idiomologist and made them up.

There are, however, a number of colloquialisms that I have come across that are worthy of sharing. You will, of course, find them listed and discussed below in my favorite and noblest of all lists: the numbered list.

1. Show [one's] tail - The first time I heard this one, I actually had to ask for an explanation. I have not heard this one outside of rural South Carolina yet, so it might be unique to there and not Southern at large. It has nothing to do with nudity or discovery of morphological changes in humans, to my disappointment. How great would it be if they discovered lizard people in the Upstate of South Carolina? Clemson's swim team would win all kinds of national championships. It actually means to misbehave, as in, "After eating several pixie sticks, the State Senators really showed their tails."
2. Cut on - This is the phrase that made me want to write this entry. This one bothers me for aesthetic purposes. It doesn't sound right. This is the opposite of (obviously) cut off, as in "Cut off the woodchipper, he's already dead." Cut off should be obnoxious too, since it doesn't really make sense either, but it gets a pass because cutting off and termination kind of make sense, even though cutting off a light switch is not really that permanent or serious of a change. I do feel strongly though that you should not be able to cut on anything.
3. Might could - These are two linking verbs. I know that because in seventh grade Mrs. Adair made us memorize all of the linking verbs in the English language via a cute little song that I will never forget ever. The thing about verbs like that, though, is that two of them can't follow each other in a sentence, with the exceptions of am/is/are/was/were and being. No other combinations are possible, including might could. This means might be able to, and I grit my teeth every time I hear someone say this. An example of this being used in a sentence is "I might could help you with your math homework, but you have to take off your shirt first." (In this example, the speaker is talking to a girl [who is over 18]. The speaker can be whichever gender you prefer.)
   
4. Stay - This one isn't so much a phrase as it is a word. That's ok, though. It means live. As in, "No, I don't stay in this refrigerator box. Thanks for asking." This one, though, isn't really quite as aggravating or funny as the others, but it's still unusual. Like a cat who barks or a complete sentence coming from Rep. Corrine Brown. I am also told that this is restricted to a subset of Southerners who are also black, which is consistent with my very scientific observations.

I really wish I could remember the other prolific one that my dad would say because it would really make the intro stronger and it's really weird. Feel free to share any regionalisms you have encountered, and point out the region. The stranger the better!

Stealing Bad Commercials

Have you guys seen the Pizza Hut commercial where they all go in and eat some fancy looking pasta, and, oh my gosh, the chef comes in and says that it's really Pizza Hut? You know, this advertising masterpiece? Everybody there gets a good chuckle, and one even says something like, "I like it better now" at the end.

You know, if it were me, I would be pretty darned pissed (that is, assuming that this isn't completely staged, which it clearly is) if I took my date out for Italian (although, it would probably have to be at least like a fifth date, because I don't like girls to see me eat noodles too early in a relationship. I'm messier than I am happy with being) and it turned out that it was really Pizza Hut, I would demand a refund. If I were at a seafood restaurant and Captain D came out and said, "Hey guys, it's fast food!" Engineer Sighted would have to have a mutiny on the Captain's ship. Although I could probably figure out that something was up. Unless it was a Northern, cold-water or freshwater fish, of which I am woefully ignorant.

This is not a good commercial. What makes this even weirder is that Hardee's ripped it off almost exactly. Don't believe me? Check this out, fools. The only difference is they are only trying to hoodwink one person, rather than the entire restaurant. That's laziness. If I'm tricking people in a restaurant, I am going for complete deception. Sometimes I tell the hostess that my name is Roger McDormand. (My name is not Roger McDormand.) And you know what? They never figured it out. If there is a person in there who is on to my game, then I have failed. And that's what I have to say about Hardee's. Failure. McDormand, party of 2, your table is ready.

All hail my feet

Isn't it weird how different some surfaces that you walk on every day feel on bare feet? Like how completely different your car accelerator feels? I heard somewhere that it was illegal to drive with bare feet, but I kind of like it. I like to live on the edge. Someday, you may see a "Wanted" poster featuring Engineer Sighted, for driving barefoot. I will be the second celebrity to have the nickname "Shoeless."

I was in a rather long car ride today, and I found myself taking off my shoes, because as I am pretty sure I have mentioned this before repeatedly, but I hate wearing shoes. I prefer flip flops, and even then, it's iffy. The floor mats of the automobile in which I was riding was one of those new/old surfaces. They felt kind of fun. I, fortunately, got to avoid wearing shoes for most of the weekend because I managed to return to my homeland, Florida. We shy away from shoes down there in the same way that Britney does underwear. Beaches and sand are not conducive to shoes, you see. Sand gets pretty much in everything, and the fewer crevices, the better. That might be good advice all the time.

I decided to make take this trip because a week and a half ago my car got smashed by hail. It was like that scene in the iconic Apple commercial. They were like tennis balls falling from the sky. There is nothing good that comes from things that are colder than 65 degrees Fahrenheit, unless it comes in a glass. I had no car or way to get to work, so why not go to the beach? I thought so too. It was awesome. If I were here, I would have to wear all kinds of shoes.

But I'm back now. It's going to be a pretty hellacious transition, though, and I can't say that is going to be an enjoyable time. It's rather early and I am already ready to crash. I apologize for the "already ready" construction; I hate that almost as much as I do shoes. But right now, my bare feet are on the surface of my couch, and it's a nice feeling, so it is alleviating my concerns as I write this. I suggest you try it.

Man I Miss Video Cameras: So You Think You Can Write?

I don't know if you knew this about me, but I used to write movies in college. Actually, all of you probably knew that already, since most of you were there. Well, I miss it. I wish I had a camera so I could talk my friends into making fools themselves and broadcasting it on the internet via something along the lines of youtube. Although, if I continue to generate the sorts of media I am like this blog and newspaper articles and (soon) movies, then maybe it should be time to invest in an actual domain of my own. I just need you people to tell your friends so I can make money off this endeavor. I know you are probably thinking, "Why should we do that?" For two reasons: you have nothing better to do at work and I would be happy to buy you a drink if I were making money off of this.

This isn't quite a whole movie, but it's a sort of preview. This will probably be the longest entry I've posted, but you might find yourself reading more things written in the style of a screenplay more often.

---

So U Think U Can Write?

[Fade in]

[Crowd of 20 somethings shown sitting in a classroom, writing in notebooks.]

NARRATOR
[in voice over]

In a class of some of the best young writers in America…

[Fade out]

[Fade into an office with STAN and an older person, INSTRUCTOR. STAN is seated, while the INSTRUCTOR is standing and reading from a notebook.]

INSTRUCTOR
[yelling]
You think this is good? You waste my time with this… this garbage? You’ll never get published with that. Do you even want this? You have to want this. Do you want this…?

[Fade out]

[Fade into a bookstore coffee shop. STAN is seated at a table by himself, three other 20 somethings are together, with coffee drinks.]

[ANGLE ON bookstore façade. QUICK CUT to STAN.]

NARRATOR
Where the only thing that flashes as bright as the talent…

[ANGLE ON ERIN, TOM and VICKY. ERIN and TOM are clearly together.]

ERIN
[looking at STAN]

He writes so well, but with his reckless attitude, he’ll never last in this career.

TOM
Some people just aren’t cut out for this.

VICKY
I think you’re jealous, Tom.

[Fade out]

[Fade in. ANGLE ON chalkboard that says “Open Mic Night.”]

NARRATOR
…are the egos.

[ANGLE ON TOM, ERIN and VICKY at the bar of the coffee shop.]

TOM
I killed! It was perfect.

ERIN
[kissing Tom on the cheek]
Wonderful job, Tom.

[STAN approaches to pick up a tea and cookie.]

ERIN
What did you think, Stan?

STAN
I really liked it. It was a little heavy on alliteration, though.

[TOM aggressively knocks the mug out of STAN’s hand.]

TOM
Too much alliteration? I didn’t see you up there, Tennessee Williams. You want a go, with me Oscar Wilde? I’m gonna shove your head so far up your ass you’ll be a walking enjambment!

ERIN
Guys, no! Don’t hurt him Tom!

[Fade out.]

[ANGLE ON a party. ERIN and TOM are on a couch, surrounded by people. TOM is talking loudly but unintelligibly. ERIN does not look like she’s enjoying herself.]

NARRATOR
This is the time…

[ANGLE ON VICKY talking to STAN]

VICKY
You know she loves you, right?

STAN
Why should I care about that? She’s with Tom now.

VICKY
Yeah, well she shouldn’t be. He’s a jerk. And he’s been saying that he doesn’t think you’ll ever get published. He said he’s not even sure you should call yourself a writer anymore. Are you gonna let him talk about you like that and get the girl?

STAN
Give me a damn pen.

[Fade out]

[ANGLE ON ERIN and STAN]

NARRATOR
…when you have to ask yourself…

ERIN
We shouldn’t.

STAN
I know.

[They go in to kiss but fades out in a way to make it seem unclear if they actually do.]

[Fade out]

[ANGLE ON TOM, VICKY, ERIN and STAN in the coffee shop.]

NARRATOR
One simple question:

TOM
[yelling at STAN]
I know about you two! This should be settled the way men do this! On paper! See you Friday at the reading you lousy pulp writer!

[Fade out to title: So You Think You Can Write?]

NARRATOR
So You Think You Can Write?

[End scene.]