BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

I’ll apologize up front – this isn’t one of my funny ha-ha blogs. But, by the same token it is a missive some of y’all have been screaming for me to post ever since this morning, so here goes…

Not long ago I wrote a blog about an impending change in my style. My hairstyle, to be more specific. I told everyone that I was going to be losing the ponytail. Getting myself a respectable haircut.

Some of you posted comments. Some of you didn’t. Some of you obviously read the blog, some of you obviously didn’t – we’ll be getting to how I know that in just a bit. All I can say though is, tsk tsk tsk to those of you who blew it off and didn’t read that entry. (Grin)

One of you – yes, you “John Of The Corona And Chocolate Milk Fame” – even commented about waiting to see if I was really going to go through with it. Dude…I mean, that right there was practically a “double dog dare” in its own right. But then, I highly suspect you already knew that. (LOL!)

Anyway, I had set the date for today, so this morning I posted a tweet and status update on all my social networking pages to let everyone know the time had arrived. Imagine my surprise when the next thing I knew people were crawling out of the woodwork screaming, “What? No! You can’t! Why haven’t I heard about this? Say it ain’t so! What brought this on? Etc…”

I have to say, it was interesting to watch. Some of you, very dear friends in fact, seemed to go immediately into a state of mourning. Wailing, black veils, and the whole nine yards. I could actually smell the matches and hear the Bic’s as candles were lit all across the country. It was, to say the least, very profound.

In fact, it was just plain touching. It gave me pause. I sat back and ruminated about whether or not I should actually go through with this.

Then I got into the car and went down to SuperCuts. Yeah… I still had myself a full blown LOPITOFFAME…

We arrived at the SuperCuts on St. Charles Rock Road, late morning. We selected this particular hair-cuttery due to the fact that it wasn’t terribly busy, and it was also on the way to Target – for the French readers that would be, Tarr-jaey.

Fortunately, I was able to get into a chair right away, and when my stylist asked what I was after by way of a cut, I told her that after 20 years it was time for the ponytail to go.

Her jaw dropped. After a moment she said, “And I get to do it?”

I replied, “Yeah.”

Her face spread into a grin and she said something akin to “Oh Goodie!”

Apparently ponytails are kind of out of style or some such. That’s what  the Evil Redhead told me, anyway. Judging from the stylist’s reaction, I have to assume maybe that is true, because she was all about getting rid of it. At any rate I figured that since I had dropped the first shoe, I should just keep making noise and drop the other.

“Do you mind if my wife takes pictures,” I asked. “Some of my fans are wanting to see this.”

Of course, the use of the word fans lead us right into the whole, “What kind of fans, what do you do?” Q&A session. When she found out I was an author, and what I wrote, she started getting excited all over again. It seems she figured she just might have a famous person in her chair. Well, I didn’t correct her on that point. I figured my ears might be safer if she really and truly believed I was actually important or something.

As it turned out, all of the ladies in the salon were having a ball with this. In fact, the gal working the chair next to mine was picking back and forth with my stylist in a manner that pretty much reminded me of when Morrison and I joke around on tour.

Once the official “ponytailectomy” itself was done, she started in trying to do something with the fine mop that is my hair. After parting it, spraying it with water, then combing it out, she leaned down and told me, “I promise you won’t look like Moe when I’m finished.”

E K was already standing off to the side, snapping pictures and giggling uncontrollably. Obviously she was having fun, because as you well know, the Evil Redhead never giggles. She might cackle with evil glee, but giggle? Nope, just not her thing.

At one point during the styling, when we found out my lopped off tail wasn’t suitable for use by Locks of Love, my stylist asked the Evil Redhead if she wanted it.

Of course, E Kay turned to me and said, “I wonder if we can get anything for it?” then burst into more uncontrollable giggling.

I’ll be honest. For a half-second I actually considered auctioning it off for charity, but then I came to my senses. I really didn’t want my hair falling into the wrong hands if you know what I mean. (wink wink, nudge nudge, Witch’s secret handshake and all that…)

At this stage of the game, my stylist joked that maybe she should put some of the trimmings from the floor on Ebay. At least, I’m pretty sure she was joking… I guess I should go looking for M. R. Sellars hair on the web because I might need to bid on it or something.

After 15 or so minutes, the job was done. I paid the bill, gave my stylist a nice tip, then hung around for a few minutes talking with the ladies in the salon about my books. When we eventually left, I had the distinct impression that one or two of them might be visiting a bookstore in search of the RGI novels.

So, there you have it. The hair is gone and I’m sporting a new style. Now I just have to get rid of some of this extra tonnage I’m carrying around.

At this point it feels kinda weird. My neck isn’t warm anymore, my head seems lighter, and I get a bit of a shock each time I reach back to straighten the tail that is no longer there – a mannerism I’ve had for 20 years now. I have a feeling that one will be hard to break.

Other than that, the kid doesn’t seem too traumatized, and E K actually likes it. Of course, she was in charge of the style selection and had a confab with the stylist before the Lopitoffame Procedure began.

She did make one admission however – apparently she misses having a “handle”… I’ll let y’all take there where you will, suffice it to say, it’s material for a blog of a different color…

More to come…

Murv

NOTE: Click photos to enlarge…

I have no doubt that some of you are far too young to have any clue what the hell the title of this blog references. Or, more importantly, my hidden meaning behind it. But, since you, my readers, tend to surprise me at every turn, I could well be wrong and every single one one of you might know exactly what I am trying to say, in which case you can probably just stop reading now and save yourself some time. Or not. I mean, what fun would that be?

At any rate, I suppose you will let me know. You always do…

So, let’s make our traditional left turn at the Jersey turnpike and start somewhere left and slightly above the middle, like usual…

There I sat last night watching the premiere of “168”. Now, don’t go running to the TV guide looking to see if there is a new show you haven’t heard about, because I’m sure you’ve heard of this one, just not by that particular title. It’s actually pretty easy if you do the math – 168 / 24 = 7. So, yeah, what I’m talking about is “24” season 7 (or as they say, “day 7″…) If you happen to be one of the folks who gave up on this series after the mind numbingly repetetive, lackluster, shamelessly predictable, unbelievable (even with suspension of disbelief), and horribly cardboard cutout seasons three through six, I don’t blame you. I almost did so myself. As a matter of fact, I had quite vocally resolved not to waste my time with it ever again. Why I bothered to watch seasons three through six is beyond me. It probably had something to do with brain drain. (At this point I do feel compelled to note that while seasons 3-6 were at best, unimpressive, the first 12 episodes of season 4 DID contain a very shiny bright spot – that being a friend of mine, Alberta Watson, who portrayed Erin Driscoll, head of CTU. She could have kicked Bauer’s ass, and they should have let her… But, that’s just my opinion.)

At any rate, like I said, I wouldn’t blame you at all if you have given up on “24”, 48, 72, ad nauseum. However, after seeing a couple of clips and hearing a fairly well balanced review and interview on NPR, I bought into enough of the hype to give it a go. To my genuine surprise, “the following that took place between the hours of 8AM and 10AM,” last night didn’t suck at all. In fact, they were pretty good. Therefore, I will be parked in front of the “toob” tonight in order to catch, “the following that took place between the hours of 10AM and 12PM.” If those are also blatantly suckless in value, then I am likely to follow it right on round the clock to 8AM once again. Of course, it doesn’t hurt at all that there’s a smokin’ hot, redheaded FBI babe paired up with Bauer this season. Or that she is portrayed by actress Annie Wersching, who grew up right here in Saint Louis (local pride and all, ya’know…). And, we all know my penchant for redheads with strong personalities… (yeah, I know, ‘nother blog…)

On a side note – if some intern at FOX is scouring the internet for references to “24“, 168, what have you, in order to do market research and happens to run across this blog, I have two messages for the powers that be: First, cancelling Firefly was epic fail, kids. You shot that series in the foot, then blamed it for your incompetence and used that as a reason to cancel it. Admit your mistake and fix it. Secondly, where “24” is concerned, tell your writers that it will suck even less if at some point Bauer gets tired and has nappy time. They included this in season one, and that is one of the things that made it believable. Yeah, he can stay up for 24 hours straight, but he can’t be fresh as a daisy the whole time. Give us a break…We’ve all stayed up past midnight at some point in our lives, so we know what kind of effect it has on a person. We are nowhere near as stupid as you think we are…

Now, back to the regularly scheduled rambling…

But, ya’know, I didn’t come here to give you a review of 168 / 7 today…I didn’t even come here to yak about dominos…well, actually I’m lying about that last part. Dominos seem to be a big part of my life at the moment. Everything triggers a memory and there ya’ go…

So, anyway, Network 23…wait, I’m getting a bit ahead of myself.

So, anyway, DTV…The wonderful, federally mandated, “Digital Television”… Yeah, okay… So, they are forcing broadcasters to switch to a digital signal, thereby forcing consumers to switch/upgrade/otherwise retrofit their receivers to be able to handle said digital signal. This is all being done in the name of freeing up the analog airwaves for other uses. Not sure why that is, honestly. I mean, why couldn’t the other uses just go ahead and use the digital band and leave well enough alone?

Don’t get me wrong. I’m am not some kind of stick in the mud…well, yeah, maybe I am…but, that’s not the point. Stop getting me sidetracked…What I’m trying to say is that I am certainly not against digital technology. I’m sitting here using a computer, correct? I spent 25 years as a computer technician, and recently discovered that my skills haven’t completely rusted shut – not just yet, anyway. I was even a partner in a recording studio some years back, and for the day, we had the latest and greatest digital equipment available. Yet, we still had clients who insisted on using “tube mics” (analog microphones) and analog tape, because of the ambiance it would lend to the sound…

But, here’s why I am having a bit of a problem with this whole DTV thing – Federal mandate and added cost aside. (I mean, I already have satellite TV, so I’m not actually affected where the whole buying a converter box thing is concerned…) My issue is quality. Yeah. Imagine that.

“But Murv, digital is so much clearer, blah blah blah…”

Is it? One would think, yes. I mean, even I thought it would be. But, last night as I sat watching “168” I was proven wrong. You see, throughout both hours of the program it was plagued with digital dropout, signal loss, bizarre digital artifacts, and yes, the good ole “Max Headroom” syndrome, whereby Jack Bauer spent a good part of the time stuttering across my screen as he jerked about like someone holding on to a bare extension cord.

Some of you old timers are now understanding the reference in the title. Those of you who aren’t are probably following the Max Headroom link and will get it very shortly.

So, here’s my thing… I have no idea what the government plans to do with all of these analog frequencies they are freeing up. I think I saw an article about it once, but quite honestly it wasn’t important enough at the time for me to care and remember what it said. However, if DTV is going to effectively thrust us back into the age of Black and White Cathode Ray Tubes and Rabbit Ears with tin foil (yeah, it was tin before it was aluminum) wrapped around them (something I am, unfortunately, plenty old enough to remember quite vividly), I can see a revolution coming…

Just like in Max Headroom. Beat up Winnebagos and Buses traveling the highways pursued by the FCC in their dark government sedans. Constantly hiding out in alleyways, cranking up retractable mast antennas, and all  manned by cyberpunkish folks like Blank Reg and Dominique (see Max Headroom link). A ragtag group of dissenters, defiantly broadcasting whatever they can on pirated analog frequencies, if for no other reason than to provide a picture that doesn’t jerk around the screen like a frog in a hot frying pan before randomly turning into colorful little squares and jibbering like a CD with a scratch in it.

Hmmmm… I already know what EK looks like in leather. (uh-huh, another blog… and probably not Myspace friendly…) I wonder what I would look like in a purple mohawk and a handful of tattoos? Maybe I should buy myself a used schoolbus and go visit an auction or two. I’m betting analog transmitters are gonna be going cheap…

More to come…

Murv