Yesterday I joked about wanting a cable channel that shows only the human interest stories about Olympic athletes, and leaves out all the actual competition.
 
This got me to thinking about other ideas for cable networks I’ve cooked-up through the years.  I tried to collect them together, and have almost certainly forgotten a few.  But here are the ones I can instantly recall:
 
The Choking Channel  Nothing but people choking on food, twenty-four hours a day.
 
RaveTV  Repetitive, thumping technocrap blaring at all times, the screen functioning as a giant strobe light.  …Of course, we’d have to do some advance testing, to make sure it wouldn’t destroy plasma screen TVs and/or trigger grand mal seizures.
 
Weather Forecast Classic  Random weather forecasts, lifted from local TV news broadcasts over the past forty years.  Almost all would be for uneventful days, when nothing out of the ordinary happened.
 
The Pet Alone Network  A channel for pets that are home alone.  Open fields, walks around interesting neighborhoods, car rides, jowly senior citizens spooning on the praise…  I think it would be a hit.     
 
The Off Channel  For people who get anxious and nervous when the TV is turned off, but occasionally need a little peace and quiet.  It would be completely silent, and the screen would be black – except for the comforting Off Channel logo in the lower right-hand corner.

So there you go.  Those are but a few of my ideas for new cable networks.  And now it’s your turn.

Please leave your suggestions in the comments.

I know you’re not supposed to admit such a thing, but I found myself (good God, what am I doing?) enjoying the Olympics over the weekend.

We watched a lot of swimming, some gymnastics, and even a little beach volleyball.  And because of the human interest stories NBC does about the participants, I found myself getting sucked in.

In BAT high-definition.

In fact, I asked Toney if there’s a channel way up in the 500s or 600s where they show only the human interest stories, and edit out the actual competition.  But it was just a joke… sorta.

Regardless, I found myself looking forward to watching every evening.  I tried it during the day, but it wasn’t quite the same.  Apparently they save all the interesting stuff for prime time?  Sweet sainted mother of the hag on the fire door.

For instance…  Did I imagine this, or did I really see a report about U.S. “athletes” competing in the airsoft pistol competition?  I’m serious, I believe this is actually part of the Olympics.  Airsoft guns!

The next time I tune in during daylight hours, I’m expecting to see a hard-fought battle between Lichtenstein and Tuvalu, in finger-flick football.

One thing I’m not much enjoying… shaved male armpits.  For some reason it gives me the creeps.  And that goes for complete pit-hair annhilation, as well as the carefully manicured, matching Triscuits of fur.

I mean, what the hell, man?  You’re telling me armpit hair creates drag in the pool?  Well, I don’t buy it; I think it makes you feel pretty.  And eliminating one kind of drag, facilitates another.  I suspect.

And if that’s not bad enough, each time a pile of commercials is dropped on us, we’re forced to watch some chick walking the streets in a Secret ad, figuring out new and creative ways to display her underarms to the world.

It’s enough to put a person off their lunch:  all pits, all the time!

Any thoughts about the Olympics so far?  Or are you pretending not to have watched?  Which is probably the route I should’ve taken…

On Saturday I helped the older Secret make a “movie” with his new Flip video camera.  I am the star of this one-minute epic, and we called it Beans.

It opens with a shot of me rummaging through our kitchen cabinet, and settling on a can of Campbell’s pork ‘n’ beans.  I’m shown taking it to our dining room table, removing the pop-top lid, and eating the contents with an enormous spoon.

In the process I get the “juice” all over my face and halfway down my neck.  I’m doing my best over-the-top imitation of Nostrildamus in a rotisserie chicken frenzy…  And the cameraman had a hard time holding the shot, because of highly unprofessional laughter.

Then I stop in mid-chew, have a look of distress on my face, and lift one butt cheek high off the chair.

At that point the Secret spliced in short snippets of stuff we stole off YouTube, including a mushroom cloud, nuclear destruction, a train crash, vintage tornado mayhem, Pete Townshend windmilling his arm, Mrs. Puff puffing up, a NASCAR wreck, etc. etc.

Finally, after all the explosions and chaos, it switches back to me at the dining room table.  And I rub my stomach and say, “Woo!”

Yes, we were very proud of our accomplishment.  And once this art film was completed we showed it to Toney, who laughed but balked at the idea of us uploading it to the internet.

“Doesn’t anything embarrass you?” she asked me.

This was enough to trigger just the tiniest bit of doubt about my performance, and I forbade the Secret from sending it to YouTube.  Upon additional viewings, I realized Toney was right, once again.  Beans just wasn’t the proper vehicle for me, at this particular point in my acting career.  And it’s been shelved.

But, of course, everything will undoubtedly come out, after I announce my candidacy for the United States Senate…

You know what’s hard to deal with?  Making plans to have a late breakfast at Waffle House, then getting overruled and ending up at a Chinese restaurant.  My central nervous system has a difficult time reconciling ham & cheese omelette-anticipation with the harsh reality of chicken and broccoli.  Ya know?

Last night I had a few beers (ahem) and loaded a few more complete catalogs to the Big iPod.  I added the Smiths, Nick Drake, Simon & Garfunkel (what of it?), Paul Simon (through Graceland only), AC/DC (through Back in Black only), and the Reivers.

Next up:  Paul Westerberg and REM.  I have a dilemma with REM because I really like their new album, but thought the previous two (three?) were zzzzzzz.  My inner-completist won’t allow me to skip two or three albums in the catalog, and just jump ahead all willy-nilly.  That would be both cavalier and irresponsible.  Yet I know I’ll never listen to those two (three?) dogs…

What to do?

In case you were wondering, I’m learning to really love the shuffle-play feature of the iPod.  Being an album kinda guy, I’d previously scoffed at the mere suggestion of such a thing.  But I impulsively engaged it a few days ago, and am now hooked.  Jumping from the Buzzcocks to Paul Simon to the Boomtown Rats to Van Halen to the Jam…  It’s like the world’s greatest college radio station.

And speaking of St. Paul, a few days ago I mentioned the bizarre new “album” he released as a 44 minute mp3 download, for the enormous price of 49 cents.  It was one big file with no separate songs, or even names of songs listed.  It was just a data-dump, with little advance warning or accompanying information.

I was highly skeptical; the first few times I played it I thought it was just something he’d cobbled together in his basement while drunk.  There was noise between songs, sometimes several tracks were playing at once, and it just sounded like an unfocused artsy-fartsy mess.

But boy was I wrong…  The actual tunes on that thing (the ones that play all the way through, and don’t get lopped off by racket), are among the best he’s released since the Replacements broke up.  In fact, there’s a feel to it that Westerberg hasn’t been able to recreate since Pleased to Meet Me.

I absolutely love it; it’s one of the best albums of the year.  And that’s the good news…  The bad news is it’s no longer available; downloads were abruptly halted a few days ago, and nobody really knows why.  I have a feeling it has something to do with the Partridge Family cover (“I Think I Love You”) at the end.  Somebody somewhere is probably insisting Paul pay fees for downloads of that tune.

And based on past behavior, I doubt Westerberg will ever agree to edit the song from the album.  So, it’s probably gone forever, and will become one of those legendary lost records.

In its place is a song called “5:05” which sounds like a pissed-off response to the whole situation.

Never a dull moment.

Forbes magazine recently released a list of America’s ten fastest-dying cities, and I’m proud to announce I’ve lived in two of them.  Plus, nearly every company I’ve ever worked for is now defunct!  Yes, it’s a proud legacy…

Several people wrote me this morning saying our Ads vs. Reality page was featured on the CBS Early Show.  I didn’t see it, and can’t yet find video evidence.  If you have anything on it, please let me know.  ‘Cause I need closure.

Now I’m going to mow the grass, make a fart-themed video with the Secrets (a long story), go out for a cuppa two tree beers with Toney, prepare one of my world-famous salads, and watch The Wire.

I’ll leave you with a photo that may or may not give you the heebie-jeebies.  You can probably guess which camp I fall into…

Surf Reporter Knucklehead recently had cervical spine surgery, and asked her sister to snap a pic of the Smoking Fish alongside the scar – which was repaired with some kind of glue instead of stitches.  And while I applaud the action, it gives me a full-body shiver. Sweet sainted mother of Lancelot Link!

Take a look here, if you’re so inclined.  It’s fairly dark, and that might not be a bad thing.

I’m glad you’re doing well, Knucklehead.  We all hope you make a quick and complete recovery.  I hoist a golden elixir in your honor.

And I’ll see you guys on Monday.