Are You A Butt Head?

We've all seen it. The smokers who flick their butts out the car window that bounce in the road and send ash and burning embers everywhere. Isn't there something inherently wrong with that? I mean sure, you want to smoke and maybe you don't want them building up in your car's ashtray (and you will have to excuse me if I just DON'T understand that one). But where else in our society is it acceptable to just take something out of your mouth and throw it on the ground?

The answer is everywhere.

Now I'm NOT a smoker (though on occasion I will indulge in a cigar) but smokers–nasty as this habit is–aren't alone, Not by a mile. People spit, used chewing gum, chewing tobacco, candy, Lungys (those are my favs) and toss chicken and rib bones, soda cans, candy wrappers and about a thousand other things onto public roads, sidewalks, public restrooms and common areas.

To me, it's a sure sign that the Zombie Apocalypse is coming.

Have parents just given up? Have they stopped teaching children basic courtesies like don't spit on the ground? How much used gum that's been baking in the hot sun can my shoes take? Why are your (still lit!) cigarette butts bouncing off of my windshield?  Why do I even need to ask these things?

What I find ironic, is that these are mostly the same people who roll their eyes at recycling, conservation issues and the global warming conversation. I guess that makes sense though, why complain about doing something nice and responsible like controlling littering when you're one of the worst offenders? I'm no saint, sure in my time I've tossed my fair share of gum and candy wrappers onto the ground. But never into the common paths and walkways. Come on people, that's just rude–and nasty. 

So I guess, we just keep tolerrating this disgusting habit (after all, smokers don't have the most pleasant disposition) and I guess you'll just keep flicking those nasty butts onto the road and my tires can keep rolling over them. Whether you're a smoker or not, I defy you to deny any part of this observation. You can't, and you know I'm right. It just tells me our society has lost a little bit of it's credibility (and validity) as I scrape chewing gum off my shoes and watch as you flick your butts without a care in–or for–the world. 

Because it appears, butt-head, that you don't.

Zombies Walk Among Us

When the Zombie Apocalypse comes,
I know who'll go first.

Let's face it, the Zombie Apocalypse is coming. It can't be denied. Not just because really creepy (and terrific!) TV shows like AMC's The Walking Dead, movies like Night of The Living Dead, 28 Days Later or I am Legend show us what's to come but because it has already started.

You've even seen it.

Zombies are brainless, mindless beasts with no cognitive function to some 90% of their brain (see where this is going?) and can only drool, snarl and attack on a VERY primal level. They have no dreams, ambitions, no sense of civilization or damn bit of common sense. They shuffle through their sorry life, flagrantly consuming everything in their path, leaving destruction in their wake as they move on edging closer to their inevitable demise or for someone to put them out of their misery.

Sound like anyone you know?

Maybe because I am now in my forties, I see things bit differently than just a decade ago. What I see is disengaged, listless, mindless husks, shuffling about from place to place, consuming everything–like locusts–offering nothing for the betterment of the world around them.

Case in point. I recently caught a Sunday-morning matinee at a local mega-movieplex in downtown Phoenix and I was appalled by the overall state of well-being of my fellow human beings.

The man next to me–easily tipping the scales at about 350 lbs–kept falling asleep and then snoring himself awake and coughing loudly through every quite moment during the film. He slouched in his chair and was so wide he had to raise the armrests to fit in more than one seat. The family behind me kept talking at regular volume, to their two and three year olds who themselves kept kicking the back of my seat non-stop. I observed numerous undead drones carrying ever-larger BUCKETS of buttered popcorn, hot-dogs loaded with condiments and brimming soda cups so large they could bring drought relief to the Serengheti.

The whole experience was as depressing as it was sobering. As a species, the North American human is on a violent collision course with destiny. We are so... yucky, that we have forgotten all the trappings of manners, common courtesy and community.

That's why, when the Zombie Apocalypse comes, these lesser strands of humanity will be the first to go.

And to them I say, good riddance.

The Force is Wrong With This One...

 A short time ago, in a place too close for comfort...
 
The 20th century's biggest franchise gets a new lease on life, so perplexing, so invigorating, you'll want to pull the ears off a Gundark.

In one of the most dumbfounded and bewildering moves in the history of modern business, entertainment and the human experience, legendary camp sci-fi guru George Lucas recently sold the ENTIRE Star Wars franchise to a little po-dunk, two-bit Mom-and-Pop operation called the Walt Disney company. All for a meager $4.05 Billion.

Picking up jaw, inserting eyeballs back into eye sockets.

By 1999, Lucas made close to $3 billion on licensing agreements ALONE–and that was before all those God-awful prequels. So why sell the greatest Sci-Fi fantasy franchise of all time for something that alone is worth far more, and doesn't even come close to the cumulative value of the deal. Note that Lucas also sold premiere effects houses, Industrial Light & Magic, THX, Skywalker Sound and host of other smaller SW subsidiaries.

So what does this Disney/Lucas Rebel Alliance mean? Here's my very flawed, incomplete  list of fractured thoughts:

1. "Join me, and together we can rule the galaxy..."— merging entertainment's two greatest properties into one mega-conglomerate of Jedi awesomeness has got to raise the Midi-chlorian levels of the whole galaxy. If Disney's Hans off... oh, I mean, hands off approach is policy, as demonstrated with Marvel (see: The Avengers), then this merger might be magic.
 
2. "I've got a bad feeling about this" – if you think the merging of these two fantasy behemoths is a match made on Mustafar, you may not be wrong. The jury is out on the effects of the merger but one thing is certain, "..this will be a day long-remembered."

3. "Do or do not... there is no try"– okay, at the core I really do think this will be a good move for Star Wars. Already Disney has green-lighted a new three-movie trilogy along with two confirmed spin-off films; young Han Solo and an as-yet-to-be determined adventure starring Boba Fett. Disney has committed to releasing a new Star Wars film every two years. Whoa.

4. "I'm getting much too old for this sort of thing" – I think we can all at least agree that it is a VERY good thing that Lucas step aside and release the tractor beam from Star Wars for someone else. After all, there was a 20 year gap between Return of The Jedi and Phantom Menace. Jeez, forget the Falcon, I could have made the Kessel Run in my family station wagon in that amount of time (she may not look like much, but she's got it where it counts, kids).

5. "It's a trap!" – don't be fooled into thinking that Lucas is gone. He isn't. He has signed on indefinitely as executive consultant. He won't be going anywhere. I suppose that's to perpetuate the preposterous myth that Greedo shot first (he didn't).

Finally, the brilliant appointment of fan-boy wunderkind director, J.J. Abrams to become Lucas's air-apparent means there is a new hope for the admittedly faltering Star Wars name. I honestly can't think of anyone better who could bring balance to the force. Or the possibilities.

Super Funny... Until The Bill Comes.

Watching people hurt themselves may seem funny,

but the real cost may be more than we can bear.

This week, I'm putting pop culture in my crosshairs. In particular, the TV shows that highlight human train wrecks–including UFC, "Pro" Wrestling and the coveted X-Games.

Don't look at me like that. 

We're all guilty. Even shows like America's Funniest Home Videos, Jackass and the strange on-again, off-again love/hate relationship we seem to have with Joe Rogan's Fear Factor. 

I know it always seems funny to watch people hurt themselves but I've never really found it funny at all. Maybe because I was a klutz when I was a kid and I was the one that always seemed to be tripping falling and hurting himself growing up. Maybe it was the time when I went sailing into a 100-foot brick wall at the bottom of a hill while growing up in downtown Boston when I was learning to ride a 10-speed bike. Or even the time I put my left foot through a window pane at age nine while joking around and shredded my lower foot. Scars exist to this day.

So when I see people hitting the ground, head-first, bouncing off a trampoline or leaping off a two-story house trying to jump into a pool and hitting the concrete edge instead. That's not funny to me, I recoil. 

Now, maybe it's because I'm a Dad and I'm through with paying for trips to hospitals, emergency rooms, and Next Care/Urgent Care centers. Not for sniffles or allergies or the flu. But twisted, sprained and broken ankles, pulled muscles and a near endless number of lacerations, cuts and bruises. All because one of my soon-to-be astro physicist kids thought it would be just awesome to emulate the antics of some pro-wrestler, Ultimate Fighter, par-core hot shot or X-Games dude who grew way too privileged with way too much time on his hands. 

How many kids can one society send to the hospital (or the morgue) with these kind of antics–over-sensationalized on every network, website and social media outlet? Our kids are inundated by this idiocy. And while I give my kid's generation SOME credit for binary levels of common sense, how can anyone resist this stuff when it's everywhere you turn? 

We're all guilty of tuning in to this crap but I sincerely have NEVER found watching someone get hurt all that funny. I know it hurts and I have spent enough time in the hospital (and footing the bill) to know that it's no laughing matter.

You can spin some lame "survival of the fittest" dribble at me but the truth of the matter is, this culture has a dark side that is a real danger to impressionable minds. The recent death of X-Game Snow mobile stunt guy Caleb Moore should prove that this stuff isn't for kids. 

Or anyone. 

More Health. Less Care.

Maybe the fix to our health care issues is making good nutrition sound as good as a third helping. 

A good friend of mine–and fellow blogger–recently blogged about health and nutrition and that seemed ironic to me given the fact that; (A) I work for one the world's fastest growing whole body health and nutritional cleanse companies and (B) that I had never blogged on this topic before.

I know what you might be thinking.

'Great, here comes another lecture about health and nutrition.' Rest easy, dear reader, I am far from qualified (or vindicated) to offer health advice to anyone. Most of my life I have been overweight. At 6' 2" I once tipped the scales at 339 lbs (years ago). In all fairness, that was as much a byproduct of stress, allergies and a genetic pre-disposition to gain weight (see Protein-S and Protein-C deficiency). But mostly, it was a fondness for what I like to call "creamy, yummy things." 

Now I won't lecture here (lord knows I do enough of that for my kids) but we all know the run down... eat less, exercise more. Eat more green, eat less brown. I trust a cow over a scientist when it comes to nutrition. As I have learned over the years, seeing time and again... you can be 60 pounds over weight (the classification for obesity is actually 40 lbs or more over your pre-determined weight for height and age). You can lose that 60 lbs by eating properly, getting a decent night's rest and drinking plenty of water.

If you chose to work out, please note that you have to feed your body the proper levels of carbs, fats, minerals and a considerable influx of protein. Protein not only helps you build muscle, but when its the right type and amount, it will help you lose weight. 

The recent collapse of snack food giant Hostess foods was a wake up call for me. No, no not like what you think, I didn't suddenly get healthier because the ding-dong supply has dwindled (as God is my witness, there are still quite a few of THEM in the world) but I realized I haven't eaten one of those god-awful things in, like, forever. What's more, I didn't miss them. I mean there wasn't an ounce of anything remotely resembling food in those things anyway. At best, it was a selection of chemically and scientifically concocted compounds that would fool your system's digestive process.

In America, we thrive on the taste, the gratification of the experience and the near erotic fascination with food–with the use of terms like "sensual", "mouth-watering" and "irresistible", we often sound like we're talking about porn than food. Who doesn't see those ads with a luscious young woman slowly sucking chocolate or chips off her fingers (gulp!) –kids, cover your eyes... oh, to late for my house.

Alright Arthur, get to your point or get to the corner

Okay, so anyway, to me it's evident that to be healthy means to have a healthy relationship with food. You can exercise all you want but if you are undressing that naughty bag of salty carbs with your eyes, you might as well indulge. Otherwise, we all need to re-program how we think about food. It can be tasty, but it is FIRST about sustenance and everything else second.

Putting food in it's place will make our overburdened healthcare system sigh–at east for a moment. And the next time you go for that bag of cookies, force a detour and go for the apple instead. Your heart will appreciate the extra love... and may reward you with the beating of your life.

Thanks for Assuming I'm A Jacka$$. Jacka$$.

If you were articulate, clear and concise, why are you asking me if what you just said 'makes any sense?' 

Pet peeve rant! I'm sure to be sent to the corner for this one. This post is all about people who have the infuriating habit of talking to me in an elitist, condescending tone. Not when they are joking or being playful–but when they want to make sure a ding-dong like me can grasp their reality-altering message. 

Yes, I'm talking to you.

When someone is having a conversation with you and they end every third sentence with; "...is what I'm saying making any sense?"or the abbreviated "does that make sense?" or even "can you do that for me?" or the grandaddy of them all "think you could get that done?" then you KNOW you are being pandered to. 

If you talk to other people in your world like this, with any measure of sincerity, well, you're a pretty horrible person. If you talk like this to me, save yourself the drama and the trauma of waiting for an answer. And if you get a response, just know–though it might be cordial–it will take all my restraint and personal reserve to choke back a bevy of sarcastic responses and a litany of snarky comebacks. This pandering, borderline belittling and elitist corporate-doublespeak is a byproduct of the 90's institutionalization of political correctness, manager and corporate sensitivity training and lawyer-influenced subterfuge (thanks Franklin Covey and Anthony Robbins!). It has filtered into every facet of our culture... and I am so done. 

Why on God's ever-green earth would anyone POSSIBLY need to ask me if what they just said to me makes any sense? Did it make sense to you when you said it? Did you arbitrarily slip into pig latin in mid-sentence? Did you layer hidden double-meanings and innuendo behind each of your statements? Did I fall asleep in the middle of your boring-ass little unimportant diatribe? No. It's simply a passive-aggressive way of talking down to someone  and by showing the other party you are somehow superior.

You're not. 

No one with any sense of integrity would use these terms on loved ones, a significant other or any friend or person you cared about more than a fabric stain. If you do, trust me, they secretly loathe you. I know I sure do.

I'm a college-educated man who has an above average IQ, my father was a Mensa and I read, write, draw and self-educate voraciously. I've taught college-level classes and have been asked to participate on a number of expert speaking panels. I've also taken a lot of the aforementioned courses as a manager and director (I have held both of these worthless titles, BTW).

So I'm pretty damn well positive that I "understood what you were saying" the first time around. You aren't relaying some radical bio-medical theory that will change the way we understand cellular biology. You aren't drafting and engineering an architectural marvel that needs to be broken down to me and you sure as hell aren't talking in metaphysical algorithmic code translated from long-lost hyroglifics. So please, rest assured, I'm bright enough to "get" your worthless little message. You could follow up with a "got it?" or even the trite "sound like a plan?" if that makes you feel better. Then, please feel free to get over yourself. 

Does what I'm saying make any sense?

Best Holiday Pick-Up Line. Ever.

A white Ford F-150–a.k.a. the bane of my existence–took the "bah" out of my "humbug" this past Christmas–forcing me to rethink my long-held belief that giant white pick-up trucks are evil incarnate.

Now before all you cowpokes get your spurs a jingle-jannglin' let me explain. As a driver on the roads of Phoenix, Arizona, there are tens of thousands of ridiculously over-sized white pick-up trucks–usually utility vehicles; cable/telecom service trucks, government vehicles and construction guys heading to work or to the bar. 

And NONE of them gives a damn about common courtesy on the road. 

It's true. I have had more near-miss accidents and more incidents of jamming on my breaks because some yahoo–ALWAYS in a giant white pick-up–cuts me off, won't merge considerably or drives in more than one lane. Clearly directional signals are not standard issue in these rolling behemoths since I have yet to EVER see one of these things signal anyone about anything. 

The scenario: Christmas Eve Day. I needed to run out and grab some last-minute ingredients for a very elaborate holiday cake I was baking. While out I figured "... hey, I haven't eaten today–I'll hit a Wendy's drive-through, grab a chicken sandwich (A favorite of mine!) and show those hunger pangs who's the boss of me." And lo, what should be in line in the drive-through before me? 

You guessed it, a giant white Ford F-150 with all the trimmings. Side metal tool box fittings, the metal rack for carrying extra constructo-stuff and just for added holiday fun; it was bellowing thick plumes of bluish smoke from it's exhausts–right into my grill. 

The gift: As I pull up to the window, the giant white beast thunders away in a haze of acrid, lung-burning exhaust. As I pull forward, ready to hand over my money to pay for my order, the young woman at the window utters the most unexpected words I think I have ever heard in a Wendy's drive through; "You're all set sir, the guy in front paid for your meal." 

Whaaaaaat?! 

How can this be? Those vehicles are piloted by modern-day Orcs, all tear-assing down the freeway on their way to Mordor. This was... baffling. I was stunned. Befuddled. Bewildered. My grinch-like perception of white pick-up truck drivers was shattered. My scrooge-y opinion of all things pick-up dashed forever. I turn to the lady in the window… "uh, ok. Umm… should I–? I would like to pay for the car behind me."

As luck would have it, The car behind me had a $15 order (vs my $7 sandwich combo) but I was still too stunned to care. 

The verdict: I don't know that I now have a great swelling of new-found affinity for ALL pick-ups now, but this RAoK (Random Act of Kindness) made me re-think that "maybe… just maybe, Christmas means, just a little bit more" (than hating on all giant white pick-ups). And it also means that the phrase "the guy in front paid for your meal" could very well be the most heart-warming holiday line I've ever heard.

And it came from a giant white pick-up truck. 

(sigh) My world will NEVER be the same again.  

Before and Aftermath

So you think technology makes our lives better?

Well not if MY children have anything to say about it! 

The photograph above is an actual before-and-after example of the war my children have declared on the technology in my home. Electronic devices in my home actually cry out (or would if they could) when of my teenagers amble into the living room. The list of technological casualties reads like a who's-who of 21st century electronic gizmos. 

And every gadget in my home is an endangered species. 

Maybe it's because they simply don't understand that sitting on remotes or sticking them in  your mouth or even carrying them into the bathroom (and dropping them) will have dire consequences. Whatever the case, this is a terrifying example of the devastation my children visit upon my household electronics. 

Cell phones? My daughter alone has lost, shattered or broken five in three years. iPods? One was lost in a matter of hours, never to be heard–or heard from–again. Another was washed and just hasn't worked quite right ever since. Who knew? PSP? Shattered on the pavement. Nintendo DS? Met an untimely demise on schoolyard concrete. I once bought them a used laptop. Let's just say it took a couple days to find the screen, even though the keyboard portion was found under a bed. And wrist watches? Bwah-hahahaha. Oh dear lord, no. My children: 17  Watches: 0. The list of electronic casualties in my home is staggering. 

ADD. ADHD. Absent mindedness. Lack of caring. Ignorance. Honestly, your guess is as good as mine. Maybe they simply take fantastic technology for granted, I guess we all do to some degree at this point. Who even knows. 

Despite my best efforts, this new generation of teens, at least in my house, have no respect for things they have received. I get the whole 'nothing given has value' lesson now, I do. And my wallet cries at the thought of every infraction and lost tech at the hands of my techno-termites.

The Caveat? I have no fear of the machines taking over and Terminators hunting us down. I merely need to unleash my children on them and that will be all she wrote.

Game. Set. Match.

Shouting at The Shouting Box

With it's bright lights, colors and amazing sounds, television and the internet
DEMAND a response from us all. It's just NOT the one we think. 

Ever catch yourself talking back to the television? Or screaming at your laptop while watching HULU or NetFlix? It's okay to admit it, dear reader, we all do it. I don't mean slinging a few profanities at the icy black box over a bad call during the game (c'mon, I'm not crazy, those lousy refs need to hear what I've got to say!).

No, I mean discussing a TV show, movie or even podcast development during a show WITH the television. The box shouts at us–so of course, we need to have an appropriate response. We need to let this smooth plastic container of wires and switches know what we think and what we feel, you know, to show 'em whose boss! 

So for your consideration, I have identified the five most common faces of a TV Responder:

1. The Skeptic – It's 2 a.m. and every acne cream, revolutionary kitchen aid, male enhancement pill and life-changing cleaning product is making it's pitch to you. Better belittle them and put them in their place with retorts like "pfft! no way...", "that's stupid!" or "yeah right". Show 'em who's in charge right before you dial in your credit card number to purchase that Snuggie. Now you're comfy AND you let them know how you feel. You sure showed them!
2. The Infomercial Critic – Remember the days when infomercials were targeted only to poor decision making insomniacs. Now these things are on before the game, in between movies and are even aired in prime time slots. These advertisers and products must be kept in check by your endless input and validation. You MUST let these 10-in-1 cooking systems know your every thought. Even though they don't respond, they are hanging on every word you mutter.  
   
3. The Movie Trailer Watchologist – Movie trailers are like any other form of mass communication; they are built to appeal to as wide an audience as possible and get you to say the magic words "Oh, I want to see that!" Some trailers don't grab us and that's when we feel compelled to share our advanced critique of the film; "That looks dumb–I wouldn't waste my money on that stupid movie!" This is going to shock a lot of you... no one cares. Your impromptu opinion on a movie no one asked you for an opinion on is about as useful as shoes with no laces. (And if you're thinking, "Oh, well what about flip-flops?" then you're an ass, who's chosen to miss the bigger point. Congrats!)
4. The Opinionator – A Watchologist can quickly morph into an Opionionator, this person is a sudden expert on things they have no connectivity with (the shorthand is an adult with no kids commenting on the value of a children's movie). As an Opinionator, you have an unfounded (and unwelcome) opinion over all you survey. Which often, sadly, is quite a bit.  Favorite catch phrase; "That's dumb..."
5. The Realist – "Reality TV" is here to stay. Whether you want to watch amateur singers  win big during 'fair' judging by washed up or wanna-be celebrities who try and blaze come-backs or watch "real" housewives play 'clash of the personalities', the only thing the "actors" on these shows have in common with you is that you both are obsessed with their favorite topic—themselves. 

No matter which type of mass-media responder you are, it's important to remember that television transmissions and streaming videos from the Internet need to hear what you have to say. How else would they know what to show you? 

I mean, of course your critically important opinion matters–otherwise, shouting at or talking to an inanimate, non-living, non-responding device would just be kind of... crazy.

Five things to remember when you know everything

An open note to all children: Don't wait another moment! 

Go conquer the world while you still have it all figured out.

So, it's 2013 and children are smarter than ever. It's true. Empowered by the internet those born after 1992 in this country have grown up with the entire, combined history of humanity at their fingertips. The movies, the games, the entertainment; it's all so overwhelming. This generation has everything-and I mean everything–at their disposal. 

And they know it. 

You can't argue with this generation. You can't reason with them, you can't even impart knowledge, religion or spirituality of any kind. This isn't to say we shouldn't try–just that it's important for parents, educators and concerned adults to know, kids only half listen to anything we have to say. 

So since they all know everything already here are some useful tips to anyone currently age 20 and younger:

1. Parents know nothing – Have parents ever been cool? Ever? Of course not. They can't be, I mean, it's not like they know what it's like to be a kid, right? They don't know what it's like, to get up and day-after-day go do the same thing and like… gosh, like do stuff for a couple of straight hours and stuff. Hah! Next you'll be telling me they actually used to BE kids…
2. Hard work is too hard, don't do it – things like businesses, relationships, careers and life goals are such a waste of time. Why try at anything when you can "chill-lax" from an already difficult life filled with school, chores nagging parents and gaming? It's not like hard work gets you anything right? I mean, all the cool kids, they just have stuff handed to them and it's all bar-b-ques and baseball game box seats–all day everyday. You don't need to work hard, you need to win the lottery!
   
   Fun thought! – And don't forget to complain that you never win the lottery despite the fact that you don't play and you're under-aged.
   
   
3. TV is your friend – Just think of all the wildly successful super-celebrities who started their career by sitting on the couch and eating snacks until dinner time. These incredibly famous and wealthy super stars of inertia (non-existent though they may be) are imagined proof that doing nothing pays big.
   
   Fun Quiz! What's better than TV? YouTube!
4. Dream Big! Be sure to spend quality time worrying about people who don't worry about you. You know, important stuff like asking; who's cool? Answer? Anyone under 25! What are they doing, what's their favorite YouTube video, who did they break up with yesterday? These are vitally important facts that are worth untold hours and even days of your time. Be sure to stalk your favorite band on Twitter. Because, of the hundreds of thousands of fans they could want—YOU'RE the one they've been waiting for!
   
   Fun fact! Stalking also works amazingly well on athletes, musicians, politicians, actors and popular kids at school. What's a little restraining order between you anyway? I mean, why live YOUR life, when someone else is doing it better, right?
5. School is for chumps – Duh! This one one is wicked easy! School gets in the way of all kinds of fun stuff like X-BOX and PS3 time, FaceBook updates, porn, eating pizza with friends and watching YouTube videos where each one is funnier than the last.
   
   Honesty, all you're ever going to get out of school is friends, self respect, a potential life that might matter, a future, a sense of purpose, sports, a sense of community, a place to expand your mind and parts in the school play. Who needs any of that when in just ten short years of eating snacks in the living room and watching TV you can fast track yourself to Type 2 diabetes, hypertension, obesity, eyestrain and lethargy?

So what's it all mean? Time to live it up! Your folks will live forever, so why prepare for the future? That's hard and tough when instead you can eat Funyuns, send endless text messages that start and end with LOL and veg-out watching cartoon marathons. 

Remember, anything anyone ever accomplished took a bunch of time and was wicked hard. Why do any of that when you have 500 channels and pretzel M-and-M's?