Dead man singing
The weekend is over. We had Ava’s birthday party on Saturday night. The Kampen and Stokes families came over. Beth made a bunch of good food, we all had a nice visit and Ava got just a ton of presents (way too much!). But she is having a blast playing with them all. Now we’ll have to do some swapping -- out with the old toy, in with the new toy. Keeps things interesting, ya know.
Now the football season is officially over. I really didn’t watch much of the Pro Bowl, maybe 7 or 8 minutes. Enough to know that Adrian Peterson looked like he did back in the beginning of the season and enough to know he was named the Pro Bowl MVP. A meaningless title, really, but it definitely makes me wonder what happened to him the last four weeks of the season when he all but disappeared from the running game? It seemed at the time that defenses had him figured out, or the O-line wasn’t doing their job, or Peterson was no longer seeing holes -- but that didn’t seem to be an issue at the Pro Bowl. He looked terrific. Now it really, REALLY makes me wonder if it was coaching? I hope not, but that’s what my gut is telling me.
Last night at about 10 p.m., Beth asked me “Were the Grammy’s on tonight?” I hadn’t paid any attention. The Grammy’s used to be a big deal to me, but I am so out of touch with modern music these days that I hardly know any new artists. And if I know their names, I certainly don’t know any of their music. Besides, the Grammy’s lost their relevancy to me back in 1989 when Jethro Tull won the best heavy metal performance over the likes of Metallica. I would barely classify Jethro Tull as “music” much less “heavy metal music” (if your front man’s main instrument is a flute, you shouldn’t be nominated under the “heavy metal” category -- which goes to show how clueless the Grammy’s really are). Then, to drive home the fact that I was right about the Grammy’s cluelessness, Milli Vanilli won “best new artist” a year later.
But just for fun, I flipped over to the Grammy’s just in time to see a corpse slumped over a piano, drooling something about “great balls of fire.” Then I realized it was Jerry Lee Lewis. Damn, the dude looked like he should be embalmed. After the dead man stopped singing, some idiot started rapping, so I switched back to “UFO Hunters” on the History Channel which was far more interesting. That was my 50th Annual Grammy experience.
But this morning I had to look to see who the winners were, and as usual, it was either Bruce Springsteen (who I didn’t even realize was still recording) or a bunch of people I had never heard of, like Amy Winehouse. I have no clue who Amy Winehouse is, but she must’ve been the Grammy’s sweetheart this year because she took home an armful of awards (the Grammy's tend to do that, which is yet another reason I think they are a joke -- they find their little "flavor of the year" and heap tons of awards on them). Unfortunately for Ms. Winehouse, one of her awards was “best new artist” which is basically the kiss of death for any artist. Case in point, here is a brief list of a few of the winners for “best new artist”. Many fall under the category of “where are they now?” Evanescence (2004), Shelby Lynne (2001), Lauryn Hill (1999), Paula Cole (1998), Hootie and the Blowfish (1996), Marc Cohn (1992), Milli Vanilli (1990), Tracy Chapman (1989), Jody Watley (1988)…. And there are many more, including the Starland Vocal Band (1977) and Debby Boone (1978). If I were new to the music business, this is one award I would rather not win.
Our cable company is coming out this afternoon to check out our cable boxes. Our reception is horrendous today and I am one step away from switching to Dish Network; satellite can‘t be any worse than this. Our reception has been an ongoing problem since October. Today was the sixth time in four months we’ve called regarding the problem and they are finally sending out a technician. If Charter doesn’t get it right this time, I’m done with them.
Beth is working 9 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. today, which is yet a new wrinkle in her schedule. When she gets home I have to try to sleep for a while, because I have to work tonight. I guess this is a little long-winded. I better quit.
Now the football season is officially over. I really didn’t watch much of the Pro Bowl, maybe 7 or 8 minutes. Enough to know that Adrian Peterson looked like he did back in the beginning of the season and enough to know he was named the Pro Bowl MVP. A meaningless title, really, but it definitely makes me wonder what happened to him the last four weeks of the season when he all but disappeared from the running game? It seemed at the time that defenses had him figured out, or the O-line wasn’t doing their job, or Peterson was no longer seeing holes -- but that didn’t seem to be an issue at the Pro Bowl. He looked terrific. Now it really, REALLY makes me wonder if it was coaching? I hope not, but that’s what my gut is telling me.
Last night at about 10 p.m., Beth asked me “Were the Grammy’s on tonight?” I hadn’t paid any attention. The Grammy’s used to be a big deal to me, but I am so out of touch with modern music these days that I hardly know any new artists. And if I know their names, I certainly don’t know any of their music. Besides, the Grammy’s lost their relevancy to me back in 1989 when Jethro Tull won the best heavy metal performance over the likes of Metallica. I would barely classify Jethro Tull as “music” much less “heavy metal music” (if your front man’s main instrument is a flute, you shouldn’t be nominated under the “heavy metal” category -- which goes to show how clueless the Grammy’s really are). Then, to drive home the fact that I was right about the Grammy’s cluelessness, Milli Vanilli won “best new artist” a year later.
But just for fun, I flipped over to the Grammy’s just in time to see a corpse slumped over a piano, drooling something about “great balls of fire.” Then I realized it was Jerry Lee Lewis. Damn, the dude looked like he should be embalmed. After the dead man stopped singing, some idiot started rapping, so I switched back to “UFO Hunters” on the History Channel which was far more interesting. That was my 50th Annual Grammy experience.
But this morning I had to look to see who the winners were, and as usual, it was either Bruce Springsteen (who I didn’t even realize was still recording) or a bunch of people I had never heard of, like Amy Winehouse. I have no clue who Amy Winehouse is, but she must’ve been the Grammy’s sweetheart this year because she took home an armful of awards (the Grammy's tend to do that, which is yet another reason I think they are a joke -- they find their little "flavor of the year" and heap tons of awards on them). Unfortunately for Ms. Winehouse, one of her awards was “best new artist” which is basically the kiss of death for any artist. Case in point, here is a brief list of a few of the winners for “best new artist”. Many fall under the category of “where are they now?” Evanescence (2004), Shelby Lynne (2001), Lauryn Hill (1999), Paula Cole (1998), Hootie and the Blowfish (1996), Marc Cohn (1992), Milli Vanilli (1990), Tracy Chapman (1989), Jody Watley (1988)…. And there are many more, including the Starland Vocal Band (1977) and Debby Boone (1978). If I were new to the music business, this is one award I would rather not win.
Our cable company is coming out this afternoon to check out our cable boxes. Our reception is horrendous today and I am one step away from switching to Dish Network; satellite can‘t be any worse than this. Our reception has been an ongoing problem since October. Today was the sixth time in four months we’ve called regarding the problem and they are finally sending out a technician. If Charter doesn’t get it right this time, I’m done with them.
Beth is working 9 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. today, which is yet a new wrinkle in her schedule. When she gets home I have to try to sleep for a while, because I have to work tonight. I guess this is a little long-winded. I better quit.
