Jim Stalker Dot Net

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Jackass – The Guy Who Goes to the Gym to Play on his Phone

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Smartphones – Jackass Trouble Spot

Examples of mobile phones and jackassery teaming up to make magic are legion. They are, indeed,  a match made in heaven. Where there is a cell phone/smartphone, you can be sure that a jackass is nearby.
In fact, we’ve chronicled several beautiful examples of this finely tuned humanity before:

Well, guess what? Since then, we have discovered yet another gem of extreme self-centeredness to toss upon that smoldering bonfire of oblivious rudeness that is the Jackass personality’s staple. In this case, the guy who goes to the gym to play on his phone.

A New Jackass

He’s at the gym. Dressed to work out. Best, he is on the equipment. Ready to go. Most annoying, he may be fit and have genetically low body fat.
But wait, he has seemingly mission-critical things to do on his smartphone. This phone activity takes all his concentration between sets.  So, without knowing it, the machine he’s using, that should take five minutes, now requires thirty. This completely inhibits any turn you or anyone else were expecting to get on it.
Best of all, in pure jackass form, you have no recourse but to endure this jackassery and wait. A simple fix like asking to “work in” is beyond question. Not going to happen. Jackass here.
That is because he also has his headphones on and with them, a do-not-disturb cloud of zombie death surrounding him. Everything in this jackass’ persona screams, “Leave me alone, I’m a busy big shot! I have things I need to multitask now.”

The Root Cause

For this JA, and many others, I suppose, working out is mostly a nuisance – something you do in between those super important Facebook posts and updates.
And what about conscientiousness and common decency?  Nowhere to be found in the jackass. The lack of either essentially defines them.

Take Action

So, what to do?
First, be sure you’re not that jackass. May I assure you that you can go without your phone for the time it takes to exercise. Go ahead and make that break from the information highway torrent. You will survive. Plus, it will do you right.
Second, seek out alternate exercises that do not need equipment. Especially those with benches or seats (a.k.a. jackass resting places).
So, dust off the burpees and push-ups. Or, or that matter, any other exercises that are both hard and equipment free.  Those will get in better shape, faster, anyway. Best of all, because of the real work required, you’ll be jackass free!

Parenting Lesson number 357 – The PSAT

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I thought I would share another parenting experience, where I was the bad guy, again, in the hope YOU can avoid it.

Standardized Tests

For many of us, we have academic hopes for our kids., The standardized tests (SAT & ACT) loom large in the matrix of requirements to make it into most universities. I think we were like many parents in being a bit nervous about our son’s first brush with one of them, the PSAT.
This past fall, his high school offered the PSAT to all sophomores who wanted to take it. He did.
When asked how he thought he did after taking it, he said, “pretty good!”
Then we waited and waited.
Side note – despite being 2018, it still takes weeks to score and report multiple-choice tests.
Then finally, in came the results. Much to our surprise, the results were not what we expected. Our straight-A student who typically tests in the 95th percentile scored in the 40th!

Parental Maturity?

Here’s the sad parenting part of the story.
First, I told him these were poor results (as if he didn’t know, remember, he’s a straight-A student). In real lousy parenting form, I added the line teens love, “these results were well below our expectations!”
I then dug in, with a less-than-compassionate tone, “what the heck happened here? Did you even try?”
Then, I even upped the stakes, “did you cheat and just copy someone else?”
He looked befuddled and said he had no idea what went wrong. The only thing he said was, “They seemed like they were all trick questions, so I did take my time and ended up not finishing every section!”
My wife dug deeper into the results. In one section, he got 7 out of 42 questions right. 7 of 42!!!
More denials from my son. More consternation from his parents.
I then called one of my friends whose child is in college now, “you ever have this happen?”
“Not that bad, but those tests are super tricky. We enrolled our kid in a test prep class with a private tutor. Made a huge difference! It was only $5K!” 
Yikes!
That was two weeks ago.

The Plot Thickens

Then yesterday, an email from his High School, with the subject line, “PSAT Re-take.”
I quote, because this is so hard to believe, “We are very sorry to inform you that we administered the October 11th version of the PSAT on October 25th, and therefore our scores have been invalidated.  Furthermore, since the October 25th version of the PSAT answer key used to grade our October 11th tests, these “for guidance only” scores may not be accurate.”
Don’t you love the carefully crafted language? It looks like the district might have lawyered up.
May not be accurate? I’m pretty sure if you used the wrong answer key, they are entirely inaccurate. Fess up, educators! Fall on your sword!
At first, I was awash with relief. “Ah, that explains it!”
I immediately texted my son, “the PSAT results were corrupted, good news you’re not an idiot, bad news, the school administrators, seem to be.”
Then, I reflected a bit. I knew my initial reaction to this whole situation wasn’t right. Where was the love? Why, no compassion? How about some positive intent in the assessment of this awkward predicament?
The truth is not of it was there. Instead, there was fear.
Hence the accusatory tone.

The Lesson

What I should have done when those results came in, was comfort my son with “you know, you’re a smart kid, so either you had an off day, or something is up with the test. Regardless, we’ll get through it, and you’ll be fine!”
Maybe next time, you can do that. That ship has sailed, and it is too late for me. I blew it.
As a friend told me, “Parenting is both the hardest and most rewarding thing you’ll do in your life.”
So true.

Columbia House Record Club

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This past week it was announced that you could no longer buy 11 albums for one penny. Columbia House – the most famous of the “record clubs” of the 1970’s – finally called it quits.

More lament for this aging baby boomer watching fond memories from childhood go “poof” in front of my eyes.

Several weeks ago I shared similar sentiments about how the modern-day versions of what we used to call “stereos” suck.  For those who were there and remembered, there was nothing like cranking the first Boston album on a pair of 12 inch 3-ways with at least 100 watts RMS.

Sorry, ear buds and compressed digital streams don’t compete with the stereo sound that would fill a room when two properly staged giant speakers were cranked up.  I can’t help think the vinyl version of Skrillex and Justin Bieber would sound better through a pair of Acoustic Research 3a stereo speakers than what you get when you stream it to a single Sonos.

Does anyone seriously argue this?

The Long Playing (LP) record.

The far bigger lament is for the record album. I’m not talking about the vinyl; I’m talking about the album itself. The packaging was a big part of the LPs appeal. The 12 x 12 canvas provided ample space to provide information about the songs, the musicians, and other recording details. In some rare instances, there were bizarre “liner notes.” Plus, the cover itself was sometimes considered “art.”

The album, when viewed during playback, could transport the listener to another world. This whole experience was a bit of shamanistic magic, especially when the double-album served as a rolling tray.

Former Rolling Stone record critic turned filmmaker Cameron Crowe captured this magic in his film “Almost Famous.” The scene where his 13-year-old protagonist drops the needle on the Who’s “Sparks” –  well, that is a great cinematic moment that reflected the experience of so many music-loving baby boomers.

The Record Club Itself.

It was the Columbia House Record Club that first brought this “magic” to me. 11 albums for a penny? Impossible!!!

I spent hours upon hours looking at the Columbia House ads in anticipation marking up which 11 records I’d buy if I could. Once I had a paper route (and steady income), my parents agreed to sign me up and let the then 12-year-old buy his 11 records.

Then that big box arrived. It was incredible. It was perhaps the best day of my young life.

That first order had some incredible records in it. “The History of Eric Clapton, ” “The Who – Who’s Next,” “Elton John – Honky Chateau,” and “Yes – Close to the Edge” to name a few.  In my teens, I would go on to buy hundreds of albums frittering away my youth looking at the album artwork trying to discern the meaning of the lyrics while reading them. I’m not alone in saying these albums, especially “Jackson Browne – Late for the Sky” and “The Who – Quadrophenia” helped me make it through high school.

Conclusion.

I know these record clubs get a bad rap for their “negative option billing” practice. This requirement would automatically send members each month the “featured” album (unless they returned the card saying they didn’t want it).  I didn’t mind, as it meant more records for my collection and exposure to new music. There was no Rhapsody then.

One last thing, unfortunately, I initially had to play these great records on my parents ginormous Magnavox console system – the modern stereo was yet to come.

magnavox console

RIP – Columbia House!

Our 8 year-old wants to get “Ripped!”

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Originally published July 2010.

My wife had fallen asleep in the hotel room. Our 8 year-old, who we allow to watch TV on trips like this, was transfixed by an infomercial.

“Daddy, you have GOT to see this,” our son said shaking me out of what was nearly sleep, “and, we have got to order this, now, and we have to hurry, because I want to be RIPPED!”

On the screen was some guy, sans shirt, named Shaun T. He was encouraging his class to “dig deeper” and to “go for it” in what he was calling the “most intense workout of your life!”

MTV-style manic edits with cameras zooming in and out on ultra-fit models all with perfectly chiseled abs made it seem legit. T’s “revolutionary system” for getting in the “shape of your life” looked as easy as watching a few DVDs (and making the 3 easy payments).

I became intrigued. I watched some more.

I suppose I should be horrified that our 8 year-old is both aware of and concerned with such a narcissistic pursuit like getting ripped. But let’s face it; being smart is one thing. But being smart and being able to lift up your shirt to reveal a six-pack – well that is when you know you have reached the top of the USA’s success pyramid.

Being perfectly honest, I was a bit delighted with my son showing enthusiasm for something other than a video game.

“Daddy, this is something you, me and mommy could do together!” he said.  Imagine that…adding, “We can all get ripped, together, as a family!” Tears welled up in my eyes. Well, not really – that just sounds good.

“Daddy, this could be my present for graduating second grade!”

Graduating second grade? What the heck? I swear, the world has gone crazy. Since when was advancing from 2nd to 3rd grade something to even put on the calendar?

But guess what? On his last day of second grade I presented him with Shaun T’s Insanity. He was giddy beyond belief.

Me, well, I was looking over my shoulder for Child Protection Services (CPS) to bust in and cuff me for encouraging such extreme narcissism at a young age.

Then again exercise isn’t such a bad thing. I met my wife while teaching a high impact aerobic class. Maybe this will be fun for the family to do, together!

Now if only we can only balance Insanity with his Happy Meal consumption, I think our son will be ripped in no time!

Jackass #3 – The Guy who Invented the Timeshare

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Timeshares got their start in the late 1970’s.  This was when drunk people in leisure suits thought becoming a 1/52nd owner of a condo was a great idea – maybe even a significant “investment!”
Timeshares, it turns out, are a freaking rip-off. Nothing more than another money-making scam for investors and developers who are now long gone. Can you say, Charles Keating?
Google “timeshare resale” and you’ll see that people today are literally giving them away. I know individuals who bought one for literally 1 dollar.
Why do these timeshares suck so bad that people are giving them away?

  • Annual fees – you could get a decent hotel room for the equivalent of the annual “maintenance” fee. Better yet this is without the strings of a fixed place and time.
  • Self-serve administration – you need an enigma machine to decipher the rules for “keeping your week” or “converting your points.” You best be savvy. Otherwise, you’ll “losing your time” will be all you’ll get for you costly maintenance fees!
  • Nickel and Dime-ing– welcome to the world of the “reservation fee” “split-week fee” “transfer fee” “cancellation fee” all incurred when using the website!

Most of these timeshares were sold using the most high-pressure tactics around. A  “free” weekend at a “resort” turned into a 4+ hour sales pitch that would make used-car salespeople blush. Appeals like “isn’t your family worth $50 a week (over 10 years) to guarantee you’ll spend time together?”
Insulting. Only a jackass could say such a thing with a straight face.
Oh, and while you are googling “timeshare resale” go ahead and put in “timeshare litigation” and you’ll find 285,000 results.
A great moment in jackass history, the invention of the timeshare!