To blog again, on a somewhat, semi-kinda regular basis.  Soon.  Ish.  Really.  Probably.  When I get a moment.

I smell a hit!   It’s a shame Bing Crosby isn’t around to record this for me.

I’ll be Strip-Searched For Christmas by David Goldstein

I’ll be strip-searched for Christmas

You can fondle me

Please don’t go from head to toe

And quickly, I have to pee

TSA will find me

and make me remove my jeans

I’ll be strip searched for Christmas

I’m glad my boxers are clean

I have a lot of CDs.

Hundreds and hundreds, I believe.

But nowadays everyone (including me) simply download new music onto their computers, iPads, iPods, iPhones, iWaterPicks, whathaveyou.

My old CDs take up 3 bookshelves of space in my office yet most of them have not been touched in years.

So why are they still there?

Because I bought them, that’s why. I refuse to toss any of them.  Even that Batman Soundtrack that Prince did 20 years ago.  Don’t play dumb.  You know the one I’m talking about.  Admit it.  You’ve seen 6,000 copies of it priced at $1.99 at every discount CD store you’ve set your foot in since 1989.  Everyone bought that thing and we all think it’s crap.

So why do I decide to keep mine?  Because it’s mine.  And I like keeping my stuff.

And that’s my problem with THE CLOUD — that abstract thing that floats around cyberspace and one day very very soon will hold all of our music, files, photos, videos, memories and dreams as we shred, melt down and recycle every last trace of mankind from 1776 to 2008 .

All well and good and environmentally friendly and futuristic.   But tell me — what am I going to pass down to my children?

“Here son, is a link to one of my favorite books growing up, The Catcher In The Rye.  I hope you will always cherish this… link.”

“Here, son, if your great grandmother’s favorite opal pendant.  Well, not here here.  But go to this secure banking website and you’ll be able to see it through my DropBox account.”

Excuse me if I don’t get teary-eyed.

So I guess the cloud is a mixed blessing in my opinion.  On one hand, I’m so happy to be able to carry all nine Chronicles of Narnia, 373 alternative bootleg recordings of Bob Dylan’s Blood On The Tracks and every episode of Sanford and Son Season 3 on my iPad whereever I travel.

Because I need to have those things with me.  All the time.  In case I want them.  Right now.

But I try not to forget, it’s nice to keep  some old stuff around the house too.

I’m sort of over Facebook.   If my relationship with Facebook was translated into marital terms you might say we’re having a “trial separation.”

Why?

I think Facebook oversimplifies who people are and the relationships they have with each other.  Everyone seems to be playing some sort of pseudo-version of themselves.  Here are some of the most popular “characters”:

ANNOYING OPTIMISTS: You know the type.  Never a cynical comment or snarky remark.  Just pure, unadulterated, relentlessly irritating positiveness.

Sample Status Update:  Harry just finished his 30 mile run after a really kick-ass home-cooked meal and some great forward-movement on his novel.    Wow, what a day!

BRAGGERS: much like the optimists, it’s not enough for them to be happy, they have to make sure everyone knows this.

Sample Status Update:  Pete is so swamped with career opportunities.   Where am I going to find time to attend David Geffin’s Labor Day party?

OVERSHARERS: honestly, I skim these…

Sample Status Update:  Glenda has an itchy rectum.  Any home remedy suggestions???

OBTUSERS:  they have nothing interesting to say so they attempt to couch their statuses with an air of mystery…

Sample Status Update:  Fred can’t believe she said that.  Day ruined!

SOCIAL FACEBOOK-TIVISTS: It’s always one obvious cause or another.

Sample Status Update:  Roger is against the spread of AIDS.  If you are too, cut and paste this into your own update!  Let’s use the power of Facebook to stop AIDS!

24 HOUR PARENTERS: They see Facebook as an endless live stream of adorable kiddie information.  And they assume we’re lovin’ it.

Sample Status Update:  Nancy is so proud of her little Colten — three trips to the potty with no poopy pants!

ALL-BUSINESS TYPES: They go months, sometimes years, without updating.  Then pop up only when they need something.  Then, they’re gone again…

Sample Status Update:  James is looking for a new dentist in the mid-town area.  Must be good with tweens.

So… which type are you?  Did I miss any?

I don’t know what the exact statistics are but people don’t watch the evening news anymore.  And I’m pretty sure I know why.

Because there isn’t any.

News, that is.  Who decided that there were 30 minutes of recent events worth discussing every evening?  The guy who sells Pepsi commercials, that’s who.

Me?  I know the truth.  Most of the things that happen in the world I don’t need to know about.  And the 13 seconds it takes me each day to scan Google News verifies this.   Don’t believe me?  Here’s a live sample:

“Pastor who threatened to burn the Koran decides not to” — when did we decide that not doing something is also news?

“Iran cancels release of detained American” — again, something doesn’t happen and it’s news.  Go figure.

“Jorge Posada cleared to play today’s game for the Yankees but will not play” – wow, we’re three for three in the “news of things not happening” department.

“Obama Defends His Economic Policies” — this falls under another popular news category — news of the incredibly obvious.    Tomorrow’s political headline: “Obama thinks he’s a pretty good President.”

“Justin Bieber hits state trooper with water balloon” — granted, this is very important news.  If I was 12.

“Facebook now more popular than Google” — no, not really news either.  But I do enjoy this irony:  I read about it on Google.

“Playboy model detained after trying to open plane door in mid-flight” — Finally!  Something I need to know about.  If that plane was flying overhead at the time I read it, I would know to duck.  Thank you, Google News.  Nobody wants to be crushed to death by a plummeting playmate.  And if they do that’s news to me…

I read an article on a tech blog not long ago that someone is developing the technology to allow us to use our smartphones as credit cards.   At first the notion was shocking to me.  What if we lose our phone?  Someone could access our credit card information.  Then I realized — those things we carry our in our wallets and purses — credit cards, I think they call them.  We lose them too.   So I guess it makes sense.  If I’m gonna be stupid and lose my phone, let’s turn the event into a total friggin’ mess –  I’ll lose my “credit card” too.  Why be subtle about it?  If you’re f–ked you’re f–ked, right?

Then it got me thinking.  My iPhone and it’s endless series of apps is capable of doing everything  from scheduling my appointments to downloading podcasts to streaming full-length movies to helping me remember where I parked my car.  But all that stuff is sooo 3 months ago.  iPhone, what have you done for me lately?   Here are some things I want next year’s iPhone 5 to do:

• Lighten my wallet/pockets – if you’re going to replace my credit card someday real soon, why not take it a few steps further?  Be my car keys.  Be my driver’s license.  Be my Costco membership.  And how about all that loose change jingling around?  Can you spit out a few quarters when I need them for the snack machine?  Also, here’s a thought — iLint.  I carry a lot of the old analog-style lint in my pocket.  Maybe I’d like to get rid of it and simply download any new lint I need from the App Store.

• Take phone calls –  I’m not talking about making or receiving phone calls.  I’m talking about TAKING phone calls for me.   See, people call sometimes.  But most of ‘em   I don’t really feel like talking to.  But I hate to be rude, so I chat.  Sometimes for over two minutes.  Can’t my iPhone just take care of that for me?  After all, it’s a “smartphone”, right?  Certainly it should be capable of a stimulating 15 minute conversation.  Geez, it already has all those news apps I downloaded,  would it be too much trouble to ask it to just take a damn minute to read them and catch up on current events?  Thank you.   That would free up so much more time for me to play Angry Birds.   And speaking of games…

• Play Games: Yes, smartphones have lots of neat games.  But who has time or patience to  learn how to excel at them?  So here’s what I want, Mr. Smartyphone.  I download ‘em.  You play ‘em.   And no cheating.  You’re an electronic device.   You have at least 7-8 hours an evening all by yourself on the charger.  What the heck else do you have to do all night?  Flirt with my iPad?  There’s plenty of time for you to make your way through all 6,000 levels of Osmos.

• iGlue: this one is simple.  I drop my phone a lot.  I’ve tried a bunch of different cases — thick, thin, rugged, white, black, bedazzled — but someday my luck is going to run out and I’m gonna accidentally break the thing.  So let’s cut to the chase — just glue it to me.  We spend 90% of our lives with our smartphones in our hands anyway.   Hands-free is good.  But hands-always might work better.  I’ll even take it in the shower if you make it water-proof.  Which leads me to my next suggestion–

• iSoap: They’re already the perfect shape.  Just add a touch of lavender and an anti-bacterial foaming agent and we’re set for scrubbing.  But please, give us enough lather to last through my 2 year contract.  I’d hate to have to pay the early upgrade penalty just because I practice proper hygiene.

I’m always on the look-out for a sure-fire way to make major bucks.  And to me there’s nothing less taxing of the mind than developing a new hit gameshow.  Let’s face it, if it’s not Jeopardy, it’s probably a show created for and by morons.

So here’s my pitch.  A show called

BABY TOY OR DOG TOY?!!!

The premise is self-explanatory.  Anyone who has both kids and dogs know that there’s a definite bleed-over — that cute stuffed animal you bought for your adorable infant ends up being Rover’s new snuggle buddy and that industrial strength chewing Kong that you’re supposed to fill with bacon grease to keep the dog busy becomes little Tyler’s favorite teething instrument.

And sometimes the lines are blurred right from the beginning and you can’t even remember what department of Target you’re browsing through.  So here’s a dry run of my brilliant gameshow idea.  See how well you do…  You have 3 seconds to determine each one…

GO!

Baby toy or dog toy?

It’s cute, it’s fuzzy, it’s colorful.  Little Gretchen would love to sleep with it in her crib.  Baby Toy!

BUZZ!  Wrong.   It’s a dog toy. Duh.  The Colossal Plush Dog Toy, retailing for $12.66 plus shipping and handling.   Come on, that was easy!  Why would any child want to sleep with an Octopus?   You know, like this one…

…which is a baby toy.  Obviously.   Okay, maybe that one was too hard.  You had no way of knowing that the first octopus was made entirely of hamburger.  So let’s try again…

Baby Toy or Dog Toy?

Well, this one is easy.  It is a dog.  There’s no way you’re giving a dog another dog to gnaw on.  So it’s clearly a baby toy.

BUZZ!

WRONG.  Dog toy.  Apparently dogs love nothing more than chewing on smaller dogs in order to develop strong teeth and gums.  Who knew?

Alright, try again…

Baby Toy or Dog Toy?

Errr… um… See, this one is pretty hard.  Because, well, what are they?  Stuffed animal roadkill?  Something called “The Melti-pets?”  A rooster with scoliosis?   I’m gonna have to say… dog toy?

BING! That is correct.  They’re called “Bungee Doggie Toys”.  And they can stretch to over 18-24 inches!  Because there’s nothing more enjoyable than taking your dog to the vet after he’s ingested two feet of toxic elastic.

Now, here’s an easy one…

Baby Toy or Dog Toy?

Um… well it’s a ball.  Babies like balls.  And dogs don’t like — oh wait, yes they do.  Especially the dogs that no longer have their own balls.  Which I never understood.   Does that mean when a dog fetches it’s psychologically trying to “fetch” it’s own testicles?  Anyway, I’m gonna say… Dog Toy?

BUZZ!  Half-wrong!  This was a trick question.   The one on the left is called a Wobbly Wobbly.  And it’s a dog toy.  The one on the right is called a Nobbly Wobbly.  And it’s a baby toy.  Clearly.  Because it has the nucleus-looking thing in the center that helps teach children about physics.  Don’t be such a dumb-ass!

Oh, never mind.  This game is way too hard for daytime television.

Technology, as we all know, can be both a blessing and a curse.   It makes our lives faster, easier, more accessible, and convenient.  But there’s a drawback.  It also gives people a thousand more lame excuses.

And our deep dark secret is — we like it that way.  If it wasn’t for the hypothetical failures of our collective gadgets and devices we’d actually have to be responsible and respectful of other people’s time and efforts.

So let’s cut the crap and just all agree that the follow statements are no longer valid:

1.  “I didn’t get your voicemail.”

Rebuttal: Bullshit.  If voicemail is so buggy and precarious, even in 2010, then why is it that the only time I don’t get a voicemail is when the person who is (allegedly) calling me is a known flake?   Did AT&T decide that only the consistent, responsible people in my life are allowed to leave messages?  You’re lying and I’m not buying it.

2.  “Weird.  I saw on my call log that you called but I didn’t hear/feel it ring.”

Rebuttal: Okay, admittedly, this happens to me quite a bit.  After all, I live in a canyon area with a weak signal, I use AT&T, and — to top it off, as if I’m almost daring phone calls not to go through — I bought an iPhone 4.  That said — you’re lying.  You saw my call and you ignored it.  How do I know?  Because you texted me 15 seconds earlier.  I then followed up with a call because I thought it was a more efficient and polite way to interact — but you decided that even though you had time to type, spell-check and Wikipedia your 6 paragraph text to me, an actual phone interaction was too burdensome.

3.  “I got a flat tire.  It was crazy.  Totally screwed up my whole day. Sorry I missed our lunch/meeting/Irish folk dancing class.”

Rebuttal: You lying son of a gigolo.  Unless your tire burst and your car ran over your cell phone there’s no reason why you shouldn’t have called to let me know — as opposed to waiting two days to contact me.  I’ll go as far as to say, if your car has a flat tire, now more than ever you have all the time in the world to call.  You’re standing on the side of the 405 freeway waiting for AAA to come, for God’s sake!   What the hell else are you going to do besides making phone calls?  Pull out your knitting and finish that onesy you’ve been working on for your step-sister’s baby? Call me and tell me you have to cancel!  Call AAA first.  Then me.

4. “I sent you an email? Didn’t you get it? Geez, it must’ve just vanished into cyber space.”

Rebuttal: Hello.  1997 called.  It’s wants its excuse back.  Email works.  And if it doesn’t it bounces back to you.  You’re lying and you’re very bad at it.  Where the hell did this alleged email of yours end up anyway?  Did it overshoot Earth and hurl itself at lightspeed towards a Dell laptop on Neptune?  At least have the decency to update your stupid excuse.  Heck, blaming it on the Y2K bug would be an improvement.

5.  “Oh, shoot.  You emailed me about ___ ?  I didn’t know.   I haven’t checked my email for a couple of days.”

Rebuttal: Bullshit.  It’s a known fact that every human being in the civilized world checks their email every 37 seconds.  I’m supposed to believe you’re different?  You’re not.  As a matter of fact you’re worse.  Because you’ve programmed your Android phone to play the opening 2 bars of “Whoop, There It Is” whenever you get a new email.

6.  “I just got your message now.  I left my phone at home/in the car/up my ass/ in a tide pool.”

Rebuttal: Errr… No.  How do I know you’re lying?   Because you’re a dork and you wear your phone attached to a belt clip, armored in something that looks like it’s about to be shipped off to battle in Afghanistan along with that stupid bluetooth ear piece you won’t take out of your ear for 5 minutes unless you’re submerged under water or the lady at Supercuts complains that she can’t even out your sideburns unless you take it off.  You never leave your phone anywhere and you’re not about to change your habits during the the 12 seconds I happen to choose to call you.  You’re lying and on top of it you look like a stupid Borg.

7.  “Sorry I won’t be able to attend your birthday party.  I’m taking a group of troubled teens to Knott’s Berry Farm for the evening.”

Rebuttal: HA!  You heard me.  Ha!  How do I know this is utter crap?  Because you’re not that nice a person.  And because you updated your Facebook status 15 minutes after my party started with “… is rockin’ this yummy turkey leg.  This has got to be the best Renaissance Fair ever!” If you’re going to be a stinky lying liar, then you better learn to cover your social networking tracks a little better.

My 2 1/2 year old son will undoubtedly live in a very different world than the one I grew up in (known to VH1 as the “totally ’80’s).  Some things he should expect:

• Due to technology and it’s erotic implications, the “bases” will all change.  They will be as follows:

1st base: texting back and forth with winking emoticons

2nd base:  “Sexting”

3rd base:  Virtual dry humping (not sure what this will be like but I guarantee it’s on the way)

Home Run:  Instant Messaging in the same hot tub

• He won’t know what a phone cord is.  He won’t know what a rotary phone is.  He will watch an old movie where the President picks up the “Red Phone” and wonder where the apps are stored.

• Facebook will become it’s own virtual country — and it will win the World Cup in a close 2-1 match over The United States of Twitter.

• There will be remote controls that only have one function — to find your other remote controls.

• He will either be cyberbullied or (hopefully not) he will be the cyberbully.  Either way, it’s pretty much assured a “cyber-wedgie” won’t be as painful as the “analogue” version I grew up with.

• He will have to learn how to kill zombies in order to survive

• Mickey Rourke’s face will look exactly the same.  And I don’t mean that in a good way.

• Football players will wear iPads as protective gear and as a way to stream funny You Tube videos in between downs.

• The robot uprising will take care of 90% of the zombie problem.

• He will dig up my old blog posts and dad’s attempts at “comedy” will embarrass him.

• There will only be 3 “official” Indiana Jones movies, and that disappointing 4th one with the aliens will be retitled “Star Wars: Episode 7 — Han Solo forgets to shave”

The old saying goes “everyone thinks they’re a critic.”  But I contend, what everyone really thinks is that they know what the future will be like.

Well, guess what?

We’ve shot past 1984, 2001 — heck, even 2001′s ugly step-child sequel 2010 is soon to pass.

And if there’s one thing that countless sci-fi movies, television shows and books have proven it’s that nobody knows a damn thing…

WHAT THEY GOT WRONG:

Clothing.  It’s not getting tighter and more uniform like on Star Trek.  It’s getting baggier (as in, below-ass pants and “shorts” that go down to your ankles) and frankly, kinda random and ugly (I’m looking at you, Ed Hardy!)

Sidenote:  Prince now says the internet is dying.  But then again, 25 years ago he thought Morris Day and The Time’s new dance craze “Oak Tree” was going to sweep the nation (“spread yo branches, you know what to do!”) so he’s been known to be… um… very wrong.

We all know this new century’s biggest disappointment:  no flying cars.  Well, unless you consider certain models of Toyota which don’t fly so much as refuse to stop.  Sorta the same thing, I guess.

Sex robots.  Not a reality (as far as I know).  Who thought that in this quasi-futuristic day and age goats would still be the pervert’s sex partner of preference?

A new Karate Kid??? I gotta say, I never saw that coming.  Why would we need a new one?  The old one is 48 and still refuses to age. (no joke!)

Twinkies are still around.  No, I’m not talking about the brand name.  I’m talking about the Twinkies in my cupboard.  Still as fresh as the day I bought them in 1983.

For awhile, in the 1980′s at least, it seemed that everyone was so interested in making T.V.s really small.  T.V.s for your watch, T.V.’s to carry around like a radio.  I had figured by now they would be the size of the postage stamp.  Wrong.  My T.V. is so large it could crush an elephant (in stunning HD!)

Faxing.  It was always awkward, ugly, unreadable.  Undignified.  And it still refuses to die.  I’m telling you people, we will never get our friggin’ flying cars if we don’t give the hell up on faxing once and for all!

Lots of first names with Z’s and X’s in it.  We were all supposed to have them by now.  I guess this was an notional-offshoot based on the assumption that aliens would have landed and we’d be mating with them and naming our children Zorgax and Xanzy.

Atomic monsters?  Nope.  No Godzillas, Mothras, Gameras.  All we have to show for the nuclear age is this giant tomato:

Cure for the common cold?  Nope.  Cheese Stuffed Crust Pizza?  Sure, we got that!

And while we’re on the topic of food science.  The (present day) “future’s” biggest crushing disappointment, according to me:

Seedless watermelon.  Why?  Oh, I don’t know.  Maybe because you’re NOT REALLY SEEDLESS???

You’ve replaced black seeds with white seeds!  How is this seedless?!!!

If I had a flying car right now I’d go for a long fly just to calm myself down.