I run this joint. Don’t know where to start? Let me show you around:
[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jbn3rOPmR9w[/youtube]
Last month, Apple became the second largest company in America, according to Fast Company. That said, Apple is now bigger than Google, Microsoft, Walmart, General Electric, or any other enterprise not named ExxonMobil.
Wow.
WIMBLEDON, England – The longest match in tennis history was suspended because of darkness at 59-59 in the fifth set at Wimbledon on Wednesday night.
The first-round match between 23rd-seeded John Isner of Tampa, Fla., and qualifier Nicolas Mahut of France already had been suspended because of fading light Tuesday night after the fourth set.
They have been playing each other for a total of exactly 10 hours — 7 hours, 6 minutes in the fifth set alone, enough to break the full-match record of 6:33, set at the 2004 French Open.
Awesome.
Written by Chicken Little of the Digital Age
Technology is making us stupid.
Don’t believe me? Read this story about how Apple is now tracking the exact location of iPhone users and sharing it with advertisers.
Or this one documenting numerous Facebook security holes.
Or how have slowly made themselves more vulnerable while broadcasting there whereabouts on Twitter (NOTE TO BURGLARS: When I message that I’m away from home, don’t believe me).
Or the mother of all “You’re freakin’ crazy” behavior: The whole idea behind Foursquare (aka willingly telling the world your precise location so marketers and predators could potentially exploit you.)
I’m not saying the above mentioned technologies aren’t without their advantages. Or that we should shun the use of such technology.
But our intimate relationships with many (if not all) of these technologies have gone too far. As a result, our privacy has been compromised. In many ways, we’ve become our own oppressors. Obsessive sharing might even have consequences on our freedom.
The good news is that much of this can be reversed by hitting the power button or delete button. Of course, you need to know where you’ve posted personal information online, including photos. Delete the ones that no longer (or never did) have any utility.
But most of all, be wary of publishing anything online you wouldn’t broadcast on your front lawn (including your blog).
Now back to regularly scheduled TMI…
DISCLOSURE: This post was written by a protective husband and father. (D’oh! I did it again.)
Although the go-to topping for pancakes, waffles, and french toast, Maple syrup is overrated. O-V-E-R-A-T-E-D. (Sorry, Canada)
A far better alternative is buttermilk syrup. Better yet, you can make it from home, without that nasty high-fructose corn crap. (See my wife’s recipe in the comments below.)
I first tried buttermilk syrup a couple of years ago on pumpkin pancakes. Now, I insist on the delicious elixir anytime there’s a breakfeast “breading” in need of sweetening.
I recommend you do the same.
If there’s one thing I don’t like about BYU fans, it’s that some of them actually cheer for Utah when the latter are playing abroad “because it’s good for the Mountain West Conference.”
Sickos. (Didn’t anyone teach them that the enemy of my enemy is my friend?)
Thankfully, this lame behavior by Cougar fans should finally die as Utah this week became the newest member of the PAC-10 conference. So from now on, I expect Cougar Nation to root for the everlasting demise of the Utes.
In other words: Go, Washington. Go, Washington State. Go, Oregon. Go, Oregon State. Go, Cal. Go, Stanford. Go, USC. Go, UCLA. Go, Arizona. Go, Arizona State. Go, Colorado.
But most of all, go, BYU!
[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ezk0e1VL80o[/youtube] Appropriately making its debut during halftime of the USA-England World Cup game last Saturday, I love this commercial. Freedom aside, I also love all three American muscle car reboots: Challenger, Mustang, and Camaro very much included. Would probably buy the Mustang though.
[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J2TZXu-AwNs[/youtube]
With exception to the crazy-looking air guitar scene, this looks pretty sheen. But I’m a geek with a soft spot for ’80s movies.
[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EUTzrMZVAAw[/youtube]
In honor of the World Cup, which starts today, here’s how to call a goal, courtesy of Andres Cantor.
While considering a TV upgrade, Lindsey and I were price checking a nearby retailer yesterday. Thankfully for us, the outfit was showing a kids movie, so parents could shop around.
Lindsey and I didn’t wait to take advantage. After a few minutes, I glanced towards the girls to find my four year-old looking the opposite direction, peeking through tiny fingers, and squirming in her skin as she watched a sci-fi movie on a different TV. I then rushed over to rescue her from the gnarly Alien surgery taking place on screen.
She was pretty upset. And I’m sad to say I didn’t notice the movie beforehand. (Was neck deep in materialism—not parenting— at the time, okay?) She cried when we got home. Her mother wisely recommended prayer. I offered. It helped.
This morning, it was Sadie’s turn to pray. “Please help me forget scary movies,” she supplicated.
Cutest. Prayer. Ever.
It’s all over the second we ride up Troy’s bucket. Or is it?
WARNING: In case you get any ideas, my neighborhood is under an enforced watch program, which means we “immediately report all suspicious activities” to the proper authorities.
So yeah—I dare you to charge this impenetrable fortress of protection.
So long orange jumpsuits. Hot pink and bright yellow means you’re in jail in Cleveland County, Oklahoma. Awesome.
Like her daddy, I recently learned that my two-year old has a fetish for really good blues rock.
While listening to Band of Skulls on the way to St. George this weekend, Lindsey and Sadie weren’t as excited to hear the band. Meanwhile, I caught Maddie in a self-taught and deliberate headbang—she enjoyed it so much.
Rock. On.
It’s an album called Baby Darling Doll Face Honey by Band of Skulls. It costs $6 and is the most purely original rock and roll I’ve heard since, well, maybe Led Zeppelin.
Jack White, Jet, and Wolfmother may have reintroduced the world to blues rock this century. But the three-man Band of Skulls seems to have perfected it.
In a word, a revelation. (Thanks, David)
As this report so eloquently states, media is still best consumed with a mouse and keyboard, passive video, or with opposing hands leafing through pages of information. “Interactive media” as seen on the iPad is as useful as “multimedia CD-ROM dictionaries” from the 1990s, m’kay?
Now if you’re talking about entertainment, I’m all for gesture based interaction. But for straight consumption of information, give me visual ads, easy flowing editorial, and search.
If there’s one thing this world isn’t short on, it’s attractive women. Seriously, mature females are the most aesthetically pleasing things to look at. Heck, even girls can’t keep their eyes of each other.
But there’s a big difference between appreciating beauty and lusting after it. Which is why some dudes are unfriending attractive females on Facebook, in an effort to stay Marriedbook (crash cymbal please).
“I deleted an old high-school girlfriend,” a colleague told me recently. “She was posting some pretty racy photos of hereself, and I realized I didn’t need to be seeing that as a married man.”
In similar shoes, I felt empowered upon hearing this. Indeed, before quitting Facebook, I had to remove a couple of contacts from my account for similar reasons. But it’s encouraging to hear other married men fighting to stay happily married. It gives me hope.
On that note, do you have any electronic relationships that need deleting?
My wife has deservedly received traffic citations in the past, most recently last month for going 55 miles per hour in a 40. She also had a run in with a parked dump truck in March, so she’s in no way an innocent driver—particularly this year.
But yesterday, some cop short on quota caught her going 30 in a 25, just five miles over. He tailed her until her destination, a neighborhood birthday party, then flashed his lights as she pulled to a stop. He then barked at her for opening the driver door instead of rolling down her window, which she couldn’t do because the windows were tinted that morning. (Sob story, I know. But it’s true. The windows were all marked with “Do NOT roll down for 3-5 days,” which the cop clearly saw.)
There she was, a mother with three kids in the car—newborn screaming for her bottle—and this overzealous, insensitive, and unfriendly officer ticketed her. And he took his sweet time doing so, all while the baby was crying as if she was going to die (you know how they do it).
Make no mistake, I’m grateful for law enforcement. And I’m obviously biased here. But the stated facts weren’t embellished. This is just another case of some cop not having anything better to do.
Soccer doesn’t make much sense to Americans. Admittedly, it defies many principles we value most in domestic sports, including conclusive endings, lots of scoring, and sportsmanship (aka the opposite of this). Nevertheless, every four years, the World Cup turns numerous Americans into fans of the sport, including Los Angeles native Eric Altshule, who writes:
When I was 11, I thought soccer was gay. How could it not be? Sports was an activity broadcast on network television with production values and drunken announcers like Howard Cosell. Soccer was (at least in Los Angeles) a grainy, week-old, video of a Bundesliga game broadcast on PBS (which in itself is gay) narrated by some guy with a British accent. I played Little League and basketball, and one year my mom signed me up for soccer because she thought it was European, and thus cultural (i.e. gay). Our team name was The Leprechauns (how gay is that?) because some kid’s Irish dad was the coach. No thanks to my skills, we ended up winning our league, and I hid that trophy way back in the closet where nobody would ever see it and told my mom that I never wanted to play that dumb sport again.
These videos profiling World Cup final goal scorers are awesome for the following reasons:
Note: Smooth Harold will likely be overrun with World Cup-related posts for the next two months. You’ve been warned.
Facebook is a great way to stay connected with friends. It’s also a great way to stay connected with people you wouldn’t have otherwise, resulting in added noise and unwanted drama. Which is why I deleted all my “friends” and updated my status to the following:
“Blake Snow is currently on Facebook hiatus. (Pretty cool, no?) If you’d like to get in touch—either by email, status updates, RSS, or his blog—please visit his website. Or just talk to him the next time you see him.”
Why hiatus instead of deletion? Because Facebook has more than 300 million members, so it seems insular of me to completely disregard it. As is, I have the option to resume my account, and I still benefit from redirected search traffic. Will I ever come back? That’s the great thing about being on hiatus—I can defer my decision indefinitely.
Any predictions on how this experiment might conclude? Social suicide? Professional setback? Or better productivity and greater independence?
[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u7coJ0mc09Q[/youtube]
In preparation for a bigger car, Lindsey and I sold our beloved Jeep this weekend. As a replacement, we’re planning to buy a 2007 Ford Freestyle, which seats 6-7, but handles like car instead of a splashy SUV or van. After seeing the above commercial, I’m officially calling our anticipated new ride the Swagger Wagon. Only better because it’ll look like a Volvo instead of a paddy wagon.
I had the chance to cover Real Salt Lake last week on assignment for USA Soccer Stud. In addition to following two World Cup hopefuls from the press box, I snapped some pics with my trusty (but basic) SLR camera. Who knew sports photography was this hard!?
(Sorry for ever doubting you, photojournalists). Following are some of the better shots I took, sans telephoto lens, and by better I mean not very good. Keep reading…
PROVO, UT—Multiple sources today have confirmed that the fabled Mr. and Mrs. Blake Snow have decided to honor Fenway Park with their attendance this year. Set for a visit in October, the couple will realize a life-long dream of seeing the Evil Empire (read: Yankees) play Evil Empire Jr. (read: Red Sox) at the oldest active ballpark in America.
“We are thrilled to finally receive Mr. and Mrs. Snow as our personal guests to the Capital of New England,” said Thomas M. Menino, mayor of Boston. “Their reputation precedes them, so it truly is a source of pride for us. And since they are purported thousandaires, it wouldn’t hurt if they spent a little money on tourism.”
I snore—loudly, I’m told. My wife knows this. Anyone who has ever roomed with me knows this. This is my story.
Well I’m officially ready for the World Cup. Front side after the break. Continue reading…
Robert Bradford/USA Soccer Stud
NEW YORK—When you picture Brazil at the World Cup, you expect them in yellow. When you envision Italy, you know they’ll be wearing royal blue. England wears red. Argentina wears baby blue stripes. And Holland dons solid orange.
The United States? They don’t have a signature look, something U.S. Soccer and Nike are hoping to change with the release of new home and away “sash” jerseys. Yes, they look like something a beauty pageant contestant might wear. But there’s a meaningful reason behind the diagonal stripe.
I’m no conspiracy theorist. But I do believe in conflicts of interest. Which is why if I would never hire a foreign national team coach, like many modern soccer nations do.
I understand it’s faster to import coaching talent than to develop it yourself, something which can lead to immediate improvements. But let’s suppose England faces Italy in the World Cup final this summer, which is what they will do if both teams win their groups and go all the way.
England is led by Italian coach Fabio Capello. I’m sure he’s an honest man and all. And it’s doubtly he’d sabotage his employer by somehow jeopardizing said game. But the possibility of temptation is very real, solely because he is not a home grown coach. Never mind his proximity to Sicily.
With so much on the line then, why would a national team (of any sport) ever risk that?
Similar to The Beatles, U2 is a quartet that’s both polarizing and overrated. You either love ’em or you hate ’em. As a member of the former group—although to a lesser extent now, as the ’80s and ’90s were kinder to the band than the last decade—these are the group’s best, most rocking, or otherwise most awesome compositions to date.
As a self-employed individual, I’ve closed a lot of deals. Seven years worth, in fact. Enough to make me a thousandaire. But I’ve lost a lot more than I’ve won, something that’s expected in business.
What isn’t expected, however, are the rare occasions when a prospective buyer ridicules me for not meeting his terms. It usually happens like this: Buyer probes, likes what he sees, and then starts asking questions. We talk. I name my final price. He doesn’t like my final price.
But instead of walking away, like most sane buyers do, this buyer hangs around, and suddenly decides he no longer likes the free market. Continue reading…
U.S. Soccer
Unconventional bravery has always been USA’s winningest soccer strategy.
Although losing its first unofficial match 0-1 to Canada in 1885, the United States men’s national team beat Sweden 1-2 in its first official match played in 1916. Historian David Wangerin noted how the upset was achieved in my new favorite soccer book, Soccer in a Football World:
Sportswriter Carl Linde observed how much ground the American forwards covered and how their sheer willpower often compensated for a lack of technique. Linde claimed this style represented “a new way of playing” and that the visitors “form a very dangerous team, mainly through their primitive brutality; through their speed and through their will to win at all costs.” Another writer remarked that such energetic play made the home side Sweden look as though they were engaged in “exercise for older gents.” (p. 85)
After the game, U.S. coach Thomas Cahill added, “We were outclassed by the Swedish players on straight football. It was American grit, pluck, and endurance that won. No great football stars were members of our team, but we had the pluckiest aggregation ever banded together.”
To this day, America still plays a more primitive game when compared to giants such as Brazil, Italy, and Germany. You have to respect that. Otherwise you’ll slow play it as the underdog, ineffectively counter attack, and ultimately lose playing better opponents. This, I fear, is what U.S. coach Bob Bradley will do this summer to our team’s eventual demise. Continue reading…
“Oh Ten” has already been kind to sporting events. The Super Bowl was actually worth watching this year. The Winter Games were better this time than four years ago. And March Madness was crazy good—the most exciting first round I’ve ever seen, in fact.
But it doesn’t stop there. Grand Slam tennis picks up again next month with the start of the French Open, followed by hollowed Wimbledon a month later. The Atlanta Braves are gonna win the pennant this year and make it to the World Series. And college football will once again turn your Saturdays into the most important day of the week.
More than anything, though, I have World Cup fever this year. The U.S. opens against former colonizer England on June 12. And other first round match ups are equally oozing with riveting story lines and potential. Plus, all 64 games will be freely broadcast over air by either ABC or Univision in high-definition. (Note to self: Remember to buy bigger TV before hand; clear your schedule from Jun 11 – Jul 11.)
But enough about me. What are your favorite sporting events? What are you excited to watch this year?
Part of an ongoing series where anything I don’t like is labeled “un-American.”
I’ve been an American soccer fan for a long-time, and I can’t stand it anymore. Words like “pace” and “result” should be barred from the game.
In case you’ve never seen a soccer match, many soccer fans and sports writers use the word “pace” when describing a fast player. For example, they’ll say So-And-So “has pace,” or “is pacey.”
Dumbest thing ever. Continue reading…
Five years ago this week, I launched Smooth Harold. Coolest blog evar! Since its launch, if one thing has changed the site more than anything else, it’s been Facebook.
A quick glance at my front page reveals that not many people comment like they used to, even though traffic levels have remained the same. Since my blog is syndicated to my Facebook account, many readers prefer to comment there instead of here.
(Admittedly, I don’t post as much content as I used to, since Facebook is a superior way of bookmark sharing and pithy status updates.)
But maybe it isn’t just Facebook or Twitter that’s changed where people communicate online. Maybe the interest in the comment has waned. I remember when posting a comment was pretty fun. It was empowering. Now it’s almost blasé. And it’s annoying to skim through so many trolling comments. So commenting on Facebook, among trusted friends and family, ensures you don’t have to deal with the latter.
At the same time, I can recall numerous occasions where a complete stranger left an inspiring comment on my blog, something Facebook can’t offer (although Twitter can). So perhaps online commenting has become more insular, less democratic. At least on a personal level.
Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m out of touch. (Is this thing on?)
From doctored screenshots to recorded animations, in-game graphics often underwhelm
Left: Screen capture of a Madden 2005 trailer. Right: The final game, which looked noticeably worse.
Video games are a delight. In my eyes, they’re better than television, and right up there with books, movies, sport, and music as pastimes. But since their beginning, games have held a dirty little secret: they never look as good as advertised. Here’s why: Continue reading…
It’s called English Muffin Pizza. We had it for lunch today.
I’m not exactly sure of the origin, but I know Lindsey inherited the idea from her snazzy mother (thanks, Annette). The wife takes hers with pepperoni. The girlies and I are all about the cheese.
The recipe: English Muffin, sliced mozzarella, and your favorite pizza sauce and toppings broiled in the oven. Yum.
Excluding blog posts and short-news articles:
In case you didn’t know, I don’t like Wall Street. It’s not that I think the stock exchange is wrong, but I don’t like how its description went from being “speculation” to “investment” in the last 50 years. And I don’t like how it’s primarily sold to the uninformed public.
If you watch TV, chances are you’ve seen numerous investment commercials for Prudential, ING, Pacific Life, Merill Lynch, Charles Swab and countless others. What you might not have seen is the fine print during all this commercials: “Investment products may lose value” and “Investments involve risk.”
This of course is neatly tucked away at the bottom of the screen while some voice over promises an increase in wealth, a secure future, and guaranteed retirement. It’s yet another reminder that what these people are really selling is speculation.
In other words, know your stuff before playing the game, or stick to what you know if you want to protect and grow your principle.
Bert Williams is 90. You don’t him by name, but he’s the English keeper who allowed a single goal in the team’s monumental loss to America at the 1950 World Cup.
In an interview with the Associated Press this week, he said he was “virtually one of the spectators,” since England dominated possession, but couldn’t “get the ball past” the American defense. “As soon as England played a good ball through, the whole American team retreated to the 18-yard line,” the keeper remembers. “We thought the score should have been 8-1, 10-1 even.”
But it wasn’t. The U.S. won 1-0. Contrary to what ESPN reports, Williams said it was a freak goal that never should have been. “I had the ball covered and it was a deflection off one of their players who was standing in front of me,” he said. “I was going the right way. It just happened.”
What’s more, Williams said the Americans had “no intention of winning,” and even showed up to the game smoking cigars and wearing cowboy hats.
My response: We’ll take it. And have for the last 60 years.
Facebook is a great way to stay connected with friends.
It’s also a great way to get fired, have your insurance benefits revoked, or suffer public humiliation. As a result, a number of users are deleting their accounts and leaving the popular networking site behind.
For good.
“It just became too much,” says grade-school buddy and long-time friend Josh Rhine. “More an obligation than fun. It also started to smell like some one cracked an egg of high school over an old gossip rag.”
