Me, Myself, and the Voices in My Head

A place to ramble and maybe make some sense about a thing or two.

Archive for the tag “video”

I wanna hollar the loud, funny words!!!

Good grief.  Another Wednesday evening spent watching American Diggers on Spike TV.  Why do I torture myself so?

Tonight they went to St. Augustine, Florida and down in the bayou area of Louisiana.  There were some neat relics found and I do have to give them kudos for finding a $20 double eagle, St. Gaudens’ design gold coin.  They’re rare and worth a LOT of money these days.

I could probably enjoy the show if it weren’t for one thing — the owner/host/announcer/blowhard Ric Savage.  He gives history and information about the places they go and the things they find as if he’s rehearsed whatever the production team’s researcher has pulled off the Internet.  He yells at the camera during the entire show and heaven help you if your television is accidentally turned-up a bit loud and he finds something he thinks is wonderful ’cause you’re going to hear him scream about it.  And not just any scream — the well-rehearsed scream that comes from professional wrestlers.

He fully admits that he used to be a professional wrestler (I still don’t remember ever seeing him in a match).  I once had some “professional” wrestlers (they got paid but weren’t on any of the big circuits) come into our store years ago and they talked about how they had to practice their “speeches” that they’d give after every match and there were classes on how to yell at the camera.  They also admitted that the hardest thing to do was to keep from laughing when their partner/friend/ally/opponent/enemy/whatever said something incredibly stupid.  That’s why when you watch professional wrestling, especially from the 1980s-1990s, you’ll see people gritting their teeth or sucking in their cheeks.  They’re not trying to look mean and vicious.  They’re just trying to not blow their cover as an actor.

And Ric’s got it down to a science.  Every time he yells he throws his arms up in the air and sticks his gut out with a loud howl.  And it’s usually a “boo-yah” or “woo-hoo” followed by something either unintelligible or the name of the place where they’re digging.  You can predict where every scream is going to happen in a show and they conveniently edit it so that you have to hear it multiple times.

Sadly, every time I watch the show I’m reminded of another show.  One that many people watched over the years and caused many parents to complain.  There’s an episode of the old Ren & Stimpy Show called “Mad Dog Höek” where the guys have just finished a wrestling match and both the winners and losers get a chance to make their cases.  It’s hysterical and I end up quoting it at one point during the show or another because it fits so perfectly.

And now, for your viewing pleasure, I give you the Ending Speech Scene from “Mad Dog Höek” — try to watch American Diggers and not think of this.  I dare you.


I have a stupidphone and I’m not afraid to use it!

I was sitting here staring at the screen just begging my brain to come up with something worth blogging about.  Husband suggested politics.  I quickly shot that down because everyone’s blogging about it.  Youngest Son said I should write about not being able to think of a subject.  I’ve already done that one this month.  And then, it happened.

The “incoming message” tone on my cellphone rang.  I looked at the screen and saw that it was from Biological Mother.  I opened the message and there was a teeny-tiny photo of some sort that even if I had 20/20 vision I’d still not be able to see it.  I sent a message back to her stating that I couldn’t see the photo and reminding her that my cellphone isn’t like hers.  She replied that it was a photo from and that she thought my phone could show any photo she sent.  I had to text her back to explain (for the I-don’t-know-how-many-th time) that my phone doesn’t work like hers and I can see photos she takes and sends but not something forwarded from the Internet.  I sat my cellphone down and started to get comfy on the couch before it rang and vibrated again — only to show her incoming message of “OK.”

Gah!!!  I hate that!!!  I really used to hate that when I had to pay for every message I sent or received and she would send “OK” or “K” after anything I texted to her.  I would tell her that her little ending notes were costing me money, but she’d only remember that for a few minutes and I’d get tons more messages.  When we had a horrendous ice storm in January 2009, we lost power and in order to save our batteries I sent a text to family members that we were fine and would only call or text if something important happened.  I lost track of the number of texts Biological Mother sent asking questions about things that didn’t mean diddly-squat when we were trying to keep ourselves from freezing.

And she’s not the only one in my family who does that.  Half-Sister does it too.  She and our mutual mother have a thing about wanting to send stuff by text.  As a matter of fact, while I’ve been trying to type this far into this post, Half-Sister has already attempted to forward the same thing to me.

Both of them have smartphones.  You know what those are, right?  The cellphones that can do all of the neat photos and videos.  They run applications that are useful, entertaining, and occasionally both.  People have been known to line-up outside of stores for days or weeks waiting for the latest and greatest to be released.  Some even now will talk back to you if you ask it a question.  I guess that’s good for those who are too enamored by their techno-gadgets to have relationships with real people.  And Biological Mother and Half-Sister have both, at one time or another, offered to “give” me one of theirs that was being replaced by a newer model.

I have a stupidphone.  You’ve probably never heard of one of those.  Actually, if you’ve ever had a cellphone prior to the days of touchscreens and voice recognition, you’ve had a stupidphone too.  These are the ones that allow their owners to place calls, take a photo, or even send a text message.  But not all at the same time and certainly not with any great fanfare about it.  I do not have an unlimited data plan or worry about how many bits/bytes of memory I’ve sent over the airwaves each month because I can’t do those things.  I have unlimited texting, but that’s because it’s a family plan and when you have Youngest Son receiving messages from his friends who also cannot remember that you have to pay for every message, it gets expensive.

Another reason I have a stupidphone is because I can think of many, MANY other things I’d rather spend my hard-earned cash on instead of a piece of plastic that will scratch or break easily and the “privilege” of using it by paying outrageous phone charges along with the basic plan and taxes.  I don’t Titterbook or Fweet on my phone and as a serious sufferer of ADD, I don’t need something like that distracting me.

I’m not a technophobe.  I try to stay as up-to-date as I can.  But I’m not going to bankrupt myself and my family to fling birds across a screen.

Now that I’ve spent over an hour trying to type this while still having to send texts back to the two of them explaining why my phone doesn’t do what theirs does, I’m going to end my post, put my phone back on the charger, and maybe watch a movie or two.  It’s Friday night — gotta have some fun sometime!

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