Twitting

I really am getting on a roll with this.

I know, ignoring one creative outlet for a different one.

Prof_Matthew

My Take: Video Game Review

Anyone can tell you if you should play a game or not. What works and what doesn't. But while I'm very opinionated, does that sound educational? I'm all about the educational. So instead I'm going to focus on what I learned about the world and myself while playing a particular game.

First up, Batman: Arkham Asylum.

Batman is awesome. We all know that. Anybody who doubts this probably should not be my friend because I'm going to question your judgment on just about everything. Sure, I'm not as obsessed about him as some people. But I get the attraction. And that doesn't even bring Julie Newmar as Catwoman and her influence on me.

This game is the first I've played where you feel at least a little like you're putting on the cowl.

What I learned: Why would any human being actually live in Gotham if you had the chance or means to get the hell out? If you think crime is high in your city, at least it isn't so overrun with serial killers that the you need a psychotic just to try to keep them in line. Batman is the best case scenario. That's messed up, yo.

Think about it. Twins in Gotham? Targets. Rich people? Targets. Stand up comedians? Targets. Beautiful people? Targets. Birthday on a holiday? Target. Very smart? Target. Heck, have a love of hats? Target.

And this doesn't count the number of sociopaths who just target everybody.

Probably more folks don't leave because they can't get anyone stupid enough to take over their mortgages.

That said, this game is so much fun. Best Batman Game Ever. Mark Hamill rocks. Art is great. Final boss fight disappoints but getting there is more than worth it.

But it needs Catwoman.

Expanding the social media empire

I've opened a twitter account.

It is for the life I should be leading.

Otherwise known as the life I am leading IN MY IMAGINATION........

Cause life is too short not to be entertaining.

Here piggy, piggy, piggy

Spoiler alert, this story may upset some people (if curiosity got the better of you M. then "hey there!").

So a Friend of Professor Matthew and her wife got a couple of cavies as pets (that's the technical name for guinea pigs. Now you've learned something). And that reminded me of a story from before I was Professor Matthew and was just Youngster Matthew.

The Sisters of Professor Matthew frequently had cavies as pets. So when Middle Sister of Professor Matthew asked for one as a present for her birthday one year, the Official Parents decided that she was old enough to handle the responsibility (which meant that she was old enough that Official Father would not end up doing all of the waste management).

Off to the pet store we went. Official Middle Sister picks one out. It gets brought home and put in a temporary home. We children observe it. Much speculation is made that it is acting odd. But if you've ever had a cavy as a pet you know that pea brained and nervous rodents. How can you describe them anything they do as odd? Odd is standard operating procedure.

Still, this one seemed "Just not quite right."

Next morning Official Older Sister and I are first up. We head to the kitchen for breakfast and also to check on the critter. It is not moving.

OOS: "I think its dead."

Me: "Nah, it's breathing."

"No, it's dead."

"It's asleep."

"You're wrong."

"I'll show you." And with that I scoop it up.

It was stiff. Dead long enough for rigor mortis to set in. I responded with something eloquent like "Glaaaah!" and dropped it.

To this day I will swear that it bounced a little.

For a sense of closure, I'm pretty sure that the corpse was taken back to the store and exchanged for a more "alive" one. I'm not sure if a receipt was necessary.

I know what it means to leave New Orleans

Just got back from a conference in New Orleans.

It was a strange mix of work, fun, and self-analysis. I guess it is only fitting in a town with NO's reputation. When I first thought about writing it up, I thought about doing some sort of diary entry, spelling out the day and what occurred of note. That almost seems too traditional and mundane to cover it.

Some highlights though:

I caught up with a friend from high school days. How do you overcome two decades of time? Amazingly enough I like to think we might have succeeded. Time will tell on that but I also feel I put to bed some of my lingering issues from then. I also learned just how much goes on that one is oblivious to knowing. We think we know most of the picture. Some times we have the equivalent to a snap shot and a piece of twine. Clues that we think tell a story but turn out to be far short. I also had the best cup of coffee I've ever drank.

My life never stops being surprising or entertaining. I saw a horse cop ride half way in to a karaoke bar and dance on the back of his mount to a hip hop song (yes, I and several of my friends sang at the bar. No, I was not the person on stage at that moment). I got to witness part of the New Orleans Red Dress Run, an excuse to drink and for many participants to cross dress. Just now I remembered that I saw two tranny hookers. At 1:30 on a Saturday afternoon. I had someone explain to me and a friend in much more detail than was called for the details of his heart attack.

I had several of the nicest meals of my life. In case you were wondering, haute cuisine appears to be about reducing food down to its essence flavors. A feast for the senses. Very indulgent. I highly recommend it. But at the same time there is something analytical about it. The experience gets in the way of the nourishment. Comfort may not be a transcendent experience but it sticks to your ribs. Some times we feed our body. Some times we feed our soul. Haute cuisine falls somewhere between those two poles. I'm glad I got to do it.

Actual conversation (slightly paraphrased) that happened to me on the streets while I was taking a photo:
Strange woman who may or may not have been hitting on me: "Can you answer a question for me?"
Me as I realize she is not going to walk into my shot so I can take it: "I can try."
SWWMOMNHBHOM: "Why are guys such douchebags?"
Me: "Testosterone."
SWWMOMNHBHOM: "Really?"
Me: "Yes."
SWWMOMNHBHOM: "That's it?"
Me: "Yes."
SWWMOMNHBHOM: "How do you get them to stop being douche bags?"
Me: "Hurt them."
SWWMOMNHBHOM: "Wha?"
Me: "You've got to hurt them in such a way that makes them realize how much they are hurting other people."
SWWMOMNHBHOM: "Oh. That won't work. He's always going to be a douchebag.....Oh no. Oh no! OH NO! OH NO! Someone is calling me a douchebag!"
At that point she ran down the street to have a half shouted conversation with someone she had seen walking towards us. And of course she was drunk. It was after noon. But her title was long enough.

By the time I left I was nearly crushed by the longing to see Wife again. We had been apart for over a week due to overlapping trips. Suck ass to a painful degree.

I also must say thank you to B.S. for being there.

And to E. and N. for new experiences and hopefully new friendships. And for making me feel welcome with the cool kids. I have no idea if either of you will ever read this. But if you do, I'd just like to say: "Porn."

It seems the most appropriate way to summarize the trip.

Something else for the young lad on the town

Long time reader(s) or those who got really bored one day at work and went through the archives might recall that I'm willing to share my wisdom regarding how to be successful when wooing a lady.

So I've come up with a few more ideas in that vein. These are pick up lines that I have modified to be more modern or more successful. If you use these on the lady of your choice I guarantee results.

(Note that Professor Matthew has a much different definition of results than you may be thinking of. Also, this guarantee is useless in a court of law or a bar or the ladies room of a family restaurant, or anywhere else you go to pick up women).

So here are modern pick up lines for the modern randy lad (I leave it up to you to find the original if you are so inclined):

• If I told you that you have a beautiful body would you allow me to photograph it and post it to my facebook page?
• I hope you know CPR because in the current economic climate insurance rates are becoming cost prohibitive.
• Do you know karate? Because I bruise easily and would hate to be kicked.
• Are you from Tennessee? Because I hear Memphis has some really great bbq and I really like bbq.
• Baby, I'm no Fred Flinstone, because he is a fictional character and also quite a bit dated as a cultural reference at this point.
• Pardon me miss, I seem to have lost my twitter username, could I borrow yours?
• Would you like a staring role in my next vlog?
• Is your father an investment banker? Because he must have acquired the stars through a ponzi scheme and put them in your eyes.
• Do fries come with that ass?

So there you go. Good luck and remember to get a DNA test before you admit to anything in a deposition.

Can't be bad

Got an email from a former student that some advice I had given her had actually been useful. And that her roommate had actually read the blog. So first, "Hi roommate of former student. I'm sorry you were so bored that you read my ramblings."

As for the gist of tonight's post, if you were ever wondering why I teach (not why I teach media because that's pretty obvious by now if you are paying attention) but why teaching instead of a job making media, that email would be why. I hope that my lessons are useful and have benefit to the students. But it's hard to say even when they tell you while they are still at school. Trust me, I've had my fair share of brown nosers and grade grubbers.

And then a former student lets you know that yes, indeed, you taught them something that did made a difference. And that's the payoff.

Do you understand how intense it feels to have someone tell you that? Let's just say it fucking rocks and get back to our lives.

Winter Break

Yes, I'm being lazy. I'm trying to get over it but no promises.

I'm loving the video game Okami. I highly recommend it. I'm up to 26 hours of playtime and the end is not in sight quite yet.

I apologize for bringing this cold snap to our area. Wife and I tried to go for a scooter ride yesterday and watched the weather change from fall to "winter" within the first five minutes. We turned back for safety sake.

And in news you already knew, itunes store is a dangerous, dangerous thing.

I didn't mean to do it

I finished the grading I was going to do last night. Dog sat next to me looking sad since I was ignoring her to get work done. So I said to myself,

"Self, we'll just watch a little TV and give Dog some attention."

TMC was showing The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3. Next thing I realize it's 3:30 in the morning. Yay, 4 and a half hours of sleep.

But how can you say no to the combination of Dog hugs and Robert Shaw?

You don't. Robert Shaw will hurt you if you do.

The joys of pet ownership

Wife left for work while I was upstairs in the bathroom taking care of business, if you know what I mean. I could hear the sound of plastic rustling shortly thereafter. I knew one or both of the critters was up to now good. Possibly they were even working in cahoots.

I called Dog's name. Normally she drags herself upstairs just in case I'm calling her for a good reason. Today, nothing. I called again. Pause in the rustling. Then it continues.

I finish and head downstairs. Dog comes running up to me as if I have been away for years. Now this is not too far off from normal behavior but she was overselling it considering she didn't show up when called.

It is at that point that I notice the bag of candy on the floor. I walk up to it. Dog follows and tries to act surprised.

If she could talk I imagine it would sound something like this, "How did that get there? You should pick it up before someone figures out how to rip it open and get to the yummy, yummy goodness contained inside.... By the way, any thoughts on how someone without thumbs would rip it open? I'm just curious. Not for me of course, the cat was asking."

The bag was still intact though a little wet with slobber. Dog then changed tactics and acted like sleeping on the couch was all that she cared about in this world. Since no one was caught in the act, no punishment was given out at this time.

Polls are still open

Voting so far:

Mutton chops: 4
Chin strap: 1
Van Dyke: 1

I have an official type event next Monday so I'll keep voting open till then I think. Tuesday will be the big shave morning.

When it's time to change

If you're a regular reader you are aware that I'm a man of many skills and growing facial hair is one of my best. But lately I've been feeling a little uncertain with regard to what to do next with it.

So I'm leaving it up to a vote by readers. Whatever the majority decides, I will do with my facial hair.

Wife has selected four options from the following illustration:

http://www.dyers.org/blog/beards/beard-type-chart/

The four finalists are:

Chin Curtain
Friendly Mutton Chops
Petit Goatee with mustache (technically a Van Dyke but the Van Dyke illustration isn't a Van Dyke)
Soul patch

So pick one of these four and vote for it in the comments section.

Yes, you can tell me which of the other options you'd rather see, but pick one of the four as well. And if you're wondering currently I'm closest to the Zappa currently.

In hindsight I could have told you this would happen

So after all my posts about how much I love Halloween, how did I spend it? Let's just say there was no need to warn the authorities.

I did wear one of my very fine smoking jackets to work and it was successful. Or at least a bunch of folks lied to my face about how much they liked it.

Then Wife and I tried to go to a southern diner for dinner only to find out that it had gone out of business. So instead it was a trip to Cracker Barrel where we did buy some candy after the meal. During the meal I also had the joy of convincing her it was not the best idea to spend nearly 500 dollars you kind of don't have on eyeglasses you kind of do not need. Always fun to have to be the spoilsport asshole responsible one (I have a much longer post I'm working on about that topic).

This was followed by sitting on the couch while we listened to a remake of the War of the Worlds broadcast celebrating the 70 year anniversary of that historic event (I'll get to lecture on it this week in my Mass Communication class. Ask me about it if you're interested). Wife enjoyed it so much that she slept through most of it and then was too tired to sing Karaoke with me.

Yep, I'm a wild man. How did you celebrate?

Not my fault!

I'm not exactly what one would call skilled at mechanics. I'm much better at what some would call bodging. Or trial and error. Wife worries when I try to work on the scooters because some times things go well but more often things go wrong and I learn the hard way that's not how to fix something. Then there is swearing and anger and sweat.

And more swearing. I know I wrote that already but it needs repeating because there is often a lot of it. I'm more skilled at it than I am at things mechanical.

It is for this reason that I no longer own any vintage bikes or scooters. In order to learn how things work I run the risk of doing more harm than good.

So recently there have been two things that needed fixing but I couldn't get it taken care of myself. But each time I've been vindicated in the end.

First our bathroom sink kept getting clogged up. Over and over I would treat it and plunge it and get it draining for a little while but it would clog again. I finally got so frustrated I called in the landlord. It turns out that the pipes are so old that 80 years of iron flaking off the sides of the pipe had fused in to a solid plug of metal. It took several days for the landlord and a plumber to cut the pipe out and replace it. No way I could have fixed that.

Then this week I put a new back rest on my scooter. It was getting near dusk when I went to put it on. Wife actually said I shouldn't because it was getting late and she was worried there would be anger.

While I was removing some old bolts that needed to be replaced I did manage to strip it. Luckily I was able to attach the back rest temporarily and arrange to have the stripped bolt removed at a friend's house. He has elite mechanic skills.

I went over there today to get it taken care of. He used a tap and die to try and get it out and snapped on him. The bolt was so locked in that it broke the tool. He ended up having to file down the head of the bolt so he could grab it with pliers to force it out.

After it was all over I said that at least now I know it wasn't my fault the bolt got stripped by the allen wrench. He said, "Oh yeah, that wasn't operator error." Not my fault seldom sounds so sweet.

Rocktober has started

I love Halloween. Shocking, I know. A guy who loves April Fool's Day also loves playing dress up. I'm sure you're dumbfounded right now that this could be the case. But I do.

One year in undergraduate (I almost wrote one year in college but that does not narrow things down too much does it?) I even went so far as to shave one of my eyebrows for a Vanilla Ice costume. Sadly for you that while I have pictures of this event, they exist in the days before digital cameras were commercially available. It took weeks to grow back properly and itched. A lot. Totally worth it.

I'm just that dedicated to my costumes. Last year Wife and I dressed up as the scariest thing imaginable in our little town. Homeless people.

We went to a party where folks were possibly even more dedicated than I am to creating their costumes. Or they just have loads of money to spend on them. Who knows? The funny thing is that I think Wife and I were a little too convincing. We mostly just got stared at by people as if we were there to steal food and beverages. And since no one wanted to talk to us, ended up just eating their food and sneaking out. Like I said, dedicated to a theme.

I have more thoughts on costumes but I think I can get another post out of it tomorrow. So, on the outside chance that I still have readers, why not post in the comments section your favorite costume memory of all time?

Pretty happy about this

I know I don't post often enough but this one is kind of important. Friday was Wife and my nine year wedding anniversary. Can't be bad.

I'm hoping for many, many more years of these.

Nostaligia

I'm watching X play a live show on television right now.

It is inspiring strange thoughts. You want to know the truth? When my dad was the age I am now, he had three kids, two of whom were teenagers, and it wasn't very long till a fourth was on the way. There are days when I spend all day on the couch playing video games. How have I managed to accomplish so much and yet still remain a big kid?

I think the Universe just loves me.

Speaking of X, I actually saw John Doe drinking in a hipster dive bar in Chicago once. It was pretty surreal to look over and think, "That guy looks like John Doe. Huh, because it is John Doe." He was being chatted up by a young thing. Or chatting her up. I didn't stick around the whole night to find out how that worked out. But now you can say you've read a blog post by someone who drank in a bar with one of the stars of Roadhouse. As an aside, Wife has a great fondness for that movie.

And didn't you think Exene should have died from the hard living she was doing? Nice to see at least one old punk rocker didn't become a total cliche.

April Fool

You know what sucks about getting older and more responsible at work? No more April Fool's jokes. At least not any really good ones. Ones that really freak people out. I had access to my department head's office while she was teaching a class (I was dropping something off and she had let me know her office was unlocked). And I did nothing to it. I played nice. Not even a little something. And I'll regret it for the rest of my life. Or at leas till next year when I don't think I can let such an opportunity go.

While the exact reason for this activity is lost to history, some speculate that it originates out of the transition to a calendar that started on January 1st. Those that did not know about the switch or refused to recognize it continued to celebrate April 1st as the start of the year and were the victim of pranks for their "ignorance".

I love pranks. A little anarchy. A little surrealism. Nothing cruel or mean. Just shaking up the status quo. Taking people out of their everyday habits. I have a cat named Loki. I have a tattoo of Coyote the Trickster.

Back when I was an undergraduate I worked at the campus radio station. And we knew that a certain key unlocked the station manager's office. So one night we put every chair in the station outside of the ones in the dj booth into his office. It was around 15 to 20 chairs. Another time we tped it. And I mean at least two rolls.

I could prank Wife but that isn't enough of a challenge. She trusts me. Well, enough that it would be too easy. Again, getting too old. Though there is still time. I think I'm going to have to make a phone call or two tonight. Somebody needs pranked. I'll let you know who I hit and how it goes. Maybe......

Guitar Hero

That is why I'm not posting more. Guitar Hero. If you play it, you know the joy it brings.

If you don't, well, what are you waiting for? It is awesome and terrible in its power to addict and enslave. Don't say I didn't warn you. I taught my department head how to play last week. I'll be taking my system in for the last day of lecture in my class on video gaming and she's asked to "observe" the class that day. I'm pretty sure I could talk her into getting it so we can have it around our offices. For research purposes of course.

At this point I'm starting to almost get comfortable with medium difficulty. But I'm still not ready to attempt to tackle hard. Soon hopefully, but not yet. I also really wish Wife would play but she's a little intimidated by it. She's from the Genesis/ Super Nintendo era of controllers. Anything more than three buttons starts to overwhelm her a little. I wish it wasn't so because I'd like to share this with her, but such is life. She is willing to hang out with me and read while I play, something she doesn't do with a lot of other games.

By the way, if you didn't pick up on it in the second paragraph, yes I get paid to talk about and play video games. My job is cool.

Just touring the bridges

We finally managed to hook up with area scooterists and go for a ride on Sunday. Well, area means an hour north in this case. It's not that there aren't a lot of scooters all over our town. Just that most of them are tourists, renters, and the like. I get the impression that some of them are liquor bikes too. What's a liquor bike? Lose your license for drunk driving and get a small scooter. In some states you don't need a license to operate one so it is an attractive option for the drunk with the need to go visiting.

One funny thing that happened during the ride is that I ended up leading it for a little while. I just took it on a simple loop because that is all that was asked of me. But it is funny how often I do end up leading rides. Once I ended up leading a ride of around 100 lost riders in a city I didn't live in because the folks in charge of the ride were dealing with a crisis. Why did I end up being the one to lead the group? Because no one else wanted to. If I was being honest I would say because I'm kind of anal like that. I sort of gravitate towards being the responsible person in group activities. I know, shocking that a college professor would have that sort of personality. I was successful in getting the group back to where it needed to be though.

Supposedly there are folks here in town who like to scooter like we do. It is my favorite method of getting to work (I live four blocks from work and I still take the scooter many days instead of the bicycle. I know, not very green of me). I also love to just go for a ride. See the countryside, get lost and then get unlost. Go places I'd never go otherwise. We did hook up with the vintage motorcycle crew and once I get some help and get my 1966 Honda running properly I'll do some riding with them I hope. But my scooter is reliable, always there and always ready to go. I wish I had a better facility with language to convey the joy it gives me when I go for a ride. I wish you'd come with me so you could see for yourself what I'm trying to communicate. Anytime you want to come with, let me know. I'll dig out the spare helmets.