Remember MySpace? I digress.

So … “blogs about nothing” — it’s what I know most about.

Well … I was driving home the other night thinking about some friends who have a new baby. That thought reminded me of when I was in that stage of life.

Who can forget that very first time when the doctors/nurses scatter and leave you — the new parents — in the hospital room with an hours-old newborn?

Sheer terror! “Wait! What do we do? You’re not going to just leave us, are you?”

It got better.

As my daydream continued, I thought about what an adjustment it is — a complete life overhaul — to suddenly have another human joined to your hip … figuratively speaking … a human who messes itself at the most inopportune times … a human who will swallow any object it can gets its pie hole around … blah, blah, blah.

Well for me, this whole parent thing was quite an adjustment.

I wonder how new parents make it.

It occurred to me that I used to have to play mental games to make myself more relaxed in this new “job description” — dad.

Here’s an example.

My first Christmas as a dad found me babysitting one night. (Or, if it was my kid, would that be care giving?) I didn’t know what to do with an infant, or maybe technically a near-toddler. So, I decided to do something I enjoyed and to incorporate the child into my fun.

Well … that Christmas, I tried my hand at America’s Most Absurd Videos.

I shot this video with lots of holiday colored lights and a tree in the background. Occasionally, the camera would catch me whizzing by — in and out of the frame.

In the background there was music playing loudly — not exactly a Christmas carol — it was R.E.M.’s “The End of the World As We Know It.”

Ha! Sometimes new parents feel like it’s the end, as they kiss goodbye their carefree lifestyles to take on hospital bills, childcare, education, insurance, car payments, etc.

So anyway … in the video, as Michael Stipe of R.E.M. was speeding through lyrics about earthquakes and Lenny Bruce or whatever … the camera was focused on my new son. He was sitting — no slumping — in a high chair, just barely able to hold himself up.

Man was he drooling. At that point in his career, it was what he did best … mmm … maybe second best.

Can you picture that?

Then, all of the sudden, his arms flew up in the air and his eyes about popped out of his head.

The camera microphone recorded a crash. A bright blue object bounced off the stainless steel tray of the high chair. Crash! Then a red flash bounced off the tray … then yellow.

For whatever reason, I was trying to entertain myself and stimulate the boy’s brain by tossing small colored balls onto the tray in front of him.

Clank!

“It’s the end of the world as we know it.”

Clank!

“It’s the end of the world as we know it.”

Clank!

Each time, he jumped. He didn’t cry. He was too young to laugh or make fun of his old man.

He seemed fascinated.

I have to wonder if somewhere, in the most remote corners of his psyche, if there is a vague — perhaps repressed — memory … or scar … or whatever.

He probably gets all melancholy when he hears that song … or takes cover.

As for me … I won’t lie. I was hoping that video mental exercise would give him uncanny hand-eye coordination and propel him one day into the Major Leagues.

I think I still have the video somewhere.

It’s not important. Just a little story about how we do what we do — the best we can.

… A blog about nothing.

Know what I sayin?

Unknowingly, the driver commented on my church as we passed. (It’s “walking distance” from my house.)

“Now why did they have to build such a big new church here?”

I think I responded kindly, mentioning that if he looked toward the end of the property, he would see a tiny, simple brick structure. It’s the original sanctuary that has been in the neighborhood for decades - the building our church bought from another congregation in our infancy. It was about 20 years later that we built the bigger, more aesthetic sanctuary that is now visible from Interstate 30.

“We didn’t really invade the neighborhood. We’ve been here a long time and finally built a new sanctuary to take care of all the people,” I said. The church has grown because people have been drawn to what is going on inside, and the structure was a necessity.

He nodded, with a new appreciation … I could tell.

I wonder what the good-natured old chauffeur would have thought of yesterday’s sermon and activities. The church sponsored its annual ArtReach Sunday, featuring a showing of the talented artists who just happen to attend the church. It was all about the visual expression of what really goes on inside and beyond the walls, for that matter — glorifying God.

The sermon, of course, was tied in with the artistic theme … a message about the ultimate in creativity — God giving us Jesus Christ in the flesh.

In the sermon, the pastor asked “When you think of creativity and diversity, (these days ) how often do you think of a church?” He quickly emphasized that ArtReach isn’t about bragging rights … But, that the approach is fairly unique.

I concur.

For the art history buffs out there, a key element of the sermon was when the pastor shared some of his research on Vincent Van Gogh who was at times misunderstood, even persecuted, for his faith. Van Gogh’s talents were displayed in vibrant photos as The Raising of Lazarus and Starry Night were shown on the big screens of the modern sanctuary.

I think you would like the insight into Van Gogh and the message: ArtReach, Sermons

Years ago — I will never forget — one of our pastors delivered an inspiring sermon, as he spun a potter’s wheel and threw clay into the shape of a vase, pencil-holder of some other minor masterpiece. The imagery was so excellent — the ol’ potter/clay/vessel motif direct from Scripture. (The education wing of our church is named for that pastor, a great man, who has gone on to Heaven … as some readers will know … )

Why all this art in church? Was it to focus on ourselves and the cool things we can do? Oh contrare … just the opposite.

The message was that creativity by definition comes from God, and that man’s art — at least appropriate art — is the conveyance of what we see of another dimension … the spiritual realm.

So what about the more contemporary artists on display?

First off, as the congregation sang, there was a speed painter on the side of the stage who painted what appeared to be a large piece of abstract art … which he rotated 180 degrees at the finish to reveal it was actually an over-sized portrait of The Savior. Pretty cool.

Outside, the lobby or “Great Room,” was laid out like a gallery with still life paintings, sculptures, abstracts, portraits, photos, classical music … a little bit of everything.

This is my quick, (and characteristically quirky) sampling in words and photos:

One of the artists is fairly well known around town — one Ron Cheek. I give his name because it has puzzled me for several years. I know there are actually two Ron Cheeks in our church, but I don’t know if they are related. And confession time: every time I think about this I want to make “turn-the-other-Cheek” jokes … Forgive me … and apologies to our two Ronnies.

I digress …

Another piece of art just may have been stolen from my local Starbucks. Well not really, just kidding … Here’s the deal. A young photographer currently has her work on display at Starbucks down the street. And recently, no sooner had she hung her photos at the coffee shop — that I noticed one photo disappeared. Aha! Yesterday I found it … hanging in the church collection. Good stuff. I am also envious that her name (Hannah) is the same spelled backwards and forwards … How many people can say that?

Another artist — in my opinion one of the best in show — flies around the country when she is not painting … with her family’s helicopter charter company, providing services at NASCAR events … probably some interesting “beautiful people” stories there …

Probably all kinds of good stories among the entire group …

Bottom line … all of this creativity and the message of truth and inspiration combined would make anyone want to participate. (I had thought about submitting one of my photos in advance … but backed out.)

Then it occurred to me during the sermon, that some people consider blogging an art. Maybe it could be a way for me to participate or contribute, albeit non-juried. You know … I guess if done for the right reason, one might even consider blogging as worship …

Well … my blogs typically are less worthy … but it is what it is …

My “genre” of blog often combines art, culture and whatever … along with my passion — Wi-Fi … So what the heck … I decided to write about ArtReach. After the 9:15 service and before the 5 o’clock service I slipped back in … took a bunch of photos … and YES … snooped around a bit for Wi-Fi.

Ha … I have been at this church for 20+ years and I am still sneaking around … LOL. Guess what! … Yes .. This artsy place of worship not only has its own coffee shop, built-in … there is a guest Wi-Fi network. I picked it up outside the door with my iPhone, as I sat perched on my bicycle … my creative needs met for the day.

Call it my sinful nature … I may have sneaked one of my photos into this blog too.

Know what I sayin?

Years ago I read this funny quip. I think it was in Reader’s Digest … man I used to love me some R’s-D … what with things like “I Am Joe’s Pancreas” and stuff like that … I digress.

Anyway, some reader related a true story about a car swerving through traffic … prolly a Toyota (but that’s another story). The driver in the rear (not a “The Office” joke) accelerated to catch the swerving vehicle. As he approached, he was amused to read a bumper sticker on the wreckless car, stating “Hang Up And Drive!” … obviously an anti-cell phone voter.

As driver number two attempted to pass the whack, anti-talk driver, he was shocked. The flippant driver, who proclaimed to be so concerned about others’ safety, was shaving with a rechargeable razor as he drove.

Oh well … at least he wasn’t talking on a phone!

By now you may have guessed that I think total cell phone restriction … other than in school zones, where you are already supposed to slow your driving and talking to 20 m.p.h. — is just about the most myopic thing I have ever heard.

Trust me … the people who cannot multi-task well enough to talk and drive probably shouldn’t be behind the wheel in the first place. And chewing gum is out of the question!

In fact, I much more prefer stringent testing and licensing before anyone is given the privilege of driving on a public road.

Ha … this coming from a guy who blogs with a laptop driving down stretches of (empty) highway … don’t tell anyone.

But, I am also an advocate for fairness. So, I am willing to concede blogging while driving, texting, IMing, tweeting and even talking on the phone … just as soon as we remove some of the other accidents-waiting-to-happen from the road.

NOTE: I will not give up “war driving” with a Wi-Fi antenna made from steel washers and an old Pringle’s Potato Chip can — used to find unlocked Wi-Fi networks … because that’s recycle-ing-ing.

So, where do we start? I suggest these are a great place, the “10 dumbest, even more unsafe alternatives to driving and talking on the phone”:

10. Carrying on a conversation with a person in the passenger seat, and turning to look at them when you finish every sentence with “know what I mean?”. (Don’t tell me you don’t do this.)

9. Contorting, turning around 180 degrees while navigating a mini-van, to ensure that little Sarah and little Michael both get exactly the same number of reduced-sugar cookies for equality in a perfect world.

8.  Throwing empty beer bottles at traffic signs. (”We were recycle-ing-ing, occifer.”)

7. Flossing your dog’s teeth as he sits in your lap, drooling saliva all over the door-mount rear view mirror.

6. Applying clown makeup for the next bachelorette party gig.

5. Twisting the sun visor mirror to reflect and bounce sunlight into the opposing drivers’ eyes, hoping to gain a perceived advantage in stop-and-go traffic.

Wait, do kids still car surf?

4. Changing your mock turtleneck, cable-stitched sweater because you know it is just all wrong with those corduroy slacks.

3. Tripping on the tiny people in the rear of the car, as viewed through the fisheye mirror in today’s new Toyotas.

2. Excelling at karaoke and choreography with the Violent Femmes’ “Blister In The Sun” blasting from your satellite radio unit.

1. Watchin yo sef look all cool and sexy in the mirror as you insecurely puff cancer-causing poison from a tiny rolled piece of paper, not worrying about how bad it makes you smell from about 30 feet away, literally.

Call me … we’ll ride together, if you dare.

Know what I sayin?

Who You Callin Broken?

Perhaps the most quoted bit of wisdom is the adage, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” (Yes there are more grammatically correct versions, but I just don’t think they have as much impact …)

You hear this in corporate offices, sitcoms, newsrooms, etc.

I think I learned the phrase from my football coach. Back in the day … very much an era of smashmouth football … “three-yards and a cloud of dust” … and all that. My coach would tell us to run the same play over … and over … and over .. until the other team stopped the play or died of old age … or went insane from the monotony … or whatever.

“If it ain’t broke …”

This comes to mind because of all the stuff that is broke or broken right now.

Have you seen the political ads and heard all of the talking heads proclaiming “Washington is broken”?

When I hear that something “is broken,” it also makes me think that someone has no understanding of the problem … and certainly no earthly idea of how to fix it … but that they are happy to repeat what everyone is saying. Sort of a mob mentality. No shortage of mobs or flashmobs in these social media crazed days.

For the record, I am trying to determine when the term “broken” first went south in my eyes. Probably this: “broken,” as far back as I can recall, has always been a telltale sign that someone has no idea about what makes an automobile move, or stop, for that matter.

Traditionally, if a mechanic — sexist though it may be — heard a woman say that her car “is broken,” he immediately knew he could invent any outlandish diagnosis and charge whatever he wanted for the imaginary parts and repairs.

I suppose in the interest of political correctness, the same mechanic would probably swindle any tofu-eating male driver who self diagnosed that his “motor is broken.”

I digress …

Anyway … lots and lots of political ads are telling me that Washington is broken. That scares me … it is still broken? Good honk … we are seeing the biggest “repair bills”  — called stimulus — in the history of the planet … and still it is broken?

Then in the last week, broken really hit home.

Despite the fact that my car runs perfectly — better than any I have ever owned — I learned that everyone is saying it and all other Toyotas apparently “are broken” … I mean, if you put any faith in the national media propaganda machines these days.

Could this “Toyota Is Broken” mob mentality be a safety issue totally blown out of proportion?  There probably is a problem, just like every other auto manufacturer has expereienced.  But … man … I have never seen so much hype.   Let’s see, who would think of launching a safety smear campaign against the most successful auto company in the world? Maybe one of the underachieving competitors?

Oh … and speaking of broken … who is it that now has a controlling interest in General Motors? (There are some others starting to question this … so it isn’t just me.)

And then … in a stroke of brilliance, our lawmakers pretty much demand that Mr. Toyota himself testify.  Let’s see, he barely speaks English.  How well will he play to the propaganda cameras.  Excellent ploy.

Any connection, you think?  I’m just asking …

Know what I sayin?

Who don’t like sum good news first: The good news — there was an excellent Wi-Fi , wireless network available — boasting of speeds greater than 54.0 Mbps.

The bad news — film director, man of girth, Kevin Smith was on board — not only making the plane list slightly, but his shadow eclipsed the Wi-Fi router, blocking and bouncing the signal out of the plane and into space … making it virtually impossible for me to tweet about the phat Wi-Fi on the sweet ride.

“What could be worse?,” you might ask.

Well … I can only think of 10 Things worse than riding on a plane with bigbigboy Kevin Smith:

10. Sitting next to a passenger who has decided to try the new liver and onions with bacon flavored yogurt.

9. Watching the new politically correct, elderly flight attendant flip and roll his false teeth between his gums as he demonstrates the use of a safety belt.

8. Seeing the oxygen masks drop down into the cabin, only to be swooped up by the Octa-Mom, who is also taking up more than her share of seats on the plane.

7. Discovering the passenger in front of you is scratching feverishly, attempting to detonate the newly developed Al Qaeda dandruff bomb. ( More on Dandruff Device )

6. Noticing Tiger Woods is on the plane, hitting the stewardess call button like he would a fairway wood.

5. Feeling guilty that you accidentally slipped a pair of nail clippers through the full-body scan and pat-down search at the airport security check point.

4. Reading the computer screen of the person blogging in front of you and posting to his blog a comment about his bald spot, as soon as he uploads, using the in-flight Wi-Fi, just as he is.

3. Sitting next to triplets — two slim, one rather large, named Valerie, Mallory and Calorie.

2. Noticing the captain looks just like Hannibal The Cannibal, as he puts the plane on auto pilot, leaves the cabin and goes directly to Kevin Smith.

1. Realizing that although the flight attendants are actually serving a meal on this flight … alas … They are serving Jenny Craig!

Know what I sayin?

Actually … Wi-Fi On Southwest

Representin PingWi-Fi.com

It may surprise you that I don’t particularly like self promotion.

However, PingWi-Fi.com has two staffers … so you do the math.  Like it or not, I have to go out and tell people that I can be somewhat interesting … sometimes … when I am not totally boring which is probably most of the time.  (How’s that for over confidence?)

Conversely, I do actually enjoy media relations — when representing other people, brands or products.  In PR, I have pitched other clients to reporters on the business desks of ever newspaper, in every major city in The United States.  Network TV too. They used to have a PR joke about this …. the saying was, “I give good phone.”

That was before phoning was interrupted by faxing, which was replaced by e-mailing, which begot texting, which was replaced by tweeting, which rivals status updating on FriendFeed or LinkedIn … no MySpace … no wait, Facebook … and soon to be GMail … yada yada …

Ha!  The point — if you are a news reporter, no matter what the communications tool of the day, we publicity types will find you (read that in a creepy voice). Promotion … it’s what we do.

That is why I was so surprised when I was contacted by USA Today’s travel columnist Harriet Baskas … totally out of the blue. I didn’t harass her … not even a little bit.  LOL.  I think she must have had a deadline approaching and just had to talk to someone … ANYONE.  Well, like they say, I would rather be lucky than smart.  (Probably not much choice there …) Well, the other day I got lucky … and it lead to a very beneficial appearance today in USA Today.

PingWi-Fi In USA Today

Harriet was looking for someone with opinions on Wi-Fi at airports.  It was just a few days earlier that I was testing out the Boingo at Lambert-St. Louis International Airport … In fact, I launched this blog with a press conference hosted by one of the biggest of the big Wi-Fi hotspots — San Francisco International Airport.

PingWi-Fi Launch

If you read the stuff I was doing back in 2004, with my Wi-Fi Guy blog, you may remember I was also in USA Today for that blog.  Both = good times!  Such a national hit, or actually worldwide hit can be a great shot in the arm.

But this time, despite the potential for similar benefits … there is just something extra special — it’s all about working with a really nice person.  I think I may have met Ms. Baskas once, maybe … and we have only exchanged e-mails a few times.  Regardless … she is just one of those people who are nice!  Why aren’t there more of those? (She’s funny too.  Read her archive.)  I mean, wouldn’t it make everyone’s job that much more enjoyable.

Follow Harriet

Anyway … I just followed Harriet on Twitter … and yes, she followed me right back …  Who don’t need more nice followers?

Know what i sayin?

Well, it has taken me a year, but I have finally warmed up to the idea.  I wonder how it will work.  I have a great idea.  How about I type a couple of sentences, then the readers take over … be really pithy … make this a must see destination, and we all retire on our own island Down Under.

It could happen.  Your thoughts?

Oh … apparently WordPress doesn’t have a grandfather clause, so to speak.  So, if  you read something older — deeper in the blog — that warrants a comment, you’ll have to do it in the space here.

(NOTE:  Also, this may be self-explanatory, but just in case … click on the headline of the piece, then you will see the comment box.)

Knock yourself out.

By the way, the first of my three trips across America was as PR guy for the The History Channel sponsored “The Great Race.”

I digress …

Back on track … Pickers, right … Two guy travel the country in a huge foreign -looking monster of a panel van/truck looking for junk that could be someone else’s treasure. It’s sort of like the Antique Road Show on foodstamps … I so covet the rusty carnival ride they found and bought in a recent episode.

Pickers Site

American Pickers is so me! You see, I am single-handedly, slowly and surely pillaging all things of rust from the family farm, 400 miles away, and transporting them to my tiny office in Fort Worth. You can barely walk through the place … and yeth my balcony runneth over with non-chiming windchimes I have constructed of tractor fly wheels, windmill parts, drill bits, etc., etc.

I digress X2 …

Well anyway, if you like Pickers … then you will love the City Museum in St. Louis. It is hours of fun, made of recycled treasures — gargoyles galore from old homes … an empty bank vault … Coca Cola freezers … antique bottles … ivory pipes that I assume are opium in origin, etc., etc.
I walked through all this random stuff, singing in my inner head … “Picker’s Paradise, that’s all she was now …” to the tune of Bob Marley’s “Pimper’s Paradise.” I really did, nerd mon.

Hear the real Bob Marley song for reference, on my Blip.fm site … PingWi-Fidelity here:

Pimper’s Paradise

Back to the museum … there is also an aquarium … but, extra admission. I shot the breeze with the guy at the front desk a bit … then pointed at the sky, through the window behind him and said, “what in the world is that?” He turned away momentarily, and I tried to sneak in … but was caught. So, you have to pay or come up with a better ploy than I did.

Also, the multiple levels of the museum are filled with spelunky caves and scary tunnels and slides and stalactites or ‘mites … whatever. So cool!

Ha … get this … in the gift shop, they sell used clothing like your local thrift store … Rats, no random t-shirts though … (I am still kicking myself for passing on all of the used, miscellaneous bourbon committee t-shirts at Goodwill, back in Kentucky … darn it …)

I’m done now … Focus … check this out:

City Museum

But best of all, four stories above the patio are two scrap heaps that once were airplanes. Just relax … but yes, they almost look as if they have crashed into the building. There are numerous junky, old, miscellaneous metal ladders up to the aircraft … IF you are feeling brave.

I was. My bud, Markus and I pretty much dared each other to climb up to the airplane perches. Did I mention the planes are “secured” by rusty old metal cables … and yes, they sway under the weight of the climbers — especially men of girth.

It is pretty hairy. I mean there were teenage boys who were freezing, not wanting to complete the climb.  The most seemingly dangerous parts of the climb are probably totally safe … but don’t seem so. You climb through a metal framework of a tube, way, way up … Don’t drop no cell phones, trust me … LOL or “yer water.”

If you do this, you are so totally enclosed, except for a foot or whatever that you might dangle through the bars … BUT .. Therein lies the problem — this metal tube. I ain’t gonna lie. I am extremely less agile than the days when I could do a 180-reverse layup on the roundball court or whatever. These days, I struggle to put on my socks.

So there I was four stories up, suspended in mid air, climbing from one junked airplane to an even higher up junked airplane. For the last 10 feet of the climb I had a decision to make. I either had to tumble out of the tube onto my head, or I had to twist and turn to make my feet exit first. I am 6-3. I think this metal log jam was about 5-10 wide.

Yes … I got stuck … way, way up.

I cannot tell you which reaction was strongest … shear terror or embarrassment. Markus was urging me onward and making fun of me to boot. I couldn’t stop laughing … and thought perhaps I would fall to my death … or even worse be that guy who has to be rescued.

Oh … and the temp was about 40 degrees … and the cold steel was a constant reminder of that.

Finally, I literally grabbed my leg and tugged on it to get it dislodged from its pretzel like predicament … pulled it until it hurt, I did … simultaneously I pulled up with my other arm and somehow twisted. I am sure this is exactly what a breech birth must be like.

Yes … shaky from the ordeal, I conquered fear and made it though this scrap heap “ropes course” somewhat unscathed and feeling good about myself for persevering.

Best of all .. After all this panic and toil … there was warmth and healthy sustenance. On cold days, the staff of City Museum fire up a few logs and let the visitors roast marshmallows down below at the fire pit — laughing at the suckers stuck in the cage above. Best snack and comradery I ever had …

Finally, I remembered my mission — Wi-Fi! Can you believe this? No Wi-Fi hotspot at City Museum! I mean, surely someone could make a transmitter or one of those Wi-Fi antennae out of a Pringle’s can — like the geeks on the Internet boast … or something. Dontchathink?  There were several networks popping up from surrounding businesses … but I didn’t poach.  I promise.

Typically, I only hand out PingWi-Fi ratings for hotspots … But am certainly willing to make an exception or two, especially to places that scare the bejeebers out of me — 6 pings on the 7-ping scale, a near perfect experience. Minor 1-point deduction … no Hershey’s chocolate to make smores.

Know what I sayin?

When I finally found the coffee shop, it was very easy. It was in the last place I looked, as the old adage goes. But when I first set out, armed with Yahoo Maps instructions … ha … I ended up a few miles away, following their simple directions step by step. Go figure.

Talan, Zach ... Good Peeps

Anyway … at first glance, I thought about passing by Perk I mean Park Ave. There were no people inside, even though it was a cold, perfect coffee night. But, I recalled several nice reviews of the place on the Web. So, I decided to be that guy … the one who would break the ice and be the first to sit in an empty establishment.

That brings up the old retail adage … it takes butts in seats to put butts in seats … I am just full of adages …

So, not to worry. The place filled up as soon as one brave soul grabbed a chair. My butt did a community service, I suppose.

The Web reviews I saw in advance of my visit were correct … Great atmosphere … and the usual fare you expect in a coffee shop. But, along with all the pastries, there seemed to be a few more funky flavas in the mix when it comes to smoothies and steamed drinks … even a funky monkey frappicano … yes frappicano.

Also refreshing … the two guys behind the counter gave in-depth descriptions of the brewed treats … and even better, they asked me all about the ingredients that go into a hot steaming cup of PingWi-Fi. Heaven knows I am passionate about the blog … so don’t get me started (as they learned). And oh yes, I showered them with PingWi-Fi.com t-shirts although they did not reciprocate with their one and only remaining, cool, Park Avenue T.  Oh well:)

Now … getting down to business. How was the Wi-Fi?

Excellent. My increasingly ancient Dell laptop made the hookup before I was able to launch my browser. I was blogging about eclectic musician Keller Williams in no time … sending tweets and checking e-mail … without a single spill … tea nor connectivity.

So … yes, the 1-7 pingometer or rating system at PingWi-Fi.com is still alive and well, although we haven’t used it much lately.

Park Avenue in St. Louis — the best hotspot in St. Louis so far — quaint, knowledgeable brew dudes, a nice flavorful cup and excellent Wi-Fi — 5 pings.

Know what I sayin?