Tag Archives: surprise

(Head)Phoning It In

iPhone

Oh Apple. How I love and hate you simultaneously. Your iPhone is a thing of beauty. Sublime. Utterly life changing. But your accessories leave me thirsty for more, like some post-Survivor participant thirsts for their sixteenth minute of fame.

We all know the ear buds suck. No big surprise. I want to talk about how Apple knows they suck, made an equally maddening improvement that sucks even more so. And just as you’re about to play the boiling mad consumer when you return them, they soothe your pain with treacle and excellent customer service.

Yes. I bought the $90 In-Ear buds that may or may not work for iPhones and they were glorious. The sound was so rich I could hear the lead singer from Underworld fart during one track, I swear. But soon after the cons started.

Logically, headphones with a microphone suggests they made these buds for the iPhone, since voice recording isn’t all that much of a big need (or a huge selling app) on an iPod Touch. So I’m assuming it’s primarily made for the iPhone but on the iPhone, the volume controls don’t work – they only work correctly for the iPods. So why add a microphone if it’s an iPod accessory? Maddening.

Secondly, as I paid for them, the woman pointed out that I have 3 weeks to return them for a full refund. Not a store credit, or exchange. Full. Refund. Uh oh. Not a good sign but at least she pointed that out verbally and on the bill.

Another con is that the wire used for the buds have a habit of transmitting any vibration directly into your inner ear. So any footstep, any brush up against the wires, any silent burp, telegraphs to your ear bones like a tin cup and yarn telephone. It’s utterly distracting from the rich, beautiful music.

And finally, I don’t have the ears that keep the buds in place. I tried all three sizes but found I was reinserting them every block or so. I plucked my ear hairs, cleaned the wax out and yet still no grip. They constantly slipped out, reducing the aural impact.

I took them back last night to a very crowded Apple store, where they’ve banished the long wait for the cash by having floating remote cash points on the back pocket of the hip, young(ish) things that man the isles (tiny voice: Brilliant!). After a short exchange with the most popular and sexy Panda Bear that works there…

Panda Bear: (flashing his pay point machine) Paying with credit card?
Me: Returning, actually.
PB: Really? Didn’t like them?
Me: My greasy Italian ears can’t keep them in my ear holes.
PB: You said it, not me.

…I got to the counter and was out of the store with not an ounce of hassle. In fact there was only one question asked:

Clerk: Can I ask why are you returning them?
Me: (Offering my list of complaints, said nicely and with a smile).
Clerk: I am sorry to hear that these didn’t work for you.

Yeah. She took ownership of the problem. I was so shocked by that one sentence that I told her at the end of the transaction that her service was excellent. It was like getting a good night blow job when you only expected a kiss. I didn’t add that part.

Unfortunately when I got home, the 3rd party brand I bought were such utter shite I tore them from my head and cursed the day this nameless company was created. The jack wasn’t sitting correctly in the iPhone, producing a crackling noise, the microphone produced such poor quality playback over the phone that I sounded like I was in an empty bucket at the back end of a concert hall while trying to removing chicken feathers from my throat. The buds themselves leaked so much noise SharkBoy was holding his own ears. Yeah that bad.

I’ll recount my second return later. Wish me luck!

Halloween 2008

General
Jedis By RodTO

Jedis By RodTO

Halloween on Church Street. You will never find a more retched hive of scum and villainy.

The evening started out good with a group of us getting together at Casa RoboShark, slapping on layers of makeup while we sucked back beers during rounds of Guitar Hero and Mario Kart Wii. It sounds very involved but it was pretty relaxed. I wound up doing Dollar Store cuts on a few guys but the wax wounds didn’t last too long after leaving the apartment… I blame sweat and not having a proper sealant to make it stick. That and they wrinkled their faces too much. NO LAUGHING!

Here’s where I apologize for not taking any pictures this year. My lightsabre for my Jedi costume was a two hander. RodTO (Photog 2) took some amazing shots, as usual. Go see them and praise him highly.

We left the house at 9 and got to the street in full swing. It was busy as usual. SharkBoy felt there were too many drunk Ryerson students, but I thought it was a typical Halloween night: packed, pictures everywhere. Our outfits weren’t as attention grabbing as last year’s Luchadores, but with the Force FX sabres, we were well lit and did get into some photos. Here’s where I mention that lucha masks were out in force this year. We’re trendsetters.

We met up with Da, the Xbox Boys, FrankenSteve (nice fairies!) and got to do one circuit of up and down the strip before going home. Some of the costumes were amazing, some were the usual “Throw on a boa and I’m done” kind of WTF kind of effort. In all, I would say that a lot more people are getting into the spirit of dressing up, even if it’s just a dollar store jumpsuit with a cheap plastic lead-based mask. I say “bravo” for trying!

The thing that did mar the evening for me: I verbally abused a drunk asshole in a rather (un)Jedi like manner. We were walking in the crowd and came upon a small pocket, empty of people and I had stopped to wait for the other guys to catch up. As I did, a drunk guy came pushing out of the crowd, past me, screaming like a 9 year old child. “No! NO!” he was hollering. Chasing him was another drunk partyer who was making noises like he was going to catch him. Upon seeing my lightsabre, he lunged at me and yelled he needed it to “get that faggot.”

“Uh no,” I said and turned slightly from him.

He drunkenly clawed at the toy. (okay, the $130 toy, none the less)

“Fuck off!” I said. I was shocked: I don’t say this lightly in public, to strangers. But his total disregard for my personal space and property was appalling.

“Oh chill,” he said and tried to go for it again.

“Fuck. Off.” I said, stronger. And the surreal part was that I had my hand out, pointing a finger at his face. Like the Force was going to save me.

Exit drunk queen, muttering something, trying to catch up to “that faggot”.

Gay Jedi

Gay Jedi

There were other extremely drunken exchanges that bewildered me, like the 60-some year old woman wordlessly trying to grab SharkBoy’s lightsabre by the tube and me yelling “Lady! YOU DON’T TOUCH A JEDI’S STICK!” (yeah I said “stick” but she muttered “dick” back). Or the three Ryerson tarts wanting to play with the sabres for themselves and when we refused, asked for a kiss. Wha?

I love Halloween, but I was kind of cheesed off by the overly rowdy drunks. We were out pretty late and the worst of it did happen well after 11pm so I shouldn’t be surprised, really.

Next year, more thoughtful planning, I should think. Something not so attention grabbing, yet attention grabbing.

A Night of Art-ness

Celebs and Media, Distractions, Personal Bits, Toronto

Da At Art With HeartLast night was a busy one for me. Da and I decided to do some Father/Son bonding while hobnobbing (what the hell does that word mean, anyway?) with Toronto’s art elite at Art With Heart.

Da’s never been in the Carlu and was curious as to it’s grandeur. It didn’t disappoint. It’s a beautiful deco setting and the art that was placed throughout was amazing (the website doesn’t convey the demanding presence some pieces command). I have to comment here that the volunteer staff were clockwork perfect. Pleasant, informed docets docents (Andrew helps me spelling!) cheerfully provided information on the art and never patronized. In all, a very organized successful event… I hope. I haven’t heard any numbers back yet, but the joint was packed, and considering Fashion sCares is this Saturday, I hope they made their target numbers!

Find My Brother!Then we shuffled down to Canadian Stage to see my brother in Frost/Nixon. I have to admit that due to some of the reviews coming out of Vancouver, I wasn’t hopeful for this production. But when the curtain fell, I can tell you I was very entertained and greatly surprised. They have worked out all the problems mentioned in previous reviews, except the worrisome opinion that Len Cariou’s Nixon was not satisfactorily mimicking enough, which I tend to agree. I yearned to see the Nixon I remembered as a kid but got a sketch of that ideal. Not saying he did a bad job, he was captivating, but there was no jowly “Rich Little” kind of character play (which my brother does rather spookily at one point).

Oddly enough most of the cast and crew had been in science fiction TV shows (Battlestar, Stargate, RoboCop), including my brother, at one point in their career. Does this say something about Canadian culture?

Tonight, Sharkboy and I are off to see A Chorus Line with Mumsey! I’m being exposed to more culture than an open chest wound in an emergency ward!

Memories, Glad and Sad

Distractions, Travel

Speaking of Disney, just over a year ago, SharkBoy and I were enjoying DisneyWorld. It was my first visit there, with the heart-stopping surprise of coincidentally booking on Star Wars Weekend.

I’ve said it before and will continually say it: After seeing a Jawa roaming the crowd, SharkBoy surprised me with the best moment a non-geek could bestow upon a sci-fi geek: SharkBoy yelled “Chibookii!” instead of “Uchini!” to get that Jawa’s attention and I couldn’t possibly love him more.

I, of course, correctly called out and got no response.

I’m reminded of it by this video that came through my WordPress feed. Half-heartedly watch up until 3.10 when the real fun starts. Yes, I died a bit inside when I saw it. But lets face it, nothing will erase the damage the Xmas special did to this franchise.

Bad Gifting

Personal Bits

I’m a horrible gift giver. I’ve mentioned before that I buy things I want to get, which is subconsciously greedy, I know. But if I manage to get things the receiver actually wants (usually through HEAVY hinting and suggestion), I always manage to destroy the act of surprise.

I drop too many cautionary suggestions (“You know those underwear you liked? I think you should just forget about buying them.”); or I ask too many questions (“That camera you looked at last week. Did it have a serial number you can remember off the top of your head?”); or in the case of home-made, hear felt gifts, I execute their creation waaay too early (“You may want to wear this now – it’s a scarf I made you!”); or I just leave the damn things lying around without trying to hide them (“What’s this Charlie’s Angels Season One doing here?”), all resulting in the most anti-climactic surprise for the recipient.

So when I finished wrapping the gifts last night for someone’s impending birthday, this someone systematically picked them up and one by one and identified nearly each gift:

(Fondle) “That book I wanted.”
(Shake) “Socks. Probably green.”
(Lift, bend) “That t-shirt I said I liked.”
(Hold, weigh) “Not sure.”
(Hold, poke) “Not sure.”
(Passing to side) “Charlie’s Angels.”
(Passing to side) “Charlie’s Angels.”
(Lift, bend) “Padded CD case?”

Damn it!

My own fault, really. I can’t go up against the master. He had my iPhone sitting beside my bed (hardly hidden) for at least 3 weeks before my birthday with not one mention or hint to me about it. Subsequently I was blindsided, twice (he got me a decoy gift which he also didn’t let on, but gave to me early – the Wii). Cool as a cucumber, he sat on these gifts for a long time without hint of their impending coolness.

Me? I think in terms of the happiness. I’m bursting to see the payoff, but I get disappointed when the recipient makes the all too easy connection: “Want to see what I got you? No? Darn! It’s really cool! It makes toast and is toaster-like! What? No. It’s not a toaster! Fttt!”

Sound it Out

Personal Bits

Just in from an ultrasound, kiddies! Apparently my last blood test suggested an “enlarged liver” so my Doc, ever cautious, ordered me to the lab.

Upon entering the lab at St George’s Medical Arts Building, I had to wait until the receptionist had finished with her conversation to a friend on her cell. Normally I would have been upset with a wait like this but her conversation (which she meant for me to hear) was one of desperation. She was trying to find a home for a border collie that had been abused by her neighbours. She asked me instantly if I wanted him. I don’t and she tells me of the struggle this dog has had. She seems like a caring sort, confirmed when she confesses to having 4 cats and one dog already.

I was ushered into the changing cubicles where surprise sooprize, I had the same technician doing my scan as the last time I was there a few years back for a lump. In my boob. (Her words. Slowly. Hushed. Conspiratory: “Is the lump. In you boob…gone?”) So instantly she was friendly and chatty, taking a moment to laugh at the big BUTCH pin on my knapsack. “Nothing but underwear, socks and shoes. Put this robe on backwards and this one on forwards. I don’t want you wandering the hall bare butt.” I remember how much I liked her the first time.

Into the scanning suite. Up goes the gown and a sheet of paper towel is tucked into and draped over my underwear. I lie down and she grabs the KY in squeezy bottle.

“Do you have BBQ flavour?” I ask as she covers my hairy chest and belly with the thankfully warm lube.

“HA! There’s a first,” she comments.

She can’t stop asking about my lump she looked at two years ago. She meekly raises her ultrasound wand and ask “Can I look at your… boob… with my… wand?” I let her. All clear. She’s happy.

She slips her wand over my right side. I start to laugh. She starts to laugh. “Sorry. It always kills me when big biker dudes like yourself giggle when I touch them. Can you take out your belly ring?”

In walks the Dog Savior receptionist with the Wand Waving Tech’s next appointment file, resulting in joking banter about hiding my underwear with the paper towel. “What’s he got under there?” The Dog Savior asks, pointing at my Bounty covered BVDs. These two have sussed me out in seconds.

“A cat,” I say. First thing into my head since she’s a dog lover.

“I think we’re the ones with cats,” says the Wand Waver.

Hilarity ensues.

The Wand Waver digs her sensor into my abdomen and makes clucking sounds. “Can’t you find it?” I ask.

I get a playful dirty look. “Oh, I’ll find it,” she says.

After a time she tells me that I have a “horseshoe kidney”, a conjoined kidney, which is rare but not surprising. She’s snapping pictures of my innards all this time and we move on to the liver, the star of the show. I ask for a nice 8×10 colour or at least wallet sized photos.

“Now see, you were original before with the BBQ,” she says.