Oh hulu hulu hulu

An Open letter to Hulu

hulu

Oh hulu, in the beginning you so lived up to your name—you were different, you were vibrant, you were fun to be with. But I guess the allure of money made you cheapen your wares like a plastic lei.

I’ve never been able to understand. Maybe one of your execs will chance upon this blog and help enlighten me. I understood the change in the beginning when more commercials started to air. I knew that initial, I think it was only like 15 seconds each break, couldn’t last. It was just too good to be true. But I didn’t blame you. The writers struck to get more money so you had to get more ads. It was never more than a normal television show so I didn’t mind.

But then you started to take episodes off quickly. They could only be watched for a short period of time. Unless you wanted to subscribe to hulu plus. Oh for shame. You didn’t want to just keep your niche little market, you had to try and compete with Netflix and Amazon. Wasn’t it enough that you were getting advertisers, wasn’t that enough for you?

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And lately you’ve really gone and done it. You started running ads like the one above where the fact that you had to subscribe to hulu plus to see that show was getting to be in smaller print. You were hiding it. Were you being deceitful, or were you ashamed?

Because we miss you hulu, those of us that are financially challenged right now miss you. We need your free programming to keep our spirits up. Please don’t let us down, please don’t slowly fade into subscription land and ignore all who visited you when you were alone on an island. We need you.

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A Conversation Between Angels CIV

“My goodness what’s with the face Bill?”

“I finally understand what people in California were going on about, there’s no break. It’s always bright here. You can’t be in a bad mood.”

“Well what reason would you have to be in a bad mood?”

“Because it’s always bright, how can I be so happy, I’m used to the rain, the clouds.”

“I’m not supposed to say this, but if there’s anyone that should be relieved it’s always light it’s Noah. so find him and you’ll find someone to bond with.’

 

World Famous

world_famous

I was waiting for the bus the other day when a sign across the street caught my eye. Dave’s World Famous Burgers & Dogs. I’d never heard of it, but maybe the rest of the world has? I’m a vegetarian but know a  lot of meat eaters and I’ve heard tell of great burgers from other lands, but not this one. And I’ve lived in Long Beach for 4 years and no one’s ever mentioned it. So what makes it world famous?

As it turns out, it’s supposed to have a pretty great burger according to overwhelming reviews on Yelp. Even if I was somehow in the mood for a burger I would probably not make a good judge. But still the concept of “world famous” was stuck in my mind.

Now it turns out this place has been here for fifty years so there is a different advertising mind set from that time. That’s when the clients and the ad guys used to go get drunk for lunch if Mad Men is too believed, so I’m sure they eventually just started laughing at anything and before he knew it, 7 martinis later Dave thinks World Famous is the perfect choice and he writes a check.

Now I don’t fault Dave, sober or not. Why not put that on a sign? Who’s gonna argue but me? What’s more fascinating to me is that this is not just an old-school method, we still fall for it. I recently saw a commercial for Super Cuts where this band talks about how they go get their hair cut there, because they can “relate to their lifestyle” or something just as ridiculous. So some kid who can only play one song is probably going to buy into the idea that if he goes to Super Cuts he’ll become a rock star.

Thousands of kids wanted to “be like Mike” and bought everything Michael Jordan endorsed. When I was a kid they sold Space Food Sticks so you could eat what the astronauts ate and PF Flyers that would make you “run faster and jump higher.” It’s all about the superlatives. We want the best, brightest, and most important in our life, I guess, with the hope that we’ll become world famous.

We all seem to want to feel special and the people that are clothing us and feeding us know that we want only the best, whether it’s a thousand dollar suit or a four dollar cup of coffee. I for one, feel sorry for the guy that named his hot dog Best in the Land. How can he compete with something that’s World Famous?

Water Cooler Talk 9-24-14

Weekly random thoughts. Since I’m self-employed it’s my version of water cooler talk: no one to talk to so it goes out to cyberspace.

I wonder if pigs ever think “I’m more than a body people, I have a mind too!”

I feel sorry for the balloon animals, because I was so nice to them and it’s been several years since I made one and I fear that the clowns of the world are really not as pleasant as they may appear.

I wonder if potatoes have a preference as to how they die—baked, cut up and fried? I’m thinking mashed is just the worst.

Scientifically speaking light waves travel faster than sound waves, but why is it that you always heard your mom’s voice telling you to come home before you saw the porch light?

Peanuts must be very jealous of edamame—”Oh suddenly having to get something out is so in.”

We have age restrictions for when you are considered an adult, why aren’t there the same requirements for when you’re supposed to stop dressing like you’re a kid?

Finally had a chance to use the calculus from high school—book makes the table perfectly level, glad I saved it.

Why are brides exempt from not wearing white after Labor Day?

I’ll bet in later years Rocky fought to have his middle initial featured the same as Bullwinkle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s Sooo Hoooot

sweat

We’re facing potential danger here in Southern California, something that could affect the entire region. I might be preparing for the worst. It’s just that ten days ago when they said it was going to be 83 it was 97. And that can only mean one thing, there will be no stopping the Complain Train.

I have a very high tolerance for heat, and having spent most of my life in Chicago, I am no stranger to high temps and even higher humidity.  So maybe I am being unfair when I say Southern Californians are a big bunch of babies. They have about a dozen unpleasant days in a climate that is pretty much the best thing in the world year round. Oh sure it can drop to 30 some winter nights but that’s 30 degrees above zero and not 30 degrees below.

I know it’s all relative.  And when you’re used to a certain thing, change is difficult. But what I’ve come to also believe is that we all really love to complain. It’s how we bond. It’s our universal ice breaker. And once initiated the competition to out-oye each other is an alluring mistress. “You think you’re hot, my big toe is sweating so much I can’t even walk to the frozen yogurt shop.”

I’ve thought of my grandmother a lot the last couple of weeks. In the midst of the heat I also had to take the bus and had a lot of “poor me” instincts regarding my current financial situation and how “inconvenienced” I was having to wait for the bus, take what would amount to a 25 minute car ride and turn it into an hour and a half public transpiration excursion, and to have to suffer through walking a mile in the heat with my laptop laden backpack tearing into my sweaty shoulder. Oh boo hoo!

My father’s mother took the bus all her life in cold and hot, raised three kids on her own and worked a full time job to support them. And although I could not have known her then because I was just a distant thought in my father’s eye of how he wanted a comedian for a son one day, I never heard her complain about anything. She spent her time after retirement shuffling between the three families’ homes in the suburbs and entertaining us with visits to Jack in the Box and the toy store when we were treated to an over nighter in the city. She lived out of a suitcase, slept on one of our little beds and cooked all of her specialties. Again, no complaints.

I wish I wouldn’t have been such a selfish, self-absorbed performer in my young adulthood so that I could have wanted to hear more stories, absorbed more of her strength, and asked her more about her life. From my perspective now, she’s the type of person to aspire to be and no one of entitlement and money could hold a candle to the amazing character she possessed.

So when people said how hot it was last week I said, I can’t complain because we really have it great here and there are so little days that are uncomfortable. Some people agreed, some just wiped the sweat off the top of their head and said “it’s pretty freakin hot though” and some simply shrugged and said “so you want fries with that?”