"New York, London, Paris, Munich, everybody talk about... Pop Musik!" Okay, so maybe it did come out in 1979, but is it possible for a video or song to be any more 80s than this one? I think not.



Previously on Friday Night Videos... Dead Milkmen.

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Remember the other day when I voiced some degree of disappointment with Best Buy's Geek Squad for their lackluster efforts regarding the diagnosis of my computer's problems? Well, apparently they have folks at Corporate HQ who Google blogs and the like for references, and came upon mine.

So I get a call from them--or rather, The Wife does--and they leave a call back number for me. Which I call. The guy on the other end thanks me for calling and apologizes for the mediocre, apathetic treatment I experience at the San Marcos location. He expresses appreciation for the detail in which I go into my experience on my blog (which wasn't all that detailed IMHO, since I'm normally way too verbose by default) and informs me they're refunding my $63 since the whole process pretty much left me where I'd started.

Is that cool or what?

I've gone from having generally negative feelings about Best Buy to having generally warm fuzzy feelings about them. This is not insignificant. I hold grudges against the corporate world on general principal. Example: When The Wife and I got married, Foley's sent us a pre-approved credit card application with a special newlyweds discount offer for purchasing items of our china set that we hadn't received as wedding gifts. It was a clever way of getting us to spend money to fill out our set, which we otherwise were not likely to do. So we go in. And fill out paperwork. And more paperwork. Then they submit our paperwork. It doesn't go through. They try again. Still nothing. The manager gets involved. They call Corporate HQ. They talk on the phone. They talk to someone else. Finally, after more than two hours, they decline our application! We point out that it is pre-approved. This doesn't impress them at all. To make matters worse, they refuse to tell us why our "pre-approved" application was declined. "That's confidential," they tell us. And they refuse to apologize for the ordeal. I never set foot in Foley's again after that day, and now, all these years later, Foley's is no more. Coincidence? I think not. Remind me to tell you kids about my feud with Diamond Shamrock/Valero some day.

The point is, Best Buy has avoided this sad fate. And the disaffected Geek Squad remains employed for yet another day.

Now Playing: The Police Message in a Box

After putting it off for far too long, I racked my current batches of mead last night. That's the five gallon blueberry and 1.5 gallon passion fruit (maypop). I was worried about seeds and skins and assorted chunky bits causing a problem with the process, but things progressed fairly smoothly. The blueberry mead (technically considered a melomel--that's honey wine with fruit added) has the most stunning purple color to it. It looks like a good red wine, one that's just verging on rosé--it's dark, but not so dark you can't see through it. The passion fruit was a clear, golden yellow in color, significantly darker than, say, a chardonnay, but still fairly transparent. All in all, I was struck by how clear these two melomels are clearing out far better than I'd anticipated.

Not that either one's drinkable yet. Yeesh! The blueberry was particularly pungent, with the dreaded "Listerine" effect in full display. Probably a result of the extra sugars from the fruit. The passion fruit, however, had a much more subtle profile and will probably be drinkable much sooner.

In any event, after I racked them and added a small bit of honey to force the oxygen out of the aging vessels via fermentation, I took the next step--I oaked my mead. I've never tried this before, in all honesty. I've just recently gotten a good handle on acid blends and tannins, and how the addition of such can have a profound impact on the quality of mead, so experimenting with oak seems the next logical step. I used four ounces of medium toast French oak chips, split proportionally between the two different batches. I boiled the oak in preparation, then let them soak for about five hours before adding them to the mead. Let me tell you, I didn't expect that oak water to be as thoroughly browned as it turned out to be. It looked like I was pouring out Worchestershire sauce when I was finished. But the aroma coming up was quite enticing--woody, yes, but the vanilla overtones you often hear wine buffs speak of when discussing "oaking" was very clearly defined. Interesting.

I plan on racking the mead off the oak chips in two weeks. We'll see where things stand after that.

Now Playing: Michael Kamen The Adventures of Baron Munchausen

Over at No Fear of the Future I'm occasionally reviewing all the Twilight Zone episodes on DVD as I Netflix my way through the lot of 'em, and the thought has occurred to me that I ought to do the same with Star Trek. This is the original Trek, mind you, which I watched a lot of back in the day but haven't seen in some years. I've actually been watching these for a couple of months, but will jump in with the disc I just returned, vol. 6.

The first episode is "Miri," written by Gene Roddenberry and Adrian Spies, originally airing October 27, 1966. I know season 3 catches a lot of flack for having awful episodes, but boy, this season 1 offering is a real stinker. It starts off with the Enterprise coming across a planet that's identical to Earth, right down to the continents (does Magrathea exist in the Trek universe?). Only it's deserted. Mostly. The 1960s-era culture is dead except for surviving, pre-pubescent children. Who happen to be 300 years old. While pursuing longevity research using viral vectors, scientists on the planet released a disease that wiped out all adults while at the same time slowing the children's aging process. Naturally, Kirk and the away team come down with the disease--except for Mr. Spock--and have to convince the wary children to help lest they die from the disease as well. The kids, although they age slowly, do age, and each in turn will come down with the affliction and die. It's one of the patented Trek "alien disease of the week" episodes, an episode type introduced to much better effect in "The Naked Time." The whole hunt for a cure is by-the-numbers, Spock's immunity is noted then ignored the rest of the way, and as for the planet being an exact copy of Earth? Not only does it have absolutely no bearing on the story, but it's never mentioned again. The only thing that's kinda cool about his episode is the whole Lord of the Flies vibe going on with the child-only society. That's a nifty take that would've made much more interesting television, had they only developed that angle more.

The other episode, "The Conscience of the King," is more interesting. It's essentially a war crimes whodunit, with Kirk on the trail of an actor who may have at one time committed atrocities while governor of a colony planet that underwent a major catastrophe. It's obvious to the viewer that the actor--Arnold Moss--is indeed the wanted criminal. And the tension deepens when the few remaining witnesses that could identify him turn up dead. The twist comes when it's revealed his daughter is the one knocking off the unfortunate victims in order to "protect" her father. Pops and Kirk confront her, and Pops ends up shielding Kirk from daughter's killing phaser blast so that he'll have "no more blood on his hands." As an effort to translate Shapespearean tragedy to the SFnal setting of Star Trek, it's fairly effective. The traveling company of actors have several of Shakespeare's plays in their repertoire, just in case slower viewers miss the symbolism. The pseudo-happy ending, where the crazy daughter is taken off for "treatment" and duped into thinking Pops is alive and well, acting his heart out halfway across the galaxy, feels tacked on and is, once you get right down to it, pretty damn cruel and duplicitous. "Just a little harmless brain alteration..." Sometimes you wish the writers would think the implications through just a little more thoroughly.

Now Playing: John Mellencamp Whenever We Wanted

A few weeks ago, when I featured Mojo Nixon & Skid Roper here, I quoted from the Dead Milkmen song "Punk Rock Girl." Bet you thought that was just a throwaway line. But no, I let it simmer there until you folks thought I'd forgotten about it, and now I spring the video on you. Ain't I a clever one?



Previously on Friday Night Videos... Thomas Dolby.

Now Playing: Shakira Laundry Service

A few weeks ago, my computer stopped burning data discs. The Wife was trying to backup photos on CD-R and my computer just refused to do it. Odd, thought I. Then I found out this held true for burning audio discs as well. I ran various software repair programs, defragmenting, fixing the registry, scrubbing the hard drive for viruses and spyware... nada. I even resorted to a system restore, to no avail.

Talk about inconvenient. Not a disaster, but inconvenient none the less.

Then on Tuesday the computer refused to recognize the memory card from her camera. It insisted the card needed to be initialized--although it already had been and was full of photos. When I get home, I discover the computer is also insisting the same in regards to my flash memory drive as well as my external hard drive. In effect, it refuses to recognize any USB peripheral. All of my data (read: Stories, articles, reviews, etc.) is safe and sound on my hard drive, but I have absolutely no way to access them.

So I take the computer in to Best Buy. I'm not a huge fan of big chains, but the whole "Geek Squad" suckered me in. Plus, I didn't have time to research independent computer repair shops in San Marcos and Best Buy would be convenient for me on my commute. So I take it in and explain the problem, then outline all the unsuccessful steps I'd taken to fix it on my own. The slack-jawed yokel takes my computer and says he'll call me in 20 minutes with the diagnosis. Fast forward 45 minutes. No call comes. I'm waiting in line and finally get up to the doofus, who cheerfully informs me that there are no viruses on my computer and that I'm good to go. But I already knew there were no viruses. Did my CD burner work? Would it recognize my flash memory? Had he listened to anything I said? No, on all counts. They'd have to keep it and run a deep diagnostic on it, he informed me, but would be in touch later in the afternoon with the results. With foreboding, I left my computer there. They already had my $63 after all, but I wasn't about to throw good money after bad.

Of course, no phone call ever came. So I headed over there this afternoon to have them tell me all the hardware checks out. That's the good news. The bad news is that the operating system--Windows XP--is corrupt and unstable. It has to be re-installed. Dell will provide me with a recovery disc, after which point everything should work fine again. Except that re-installing Windows will wipe everything on my hard disc. And I can't back it up externally because Windows isn't playing nice with USB right now. Ain't life swell? Best Buy offered to do a data recovery for $100 or so, then re-install Windows for $130 once I got the disc from Dell. No thanks, pal. I've had time to research while waiting for you to never call me. There's a local outfit just a block away from me that'll do it for $65 since there's nothing wrong with my hard drive. I'm still very much annoyed by the whole situation, and cringe at all the programs I'll have to hunt down the discs to--not to mention those I installed via downloads and will have to start over from scratch with. Ugh.

And yes, I know Microsoft sucks donkeys. Macs cost too much and I'm not enough of a tech head to even consider Linux, so I'm stuck. I know this. Thank you for your concern.

Now Playing: Jimmy Buffett Boats, Beaches, Bars & Ballads

As an unabashed fan of Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, all I can say about Iron Sky is... I'm so there.



Not wild about the "rumble" of that motorcycle, tho. Sound in space is one thing, but an internal combustion engine?

Now Playing: Blue Öyster Cult Workshop of the Telescopes

It's Monday! And I've posted a new installment of MEMORY over at No Fear of the Future! I'm not late this time! How incredibly cool is that? And to top it off, there's some degree of resolution/payoff this time around. Oh, the big mystery is still looming in the background, but at least the reader kind of gets the idea of why/how Parric and Flavius are tied together. Enjoy!

Now Playing: Billy Joel Cold Spring Harbor