Write Things Worth Reading

Eight Bits of Baseball Fun: RBI Baseball

noreply@blogger.com (mindovermatt) — Sun, 08 May 2011 08:20:00 +0000

I realized recently that one of my most prized possessions is a mint condition eight-bit Nintendo Entertainment System. It's in mint condition because my brothers and I have always taken good care of our stuff, and it's a prized possession because sometimes you just get the urge to play a video game that has only two main buttons and a directional pad.

There's something magnificent about the fact that I got in on the ground floor of the Nintendo revolution and that the same small gray box that brought me so much joy throughout the 1980s is still alive and kicking, giving me the (Nintendo) power to face Piston Honda in the Punch Out ring, smash Koopa Troopas with Super Mario and hit a home run with George Brett.

That last example is the one that brings me back to my eight-bit roots most frequently: the original RBI Baseball. In a world of baseball video games that offer photo-realistic stadiums and computer-generated players who share the same facial expressions and superstitious tics as their real-life counterparts, I still crave the simplicity of this 1987 classic. The players don't really even have faces.

Aside from the nostalgia of using players who are now already inducted in or eligible for the Baseball Hall of Fame, the controls are surprisingly nimble and a deft tap of the directional pad can yield a knee-buckling strike. The ability to steal a base with the push of a button always resulted in a devilish game of cat and mouse that allowed my brother and I to play out our sibling rivalry between the foul lines. The game also features a style of defense usually reserved for t-ball teams: When you move your left fielder to go after a ball down the third base line, your entire team moves in that direction along with him. Give me the simple life.

Adding to the nostalgia factor is RBI Baseball's MIDI soundtrack that is permanently etched on my soul. I just found a website that has all the game's greatest hits, including such favorites as "introductory game music," "game music with runners on base" and my personal favorite, the immortal "game music with empty bases." That one even has a techno remix. I think I just found myself a new ringtone.

Some people need their MTV, but I need my NES. If it ever dies of natural causes, I will not only bury it in the backyard, but also immediately hop on eBay to find a replacement. How else is Rick Sutcliffe going to throw a no-hitter these days?

A Dickens of a Christmas Reflection

noreply@blogger.com (mindovermatt) — Mon, 27 Dec 2010 08:26:00 +0000

I was quite derelict in my Christmas blogging duties this year, so I thought I would let Charles Dickens shoulder some of the load for me. After searching Project Gutenberg for yuletide-related reading material, I came across a set of Dickens essays. Apparently the guy really liked writing about Christmas.

I'm not sure why, but the essay entitled "What Christmas Is As We Grow Older" struck a particular chord with me, so I offer my excerpt of it below. Warning: Dickensian English ahead. Proceed with caution and Merry Christmas!

Time was, with most of us, when Christmas Day encircling all our limited world like a magic ring, left nothing out for us to miss or seek; bound together all our home enjoyments, affections, and hopes; grouped everything and every one around the Christmas fire; and made the little picture shining in our bright young eyes, complete.

...And is our life here, at the best, so constituted that, pausing as we advance at such a noticeable mile-stone in the track as this great birthday, we look back on the things that never were, as naturally and full as gravely as on the things that have been and are gone, or have been and still are? If it be so, and so it seems to be, must we come to the conclusion that life is little better than a dream, and little worth the loves and strivings that we crowd into it?

No! Far be such miscalled philosophy from us, dear Reader, on Christmas Day! Nearer and closer to our hearts be the Christmas spirit, which is the spirit of active usefulness, perseverance, cheerful discharge of duty, kindness and forbearance! It is in the last virtues especially, that we are, or should be, strengthened by the unaccomplished visions of our youth; for, who shall say that they are not our teachers to deal gently even with the impalpable nothings of the earth!

Therefore, as we grow older, let us be more thankful that the circle of our Christmas associations and of the lessons that they bring, expands! Let us welcome every one of them, and summon them to take their places by the Christmas hearth.

Welcome, old aspirations, glittering creatures of an ardent fancy, to your shelter underneath the holly! We know you, and have not outlived you yet. Welcome, old projects and old loves, however fleeting, to your nooks among the steadier lights that burn around us. Welcome, all that was ever real to our hearts; and for the earnestness that made you real, thanks to Heaven! Do we build no Christmas castles in the clouds now? Let our thoughts, fluttering like butterflies among these flowers of children, bear witness! ...Shining from the word, as rays shine from a star, we see how, when our graves are old, other hopes than ours are young, other hearts than ours are moved; how other ways are smoothed; how other happiness blooms, ripens, and decays—no, not decays, for other homes and other bands of children, not yet in being nor for ages yet to be, arise, and bloom and ripen to the end of all!

Welcome, everything! Welcome, alike what has been, and what never was, and what we hope may be, to your shelter underneath the holly, to your places round the Christmas fire, where what is sits open- hearted! In yonder shadow, do we see obtruding furtively upon the blaze, an enemy's face? By Christmas Day we do forgive him! If the injury he has done us may admit of such companionship, let him come here and take his place. If otherwise, unhappily, let him go hence, assured that we will never injure nor accuse him.
On this day we shut out Nothing!

"Pause," says a low voice. "Nothing? Think!"

"On Christmas Day, we will shut out from our fireside, Nothing."

"Not the shadow of a vast City where the withered leaves are lying deep?" the voice replies. "Not the shadow that darkens the whole globe? Not the shadow of the City of the Dead?"

Not even that. Of all days in the year, we will turn our faces towards that City upon Christmas Day, and from its silent hosts bring those we loved, among us. City of the Dead, in the blessed name wherein we are gathered together at this time, and in the Presence that is here among us according to the promise, we will receive, and not dismiss, thy people who are dear to us!

Ron Santo: A Wonderful Life

noreply@blogger.com (mindovermatt) — Sat, 04 Dec 2010 07:34:00 +0000

With Cubs legend Ron Santo passing away during the Christmas season, I can't help but notice a parallel between his extraordinary life and my favorite Christmas movie, It's A Wonderful Life.

In the immortal holiday classic, George Bailey is a man with lofty goals whose life is not going according to his plans. He wants nothing more than to leave the small town of his birth, attend college, travel the world and plan big cities. None of that ever happens, but divine intervention eventually leads George Bailey to realize the enormous impact his existence has had on the lives of those around him. He didn’t need the recognition, wealth and fame he so craved to make a lasting impression on the world.

It’s A Wonderful Life might as well be subtitled The Ron Santo Story. Ronnie had dreams of winning a World Series as a player, of being recognized for his outstanding career by being inducted into Cooperstown and of watching his beloved Chicago Cubs win the World Series from his post in the broadcast booth. None of that ever happened, but Santo didn’t need a visit from Clarence the angel to embrace his wonderful life. He knew how blessed he was and that he could use his talents and fame to positively impact the world around him.

And did he ever.

As I alternately laughed uproariously and choked back tears today listening to interviews with Santo’s colleagues intermingled with highlights from his Cubs broadcasting career, I realized anew the impression he made on my life. Usually when a notable athlete/celebrity/dignitary passes away, I feel a sense of detached sadness, but this is the first time that such a passing has filled me with a true sense of grief. I will add my sentiments to the throngs of people who never met Ronnie in person, but feel as if they’ve lost a dear friend.

Many people have already said that Ron Santo was the consummate Chicago Cubs fan and that is certainly true. I spent many a summer day sharing the heart-pounding experience of a Cubs game with Santo and play-by-play man Pat Hughes. While Pat stuck to the script and gave a gripping account of the action on the field, Ronnie could be counted on to deliver the exact rollercoaster of emotional responses that every other Cubs fan was feeling. He was the unapologetic, loud-mouthed, die-hard Cubs fan in the booth and that is exactly what we wanted him to be. Anyone who complained about his lack of skill as a color commentator or listened to the Pat and Ron Show expecting to hear great insight from Ron Santo was completely missing the point and quite simply barking up the wrong tree.

Santo embodied the often bipolar nature of the Cub fan. His blood pressure would rise and fall with the tenor of the baseball season. He would exult in a come-from-behind victory, howl during a horrible inning and mope after a tough loss. But win or lose, he was always back the next day and he was always expecting victory. At a very young age, Santo hitched his wagon to a team that frequently serves lemons to its fans. Thankfully, he quickly developed a winning recipe for lemonade.

Beyond the baseball diamond, Santo saved himself some lemonade, too. He faced adversity with a smile, even when it forced a dramatic altering of his goals and plans. His battle with diabetes has been well-documented and cost him a longer playing career and eventually both of his legs. Anyone who doubts the depth or authenticity of his eternal optimism need only watch This Old Cub, the excellent and inspirational 2004 documentary that shows the rigorous routine of his daily life. Better yet, you can read about it in his own words.

Cubs baseball will never be the same again. The Pat and Ron Show has had its series finale (sadly wasted on one of the most forgettable Cubs seasons in recent history) and the team has lost its greatest booster.

But for once, at least the posthumous canonization of an athlete is well deserved. Santo’s life was an inspiration. I’m sure he would want his death to be a wakeup call for all of us: No matter what you’re going through, it can still be a wonderful life.

Thanks, Ronnie. Rest in peace.

[Originally posted to my Cubs blog, Nearly Next Year]

The Honeymooners...Starring Jack Benny?

noreply@blogger.com (mindovermatt) — Fri, 03 Dec 2010 01:00:00 +0000

I love classic comedy and I grew up watching reruns of Ralph Kramden and Ed Norton on The Honeymooners--the gold standard of television sitcoms. If you've never had the pleasure, see what you've missed before reading on.

Virtually every situation comedy that followed The Honeymooners has borrowed something from that show. It set a high comedic bar with a perfect blend of clever writing, one-liners, physical comedy, and stellar performances (except for Norton's wife Trixie...I never could understand why they chose to surround such a terrible actress with a set of comedy geniuses).

My love for and familiarity with this show made me ecstatic to uncover a hilarious parody that aired on The Jack Benny Show in 1958, two years after The Honeymooners was off the air. In the sketch, Audrey Meadows reprises her role as Ralph Kramden's wife Alice, while singer Dennis Day performs a spot-on impersonation of Ed Norton and Jack Benny himself appears as Ralph Kramden.

The clip below is actually Part 3 of the sketch, but it demonstrates Benny's unexpectedly deft impersonation of Jackie Gleason's well-known character. If you're so inclined, start at the beginning of the sketch to get the full effect.

This is one of the best parodies of the show that I've ever seen, and there have been a lot of Honeymooners parodies over the years. I always thought of parody--especially one show parodying another--as a form of comedy that didn't really succeed until Saturday Night Live and other more "modern" efforts, but Jack Benny has clearly proven me wrong.

P.S. This blog usually serves up Christmas-themed posts during the Christmas season, so here's the Christmas connection: I discovered this Jack Benny episode while I was watching a classic Christmas episode of his show. Check out the full episode here and thank me later. If you actually watch it, I can guarantee you will be on the floor laughing at the character played by Mel Blanc (the voice of Bugs Bunny).

September in Song

noreply@blogger.com (mindovermatt) — Fri, 03 Sep 2010 21:10:00 +0000

It's Labor Day weekend and somehow Summer 2010 is officially coming to a close. For those of us in Chicago, it was as far-too-brutally hot a summer as it was a far-too-brutally snowy winter, so for once I can't say I'm all that sorry to see it coming to an end.

Weather-wise, early September is probably one of my favorite times of year. The humidity is gone and there's a crispness to the air that hints at the coming winter without reminding you how much you're actually going to hate that.

September is one of my favorite times of the year musically as well. Maybe it's the end-of-summer blues, but for some reason, many artists have chosen to write contemplative, slightly uneasy, moving, bitter or beautiful songs about the waning days of summer and all the emotions that can accompany that transition. Without further ado, here are my Top Five September Songs. Put 'em on your iPod and go enjoy these precious few weeks of glorious pre-fall weather.

5. Wake Me Up When September Ends by Green Day

We'll start with the most recent. This one is bitter to the max, overplayed on the radio to the max and not even really one of my personal favorites. But it is September-themed and most of the other songs on this list are a bit dated, so I thought I'd include something hip for the kids. Green Day gets angsty in a formulaic, high school way. Whatever they're crying about probably won't matter at all in a few years. Wake them up...or don't.

4. September by Earth, Wind and Fire

OK, now we're getting somewhere. Unlike Green Day's effort, this song can't get enough of September, which is more like how I feel about it. The song revels in how much fun Earth, Wind and Fire had in a particular September and compels you to remember it, too. Also, it's really catchy. Your foot is tapping right now. You didn't even notice.

Bonus: YouTube band Pomplamoose provides an equally foot-tapping cover!

3. September in the Rain by Frank Sinatra

If you get past the opening riff that sounds like an off-key version of the theme from Jeopardy, you'll hear Sinatra's pretty little rendition of this pop standard. It manages to be sentimental and wistful without being emo. Take a note, Green Day. This song originally appeared on what is arguably my favorite Sinatra album, Sinatra's Swingin' Session!!!. Any album that has three exclamation points in its title has got to be good.

2. September Grass by James Taylor

I came across this song randomly on Pandora and was taken in by the smooth guitar licks and the fact that James Taylor's voice hasn't changed at all despite his long, hard livin' career. This song came out in 2002, but Sweet Baby James has still got it and does a great job integrating wistful end-of-summer imagery into an easy listening love song.

1. The Summer Wind by Frank Sinatra

Ah, yes. Old Blue Eyes (and he was already past the September of His Years when he recorded this song) gives us the official song for the end of the summer. Any summer. Every summer. And he doesn't even have to mention September. The song's arrangement evokes exactly what Sinatra is singing about and even sort of sounds like that crisp wind blowing through the trees that I mentioned earlier. I can't explain it. Also, the song is used as part of the score in Matchstick Men, which by extension is a great movie to watch during this time of year. (but that's a separate list for a separate post)

What other end-of-summer songs should I be listening to? Now is the time!

In Defense of the Dumb Phone

noreply@blogger.com (mindovermatt) — Wed, 11 Aug 2010 06:36:00 +0000

I haven't gotten a new cell phone since 2005.

Are you suitably shocked? Most people are. Whenever I whip out my vintage Samsung SGH-X497, I usually hear a chorus of "You don't have an iPhone?! Not even a BlackBerry? I thought you're Mr. Technology!"

It's true. I am Mr. Technology. But I've never been Mr. Mobile Technology and I'm not about to start. It's not that I doubt the usefulness or importance of owning a device that can put all the knowledge of the world in your pocket (or, more specifically, put all the knowledge of the world in your geeky Blackberry holster). There's no denying that the present and future of communication, information and the intersection of the two are currently being charted by every new high-priced phone Apple releases. I'm just saying that, for the time being, I want no part of it.

Wanna Get Away?
Remember those Southwest Airlines commercials with the tag line "Wanna get away?" Sure you do. Well, it turns out that's a pretty unrealistic sentiment. You can't get away. Ever. You won't let yourself. The world is a far-too-connected place sometimes, and you can blame that mobile device on your belt. (The holster still looks geeky, by the way.) Along with the ability to instantly hit up Google and find out what other movie that familiar actor was in, the bells and whistles of your smart phone have introduced four little words into the universal lexicon that have changed vacation time forever: Sent from my iPhone. Sure, you're out of the office. But even when you're on a golf course in California, your boss in Chicago knows you're still seeing all those work-related e-mails. Besides, this is urgent and wont' take too much time. Wanna get away? You can't.

Likewise, when the boss is on that golf course in California, he's free to check in with everyone in the office from the sand trap on the ninth hole. Have you finished inputting the revisions he left for you? By the way, it's sunny here. Wanna get away? You thought he did.

It's not that I don't like e-mail. Far from it! When I'm on a computer, I'm devoted to Gmail. Sometimes I have to wait a while to reply to a message, just so I don't freak out the sender with an instantaneous response. But when I'm away from my e-mail, I want to be completely away. It's a voluntary decision that becomes an involuntary responsibility when the inbox follows you everywhere.

I value the ability to get completely off the grid, so when I started shopping for a new phone, I knew I would be looking for the best, dumbest phone I could find.

The Quest for a Dumb Phone
I'm going to bury my old phone in the backyard. I loved that little guy and it did everything I wanted: made calls, sent texts and rang when people called or texted me. Unfortunately, the battery wasn't lasting too long anymore and the call button worked about 45 percent of the time. I don't know the exact conversion, but five human years has got to be close to 75 cell phone years. 10-4, good buddy.

But it's hard to get a good dumb phone these days. I was obviously overdue for an upgrade (my phone still said Cingular on it) and AT&T had loads of online deals for me for all the best smart phones. For a while, my inner techie was intrigued by the idea of joining the cast of thousands who think they have all the answers because their iPhone, um, technically does. So I headed over to my local AT&T store and decided to give these smart phones a serious test drive.

I approached each phone as if it were my own and began composing a brilliant test text: Matt was here. It didn't matter which phone I tried. I hated them all. My thumbs slipped off the buttons, forcing ridiculous typos that I would have avoided with numeric keys and the T9 setting. The vast system of menus, icons and navigation to reach the phones' unnecessary features confounded my short attention span. And the thought of brandishing a Blackberry on a geeky belt holster remained as repulsive as ever.

So I came back down to earth, swallowed my Web-savvy pride and combed the AT&T site for the dumbest phone I could find. I settled on the LG GU295. It has a camera (the one upgrade I really wanted) and doesn't do much else, unless you pay extra for some feature.

You can judge for yourself in the picture below, but I would even dare say it's a smart phone, as long as we're using the fourth definition of that word.

'Calling Dick Tracy' 20 Years Later

noreply@blogger.com (mindovermatt) — Sat, 26 Jun 2010 07:52:00 +0000

If my childhood were categorized into anthropological stages, defining each stage would require no more effort than simply looking at the toys, TV shows and movies that I happened to be obsessed with during a particular segment of my youth. There was the He-Man era, the Batman period, the Ninja Turtles phase, the X-Men years and (briefly) the Power Rangers months.

But none of these obsessions came remotely close to the level of passionate interest I reserved for an old-time, crime-fighting comic book detective dressed in yellow. Warren Beatty's cinematic revival of Dick Tracy fascinated me in a way that few things ever have before or since.

A recent Slate article brought a startling fact to my attention: The movie that spawned my obsession came out exactly 20 years ago. Twenty years ago? How is that possible? Where has the time gone?

As the article aptly points out, the movie never lived up to the hype that Disney manufactured for it. In the summer of 1990, the film's iconic logo of red letters outlined in yellow was ubiquitous ((I still get a momentary jolt of nostalgic excitement whenever I see it) and was plastered on any item that could possibly be sold. Many of these items were soon in my possession.

I obviously had the yellow trench coat and yellow fedora, as well as the trademark two-way radio wristwatch (both the clunky walkie-talkie version and the functioning digital watch variety). I also had action figures, trading cards, coffee mugs, pins, magnets, books and even Dick Tracy Converse shoes. Jealous yet? If it was Dick Tracy-related, I was interested. I'm pretty sure that every gift I received for Christmas 1990 was somehow tied Dick Tracy.

But why did I like it so much? The Slate article claims that the movie was a misguided Warren Beatty vanity project and not worth anyone's time. Well, first of all, the Slate critic is flat out wrong. I recently watched the movie again, fearing that the removal of the rose-colored glasses of my childhood would reveal the film to be a horrible mess (as other childhood delights have become upon adult reflection), but I was pleasantly surprised.

Twenty years later, the movie still manages to take me back to the engaging, bygone 1920s world that I longed to inhabit when I first watched the movie. There are ugly gangsters brought to life with phenomenal makeup and no CGI, a conflicted hero who must choose between duty and power, a hilarious and Oscar-worthy performance by Al Pacino, Madonna (even as an 8-year-old, this movie made me develop a huge crush), brilliant old-time-sounding-but-newly-composed songs by Stephen Sondheim, machine gun shootouts, antique cars and a vibrant color palette that brings a comic book to life on the big screen. If none of that does anything for you, the unending parade of celebrity cameos will definitely hold your interest. Dick Van Dyke as a villain? Yes. What's not to like?

In my adult years, I've found it frustratingly difficult to recapture the ability to get lost in my imagination--a skill that came naturally at every "phase" of my childhood, regardless of which toys I was currently obsessing over. It was so easy to don the yellow trench coat, strap on the wristwatch and chase Pruneface around my backyard with a Tommy gun. Watching this movie lets me peer through that youthful window one more time, and--20 years later--the view is still a ton of fun.

Dick Tracy Fun Facts

After seeing the movie, I tried my best to get into the comic strip, but it was just too dang boring. I've looked at it every once in a while over the years and I stand by my initial claim that nothing ever happens in that strip. All they do is talk. I have yet to see a single bullet fired.
During the summer of 1990, I forced my family to drive to Woodstock, IL for the grand opening of the Chester Gould Dick Tracy Museum, honoring the creator and author of the strip. Much like the comic itself, I found the museum to be somewhat of a snooze. I do have vivid memories of the grand opening parade, however, concluding with a shootout in which Dick Tracy shot a bunch of gangsters to death with a machine gun firing blanks. That was not boring.
The museum closed in 2008.
My first trip to Disney World occurred in the wake of this movie's release and the parks were crawling with merchandise and movie tie-ins. This might have played a subconscious role in my fondness for the place as a vacation destination...
I just conducted a search for "Dick Tracy" on Amazon and realized that I once owned the majority of the 24 items on the first page of search results. Thanks to Disney's tremendous marketing and the film's failure to become a classic, it's reassuring to know that I could fairly easily reassemble my collection of Dick Tracy paraphernalia.
I had every Dick Tracy movie action figure, except for the one that no store seemed to carry--The Blank. I had no idea until looking it up just now that the figure was only sold in Canada and pulled because the Blank's mask was removable and gave away the movie's twist ending. Where was eBay when I needed it?
This commercial (and others like it for all kinds of toys) really annoyed me because I couldn't buy all the cool backgrounds and accessories that the kids in the commercials had at their disposal. Where was I supposed to find an action figure-sized coffee cup to furnish Dick Tracy's office?
The Dick Tracy Nintendo game was impossible.
This is all more than you ever wanted to know about me or Dick Tracy.

My Top Three Commencement Addresses

noreply@blogger.com (mindovermatt) — Tue, 22 Jun 2010 02:06:00 +0000

Northwestern University finally held their commencement ceremony on Friday, so I think every possible member of the Class of 2010 has now officially graduated. Before the pomp and circumstance are too distant from everyone's minds, I wanted to share the three best commencement addresses I've ever heard. And, no, they do not include the addresses at my two NU commencement ceremonies (John McCain in 2005 and Barack Obama in 2006). It's amazing how much more heartfelt and eloquent speakers can be when they're not running for President of the United States...

If you don't have time to read/listen to these right now, be sure to bookmark them for further study. They are exceptionally well-written and contain tons of insights to chew on.

#3 Wynton Marsalis, Northwestern University, 2009

Our tour of commencement excellence (commenxcellence?) begins in Evanston, where the announcement of jazz prodigy Marsalis as speaker was greeted far too frequently by "Who's that?" from students. Due to a pending monsoon on the day of the ceremony, Marsalis had to shorten his speech, reading only the first and last pages. Even so, I was blown away by the force of his ideas, the eloquence of his prose and the awesomeness of the New Orleans ditty he played to close out his address.

EXCERPT: "See, we are always in the process of becoming ourselves. So, enjoyment – whatever it means to you – is something to pursue. Just like you lay out plans to be rich or in shape, plan to be happy. When something makes you happy – chase it. And if you’re not good at it, work on becoming good at it. And if you can’t be good at it, be happy being bad. The positive frame of reference and the power of affirmation create good health. Affirm people around you, and you will be affirmed."

VIDEO: Watch Marsalis's abbreviated speech and see him wail on his trumpet.

AUDIO: Fortunately, Marsalis agreed to record a full version of his speech, which I urge you to download and put on your iPod. I know I did.

FULL TEXT: Read it all here.

#2 David Brooks, Wake Forest University, 2007

I forget exactly how I came across this speech, but I liked the fact that so much wisdom was delivered with so much humor. I also really liked his definition of journalist.

EXCERPT: "Now, commencement is a ceremony when the university gets a rich and successful person to tell you that being rich and successful is not that important. Well I've got bad news for you. I'm not that rich and I'm not that successful. But I have been around successful people. You see, I'm a journalist. If you go to a stadium and you see the crowd doing the wave, there are some people who just sit there watching. Those people are journalists. We lead boring lives while hanging around people who lead interesting lives."

AUDIO: Click here to download the MP3 of the speech. This one is also on my iPod.

FULL TEXT: Read it all here.

#1 Tony Snow, Catholic University, 2007

This is the most powerful commencement address I've ever read. Delivered just a little more than a year before Snow succumbed to colon cancer at age 53, it's written with the compelling combination of faith and wisdom that so often seems to manifest itself in people who are staring down the barrel of a gun and wrestling with their own mortality. There's no multimedia version of this one, but it's well worth reading.

EXCERPT: "And once you realize that there is something greater than you out there, then you have to decide, "Do I acknowledge it and do I act upon it?" You have to at some point surrender yourself. And there is nothing worthwhile in your life that will not at some point require an act of submission."

FULL TEXT: Read it all here.

So those are my favorites. The best part about commencement addresses is the fact that there is a new batch of wisdom being unleashed on graduates every year. What other fantastic and inspiring commencement addresses are out there?

Who Needs the Olympics? Not Us!

noreply@blogger.com (mindovermatt) — Sat, 13 Feb 2010 06:59:00 +0000

Everybody loves the Summer Olympics. I understand that. But this year there seems to be even less love than usual for the Winter Olympics and you have to wonder why.

I remember a time not so long ago when the Winter Olympics were as culturally cool as their summer counterpart. And it wasn't just because Nancy Kerrigan and Tonya Harding made for sensational tabloid headlines--people were legitimately interested in Kristi Yamaguchi and Michelle Kwan. Figure skating was the winter version of gymnastics and Team USA was golden. Other events were big, too. Remember Bonnie Blair? Of course you do. Can you name anyone on the 2010 Team USA Speed Skating Team? Me neither.

So why are the Winter Games so scorned these days? Aside from the fact that our culture now encourages the immediate cynical scorning of anything as quickly and often as possible (usually in 140 characters or less), I think the real reason behind our general Olympic malaise is the fact that we have become desensitized to competition.

The Olympic Games used to be the main venue for watching your talented fellow human beings perform feats of strength, precision, grace and athleticism. They'd head into the arena/rink/slope/course/etc., perform their skill for the judges and--panting from the exertion--wait for the scores to be handed down. The process was repeated for each participant and the drama built to a blistering crescendo until the Olympic medals were finally distributed. People tuned in to see the triumph of the human spirit and the culmination of years of hard work and training.

Now you can turn the TV on any night of the week and see any number of contests that follow the model outlined above: American Idol, The Amazing Race, Dancing with the Stars, So You Think You Can Dance, America's Next Top Model, Survivor, The Biggest Loser, The Apprentice, Wipeout, American Gladiators, and on and on...

In these cases, the coveted Olympic Gold comes in the form of a record deal, a large cash prize, an impressive amount of weight loss or simply 15 minutes of fleeting pop culture fame. The scale is decidedly smaller than the international stage of the Olympic Games, but it still satisfies our need to watch someone achieve something extraordinary and be recognized as such on a continuum against others in their field.

In fact, we like this better than the Olympics. Anybody with vocal chords can try out for American Idol. The formal training is slim to none, so the gold medal seems much more attainable. Singing? Of course I can do that! Training on ski slopes for years and years? Don't be ridiculous. What do you think I am? An Olympian?

After watching regular people get rewarded for more down-to-Earth feats every week, the Olympics just don't hold the same high place in the American consciousness anymore.

I think it all comes down to one question: How can the Olympic Committee expect anyone to care about the Luge now that we've seen Donny Osmond do the Lindy Hop?

Groundhog Day and the Meaning of Life

noreply@blogger.com (mindovermatt) — Sat, 06 Feb 2010 04:11:00 +0000

Nearly every Groundhog Day, I make it my business to watch Harold Ramis's immortal 1990s romantic comedy classic of the same name. And every time I see the film, I enjoy it a little bit more.

For the unfortunate few who have not yet had the pleasure, the movie weaves the epic tale of Pittsburgh weatherman Phil Connors (Bill Murray, at his sardonic best) who is ready to sleepwalk through his annual trip to Punxsutawny, Pennsylvania for the town's hokey Groundhog Day festivities. After going through the motions, a snowstorm traps him, his producer Rita (the angelic and ageless Andie Macdowell) and his cameraman (character actor Chris Elliott). The following morning, Phil realizes that he is not only stuck in Punxsutawny, but stuck in the same 24-hour period that he just lived through.

The movie kicks into high gear when Phil starts exploring the options associated with eternally reliving the same day. At first he lives recklessly and exorbitantly--eating whatever he wants, stealing money, breaking laws, killing himself repeatedly, using his situation to creatively pick up women and attempting to manipulatively win Rita's affection.

After that lifestyle drives him to the brink of insanity and despair, however, we watch as sarcastic self-centered Phil begins to melt into sarcastic redeemed Phil. Those cyclical 24 hours--seemingly devoid of consequence by nature of his situation--felt even more inconsequential when spent on self-fulfillment and momentary thrill-seeking.

When Phil begins to use his endless string of days to better himself and the lives of those around him, the gray Punxsutawny winter begins to feel a bit warmer. Phil learns to play piano, read French poetry and carve ice sculptures. Better still, he spends his day(s) running around town on do-gooder "errands" that end up saving lives, flat tires and marriages.

Phil's fundamental attitude on life has shifted and--as in any romantic comedy worth its salt--this helps him win the woman of his dreams. To me, at least, this doesn't come across as unrealistic. While Rita correctly wrote Phil off as a jerk on February 1, he is a refreshingly changed man on February 2.

When I've watched this movie in the past, I've always taken it at face value: Phil had all the time in the world to improve himself and finally broke the spell when he learned to spend his life putting others before himself. In learning to do that, he got what he wanted all along.

But after this viewing I realized two things:
1. Groundhog Day is a sheer masterpiece and my vote for best romantic comedy of the 1990s. Sorry, Tom Hanks.

2. Phil isn't the only one with lots of time to improve himself. We may not be forced to repeat the same 24-hour period, but a lot of us live as if we are. The calendar moves forward, but our perspective remains unchanged.

How many days will you spend being annoyed by encounters with Ned Ryerson? How much time will you waste trying to convince that girl she's the one for you? How many Groundhog Days must pass before you realize that most of your all-encompassing concerns, needs and worries are about as important as whether or not Punxsutawny Phil sees his shadow?

I'm asking myself these questions right now. And it's time to start using my time a bit more wisely. This could be the end of a very long day.

'Nuttin' for Christmas' is actually quite somethin'

noreply@blogger.com (mindovermatt) — Mon, 04 Jan 2010 04:10:00 +0000

Courtesy of my animation buff brother, here is one last cup of Christmas cheer. It's a newly released animated short around a Christmas novelty song that I neglected to include in my previous post: Stan Freberg's immortal version of "Nuttin' For Christmas," which was originally released in 1955.

This animated version was single-handedly produced by animator Doug Compton and it's pretty brilliant. I've been listening to this song or many, many Christmases and Compton's animation closely matches what I've been picturing in my mind all this time. I like the fact that his interpretation gives the song new life and it really seems like this cartoon was meant to go with the song all along. It just took 55 years for them to come together...

Enjoy and Happy New Year!

The Fleeting Novelty of the Novelty Christmas Song

noreply@blogger.com (mindovermatt) — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 00:25:00 +0000

This is a big year for the most famous novelty Christmas song ever, as it is the 30th anniversary of the immortal, much-maligned "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer."

Good Morning America did a segment on the tune, but annoyingly doesn't allow you to embed their videos, so you'll have to go to their site to watch it.

After hearing the back story, I actually appreciate the song a little more now. I've followed a strict "turn it off" policy for the last several years, but seeing Dr. Elmo, an old retired veterinarian who recorded the song for his friends and never expected it to go anywhere, the whole thing is a bit more palatable. It's not his fault the radio drove his song into the ground.

Also, I had somehow never seen the 1983 music video.

Novelty songs are aptly named, as the novelty usually wears off after a few listens. Nevertheless, I've heard a few over the years that have stuck with me and are worth dusting off once every Christmas season.

In no particular order, here are my Top 5 Novelty Christmas Songs. Don't overdo it.

Brave New World of Christmas Lights & Decorations

noreply@blogger.com (mindovermatt) — Mon, 14 Dec 2009 22:28:00 +0000

Anyone can string lights up on their house and the Osborne Family kind of took that to its greatest extreme. If you want to impress people today, your Christmas decorations have got to go the extra mile and do much more than just hang there and blink.

Below you will find three examples of where the decorative bar has now been set. Eat your heart out, Clark Griswold.

Computer-Controlled Dancing Christmas Lights
Bonus points for setting the light show to a techno version of "Amazing Grace."

A Guitar Hero's Christmas
The lights only work if you wear sunglasses at night like the kid in this video.

Frosty the Nano-Scale Snowman
All I want for Christmas is a nanomanipulation system.

Sketchy Santas: Best. Christmas. Site. Ever.

noreply@blogger.com (mindovermatt) — Mon, 07 Dec 2009 23:09:00 +0000

Who's got a beard that just won't stay?
Sketchy Santa's got a beard that just won't stay!
Who makes children run away?
Sketchy Santa makes children run away!
Beard won't stay!
Run away!
Must be Sketchy! Must be Sketchy!
Must be Sketchy Santa Claus!

Today I was pointed to the best Christmas Web site I'll probably ever see in my life. If you're on Facebook, Twitter, G-Chat or anywhere else that I have an account, I've already shared it with you and you probably passed it on to others, but it's worth re-posting here, too.

Sketchy Santas!

There's too many of them!

It's horrible, but you just can't turn away.

Is that even a Santa?!

I think the Web site's tag line sums it up quite nicely: Santas be sketchy.

Top 5 Christmas Saxophone Solos

noreply@blogger.com (mindovermatt) — Sat, 05 Dec 2009 22:14:00 +0000

With hundreds (thousands?) of Christmas songs to choose from, there are a seemingly endless number of ways to classify them and lots of "Top 5 This" or "Best of That" lists to be made. This is the first of a few unorthodox classifications I'll be adding to the pile this year.

I realized a while back that there are quite a few Christmas songs containing truly great saxophone solos. The saxophone is one of those incredibly instruments that has been almost universally neglected by post-1970s mainstream music with rare exceptions by Dave Matthews and Bruce Springsteen. Nevertheless, the horn's ability to express emotion is rarely topped by other instruments, as anyone who has ever listened to classic jazz music can attest.

Fortunately the saxophone comes out of hibernation for Christmas and takes its rightful place in the alternatively joyous, wistful and nostalgic sounds of holiday music. A well-executed sax solo goes beyond a few pleasingly placed notes that complement the melody. The best saxophone solo will stand out from the rest of the song and say, "Notice me!", and you do. The length of the solo can vary, but long or short, you can feel it.

Surprisingly, some of my favorite saxophone solos appear in some well-worn Christmas tunes. Take a fresh listen and be blown away by the musicianship of the saxophonists.

Unfortunately, Playlist.com didn't have one of my all-time favorite saxophone solos in an embeddable form, so I had to go to the mixed bag of YouTube. Fortunately, the song was available. In typical YouTube fashion, however, Harry Connick Jr.'s version of Blue Christmas is inexplicably the soundtrack for a music video about Star Trek Voyager's Janeway and her addiction to coffee. Enjoy the solo!

P.S. Am I missing any awesome Christmas sax solos? Leave a comment and let me know!

Hear the Distant Music of the Hounds

noreply@blogger.com (mindovermatt) — Sat, 05 Dec 2009 08:35:00 +0000

I came across the passage below in a random Christmas Treasury book of essays that I found at my local library. The piece is entitled The Distant Music of the Hounds and it was written by E.B. White in 1949.

Despite being 60 years old, the text is eerily prescient of the way Christmas is so often perceived in our own times. It made me realize that the hectic distractions of modern life that I often assume are byproducts of 21st century living were just as present in previous generations--even if the distractions had different names and were less technological.

The passage isn't that long, so I really think you should read it and then try to live it:

"To perceive Christmas through its wrapping becomes more difficult with every year. There was a little device we noticed in one of the sporting-goods stores—a trumpet that hunters hold to their ears so that they can hear the distant music of the hounds. Something of the sort is needed now to hear the incredibly distant sound of Christmas in these times, through the dark, material woods that surround it. “Silent Night,” canned and distributed in thundering repetition in the department stores, has become one of the greatest of all noisemakers, almost like the rattles and whistles of Election Night. We rode down on an escalator the other morning through the silent-nighting of the loudspeakers, and the man just in front of us was singing, 'I’m gonna wash this store right outta my hair, I’m gonna wash this store...'

The miracle of Christmas is that, like the distant and very musical voice of the hound, it penetrates finally and becomes heard in the heart—over so many years, through so many cheap curtain-raisers. It is not destroyed even by all the arts and craftiness of the destroyers, having an essential simplicity that is everlasting and triumphant, at the end of confusion. We once went out at night with coonhunters and we were aware that it was not so much the promise of the kill that took the men away from their warm homes and sent them through the cold shadowy woods, it was something more human, more mystical—something even simpler. It was the night, and the excitement of the note of the hound, first heard, then not heard. It was the natural world, seen at its best and most haunting, unlit except by stars, impenetrable except to the knowing and the sympathetic.

Christmas in 1949 must compete as never before with the dazzling complexity of man, whose tangential desires and ingenuities have created a world that gives any simple thing the look of obsolescence—as though there were something inherently foolish in what is simple, or natural. The human brain is about to turn certain functions over to an efficient substitute, and we hear of a robot that is now capable of handling the tedious details of psychoanalysis, so that the patient no longer need confide in a living doctor but can take his problems to a machine, which sifts everything and whose “brain” has selective power and the power of imagination. One thing leads to another. The machine that is imaginative will, we don’t doubt, be heir to the ills of the imagination; one can already predict that the machine itself may become sick emotionally, from strain and tension, and be compelled at last to consult a medical man, whether of flesh or of steel. We have tended to assume that the machine and the human brain are in conflict. Now the fear is that they are indistinguishable. Man not only is notably busy himself but insists that the other animals follow his example. A new bee has been bred artificially, busier than the old bee.

So this day and this century proceed toward the absolutes of convenience, of complexity, and of speed, only occasionally holding up the little trumpet (as at Christmastime) to be reminded of the simplicities, and to hear the distant music of the hound. Man’s inventions, directed always onward and upward, have an odd way of leading back to man himself, as a rabbit track in snow leads eventually to the rabbit. It is one of his more endearing qualities that man should think his tracks lead outward, toward something else, instead of back around the hill to where he has already been; and it is one of his persistent ambitions to leave earth entirely and travel by rocket into space, beyond the pull of gravity, and perhaps try another planet, as a pleasant change. He knows that the atomic age is capable of delivering a new package of energy; what he doesn’t know is whether it will prove to be a blessing. This week, many will be reminded that no explosion of atoms generates so hopeful a light as the reflection of a star, seen appreciatively in a pasture pond. It is there we perceive Christmas—and the sheep quiet, and the world waiting."

via The New Yorker

That's right. My blog is the only place on the Internet where you can find a post as profound as this one preceded by Porky Pig singing Blue Christmas. You're welcome on both counts.

Porky Pig Covers Blue Christmas

noreply@blogger.com (mindovermatt) — Thu, 03 Dec 2009 22:39:00 +0000

If you're in the right mood, you won't stop laughing at this.

Top 5 New Holiday Carols from Local Artists

noreply@blogger.com (mindovermatt) — Mon, 30 Nov 2009 22:50:00 +0000

One of the joys of the Christmas season is the onslaught of new Christmas music. Sometimes it's a newly discovered cover of a well-worn favorite and sometimes it's an original holiday ditty that strikes the right chords and pulls the right heart strings to earn a place in the annual yuletide rotation.

The official Christmas season is only four days old, but in this brave new world of incessant social media, I feel like my new holiday music horizons have already been expanded more than they sometimes are in an entire Christmas season.

Along those lines, the Chicago Tribune's Mark Caro is overseeing a "New Holiday Classic" contest that asked readers to write and perform original holiday songs and submit them via YouTube so that the general public could vote on them. From 110 entries, 12 finalists were chosen.

You can view all of the finalists here, but if you don't have time for that, you can check out my Top 5 below.

5. Christmas Everywhere by Elias Fey
It's country and catchy.

4. What Christmas Means by Dina Bach
Strong female voice? Check. Vibrant piano riff? Check. Heartfelt lyrics? Check.

3. Santa's Comin' Here by Dick Eastman
It's got a catchy chorus and a slight Doobie Brothers feel to it.

2. Just Can't Wait by Brad Smith
This guy's song sounds like a lost Barenaked Ladies track and he gets bonus points for using Calvin and Hobbes artwork.

1. CTA X-Mas Train by The Snow Angels
So it might not be the most musically or lyrically amazing new classic, but the fact that it's an ode to the CTA's magnificent Christmas train makes it the obvious winner of a contest looking for original Christmas carols from Chicagoans. And it's winning in the poll right now, too.

What's your favorite? Go vote for it!

A Scrooge-Like Perspective on 3D Movies

noreply@blogger.com (mindovermatt) — Sat, 28 Nov 2009 07:33:00 +0000

After stuffing ourselves with the traditional Thanksgiving dinner, my family has developed the tradition of dragging ourselves out of our food coma and heading to our local cinema to see the newest Christmas movie release. This has worked out well some years (The Polar Express was fantastic in IMAX) and not so well in other years (avoid Christmas with the Kranks at all costs). When Hollywood doesn't provide us with any halfway decent-looking options, we just stay home and watch Elf. (Instant classic. There's no denying it.)

This year we went to see Disney's A Christmas Carol in Disney Digital 3D. Yes, that is the full title. Trust me. When I called for showtimes, Fandango told me to "try again later" and hung up on me three times before I got the title right.

Before I give my take on the movie, I should probably come clean: I pretty much hate 3D movies. I didn't always hate them, but it's gotten to the point where 3D movies are being released almost every week and it's simply unnecessary. We saw trailers for four upcoming animated movies and three of them will be in 3D. WHY?! Is this the 1980s? 3D movie technology hasn't improved much since then and you're still relying on the quality of a cheap pair of used glasses to give you an effective movie-going experience. A good film will transport me to another world in two dimensions. Wearing glasses actually hinders the immersion effect.

So I knew we wouldn't be seeing Disney's A Christmas Carol in Disney Digital 3D in Disney Digital 3D. Fortunately, Disney released the movie shortly after Halloween, so it's not exactly the king of the cineplex anymore and it was easy to find a non-3D showtime.

Overall, the movie itself is definitely worth seeing. While he's no Michael Caine (The Muppet Christmas Carol is my vote for all-time best), Jim Carrey makes a pretty good Scrooge and the motion capture animation is both eye-catching and effective. Unfortunately, the 3D manages to disrupt my viewing of the movie even though I didn't see it in 3D. This is because rather than making a good movie and enhancing certain visual elements with 3D effects, director Robert Zemeckis goes out of his way to include cheap 3D tricks that are sometimes laughable and always unnecessary.

Does anyone remember the chapter in Dickens' immortal classic where Ebenezer Scrooge is being chased by a ghostly horse-drawn carriage, shrinks down to the size of a mouse and runs around the streets of London screaming? Me neither. In fact, it seems like Scrooge spends half the movie flying through the air. Now I'm all for artistic interpretation, but not when it's done solely so I can have 3D icicles flying in my face.

When a movie is crafted so specifically to be viewed in 3D that some scenes look ridiculous in 2D, that's a clear sign that you're serving the wrong master. Nevertheless, it is a decent Christmas movie and will get you in the holiday spirit, despite any three-dimensional shortcomings.

And at least Vince Vaughn isn't involved. After Fred Claus and Four Christmases, the biggest item on my Christmas wish list is a moratorium on his involvement in future Christmas flicks.

Christmastime Means Time to Blog

noreply@blogger.com (mindovermatt) — Fri, 27 Nov 2009 08:04:00 +0000

Once a year, my blog finds a niche.

From Thanksgiving to about January 2, my attention turns squarely to the most wonderful time of the year and all the societal, cultural, spiritual, musical (and other adjectives ending in -al) aspects of the Christmas season. This renewed focus also usually leads to a more prolific period of blogging, so hopefully my prolonged absence hasn't squandered what little audience I had.

To kick things off, I want to start by examining a new musical release for the 2009 holiday season. I don't necessarily consider myself an expert on too many subjects, but Christmas music is one arena where I really know my stuff. My family has amassed a vast and eclectic collection of Yuletide tunes over the years, and I'm always looking for new music to add to the library.

The new Christmas music train pulled out of the station a tad early this year when Bob Dylan dropped his uncharacteristic album, Christmas in the Heart, a few weeks before Thanksgiving. I haven't heard all the tracks yet, but I highly recommend this scathing review that not only hilariously pans the album but also questions the popular assumption that Dylan is a musical genius.

For your viewing pleasure, please check out the music video of his take on "Must Be Santa" (a classic kids carol that was definitively recorded by Mitch Miller & The Gang way back in the day). Dylan's interpretation is laughable, as he sings/shouts the lyrics backed by a polka-sounding melody. The "plot" of the video is off-the-wall and Dylan's appearance is more than slightly disturbing. Is that hair connected to his hat?

Maybe that's just what musical genius looks like these days.

Hopefully my next post will actually get you in the mood for the holidays without making you shake your head in disbelief at what has become of a folk music icon. Until then, peruse my Christmas content from the past two years.

Ode to the Beatles

noreply@blogger.com (mindovermatt) — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 23:21:00 +0000

Like legions of Beatlemaniacs before me, I grew up on a steady diet of the Fab Four and there was no denying their ubiquity or their ability to write an infectiously catchy song.

Unlike the rest of the world, my introduction to the Beatles came via Alvin, Simon and Theodore. As a very young child, I received a combination cassette and record player for Christmas. The record player was the obvious winner in terms of fun, and my parents had graciously handed down a few of their favorite childhood albums. Mixed in among them was a particularly intriguing record entitled "Alvin and the Chipmunks Sing the Beatles Hits."

This was at the height of the 1980s Chipmunks Resurrection (Remember The Chipmunk Adventure? That's another blog post for another time...) and here I was unknowingly listening to a genuine Chipmunks artifact that had been released in 1964. All chipmunks aside, the songs they were singing were fantastic and already somewhat familiar to me from listening to the local oldies station. To this day, I can't hear the majority of those early Beatles songs (P.S. I Love You, Love Me Do, Do You Want To Know A Secret, etc.) without hearing the Chipmunks' version in my head.

Having only heard the Beatles catalog that the Chipmunks covered or the radio acknowledged, however, I didn't become a true Beatles fan until one fine summer in the middle of high school. I noticed my local library's extensive Beatles collection and decided to see if there were any other good Beatles songs that I hadn't heard before. Needless to say, there were a few. A few dozen, in fact.

I've spent most of the day with the Beatles in the background, pondering how a band could be so fantastically productive in such a short period of time. Without waxing too poetic, it seems like they have an appropriate song for nearly every emotion and every time of life. It's not just that you can find a happy Beatles song or a sad Beatles song. You can actually find a Beatles song that expresses the exact kind of happy or sad that you happen to be feeling at the time. I can't think of another musical group that even approaches that level of songwriting.

On a day like today, it's got to feel pretty good to be an ex-Beatle. The world is in awe of something you did more than 40 years ago and your creative contributions to culture are still affecting people on a daily basis. With the release of Beatles Rock Band and the remastered Beatles albums , all those never-played-on-the-radio musical gems are going to be revealed to a whole new generation of casual Beatles fans. Heck, I'm still discovering "new" Beatles songs that hadn't struck me before.

At a time when our country and our world are increasingly divided, it's encouraging to see that the Beatles haven't lost their ability to let us Come Together, at least for a day.

Potentially Related Posts:
How Rock Band Changed My Life
The Concert of a Lifetime

Newsflash: Tweets Are Pointless!

noreply@blogger.com (mindovermatt) — Wed, 12 Aug 2009 23:40:00 +0000

This just in! According to a recent analysis, 40.55 percent of the tweets flooding into the Twitterverse can be classified as "pointless babble."

Those of you who have not yet hopped on the Twitter bandwagon should probably consider that before signing up. As an avid Twerp (or whatever the singular form of "Tweeple" is), I can substantiate the above statistic. In fact, I probably contribute to it more often than not.

Unfortunately, the study didn't delve into why so many tweets are riveting and timely observations such as "I'm eating a sandwich," "It's so hoooooottttt outside," and "I really didn't want to wake up this morning. Le sigh."

Fortunately, I have the answer: There simply isn't enough of you to go around.

You're not that interesting. Neither am I. And the pressure to craft engaging blog posts, G-chat statuses, Facebook statuses, and Twitter statuses only reinforces that fact. Sure, we care about what we're having for lunch, but no one else really does, at least not all the time and via six different social network notifications.

But still, we soldier forward, self-publishing our comings, goings and clever bon mots to our world of online "followers," "friends" and "buddies." Do they care? I guess it doesn't really matter. The life of these status updates is almost non-existent anyway, with Twitter and Facebook feeds taking their cue from the weather in Chicago: Don't like what you see? Just wait five minutes.

The real question is, why are we spending so much time on other people's so-called pointless babble? If you're reading this right now, I guess you don't have the answer, either...

Just so this post doesn't seem completely negative, I'll close with a sweet little video that is social networking-related, but doesn't have much to do with the above discussion. It does contain a ukulele though, and that's reason enough for you to watch it. Fair warning: The song will get rather lodged in your head.

Stephen Colbert Considers Qatar

noreply@blogger.com (mindovermatt) — Fri, 24 Apr 2009 14:46:00 +0000

Many thanks to Xtine for alerting me to this little gem from The Colbert Report. Looks like Mr. Colbert is considering a trip to Qatar. Maybe he should read my blog...

The Colbert Report

Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c

Where and When Is Stephen Going to the Persian Gulf? - Qatar

colbertnation.com

Colbert Report Full Episodes

Political Humor

Gay Marriage Commercial

J-School Envy

noreply@blogger.com (mindovermatt) — Fri, 10 Apr 2009 17:36:00 +0000

If any fellow journalists/Medill alumni are reading this blog, you should check out a video on Apple's Web site that shows the new journalism school building at Arizona State University. I had no idea ASU was even on the j-school map, but the facility is incredible and it looks like they really know what they're doing in terms of training the Journalists of the Future.

The video goes a little overboard on the "Macs are AMAZING!" message (it's a commercial, after all), but it's evident that ASU has taken a smart approach to teaching the multimedia aspects of journalism that a lot of other j-schools have publicly struggled with.

At this point in time, journalists need to be self-sufficient jacks-and-jills-of-all-trades. The point is, you can't just write. You can't just shoot and edit video. You have to be able to create quality content for multiple platforms or you're going to be unemployed. (Actually, each passing week seems to bring another sad obituary of another daily newspaper, so chances are you won't be employed as a traditional journalist anyway.)

I think the caveat of creating "quality" content is where much of the tech-focused journalistic training falls apart. Giving someone six different colors to paint with and not telling them which colors go together or when to use blue and when to use orange can make for a lot of ugly art. So to for multimedia news coverage. All the fancy Macs in the world won't help you become a better journalist unless that technology is paired with training in the fundamentals of reporting.

Despite my training as a print journalist, my platform these days is almost completely multimedia--audio, video and slide shows. Sure, the fact that I could teach myself how to use Final Cut Pro was a great help in making the leap from written words to video frames. And, yes, the medium is different, but the skills and elements needed to turn a blank Final Cut Pro timeline into a finished video are eerily similar to what it takes to turn a blank word Document into a publishable text story. Good reporting matters.

OK, I'll get off my soap box now. As long as we're talking about text vs. video, check out my latest effort. For this one, I had so much good stuff that I made a video and wrote a story to go along with it. Incidentally, the subjects of the profile--Michael Mahler and Alan Schmuckler--are definitely going places. I can't wait to say "I knew them when..."

Stephen Colbert: Dancing Catholic

noreply@blogger.com (mindovermatt) — Wed, 08 Apr 2009 05:02:00 +0000

I don't want this blog to devolve into my posting of videos and commenting on them, but when you find something like this, you just have to share it.

Start your Holy Week the right way--with a video of Stephen Colbert singing and dancing inanely to the old Catholic standard, "The King of Glory." This gives whole new meaning to the idea of liturgical dance. Take it away, Stephen...

I don't know where this clip came from or what it could possibly be about, but I guess it isn't new. Here's a blog post from 2007 that references the clip. Does anyone know if this was on The Colbert Report at some point?

Not that it really matters. Happy Holy Week!