“Dylan is so unknown in China that one newspaper, the Shanghai-based Xinmin Evening News, ran a story about his upcoming concerts alongside a big photograph of country music star Willie Nelson”.
(via the Los Angeles Times)
R.H.H. Hugman, the architect of the San Antonio Riverwalk, opened an office here at 425 East Commerce Street in 1941 (at river level). The river was prone to flood so people thought he was nuts. He was. Any sane person would’ve opened a restaurant.
When I got my first iPhone hardly anybody had them. Almost overnight, EVERYBODY had them. Even people who I would have never dreamed to be the type to show interest in what was essentially a handheld computer suddenly had an iPhone. With previous phones I probably would have begun the search for the next new thing. Admit it, by the time everyone was using a star-tac, or razr, you didn’t want it anymore. Right? Not so with the iPhone. Immediately it was apparent that this was something completely different. But that’s not what this post is about.
As I said, suddenly nearly everyone I knew, and seemingly most I came in contact with, were using iPhones. Specifically, of course, AT&T iPhones. The result of this phenomenon was that I was racking up rollover minutes at a rapid clip. Since calls to, or from, other AT&T devices didn’t count towards the allowed minutes of my plan I soon had thousands of rollover minutes.
So, what I did was call AT&T and ask them if I could change my plan to the least expensive one they had (450 mins.) and still keep all of my rollover minutes. Amazingly, they said yes. I wasn’t worried about the reduction in minutes because I had amassed enough rollover minutes to cover me for a full year, at which time all of my rollover minutes would have expired. I figured, if necessary, I would then restore my plan to one with more minutes.
But it never happened. So many people were using iPhones by the end of that year that I was still continuing to accumulate rollover minutes. I was practically using my phone for free. What a life! At least until this Verizon thing came along.
So here is my plea:
Dear fellow iPhone users,
Don’t change to Verizon! We’ve got it made as things are. If Verizon is successful, what’s next? T-Mobile? We’ll be screwed. This little bit of exclusivity we’ve enjoyed will be gone forever. I had a Verizon phone for many years before my iPhone. All the way back to when it was called PrimeCo. Honestly, it wasn’t any better. Actually, their customer service was a little worse. In my experience, it’s mostly a myth that AT&T is such a bad carrier. A myth perpetrated by those with nothing better to do than lament their supposed handicap at being tied to a single carrier. The grass is always greener, isn’t it? Trust me, these are the same people who will be whining about switching back to AT&T once they discover that they can’t surf the internet without a wi-fi connection while on a phone call with their new Verizon iPhone. It’s always gonna be something. Meanwhile, both of these carriers will be getting rich off early cancellation fees. Everybody wins but us.
Think about it. We’ve really had it pretty good.
Now that we’ve rid Huck Finn of the N-word, might I say that I am equally offended by Shakespeare’s repeated use of the “thou” word.
Vince Lombardi
-Ahhh… the perfect enabler.
What’s the big deal? I’ll bet this happens all the time.
Planning to either lay siege to your city or have a nap. Can’t decide.
Halloween Costume Idea: “The Parents of Miley Cyrus”
I can remember when I was a kid seeing these neon signs everywhere. It was a time when chinese food was synonymous with chop suey, long before Kung Pao Chicken ruled the day. In hindsight, I think that I was so completely disgusted by this strange concoction that the bright neon signs set off alarm bells that burned themselves into my subconscious (I still can’t stand Soy Sauce which was used gratuitously, I assume, to make this dish somewhat palatable). Today, sadly, the signs are all but gone. Supposedly, this is one of the last remaining in the world and can be admired at the Far East Chop Suey restaurant in Little Tokyo, Los Angeles, California.
It was thirty seven years ago yesterday, on September 19th, 1973, that Gram Parsons passed from the life of “country rock troubadour” to the realms of urban myth and legend. I probably shouldn’t use the term “country rock” because Gram disliked it. I use it only because it’s more recognizable to more people. Gram actually preferred the self-penned label “Cosmic American Music” which, unfortunately, isn’t so recognizable.
If you’ve read the books or seen the movies then you know that the mysterious circumstances surrounding Gram’s death, and the bizarre events that followed, are the stuff of rock and roll legend. Unfortunately his outlandish death has superseded his remarkable life and as result his music has been smothered under layers of hyperbole and gossip. Maybe Gram would have wanted it that way. Maybe he would have wanted his music to be a little less accessible and make people try a little harder to get to it. Well, if he did, he succeeded. It has been my experience that, outside of the music community (who primarily worship him), most people have never even heard of him. And that’s a shame. Because Gram was cool, and immensely talented, and even if his own life was immeasurably flawed his words and music were mostly golden.
Thirty seven years ago yesterday Gram Parsons died in a motel room in Joshua Tree, California. Fittingly, it was one of his favorite places in the entire world. Maybe his most favorite. He was only 27 years old.
