Why I don't drink Diet Coke in Japan

Alternate titles:

• Coked up SJP
• New Taste! More SJP in every drop!
• Sex and the Aluminum Cylinder
• Sucking on SJP in Japan
• I don't know why people think Diet Coke is a chick soda
• Diet Coke Fail
  

Extra credit: Guess which of the alternate titles will result in the most erroneous hits from Google searches.

Opryland v. Las Vegas

In a previous post, I made a statement that could be seen as disparaging to Nashville in general and the Opryland Hotel in specific. I have now spent several days at the Opryland. Below is a scientific comparison showing the benefits of each location, provided for your use in determining where to celebrate your second wedding.

Advantage Vegas is indicated via the Elvis icon.
Advantage Opryland is indicated via the Johnny Cash icon.

Vegas	Opryland	Advantage
Large, complicated hotel layout that requires a map to find your way from your room to the lobby.	Check.	Neither
Scads of scantily-clad women running around ignoring the conventioneers.	Check, but that may have been due to the Victoria’s Secret convention being held in the hall one level up.	Neither
Obsequious and helpful employees obviously working on a larger tip.	Same, but more subtle. Score one for southern hospitality.
The slim chance of winning a few dollars at the ubiquitous casinos.	No gambling. This is the Bible belt.
The enormous chance of losing many dollars at the ubiquitous casinos.	No gambling. This is the Bible belt.
Tourists in sequins going out for the evening.	Tourists in sequins and boots going out for the evening.	Let's call that a draw.
Poor television choices – they want you in the casinos.	Adequate television choices, but all of the country music stations are at the top of the dial.
Incredibly expensive room rates and punitive tax adders.	Incredibly expensive room rates and punitive tax adders.	Everyone but the tourists.
Numerous shops inside the hotel complex selling high end items that you can’t afford.	Numerous shops inside the hotel complex selling everything from high-end to junk touristy tchotchkes for the kids.	Singles and DINKs Me
Very fancy and overpriced restaurants throughout the complex.	Not fancy but still overpriced restaurants throughout the complex.
No way to see the outside world so you completely lose track of the time of day.	The occasional window to the outside world.
Pulsating screens advertising night clubs for people much younger and more attractive than you.	Pulsating screens advertising one night club for people much younger and more attractive than you.	(People younger than me and voyeurs.)
Walking on the strip is its own entertainment.	They closed the Opryland Theme Park next door, but the mall is interesting.
Have to fly and take a cab to get to a Vegas hotel.	Within driving distance of my house.

The Funniest Sketch Ever on Television

Ladies and Gentlemen, lest we forget the genius that was the cast of the Carol Burnett show.



I remember seeing this sketch outtake on a "Best of ..." episode of the show as a child. I nearly passed out, laughing so hard, unable to breathe.

Some days we just need a laugh more than others.

Minnesotans for Global Warming

It's a cause we can all get behind, don't you agree?

Fat Tuesday

• Pizza fat - now you can track your Domino's pizza on-line.
• Car fat - run a car on chocolate
• Fat school - get your A-levels courtesy of McDonald's
• Fun with fat - the food launcher
• Fat medicine - we'd prefer it if you'd die sooner
• Fat crime - "He didn't bring the salami with him -- it was just lying around in the office"
• Big fat failure - the blog that makes you feel good about yourself
• Fat seals - make yummy treats for flying sharks
• 80s fat - Weird Al
• Geek fat - what is a FAT?
• NAFTA fat - amazing what a difference one A makes
• Famous Fat - "Curse of the Golden Flower" is one of the best ... films ... ever
• Fat sign of the apocalypse - why, why, why, why?!!
• Fat music - the best song ever to glorify fat
• Fat chance - a great name for a belly dancing troupe
• Fat witch - not recommended as a Valentine's gift for your wife
• Fat pipes - a high fiber diet is recommended
  
• Fat cats - the one fat list you should aspire to
  

Stress Test

The following was sent via email (it is not an original creation). I am not sure exactly how it works, but this is amazingly accurate. Read the full description before looking at the picture.

The picture below has 2 identical dolphins in it. It was used in a case study on stress levels at St. Mary's Hospital. Look at both dolphins jumping out of the water. The dolphins are identical. A closely monitored, scientific study revealed that , in spite of the fact that the dolphins are identical , a person under stress would find differences in the two dolphins .

The more differences a person finds between the dolphins, the more stress that person is experiencing.

Look at the photograph and if you find more than one or two differences you may want to take a vacation.




Click here to reveal the image of the two dolphins.

I married a girl from Tennessee

From: me
To: her
Subject: Meal idea

---

From: her
To: me
Subject: Re: Meal idea

disgusting! reminds me of home ec at my high school. we really did cook a rattlesnake.

---

From: me
To: her
Subject: Re: Meal idea

After 13 years, I’m still discovering things about you.

---

From: her
To: me
Subject: Re: Meal idea

it tasted like chicken.

My little Ford rocket ship

Take a look at that max speed. I had no idea. The speedometer only goes to 1000.

Oh God, I'm old

What some of you youngsters (e.g. teenagers) out there may not realize is that those of us older than you (30s, 40s, etc.) still mostly think of ourselves as just out of the teenage years. Sure, we realize that it was a long time ago. We know that we are now productive members of society. We don't long to go back to the time of weekly history tests and overwhelming social pressures. We look down on today's crop of teens as woefully young and naive.

But somewhere in the back of our minds lurks that teenager who refuses to grow old. Want proof? Just pull out one of our yearbooks and watch us be transported back. We may not be able to remember what you told us yesterday, but you'll be amazed at the trivial facts we recall from the mid 1980s. Members Only jackets and "The Breakfast Club" and Bono with a last name.

And it's not just us Gen-X types. My mother assures me that in the back of her mind it's still the 1940s and she still vividly remembers poodle skirts and soda fountains.

Then, every once in a while, someone or something comes along to blast us our of our reverie and bring home the fact that - to today's teens - we are old fogeys. Case in point, the article posted here, titled Ick, old married guys on Facebook that includes the following statement emphasized in a sidebar:

Three guesses as to which year I graduated from High School.

I'm going to go buy some sansabelt slacks and take a nap now. Wake me when it's time for my stories.

Well-conditioned for NXTComm

It's the first day of NXTComm here in Chicago, and I have interviews scheduled all day long. Seriously, I'll be talking to someone different nearly every half hour. The first one is going to be videotaped, played on show TV and archived on the web.

Thanks to travel restrictions, I no longer bring shampoo with me. I rely on the little shampoos in the hotels. Sure, it can be dicey, but the Mariott properties have generally good quality stuff and I have a generally small amount of hair to screw up anyway.

So this morning I get up early to prepare, step into the shower, and reach down to discover ... two bottles of conditioner and none of shampoo. Hmmmm. I don't think conditioner cleans very well.

For some reason, I recalled an Andy Rooney bit about how he never uses shampoo - he just rubs soap on his head a few times a week. I think I remembered that bit because it was the first time that I realized that Andy wasn't necessarily wise and knowledgeable in all areas equally.

However, his advice did come in useful this time. And I followed with two bottles of conditioner.

If you happen to run into me at NXTComm and/or watch my interview from this morning, please excuse my well-conditioned appearance.

The Trouble with Pliers

This email was sent by a nameless colleague earlier this year (long enough ago for the wound to have healed) and left me rolling on the floor laughing. Merry Christmas!

sorry for my lack of response to your phone call. I've been completely out of it for the past few days. I had a bit of an accident that is not life threatening or anything, but rendered me completely incapacitated for a few days.

It's a long story, but the short version is that I had a needle nose pliers rammed extremely forcibly up my nose. Punched a hole through the middle of my nose from one nostril to the other about and inch and a half inside my nose. Hurt like a bitch.

actually, what the hell, it is embarrassing, but here's the email i sent to my boss letting him know I wasn't coming into work the next day... DON'T spread this around. I'm embarrassed as s*** about it.

****************************************************

So I was doing the brakes on [name withheld]'s vehicle last night. It was about midnight and I was almost done... just finishing up the shoes on the back.

If you've ever done drum brakes, you'll know that it works best with a brake spring tool, but almost no one has this special tool, and everyone just uses a pair of pliers to take the springs off and to put them back on. I've got a really great pair of needle nose pliers that are very skinny and pointy, but strong. They work great for the tough springs on brakes.

So I'm almost finished and I've just got the last spring to put on. I'm stretching it but it's tough and I can't really see the hole that I'm trying to hook it into. I'm on my knees and I've got both hands on the pliers putting as much force as possible on that damn spring. In order to get a better look at the hole that it needs to hook into, I stick my head down under the wheel well and watch very closely as the spring lets go and my pliers slip off and I jab the needle nose pliers extremely forcibly up my right nostril about 3 cm.

Blood immediately begins to pour in a steady stream onto the shop floor and all over my hands. The needle nose pliers are stuck up my nose. Blood is pouring out of BOTH nostrils for some reason. I'm spitting blood. I jerk the pliers out of my nose. Ouch. That hurts. Now there's more blood. I think I've lost almost a litre already. I run to the house, pouring blood along the way and yell at [name withheld] from the back door. She jumps out of bed and comes running, only to start screaming and crying and telling me she loves me because she thinks I'm going to die. Should she call 911? No, just get a few cold wet towels and some ice. I'm not going to the hospital!

I cut a tampon in half with my leatherman and stick it up my nose. I'm bleeding like hell but I go finish the brakes just because I'm so f***ing pissed at them and there is no way they are going to get away without being finished. And I am NOT going to the hospital.

At the emergency room they can't seem to stop the bleeding, but they determine that i've jabbed a hole from my right nostril clear through the middle wall of my nose to the left nostril. They fill my nose with some kind of powder that is supposed to be a wonder clotting agent. After a couple of hours they give me a truck load of swabbing and send me home, telling me that if the bleeding doesn't stop in four hours to come back.

At the emergency room for the second time the decide they need to cauterize the wound. Ouch. That hurts. Now I whistle when I breathe.

*************************************************************

For the past couple of days I've had a bitchin' headache, but i'm doing better now.

• humor

A manly man with a keen sense of direction

(Post never properly formatted due to other pressures. Please ignore the mess.)

Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum in the Venetian Resort and Casino, Las Vegas is an impressive display of artistry. One feels oddly self-conscious looking into the eyes of the very realistic figures. For Halloween this year, they have put their prodigious skills into creating a House of Horrors. For reasons that only my therapist could explain, I decided to visit said House to see what lurked inside. While I did not, as expected, scream like a little girl, the experience still did little to enhance my masculinity in the eyes of those around me.

When entering the House, a group of visitors is led into a small room for the introduction to the “school tour”. At the end of the introduction, the “tour guide” opens a door leading to the rest of the tour and suggests that a “gentleman” lead the group. Through a random fluke and my not paying attention to my surroundings I ended up next to the newly opened door, surrounded by 5-foot-tall Eastern European women who spoke no English. My work colleague was on the other side of the room and was certainly not going to volunteer to cross through the crowd to lead the tour. So, lucky me, I ended up as the leader of our little group.

The tour guide had everyone place their hands on the shoulder of the person in front of them. Ostensibly this was so that no one would get lost. I soon discovered that this was primarily to keep the leader from catching up to the very fast-moving tour guide who quickly disappeared around a corner and was not seen again. That left yours truly responsible for creeping around corners and leading our little band.

Something to keep in mind is that I have never been a fan of haunted houses or scary movies. My imagination is a bit too vivid for such things and they end up getting under my skin. So my biggest fear as I pushed through curtains and past television screens with visions of Freddy Kruger was that I would encounter something so startling that I would scream like a woman and injure the tiny women behind me in a mad scramble to escape. With this fear forefront in my mind, I held my hands in front of me, squeezing a rubber ball that I had somewhere acquired, and carefully plodding deliberately through the pitch black maze.

Around one corner were figures of a machete-wielding Jason and his victim. The Jason figure turned out to be a real person, and came to life moving towards us. However, rather than being scared, I was more concerned where I was supposed to turn to lead our group around him. While considering this, the Jason figure retreated. I congratulated myself on being too distracted to remember to be scared and on remaining composed enough to keep from tearing out the arms of the women who were, by now, gripping my shoulder strong enough to leave tiny purple marks behind.

As I turned the next corner, I was presented with a choice of hallways. One appeared blocked by some plastic sheeting, the other went straight ahead and I could see an “EXIT” sign in the distance. Thinking quickly, I took the straighter of the two hallways. I imagined that either the EXIT sign was part of the show (since this was supposed to be a school) or perhaps there was another turn just before the door. When I reached the doorway, there was no other way to return and, as I had a long line of shuffling women behind me, I pushed through the door and into … the well-lit main part of the museum.

And everyone in the group followed me out.

My colleague, who had bravely taken up the very rear of the group, and I commiserated on how short the House of Horrors was and how it really hadn’t been that scary. We laughed off the idea that we’d been fearful about entering and went back to the private party room in the back of the museum where our event was being held.

As I passed into the room, I paused for a moment to recount our experience to one of the employees of the Museum. I told her how I hadn’t found the experience all that frightening and was surprised how short the tour had been. She informed me that the EXIT that I had taken was put there for people who were so terrified that they had to leave the tour.

We had missed over two-thirds of the tour by my taking a wrong turn. The razzing about my having taken the “wuss exit” began nearly instantaneously.

After consideration, my colleague and I decided that this made for a better story anyway, and there really was no reason to go back through the house again.
That's our story, and we're sticking to it.

An open invitation for the writers of "Vanished" to actually visit Atlanta

, the latest television program to try to emulate the "Lost" hysteria (slowly revealed mystery, strange symbols, conspiracies, attactive folks in tiny clothes, etc.) is based in my hometown of Atlanta. Or at least some West-coast writers' version of Atlanta.

Folks here in Atlanta are pretty excited that our fair city is featured. Honestly, we're a bit tired of being only associated with "Gone with the Wind", "Sharkey's Marchine", and "The Dukes of Hazzard" (although that scene where Burt Reynolds throws the guy out of the Peachtree in "Sharkey's" is pretty cool).

Spike Lee did a pretty good job for a while of portraying Atlanta in a more modern light, but then he moved to New York and started supporting the Knicks. Tyler Perry shows Atlanta off pretty well, but white folks just don't flock to his movies in the numbers that they should. And no one's addressing the couch-potato audience very well.

So it was with great anticipation that I - and other Atlantans - tuned in to "Vanished", a sleek little number that started well with lots of images of the skyline and some iconic Atlanta buildings. There was even a car chase in front of the Georgia World Congress Center downtown. Then the little, minor errors started showing up, and it became painfully obvious that the writers have not actually ever been to Atlanta.

• Chamblee, a suburb of Atlanta is pronounced "Sham - blee", not "Shum - blay". It's not a wine from an obscure Napa vineyard. It's a southern city.
• Buckhead is a section of Atlanta, not a separate city. So no one would ever say that they were reporting from "Buckhead, Georgia". That would be like reporting from "Stockyards, Illinois" or "East Village, New York" (if they hadn't named that city and state the same thing just to bollocks up my example). Ironically, there actually is a "Buckhead, Georgia", but it's not all that close to Atlanta.

• Although I know that you California types like to put the word "the" in front of your interstates and highways (I was on "the 101" this morning for 2 hours), we don't do that in the south. So a suspect about to drive onto Interstate 20 in the middle of Atlanta would not be "getting onto the 20". He would be "getting onto I-20".
• I will give some props to the writers for not falling into sterotypes, but couldn't at least one character have a subtle southern accent? It's true that the majority of folks in Atlanta don't talk like Cletus, but this is the south. There are some very beautiful accents floating around. However, the first character that shows up with a deep southern accent and is either (1) a sterotypical doofus or (2) Matlock will be the last character I watch on this program or any other program on this network.
• In episode 3, the Senator is forced to drop off $5million in the middle of a crowded plaza. The problem is, that plaza doesn't exist. I can understand that the writers couldn't find exactly what they wanted - a plaza with restaurants, a fountain, a manhole, media nearby, and a glass elevator, but how hard would it have been to write something similar with, say, the fountains in Olympic Park, CNN tower next door, and the glass elevator on the Westin Peachtree tower? Come on, try a little bit folks.
  
  
• And I hate to bring it up, but where are all of the people of color in this show? Have you ever been to Atlanta? At least some of the police officers, city officials, hotel workers, news reporters, random people on the street should be black folks. "Vanished" has one guy - the Senator's aide. Surely there are some actors with darker complexions that could clear their schedules for a weekly drama.

So, on behalf of the people of Atlanta, I would like to invite the writers of "Vanished" to visit the city - at least once. You might find enough interesting about Atlanta that you don't need to invent a fictional Atlanta from scratch.

• creations
• humor

Now is the time on the blog when we play "Screwin' with the Googlebot"

• Hillary Clinton
• Agent Bedhead
• Hannity
• Lindsey Lohan
• NASCAR
• New York Mets
• Paris Hilton
• Spongebob
• Huffington
• Bananas
• Wilkinson

• creations
• humor

This Blog Can be Bought

In light of recent revelations that Bloggers and "journalists" have been paid to tout products or ideas, I would like to make it perfectly clear that this blog can be bought for the right price.

Please see price list below.

Endorsement of political candidate of your choice Price is per post	Presidential (Republican): 1 night in the Lincoln bedroom, left metatarsal from Lincoln corpse Presidential (Libertarian): 2-for-1 dinner coupon at Denny's Presidential (Democrat): not applicable (only viable candidates endorsed) Governor (Georgia): Let's just forget about those speeding tickets, shall we? Governor (other): $50 per consonant, $25 per vowel, $10 discount if candidate is a member of a recognized minority (e.g. Republican in Vermont) School Board (Cobb County): 2000 copies of "On the Origin of Species" to be donated to local church libraries
Ebullient endorsement of the Discovery family of television networks minimum 1 post maximum 5 posts guaranteed use of the words "enchanting", "must see", "intelligent", and or "Lindsey Lohan*" in each post *included for search engine optimization	1 weekend shopping in New York City with the wife, supervised by Stacy and Clinton
Flattering review of a VoIP service and/or VoIP equipment 1 to 10 flattering post comments guaranteed Disparaging comments disabled for the duration of the contract* *comments may be stored for later use and/or repurposed as comments on other topics	All equipment provided free of charge (for "imparital" evaluation) 1000 hours of free calling on said equipment (see "impartial" above) Direct line to Vice President of customer care for technical problem resolution (must be real VP, not made up and outsourced VP)
Flattering review of TiVO service and/or equipment	180-hour, dual tuner, Series 2 or later TiVo with built in DVD burner and integrated wireless support Lifetime programming support for said TiVO
Overt support for the homosexual agenda Discount if only tacit support is requested	Tickets for four to "The Drowsy Chaperone", orchestra center, Saturday evening performance and dinner party afterwards with the cast One BowFlex Xtreme 2 Home Gym, delivered and installed
Overt support for the radical right agenda	$2500 shopping spree at Wal-Mart (must include guns-n-ammo section) One BowFlex Xtreme 2 Home Gym, delivered and installed
Endorsement of Delta Airlines	Complimentary and guaranteed upgrade to business class on all flights to and from Japan Failing the above, hourly personal massages from flight attendant Koko and a guarantee of an empty adjoining middle seat Failing the above, just try not to injure me or lose my luggage this time, please ....

• creations
• humor

Al Gore owes me 2Gs

One of the benefits of living in the warm, humid armpit that is Atlanta in July is the frequent, hair-raising thunderstorms. For those in underadvantaged areas of the country or outside world, these can be mighty interesting and can produce wildly unpredictable changes in ones in-home infrastructure.

Last Tuesday evening, a relatively minor but incredibly accurate thunderstorm popped up over my neighborhood, awoke some peacefully sleeping children, sent some local dogs into a frenzy, and electrocuted some innocent home electronics. Among the victims was my upstairs air conditioner.

If you have the option of losing any one of your A/C units in the midst of a nationwide heatwave, I highly suggest that you opt for the one located closer to sea level (unless you live in New Orleans and sea level is somewhere above your roofline). Heat tends to rise, and our upstairs living area - complete with all bedrooms - was a sultry 88 degrees in short order.

To make a terribly long and painfully sad story short, we were forced to purchase a new blower - which is part of the heating system, ironically - in order to return our home to livable and less intensely sweaty conditions. Yes, we bought a new furnace in July. Such are the complications of life.

We were offered two options for new furnaces - the less expensive yet perfectly fine option or the more expensive and environmentally friendly version. The latter includes such options as variable blowers and free-range chloroflorocarbons or some such, and is promised to pay for itself in about 3 years. I suppose it pays for itself by doing odd jobs in the neighborhood, but I didn't ask.

We don't plan to be in this house for three years. In fact, we've already passed our previous record for habitating in a single locale. The only reason that we haven't moved yet is because we're being picky about the next home we inhabit. (My suspicion is that the house gods will only allow us to move once we have spent a minimum amount on non-recoverable home improvements.) Therefore, economically we should choose the less expensive, glacier-melting version of furnace.

And here's where Al and his minions enter the picture. My spouse and I are healthy skeptics as to whether or not humans are causing the global temperature to rise. In general, we scoff at the Gore myrmidon army. However, that doesn't mean that we don't believe that saving energy and reducing pollution are necessarily bad things.

We bought the eco-friendly furnace. Two, actually.

The cost difference between the ozone-spewing version and the eco-friendly version was about $2Gs. I am expecting my check from the environmental movement any day now. Please contact me for the mailing address at your earliest convenience.

• creations
• humor

A Humble Suggestion for the Legal Team at Rogers Communications

This is a very interesting and quite helpful book. For $2.13million, you can buy roughly 160,000 copies (plus shipping).

See "Where did that come from" below for more details.

• telecommunications
• distractions
• humor

Subtle Marine Humor

I find myself strangely attracted to this helicopter, and I'm not sure why...

• humor

Chick-fil-A is trying to kill me

When I was but a wee lad working my first real job at the Docktor Pet Store in Crabtree Valley Mall, the next store over was a Chick-fil-A.

I would regularly spend more at the restaurant in a 30 minute lunch break than I made in an hour hawking puppies and gerbils. But that was at a time when my metabolism could handle a fried sandwich every day without unwanted side effects.

As I grew older and wider, I managed to avoid the Chick-fil-A menace by avoiding malls. This was not difficult because (1) I'm not all that into shopping among crowds of mallrats and (2) I am no longer a teenager and therefore do not see a mall as a legitimate weekend destination.

And then the extra-mall Chick-fil-As began to show up and becon with their promise of greasy, secret-spicy goodness. And they built a store next to my place of employ. And my waist began to suffer again.

Armed with fierce determination, I eventually weaned myself off of the fried and onto the grilled, and eventually away from the Chick-fil-A menace altogether. Then they started putting in playgrounds and so enlisted my offspring in the assault.

Today, I may have to concede defeat. The Chick-fil-A menace has now added ... milkshakes. Very creamy milkshakes. Cookies and cream milkshakes. Nigh unto irresistable milkshakes. Ahhhhh .... milkshakes.

I will be traveling to Japan next week in a vain attempt to avoid the horror and regain control of my waistline.

Filed in:

• creations
• humor

Telecomm Detritus

Sorry, just too busy to blog these days. Here's a post from another, defunct blog-from-the-past for your retro enjoyment.

Telecomm Detritus

The most satisfying part of travelling for any trade show attendee is coming home and sifting through the piles of free giveaways accumulated on the trip. From suit pockets, carry-on bags, and overstuffed luggage compartments come a variety of items that no one would ever actually purchase, but which inexplicably gain value when given away at no cost. These items rarely last very long, as they are quickly broken by over-zealous offspring or surreptitiously discarded by clutter-overloaded spouses (spice?).

We, however, have an inner packrat (albeit without the unattractive overbite) and an outer office or two piled high with the detritus of trade shows past. Searching through the voluminous archives of free giveaways here at Telecommedy Central can be a cathartic and occasionally maudlin experience. We're always running across a relic from some bygone company of the Telecomm boom, now remembered only for the free T-shirt or battery-powered tchotchke.

(Click on the photos for a larger, but otherwise no better, photograph.)

First, the pens

The cheapest of all giveaways, the last resort of the small company that blew their budget on that fancy two-level booth with professional representatives, and the only remaining freebee to survive the bust, the mighty pen is the cockroach of the trade show tchotchke.

The elusive Optical Networks pen, before they changed their name to ONI, made gobs of cash for their founders and certain Williams Network employees, got purchased by Ciena, and faded into obscurity.

The pen's pretty cheap and rather unimpressive. It must have been given out before the windfall allowed them to upgrade to much fancier writing implements.

Callipso. They were all over the press, touting their data solutions for revolutionizing buisiness throughout the world. The gods became angry at them for misspelling the name of their favorite island music. Chapter 11, followed by dismemberment and a ritual burning.

The pen still works, and the snazzy clip is fun to fiddle with during long meetings.



Then the yo-yos

Small toys that can be used to pass the interminable hours on one's feet in a trade show booth are always appreciated. Small bouncy balls are particularly nice. At one trade show, we started a game after hours trying to loft bouncy balls into the Lucent "coffee stain" on a nearly banner (final score Good Guys: 20, Bad Guys: 15, Banner: somewhat less presentable). Although we have quite a few bouncy balls in our collection, none of them are from companies that have disappeared yet (give them time).

The second choice for time-passing amusement is the yo-yo. It takes slightly more skill, rolls away into the neighboring booths less often, and usually breaks within a few hours of being brought home to the offspring. So, the fact that not one but two remain in our collection is worthy of a hearty backslapping (followed by a hearty application of Ben Gay to the awkwardly strained muscles).

Nortel-Bay. Anyone remember Bay anymore?

Nortel bought Bay, an innocent little switch vendor with big aspirations, back in the heyday of telecomm. It was touted as a merger, and the combined company went by the name Nortel-Bay. For about six months. Then the Canadian power structure pulled the old switcheroo and Bay was dropped faster than Priscilla Presley's latest husband (Nicholas Cage?! Michael Jackson?! Even the impersonators are offended.)

This yo-yo is real wood and actually works quite well. It has provided many hours of entertainment and several broken vases of varying color and quality.

Virata made DSL chipsets before DSL chipsets were cool (they aren't anymore, it was a short honeymoon). They made them so well that Globespan bought them and they decided to share names as GlobespanVirata (see Nortel-Bay above) - a truly unwieldy name that, fortunately, was discarded when the whole mess was purchased by Conexant.

This yo-yo is battery powered and lights up when you yo it. Or at least it used to at one point. now it just sits around and leaks vaguely nauseating battery fluid.

T-Shirts: The holy grail

Nothing excites the trade show attendee more than the free t-shirt giveaway. Attendees will map out intricate agendas to ensure that they can maximuze their t-shirt return. Rumors of high quality t-shirts are passed in hushed tones to trusted allies. Presentations of no discernable value to one's business are endured in the hopes of securing a particularly unique t-shirt. At the height of the boom, industrious trade show attendees could clothe themselves for an entire year just in free t-shirts.

Of course, few considered the downside of the t-shirt giveaway. Many fancy three-color silkscreens ended up being primarily displayed over the sweaty and copious abdomens of overweight and unattractive telecomm minions mowing their lawns in the height of summer. Or even less attractive as a marketing goal - many homeless folks in Atlanta (home of Supercomm just after since the Civil War) ended up sporting attractive telecomm-related t-shirts donated by telecomm spouses fed up with the overwhelming proliferation of geekwear.

However, the t-shirt still reigns as the holy grail of trade show freebees. Although their appearance has somewhat slacked off in recent years, the intrepid tradeshow attendee can still score a slightly small, garishly colored, hastily made t-shirt or two and effectively avoid spending money on clothing for just a bit longer. We personally have not paid money for a t-shirt since 1987 (the final Journey tour of any real vaule).

The Netspeed T-shirt - not only dated in that Netspeed was swallowed by the Borg many years ago, but also in its quaint idea that ADSL is the way of the future. We're way past that now - the popular acronym now is ADSL 2. Sometimes with an extra "+" thrown in to show that it's even better.

Still, any t-shirt that can stand up to use for nearly 6 years is worthy of mention. Plus, it has the added benefit of prominent use of acronyms, making the wearer appear to be telecomm savvy to the non-telecomm crowd.


This t-shirt from Triton is especially interesting in that it does not appear to be a telecomm-related t-shirt at first glance. Most casual observers assume that it is a golf-related t-shirt - due primarily to the prominent placement of a golfer on the back. This confusion is helpful when dealing with the common, non-telecomm folk as it makes them more at ease. Golf is something that most people understand, even if some of them believe it to be an environmentally dangerous pastime of the bourgeoisie.

Triton made some sort of chip for telecomm. We're not exactly sure. According to our stock research "since August 20, 2001, the Company's activities have been limited primarily to selling remaining assets; paying creditors; terminating any remaining commercial agreements, relationships and outstanding obligations; continuing to honor certain obligations to customers; and conserving cash". And that doesn't sound like much of a business plan for success.

Unique and unusual

These are the items that were different from the crowd and, on occasion, actually useful beyond the trade show pavillion. We must admire those who strive to stand out from the pack of key rings, pens, and bouncy balls to provide the lowly trade show attendee with something that they can give away to obscure relatives as Christmas gifts.

A tiny, battery-powered microphone from Kestrel Solutions. Perfect for recording rude noises and playing them back at inopportune times, these were quite popular when handed out somewhere around 1999. Also truly unique, as we have never seen this giveaway repeated. Which is odd considering the blinding success of Kestrel.

Kestrel Solutions raised over 300 million dollars in financing and supposedly raffled off a Porsche to their employees before filing for bankruptcy and disappearing into Silicon Valley purgatory. We didn't get a car, but the microphone is nice, although the batteries died a few years ago and we haven't bothered to attempt to figure out how to replace them.

A tiny screwdriver from Cascade. Cascade became Ascend became Lucent. Most telecomm startups are now required to have a former Cascade executive on the board, so you still see the name around a lot. This screwdriver is from their "Education Services", which we imagine is something like a Siberian "education facility".

We use the screwdriver to open the battery compartment on our childrens' toys. Although probably not its original intent, this giveaway is breaking with tradition by proving useful long beyond the tradeshow.

Newbridge. Leader of the world in frame relay. Purchased then unceremoniously squashed by Alcatel.

This is a notepad cube announcing some product or other. The interesting part is the Leonardo DaVinci drawings on the sides of cube. If we remember correctly, there was an associated trade show skit involving Leonardo and some scantily-clad Mona Lisa look-alikes. But that may have just been a dream. A beautiful, beautiful dream.

This notepad cube is deployed next to our phone, ready to be used for jotting down important messages. The large number of remaining pages should give some indication of our popularity among phone-call-generating colleagues.

AFC gave away these little tins of cheap mints. The cutesy name (acromynts) was echoed inside by the acronyms on each mint. The mints are all gone from our tin (we use it now to store shiny objects that we have found on the street), but we seem to recall that the acronyms included FTTP, DSL, PON, WWJD, and others.

Although initially appalling in flavor and texture, the mints became addictive as the trade show wore on. Soon, an underground black market in mints arose, with rival gangs claiming turf between discinct sets of aisles. Skirmishes broke out, nasty emails were sent to unsuspecting Blackberries, and the authorities eventually had to be called in to restore order. An object lesson for anyone to consider before bringing edible giveaways to a trade show.

AFC, of course, had the temerity to actually win a huge contract from Verizon and was punished by being bought by Tellabs. Let that be a lesson to startups everywhere to be careful what you wish for.

In honor of the unknown startup

In recognition of all of the other nameless, faceless startups, we present this true collectors' item from Supercomm 2000. That year, a group of startup companies with small tradeshow budgets banded together to put on a show that could compete with the likes of Nortel (Blues Brothers performance), Fujitsu (Ray Charles performance), and Lucent (dancing bears). They called themselves the "Upstarts" and hired diminutive commedian Martin Short for a shindig complete with free drinks.

Hiring a performer who speaks and expects people to listen rather than a performer who plays loud music and expects people to move around is not a brilliant idea for a trade show. This is an audience full of people who talk for a living - and their customers, with whom they wish to talk. They don't shut up long enough to listen to themselves, much less listen to a Canadian SNL alumnus. It didn't go well for the "Upstarts". Mr. Short ended his act early and left the stage in disgust. The success of the entire debacle should be judged by the fact that nearly 5 years later, we still have a ticket for a free, unconsumed drink.

I'm sure that there is an object lesson, and maybe even a moral, in there somewhere. Something about poor decision making by startups during the boom. However, we are not the moralizing type and don't wish to offend anyone who may end up hiring us in the future. So, let's just say that it was a one-time event that will be compensated for in our future decision making.

What's that on your shelf?

Rather than prattle on and on until you, our poor reader(s), are tired, disgusted, and woefully behind on your homework, we'll stop here and make a request. Do you have an addition for our museum of lost opportunities? If so, send it along. If we can figure out this photo-posting thing, we may even post it. Or maybe not - it really depends on whether or not we like the way you spell your name.

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Inter(nal)view: Dinner with the XGF

So, I understand that you had dinner with your High School girlfriend this week?

Yes, I did. In Georgetown while I was visiting Reston, Virginia to speak at a trade show. I caught a cab into town and met her at a seafood restaurant.

How long had it been since you’d seen her?

About 20 years.

Wow. That’s a long time. Did you have anything to talk about?

Sure. Reminiscing. This and that.

Can you be more specific?

No, not in a public forum. Honestly, it’s none of your business.

OK, fair enough. But for those of us who may find ourselves in this type of situation in the future, do you have any advice to offer?

Well, maybe one thing. If you find yourself in such a situation, and the other party at some point says, “You were the first person that I ever fell in love with”, the correct response is an immediate “Me too” or some variation thereof.

The absolutely wrong response is “Wow… Really?”

Thanks for that advice. Truly something to keep in mind. Thank you for your time today.

My pleasure.

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FTTX Explained for You

Since I'm spending all of my time updating the Enloe post, I haven't had time to write anything else. So, here's an old creation from over a year ago that was written for another, now defunct site.

Enjoy!

Recommending a High Fiber Diet

Fiber to the Everywhere

The latest craze in the telecomm world is fiber to the [geographical noun], or FTTX, a nifty brand new technology invented only a few decades ago that promises to make it possible for most human beings to never leave their homes again by deploying fiber optic cable directly to the couch. And, as most anyone not on the Atkins starve-until-your-body-starts-to-eat-itself diet is well aware, adding more fiber to your diet is recommended by most medical doctors whose degrees were not obtained via an email soliciation.

Fiber ubiquity is a lofty goal, especially in America where we're mostly still using copper lines that were actually installed by Alexander Graham Bell himself (he was a very busy man who lived to be nearly 175 years old). In countries like Japan, nearly everyone has or can get fiber all the way to their home. But to be fair Japan had the unfair advantage of having their infrastructure bombed into atoms merely 50-odd years ago. It's hard to compete against that kind of prescient urban planning.

What's in it for Me?

Unlike most of the recent fads in telecom that were pants-wetting exciting to the bearded few and of less interest than a C-SPAN marathon to the average human being, ubiquitous fiber actually impacts normal people in a tangible and marvelous way. Not only will most of us get to experience underground boring machines tearing through our sewer lines on Friday afternoon ("Someone will be out to look at that on Monday between 6am and 7pm, m'am"), but we're also promised nifty new ways to experience the most important and cental feature of American life - television. And we'll get some fast internet stuff, too.

It is no secret to anyone (except those still paying for AT&T long distance and AOL users) that telecomm companies are losing customers. How many people do you know who order a second line for their home anymore? I'll tell you how many you know - you don't know any. They get cell phones or the put in the fancy-schmancy VoIP boxes that they can't stop bragging about despite the fact that every time the kids plug in their X-Box the phone line goes dead. And some people even have the audacity to get rid of their regular phone line altogether! The nerve! Choosing a less expensive and more convenient option over the embedded monopoly! That's ... why that's ... capitalistic!

So, what is a lonely telecomm company to do when its friends (who pay it money on a regular basis) start leaving it for a more attractive communications company with better hair? Well, the less attractive, "big-boned" companies have looked deep into their customers' souls and discovered that while most people can live without a phone, they will give up food for the children to avoid missing the latest Oprah episode (the one with the girl who has the thing and Oprah makes the audience cry then gives them all gift certificates). Enter fiber ubiquity, which will allow fabulous video services to be provided to every customer in America who lives within a very specific trial area and has purchased a house within the last 2-3 weeks and does not currently have a phone installed. And you'll get some fast internet stuff, too.

The actual way that the television signal will get into your home depends on who brings it to you. There are several options, none of which really matter to you right now. The important thing is that you'll get over 100 channels of high-quality video including pay-per-view, which you will be pressured to purchase in quantity to help defray the cost of repairing the sewer in your front yard.

And Some Fast Internet Stuff, Too

Here in the US, cable companies and telcos nearly pull their arms out of the sockets patting themselves on the back for providing their customers with up to 3million bits per second of internet download speed. Really, they claim, why would you want any more? In Asia, customers are getting speeds up to 30 times faster for about the same price per month. And they are using all of the bandwidth that their providers can give them. Which begs the question, what are they doing with all of that bandwidth?

Quite simply, the main applications are the same as in the US. Namely, downloading porn. Sure, there's some other stuff, too - like streaming video, file transfers, photograph sharing, and strictly legal music downloads. But, as with everything internet related, it eventually comes down to high-quality, full-length videos where the primary color on-screen is flesh and the dialog uses significantly more vowel sounds than consonants. With fiber ubiquity, couch potatos will be able to simultaneously download a movie while watching it on high definition pay-per-view television (except in most of Utah and parts of Washington, DC). And that, loyal readers, is a lofty goal for the USA.


Some Acronyms with your Fiber, Sir?

The advent and popularity of ubiquitous fiber has led to a bumper crop of confusing and contradictory acronyms. To impress your less regular friends with your healthy fiber knowledge, merely memorize and occasionally excrete the following set compiled for your benefit.

• FTTP: Fiber to the Premise. This is an all-encompasing acronym covering just about anything. Due to the newfound popularity of ubiquitous fiber, nearly every company will find a way to squeeze this one into their press releases. See, for example, the newest "FTTP Burger" from McDonald's.


• FTTH: Fiber to the Home. What the industry is convinced that you, the homeowner, cannot live without. This marvelous technology would deliver television, telephone, and internet directly to your home! OK, so maybe you think that you already have that. Trust us, this is better. It's fiber!


• FTTC: Fiber to the Curb: A weasely cop-out by companies that want to run fiber right up near yout home, but not actually into it. Sort of like selling you a house right on the water, but requiring you to walk through a glass-filled abandoned lot to actually get there. It's nice, and you're not going to turn it down, but really - why not go ahead and put in the boardwalk?


• FTTN: Fiber to the Node. SBC made this one up as a part of their public announcements. After hours of analysis by the best brains in the business, most people have concluded that FTTN is the same thing as FTTC, but with the added benefit of creating a new acronym that only applies to the West Coast and parts of Texas.


• FTTB: Fiber to the Business. Providing your employees with sufficient fiber to surf the web up to 25% more often, ensuring America's further dominance of the technology fields.


• FTTX: Fiber to the [geographical location]. A cheap cop-out meaning "all of the above", this one is only used by vendors who are afraid to offend SBC ("FTTN is different, dammit!") and by hack writers with little-seen blogs.

No More Regularity Comments

Yes, gentle readers (note: gentle readers is a copyright of Miss Manners, who will bust a cap in you if you don't mention her when you use it), ubiquitous fiber offers the promise of a beautiful future for telecomm equipment vendors and discredited telecomm executives all over the US and parts of Canada. Unlike the telecom frenzies of the past, calm and rational minds are fully in control of this latest frenzy, ensuring succesful deployment and bounteous riches for everyone involved.

And in the spirit of completely rational exhuberence, you may now refer to me as as the FTTFTTXB (Fiber to the Fiber to the [geographical location] blogger.

Thank you for your valuable and unrecoverable time.

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