My New Favorite Apps

This week I downloaded a few new apps that I already love. Two are just dumb fun, one helps me track my exercise stuff and another is fun in meetings around the office (or in my classroom).

Action Movie FX

OK, this app is just dumb fun. But I laugh every time. The basic premise is that you can create a Michael Bay movie at the touch of a button. Record you favorite landmark and blow it up. Record video of Broadway during rush hour and have a huge asteroid drop in the middle of the road. Cars crashing, bombs flying. It’s all good clean fun. What makes it really fun, it to record someone saying something really stupid and blow him or her up. Trust me – everyone laughs.

I plan on blowing up a lot of things (via special effects) this weekend. I’ll let you know how it goes.

FitBit

In my quest to get into better shape, lose a few pounds and become overall healthier, I downloaded FitBit. It allows you to track everything. How much you exercise, how much you walk, how much you eat, the number of stairs you climb and the amount of water you drink. It syncs to your computer and mobile phone, so you have a constant reminder of how you’re doing against a BMI goal. It’s pretty cool. I also purchased a little sensor you wear on your clothing. It tracks everything you do. In fact, last night I wore it to sleep. It told me exactly how long it took me to fall asleep (7 minutes), how long I slept (5:35) and how many times I woke up during the night (3 times for a total of 12 minutes). So my total sleep quality was 98%. So when I’m sleeping, I’m really sleeping. It also didn’t yell at me for not getting more sleep.

Let’s see how I do over a longer period of time. I know that just by wearing the monitor I’ve adjusted my activity. Last night I chose to walk up 5 flights of stairs instead of taking the elevator – since my goal for the day was 10 flights. Hopefully this will help.

Applausometer

Yes, people tend to clap in meetings. People clap when they don’t mean it. People clap when the do mean it. Sometimes we’re being polite. Sometime we’re excited. So I downloaded an applause meter to really judge how people are feeling. It’s a lot of fun. In fact, I used it in my class last night. After every student presented, people clapped. I was looking at my phone to see who got the highest amount of applause. (I’m not telling!)

Atari Greatest Hits

I loved arcade games. I spent plenty of time and money playing games in the 80s. Now there’s an app that captures all the great Atari games. Missile Command, Pong, Breakout, Asteroids, Centipede, Gravitar, Liberator and Millipede. In all, there’s dozens of games in the App. And here’s the cool part, there’s a Bluetooth arcade controller that makes it feel like you’re playing the real arcade game. Of course, my son thinks this App sucks. The games are old. The graphics are old. And I have to admit, when you look at Asteroids, it’s kind of funny how basic the graphics are by today’s standards. But I don’t care. I’m play my game and I’m 15-years-old again.

That’s about it for today. Clapping, playing, dieting and blowing things up. Sounds like a microcosm of my life.

A Few Things That Made Me Smile

Today’s posting is going to be about a few odds and ends that I’ve been meaning to write about but never got around to putting them down on paper. Dumb things that made me laugh while commuting to work or things that happened that just made me smile. You know, stuff.

Frogger
Do you remember the arcade game Frogger? If you don’t, the basic premise of the game is a frog is trying to cross the street without getting run over by a car or truck. That’s it. That’s the entire game. And yet I would play over and over again until I got the high score on the machine. Every morning I play a human version of Frogger while getting of the Shuttle train from Grand Central. As soon as I get off the subway the foot traffic pattern means that one group of people have to cross a second group at a 90-degree angle. So imagine the game of Frogger, I’m the frog and the foot traffic is the car. You move one step forward, one step to the side, someone passes, you step forward again. And you try not to get hit. The problem, just like the game, you always gets hit. Someone always curses. Someone always yells. And eventually, it’s game over. Who would’ve thought way back in 1981 that all those quarters spent on Frogger would be helping my morning commute 31 years later. Certainly not me.

Instant Classic Ski Race
My son had a ski race this weekend. He came in third. He was really happy about winning a third place trophy and was very proud of his achievement. But what really made me happy was that he was incredibly happy about HOW he skied. He told me immediately after his first run that it was the ‘best run of his entire career.’ I love the fact that he thinks about his ski racing as a ‘career.’ Later that night when we were looking at photos I took at the mountain, he called them ‘instant classics’ and wanted them printed for his bedroom wall. He told me that the race ‘will be the highlight of his entire year.’ He was very happy with the result, very happy at his friends’ reaction to his race, and of course, very happy for the 8” piece of plastic that the Interclub race program calls a trophy. He thinks I should build him a trophy case for his awards. I don’t think so. But they are on his bedroom dresser.

I Don’t Drink
You’d be surprised how many people commented on my post about how I don’t drink. But my favorite was someone who sent the following cartoon. I thought it was hysterical.

Interviewing
I think I’ve written enough about stupid things NOT to say in an interview. But I feel the need to express this one again. Please don’t come in for an interview and tell me that you’re not interested in a certain part of the job. Don’t waste my time. Either you’re all in or you’re all out. I’ve had three people in the past two weeks tell me that they are REALLY interested in 40% of the job description, but not interested at all in 60%. One interview was 4 minutes long. Another waited until the end. And another didn’t tell me at all, but followed up with an e-mail afterwards. I’m not hiring any of them. Please, please, please, please, don’t waste my time. If you want to meet and talk, send me an e-mail and we’ll get together some place for a cup of coffee. (Notice I didn’t say ‘for a drink.’) But don’t waste interview time only to disqualify yourself at the end. Thank you.

So there you have it. What’s on my mind today? Commuting, Drinking, Interviewing and instant classic races.

2.8.12

Yet Another Conversation With My Son – Part 4

My wife is out of town this week. So it’s guy week around the Levy household. It also leaves a lot of time of interesting conversation. Here are a few of my favorites from the past few days.

Girl Trouble
Son: Dad, why does Gina (name changed) keep hitting me?
Me: I think that’s her way of showing you that she likes you.
Son: By hitting me? That doesn’t make any sense.
Me: But that’s the point, she can’t make sense of how she’s feeling, so hitting you seems like the right thing to do.
Son: Oh, that’s weird.
Me: It’s actually kind of cute.
Son: Is that what people mean when they say someone is ‘hitting on them?’
Me: Probably. That seems right.

Being A Fan
Son: Are you rooting for the Giants or the Patriots?
Me: I don’t know. I guess the Giants. But only because the Colts aren’t in it this year.
Son: What if the Colts played the Giants, would you root for the Colts?
Me: 100%.
Son: I think I’m rooting for the Giants. But if the Patriots win, I’ll switch to them.
Me: That’s not how it works; you root for one team win or lose.
Son: Do you hate all teams from Boston?
Me: I wouldn’t say hate ….
Son: So I can be a Red Sox fan?
Me: No.
Son: Mets?
Me: No.
Son: Orioles?
Me: OK, you can root for the Orioles.
Son: But that’s only because the Orioles stink, right?
Me: Yes.
Son: Just like the Colts.

Cell Phone
Son: Dad, when can I have a cell phone?
Me: Not yet.
Son: I know not yet, but when. Next year? The year after that?
Me: Why do you want a cell phone?
Son: To call you when I need you.
Me: There are phones everywhere. You can use any phone to call me.
Son: I can’t send a text message.
Me: True.
Son: And I can’t contact you if I get into a bus accident on the way home from school.
Me: True.
Son: And I can’t call you to pick me up from the mall.
Me: Wait, you have never been to the mall by yourself.
Son: That’s because I don’t have a cell phone.

So that’s what’s on the mind of a 9-year-old. Cell phones, sports and getting ‘hit on’ by girls. Ahhhh, it never ends.

2.7.12

Answers to questions people have asked about my past posts

How’s the exercise going?
It’s been slow and painful. I’m hoping that I can really tackle a set routine this week. I’ve created a daily workout on my computer and I’m beginning to put it into practice. And yes, I’m tired.

Reading my posts?
Someone just said something very funny to me, so I thought I’d share. I just mentioned to a woman in my office that I hadn’t talked to her for a while. She replied, “But I read your blog.” Hmmmmm, somehow people don’t need to talk to me because they’re reading what I’m writing? I hope not. So, if you’re reading this, come by and say hello every now and then.

More funny stuff my son says?
Many people have advised me to create a separate blog specifically for the funny stuff my son says. I’m not sure I’m ready to commit to a second blog so soon. For now, he stays on the main site. BTW – look for tomorrow’s post. He said some incredible things this weekend.

Did I purchase that guitar?
While tempted, I didn’t purchase a 1961 Epiphone Casino reissue. I liked the guitar but didn’t love it. So I couldn’t justify the purchase.

When will you write again about your class?
I only teach once a week, so if you’re looking for posts about my class, you’ll see those every Friday.

Do people really say those stupid things to you?
Yes, I don’t make up the dialogue. I have witnesses. In fact, the ‘women on the chairlift’ conversations are as close to word for word as humanly possible to remember.

Do you ever proofread what you write?
Yes, I’m famous around the agency for making funny typos. I’m sorry. I really try not to put typos in my posts. But I’m a terrible proofreader. Of course, that’s just an excuse; I’m actually a terrible speller.

Is this what you sound like?
Yes, if you were in my office, these posts would sound just like having a real conversation with me. And yes – at times I say really dumb things.

2.6.12/PM

15-Year-Old Scotch, 12-Year-Old Wine & 3-Month-Old Beer

I don’t drink alcohol.

Anyone who knows me will testify that I’m a terrible drinker. I barely drink at all, and when I do, I nurse a beer forever. I don’t know why I don’t drink. It’s not like I made a decision not to drink. And I do have a beer or glass of wine from time to time with friends. But I don’t consider myself a drinker. In fact, my beer of choice has turned into Stella Artois because people don’t make fun of me for ordering something like a Coors Light. I never know what to order, because I don’t order enough to know better.

But this weekend people who knew exactly what they liked to drink surrounded me.

My daughter and her boyfriend cracked open two bottles of 15-year-old scotch to taste the subtle differences between a blend and a single malt. They were in heaven. The special glassware, the perfect amount of ice and the exact timing of when to drink their choice were timed to perfection. Of course, they poured me a glass. And when I tried it I thought I would choke. It smelled like lighter fluid and it tasted like an empty ashtray. (I’m guessing, since I never actually tasted an ashtray.) But there they were, my 20-somethings enjoying their scotch like Don Draper from Mad Men. It was actually fun to watch. And funny to think that I would actually every be able to finish a glass.

At the same time, my wife was uncorking a nice bottle of 2000 French Bordeaux. Now, while I’m not much of a wine drinker, a least I can handle a glass of wine. And the smell of a 2000 Bordeaux is special. I love to smell the oak and the subtle aromas that come from every bottle. But after a few sips, I’m done with wine, too. I don’t think I’ve finished a glass of wine in 5 years. My wife and I have this little ‘drinking tango’ that we’ve perfected over the years. We both pour a glass, we both start to drink and when she’s finished her glass, she then finishes mine. She’s happy. I’m happy. In fact, there are times when I switch glasses with her without her asking. It looks like I’ve finished a glass, when I’ve barely had a few sips. It’s a win-win for everyone.

And now that brings me to beer. I don’t know why, but I can drink beer all day and all night and never get any kind of buzz. All I get is bloated and full. I think it was my years working on beer at two different agencies. I worked on everything from local Baltimore beers to the King of Beers, Budweiser. I was exclusively a Bud man when I was getting a free case every month for working on the brand. I realize that I don’t really drink much beer now. Sometimes when I do open a bottle, people notice.

Somehow I don’t get the same enjoyment from drinking. Perhaps I’ve become confortable not drinking. Perhaps I’m a control freak and don’t like the subtle loss of control that drinking brings. Perhaps I just prefer iced tea. Or perhaps there’s a guardian angel watching over me telling me to use judgment because I’m not a drinker.

Or perhaps I just don’t like to drink.

2.6.12

I Don’t Care Who Wins The Super Bowl – I Just Want To Win The Office Super Bowl Pool

This week I invested $40 in our office Super Bowl pool. According to Fox News, this week is the second largest illegal betting week of the entire year. And even though many companies have policies that prohibit internal betting, everyone looks the other way for the Super Bowl. Well, if my company has such a policy, I know 100 people who are in hot water.

Now, I find myself in the unusual position of rooting for a score versus rooting for a team. Go, Pats, Go Giants, come on scoreboard. My numbers: Patriots 7, Giants 0 and Patriots 5, Giants 1. So here are some scores I can hope for. First quarter: Giants 10, Patriots 7 or Patriots 7, Giants 0. Sounds good, right? The problem is in the last 10 Super Bowl games; there has never been a first quarter score of 10-7 or 7-0. OK, I suddenly don’t feel so lucky.

How about halftime scores, Patriots 7, 17 or 27, Giants 0, 10, or 20. Hmmm, not feeling so good about halftime either. OK, what about the end of the game scores, Patriots 7, 17, or 27, Giants 0, 10, 20, or 30. The alternate score: Patriots 15, 35, 45, Giants 21, 31, or 41. I have just decided I’ve thrown my money away.

So it seems like my best shot is the first quarter. Tough, hard fought quarter where the Patriots squeak out a touchdown in the final moments of the quarter for a 7-0 lead. Or the defenses can’t stop the offenses, and both teams march up and down the field for a Giant lead of 10-7. Either way I cash my illegal check for 250 smackers.

After cashing in, I can enjoy the rest of the game knowing that there is little chance for me to win again. Unless, of course, the defenses stiffen and the score remains 10-7 or 7-0 for the rest of the game, and I run the table on all four quarters. But of course, that will never, ever happen.

So the odds are I won’t win any money. The odds are I’ll root for the Giants no matter the score. (Peyton’s little brother plays for the Giants. And I like Peyton.) And the odds are that I’ll play one of these pools again. In fact, the number one largest illegal betting week is right around the corner.

It’s called March Madness. And I have $20 ready to donate to somebody else.

2.4.12

Agent K

When my daughters were younger, we used to have secret agent names for each other. At one point we added the letter “o” to our names, so my secret agent name was Daddy-o, and my daughters we Nikki-o and Kristen-o. But that got old, and we started using Agent R, Agent N and Agent K.

Not too long ago, I found a note hidden in a bracelet box from Agent K. It was written on notepaper and written in pre-teen cursive. Here’s the entire note – I love every word.

Hi, I’m Kris Levy and I like being me. I am comfortable in my skin and I don’t try to be someone I’m not. I really think that’s important, you know. I mean if you hate who you are, then what’s the point of living?

Some people think I’m ugly cause of a bad reputation. I go somewhere where they don’t know me and they think I’m a goddess – so I say: screw ‘em. If they’re not nice to you then why make peace – just ignore them (harder than it seems.) I haven’t quite gotten the knack of it yet.

A little more about me. I am not racist, but I don’t believe in dating out of race. I am nice and a little bit of a nuisance. I hate when people call me “not normal” and what is that? I am as of Feb 19th, 5’ 3” and 100 pounds. If you really care, I have size 8 feet, but that’s if you care.

I am good or personally extremely good at art. I want to be a fashion designer and put myself in my own runways and say hi to my friends back in Philly and say ‘Ha! I made it’ to my enemies. That would be a blast!!!

This is MY chat room – enter if you dare – but I’m warning you, ya better be nice – no cursing. This is a nice chat room. Well, I gotta go. I am kind of tired and my hand hurts so write to me at (—-) and live by this motto – “to fear love is to fear life. Take a deep breath, go for it and don’t ever look back.”

So long for now, yours,
Agent K

I love so much about this. I love that as a pre-teen my daughter knew she wanted to be a designer. And on Monday, she begins a new position as a Store Design Coordinator for Urban Outfitters. It seems she knew all along that this is where she belongs. After a stint at Free People (owned by the same company) – she’s moving onward and upward to the big brand. I’m very proud of her.

I also love that she knew from a young age that she wasn’t going to fit in everywhere. That certain people wouldn’t get her and certain people would treat her like a ‘goddess.’ She has always lived on her terms.

Congratulations Kristen on your new gig. It’s going to be amazing. I always new you could do it. I’m as proud as a father can possibly be. As you said in your hidden note, “go for it and don’t ever look back.”

I love you,

Agent R

2.2.12

If You Were Stranded On An Island

I love these silly questions: if you were stranded on an island and you could only bring one album, one movie, one book and one TV series, what would they be?

OK, let’s make some assumptions, you have an endless supply of electrical power; so you can listen to your album, watch your movie and TV series. Let’s assume you happen to have a solar power source, and all your devices work – but you don’t have an Internet or satellite connection – that would be too easy.

Let’s also assume that this island has enough food and fresh drinking water that you’ll be stuck there for let’s say 10 years. And let’s also say that you’re alone.

Phew, that was a lot of assumptions. That said, here are my choices:

One album:
I thought about this a lot. There are so many artists I love, so many albums I’d love to listen to over and over again. I think I’d want something hopeful but also something that is timeless. So I decided on the “Woodstock” soundtrack. What? I know, you expected The Beatles Revolver or Rubber Soul. Perhaps even Goats Head Soup by the Rolling Stones or The Who’s Tommy. Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon. All great albums. All in my top 10. But for the variety, the different artists, the songs, and the joy – I’m going with Woodstock. Janis Joplin, The Who, Crosby, Still, Nash & Young, Sly and the Family Stone. Gotta love it.

One movie:
This is probably the hardest category of all. What movie would I want to watch over and over and over again? It’s certainly NOT going to be Cast Away with Tom Hanks or any horror or science fiction that would freak me out at night. I thought about the Godfather – but I think I’ve played that too much already. I thought about my all time favorite movie – Patton – but even that would get old. Nope, my choice would be ‘Some Like It Hot’ starring Jack Lemon, Tony Curtis and Marilyn Monroe. Funny. Timeless. And I never get sick of it.

One book:
I admit, I thought about “How to survive anything,” but decided that was too easy. I also checked off books I’ve read, loved, but never recommended to anyone. I decided I needed a book that makes me laugh every time I pick it up, a book that spoke to me personally, and a book that I’ve recommended to many people. So my choice: ‘A Walk In The Woods’ by Bill Bryson. It’s a travel journal about his adventures walking the Appalachian Trail. If you haven’t read it, please do. You’ll laugh a lot.

One TV series:
This was the easiest one for me. While there are many TV shows I love and I loved growing up, Seinfeld, The Cosby Show, All in the Family, MASH, and Cheers, I think I’d get sick of them eventually. But the show I can never get sick of is ‘I Love Lucy.’ I can watch re-runs of that show every day and laugh. I think its genius. And I would be happy with Lucy, Ricky, Fred and Ethel forever.

So there you have it. Woodstock, Some Like It Hot, A Walk in the Woods and I Love Lucy.

What would you choose?

What Makes A Best Friend?

After spending time with my high school yearbook over the weekend, I began thinking why did Ken and I remain best friends for so long, while other people simple became is distant memory?

What was it about our relationship that not only survived the test of time, but all the stupid stuff that gets in the way of long term relationships? Here are my thoughts:

Complementary talents
Ken was the most amazing athlete I ever met. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t do. In football, basketball and baseball he was a star. He could have been the star of any team for which he played. He chose basketball as his lead sport. And he was very good at it. I was never much of an athlete in any sport but was instead very active in the arts. I would cheer for Ken at his games, he would be in the audience at my shows. We were never jealous of each other’s strengths. In fact, I think I know more about sports and he knows more about the arts because of our friendship.

We liked different girls
From the time we first started being interested in girls, we never once liked the same girls. We never even liked the same kind of girls. Ken always dated the sporty girl – the cheerleader, the soccer player, the track star. Of course, I always dated the artsy girl. The singer, dancer and artist. Ah, but here’s where it gets interesting – Ken married the artist and I married an incredible athlete. I think we married our complementary part. The part we feel most comfortable being around. When I’m around Ken’s wife, we always have things to talk about, books, movies, plays, art – and he always has great conversations with my wife, too. It’s kind of funny how things work out.

Money, money, money
I’ve known Ken for over 40 years and we’ve never borrowed money from each other. Not that I wouldn’t loan him money. In fact, I’d trust him with my entire bank account. (As an accountant, Ken did my taxes for years, so he knows more about my finances than I do.) But we’ve never borrowed from each other. We never had to have that uncomfortable ‘are you ever going to pay me back?’ conversation. I’m not saying it was critical – but I don’t think it hurt either.

Slightly dysfunctional families
Ken and I both had interesting families. Ken was child #3 of 4, I was #5 of 5. I didn’t even know he had an older sister until I was an adult. My oldest sister was married and out of the house before I even met him in the 4th grade. I think both of our families were very willing to have both of us out of the house as much as possible, which allowed us to go on countless adventures. We had a lot of fun.

History
There are times when I don’t talk to Ken for months and we can pick up right were we left off. We have so much history, we always have something to talk about, some memory to laugh about, some old story to tell again. It never gets old. In fact, it will never get old.

I met Ken when I was 9-years-old and in the 4th grade. I look at my 9-year-old, 4th grader son and think often that I hope he finds a best friend this year like I did. Someone who will bring him as much laughter, fun, good times, companionship, common sense and friendship.

As long as he doesn’t think he comes from a dysfunctional family.

PS: I’d love to know about your best friend, and why you think you’re so close.

1/31/12

I Need To Kick Start My Exercise Routine & Stupid Conversations

They say the best way to begin something is to tell as many people as humanly possible you’re going to do it. So, I’m announcing it here. I have to start exercising more. A lot more. And I’m going to start on Wednesday, February 1st. Really. I swear. No kidding. Honest. (I hope.)

I used to exercise. I even belong to a gym. A gym I haven’t been to in over a year. I have workout equipment in my basement. I have a treadmill. My 9 year old uses it more than me. I used to exercise every morning before I went to work. I’d get up early and go into my basement. For 8 months I was religious about it. Then suddenly I stopped. I think I got a cold and never started up after I was feeling better.

My wife even commented how good I was looking. I was getting positive reinforcement from everyone. I have shed almost 20 pounds. I was feeling stronger, looking better, feeling better and had a great attitude. Then it all went to hell.

I don’t know how it happened.

My wife often comments that I’m an ‘all in’ or ‘all out’ kind of person. When I do something – I don’t do it half way. I go in with all guns firing or not at all. That I’m not a halfway person. I guess I see that in myself. I do get fanatical about certain things. I also lose interest in things quickly.

So, here it is. Wednesday is the day. I plan to get up early and work out every morning. And by every morning, I mean every morning. Monday through Friday. I know if I take a day off, I’ll stop completely. I need an every day routine.

I promise I will report back to you monthly to let you know if I’ve stuck to my program. If I see you in the office, I want you to ask me about my workouts. If I see you in the classroom and I look tired, it’s because I’m getting up early. And if you see me eating a jelly donut – remind me that I’m supposed to be watching my diet, too.

In other words, if I fail – it’s your fault. (Not really)

Stupid Conversations – A follow-up

A few weeks ago, I told you about a conversation I had with two women on a chairlift. You know, about having children that are 27 and 9-years-old, and how it couldn’t be from the same wife. Well, these same two women cornered me again this weekend. I wanted to kill myself. Here’s the conversation:

Woman #1: You’re the guy with the two wives, right?
Me: What?
Woman #1: The kids who are 20 from one wife and a young kid from wife #2.
Me: Yes, that’s me.
Woman #1: What do you call them? Wife #1 and wife #2?
Woman #2: Doesn’t that imply there will be a wife #3 or wife #4?
Me: (With disgust in my voice) I call my wife ‘my wife’ and my ex – I don’t call her anything. I call her by name if I need to refer to her.
Woman #1: Oh, so the first wife is like Voldemort from Harry Potter ‘She who must not be named.’
Me: Not exactly.

At this point I refused to engage in conversation.

So, that’s it for today. I’m starting to exercise, and I still think these woman have some baggage they’re not revealing. Interesting.

1.30.12