Inigo Montoya and the Princess Phone

The following is an excerpt from a letter to some of the guys we’re trying to “reach out to” for our 30th college re-union sometime this weekend. There was more, but you don’t really want to know all that. You probably don’t even want to know all this either, but it might bring back some memories… some more recent than others.

I don’t know my cell number. My kids say it wouldn’t matter anyway ’cause “Dad keeps it off”. I even have an i-Phone so that in addition to not taking in-coming calls, I won’t download stuff I can’t read. Although I do get email. Can’t read it too good ’cause the doggone screen… font ONLY gets big enough just before the car moves and you lose the signal. And then there’s all that tapping that goes on next… like on the outside of the window from the guy with the swirling light on top of his car and the gun on his belt. Yeah.

That guy with the pen and the receipt book… like he wants to know how you like your eggs: “With one bullet or two?” Reminds me of the guy with the nasty cigarette down at the Campus Grill  (a.k.a. the Campus Thrill) who’d just as soon as put his out in your coffee or on your head. “Whatcha lookin’ at college boy? So my eyeball bounces like a ping pong ball… I like it that way. How you think I keep this job? Waitin’ on you? fer’ ya’ midget tips… like I’m gonna feed a family of four on 35 cents? Doncha’ know the entertainment when you see it? Gonna be on America’s Got Talent, Ted Mac’s Amateur Hour or something… you’ll see.” And then he texts his buds, “ROTFL!” only they’re too dead from the nicotine and … I mean they’re in his tongue… and he doesn’t have a phone either. But that doesn’t stop him. I mean Shorty’s not all that sober, right? At least I don’t think he is… really… I hope he’s not like this sober… I  mean putting the lightbulb in his mouth like Uncle Fester was one thing… but punching his tongue on different places with his fingers…like they’re numbers is just sooooo out there. Weird. Even for the Thriller. Betcha Catherine Zeta Jones isn’t wondering whose network HE’s on, huh?

And this is so rich I’m punching my i-Phone, trying to tap out “ROTFL” and get a snap at the same time… only I can’t  get more than Safari to open. “Arrggh!”.  And I can’t send to anyone other than me… ’cause putting all that contact information into this thing is a lifetime I don’t have.  And guess what? I didn’t. So I’m puzzled and trying to figure out what time zone or life zone (is there such a thing?) I’m in so I can get one of my kids to help me out: “Um… Dad wants to send a text message… only he doesn’t know how to do it… can you help him out… I mean just do it… without all that mean things you say to him at these times? Thanks!”

Actually, cell phone number is xyz but it’s not hooked up to a gambling website, or Russian Bank, or African despot’s LOC. And I already tried to rip myself off from a remote location and it didn’t work. But if you do manage to get some money out of this thing “’cause it’s like “Three-freaking-Gee” … cut me in, huh? Y’know what this thing’s good for? No… I mean BESIDES Urban Spoon and “Tilt” games…. It’s good if you ever need to whack someone in the head with a phone…. ’cause it weighs a freaking ton and makes a good missile,… or use it as a flashlight… to find your keys. Oh yeah. And am I loving my $90 a month contract for a flashlight? Ya’ think? NOT. No, I’m selling it to the freaking Iranians so they put in on one of THEIR missiles and send it over somewhere useful… like to AT&T headquarters where it counts.. And then maybe if I’m lucky, the FBI will get wind of it, cancel my contract, and pay me not to? Think they could take this whole bit about FTC off my bill and just put an url linking me to the FBI? Now that would be a bill I’d pay!

So the moral of this story… the story of how I ended up here in Guantanmo this weekend instead of at the re-union  …is that this is what happens when you lose a good phone somewhere under a seat and then use it as an “opportunity” to replace it with something ’cause it’s “H-O-T”. Next time… when you see someone on an elevator with their faced squinched up, staring down at an I-phone… don’t think they really like it, that they’re cool, or know what they’re doing. They’re not and they don’t. Fact is, they’re trapped in a contract not of their making… and certainly not of their reading.

So, yeah… just go ahead and ask them.  “How’d ya’ like your i-Phone?” Typically they’ll answer something like Inigo Montoya in that way-macho Action film The  Princess Bride, “My name is Inigo Montoya… You killed my cellphone! Prepare to die!” and they’ll be quite insistent… they might even pull out a sword and say, “Ask me what I want…. anything at all… anything! Promise  me everything! Promise me…. you …. you six fingered  man! Okay… I’ll tell you… ha! I want my OLD cell phone back!”

‘Bout says it all, huh? Oh… BTW… I’m NOT the six fingered man, but it sure would comes in handy trying to press all those doggone buttons on my old phone. Guess that’s what sent me down this path in the first place, huh? But maybe like  Mr. Six Fingers… I’m better off at the other end of Inigo’s sharp pointy thing. Yeah. That’s it.

BloggerDude Spamalot

“I don’t know If I said it already but …Excellent site, keep up the good work. I read a lot of blogs on a daily basis and for the most part, people lack substance but, I just wanted to make a quick comment to say I’m glad I found your blog. Thanks,

A definite great read….” (REITblog)

Hey, I found your blog while searching on Google your post looks very interesting for me. I will add a backlink and bookmark your site. Keep up the good work! (Bill Bartmann)

Yeah. And I’ll bet you spam that to all the blogs. So do you come by here much? or just “bot” a contact to a bunch of IP addresses? I mean I’m flattered? but I’m not even sure what product your email address is supposed to link me to, or how you’re supposed to Dokken my chicken (drive) or whatever it is you’re selling or whether you’re just trying to lodge a “token” in my network so you break through. At least you’re not one of those pharmaceutical-type deals. But y’know what? You actually do come by here too much with the same doggone message… different address. One time you… yeah, y’know who you are (“Bill”) even tried to be this “guy” who was in fact webaddress marketer. No surprise. Soooooo, all my readers are like my “friends” on Facebook? Gee….

But seriously… FWIW, other blogs have a lot more substance. See my “About” for details, or just check out the links. Better yet, fry my chicken.

Oh… and by the way… if you ever “get a life”… seriously… I mean one with breath rather than a “virtual life”… then maybe you’ll want to join me. Figure, I mean… like y’know what I’m talking about Duuuuuuuude?…We could like “reach out” and catch a wave to the snooze bar? Maybe surf the web with the webheads… I dunno. Spam the world, win a Nobel Reeses Pieces Prize? F’sure. Glad to be of substance fer ya.

There… that ought to show’em I don’t got no substance. And I’m not even from Sweeden. Go figure.

Geekin’ with the SubDeacon

So I got a note the other day from a kind reader. I don’t get many notes… maybe it’s a sign… but it got me thinking… and that’s always dangerous. And thinking about one’s geek factor can be even more dangerous.

I mean I’m in in the Western Rite of the Orthodox Church (which wasn’t really part of the conversation with my correspondent)… but if you’d ask, I’d say that in many ways… if not all… my heart’s true home is in the Eastern liturgy. But that’d be too mainstream, right? Right. And we couldn’t do that, now could we? Nope. Like Tina (now it’s Teena, now it’s Tuna… now it’s Tyna) Turner once sang with her ol’ buddy Ike:

‘Course it sort of starts with a duet:

“… and we never ever do anything… nice and easy… now do we? So we’re gonna take the beginning of this song…”

“Left a small WASPy church in the Sub-burbs…”

“…and we’re gonna do it… nice and easy…”

“…’started workin’ Orthodoxy’s… downtown scenes…”

“… and then we’re gonna make it… nice and rough…”

Then they start singing together:

“…but we never missed, one eison in a service”

worryin’ bout the way things might have been…

Chorus:

Shakin’ censors…they keep on smokin’

Hail Holy Theotokos… we keep on hopin’…

Chantin’…

Chantin’…

Chantin’ on a Sunday

Swung a lot of incense in matins
Pumped double antidorons jus’ tryin’ to live

Feet an’ knees a creakin’

standin’ by the Subdeacon…
Whoa… h-o-w-o-w the Body is hap-py to give

Shakin’ censors…they keep on smokin’

We’re catholic… now but… we’re still not Popin’…

Chantin’…

Chantin’…

Chantin’ on a Sunday

Yes, it’s just my luck to be in an off-beat rite in an off-beat church. How much geekier can it get? Thomas Merton said God has a sense of humor… and his Buddhist friend Suzuki… who had deal with the fact that his family named him after a motorcycle…. agreed citing the inch worm as proof. Like it would never occur to him to cite his friend Harley Davidson? Nope, couldn’t do that! …as if. I mean… just shows how little these guys really knew, huh? Only I’m thinking they were probably ex-football players or ex-something… and then did the monk thing just ’cause it would be “more ex”, “cool”, “impress the chicks”, etc…. only to find that:

“Hello… you guys just took a vow of chastity…”.

“We did what?”

“Hey… I’m Japanese… if I signed anything like that it must be a language thing…”

“It was IN Japanese!”

“Well…  that let’s me out… I’m American… we don’t do foreign languages, much less math, state capitals… hey is this a game show?”

“Not exactly, guys… more like a MON-a-STERY… emphasis on the stairs… and you’ll be running them… in your sweats from now on. ”

“Signed on the line! Sweet!”

“Oh… I am so Shih Tzuud.”

“Nah… I’m thinkin’ more like we’ve been Basenjied”.

Might say we’re all in a game of “gotcha”… only some of us know and some of us don’t. Some are just playin’ and others playin’ for keeps. Enter the Orthodox Parallelogram, and first thing you know books start coming at you like that door in the opening narrative to Rod Serling’s Twilight Zone :

Twilight Zone narrative by Rod Serling.

Yep, here in the Orthodox Parallelogram, we’ve got books for everything under the sun. But the one thing you really want to know… you’ll probably have to read a zillion books just to find. And then that one thing… whatever it is… will shift and become one other thing… and then another thing, and another and another. Until…

Until one day you realize that one of those things you gotta love about the Western Rite is the infinite number of “experts” who have never actually been to a service… but have somehow judged it from afar…. and surprise… surprise… found it (drum roll please)… unworthy. Hey, it’s a free country, folks are free to think what you want to think, go where you want to go, and get stuck where you want to get stuck… or maybe they just get stuck anyway. There are many reasons to like or dislike something, but articulating it is often a touch more difficult. That’s where things can get kind of weird. Try listening to a guy tell his wife he doesn’t like her dress. Tends to go down hill from the first word that doesn’t sound like: “So where’d you want to go for dinner?” Trust me… I ONLY learn things the hard way in life!… only to forget them later and learn them again.

So the point is that if you don’t like the Western Rite, and they’re plenty of you out there, let me say that y’know… when you think about it… it’s here. And kind of like your wife in her new dress… either be gentle… or rip it with some sensitivity… like you’re really concerned:

“Gee…that’s nice, but I thought you were gonna pick out something more… y’know… Gustavo Cadile-like… or is ol’ Gus just too last year?”

“Whaddya mean? These jeans? Ha! But that’s a great idea… I’ll be back in 30 minutes!”

“Ah… that’d be an ooops.”

Then again… sometimes… it’s not always the answer either. But at least you tried, and at least you’ll get a smile BEFORE you get whacked in the head… or the wallet. But the point is that this takes a bit of research, most don’t do it, and even if you do, you can still wind up on the pavement… one way or the other. And as this relates to the negatives of the Western Rite, let me simply say that I’ve heard a lot, seen a lot, and probably shared a lot of what people “think”. It has its blessings and what not, but sadly “what not” seems to be most of what you’ll see and most of this is just sadly misinformed. FWIW, I thought I’d point a link here for those geek enough to do the research… as to something a little more authoritative on the liturgy than the average ripster is going to touch… which just happens to be written by my priest.

My view? I’m hanging with Bishop Basil’s comments. But fair enough…one day, I may end up in the Liturgy of St. John… and that’d be fine, too. The truth is that I think this liturgical style faddishness… or preference… seems like arguing about whether a left hand or right hand Orthodox pitcher is “better” when all that matters is pitching it consistently over the plate and winning the game. Distractions are distractions. Let’s worry ’bout the real deal, and just follow Jesus Christ.

And if you’re really geek enough… really an Orthodox geek… then you don’t just leave it at WWJD (“What would Jesus do?”). No. That’s far too simple. You’re working on that while multi-tasking hesychastically on that even tougher question:  “What would the Subdeacon do?”