It's finally happening

An actual email I received last week, only slightly edited:

Ek, Brian to me

I saw your writeup on [name of celebrity] and his “musical” endeavors, and thought you might get a laugh out of this new website, created for the amusement of bloggers and [celebrity’s] fans.

It is:

Web site: www.[i’m not going to encourage them by telling you].com
Password: FRT6YH0039

The site, which is dedicated to [celebrity’s] current work on the [some product] campaign features:

All of his [product] spots, including his brand-new [particular product]spot
Behind the scenes interviews with [celebrity] – all exclusive and unscripted
An assortment of new cell phone ring tones
Wallpaper and screen savers featuring [celebrity]

I’m sure all of this will be new to you, since we’re unfortunately not airing the spots in Australia. Any and all of this stuff can be downloaded to your blog so you can share it with your friends and readers. No copyright concerns – feel free to use it if you like. Thanks for your time.

Regards,

Brian


This amuses me greatly, and will continue to do so for many weeks to come.

It is fabulous that anybody would think that the key to promoting their product would be to get a mention on “Life is a Highway”. And it gets about a billion times funnier when we consider that this product is only available in the USA.

I can’t quite say that this blog has never been read by anyone anywhere in North America, but that’s only because the lovely Emmak of Baltimore left a comment about six months ago. Also, I suspect that I probably get the occasional visit from a soon to be disappointed Tom Cochrane fan. But that would be about it.

How do they think this would work? Do these people really think that someone will ring them and say “I was going to go to your competitors, but then I noticed your produce was endorsed by some guy in Australia who is probably not called Craig, and I just had to buy it now”?

Much as I refuse to encourage Brian by actually naming his product here, I have to admire the guy. The sheer nerve required to offer me the opportunity to promote his product for free and then assure me that I won’t get sued for breach of copyright is indeed admirable. But what really impresses me is that this guy has somehow convinced a corporation to pay him actual money to google the name of a celebrity, read whichever blogs mention that particular person, and send a few emails.

I have no idea how Brian pulled this off, but I salute him.

Musical collaborations that should not have worked

But they did.

Carlos Santana and Rob Thomas - Smooth
One of these two was the lead singer of Matchbox 20, possibly one of the blandest, paint by numbers college rock bands ever. Matchbox 20 were once described as being like the Counting Crows but without all the wingeing, and they were actually happy about that. Clearly they failed to grasp that it was all the angsty stuff that made the Counting Crows so good.

The other one was the guitarist from, well, Santana. If anyone can name more than one Santana song, they are doing better than me. The one song that everyone remembers is “Black Magic Woman”, which was, surprisingly enough, a cover of an old Fleetwood Mac song.* More recently, Carlos Santana has taken his effects pedal that clearly only has one setting and dominated the world of duets, but most of his work, and particularly the recent duet with that Aerosmith dude, has been woeful.

How in the world did these two come up with “Smooth”, one of the most passionate and most funkiest love songs ever? It’s baffling, but it rocked.

Rob Thomas proved with this song that he really was the natural successor to the Counting Crows by being only the second person ever to get away with using the word “barrio” in an English language recording, although it must be said that rhyming it with “radio” was probably pushing the friendship.


William Shatner, Henry Rollins and Ben Folds – I can’t get behind that
Yes, there really was a song co-written by Captain Kirk, the lead singer of legendary punk band Black Flag, and the undisputed prince** of piano pop. As Andrew Denton asked at the time, which one of those three guys sat down one day and decided he wanted to work with the other two?

It would be pushing it to suggest that this song is a classic, or even that it is particularly good. The point is that it’s impressive that it exists at all. I am also endlessly curious as to whether any, and if so how many, of these guys were taking the piss. More importantly, if it was only two of them, did Rollins ever find out?


Shannon Noll and Natalie Bassingthwaite – Don’t give up
Just kidding


Wyclef Jean and Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson – It doesn’t matter
Yes, seriously, a credible hip hop artist who knows Lauren Hill and everything teamed up with a wrestler turned actor who is good at, um, yelling “It doesn’t matter”. This type of novelty song would usually sink like a stone in the manner of any recording with which Mark Mitchell was involved, or at the very least it would be hated by all people of taste in a manner not seen since Chris “not funny” Franklin released “Bloke”. In view of Wyclef’s previous collaboration with the cast of South Park, my hopes for this recording were not high.

So I was utterly surprised when this song turned out to be one of the most gloriously skankin’ releases in the entire history of hip hop. A line like “I’ve got a garden full of tress and a pocket full of cheese IT DOESN’T MATTER” would be reason enough to fall in love with this recording. But what really sold me on this was Wyclef’s perfectly pithy analysis of the vital importance of both loyalty to one’s roots and a commitment to redistribution of wealth when he reminded us that “If you ain’t sharing, people ain’t caring. Come up in the hood and they’ll take everything you’re wearing”.


Which proves beyond all doubt that random and ostensibly stupid musical collaborations are frequently a Good Thing.




*Possibly the most obscure musical fact on this blog yet, but entirely true.

** He cannot be king for so long as Billy Joel still lives

I hope he tells us more about the pumpkin

Just finding a pumpkin lurking under a tree in my back yard was enough to confuse me a little. It's baffling that on several occasions I have been within two metres of a huge pumpkin and I was completely unaware of this fact.

My confusion only becomes more pronounced when I consider that we have been renting here for about four years so if we had one of whatever sort of plant pumpkins grow on, I would have noticed by now. It's not like pumpkins are small things that are easy to miss. And I've been paying attention. I know we have apples, camelias and fairly small grapefruits around the place. Surely I would have noticed pumpkins.

Lets just say that word again, shall we?
Pumpkins.

On closer investigation, I found that the massive pumpkin was still attached to some sort of lengthy stalk which, if followed (which one of us was doing the stalking? Discuss) leads over the fence and into the neighbour's back yard.

I just cannot imagine the set of circumstances that led to a pumpkin getting right over the fence and about four metres into my yard. It's not like they climb. Sure, I used to live next door to a dingo that did this, but never a pumpkin.

Did the neighbours just decide they had one too many of these things? Was there some form of exceptionally subtle tornado? Is it the first stage of the invasion? OR WHAT?


I could become seriously obsessed with trying to figure this out.

Signs that it was time to mow the lawn: Part 1

I found a pumpkin the size of a basketball sitting on my lawn.

I married a very tolerant woman

And the evidence is right here in these fairly typical examples of the type of conversations we have every single day.

Exhibit A
The scene is a fairly normal suburban house in Adelaide, around 15 minutes walk from the nearest supermarket. There is currently no car in the driveway. INC and Honey Bear are discussing what to cook for their nieces for dinner. It’s a warm, pleasant day in early autumn.

Honey Bear: You could buy some fish for tomorrow night, but you probably don’t want to walk for 15 minutes in the sun with the raw fish.

INC: No, you’re right. For the fish’s sake, if nothing else

Honey Bear: Did you just say ‘for the fish’s sake?’

INC: Yes. Yes I did

Honey Bear So what, you don’t want it to be dead and hot?

INC: Sounds like hell to me.

Exhibit B
The scene is another fairly normal suburban house in Melbourne. Honey Bear and INC are about to go out.

Honey Bear: Your T-shirt is inside out

INC: No it’s not.

Honey Bear: Yes it is. Look, there’s the tag.

INC: Okay, that part of it is inside out

[brief pause while Honey Bear tries to decide whether there are words anywhere in the entire English language that can adequately convey the stupidity of that last statement. INC runs]

Exhibit C
The scene is the same suburban house, early in the evening. The phone is ringing.

Phone: Ring. Ring.

Honey Bear: Hello

INC: Hi sweetie. Hey, do we still need strawberries?

Honey Bear: Yes. Yes we do.

INC: Great, I’m at the supermarket now.

Honey Bear: What are you buying at the supermarket

INC: Strawberries.

I considered justifying that one by claiming that it was a homage to Charlie Sheen’s career defining cameo in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, but then I decided that that would be far and away the most pretentious thing I have ever said or written on this blog or anywhere ever.




I am very, very fortunate to have found and married the one woman in the world who finds this stuff funny.

Posts named after obscure Amy Grant songs part 1: Hats

Possibly the most stunned I have ever seen Honey Bear look was a few months ago, when we were discussing why I never wear sunglasses. The simple reason is that the only pair that I haven’t lost or broken are about twice as wide as my face and they look ridiculous. I concluded this explanation by saying “You know me, I’m all about the fashion.”

Honey Bear is rarely lost for words but there were a few moments of silence whilst she tried to work out where to start unpacking the sheer absurdity of that statement.

In that context, I shouldn’t be surprised that my choice of hats occasionally gives rise to some mild sledging. Possibly the best and most memorable example was supplied by he whom I am not. We were engaged in some mild pre-season soccer training when Craig noticed that I was wearing a baseball cap. The exact cap can be seen by looking at that profile photo over there. The conversation went something like this:

Craig: Why are you wearing a hat? It’s not even sunny.

INC: I was having a bad hair day

Craig: So what, you thought you’d make it a bad hat day?

That was pretty clearly a case of sledging. Sometimes, though, it’s harder to tell. For example, last Sunday I found myself ordering coffee and a muffin in a rather nice café. Usually, the whole issue of baseball caps would not arise in this situation, but the very nice café was located in the middle of the Melbourne Zoo and I was with two small children who tend to notice the inconsistency if I insist that they must wear hats because it’s sunny and I myself go “free hair”.

So, towards the end of the ordering and paying for stuff process, I had the following discussion with the very nice lady at the cash register.

Very nice lady: Are you sitting outside?

INC: Yes

Very nice lady: I’ll bring your coffees out soon

INC: Should I take one of these numbers on sticks?

Very nice lady: No, that’s okay, I’ll just look for that hat.

The very nice lady said it so politely that I couldn’t be entirely certain, but instinct stronger than reason tells me I was being mocked.

So I went and looked at giraffes.

Three stupid ideas that I had over the weekend

Locks for toilets
A fabulous invention for anyone who is sick of trying to guess what their toddler has thrown in there today. This simple combination lock for the lid will allow for hours of stress free time listening to the jangle of keys as the happy toddler who has once again found some impossible means of getting them out of a handbag wanders freely around the house.

This will work wonderfully until you get drunk, can’t remember the combination and it all goes gross.

Perhaps I could just shut the bathroom door?


New day time talk show
This will not be all that different from the existing self help type shows where struggling couples go and seek help to improve their relationship, except that the host will skip all that gentle southern charm and deep empathy and instead will sit around eating fried chicken and randomly swearing at his guests. Hopefully,the couple will forget their differences and turn on the host instead. Even if this doesn’t work, it will still make for pretty good television.

Now I just need a title. I’m thinking “Dr Philth”


Open Tzatziki night
Science has found that there is a massive correlation between fondness for extreme sports and a love of yoghurt-based dips. Make your dining experience a lit more exciting next time you eat at my Greek restaurant* by turning up to our Open Tzatziki night. We won’t actually make or stock any Tzatziki that night. The Tzatziki you find yourself eating will have been made by one of the competitors in our Australia’s Next Top Tzatziki contest.

Can you find excitement like this at any other dining establishment? No sir you can not.







* not something that actually exists. Perhaps this is fortunate.

World's most rhetorical quiz

Q1. Ms Fits has way too much spare time
A. True
B. False Really clearly utterly true


Q2 I should be
A. offended by that site’s very existence
B. oddly flattered by the attention
C. exceptionally miffed by the sheer lack of effort involved
D. quietly relieved that it is impossible to leave comments

Q3 Will I continue to read Ms Fits’ blog anyway?
A. Yes
B. Absolutely
C. Of course, as she is highly amusing and indisputably as nice as pie*

Q4 Should I stop this now
A.Yes
B.Yes
C.Yes, it’s ridiculous, seriously dude right now etc


There will not be a question 5, as I still don’t know what question 5 is.






* Pecan

Some Easter lyrics

All alone in an evil dream I see myself up high
And it’s me over you with my arms spread open wide
I try to run from the place I know that I can be set free
Come away, come away, there’s a sweet voice calling me,
To the killing tree…

I look around at all the faces who are passing me,
And I run, try to run, with nails in my feet
All the time I was building castles on a sandy beach
Leading you, leading you, to a place I’d never been,
To the killing tree…

I know what you’re asking me and I don’t want to give,
‘Cause it’s safe, and I know, ‘cause I’ve been here all these years
All the precious pain I hold, without it there is fear
And I’m afraid, when you say, that you’ll get me out of here
To the killing tree…

So now I run to you and I move from night to day
For to live, I must die, and there’s still no other way
I see you in an evil dream you took my place up high
Now it’s you, over me, with your arms spread open wide
On the killing tree…

From “The Killing Tree”, © Paul Coleman 1998

You gotta love this city (of Adelaide)

And I do.

I realise that bizarre and random song selections on a supermarket PA system are not unique to Adelaide, but I'm pretty sure no one does it better than the Woolworths near my sister-in-law's place. Anyone who can go straight from "I want it that way" to Amy Grant's "Every Heartbeat" is a wacky music genius. The same supermarket also deserves endless credit for playing a country version of Shania Twain's "That don't impress me much" that I had never before heard outside of Nashville.

I should also note that one of the many benefits of being in a city where I know about 8 people is that there was absolutely no reason not to entertain my son with a particularly enthusiastic Backstreet Boys singalong session in the tinned vegetables aisle. I may have to shop at Coles next time I visit.

While we're acknowledging great musical moments in Adelaide, I was baffled to learn that the local primary school choir has a repetoire that includes Shannon Noll's "Shine". My niece, who is in the choir, finds this ridiculous. I didn't get to see a live performance but she did play me a recorded version of it. The massed group of 10 year olds earnestly singing "This is our new national anthem" was truly unintentional comedy at its finest.

Moving on to other fine features of Adelaide, of all the great Chinese Restaurant names in the world, "Wok on Fire" deserves to make the top ten.

And finally, whilst this is in no way specific to any South Austrlian capital city, go and see "The Illusionist".

Now.