RyanHarne.com

Because I don’t read the NY Times as frequently as I’d like and because I was already planning a The Office purge, I hadn’t noticed the writer’s strike until mid-December when it was actually referenced in conversation. At that point, it occurred to me that the rerun episodes of The Office that NBC was posting online were not because of a holiday break that the network takes but rather because no one was creating new material.

Now that I’ve spent weeks of watching my Office DVDs ad nauseum, I actually wouldn’t mind some mediocre new episodes. In this spirit of longing, I adventured to do some reading on the strike which, naturally, led me to the Wikipedia article. Once I had wrapped my mind around the issues, namely how to divvy out the revenue generated from online viewings, I made the connections that probably were already making ground in my grasp of the issues. I don’t claim ultimate legitimacy in my rulings, nor can I enforce my beliefs upon network executives or their yes-men assistants, but I will apply the common wisdom readily accessible to us working folk.

I was very excited when NBC first began posting episodes of The Office online for 24/7 viewing after it initially aired. I don’t like watching television on television, so this option seemed very appealing. Plus, my Apple Pro Keyboard has a mute key perfect for those planted ads that show up every 8 or 13 minutes. It also makes sense that at least enough revenue comes in from this channel to offset the fewer viewers on standard television outlets, if not a greater amount of revenue than necessary to justify the venture.

So, if the same amount of money (or, likely, more) is coming in with the addition of internet viewers, why should writers not receive some percentage of those new dollars if their standard over-air viewership is declining proportionally? Typically, media higher-ups have been attacking the freedoms of consumers (DRM is certainly the most poignant example) and I find it quite alarming that they are now suggesting policies that could destroy some of its own. Even velociraptors don’t resort to cannibalism, as I was encouraged to recall from my movie viewing today.

Frankly, there’s enough well-designed and executed comedy and drama media out there to last me another 5 lifetimes. I don’t need any new episodes of The Office to hold me over when I could just as easily acquire some wonderful I Love Lucy or The Odd Couple or Wild & Crazy Kids shows for my evening enjoyment. All the same, I’m with the writers on this one and would gladly sit down to some of their new material should they make amends with their bosses. Let’s face it, Jon Stewart is not funny without the thousands of cue cards pushing him along.

My first large-scale soda-tasting experience, my first time watching a sea lion entertain himself, my first time using a keyboard & ball mouse all made out of steel - oh, Atlanta! And that was only the start.

There is apparently a basset hound magnet in my body somewhere, possibly in my hand, perfect for the petting. When I arrived back in Blacksburg, I turned my head to the side & down while sitting at my desk chair; I was involuntarily looking for a basset to pet. I enjoy their composed nature and how it encourages those around to lay back and just relax. I don’t enjoy their drool which can launch through the air if they shake their head. Maybe that’s a gradually acquired taste.

The lauding indoctrination of Coca-Cola was more enjoyable than tainted by domineering propaganda. You were just as free to race through and exit having guzzled gallons of free Coke as you were to pause and read all of the historic artifacts and watch the documentary video, as Becky and I did. Plus, if you pace yourself through the museum, you discover a variety of interactive features, like the exhibit that asked you to “Give it a try” only to find that it did nothing or the exhibit that wanted you to share a Coca-Cola experience to the company via a computer controlled by a steel keyboard (using the spacebar required concentration and a deliberate thud in the center - typos are the norm).

Atlanta is nice. I was actually making the trip to see if 18 months of postcards was a fruitful decision.

While doing some walking-distance errands this morning, I had to run from place to place in order to not freeze. Gloves, ear warmers, arctic-certified cycling jacket were not enough to ward off icicle formation and organ shutdown - running was necessary to stimulate pain in my body so that blood would be encouraged to travel more freely. And, oh, the pain it stimulated. I haven’t ran in years, except when escaping disaster or rescuing babies from burning buildings. My legs didn’t respond correctly to the running motion and the result was awkward: me running in place while my body moved at a walking pace. Then my shins wanted to complain for a while. Super.

It’s also cold & windy enough here that cycling outdoors is out of the picture, even rollers would be terrible with the potential for sweat to freeze. Blegh. Plus, I’m taking a trip Friday and the anticipation has thrust me into a killing-time anxiety. At least one of the activities I have engaged in to waste away the hours before Friday has been cleaning the house. It’s a mixed success. If only I could keep the floors this clean all year round.