Steve Jobs Is Not Quite Omnipotent Yet

I love my iPod. My little 30GB friend has about 3,700 songs, most of which I moved from my own CD collection. Many more I got from ransacking my friends' CDs and I've even bought about 500 from the iTunes Music Store.

I think the iTunes Store is fabulous. When the worship team at church plays songs I like I've usually been able to find versions of them there, like Blessed Be Your Name and Revelation Song. When I wanted to flesh out my New Wave collection earlier this year, I was able to find gems from Altered Images and Visage. And the Listeners Also Bought list has helped me "discover" indie bands like Bloc Party, Camera Obscura and Arctic Monkeys that I never would have known about otherwise.

That's not to say the iTunes Store is perfect. As much as I've gotten from it, the things I HAVEN'T been able to get just drive me absolutely nuts. Here's three in order of likely relevance to the rest of the world.

For one, there's no Beatles music. Supposedly this stems from some copyright issue between the two Apples -- the one that makes iPods and the Beatles' record label. Talk about a case of "Fine -- if I don't get my way I'll just take my bat and ball and go home." And as always, its the customers who suffer while the two corporate entities slug it out.

The copyright thing was resolved last year, and despite persistent rumors that the Beatles catalog is coming to iTunes there hasn't been anything official yet. Seriously, are neither of you profitable enough to budge on whatever the remaining sticking points are here? Somehow I've still managed to get 48 Beatles tracks on my iPod, more than any other artist even though I don't really consider them my favorite band. But many thanks to Apple & Apple for making it a pain in the butt.

Two, you can't get the classic 1984 famine relief song Do They Know It's Christmas? unless you spend $16.99 on a compilation album with 17 other Christmas songs. There was some issue with iTunes over the re-recording of that song in 2004 by Band Aid 20 that eventually got resolved, but I haven't been able to find any explanation for this bundling. It reminds me of when David Beckham signed with the L.A. Galaxy, and the Colorado Rapids would only sell tickets to the Galaxy game as part of a package with tickets to other games that people didn't care about as much. Forcing people to buy stuff they don't want to get something they do is somehow supposed to be good for business?

Editor's Note: I went to that Rapids-Galaxy game wearing my authentic Beckham ManU jersey, even though Beckham himself didn't make the trip because of his ankle injury. The Rapids won 3-0 and my son, Zak, had a good time. And no, I didn't buy the package with the other games. :P

It's entirely possible that nobody but me cares about this last one. China by Red Rockers is a PHENOMENAL New Wave song. The video is vintage early '80s from the haircuts to the clothes to the "dance moves." Tragically, this too is unavailable even though Red Rockers are apparently still alive and kicking in some incarnation.

I realize these may be a little nit-picky. But after years and years of being the scrappy underdog Apple's turned into a bit of an 800-pound gorilla in their own right. With that territory comes increased expectations and increased criticism when those expectations aren't met.

Maybe Steve Jobs should call Bill Gates for his perspective on what it feels like.

The Challenge of Being Yourself

My wife, Danelle, watches some really awful stuff on television. So by association, if I want to spend time with her I also end up watching some pretty bad stuff.

It used to just be bad sitcoms. She's the only person I've ever known to actually sit through an entire episode of Small Wonder. But when so-called "reality TV" came on the scene, she'd found her true genre.

It started, of course, with MTV's The Real World. To make many of you feel really, really old, that show is now on its TWENTIETH season.

Then Survivor came along and took things to another level, then Big Brother, The Bachelor, etc. But she's also been a loyal viewer of some truly forgettable efforts.

I can't argue with her logic. She says she uses her brain all day long at work, and she doesn't choose her entertainment options to be challenged. We all have guilty pleasures.

I read once that the Los Angeles Times refused to refer to that type of programming as "reality television," and instead used the clumsier-but-arguably-more-appropriate term "staged, unscripted television." Which leads me to my observation.

The biggest challenge some of these shows seem to face between their first and second seasons is when the subjects stop actually BEING themselves and start PLAYING themselves. It absolutely killed The Osbournes. I think Ace of Cakes is struggling with it. It hurt America's Next Top Model when Tyra Banks became just a caricature of herself, but at least she's pretty enough (and each season's new crop of aspiring models are crazy enough) to keep people tuning in.

The latest offering to see if it's up to the task is Gene Simmons' Family Jewels, which is about to start its second season. As messed-up as you might expect this family to be given the principals -- KISS frontman Simmons and his partner of 24 years, Playboy playmate and Skinemax legend Shannon Tweed -- their two kids seem remarkably well-adjusted.

The son, Nick, has a very quick and sharp wit. And daughter Sophie is going to probably force her dad to invest in a .45 and a shovel before too long. Both children seem totally unfazed by who they and their parents "are," probably because their circumstances and upbringing are completely normal to them. They had no other significant frame of reference before they did this show.

As for Simmons and Tweed, once you get past their pasts and their complete disregard for the institution of marriage (which seems to be more his doing than hers) you get the shocking insight that -- surprise! -- celebrities are real people with foibles and flaws just like the rest of us. Except that most of the rest of us don't have a huge room devoted to our own licensed merchandise. Or have stripper poles delivered to our houses. But I digress...

Now they've gotten to watch a whole season of themselves, and absorb all the associated expectations and projections about how the media and fans see them. Will they be able to succeed where others have failed? Does being famous before you do one of these programs make it easier or harder?

As a blogger, will I one day have to deal with this issue myself? I've already joked with my family more than once since starting this thing that "oh, I'm going to have to blog about that." Once I start LOOKING for things to blog about and HOPING that a thought I have is interesting or something in my life is entertaining, have I fallen into the same trap?

Only time will tell for both the Simmons-Tweed clan and me. A&E only cares if you take the time to find out about one of us.

Maybe if I had my own toothbrush...

My Field Trip to the DAM

I'm not a huge art guy, but I like a little culture once in a while. So I went to the Denver Art Museum yesterday to see the Inspiring Impressionism exhibit with my mother-in-law.

Editor's Note: My mother-in-law is actually very, very cool. Moved here from Texas when we had our daughter a few years ago. And she's an artist herself. And she's a DAM member, so I got in free. So quit snickering.

The exhibit had a couple of works by Claude Monet, who's always been my favorite painter for no particular reason. Like I said, I'm not a huge art guy. He's my wife's favorite artist, too. Her mom says that's because impressionism is so "approachable." I think that's her way of saying that it's like the Coors Light of art movements. Thanks for shattering my carefully crafted self-view of being somewhat cultured, Nana.

The exhibit was pretty neat. I liked the concept of showing impressionist paintings next to earlier works that may have inspired them. That provided some nice context.

After we were done with that exhibit we went and checked out the rest of the museum's new building. There were some things I liked, such as a painting of aspens from the Herbert Bayer collection on the lower level. On the one hand it must be pretty cool to have an entire museum collection of your works. On the other, it must say something when they put it in the basement.

There was also a piece of art by a guy named Robert Irwin that was pretty interesting. The best thing to call it would probably be a sculpture, except it wasn't just the physical piece itself that made it art. It was hung and lighted in such a way that it cast some really intriguing shadows that were part of the work. The museum labeled it as using acrylic for the medium. I thought they should have said acrylic and light. Maybe that's why I'm not a curator.

There were, of course, some things that I just couldn't relate to. Like a piece titled something like "Large Red Slab" that was -- you guessed it -- a large, red slab. And some sort of video that included sound effects and dialogue from Star Trek with footage of the artist, a young kid and some old guy on a moonscape set. The old guy was lip synching to a female voice. The whole thing reminded me of a Sprockets skit. I guess these would be like the Achel Trappist Extras of the art world.

The lesson, if any, is probably that art is subjective. There's nothing wrong with working that part of your brain once in a while and wrestling with what makes something "good" or "bad." The exercise has value regardless of your conclusion. Unless, of course, it makes you miss the UEFA Champions League final...

Yes, I'm still bitter about that.

An Unexpected and Disappointing Flaw

So I set my Tivo to record this afternoon's UEFA Champions League final between Manchester United and Chelsea. I'm not a huge fan of soccer as a spectator sport, but I do like to watch it played at the highest level from time to time.

The game is tight. Very tight. Goes to extra time tied 1-1. It's still 1-1 after the first extra session, and that was ALL I SAW.

Tivo had decided the game couldn't possibly last more than 2 1/2 hours, so that's all it recorded.

WHAT?!?!

You mean to tell me that the technology doesn't exist for Tivo to know when a program -- especially a live program like a sporting event -- hasn't actually ended at the time it's "supposed" to? Tivo is "smart" enough to start recording other children's programs just because we get things like Backyardigans and Pinky Dinky Doo for our kids, but it's not smart enough to know that THE BEST PART OF SOMETHING IT'S ACTUALLY CURRENTLY RECORDING HASN'T HAPPENED YET?!?!

Now, I know I can tell Tivo to record longer. But that's just improving my odds of getting the whole thing and not necessarily guaranteeing it unless I pad the recording of every live broadcast by three hours. And even that wouldn't necessarily always work.

And Tivo's supposed to be all about convenience -- why should anyone have to deal with a non-intuitive workaround like this?

Seriously, Tivo people. If we can make these, you can figure this out.

For those who actually care how the match ended, you can read about it here. I had to. :(

Taking the Plunge

OK, that's obviously not the REAL Nestea plunge. But anybody in their late 30s to early 40s who watched as much TV as a kid as I did probably gets the reference.

And that's pretty much the best way to describe this venture for me. Whether it will be as refreshing as the iced tea version remains to be seen. But the sensation right now is similar to what it must feel like right before you hit the water -- equal parts apprehension and anticipation.

Will anybody read this? If they don't, does it matter? If they do, will they like it? If they don't, does it matter? The kind of stuff that's probably kept generations of bloggers before me up at night. Well, not exactly GENERATIONS. But you get the point.

Anyway, welcome to the latest slice of self-indulgence to grace the interwebs. Except if you believe the statistics, about a zillion more blogs have already been created since I started writing this post. So that "latest" designation doesn't even apply any more. But the self-indulgent part still does, so at least I got that goin' for me. It's not quite total consciousness, but it's a start.

I'm not really sure where this is going to go yet, if anywhere. Or why I decided to start this now. So I'll spare you all any further navel contemplation for the moment, publish this bad boy and revel in having carved out my own little piece of the blogosphere.

Keep those cards and letters coming!