I just got a glimpse of the future
Going public for the first time this week, Silicone Valley-based Naratte announced its new technology, which it calls Zoosh, will enable cell phones, tablets, iPods, computers, televisions, cash registers and many other computer-type devices to communicate with each other using ultrasonic technology. Zoosh literally uses the speaker on a device as a transmitter and the microphone on the other device acts as a receiver.
What does this mean to the average person?
Such communication will allow phones to become wallets, as people can make payments simply by placing their phones near a Zoosh-enabled cash register. People can also store gift cards, store loyalty cards and coupons on their devices, which can also be read upon check out.
It also allows for people to quickly exchange contact information or computer files that need to be swapped. As someone who has to think hard about how to add a contact into my cell phone, this is a much needed technology.
The technology has countless other possible uses – including ticket redemption, gym check-in and proximity-based gaming – but the big one is likely to be what takes place at the check-out counter.
Right now, I primarily use a debit card, but I would gladly welcome the opportunity to simplify that process by simply waving my phone next to the cash register. Debit cards are easy, but they can often be frustrating when the card reader asks more questions than the gas pump (Would anyone have been able to make sense of this statement 15 years ago?).
Naratte estimates contactless payments like this will reach $300 billion by 2014. That’s a staggering figure, but one I don’t doubt. Through the ages, the whole point of technology has been to make life easier for people – although I’m sure those who don’t like computers would disagree – and Zoosh seems to do that.
I was able to get a glimpse of this technology, which is scheduled for implementation in Chicago, Ill., at the end of the July, because Naratte’s chief development officer, Byron Alsberg, is a childhood friend of mine from Neshkoro I recently caught up with for the first time in nearly 14 years when I went to San Francisco in January.
Byron told me a little bit about Zoosh then, but he was limited on what he could tell me until the company was ready to go public with it. He sent me a “Launch Deck,” which is the fancy Californian phrase for “press packet” us Midwesterners won’t start using for at least another five years, outlining many of the details about his company’s endeavor.
He said other companies are coming out with technologies that will allow for similar transfer of information, but Zoosh is the only one that employs ultrasonic technology, which he said is fast, secure, reliable and, probably most importantly, inexpensive. Nearly all devices and apps will just need free updates to use it, and many vendors will be able to implement it for no cost at all, and at a max, for $30. He said many companies with popular apps are currently in the process of integrating Zoosh into them.
Hopefully this future isn’t too scary for people. I did ask Byron if he knew when Skynet will go online. He didn’t have an answer, but he did say all of his company’s software does carry Asimov’s Three Laws of Robotics inside. I’m pretty sure Skynet’s technology did too, though.
Oh well. Life could literally be a blast with a robot-started nuclear holocaust.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, June 24, 2011.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Challenges always come with moves, despite hopes
Over the course of many moves during my lifetime, I’ve learned each one comes with at least one challenge. I was hoping to avoid any challenges in moving from an apartment in Plover my family and I have lived in for the last three years to a new house we built in Stevens Point. I should have known better.
Things went well at first, as one advantage into moving into an unoccupied home is you don’t have to wait until the previous tenants get out, which meant we were able to move items over to the house over the course of more than a month, easing the burden we had to bear for the big moving day on Thursday, June 9. And with the help of some friends, we were able to clear out our garage and a storage unit in May.
Moving day seemed to go well, too. It was just my wife, Jenny, and me, and a truck and trailer lent to us by our friends. We emptied out nearly all the big items in our apartment and had it unloaded in our house by 11 a.m. We figured the remaining stuff would go over in the next load.
Almost all of it did, starting with our washer and dryer. While Jenny was able to help me carry out and unload all other big items, the washer and dryer were too heavy. So we did so in short bursts in which we lifted it one or two inches off the ground and as far as possible. Going down stairs, we relied mainly on gravity as we banged down from one step to the next.
After unloading them in the garage, we left them there until a friend could help me carry them in. Although I’m not mechanically inclined, I was able to figure out how to hook them up, much to my delight.
It wasn’t until we used the washer that we discovered all was not well. A crack in the bottom of the washer – one that probably occurred during the move – caused water to spill out onto the floor, as well as my heart in hope of completing a perfect move.
The washer was eight years old, so I wasn’t completely upset we had broken it. We knew the lifespan on these things didn’t exceed much longer. I was more upset about going through the hassle of moving it, only to have it mean nothing. It’s worse than writing an article, not saving it and having the power go out as you are about to complete it. Any journalist who says this has never happened to him or her probably isn’t telling the truth.
We bought a new washer later that day, much to Jenny’s pleasure since it was a front-loader she’s always wanted. I was satisfied knowing she didn’t need a matching dryer.
The other challenge occurred both before and after the move: finding, and then installing, a mailbox.
As long as I’ve been living on my own, I’ve never owned a mailbox. It’s always been apartment mailboxes or post office boxes.
For months, we shopped for a mailbox. We liked some of them, but couldn’t fathom spending $80 or more just for the box. For that price, it should pay the bills it’s mainly used for.
After moving and knowing we needed to install one soon, we decided to go with a less expensive one, even if it didn’t have the look we wanted.
Installing it over the weekend had its own challenge: bedrock. We live in a rocky area, and the first hole I started to dig ended when I encountered a large rock halfway down. Not wanting to bother with the hassle of digging around it, I started over. Although I didn’t encounter any big rocks, I met enough smaller ones that the process took a lot longer and was much messier than I anticipated.
In the larger picture, those challenges weren’t horrible. But we’re not done, yet. We still have pictures to hang on the walls. That’s never fun.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, June 17, 2011.
Things went well at first, as one advantage into moving into an unoccupied home is you don’t have to wait until the previous tenants get out, which meant we were able to move items over to the house over the course of more than a month, easing the burden we had to bear for the big moving day on Thursday, June 9. And with the help of some friends, we were able to clear out our garage and a storage unit in May.
Moving day seemed to go well, too. It was just my wife, Jenny, and me, and a truck and trailer lent to us by our friends. We emptied out nearly all the big items in our apartment and had it unloaded in our house by 11 a.m. We figured the remaining stuff would go over in the next load.
Almost all of it did, starting with our washer and dryer. While Jenny was able to help me carry out and unload all other big items, the washer and dryer were too heavy. So we did so in short bursts in which we lifted it one or two inches off the ground and as far as possible. Going down stairs, we relied mainly on gravity as we banged down from one step to the next.
After unloading them in the garage, we left them there until a friend could help me carry them in. Although I’m not mechanically inclined, I was able to figure out how to hook them up, much to my delight.
It wasn’t until we used the washer that we discovered all was not well. A crack in the bottom of the washer – one that probably occurred during the move – caused water to spill out onto the floor, as well as my heart in hope of completing a perfect move.
The washer was eight years old, so I wasn’t completely upset we had broken it. We knew the lifespan on these things didn’t exceed much longer. I was more upset about going through the hassle of moving it, only to have it mean nothing. It’s worse than writing an article, not saving it and having the power go out as you are about to complete it. Any journalist who says this has never happened to him or her probably isn’t telling the truth.
We bought a new washer later that day, much to Jenny’s pleasure since it was a front-loader she’s always wanted. I was satisfied knowing she didn’t need a matching dryer.
The other challenge occurred both before and after the move: finding, and then installing, a mailbox.
As long as I’ve been living on my own, I’ve never owned a mailbox. It’s always been apartment mailboxes or post office boxes.
For months, we shopped for a mailbox. We liked some of them, but couldn’t fathom spending $80 or more just for the box. For that price, it should pay the bills it’s mainly used for.
After moving and knowing we needed to install one soon, we decided to go with a less expensive one, even if it didn’t have the look we wanted.
Installing it over the weekend had its own challenge: bedrock. We live in a rocky area, and the first hole I started to dig ended when I encountered a large rock halfway down. Not wanting to bother with the hassle of digging around it, I started over. Although I didn’t encounter any big rocks, I met enough smaller ones that the process took a lot longer and was much messier than I anticipated.
In the larger picture, those challenges weren’t horrible. But we’re not done, yet. We still have pictures to hang on the walls. That’s never fun.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, June 17, 2011.
Human training wheels don’t work for learning kids
Only when I decided I was no longer going to be human training wheels did my 6-year-old son, Braden, learn how to ride his bike.
Braden received the bike, an 18-inch-wheeled BMX-styled Huffy, for his fifth birthday, and it came with a set of normal training wheels.
The training wheels stayed on the bike through the spring and summer, but they came off in the fall. “You’re a big boy now, and you need to ride your bike without the training wheels,” I told him.
After an unsuccessful lesson in the fall – one I didn’t expect to be successful given it was the first time he was trying – he lost interest in his bike and didn’t ask to try again.
The bike went unused this spring, too, because its tires lost their air over the winter and I never got around to inflating them until just several weeks ago. I was not going to let the new air in those tires go to waste, and decided Braden was going to learn how to ride bike this summer.
The first four lessons were failures. Braden enjoyed it when I followed right behind him, making sure he didn’t fall over, but anytime I let him try on his own, he fell over and lost immediate interest in pursuing the endeavor. I made him continue, but it was a vicious cycle that kept repeating itself.
I tried having him try to balance his bike while sitting on it and not moving. I even threw in a little “Star Wars.” “Feel the force flowing through your body,” I told him. The Force was weak in him, though, as he couldn’t balance the bike.
I tried bribes. “If you ride your bike, we can call Grandpa and let him know you did it,” I said, knowing he loves to call Grandpa with good news. It’s much better than when we call Grandpa to let him know Braden was being bad.
And I tried mental tricks on him. “I was 5 when I learned how to ride a bike, and you’re 6 and can’t do it,” I told him, hoping this technique would work, although psychiatrists would probably not recommend it.
It didn’t, but it allowed me to remember how my dad had taught me how to ride a bike. Although my memory is sketchy, I remember it taking just one lesson. He simply put me on the bike, pushed me for a little bit and then let me go. After a few crashes, I realized they hurt and if I didn’t want that occurring, I had to learn how to ride on my own.
I took Braden on the grass and told him I wasn’t going to be his human training wheels anymore. He was either going to fall or he was going to learn how to ride it on his own.
Just as it had occurred when I was 5, several pushes later, he was riding the bike on his own. By the end of the lesson, he was going across our yard, the driveway and the neighboring yard. It made me proud. It also made him proud, since I had told him he needed to learn how to do it by the end of summer. He managed to do so one day after his school got out for the year.
Now, he just needs to learn how to completely tie his shoes on his own to have a successful summer.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, June 10, 2011.
Braden received the bike, an 18-inch-wheeled BMX-styled Huffy, for his fifth birthday, and it came with a set of normal training wheels.
The training wheels stayed on the bike through the spring and summer, but they came off in the fall. “You’re a big boy now, and you need to ride your bike without the training wheels,” I told him.
After an unsuccessful lesson in the fall – one I didn’t expect to be successful given it was the first time he was trying – he lost interest in his bike and didn’t ask to try again.
The bike went unused this spring, too, because its tires lost their air over the winter and I never got around to inflating them until just several weeks ago. I was not going to let the new air in those tires go to waste, and decided Braden was going to learn how to ride bike this summer.
The first four lessons were failures. Braden enjoyed it when I followed right behind him, making sure he didn’t fall over, but anytime I let him try on his own, he fell over and lost immediate interest in pursuing the endeavor. I made him continue, but it was a vicious cycle that kept repeating itself.
I tried having him try to balance his bike while sitting on it and not moving. I even threw in a little “Star Wars.” “Feel the force flowing through your body,” I told him. The Force was weak in him, though, as he couldn’t balance the bike.
I tried bribes. “If you ride your bike, we can call Grandpa and let him know you did it,” I said, knowing he loves to call Grandpa with good news. It’s much better than when we call Grandpa to let him know Braden was being bad.
And I tried mental tricks on him. “I was 5 when I learned how to ride a bike, and you’re 6 and can’t do it,” I told him, hoping this technique would work, although psychiatrists would probably not recommend it.
It didn’t, but it allowed me to remember how my dad had taught me how to ride a bike. Although my memory is sketchy, I remember it taking just one lesson. He simply put me on the bike, pushed me for a little bit and then let me go. After a few crashes, I realized they hurt and if I didn’t want that occurring, I had to learn how to ride on my own.
I took Braden on the grass and told him I wasn’t going to be his human training wheels anymore. He was either going to fall or he was going to learn how to ride it on his own.
Just as it had occurred when I was 5, several pushes later, he was riding the bike on his own. By the end of the lesson, he was going across our yard, the driveway and the neighboring yard. It made me proud. It also made him proud, since I had told him he needed to learn how to do it by the end of summer. He managed to do so one day after his school got out for the year.
Now, he just needs to learn how to completely tie his shoes on his own to have a successful summer.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, June 10, 2011.
New house will be open for people to see during Parade of Homes
My family’s new home, which we’re not even living in yet, will be open to the public Friday through Monday, June 3-6, during the Golden Sands Homebuilder’s Association’s (GSHBA) annual Parade of Homes.
Located at 2324 Falcons Cove in the Eagle Point subdivision on the north side of Stevens Point, the home was built by Heartland Custom Homes of Plover.
The main reason it’s on the tour is timing. The timing of our decision to build the home, and Heartland’s schedule in finishing it, coincided with the Parade of Homes. Since many GSHBA builders, such as Heartland, like to feature homes in the parade, it made perfect sense for the builder to feature our home.
When first asked if we would like to do so, my wife and I hesitated. We weren’t building a big fancy house, the kind we associated as with being in these events.
In fact, our house was pretty simple, in our opinion. The 1,660-square-foot ranch-style home with three bedrooms and two bathrooms compares well with the average home in that it’s large enough to suit our needs and not too big to be out of our means.
But Jason Jones and Brice Nelson, the Heartland representatives who have made the home-building process a breeze for us, told us Heartland would rather feature this type of home than a more lavish one that would be unaffordable for most people. Sure, they are nice to look at, but you don’t want to give people the impression you only cater to the rich, they said.
That made sense to us, so we agreed to be one of 19 houses from 15 different GSHBA builders on the Parade of Homes.
While this decision has delayed us moving into our home by several weeks – as we probably could have moved in last week already – it’s allowed us to take our time in making sure everything is ready for the move-in. In the last several weeks, my wife and I have moved everything over from a storage unit and our garage, as well as some of the things from our apartment we don’t use on an everyday basis.
We’ve hung window shades and curtains, finished touch-up painting, built a new desk and living room furniture (coffee table, end table and TV stand), organized the kitchen and completed the two bathrooms.
Most importantly, we finished our son Braden’s room. An Indiana Jones-themed room, it has three posters of the first three “Indiana Jones” films. The fourth one was not included because I refuse to accept its existence, although Braden likes it. It also has some archaeologist-type décor, such as a globe and an Egyptian Sphinx.
My wife and I both decided the room is cooler than anything we had growing up. Braden thinks so, too, and can’t wait to move in. We’re just hoping he can keep it cleaner than his current room.
We will be there for some of the Parade of Homes, mainly to tell people how smooth the building process was for us. Before we started, we heard from many people about how it can often hurt marriages because of disagreements about how things should be done.
But Heartland made everything so simple by clearly laying out our options. The only disagreement my wife and I ever had dealt with selecting a refrigerator, and that had nothing to do with Heartland. Ultimately, my wife won that one, and I’m glad she did, because it’s one of the coolest things – literally and metamorphically – about the house.
More information about GSHBA and the Parade of Homes, including a map of the parade homes, can be found under the “Parade of Homes” link online at www.gshba.org or by calling 715-341-3536.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, June 3, 2011.
Located at 2324 Falcons Cove in the Eagle Point subdivision on the north side of Stevens Point, the home was built by Heartland Custom Homes of Plover.
The main reason it’s on the tour is timing. The timing of our decision to build the home, and Heartland’s schedule in finishing it, coincided with the Parade of Homes. Since many GSHBA builders, such as Heartland, like to feature homes in the parade, it made perfect sense for the builder to feature our home.
When first asked if we would like to do so, my wife and I hesitated. We weren’t building a big fancy house, the kind we associated as with being in these events.
In fact, our house was pretty simple, in our opinion. The 1,660-square-foot ranch-style home with three bedrooms and two bathrooms compares well with the average home in that it’s large enough to suit our needs and not too big to be out of our means.
But Jason Jones and Brice Nelson, the Heartland representatives who have made the home-building process a breeze for us, told us Heartland would rather feature this type of home than a more lavish one that would be unaffordable for most people. Sure, they are nice to look at, but you don’t want to give people the impression you only cater to the rich, they said.
That made sense to us, so we agreed to be one of 19 houses from 15 different GSHBA builders on the Parade of Homes.
While this decision has delayed us moving into our home by several weeks – as we probably could have moved in last week already – it’s allowed us to take our time in making sure everything is ready for the move-in. In the last several weeks, my wife and I have moved everything over from a storage unit and our garage, as well as some of the things from our apartment we don’t use on an everyday basis.
We’ve hung window shades and curtains, finished touch-up painting, built a new desk and living room furniture (coffee table, end table and TV stand), organized the kitchen and completed the two bathrooms.
Most importantly, we finished our son Braden’s room. An Indiana Jones-themed room, it has three posters of the first three “Indiana Jones” films. The fourth one was not included because I refuse to accept its existence, although Braden likes it. It also has some archaeologist-type décor, such as a globe and an Egyptian Sphinx.
My wife and I both decided the room is cooler than anything we had growing up. Braden thinks so, too, and can’t wait to move in. We’re just hoping he can keep it cleaner than his current room.
We will be there for some of the Parade of Homes, mainly to tell people how smooth the building process was for us. Before we started, we heard from many people about how it can often hurt marriages because of disagreements about how things should be done.
But Heartland made everything so simple by clearly laying out our options. The only disagreement my wife and I ever had dealt with selecting a refrigerator, and that had nothing to do with Heartland. Ultimately, my wife won that one, and I’m glad she did, because it’s one of the coolest things – literally and metamorphically – about the house.
More information about GSHBA and the Parade of Homes, including a map of the parade homes, can be found under the “Parade of Homes” link online at www.gshba.org or by calling 715-341-3536.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, June 3, 2011.
Life can have habit of taking some people many places to live
While some people may claim one city or town as the only place they’ve ever resided, others may have a long list. I am one of those fortunate, or unfortunate, people, depending on how you look at it.
While I was born in Wild Rose, my parents originally lived in Wautoma. During my toddler years, a job took them to Peshtigo and then Oconto.
The only thing I remember about Peshtigo was being in the car when my parents brought my younger sister, Kelly, home from the hospital. I have quite a few Oconto memories, with one of the earliest being a time when I sat on the side of the road throwing rocks at vehicles passing by, much to the dismay of a local police officer and then my parents.
In kindergarten, we moved back to Wautoma, where we stayed until I completed fifth grade, although we lived in four different rural locations during those years.
I spent my junior high years in Neshkoro, a town I had already been familiar with because my dad worked there and it was where I was enlisted in Boy Scouts. The school was so small that two grades shared a classroom and teacher.
At the end of eighth grade, we moved to Berlin, where I spent my high school years. While I liked Berlin, I never felt like I was part of the community or the school; probably because I didn’t share the experiences growing up there my classmates had.
So, I was happy to move to Ripon after high school to attend college, although I came back to Berlin often for a job and during the summers.
With no real job prospects after college graduation, I got an apartment in Oshkosh, mainly because I wanted to live in a bigger city than the ones I had lived in growing up. I lived in Oshkosh for only one summer, though, as a job as news editor of the Waushara Argus took me back to Wautoma that September.
I lived in Wautoma for five years until proposing to my future wife, Jenny. For some reason neither of us can really figure out, we decided to get an apartment together in Ripon, where we lived for one year. Hating the drive, we moved to Redgranite, home of the state rock (Funny story: A friend’s brother once asked, “What is the state rock?” upon entering the village and seeing a sign that said “Home of the State Rock.”).
We chose Redgranite because it was a point that cut down both of our commutes – Jenny to Oshkosh for school and me to Wautoma for work. It was a weak reason, though, because neither of us cared for the village.
Fortunately, one year later and shortly after getting married, we bought our first house, in Wautoma of course, in 2003. We loved the house and thought we’d live out our lives there.
But life is funny, as a golden job opportunity for Jenny at Marshfield Clinic was too good to pass up. So, we put our house up for sale. It took more than a year to sell, during which time I found a job at The Gazette and in which we commuted from Wautoma to Marshfield and Stevens Point, often together.
When we finally sold our house, we decided to get an apartment in Plover, temporarily for one year, as we looked in depth at permanent options.
That year extended to three years, but in two weeks our stint in Plover will end when we move to a new home on the north side of Stevens Point.
I’ve made a lot of friends and learned many things by living in so many places. I would love to definitely say the rest of my life will be spent in one location, learning about the benefits and negatives of stationary life, but I’ve learned enough from my nomadic lifestyle to know that may not be the case. You never know where life may take you.
In my case, probably back to Wautoma. It seems to draw me back enough.
****
Orginally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, May 27, 2011.
While I was born in Wild Rose, my parents originally lived in Wautoma. During my toddler years, a job took them to Peshtigo and then Oconto.
The only thing I remember about Peshtigo was being in the car when my parents brought my younger sister, Kelly, home from the hospital. I have quite a few Oconto memories, with one of the earliest being a time when I sat on the side of the road throwing rocks at vehicles passing by, much to the dismay of a local police officer and then my parents.
In kindergarten, we moved back to Wautoma, where we stayed until I completed fifth grade, although we lived in four different rural locations during those years.
I spent my junior high years in Neshkoro, a town I had already been familiar with because my dad worked there and it was where I was enlisted in Boy Scouts. The school was so small that two grades shared a classroom and teacher.
At the end of eighth grade, we moved to Berlin, where I spent my high school years. While I liked Berlin, I never felt like I was part of the community or the school; probably because I didn’t share the experiences growing up there my classmates had.
So, I was happy to move to Ripon after high school to attend college, although I came back to Berlin often for a job and during the summers.
With no real job prospects after college graduation, I got an apartment in Oshkosh, mainly because I wanted to live in a bigger city than the ones I had lived in growing up. I lived in Oshkosh for only one summer, though, as a job as news editor of the Waushara Argus took me back to Wautoma that September.
I lived in Wautoma for five years until proposing to my future wife, Jenny. For some reason neither of us can really figure out, we decided to get an apartment together in Ripon, where we lived for one year. Hating the drive, we moved to Redgranite, home of the state rock (Funny story: A friend’s brother once asked, “What is the state rock?” upon entering the village and seeing a sign that said “Home of the State Rock.”).
We chose Redgranite because it was a point that cut down both of our commutes – Jenny to Oshkosh for school and me to Wautoma for work. It was a weak reason, though, because neither of us cared for the village.
Fortunately, one year later and shortly after getting married, we bought our first house, in Wautoma of course, in 2003. We loved the house and thought we’d live out our lives there.
But life is funny, as a golden job opportunity for Jenny at Marshfield Clinic was too good to pass up. So, we put our house up for sale. It took more than a year to sell, during which time I found a job at The Gazette and in which we commuted from Wautoma to Marshfield and Stevens Point, often together.
When we finally sold our house, we decided to get an apartment in Plover, temporarily for one year, as we looked in depth at permanent options.
That year extended to three years, but in two weeks our stint in Plover will end when we move to a new home on the north side of Stevens Point.
I’ve made a lot of friends and learned many things by living in so many places. I would love to definitely say the rest of my life will be spent in one location, learning about the benefits and negatives of stationary life, but I’ve learned enough from my nomadic lifestyle to know that may not be the case. You never know where life may take you.
In my case, probably back to Wautoma. It seems to draw me back enough.
****
Orginally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, May 27, 2011.
Signnapping committed in front of Gazette office
A crime was committed in front of The Gazette office at 1024 Main St., Stevens Point.
The victim – a virgin Portage County Gazette sandwich board sign.
The crime – the sign was signnapped from the sidewalk while making its debut performance.
The perpetrator – most likely some college student who thought it would be cool to have a Gazette sandwich board sign decorating his room, although at this time police officers have no official leads.
After The Gazette moved from Church Street to Main Street last summer, we’ve had a number of people ask us “Where exactly on Main Street are you located?” Although a large sign on the front of the building says “The Portage County Gazette,” many people still couldn’t find us, calling us from their cell phones and asking what businesses we were next to on Main Street.
Realizing it must be difficult for many people to read the big sign, we decided to get a white sandwich board sign with our name and logo on it. By the time we received it last fall, though, people had figured out where we were and it was no longer needed.
So it sat in our lobby at 1024 Main St. throughout the fall, winter and most of the spring.
Last Thursday, when some staff members were cleaning the lobby, they decided the sign needed to be used for its original purpose. Plus, they thought, the weather was finally nice and maybe it would like to catch some of it.
So they put it outside on the sidewalk.
Since bringing the sign back in at the end of the day wasn’t a normal part of the daily routine, it remained there after all the staff members left for the day.
It most likely will never see the lobby again, as some time between 5 p.m. Thursday and 10 a.m. Friday it disappeared.
When a Gazette staffer realized it had been left outside Friday morning, he went to check on it, discovering the signnapping.
After a search through the Gazette offices, as well as with the hair salon next door, it dawned on us that the sign was probably now some college kid’s trophy, decorating his or her dorm room much like a dead deer head might decorate some hunter’s garage.
We could be wrong with our theory, but that seems like the most logical explanation. Even the police officer who took our report said we’re probably right. I just hope he doesn’t spend any more time investigating the sign’s disappearance, as pretty much every crime that’s ever been committed deserves more attention than this one.
But that won’t stop me from writing about it, as maybe a few words in this column about it might inspire someone who has seen the sign as a trophy to call us, letting us know who the perpetrator is and where it can be found. Or maybe the perpetrator will read this, realize he or she has stepped onto an ugly criminal path that could lead to bad things down the road, and will anonymously return it to our front sidewalk.
Perhaps, a reward may be offered for its return, such as a case of beer for those 21 or older, or a case of Ramen noodles for those who aren’t. Either one are probably way more valuable than a sign that holds worth for only one business in the entire world.
Even if we don’t get it back, The Gazette has learned a valuable lesson. If we need to get rid of something, all we need to do is put a Gazette logo on it and set it out on our front sidewalk. Maybe we can finally say goodbye to the broken newsstand box in our backroom holding a Gazette dated Aug. 4, 2000.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, May 20, 2011.
The victim – a virgin Portage County Gazette sandwich board sign.
The crime – the sign was signnapped from the sidewalk while making its debut performance.
The perpetrator – most likely some college student who thought it would be cool to have a Gazette sandwich board sign decorating his room, although at this time police officers have no official leads.
After The Gazette moved from Church Street to Main Street last summer, we’ve had a number of people ask us “Where exactly on Main Street are you located?” Although a large sign on the front of the building says “The Portage County Gazette,” many people still couldn’t find us, calling us from their cell phones and asking what businesses we were next to on Main Street.
Realizing it must be difficult for many people to read the big sign, we decided to get a white sandwich board sign with our name and logo on it. By the time we received it last fall, though, people had figured out where we were and it was no longer needed.
So it sat in our lobby at 1024 Main St. throughout the fall, winter and most of the spring.
Last Thursday, when some staff members were cleaning the lobby, they decided the sign needed to be used for its original purpose. Plus, they thought, the weather was finally nice and maybe it would like to catch some of it.
So they put it outside on the sidewalk.
Since bringing the sign back in at the end of the day wasn’t a normal part of the daily routine, it remained there after all the staff members left for the day.
It most likely will never see the lobby again, as some time between 5 p.m. Thursday and 10 a.m. Friday it disappeared.
When a Gazette staffer realized it had been left outside Friday morning, he went to check on it, discovering the signnapping.
After a search through the Gazette offices, as well as with the hair salon next door, it dawned on us that the sign was probably now some college kid’s trophy, decorating his or her dorm room much like a dead deer head might decorate some hunter’s garage.
We could be wrong with our theory, but that seems like the most logical explanation. Even the police officer who took our report said we’re probably right. I just hope he doesn’t spend any more time investigating the sign’s disappearance, as pretty much every crime that’s ever been committed deserves more attention than this one.
But that won’t stop me from writing about it, as maybe a few words in this column about it might inspire someone who has seen the sign as a trophy to call us, letting us know who the perpetrator is and where it can be found. Or maybe the perpetrator will read this, realize he or she has stepped onto an ugly criminal path that could lead to bad things down the road, and will anonymously return it to our front sidewalk.
Perhaps, a reward may be offered for its return, such as a case of beer for those 21 or older, or a case of Ramen noodles for those who aren’t. Either one are probably way more valuable than a sign that holds worth for only one business in the entire world.
Even if we don’t get it back, The Gazette has learned a valuable lesson. If we need to get rid of something, all we need to do is put a Gazette logo on it and set it out on our front sidewalk. Maybe we can finally say goodbye to the broken newsstand box in our backroom holding a Gazette dated Aug. 4, 2000.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, May 20, 2011.
Foo Fighters make best album of career with ‘Wasting Light’
When Kurt Cobain killed himself 17 years ago, it appeared as though the Nirvana legacy would only live on through the music the band recorded during those few years the band existed. But its drummer, Dave Grohl, has kept going with his own band, Foo Fighters, which just released an album nearly every bit as good as “Bleach,” “Nevermind” and “In Utero,” Nirvana’s groundbreaking and monumental albums.
This new album, “Wasting Light,” is the band’s follow-up to its 2007 album, “Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace,” which claimed several Grammys in 2008.
Unlike that album, which featured a balanced mix of rockers and acoustic numbers, this one is pure rock. It opens with Grohl shouting “These are my famous last words! My number’s up, bridges all burned.” And the adrenaline doesn’t stop over the course of 11 songs and 47 minutes.
The next song, the first single, “Rope,” became only the second song to debut atop Billboard’s Rock Songs chart, and with good reason. The hook is probably catchier than the common cold at a school following Christmas break. “Give me some rope, I’m coming loose. I’m hanging on you,” Grohl sings, inspiring me to actually want to give him some rope to help the poor guy.
The third song, “Dear Rosemary,” is my favorite, most likely because it features background vocals by Bob Mould, lead singer of Hüsker Dü, a 1980s punk rock band that never achieved the success it deserved but which influenced many of the biggest “alternative rock” bands of the 1990s, such as Nirvana.
The next song, “White Limo,” is unlike anything else on the album, and in the entire Foo Fighters’ catalog, because it showcases Grohl’s hardcore influences from bands he grew up listening to and playing with while growing up in Washington, D.C.
The midsection of the album features some solid rockers, like “These Days” and “Back & Forth,” but the final two songs, “I Should Have Known” and “Walk” are two of the finest songs in the Foo Fighters discography.
“I Should Have Known” reunites Grohl with Nirvana bassist Krist Novoselic, which is the first time the two have performed together on an album since Nirvana’s tragic ending. It’s appropriate the two are on the song together, as it may be about Cobain’s suicide, although it’s probably about a failed relationship with a woman. In either case, the song makes you yearn for more semi-Nirvana reunions.
“Walk,” though, could be the song that helps Foo Fighters sell millions of copies of “Wasting Light.” It’s the type of rock song we may hear on the radio, at bars and in any place with music playing for years to come. In fact, it’s featured in the new “Thor” film, which recently earned $66 million in its opening weekend.
“Wasting Light” is Foo Fighters’ seventh album, and bands are not supposed to make their best ones this late into their careers, especially when the career started in the ashes of a band as legendary as Nirvana.
Hopefully, when the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame considers the band for induction years from now, it’ll remember this accomplishment.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, May 13, 2011.
This new album, “Wasting Light,” is the band’s follow-up to its 2007 album, “Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace,” which claimed several Grammys in 2008.
Unlike that album, which featured a balanced mix of rockers and acoustic numbers, this one is pure rock. It opens with Grohl shouting “These are my famous last words! My number’s up, bridges all burned.” And the adrenaline doesn’t stop over the course of 11 songs and 47 minutes.
The next song, the first single, “Rope,” became only the second song to debut atop Billboard’s Rock Songs chart, and with good reason. The hook is probably catchier than the common cold at a school following Christmas break. “Give me some rope, I’m coming loose. I’m hanging on you,” Grohl sings, inspiring me to actually want to give him some rope to help the poor guy.
The third song, “Dear Rosemary,” is my favorite, most likely because it features background vocals by Bob Mould, lead singer of Hüsker Dü, a 1980s punk rock band that never achieved the success it deserved but which influenced many of the biggest “alternative rock” bands of the 1990s, such as Nirvana.
The next song, “White Limo,” is unlike anything else on the album, and in the entire Foo Fighters’ catalog, because it showcases Grohl’s hardcore influences from bands he grew up listening to and playing with while growing up in Washington, D.C.
The midsection of the album features some solid rockers, like “These Days” and “Back & Forth,” but the final two songs, “I Should Have Known” and “Walk” are two of the finest songs in the Foo Fighters discography.
“I Should Have Known” reunites Grohl with Nirvana bassist Krist Novoselic, which is the first time the two have performed together on an album since Nirvana’s tragic ending. It’s appropriate the two are on the song together, as it may be about Cobain’s suicide, although it’s probably about a failed relationship with a woman. In either case, the song makes you yearn for more semi-Nirvana reunions.
“Walk,” though, could be the song that helps Foo Fighters sell millions of copies of “Wasting Light.” It’s the type of rock song we may hear on the radio, at bars and in any place with music playing for years to come. In fact, it’s featured in the new “Thor” film, which recently earned $66 million in its opening weekend.
“Wasting Light” is Foo Fighters’ seventh album, and bands are not supposed to make their best ones this late into their careers, especially when the career started in the ashes of a band as legendary as Nirvana.
Hopefully, when the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame considers the band for induction years from now, it’ll remember this accomplishment.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, May 13, 2011.
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