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me agin the bees

Bzzzzzzz....
By the time you’re reading this, I’m no longer in India, but whizzing through the skies bound home. That’s OK though, because through the magic of scheduled posts – I could have entries lined up for weeks (if I could write that much, that is). So, if you don’t mind the Pulp Fiction timeline, here’s something written Thursday in India, which is Wednesday in the US, and posted Friday – figure that out, Tarrantino.

There’s this huge beehive clinging to one of the branches of an immense, sprawling tree just outside my window at the hotel. I’m fascinated by this beehive, I don’t know why. Maybe because it’s easily the biggest beehive I’ve ever seen, I mean, this thing is rockin’ big… like bee Los Angeles or something. When I first saw it, I thought it was just one of those tree-tumor things, a large growth or abnormality in the branch – but upon closer inspection through my camera’s zoom, it was clearly a bee metropolis; a sagging mass of squirming bees, busy doing whatever bees do (humping and making honey?). I don’t know why, but I have the strongest urge to chuck something at this bee city. Every day my hotel room comes stocked with three thick-skinned Indian fruits that resemble oranges or tangerines or something – these, I figure, would make the perfect beehive ICBM.

This morning, on the way down to breakfast, I tried to mentally gauge the distance from the balcony to the hive – just to see if my poor throwing arm may even have a shot at a direct hit, and I convinced myself that, yes, I could hit it if my aim was on. What’s more, the distance is great enough that I think I could upset the bees and still have ample “run away” time before they even knew where the projectile came from. So, I’ve imagined the scenario in my head: A direct hit, and thousands of disturbed bees swarm out in search of vengeance. Meanwhile, I safely retreat back into my room. The only way I’d really do it was if there was someone here to film the event – since one of my chief concerns in life, for whatever reason, is documenting crap like that and posting it to my blog as if people would be interested. Alas, there is no one here to film it, and when I mentioned my fantasy to my wife she didn’t really understand, “stupid” is how I think she chose to describe it. So, in place a super-cool video where I successfully smack a huge Indian beehive with an orange – here’s a picture of a huge Indian beehive:

Stop taunting me!

If you were here with me, you’d understand, right? You’d film me as I hurled fruit at this hospital-visit-waiting-to-happen, right? Yeah, that’s what I thought. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that I’ve managed to surround myself with friends as retarded as I am who would happily watch me put myself in harm’s way for a cheap laugh.

Goodnight.

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breaking ground

Onto the new.
In my ongoing effort to prevent this now somewhat “mature” blog from sliding into repetitive boredom, I’m trying to establish a few “new” styles of entry that’ll hopefully help me write more interesting material, and give me something to “fall back” on when the creative juices aren’t exactly flowing. I know, how “creative” is this thing? Not very; but that still isn’t stopping me from trying to make it a little more engaging to the hardy few who do try and read regularly. So, in addition to my “one liners” idea, I’m going to again debut something I think may be worthwhile – new entries that look back on past entries and re-hash or re-examine them. I know that going back and talking again about something that’s already been talked about may not strike you as particularly “new” or original, but I think it has potential to be interesting for me from a writer’s perspective – and that, folks, is what it’s all about if I intend to continue filling pages with words. So, today I’ll kick off the new hotness part II – the “one (or two) year ago today” themed entry.

It just so happens that December 8th’s entry last year was my “best of 2005” roundup, and I didn’t feel there was much more I could write on that – so I cheated, and used December 7th’s entry (hey, I’m all timezone-impaired right now anyway, gimme a break). So, here, in another stunning display of my stylesheet mastery, is December 7th’s entry – one year ago today.

Liar.
Happy Monday to us all. Writing this, it’s Sunday morning. I think we’re gonna use the day to put up the Christmas tree and hang lights on the house. I’d like to get out of my slump and finish the porch in the backyard, since the stone-saw magically starting working again yesterday. I had a feeling you know, that it’s brokenness wasn’t final. So I decided to put it in the garage and wait, just let it relax, maybe not cut bricks for a couple weeks. And just as I suspected, when I plugged her in yesterday to see if she had self-healed, she fired up right away. So, now I have no excuse not to finish… time to get off my butt and get out there. Cut the remaining bricks, make the final adjustments to the sprinkler-head positions, then do the cleanup, topsoil, and finally sod and plants. It may seem like a lot, but having a finite amount of steps until I can be “done” is really exciting to me.

The above is the centerpiece of this entry – another letter Shaine managed to scan in. You can read the backstory here. Looks like I switched to typing in this letter, probably because my handwriting was so deplorable in 6th grade. Anyway, where the last letter was only a tad on the fantasy side, with this one I’ve decided to weave an entire narrative of lies. I mean, read it; it reads like I was making up each sentence as I went. The part about Kristina was true, at least the gist of it. She got mixed up in some deep stuff early on when we moved. Maybe I’ll get into the whole Kristina thing one day, it’d make an interesting story I think. The part about the VCR and cable in my room was true too. I remember saving a lot of allowance and mowing more than a few lawns to buy that Goldstar VCR, $99 is a lot for a 6th grader. I loved that VCR, it enabled us to rent and watch Rebecca De Mornay’s And God Created Woman… remember the pool table scene?… I do.

As for the letter’s main subject, fighting, there are some loose connections to real events I suppose. I do remember the candy-stealing incident of that 1st Halloween… and I did somehow end up with the perp’s candy at the end, but I don’t think there was a single punch thrown in between those events. As for the supposed four other fights, they are bald-face lies. The one with Chad may have been based loosely on an afterschool tussle that actually did happen, but I certainly wasn’t involved. Seems I concocted all sorts of brave tales to impress my long-distance best-bud. I mean, I can recount nearly every fight I’ve been in, and I surely would’ve remembered five fights in one night… anyway, I was a pacifist. Well, if anything, I guess it shows I’ve always had a knack for narrative…

Sunday’s over, back to work in the AM… the weekend happens too fast y’allz, the stench of cubicle is still fresh in my mind from Friday afternoon – and I’ll be punching in again in a mere twelve hours. I did, however, make good use of the day. I put up our new dartboard (in accordance with the standard British pub rules, of course), cleaned/organized the garage, finally put away the Halloween decorations, and put the lights up on the house. We pulled down the tree and in-house baubles, but didn’t get around to setting it all up. Tomorrow night perhaps. Putting up the Christmas lights is always a chore, but today it was OK. Up on the roof in the cool weather, me neighbor across the way was also putting up lights… we shared some light-putting-up banter from rooftop-to-rooftop. At one point, our other neighbor came out and we were all chatting about thisnthat, and it struck me how “suburban” it all was. Here we all our, decorating our houses, shouting to each other from rooftops to driveways, sharing waves and smiles… and I deemed it all very good and enjoyable. In the end we all told each other our respective houses “…look(ed) good man,” and went about our business. Nice. Very homey.

This week is the Arcade Fire show in San Fran. I’m really looking forward to it. I hope they are as good live as I’ve heard, and that they’re worth the drive. Now I’m off to bed, goodnight.

So how do we take this full-circle? The reason I chose the 7th’s entry was the part about making up junk for Shaine – I figured I could write more about that than I could recapping my top 10. I was always out to impress Shaine, he was older than me – and a good measure “cooler” too. In 5th grade, we became an inseparable duo of mischievous friends. So, it’s only natural that, when my family moved away at the end of that year – I wanted to keep in touch, and, use my new cross-country anonymity to spin impressive yarns. So, apparently, I decided to send letters with completely made-up goings-on, inventing fanciful stories of daring-do and lawlessness. I mean, this is a guy who sent me three Mexican Redhair seeds through the USPS, years before I’d discover the virtues of weed on my own. In turn, I’d send him fireworks – which were abundant in the south. I don’t know how long we corresponded after I moved, but I can remember calling him every so often, especially on his birthday, which I remember to this day, and chatting about what was going on.

I can remember talking to Shaine once, and him telling me that he’d let his hair grow to his butt. I remember him telling me that his family had moved up north, and that he’d been smoking “marijuana,” something that, at the time, equated him with serial killers to me. It seemed like he’d become quite the badass since I’d left, and the scared child within me was kinda glad I’d managed to get away before joining him in his descent to juvie. Alas, I would make my own descent only a few years later – but in my pre-hoodlum innocence, who would’ve known? We stayed friends – despite my slower-than-his ramp into true adolescence – and we talked and corresponded for at least a few years. And, believe it or not, we still keep in touch to this day – although my keeping-in-touch skills are admittedly lacking sorely.

Remember how much I was sweating my India presentation? Well, it went great – better than expected actually; much better. Having that under my belt kind of “legitimizes” this trip to me, a trip for which, other than the presentation, the sole purpose was some kind of “meet and greet.” So, my guilt over not preparing and even coming in the first place has been soothed… and I’m back to feeling good about what I did and why I did it. That’s good, right? Yes; I think that’s good.

Leaving this country in just about twelve hours, I bid you farewell.

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lessons for the dunce

Molded like clay.
Two paragraphs on India and work-thought inspired by India, then I’ll politely say “goodnight” and you’ll all be left wanting.

Honestly, I can’t believe how easily I adjusted to this timezone. Nearly twelve hours out from sunny Northern California – but I took to it in just one night of solid sleep. This, and other similarly easy transitions to varied time zones, have convinced me that I am a body built for world travel. I read once that if you’re outside in the sunshine as much as possible during the waking hours, you’re body realizes that its internal clock is off and you should be awake during that time. Maybe spending Sunday tooling around the countryside in the awesome South Indian weather actually helped me adjust so quickly. I can only hope that the transition back to west coast time goes as swimmingly.

Staying thematic for once, I was thinking to day how much I appreciate the different “learnings” I’ve gained from my current employment. No, not just the “professional development,” which has been invaluable, they tell me, but moreso the cultural and “eye-opening” type learnings I’ve been able to pick up. Travel and exposure to a host of different cultures have really granted me a better worldview, I think. I mean, more than just understand a few scattered sentences in Mandarin, I’ve been exposed to peoples and traditions I’d’ve been wholly ignorant to otherwise. In some ways, I think that the more “eyes” through which you can look at the world, the better. Knowing, for instance, that things taken for granted by Joe America are luxuries to people elsewhere makes a man more humble, and, more importantly, better equips you to relate to folks from all over. Who’d have ever thought that I’d be sitting outside in India, enjoying the weather while a young Indian man in the courtyard below sings the Eagles’ “Lying Eyes” in perfect English, writing a paragraph singing the praises of my gainful employment. I’m here to tell you that I’ve decided I’m riding this one out – I know a good thing when I’ve found it.

Goodnight.

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monkeys and soggy cigarettes

What a goofy mug.
To start my first blog while in India, a brief roundup of my impressions of the place thus far. India is: A symphony of honking horns. Free-range cattle, heads-bent to gutters looking for trash to eat. Dirty barefoot people walking dirty dirt streets. Riiich rich and pooor poor. More tropical than I’d imagined. Still very much British. Where I first heard the Strokes’ leaked 3rd full-length. Friendly. Yummy food that doesn’t fulfill many ne’er-do-well-wishers’ predictions of 24/7 toilet-guarding. Broken, dusty, randomly-laid out roads that seem to have been paved as a need to arrive at a new place arose. Families living in tarp-tents erected alongside the road wherever a spare piece of land can be found, outside cooking breakfast in the morning over a smoking fire.

Bought some cigarettes while I was here, y’know, to “sample” the local Indian offerings. They pretty much have the same ass-flavor as American, Taiwanese, and Chinese cigarettes. However, I found myself drawn to them a little too much – kind of blowing the “sampling” thing out the window and trading it for a different verb, “smoking.” So tonight I doused them with water and threw them away – thus rendering them unsalvageable and certainly un-smokeable. Good for me, bad for the Indian tobacco industry and millions of barefoot workers that sweat to bring cancer to the lit-up masses. I was planning to insert a picture of the sodden, broken cigarettes strewn about a table below this paragraph, but the dang five-star hotel housekeeping staff is too efficient and liberated me of my trash before I could do it – sorry, I had planned it to be quite the artsy offering.

And, from above, you likely guesses that the Strokes’ 3rd LP has leaked in its entirety – and I’ve been filling my hotel room with the horribly treble-heavy laptop speaker rendition of it for the past couple days. As for a review, I’m going to reserve an opinion for when I can actually hear it through once with some bottom-end to it – but from a catchy melody perspective I think it’s gonna be a winner. They’re a band I’d like to see live again, as I really enjoyed the Halloween-eve show we caught in the city a couple years back before Room On Fire dropped. Our concert attendance has really dropped off since we decided the frequent trips to the city just weren’t paying off, and reserved them for big or important shows. I am, however, looking forward to seeing the Wolf Parade in January – that one was sufficiently important to motivate both Ben and I to buy the gas, fight the traffic, and find the parking.

Sometimes I love traveling; I think partly because I know my dad did so much traveling when he was younger, and I feel like I somehow following in his footsteps. I would love to be able to have been some of the places he’s talked about, and I feel like my job has at least helped me experience a bit of the “world traveler” bag. Sometimes, waking up in a hotel room with no one to report to and absolutely nothing on an agenda can be a really liberating feeling – miles away from any “real” commitments and real people, for that matter. Especially here, where I can wake up and throw open my balcony door to the sounds of running water and some kinda tropical birds – really makes a guy feel disconnected and content.

Now that I’ve been assured you read my entire boring post, I’ll drop a link for you: here are some pictures from my first few days in India.

Until tomorrow, goodnight.

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cream of ’05

Thirty-three and a third.
Hey music fans. Huh? You’re not a music fan? Better just leave this one alone then and wait till tomorrow’s post, because it’s about as musicy as it gets.

To begin with, this is post #472, yesterday’s post was #565 – meaning I first drafted this nearly 100 entries ago. It’s been through some work since then; some shuffling and a couple drop/add sessions. But, I’ve been working on it so long, tweaking this and fine-tuning that, and I’m finally happy with how it turned out.

Y’know, I would’ve thought that last year would’ve been a tougher year to pick a “top 10” albums, because for some reason I look back on it as a really good year for music. But, when I really think about it – the reason I see it as a particularly amazing year for tunes is just because it’s the year the Funeral came out. In reality though, 2005 was an amazing year for music. The year brought so many great albums, it was extremely hard to pick only ten… so, I picked 25 instead. And, this time, I decided to give a little blurb on why each of the top-15 LPs landed where it did (please don’t underestimate the stylesheet-wizardry that made this all possible). Enjoy:

15. Aqueduct – I Sold Gold

So people say it’s cheesy and thin; so it’s been on car commercials; so I “discovered” it on the OC – big deal, I still like it. Maybe it’s my affinity for the one-man-band, part of that little hidden dream in me – a closet Elliot Smith or Emitt Rhodes just holding out on his first stellar album. So, I don’t care what you say about Aqueduct, how low you rate it, because I like it – and that’s what counts.


14. The Cloud Room – The Cloud Room

I guess this is what you could call a latecomer for the two-not-not-nickel, but I still had plenty of time to digest it and decide that is definitely deserved a place in my list. For some reason, I lump this album with Clap Your Hands Say Yeah! (not because of musical content, just for some I got ’em at the same time and they were in competition in my player reason) – but the Clouds just beat CYSHY all around for me. Sure, every song sounds a like some other band – but that’s not always a bad thing.


13. The Ladies and Gentlemen – Small Sins

So the guy likes to whisper, who cares. The craftsmanship here is undeniable. Short little pieces of one-man-band poptronica with the catchiest tunes. I liked this album as soon as it hit my ears, which is something of a rarity for me. With a sound that’s just “good,” not overly-complex or dense, I bet you’ll like it at first blush too.


12. M83 – The Dawn Will Heal Us

I love albums with no words, partially because most people don’t. Sharaun hates music with no words, says she can’t get into it. To me, some of the best music is that which can stand on it’s own without lyrics. And hey, bad lyrics can ruin great music – so wordlessness may be your best bet if you’re no Jim Morrison. Anyway, with each moody atmospheric track, this disc does not disappoint.


11. Clor – Clor

Squeaky, blippy, synth-pop-punk, vocals that, at times, recall Malkmus, and bouncy little tunes freshly thawed from the 1980s freezer. Oh, what, that’s all you have on this one D? You’d think 11th on the list would warrant a little more color, but I suppose if you can say it in a sentence then perhaps a sentence is all ya need.


10. The Decemberists – Picaresque

While not as strikingly brilliant as their first two full-lengths, Colin and crew’s 3rd strike at the iron is a slow burn. Although the mood set with Infanta doesn’t exactly permeate the entire album, there are more than enough rollicking sea-chanteis to keep the Ship In A Bottle set smelling pitch and salt. Actually, the more I go back and listen to this album, the better it sounds. Guess I just have a thing for mariner songs peppered with words from long-forgotten thesauruses.


9. Broken Social Scene – Broken Social Scene

You Forgot It In People was outstanding. So when Beehives turned out to be crap, I was really bummed. I think that’s what made me ignore this album for so long after actually getting it. I had it, just sitting there, waiting. I even started listening to it a couple times, but never paid it a proper amount of attention. However, when I finally did get around to listening to it with a critical ear – I found myself grinning ear-to-ear. Awash in buzzy guitars and singalong harmonies, turns out it’s just as good as You Forgot It In People, if not better.


8. Bloc Party – Silent Alarm

Hey, FM programming managers, check it out! Another one of those 2005-sounding bands sounding like that hot 2005-sound. Pick a catchy single and get it in heavy rotation stat. These guys have undeniable commercial potential, and as heads-in-our-arses indie elitists, we sometimes need to recognize that’s not always the kiss of death. This is good, folks, and even if you hate your kid sister singing hooks from your latest records – you gotta admit that this is one fresh effort. So get it, or listen for the 4:4 remix coming to a skating rink near you.


7. The Bravery – The Bravery

What can I say? 2005 saw the revival of 1980s synth-rock, and, to me, the Bravery did it best. This is rock music for everyone from the shrieking TRL set to the thick-rimmed-glasses, refuse-to- dance crowd; the kind of synth-heavy rock that’s dancey enough to make everyone happy. And, although there was no shortage of it this year – I like this go at it the most.


6. Ratatat – Ratatat

I downloaded this album because I like the name, honestly – it wasn’t one of those read-a-review-first games of catch-up. Luckily, inside were some tunes just as awesome as the name. Another collection for the lyric-phobic, but decidedly more hip-hop bent at times. Set in my memory as a February trip to Taiwan – this album will always recall 2005 to me.


5. Little Brazil – You and Me

OK, so, commence finger-pointing and mocking. I know, I know, but I can’t help it. I really liked this album. It was kind of a “heat of the moment” thing, as, listening to it now, I can somewhat see through whatever it was that blinded me at first. Anyway, it still deserves a spot on my list, because, after all, I wore the grooves off this short album for a memorable little slice of 2005.


4. The New Pornographers – Twin Cinema

Know what? I didn’t even like this album. Nope; not at all. But, so many people online kept ranting and raving about it, I thought I’d go back and give it another chance to impress me. Call it peer-pressure or whatever, but that re-listen did the trick – and I was hooked. I love Newman’s song style, it’s an original thing today – unlike much else of what’s out there, and this album doesn’t disappoint on that. Who knew though, that an album you don’t even like at first can end up as your 4th best on the year – go figure.


3. The Most Serene Republic – Underwater Cinematographer

I have no idea why this album didn’t get more recognition, it’s absolutely brilliant, and, in reality, could just as easily change places with #2 and I’d be just as happy with the list. Reminding me a little bit of the Broken Social Scene’s best moments (which makes sense, seeing as they share BSS’s label), the record is wall-to-wall good without exception. For some reason tho, it went over without much fanfare. Don’t let that fool ya, it’s outstanding.


2. Architecture in Helsinki – If We Die

I left this blurb for last, because, for whatever reason, I couldn’t think of much to say about this album. I mean, it’s been nearly a year since I was taken in by it – so even my young mind has grown superlative-foggy. However, I only need a fresh listen to remember what it is I love about this album. I love the fact that people ask me if I’m listening to an album by Sesame Street’s Elmo, love the “gayness” of the songs (not the gaynesss-meaning-happy gayness, but the two-dudes-holding-hands gayness). Whimsical, fantastic, and even retarded at times – it never fails to make me smile. Now, how’s that for a review? “Retarded?”


1. Wolf Parade – Apologies to the Queen Mary

When I first heard this album, I never thought it’d end up at #1 on my list. But, deeper listening brought on nothing but undying love. Near the beginning of the year, I can remember saying, “It’s really gonna take something amazing to knock that Architecture in Helsinki album out of my #1 spot.” It did.


And now, the shortlist of albums that were at one time either in the top-15 and slowly bubbled off the top, or hovering near the bottom waiting to receive their number – which never came. All these efforts come highly recommended, and in reality could’ve been on the list had I compiled it on a different night or published it a week or two later. So, if you happen to be Mr. Banhart or Mr. Stevens, please don’t be disappointed you only made the Honorable Mention list – you’re still alright in my book:

Now, for a twist, and because I’m on a roll, the top 3 albums that weren’t released in 2005 (and therefore wouldn’t be eligible for the above list) but were discovered by me in 2005:

And, even though I didn’t do “blurbs” about the “honorable mentions” and “discovereds,” I felt I had to comment on the Friday Night in San Francisco album. You may think, being the self-proclaimed music aficionado that I am, I would’ve heard this album long ago when I was in the frenzied-exploratory phase that every burgeoning music nut goes through. You know, right about the time you finally “discover” Bob Marley, acknowledge Dylan’s genius despite his whine, and realize that Miles Davis is a God. But, I didn’t discover this album until this year (The Kooper & Bloomfield is really just more Super Session, so you could consider me familiar with that already). Suffice it to say that I should’ve known about it earlier, ’cause it truly rocks tits.

OK folks, I’m completely typed-out. Happy listening, take care. (First “true” entry from India tomorrow.)

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something new

Rambling fancy around the globe.
I’m going to try something new today, something I think may be fun and help alleviate “bloggers block” in times of trouble (which, thankfully, has not been a problem lately). I’ll call it “one liners,” and entries of this kind will get their own little category in the sidebar. Hopefully, this’ll be something quick and dirty I can do when time is tight and/or I don’t care to write. Today, however, is neither of those – but I had to kick it off somehow.

I’ve decided to grow a beard, at least until I get tired of it or get enough criticism about it.

Right now I feel anxious, nervous, and restless. Not for me, for my brother.

I can’t help smiling every time I see my wife’s big fat belly.

7pm and I haven’t yet begun to pack; it’s because I don’t want to go.

I feel guilty leaving Sharaun alone for another week of travel.

Our refrigerator broke this week, and we’re currently storing all our perishables in a cooler full of ice on the back porch.

I’ve not yet bought anything for my wife for Christmas, and am afraid I won’t have time enough to get her something meaningful.

9pm and I’m completely packed and ready to go; it’s because I have to.

Well, that’s it; the new thang. I can’t really claim it’s 100% original, as I stole the general idea from largehearted boy’s “shorties.”

Goodnight and, until India, goodbye.

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bathrooms the size of coffins

Applies to the tech tag, or something.
You’ll have to excuse the terse entries this week – daily writing is competing with travel arrangements and the probably-getting-too-much-love “best of 2005” entry. On the bright side, I think I’m still on track to publish that next week, so it won’t be sucking all my resources. Be ready, it’s bound to include luminary passages of prose unparalleled by any other “best of 2005” list; oh, and it has little pictures of album covers, too. Seriously, wait for it.

In preparation for my trip this weekend, and ultimately to my dismay, I sat down today to review my flight plans. I knew the trip to India wasn’t just a hop, skip, and jump – but I guess I wasn’t really aware of just how abysmal it really was. I began adding up the time: four hours to Chicago, wait an hour and a half for eight more to Frankfurt, wait two and a half more in the terminal for another eight and a half in the air before landing in Bangalore. All told it’s twenty-five hours of travel, not counting the time getting to the airport and awaiting the initial flight. The way back is worse, courtesy of mean headwinds and a tacked on trip to visit my folks in Oregon: twenty-eight hours. That’s a lot of flying and sitting and pooping in bathrooms the size of coffins.

Ever since I decided to kill our landline phone, my DirecTV TiVo has been nagging me daily with a warning that it’s not made its daily call in X days. Back when I was researching adding an extra hard drive to my TiVo, I remember reading about a way to hack the thing to work wirelessly – and in the process enable all sorts of cool features like extracting recorded programs to your PC for archive purposes. Back then, I was paranoid enough about just adding another drive to increase my recording capacity – I didn’t want to brick my beloved TiVo – so I stuck to just the drive upgrade. However, the daily call nagging got me interested again and I began hunting down information on hacking my box to enable all the cool features that standalone TiVos have: networking, USB, recording extraction, and thankfully – no daily call nag.

So, I proceeded to scour forums and pages on hacking my particular box and software version. Turns out it’s dead-simple, or at least it seems to be from the various guides out there. I was super impressed with the ease of the hard drive upgrade – the hackers are extremely industrious and have spent their own time making their labor-of-love tools really user-friendly and pretty idiot-proof for someone with a modicum of PC skillz. So, I guess I shouldn’t have been too surprised when I found a detailed website showing exactly how to do exactly what I wanted to do to my TiVo in a few relatively simple steps. I downloaded the utilities I need, bookmarked the step-by-step instructions, and plan to call my TiVo-hacking alumni buddy Erik over when I get back from India to actually take apart the beast.

I am curious about what happens when DirecTV rolls out it’s next software upgrade to the box, but considering that it took them years to rollout 6.2 I guess it’s not a huge concern. I also briefly considered upgrading to the new R15 model of DirecTV DVR – which no longer requires a “daily call” – but was somewhat dissuaded when I found out it’s not based on TiVo software but the same guts that run the Dish DVR. Dish’s DVR may be good, but since I’m so accustomed to TiVo, and I already have a working box I enjoy – I figured I may as well try my hand at hacking what I’ve got. Either way, the R15 is a $100 upgrade even if I do somehow manage to brick my current box – and I have an old vanilla receiver I can hookup in the meantime should the worst happen. So, like you care, I’ll keep you updated on the progress.

That’s it then folks, I think that’ll cap off the week; not sure I’ll be writing anything for Friday as I’ll likely be busy Thursday night packing and readying for the big trip. So, if no Friday, I’ll catch ya all in India. Peace out.