A pre-existing condition

Good morning, everyone, and I'm glad to see you back here for another installment of UOPTA: America's Favorite Weekly Blog of Random Thoughts and Stories by Someone Named Peter Klein in Los Angeles Who is Lefthanded. Ya know, just in case all of the weekly blogging righthanded Peter Kleins in L.A. are reading this, I don't want to come off as too presumptuous. Today's post is a special one, friends, and it has nothing to do with today's content whatsoever. Rather, this is the 300th post on this here site, and that's a much higher number than I ever expected to reach in this endeavor. To commemorate this nice round number, I'm going to unload some topics that have been sitting on my List of Standalone Items that Could Maybe Each Yield a Few Paragraphs if I Don't Have an Overarching Theme. Gotta love that LSICMEYFPIDHOT.

Ah, here's one that might even turn into a whole post if I babble enough. We'll have to wait and see. There's a phenomenon I've found that is a real double-edged sword for me, and I don't know if others feel the same way or not. I'll call it "The Daunting Pre-Existing Inventory Conundrum." Ooh, that's catchy. My first example comes from the world of music via the world of video games. I shall explain. More and more often, musicians are finding interesting ways to get their music out to fans/potential consumers. On "So You Think You Can Dance," they always list the artist and song name for the backing music to each dance performance, and I guarantee that the labels see big spikes from people who learn of their product that way. Additionally, songs are featured in video game soundtracks to play in the background of menu screens or the gameplay itself. For example, my co-worker Rob accompanied me to a concert for one of my favorite bands, Sloan. He didn't know any of their songs, but since my lovely wife declined the invitation, Rob said he was always down for a good show. When they came out for the encore, Rob turned to me and said, "Wait, I know this song!" That seemed unlikely to me since I've never heard a single song of theirs on any American radio station (they're Canucks). A few seconds later, he said, "I totally know this." He then remembered from where he knew it: one of his football video games. And like that: two forms of media converged.

Ok, back to my ever-expanding story: I heard a song on a baseball video game that I used to play fairly often, and I enjoyed it. It came on again the next time I played, and I said to myself, "Ok, I've gotta look these guys up and maybe even buy their album." The band is called Guided By Voices, and when I looked them up on Wikipedia, I was shocked at what I saw: 16 studio albums over 17 years. "Never mind then," I said (probably aloud). And that was that. You see, I was too daunted by the large body of work to even dip my toe in. "What if you bought an album and really liked it?" you might ask. That's precisely the problem. You see, I don't like doing things halfway at all. In fact, it feels wrong and unsettling to me. It's hard to explain, but I think it boils down to liking something, wanting more, and being bothered by the fact that there's more of the good stuff out there that I'm just leaving on the table. If I bought one cd of theirs and liked it, I'd want to learn more songs by them, and then it could easily and quickly spiral out of control. In this instance, I chose instead to be blissfully ignorant.

Yeah, I know that sounds a little strange, seeing as how I'm basically denying myself things from which I would likely get enjoyment. Fortunately, my lovely wife doesn't see things in such black-and-white-and-ridiculous terms as I do. Here's an example of that: While visiting our friend Melissa a while ago, she put on an episode of the British comedy, "Coupling." (There was a disastrous American version of the same show that didn't make it though its first season.) It was very funny, which struck me as odd since I hadn't enjoyed a half-hour sitcom for quite a while. So months later when my lovely wife and I saw it airing on BBC America, we recorded an episode. Even though it was in season 2 and there were some references to previous happenings on the show, we still enjoyed it quite a bit. That's when The Daunting Pre-Existing Inventory Conundrum set in for me. When I looked up the series and saw that there were four seasons, there were only two possible solutions in my mind. Either we go out and buy all four of them and watch them in order and in a relatively short amount of time or we never watch another episode ever again. My lovely wife stepped in and offered another solution. She found that the On Demand feature of our cable had some additional episodes from Season 2 on there for us to watch at our leisure. We did, and since we enjoyed them so much, she purchased the DVD of Season 1. We watched that too, and all was fine. Now though, I'm back to feeling the pressure of being back in the middle of an unfinished task. On Demand adds a new episode every week or so, but the Pre-Existing Inventory is sitting out there somewhere, waiting for me to laugh with it and it leaves me smack dab in the middle of Enjoyment Purgatory. Is the world ending because I have more episodes of a British comedy to watch? No, it certainly isn't, and I recognize that. Still, it's unsettling enough, and Seasons 3 and 4 might magically appear in an online shopping cart soon.

So what are the treatments for The Daunting Pre-Existing Inventory Conundrum? The first is simple, as illustrated by the Guided By Voices example: stop right there and do not proceed any further. It's admittedly not the healthiest way to deal with the situation, but it works. The second treatment, as I've learned, is to try to very slowly expand the selection and constantly monitor the enjoyment level. Sounds like a bit of a killjoy, eh? It's necessary though, and here's why: I'm fiercely loyal to things that bring me enjoyment. It took a whole crappy season and a half of Prison Break for me to give up on it. It took two crappy Everclear albums before I pulled the plug on them. I liked a book by an author, so I bought three more by him at the same time since it was a series. After the third of those three, I realized that I hadn't really enjoyed the last two enough to buy the next few. These things take time for me, and so if I'm going to continue on with something that initially gave me some level of diversion, I need to monitor how long that fun lasts or find myself twelve books or episodes into something that more closely resembles a habit than a hobby.

So for everyone out there who has told me that I need to watch House, The Wire, 30 Rock, or The Office, I understand your rationale. I'm sure they're all great, but The Daunting Pre-Existing Inventory Conundrum is preventing me from just jumping right in. Maybe, just maybe, with my lovely wife's assistance I'll be able to dabble a little instead of my current all-or-nothing approach and not worry about all of the unwatched episodes. Maybe I'll be alright turning the potential enjoyment into kinetic enjoyment at my own leisure and pop in a DVD when the opportunities present themselves. Yeah, and maybe I'll start trusting that my alarm clock will go off on its own and sleep all the way to the predetermined time. I'm not holding my breath.

And with that, an entire post was born. I love it when that happens. Before we go though, let's reconvene in the next paragraph for the always-thrilling Car Watch!

Longtime family friend and faithful UOPTA reader Sue sent me an email. (You see, she could tell that when I asked people to write to ptklein@gmail.com at the end of the previous 299 posts that I really meant it and wasn't just being polite.) Here's what she had to say: "I saw this plate today and had to share. It was a lime green Lotus sportscar with the plate 'ZEN DUDE'. Cute huh? And the other day while pumping gas I saw a Toyota 4Runner, '1NSTYSS' which I inserted the A's into and came up with 'one nasty ass.' Both ends of the spectrum huh?" Those are great, Sue. I'd expect the "ZEN DUDE" dude to be in an old VW Bug or maybe a Prius, but I still admire that he not only captured a belief of his on the plate, but also managed to tell us in a way that drove the point home. "ZEN MAN" or "ZEN PRSN" really doesn't do the trick, ya know? As for the second one...I guess that's what he was going for. (I almost said "he or she," but let's be honest here.) What else could it be? "One nasty sis?" Then I suppose the "she" would need to get back into the equation. There's a lesson here, folks: think through something fully before writing whatever pops into your mind.

My homey Rockabye saw a plate that will probably elicit the same response from you that it did me. It read, "POORBOX," and it was on a gray Porsche Boxster. What response was I expecting? "Oh fuck you, man!" How close was I?

Lastly, I saw this plate earlier this week, and I literally did a tripletake: "B A4KLFT." Yep, the driver is commanding each and every one of us to turn into a frickin' forklift. The English major in me is trying to make it a functional metaphor for lifting people up and helping them reach new heights, but that's clearly not working. Instead, I think this person just really wants me to come over and move some heavy palettes of inventory to a higher elevation. Sorry, sir or madam, but I just don't see that happening.

Do you know what I do see happening? I see us meeting back here next Friday for post #301. Some stuff's going to happen during that time though, and I'm compelled to address it. Happy birthday to our good friend Ceil tomorrow, happy Labor Day on Monday, and for those of you who celebrate it, happy First of Ramadan on Tuesday. Have a happy and healthy weekend and week, everyone, and I'll see you in September. Hey, that's catchy too! As always, please feel free to write to ptklein@gmail.com with anything at all. Take care, friends, and shaloha.