Mike O'Connell

Every time I see a “Snow in Washington” report I get all excited like we’re getting some kind of major happening here. (Someone alert Jim Cantore.) Then I realize it’s Washington state, and realize that Cantore’s headed there, not here. And then I see the pictures and reason that it’s probably not such a bad thing that we’re missing the snow being dumped on Washington state right now.

It’s a lot more fun to watch it on TV.

Narrated by Jim Cantore.

As of two days ago I was one of the last people on Earth who subscribed to this thing called “cable.” You know… TV. Like with the channels and the remote and the tuning in at certain times.

I told myself that if watching the Super Bowl were easy to do without “TV” I really didn’t need it anymore. (Live sports were the last refuge of cable.)

My four-year-old figured out how to stream the game.

And then he asked, “Daddy, what’s TV?”

Time to move into this decade.

Being snowed in the past couple days has given me plenty of time to think. Not necessarily important things, but puzzling questions nonetheless. Here’s one example.

For years I watched Fred Rogers on Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood. You remember how the thing used to start: Mr. Rogers walks in, takes off his coat, puts on a sweater, and changes into casual shoes. The thing that never occurred to me as a kid was where was he coming from?

Seriously. What was Mr. Rogers doing before he got “home.” Was he at work? And then at the end of the show he got dressed and headed back out. Was he going back to work? Was he just stopping by on his lunch break? And what exactly did he do for a living? Continue reading →

The great thing about 21st century living is that there’s a new cultural phenomenon to get swept up in every five minutes. Don’t like this one? Just wait five minutes.

I might as well weigh in on the sensation of the moment, because everyone else in the world is. It’s Tidying Up, the Netflix bonanza based on the best-selling book. In case you’ve been under a rock the past few weeks, it’s that show in which that woman, you know, Marie Kondo, shows people how to “tidy up” their lives, asking us the immortal question (while holding up a piece of junk): does this spark joy?

Let the record show I am completely on board with the Tidying Up lifestyle. It’s basically what I’ve been doing my whole life; I just never thought to write a book about it. Actually, mine is more like an OCD-inspired need for everything to be organized and in the “right” place.

I like my junk in the right places.

And if you’re going to let me be the one who determines what sparks joy and what doesn’t?

Yeah, I can live with that.

You’d be surprised what I’ll say passes for joy.

Now to go admire my VHS tape collection…

For more than a decade I’d been a closet fan of The Killers, Las Vegas rockers who have brought me occasional joy this century amidst what has passed for “music” the past 18 years.

Their new single, “Land of the Free,” is a great study in contradiction. I don’t think I’ve ever liked a song more, musically, with which I have had such displeasure with its lyrics. Those last few stanzas of “This Land is Your Land” (go ahead and google it)? Maybe.

“Land of the Free” begins with a piano intro that can be described only as Billy Joel-esque. Okay, check number one. Sweet chorus with some surprising chord choices? Yeah, check two. And the sentiment of America? Yes, yes, and yes.

Unfortunately a full read of the lyrics shows the title and choral refrain as pure irony. This is not the land of the free, say my friends from Sin City. Too bad, because I really like the song. And I suppose it does give us something to think about and something to strive for in the future.

Until then, please, somebody produce a Muzak version of this one stat!