In the course of my current work in sales, I have encountered some wonderful people.  And in the vast majority of instances, the people that I meet are intelligent, interesting, and successful.

But sometimes they are just funny.  Not funny on purpose necessarily, but funny in a way that seems to beg for at least some small degree of mocking.  Think Joe Pesci in Goodfellas…”I’m here to f’n amuse you?”

Truth is, some people are there simply for my amusement, or at least that’s how it can seem.  And every once in a while, I meet somebody so genuinely (and unintentionally) amusing that I can’t help but take the opportunity to share the laugh(s).

Now, I’m sure I can be very amusing when out of my element.  However, to me, there is nothing quite so funny as a modern Luddite struggling with the internet age.  And, surprisingly, I see it more often in the course of my work than I would have ever guessed.

And it’s provided some classically funny moments.  Most of these people are exceptionally good at what they do, and respected within their industry, and in many ways enjoying more success than I will likely know any time soon.  Still, I can’t help but chuckle at those moments in which they make themselves look especially clueless.

I have always thoroughly enjoyed two types of humor.  First, I’m a big fan of culture clash humor.  I’ve always been a big fan of Red Foxx and, yes, even guys like Don Rickles.  There is something spectacularly funny to me about racial and cultural differences when they are brought together to purposely create humor.

Next, I like the humor that comes from watching people struggle with evolving technologies.  Whether it was my parents struggling with the VCR or my wife deleting the autoexec.bat file because it “didn’t look necessary,” people frustrated by technological advancement is very funny to me.

Recently, I had the sheer pleasure of working with the most accidentally funny client you might ever encounter.  The cartoon below captures the spirit of his cluelessness.  Scarily, it’s mostly non-fiction, with names and industries changed to protect the innocent my job.  (And if you don’t have a 9 minute attention span, here’s the condensed version).

Enjoy.

Now, the Droid comes standard with a 16gb micro sd card, and the Motorola Droid specs page will inform you that it is expandable (to a 32gb micro sd card).  The sad reality, however, is that the 32gb micro sd card is simply not available as of yet (though rumors continue to circulate that SanDisk will have one soon, and I’m sure that some techy more connected than I already has one).  For a guy like me, currently packing slightly more than 14gb of music on my Motorola Droid, that 16gb card is starting to look awfully small (yes, I can hear the iPhone fanboys laughing).

So, recently, I set out on a quest to find a way to upgrade Droid memory to something beyond the factory 16 gb micro sd card.

Crickets.  There just wasn’t a card option out there.  However, that’s not to say that there wasn’t another option, an option fleshed out by sheer obsessive personality and Google frenzy.

Having spent a couple of weeks researching and then implementing, I thought I’d share with you how I upgraded my Motorola Droid memory to 32 gb 64 gb 128 gb…well, actually to 640 gb.

You can go ahead and read that again if you need to; it’s not a mistake.  Yes, I have upgraded Droid memory to 640 gb…it’s true.  But how?

Pogoplug.  Because one good gadget deserves another, I relied on Pogoplug to run a dedicated USB hard drive (A Seagate 640gb Free Agent Go to be exact) that is accessible from my Droid over the Verizon 3G network (well, actually, it’s accessible over any internet connection, obviously, but for my purposes I’ve dedicated it to the Droid memory upgrade project).

While I was skeptical at first, the thing actually works…and works quite well.  I have now housed more than 70 gb of music on the Seagate, and have begun adding my movie library (music and movies both stream perfectly over the Verizon network using the Pogoplug app available in the Android Market).  Now, of course, I am strung out on tech gadgets as I access my Seagate from all of my computers and mobile devices.  The beauty is that the Pogoplug has four USB ports, meaning that I can keep adding hard drives, making my Droid memory nearly infinite.

And in case you’re wondering, so long as I start with full battery power, I can stream an entire movie (seamless, remarkably, over the 3G network) on my mobile phone from nearly anywhere.  Yes, even long movies!

So now, more than ever before, I’m singing the praises of my Droid (yes, the Pogoplug app is available for the iPhone as well).  But I’m also over the moon about this whole Pogoplug thing.  What a remarkably cool tech gadget the Pogoplug is.  And combining the Motorola Droid with the Pogoplug has proven one of the most satisfying of the tech endeavors that I’ve undertaken since 1981 (the year that my computer obsession began).  Don’t worry about upgrading Droid memory, or finding a 32 gb micro sd card for Droid, just get yourself a Pogoplug, head on over to the Android Market, and then overdose on gadget endorphins.

The Pogoplug app for Droid, obviously, is now officially my favorite app.  What’s yours?

Having a tooth “pulled” is somewhat of misnomer, I’ve learned.  ”Pulling” sounds so easy…just pull and, voila, the tooth is out.  Well I’m here to tell you that it’s not exactly that easy.  Of course, if rather than saying that he was going to “pull” the tooth he instead said that he was going to “hammer, chisel, grind, saw, and drill your tooth, and then place enough torque on your jaw and skull to make you think  you’ve been in a car accident,” business might just dry up.

So dentists opt to tell you that they are going to “pull” your tooth.  What they’re really pulling is your leg; short of the doc gaining extra leverage by placing his heel against my chin, I can’t imagine how that could have been any worse.  Next time, I’ll just schedule an assault.  It would be cheaper and less traumatic.  Join me next week as I saw on my achilles tendon with a rusty hacksaw.

And it’s not over yet.  In another four weeks, I’ll head into be fitted for a “bridge.”  Well, a “bridge” sounds pleasant, sounds like an easy way to cross difficult waters.  Something tells me, though, that it will be more like the digging of an underwater tunnel in my head.  I, of course, will keep you posted.

Yes, a bridge.  I guess that shouldn’t surprise me, though, given the milestone birthday coming up.  It’s true, I’ll be turning 29 for the twelfth time on February 16.

It’s safe to say, though, that things work just a little differently in Jamaica.  Journalism, apparently, is no exception.

As evidence today,  I point you toward perhaps the most amusing take yet on Tiger Woods and his “transgressions,” courtesy of the Jamaica Gleaner.  The official language of Jamaica is English, though the double entendre is alive and well.

Now that’s a unique take!

Here’s the scoop:

Last Thursday was the “Civil War” game.  Nobody really cares about it outside of Oregon, but here in Oregon it is as big as sporting events get.  University of Oregon vs. Oregon State University for those of you outside of Oregon.  And this year’s game determined the PAC-10 representative in the Rose Bowl, so the stakes were higher than most years.  In fact, sports pundits, of which there are far too many, confidently claimed that this was the biggest sporting event in the history of Oregon.  Now, in my opinion, the biggest game in the history of this state would have to be Game 6 of the 1977 NBA Finals…but I digress.

Having lived in Oregon for more than 16 years now, I’m apparently the lone holdout when it comes to the opinion that these Civil War games, and college sports in general, are overrated.  This opinion comes, mind you, from a rather obsessive sports fan, so I realize there’s a certain degree of hypocrisy involved on my part. Oh well…just can’t seem to get all that excited about these two schools.  I don’t really get all that excited about the sports teams from my own alma mater (of course it helps that UCSB is best known for success in soccer, volleyball, and ultimate Frisbee….don’t ask), so it should come as no surprise that I don’t get all that excited about these games.

But back to hypocrisy for just a moment…

My son’s teacher (second grade) is one of those folks for whom these games mean the world.  Okay, fine; she was purportedly a cheerleader at one of the two schools (tough to care which one…sorry).  Well, for this year’s game she left school early so that she could drive over to Eugene to see the game in person.  The uptight parent in me couldn’t help but think that it was somehow inappropriate to put on display for your second graders that a football game should be prioritized over education (not to mention career).  I got over it pretty quickly, though…no big deal, really…or at least that’s what I tried to think.

While watching the game that night, my son got so excited about a play that he had seen, that he tried to re-enact it (a great play in a great game, by the way, even from the perspective of this humbugger).  Normally a coordinated kid, he somehow managed to sprain his foot.  Ouch.

The next morning, he wanted to stay home from school because his foot hurt.  It took some effort on my part to convince him that we don’t miss school or work for something as minor as a foot sprain.  Our obligations, I explained, using my best parental logic (not always easy), were to school and work.  I shuttled my son to school and then proudly watched him limp through the front doors.

But a funny thing happened.  When I went to meet him for lunch, I discovered that he had a substitute teacher.  Hmmm.  I inquired with the substitute as to whether subbing on account of a college football game seemed at all strange to her.  Since she was old enough to have been my second grade teacher, I expected her to pine for the old days.  No such luck.  “We get two personal days per year,” she said rather defensively, in a tone that reminded me of why I was never a big fan of most elementary school teachers.

Curious, I inquired with friends and family, who mostly seemed to agree with the sub; teachers get days off too.  Yes, they do….the entire summer, and winter break, and spring break, and every obscure holiday known to this country.  I’m in the minority, here, but it seems to me that college football is just college football, even if it’s a great game and you used to be a cheerleader.  Oh well, I might be wrong about this one…but I’m still not entirely convinced.

Caffeine makes me sweat…and something bad, too.  I’m not generally a sweaty guy, but caffeine brings out my sweaty and smelly sides, which wouldn’t really be a such a bad side effect if coffee actually had its intended effect.   But it doesn’t.  I get no “jolt,” no noticeable benefit, just bad cases of stankonia and monkey butt.  I like the smell (of coffee, not monkey butt), and I don’t even mind the taste (of coffee, not monkey butt).  But, for me, it just doesn’t do anything positive, so I long ago gave up trying.

But today I was feeling a bit lethargic, in large part due to a sinus issue that is making my head feel like it’s filled with pressurized air.  I mentioned this to a co-worker, who had battled the same thing over the last couple of days, and  he recommended that I try his blend of Yerba mate as a sort of alternative medicine .

Well, I guess I’m impressionable when it comes to trying to feel better, probably because I’m an absolute sickness wuss, so I decided to try this magical gaucho blend.  I quickly slurped down the contents of a rather strange looking cup, a cup that could certainly never stand on its own (which explains that weird stand thing, I suppose).  Nothing…except an aftertaste similar to the smell of hay, an odd sensation that might have made me feel as though that I had French-kissed a mare…not exactly sure.

So, of course, I had another cup, quickly gulping that liquid hay through a metal straw all in the name of equine envy sinus/sickness relief.  Again nothing…crickets.   Given all of the hype, I expected that I’d end up like Homer Simpson after eating insanity peppers.  No such luck.  Strangely shaped cup, metal straw, and a weird aftertaste, but a head still pounding….and then a ringing in my ears.

Though I’m a Gaucho, it doesn’t seem as though I’d make a very convincing gaucho.  Who knows, maybe it’s an acquired taste…but I can’t help but to be left wondering…what does a gaucho’s horse typically eat?

Zi is seven years old and is a bit obsessed with the big three sports…sort of like his dad, except that he’s a far better athlete than his old man ever was.  Enjoy.

First, a video of Zi’s favorite dribbling moves:

Next, a video of Zi’s favorite dribbling drill, the one that has enabled him to learn those moves above:

If you enjoy those half as much as I have, then you’re surely entertained.

Because this Qik thing is absolutely insane…no idea why this hasn’t caught on more widely.

If you have a smartphone with a video camera, odds are that you can stream live video from your phone using the Qik platform.

A few warnings/disclaimers.  When you download and install the app, and then sign up for the account, your shit is public…I mean truly public.  The default settings on the Qik platform are for your vids to stream directly to the public, right down to geo-location details.  When you hit that green button, make sure that what you’re filming is what you don’t mind the world seeing…because there are lurkers out there watching live Qik feeds just for their amusement.  As you know, we live in a voyeuristic society.  You can toggle all of your settings for maximum privacy, so you’re not stuck with the public settings, and you can choose exactly who can see your content, but you may want to take some time to learn Qik’s functionality before you start streaming video.

Private, VC funded, company for now, but keep an eye out.  I’m no stockbroker, but you might want to buy this stock someday…this thing’s fricking cool!

You can find my streaming video feed here.  There won’t be much there, I warn you, but if you’d like to see my son’s sporting events live, that’s the place to find them.

All of that changed for me with the release of the Droid. Now, don’t get me wrong, I was sort of excited about the iPhone but, simply, it wasn’t available here in Bend. So I patiently waited for something to come along.

That something turned out to be the Droid. Before AT&T could get their act together and bring their network to Bend, Motorola and Verizon dropped the Droid. Already being drunk on the Google Kool-Aid, it seemed like a no-brainer. My friend and colleague, Ben Goodsell brought his Droid into the office the day of its release and that’s all it took. I went AWOL and dropped into Best Buy and, voila, dropped some ching on a mobile for the first time ever.

I won’t bore you with my app strategy or any of my nerdy obsessions, but I will say that I am overwhelmingly satisfied with the Droid but for two features. First, the camera is awful…washed out, blurry pictures are more the norm than the exception and no matter how hard I try, the thing just won’t take good pictures consistently. Second, the slide-out Qwerty keyboard is garbage. Or my thumbs are. Or all three are. I’ve given up on the thing and just type using the landscape touch keyboard.

Other than those issues, I’m thrilled with the thing.

Want to learn more about me?  Well, I’m on Facebook.  And LinkedIn.  And Twitter.  And, yes, even Qik.  But who really cares?

I like baseball, some would say too much.  In that same spirit of unhealthy obsession, I wrote  about the Angels for the Orange County Register.  I  also wrote the 2009 AL West preview for the Wall Street Journal.

Want to know something really strange about me?  I was the 2008 Democratic Nominee for United States Congress in Oregon’s 2nd Congressional District.  No, I’m not kidding.  It’s a long story, but I took a beat down in the general election (I did manage 87,649 votes, though).

I work at AudetteMedia in Bend, Oregon.  If you’d like world-class SEO services, please contact me.

And don’t worry, I’ll be adding more content soon.