This week I read that RadioShack's stock price fell to less than $1 a share on the New York Stock Exchange. Really? I mean, I was amazed. RadioShack still has trading stock? They must be doing better than I thought.
I remember going into RadioShack as a kid, and it was pretty awesome. I was always a bit of a geek, and back then they were the only place you get a handful of transistors without a clerk looking at you like you were holding Cracker Jacks from Mars. It was a safe place for geeks.
And they had a great selection of rocket engines, crystal radio kits, breadboards, and soldering equipment. If you wanted any sort of unapologetic geeky electronics thing -- stuff like those guys in "Halt and Catch Fire" are always playing around with -- RadioShack was home. You could build a working computer just using the stuff the janitor swept up at the end of the day. It was THAT awesome!
It's the 70th anniversary of D-Day today, when America invaded France and began the liberation of Tom Hanks' career.
A lot of people died that day: some were German, some American, a lot were extras being paid scale in the wide shots. D-Day was the beginning of the end for World War II, but to fully appreciate that, you need to know how it all began.
World War 2 was largely started by Germany, specifically a guy called Adolph Hitler. If you don't know who this is, chances are you've only watched the History Channel to see Pawn Stars. Anyway he decided to start the war because he really liked war, particularly the first world war, which he thought was pretty awesome. Turns out he also had substantial mental issues but he was pretty good at hiding those from anyone who didn't read the book he wrote, listened to any of his speeches or paid attention to what he did after he rose to power. He was kinda a crafty bastard.
I mean seriously, this weather is out of control! It's so bad here that police are taking 10 minutes or more to respond to a school shooting what with the pouring rain and tornados. Talk about crazy huh?
Even when it's sunny out, it's like 900 degrees with 4,000% humidity! Yeah I'm pretty sure that's physically impossible, but definitely what it feels like, especially when you're naked and surrounded by hot lights and teamsters. But that's another story.
And I hate this time of year too! It used to be that when school's out, it meant it was time to get a summer job, drink too much beer and hit on co-workers. These days my stupid boss says I can't work at Staples anymore, since I'm technically the "Regional Sales Manager for OfficeMax" (whatever!) and my wife just gets mad if I hit on Julie in copy paper anyway. So now all I have is a house-full of unemployed children and plenty of beer. No way I'm doing this sober.
Seriously, what's with this weather? I wish there were more summer sports too. I like baseball, but I think all sports should be summer sports or, better yet, year round! I'd love to see the Brewers play in eight inches of snow and watch the Packers pass out from heat exhaustion in 103 degree heat. Now we're putting the fun back in sports! How can you know you're REALLY alive until you've played the Master's golf tournament in -38 wind chills being pelted with blowing snow? Makes my nipples stiff just thinking about it.
'Twas the day before Xmas Vacation, and all through the office,
not a worker was stirring not even Paul The Snitch.
The desks were all cleaned, per the new corporate memo,
in the hopes that Auditors would not make you a demo.
The workers were nestled all snug in their cubes,
While visions of Walking Dead played on their smartphones.
And Donna, the office manager, and I in my hoody,
Had just finished discussing the spirit of casual Friday.
When out in the mail room there arose such a clatter;
I sprang from my cube to see what was the matter:
Away to the noise I flew like a flash,
Tore open my mail and threw away the envelope.
"Thanks for taking this meeting, I really appreciate it, Mr. Jones. You don't mind the extra-wide lapels and bell-bottoms, do you?"
"How could I, it's 1977 and I'm a high-powered television executive, after all. Cigarette?"
"Sure, I just ate, could use some help digesting."
"So Mr. Lipstein, your agent said something about a pitch you had for our new network 'The History Channel.'"
"Not one, Mr. Jones, but several great ideas. When we read in Variety you were launching a new network, I gotta say, the boys and I were so excited we drank scotch the rest of the afternoon and smoked at least a carton of cigarettes until we involuntarily pissed our pants."
"You flatter me. So what'd you got?"
"Picture this: Las Vegas. The city that never sleeps. High stakes gambling, hookers, the rich and powerful sitting right next to the farmer from Topeka, each able to strike it rich or go bust with the drop of a few cards."