My parents arrived Thursday.  (They left about three hours ago — yes, they woke up in the middle of the night and left before sunrise to beat traffic in both Los Angeles and Phoenix.) And while I appreciate having them around, their presence always stresses me out.  I know, I don’t claim exclusivity on that.  But one of the main factors is my dad and his propensity for pushing buttons… and not just my own personal buttons, but the ones on my stuff.

Dad used to get upset when I was a kid because I constantly play with electronics, especially if it’s music-related.  I’m a chronic station-flipper on the radio, and before the advent of CDs, I’d run through cassettes in rewind or fast-forward, hitting stop and play every few seconds, trying to find a particular song.  He’d always tell me, “Stop doing that, you’re going to break it.” Thing is, I knew what I was doing and I knew how to work the machines.  Dad, on the other hand, is about as technologically advanced as an 18th century Eskimo.  Mom and I came home from running errands on Saturday to Dad saying, “Something’s wrong with your TV.” Well, the something wrong was that he’d reset the settings on my amplifier (which also controls the video signal for the TV), had even changed the amp to the radio so he was blasting rock music (which he absolutely hates) and the TV was on one of the random inputs that I never use, like Video 3 or something. 

Then there was yesterday morning, when I woke up at 4am to find Dad hovering over the air conditioner, trying to scoop out some water from the bucket I put behind it for the condensation spillover.  Naturally, Dad tries to strike up a conversation with me, but at that hour, I don’t want to be talked to — I’d just rather take care of whatever woke me up, then get back to sleep.  The problem was, what woke me was the fact that Dad was playing with the A/C controls for some unknown reason and had somehow changed the A/C to the “fan/heat” setting and turned up the temperature, so it was blowing in all the hot and humid air from outside, making the room close to 80 degrees and giving me a headache. 

I wouldn’t mind if Dad played with my stuff if he knew how to work them.  Instead, he’s a one-man electronics wrecking crew, and whenever my parents are in my apartment by themselves and one of them calls me, my automatic response when I answer the phone is, “What have you broken now?”

And now the spam has begun hitting my cell phone.  This morning at 5:45am, I got the third spam text-message of the last 24 hours… Me = not pleased.  Verizon Wireless was less than helpful this morning, basically telling me there’s nothing they can do because they can block all text messages altogether or let everything through.  Does anyone out there know how to block specific numbers from texting you?  I won’t even address the matter of this dude named Mo who keeps texting me pictures of his dog Herman (no, that’s not a euphemism) despite the fact that I’ve repeatedly told him I have no clue who he is and to please stop texting me. 

I am pleased, however, to bring you the best line I’ve heard all day.  Granted, the day is still young, but… In reference to the latest Lindsay Lohan stupidity and her on-again-off-again relationship with rehab, my co-worker said, “Rehab is something you’ve got to really want to commit to and get into.  It’s not like a webinar.”

First, there was the celebrity sighting:  I actually recognized them from the dude’s hat.  This weekend in the Whole Foods in Sherman Oaks, I saw Avril Lavigne and her husband, Deryck Whibley from Sum 41.  Yes, I know what you’re thinking — I’ve said many many times how much I can’t stand Avril Lavigne, what did I do?  Well, honestly, I left her alone.  I’d be pretty pissed if someone came up to me while I was grocery shopping and began ranting and raving at me about how much I sucked, so I figured the Golden Rule applied.  That said, I thought that her little faux-punker outfit made her look really stupid, and both of them looked tiny — at first, I thought they looked familiar but didn’t really recognize them because I thought they were teenagers.  And they’re short.  So that’s something else I can lord over her — I dress better than her, and I’m taller than both her and her husband.

Then, there was the snowfight:  We went to the California Gift Show at the Los Angeles Convention Center, which is basically a giant gathering of people selling their knick-knacks (or tchotchkes, as us Jews tend to call them), which other companies buy in bulk to send out for their corporate gift baskets and Christmas presents.  Some of the people were selling individual pieces, and I did score a good Christmas gift for The Best Friend™, but what was most awesome about the Gift Show was the dude selling Instant Snow in a Can.  Somehow, he developed some kind of foamy thing that, when you apply water, makes something that feels an awful lot like snow.  For someone who hasn’t really played in snow in almost 6 years, it was freakin’ awesome!  Suffice it to say that a snowball fight ensued later that evening… in the living room.

I’ve been thinking an awful lot about New York at Christmastime.  Honestly, it’s my favorite place to be and my favorite time of year, and it used to be a tradition that I went into the city at least once with my parents to see the tree in Rockefeller Plaza, the storybook windows in Saks Fifth Avenue, the decorations and toys at FAO Schwarz and the chestnuts roasting on the pushcarts that make the city smell absolutely wonderful but taste disgusting.  I really look back on those memories with a lot of happiness, and I’m also sitting around with six weeks of vacation time on my hands, most of which I can’t carry over to next year.  I’m thinking it may be time to make plans to head back to the most wonderful place on Earth for a few days in my own winter wonderland this December.

If you’ve been paying attention to stuff going on in the broadcasting/electronics world, you may have heard that XM and Sirius, the two satellite radio companies, are petitioning the FCC to allow them to merge.  It was kind of bound to happen, since they both were burning through so much cash that they’d eventually have to combine in order to survive financially.  While I prefer XM to Sirius — and the way things look like they’re going to shake out, Sirius will come out on top in this merger — I don’t have much of a problem with it overall.

However, the National Association of Broadcasters has been tripping over themselves to get the FCC to deny the merger, which may kill satellite radio altogether if it doesn’t go through, if Sirius and XM can’t sustain the cash flow to operate independently.  Personally, I always thought competition was a good thing because it kept you on your toes, and I’m all for anything that makes radio better, but the radio industry seems to be taking more of a “it’s different, let’s kill it!” mentality rather than trying to learn from (and beat) satellite radio.

What absolutely kills me, though, is the kind of stuff the NAB has been throwing at the FCC to try to get them to deny the merger.  I mean, you haven’t seen so much mudslinging in your life — which, of course, leads me to believe the NAB is more scared than anything about satellite radio.  Dear Lord, radio from space!  It’s so scary!  In the latest shot, the NAB got some consultant (who actually used to run the Federal Trade Commission) to say that while some claim satellite radio is a “luxury” and should be left alone, it is, instead, an essential item and therefore should be regulated by the government.  What a load!  I’m sorry — satellite radio is an essential item?  Last time I checked, essential items included food, drinking water, medical attention when needed and shelter, and that’s about it.  The piece says that satellite radio is used by many people who have “modest” incomes so they may not be able to afford much, and many satellite consumers live in rural areas so they need to get it in order to have media availability.  The thing goes on to say that many items that were previously available only to the wealthy — phones, TVs, personal computers — eventually became “essential” items to own. 

I can’t even begin to tell you how absurd I find this entire line of argument.  I thought the basic premise of having money and belongings was that outside the basic necessities of life (the aforementioned food, water, etc.), if you can’t afford something, you either don’t buy it or you find a way to be able to afford it by working more or cutting back on other expenses.  To think that something as frivolous as satellite radio would be considered an “essential” item implies that you just can’t live without it — but if you’re not willing to put yourself into debt to buy it because you can’t afford it, then don’t buy it!  It’s not up to the government to regulate something so everyone can afford it.  If you want to provide a level playing field so that everyone has everything, do away with democracy and attempt to set up the country as a giant commune.  (And we saw how well that worked in the former Soviet Union.) What a selfish attitude — you don’t deserve something just because it’s available.  If that were the case, every guy in the country would own a 60” flat-screen HDTV.

Yes, it would be a shame if the people who previously had and enjoyed satellite radio were forced to lose it (though I’m still not sure exactly how allowing the two companies to merge would cause these folks to lose satellite radio), but I seriously doubt their lives would come to an end.  With each missive, it becomes more and more clear that the NAB is just grasping at straws.  While I think that there’s a chance I might not like how the joint company would run its stations post-merger, at this point I’m almost rooting for the merger to go through just to spite the NAB.

So, the week in review.  My apologies for not updating sooner.

- Transformers.  Oh dear Lord, I loooooooved this movie.  I apparently walked out of it with a huge smile on my face, clapping my hands and yelling “yay Transformers!” prompting my friends to tell me that I had apparently regressed to being 7 years old.  I recommend it if you want a big, dumb summer movie that kicks effing ass.  I can pretty much sum it up in three words:  Shit.  Blows.  Up.
- Pizzeria Mozza, which is so great, it’s been written up already in Bon Appetit and The New York Times, even though it’s a Los Angeles restaurant.  A friend of mine made reservations literally a month ago, and the first available slot was this weekend.  But hot damn, was it worth it.  The food was amazing, and it was well worth the wait.  To make things even more awesome, James Spader showed up while we were there!
- Work finally slowed down.  The feature article I wrote came out, and it looks pretty awesome.  I got to interview the guy who runs KROQ and one of the people who helped relaunched K-Rock in New York, and my bosses specifically asked me to turn this around on short notice, so I’m glad I was able to deliver.
- Sicko.  I have to admit that the movie actually frightened me to think that despite the fact that I have health insurance, I may actually not be in a position to be helped should something happen to me.  While people are talking about how Michael Moore may have fudged some of the facts and glossed over some things, it still makes some points about how our healthcare system in this country is pretty much broken.  Then again, what in this country isn’t right now?  I recommend this one too.

Meanwhile, over in Nevada, a couple are claiming their Internet addiction caused them to neglect their kids.  Honestly, what the hell, people?  We have become such a nation of negligence and passing the buck and blaming others for our own faults.  This is getting a little out of hand — they neglected their kids and they’re blaming effing Dungeons & Dragons? 

Friday night was a double-dose of celeb sightings for me:  First, David Krumholtz wandered through the restaurant where I was having happy hour drinks.  He was behind huge aviator sunglasses and sporting a beard, but it was still him.  Then I went to see Rocco DeLuca & The Burden, where I sat up on the roof for awhile and spotted Rosemarie Dewitt, who is significantly thinner than I had thought.  I guess it’s true that the camera adds a little weight, since she doesn’t look extremely tiny on-screen.  Despite the fact that I’ve had a small crush on her for a while and she was recently in a movie with a friend of mine, I didn’t go over to her and say hello — she was with a friend, and I figure I shouldn’t bother her just because I know who she is.  And when I looked her up on IMDb this morning, I found this little gem of brilliance… yeah, pal, she’s related to a fictional character because they have similar names.

Also, at the Rocco DeLuca show, there was a dude dressed up in a bunny suit wandering around.  No joke — he was up on the roof, smoking a cigarette, then I saw him down in the theater.  You really haven’t lived until you’ve seen a giant bunny with floppy ears bouncing around at a rock show.

By the way, I’d just like to point out that Paris Hilton has served more jail time than Scooter Libby will. 

I’ve finally broken down and gotten an air conditioner.  After a week of temperatures being over 75 degrees in my apartment at night, I figured for the good of my sanity (and the rest of humanity), I should probably get myself something that would help keep me from being a zombie all day since I haven’t been sleeping much at night. 

This week also saw the end of a small little tchotchke that sounds stupid but had a lot of meaning for me — my travel bottle of shampoo.  It was just a stupid little hotel shampoo bottle, but I got it from the hotel I stayed in on the first night of my roadtrip out to Los Angeles when I was moving here since the hotel had the same kind of shampoo I like.  I guess after 5 1/2 years, it had had enough of being toted all over the country (and even internationally!) and pooped out.  I can’t believe I got emotional over a stupid 3 oz. shampoo bottle.  I haven’t even had the heart to throw it out yet, it’s still sitting on my bathroom counter.

In other L.A.-related news, I’ve found an awesome pizza joint and a cool little ‘hood — Village Pizzeria in Larchmont Village is the closest I’ve gotten to New York-style pizza here in Los Angeles, and it’s so effing good.  Plus, Larchmont Village itself is a cool little hang, so after having lunch there, we wandered around to see the other restaurants and shops there, including a Leonidas, which I promise you is the best chocolate you’ll ever have. 

So, I’m back.  And I’ve seen Minneapolis. 

First, there was the official business — the convention I was going to, where I actually touched… nay, held Bob Barker’s microphone!  The guy who does the morning show on the local pop station actually bought it off eBay for $20,000, and he brought it down to the panel we did. 

Then, there was the playtime.  I have to admit seeing an indoor baseball game really tripped me out.  I felt like I was at a high school baseball game, and it didn’t really feel like the field was as big as it actually was.  The cool thing was that Frank Thomas hit his 500th home run at the game we were at — we sat down in our kickass seats (3rd base line, right behind home plate) and then he hit it.  And of course, what trip to Minneapolis would be complete wthout a jaunt out to The Mall of America?

Thankfully, now I’m home.  I was only away for a few days, but I’m really glad I’m back in my own apartment and life is getting back to normal.  Except now that stuff has piled up on my TiVo, so I must attack it now.  Yar!