The Day the Twinkie Died

Flash-forward to autumn of the year 2029.

My daughter has just started her freshman year at Clemson University. One evening her and some friends have decided to go to Oldies Night in the Hendrix Student Center's McKissick Movie Theater for showings of some classic 1980s movies.

Up first is "Ghostbusters", widely recognized as one of the best comedies of all time.

(You and I know this convesation by heart)
     Winston: "Tell him about the Twinkie..."
     Venkman: "What about the Twinkie...?" 
(In case you don't remember the details of the Twinkie, here's a refresher video...)

"Any of y'all know what a Twinkie is ?," asks one of Ashlyn's friends.

Ashlyn eating her first - and probably last ever - Twinkie

Ashlyn responds, "It was some sort of snack cake. My parents have a picture of me eating one when I was little...the day they stopped making them...the day the Twinkie died."

About That Day

Rewind to November 16, 2012. 

I learned about the Twinkie's demise .... the demise of Hostess, an 82-year old company and the manufacturer of some of our nation's most recognized bakery snacks...on Facebook. 

My wife knew about it earlier in the day and posted about it on Facebook. I hadn't scrolled down far enough to see her post when I saw a post from a friend of mine about Hostess' closure and instantly shared it out and commented. We (she and I) have always had a thing for one-upping each other as far as knowing things before the other, so she won out this time.

At first, I didn't really think everybody would go Twinkie crazy. Then it was like the Zombie Apocolypse hit and people started talking on Facebook about going to the store and stocking up on them. Then I started reading more and more posts about people running to the store to get some.

My wife began telling me when she got home from work to go buy some. Finally, after reading even more stuff online, I was like, "Okay. We need to go now. I may never be able to eat another Twinkie again if we don't."
 
Apparently today was the day that Ebay also went nuts. With people selling Twinkies. And any type of Hostess products or memorabilia they had or could get their hands on. 

Our final haul of Hostess stuff

We went to at least 10 convenience or grocery stores. Our only score was a bag of Hostess donuts at Publix and a handful of Hostess products at Dodge's General Store down the road from our house.

After getting home, a choice had to be made. Eat them or frame them? Eat them it was. That the best Twinkie I think I've ever had. It made reflect...

Emotions and Stuff

... I was sad that day. And mad. And nostalgic.

Twinkies have always been in my life. My dad is a fan of them. I'm a fan of them. Although in recent years, I've admittedly developed more of an affinity for Zingers. That's where the sad and nostalgic comes into the story.

The mad part, well that's my political side coming out.

Hostess has been around for 82 years, employing hundreds of thousands of people during that time. They are an icon of capitalism, the American dream, Americana, hard work and determination, and economic vitality - at least until recent years, and a lot of that had to do with unions.

When America's first unions began to establish themselves, there was a genuine reason for that. Working conditions in many industries were absolutely horrible. There hardly were any such things as safety protocols. Company owners and managers could get away with pretty much anything they wanted to at the expense of their workers. 

In their purest, truest sense, unions were a great solution to curb most of those behaviors and practices - while still allowing the business/organization to thrive. 

What we have seen in recent years though (for far too many reasons to name) are companies that have been forced to reorganize or relocate (in many of those cases causing mass layoffs) just in order to survive - or close, as is the case with Hostess. Their closure will result in the loss of an 18,500+ member workforce. 

Another major blow to our economy. When that many people go out of work, it has serious economic repercussions in more ways and in more lives than we can imagine. It affects our entire nation.

I know there's people who will go to the wall for their beliefs in the idea of unions. But I'm just not one of them. Fortunately, South Carolina is a right-to-work state which means you won't find many unions here. They are few and far between. 

Our economic developers will not in most cases even talk to companies who are interested in relocating or expanding to our state if that company has unionized workers. One of the first questions our EDs will ask a company when they express an interest in South Carolina is "Are your workers unionized / are you a union company?"  If the answer is yes, the we will ask "Do you have a transfer clause?"  If a transfer clause exists, that means the union charter allows it to transfer along with the company to another state or location. If the answer is yes, the state will immediately cease talks with them. If the answer is no, we'll invite them over to come check our great state out.

Unfortunately, with the leadership (or lack thereof) in our current administration in Washington DC, we're probably going to see more instances of companies like Hostess having to deal with this type of situation - especially with what's going on with Obamacare coming into full effect and our economy in the shape it is, but that's a discussion for another day and time.

Getting Back to the Story

So I'm sad that the memory of the Twinkie will more or less be lost on the generation of kids that will soon be going through our elementary schools - and for our future generations. They'll never know that original, great taste of a REAL Twinkie instead of that of BlueBird Twinkie knockoffs. (By the way, I'm not an economist by any means... but they are probably in for a huge increase in sales in 2013)

For all you health nuts out there, you can complain about the nutritional detriment of a Twinkie, or a Ho-Ho, or a Ding Dong, or a Snowball, or a Zinger all you want. Go ahead. It doesn't matter to me, and unfortunately it won't matter to Hostess anymore.

So long Twinkie the Kid. It's been great knowing you - we (at least I) wish you weren't riding off into the sunset.

WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA WOCKA

"Follow the dots, eat the dots. Follow the dots, eat the dots."

"Ooops, turn around, Clyde's on my tail. Here comes Inky...... gotta get ahead, gotta get ahead."

"C'mon dude, move it, move it....."

"Yes, a power pellet! HA HA! Time to eat me some ghosts"

How many times have I said any of the above, I wonder.

How many miles of arcade screen did I drive that little yellow dude, I wonder.

Alot. Many quarters worth. But it has always been fun, whether in it's original form, the super-sized version, or even the Ms. version.

I had Pac Man fever for many years of my youth.

When I was in college, I had an HP-48SX graphic calculator on which I installed Pac Man (along with Joust, Tetris, and a few others).

No matter what computer I have had, I have always had a version of Pac Man on it.

My wife and I were recently in Myrtle Beach for a few days - and the morning we were checking out, as I was on my way to get a luggage cart, I noticed a Pac Man machine in the game room. I just happened to have a couple quarters in my pocket.

So I used them.

The joystick felt the same - like it and my mind instantly connected and became one for the nth time.. Like some sort of arcade Jedi. Use the force Brian, let it guide your Pac Man.

I felt like I was six again. I burned through about a dollars worth of quarters and then wandered on to get the luggage cart, disappointed I was out of change.

I grew up on Pac Man. We used to line up to play it in the arcade at the YMCA where I spent many afternoons of my youth. I listened to the song. I watched the Saturday morning cartoon.

And I celebrated his 30th birthday today. Happy birthday little yellow dude!

So Long Mac - And Thanks For All The Burgers

It didn’t matter whether it was the weekend or a weekday, the question became familiar over the next four and a half years.

“What are we doing for dinner?”

“Harcombe (the college cafeteria)?” …. “Nah, not feeling it.”….. “Subway?”….. “Not in the mood for sandwiches”…. “Huddle House (another Clemson staple)?”….. “We just ate there last night at 1 am.”…. “Clemson House?”…. “Don’t want to walk up that hil”….

“Hey, have you guys heard about this place called Mac’s?,” somebody said.

“Yeah, actually. A guy at church was telling me about it. Said they have awesome burgers and that the guy who runs it is really cool,” I said.

Nobody had any idea where this place was. We just decided to go find it So we all piled in my friend Greg’s 1973 Monte Carlo known as The Battlewagon. Not quite recalling who all was with us, I’m pretty confident there were more people in the car than for whom there were seatbelts.

We drove around the city of Clemson (which really doesn’t take too long) a few times, not finding this place called Mac’s.

Frustration started to set in. So, finally, we decided to ask someone.

We saw a university police officer patrolling one of the lots, pulled up to his car, rolled down the window and asked if he knew where Mac’s is.

Image source: Anderson Independent-Mail, www.independent-mail.com

He joked around with us at first, asking us what was wrong with the school cafeteria, and why we wanted to go to this place called Mac’s. Finally he told us where it was.

So we went. And it was closed.

----

Mac’s Drive-In opened in 1956 in Pendleton by friends Dan Gentry and Harold “Mac” McKeown. Mac sold the restaurant a few years ago – but that didn’t stop him from still being a fixture there.

Mac died Wednesday night.

He was great guy and was a friend to everyone.

---

The first time I ate at Mac’s Drive-In was a few weeks after our adventure in finding it.

It’s kind of a small place. I just remember the first time I walked in there I was like “Wow. It’s like Clemson exploded on the walls in here!” But the experience is truly in sitting at that counter and taking the environment of the diner in.

There are photos dating back to the early days of Clemson;almost all are photos of Clemson sports, and as you might imagine, most of those were of Clemson football players – of yesteryear and of present day. Many were autographed.

“How you boys doing today?,” he said as we entered.

We sat down at the counter. Now this was not the type of place where you ask for the menu. You just know you’re going to get a burger. And you don’t necessarily have to say that’s what you want.

“Cheeseburgers all around,” said one of my friends.

There were only a few other people in the diner at the time, but for the time being, Mac was welcoming us and asking us if it we were freshman. As if he didn’t know.

I’m sure the flag went up when we walked in the door and our jaws dropped open at the love for Clemson all over the walls. Yeah, we were Mac’s newbies alright.

I told him that Clff, the guy from church I mentioned earlier, had told me about Mac’s Drive-In. Cliff played on Clemson’s 1981 national championship team.

“How’s ol’ Cliff doing?,” he asked.

That was just Mac. He knew all the Clemson players. He was friends with all Clemson students. He knew when it was your first time there. Over time, he watch as those same students graduated, became parents, brought their children to his diner to introduce them to this place, this food, and this man; and the cycle repeated. It's a Clemson family thing. It's just feels right.

I don’t know whether he ever picked up on my name. I ate there enough that he probably began to call me “ketchup and pickles.” While I’m just humorously speculating on that, that’s seriously what I would get on every burger – and I still do.

I just know it’s a very special place, run by a very special man - a person who would welcome you as you came with a “Hey guys” or “Hey there big man” – something along those lines. Maybe not immediately. He may have been behind the grill at that particular moment. But once he saw you, he would always greet you.

I know there’s no way I can count how many times I went to Mac’s and how many of his delicious burgers I consumed.

I remember occasionally going in on a Monday and he would be leaning against the counter having conversations with his patrons about the game that had just been played two days before. That was always really entertaining.

The visit usually was a result of that question “What are we doing for dinner (or lunch)”?

Mac’s Drive-In is just one of those places that helped make my Clemson experience memorable - and so did Mac. As the place and the man did with countless other Clemson students.

All I know is that the diner better live in on Mac’s name. What a tribute it would be to the man if it was still around in another 100 years.

Your Tiger family will miss you Mac. So long – and thanks for all the burgers.

The 2000s

They say that this was the worst decade ever.

I didn’t live through the Great Depression, but I have a feeling that the 1930s could give the 2000s a serious run for its money as being the worst decade ever.

I just wonder who DIDN’T vote for the 1340s to be the worst decade ever --- despite the fact that it was in the middle of the Dark Ages, a time when belief in science was considered heresy, and it was a decade when nearly 200 million people died of the bubonic plague.

I would tend to think that the 2000s was not the worst decade ever.

It wasn’t exactly the greatest decade ever, I’ll give it that.

I think most people will find that as they grow up, they look back on one or two decades during the life as their own personal favorites. But I think a lot of that is just due to the natural changes in people’s lifestyles, life stages, and outlooks at any given point.

You go through a decade of your childhood – when you just enjoy being a kid. You go through a decade of transition. You go through a decade in the real world when you get what’s left of the recklessness of youth out of your system, establish your identity as an adult, begin a family and begin a career.

Then you go through a few decades of being a provider, father or mother, family leader, and also experience career growth or changes.

And as that goes on, you watch the next generation go through the same cycle.

A lot of people think the 1980s was a cess pool of greed, excess, and debauchery.

It may have had its problems. But I think most of my generation will defend the 1980s to the teeth as a great decade. Was it the greatest decade ever? In some regards maybe, in others probably not.

We experienced the birth of MTV, the video game industry, countless fads and trends – and lots of other cultural changes, new ideals, and role models – all of which helped to shape our outlook, serve as a backdrop for our youth, and mold us into who were are today. We did have one thing going for us though in that the U.S. had its second greatest president ever to lead it through the majority of the decade.

And I don’t think most of us Children of the 80s turned out too bad.

Not that I don’t think that the children of the 2000s will turn out bad as a whole, but something tells me they won’t be as quick to defend the decade of their youth as the Children of the 80s are.

That being said, again, I don’t think the 2000s were an entirely bad decade. It had its pros – and it had its cons.

I just hope as we all have all gone through this decade that the things we have all learned through our shared experiences will help make the 2010s a much better decade.

So here’s to a new decade. It can always be worse than the one before, but let’s hope not.

The Hughes Legacy

The first time I ever watched The Breakfast Club, I thought "This movie is awesome." A lot of people can identify with it. The brain. The athlete. The basket case. The princess. The criminal....

20+ years later I still believe that.

Then there was Ferris. Everyone wanted to be Ferris. Everyone understood Ferris. Ferris rocked.

Along the way, Say Anything. Sixteen Candles. Uncle Buck. Planes, Trains and Automobiles. Home Alone.

All the creation of John Hughes.

John has one of the Hollywood legacies that people will remember for years to come. He will go down as a Hollywood legend. If he doesn't, myself and an innumerable amount of fans will be seriously disappointed.

I've put several posts or comments today on my Facebook page about Mr. Hughes and his movies.

Then I stumbled across this heartwarming gem from a blog called We'll Know When We Get There.

A posted entitled "Sincerely, John Hughes" by a lady named Allison Byrne Fields.

If you're a fan of John Hughes' movies, you need to read this. If you're not, you still need to. And make sure you read the comments at the bottom of it also.

I can write all day about my love of Mr. Hughes' movies. How much they made me laugh. How much I identified with many of his characters at some point.

But even if I wanted to try, I couldn't even touch the poignancy, the personal connection or the emotions of Ms. Fields' blog post.

She's written what I feel is one of my favorite blog posts ever. Thank you for that Allison.

And I thank you John. My generation thanks you.

We'll miss you.

A 30-Year Love Affair

My ears perked up. Sort of like what happens with a dog when they hear something that surprises them or they're trying to identify a sound. As much as they can perk anyway.

My wife gave me a quizzical look. Then I grinned.

"Do you hear it," I said.

"Ummm... what?," she asks.

I tuned my ears for that sound I thought I just heard -- a sound a child falls in love with at an early age while on summer break from school --- just to make sure. Yup, there it was again.

Then my wife heard it and responded, "Is that an ice cream truck?"

"Yes it is!" I exclaimed, as I jumped up and scrambled for some cash.

Where's some cash? No cash. Stupid debit card..... where's some change?

"Honey, where's all our change," I'm screaming through the house like a madman.

She gets up and starts picking coins out of her change box on the dresser.

Impatiently I reach over, grab the box, and turn it upside down as coins rain down into my hand.

"You're crazy," she says as I grin.... "Go get me a Brown Mule ice cream bar"

"OK," I'm yelling as I'm running out of the house to locate the source of the music.

It's already passed our house going up into the cul-de-sac. So I wait. It comes back towards us. Turns up the side road cul-de-sac. And starts coming my way.

And I'm sort of laughing at myself and the situation, but more grinning as they pull up beside me.

I'm sure the neighbors were amused. They may have wondered 'What does this idiot think he is, five years old?"

Frankly, I don't care what they may have thought. The ice cream truck was here.

I was happy. I picked through the coins counting how much I had. Just enough for something for both of us.

She got her ice cream and I got myself an orange pushup. Sweet.

I know I sound like a child, but I have had a 30-year love affair with ice cream trucks. My sister and I both can hear one coming from a mile away. It's just a sound that brings back a lot of memories of "MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM, I need some quarters. THE ICE CREAM TRUCK'S COMING!!!!"

Except now it's, "Honey, where's all our freaking change!!!???"

We have an ice cream truck that drives through the campus of the college I work from time to time in spring and even during the summer when the students aren't there. Why when students aren't there, I don't know... I guess they know that I'll give them business if I'm around.

My wife had her first experience with an ice cream truck a few years ago when we were living in an apartment not too far from where we went to college. She lived out in the country growing up; we lived in a neighborhood full of kids that was on the regular route of area trucks. We would assail the truck en-masse, scan the pictures of the treats plastered on the side of the truck with wonder "What do I want, what do I want?" and then fight to get to the window to get our treat.

She never had that experience.

I have always thought of ice cream trucks as a special slice of Americana. As a right of passage for all children. Obviously not everyone has that experience.

The first time she heard the jingle of that magical music, she was like "What is that weird music?"

I had already beat her to the punch -- before she was able to say anything I had leaped all the way across the room to look out the window for an ice cream truck.

I got the same response then as I did the other day -- "you're funny". This all went down on Saturday.

So this evening after getting home from work, I heard the music again. Before it was on our road. Didn't have to look out. I had faith it was turning up our road.

It did. And I had some change ready. And I got a Rocket Pop this time.

I don't know if our neighborhood is a regular stomping ground for this ice cream truck, but if it is I'm really looking forward to the rest of this summer.

Worth Checking Out

OK, so Journey is one of my all-time favorite bands. And a few of their songs are probably some of the most covered songs in music history.... "Don't Stop Believing," in particular.

Ordinarily, I don't really care too much for covers. I know people like to pay tribute to and recognize the original artists by performing their music and keeping it in rotation for younger generations to hear. Bt I like to hear the original, not some half-ass karaoke attempt. Call me a purist if you will, that's fine.

And I've heard a lot of covers of this song. It's really an infectious song. At least to me anyway. It's one of those 80s songs that I have loved since the first day I heard it.

They say sometimes you associate a song with a particular memory. For some reason, this is one of those songs that I associate with being at the YMCA for swim lessons. They always had the local Top 40 station on the speakers throughout the building. There's probably at least a half-dozen songs that the first thing I think of when I hear them is the YMCA of my youth. Weird, I know... but that's neither here nor there and not really relevant to this clip.

"Don't Stop Believing" was recently included on the premiere of FOX's new show "Glee" which is on the schedule for this fall, centering around, guess what, a high school glee club. We watched the premiere. It wasn't too bad...

But when they started this song off acapella, I thought "Oh, no. Here someone else goes again ruining this song."

Keep in mind, this is 'supposedly' a bunch of high school glee club members singing this- and a well done job of lip synching was not the case.

BUT... and that it the operative word here.... I really liked the arrangement. It gave the song a different flavor. And to have the girl singing lead on it really brought something new to it. She's no Steve Perry, Steve Augeri or Arnel Pineda. But..... in the end, I actually found myself liking it.

And I think we're going to check 'Glee' out a little further this fall. But in the meantime.....

*Drumroll*

Bring on the cheese:

She Had A Long Life

We first noticed the symptoms about a week ago. At first, it was just some minor discoloration. But as the week went on, her color just kept fading. Her energy levels got weaker and weaker.

We could tell she was trying to fight. She wanted to live on. But she had had a long life ..... and it was her time.

Shortly after 8 am on Sunday, Feb. 15, she passed on.

She was a good friend to me who had been there for me all through high school, college, and the first 11 1/2 years of my marriage.

She didn't have a name - up until this past week, when I started referring to her by such phrases as "come on darlin,' you can stick it out a little while longer" or "don't die on me now baby."

My TV of 20 years died this morning as she finally gave up the ghost and left us.

I guess it was her time. Those last couple days we knew the end was near, but we didn't want to admit it.

I'll remember the good times though --- like when I was transfixed by series premiere of Star Trek Voyager on her screen. And the sad times -- when the ending notes displayed on her screen said that Sam never came home on the series finale of Quantum Leap.

You have to figure though that 20 years is a pretty long life for a TV, especially when you don't see too many computers lasting three or four years anymore. All in all, she had a good life.

The guys at the county recycling center will probably think I'm weird when I show up with a television wrapped in a blanket, with a card on it that says, "Goodbye baby. We'll miss you."

So I guess won't do that. I'll just ask that they treat her with a modicum of respect when they take her off to the land of cast off electronic appliances -- the place where televisions, computers, and the like go so that their inner anatomy does not contaminate our environment.

I'll grieve for a day or so. But as with life, I must move on. And I imagine we'll start looking soon for our first flat screen TV, considering that's all they sell now.

A New Perspective on Theme Parks

When I was little, we used to go to Conneaut Lake Park in western Pennsylvania at least once or twice a summer. CLP just happened to be where my parents met when they were working there for a summer during college. So I'm sure they have lots of fond and interesting memories of it also.

My memories of it usually revolve around the sheer fun of it -- there was so much for kids to do. It was the one place I looked forward to going to each summer. They had rides (although at that point, I was nowhere near the thrill-ride junkie I am not; in fact, I was scared to death of them); they had a petting zoo; they had this place called Fairyland Forest; they had midway games; and they had an arcade.

I did dare to ride a few things like a mini-roller coaster called the Wild Mouse and their version of the Tilt-a-Whirl the last few times I went to CLP. They did have this thing called The Hell Hole that I never did go on though because it just looked ominous and my parents always told me I was too little.

I spent some serious bank in the arcade there. And of course, I'm sure my parents spent more than a fair amount just getting us into the park and for tickets to do everything we wanted to.

We moved to the Carolinas though after my fifth grade year and haven't been back to CLP since. Over the years since then, the park has had alot of financial difficulties, changed ownership a few times, and hasn't been open in over a year. They had a pretty big fire in the old dance hall there last year also. I think that's really sad. It was such a magical place for children.

But now I think I've found my adult equivalent.

During our vacation last week to Gatlinburg/Pigeon Forge, TN, my wife I decided to go to Dollywood. As I have been every other time we've been to the area, I was reluctant to go to Dollywood - period. I have issues with the fact that a lot of entertainment venues seem to like to take advantage of people with high priced foods and souveniers. And I figured Dollywood would not be worth it and would just be another place that sucks hordes of money from its patrons.

So when I paid for our tickets to get into the park my thought was "This better be worth the money I just plunked down."

It ended up being very worth it - and then some. We ended up upgrading our tickets to season passes before the end of our first day there, for a very nominal fee, which can be used for the last few days of 2008 and all of the 2009 season.

I always thought that the shows I saw at Carowinds (outside Charlotte, NC) and Six Flags over Georgia were really dorky. I understand now though that that is how those performers make a living, they truly are talented, and they obviously must enjoy their job to be able to put these performances on four or five times a day, seven days a week, for 9 months at a time. We saw a total of five shows - and each one of them were really awesome - from an adaptation of Babes in Toyland, to an Appalachian bluegrass group performing Christmas carols, to a musical about the birth of Jesus. I came away wishing they had a few more shows to see.

We didn't do a whole lot of rides - just two roller coasters for me, some sort of combination tilt-a-whirl that rocks back and forth that we both rode, and then the carousel. And we did ride the Dollywood Express, an authentic coal-fired locomotive that does a five mile trip through and around the park. We rode it at night so there were few spots where it literally was pitch black as we were winding through the trees outside the park.

What we really enjoyed was going to church service in the park and seeing some demonstrations at some of the specialty shops - like glass blowing, blacksmithing, and carriage building. I really wish I had had my Nikon with me, but I was not about to take something that expensive into Dollywood. I kept telling myself "Oh, that would be such an awesome shot - I wish I had my D40 with me" --- like the gentleman who was painting the glass beads on Christmas decorations, or the one who was putting a wagon wheel together. And some decent pictures of the bald eagles that they have in the park would have been cool too.

So all in all it was very worth it. And I think I've come full circle now on from my favorite childhood amusement park to my favorite adulthood theme park.

Turning Up the Radio

I've got a habit, call it bad, call it good, call it what you will, that my wife can't stand.

I like to listen to loud music in the car -- not just loud, really loud. I have to make sure that after I get done driving her car alone that I turn the volume back down to zero, or she is not a happy camper after she gets in the car.

Other than with my wife, I've only ever gotten in trouble for my loud music was one time in high school at an after- football-game-gathering at the local baptist church when some friends and I were in my car listening to probably something like Guns -n- Roses, at full blast, and a police officer came over to me and told me to turn it down.

My other bad habit when I drive is speeding... which is something I try not to do when people are in the car with me. I've gotten into my share of trouble with that over the years. But that's not really relevant to this post.

Recently, after running across the video for Cinderella's "Shake Me", from their Night Songs album, on YouTube, I've gotten back into my 80s metal music. So much that I've burned myself three CDs worth of my favorite metal songs from the 80s and early 90s and have had them on constant rotation in the car for the last month or so, at full blast.

They range from the aforementioned Cinderella song, to RATT, Great White, Lita Ford, Ozzy, Winger (hey Kip's actually a pretty good singer and Reb plays some kick-ass guitar), Firehouse, Guns, the Crue, Quiet Riot, Firehouse, and Fiona, to name a few.

I don't know what it is about this genre of music for me, but everytime I go awhile between periods of listening to it, I fall in love with it even more.It's like a fine wine - it just gets better with age. The screaming guitar riffs, the high-pitched vocals.... it just takes me back.

Metal took a lot of hits and crap throughout the 90s and early 2000s. They took Headbanger's Ball away.... Van Halen couldn't keep a lead singer; Axl went nuts (although he made an awesome comeback on Sebastian's latest CD "Angel Down"); Jani Lane and Vince Neil both got fat; Brett Michaels became a judge on Nashville Star... WTF?

Thankfully, metal and 80s style hard rock are making a comeback in a big way. In the last year, White Lion, Dokken, Whitesnake, Sebastian Bach, Night Ranger, Loverboy, the Crue, Asia, Def Leppard, Journey, Foreigner, and a host of others, have released screaming hot new CDs.

A little off track again... getting back to the main story here....

So I had to make a late-night Wal-Mart run tonight about 10:30. I popped one of my new homemade discs in, cranked the radio, and, since it was nice outside, rolled the window down. I was jamming the whole way to Wally World.

As I was about to make the turn from Wade Hampton Boulevard to go into the parking lot of our local Nasty Mart, I turned the music down to about a quarter of the way up on the volume dial. I was still having a good time jamming to the music as I hunted down a parking spot. Pulled in, listened to the remaining 30 seconds of the song, shut the radio off, rolled up the windows, powered down the car, and got out.

Then this dude unlocking the door of the car next to me says, "Hey, was that Danger Danger?"

I just started laughing.

"Uh.... yeah," I just sort of said, dumbfounded. Danger Danger was one of those metal bands that hit kind of late (their first album was released in 1989) and had to try to stay above water while grunge and alternative took over the airwaves. They're one of the lesser known metal bands, but still absolutely awesome. They're supposed to be releasing a new album this year.

"I haven't heard 'Bang, Bang' in years. Thanks man. The little bit I heard was a trip," he replies, laughing.

We chatted for a few minutes about the genre, who are favorites are, how its making a comeback. It was a really fun, 10-minute conversation.

There's a metal concert series each summer called Rocklahoma. They just had the 2008 concert. It's a week-long event. There were a ton of rockin' metal bands that just played there. I'd love to go to the 2009 concert. Doubt that will happen though --- but in the meantime, I'll just keep my metal CDs in rotation and the volume turned up.

The Last Hurrah of the Rabbit Ears?

My wife and I have never had our cable TV or internet with our current provider go out due to an electrical storm. On the random occasions when it's been out, they've never really given us an explanation.

We had gotten out of Praise Team practice at our church this evening about 8:30 when it started to thunder and lightning pretty intensely. We hadn't eaten dinner so we decided to stop by our favorite local meat&three/grease joint. As we were eating, the lightning was getting closer and the thunder was getting louder. Then here comes the local fleet of fire trucks barreling down the road past the restaurant in full response mode.

"There goes Scott," I said to my wife. Scott is a friend of ours from church who is a member of the local fire department.

Knowing some nasty rain was about to start dropping, we hurried up, got in the car and headed home. It poured for about half of the way home and then stopped, along with the lightning and thunder.

"Crazy Upstate storms," I thought.

When we got in, we turned on the TV to check the local weather -- and we saw snow. I went into the office to check the Internet connection. Nothing.

Called our cable provider's service line. They said the electrical storm had knocked out service for a large part of the county, and they would call us when it was restored. I still haven't received that call.

Top Chef was about to come on, which we both wanted to watch. Now we couldn't. Neither of TVs were picking up any air signals on their own.

Then my wife asked, "Don't we have a box somewhere of all kinds of wires? Can't you rig something up?"

Yeah, sure. I'll McGyver something together. So as I hunted through our storage closet, I found the box I was looking for --- and inside was the set of rabbit ears that that my dad had bought probably 20 years ago or more at Radio Shack and I had taken to college. Sweet, let's give these a try.

I was hoping they would come out of the box with a coax adapter attached. No such luck. I did some more rummaging and found one. I did a little bit of repair work on one of the wires, crossed my fingers, and connected the rabbit ears to the TV.

Snow.

Ok, time to pirouette with the antenna, bend over backwards, point my finger in the air like John Travolta and see what we get. After some manuvering of the antenna to and fro, turning of its dial back and forth, and bracing one of the ears on the window curtain, we were set.

They picked up pretty good -- all of the immediate local channels and even, to a degree, the ABC signal coming down from the mountains of North Carolina.

"Enjoy it while it lasts honey," I said, "Next year this time, this isn't going to work."

H-Day. Feb 16, 2009. The day when all the TV stations are to have stopped broadcasting analog signals.

Maybe the the first electrical stom to take out our cable will end up being the last time I take out the rabbit ears. If that winds up being the case, they just got their last 75 minute hurrah.

I'll keep them around until then. But I'm not sure if after that February day next year I'll keep them stuffed in that box or throw them out. I really would have no reason to keep them around, other than as a prop for a forthcoming "When I was your age, I didn't have millions of little 0's and 1's coming down a beam of light into the TV. I used this baby right here to pick up TV signals" anecdote to be told to my yet-to-be-born children.