Steve Hansen
Hey, Steve Hansen here with my initial blog/column/missive. Skeey has been hounding me for years to write a column for their multimedia empire. After lengthy negotiations involving disagreements on creative control and financial terms, we have come to terms that are mutually beneficial:
Skeey gets 5-8 additional hits on their website and a patron at the Parkside Lounge (probably more of a benefit to TKB but whatever, it was negotiated in good faith).
Hansen gets a Huggard and Ewing T-Shirt ("H&A") and the rights to all donkey related graphics ("DRG") CK made for the defunct StephenHansen.com.
Anyways, being a Donald Trump apologist, I too like to brag about the gaudy deals that I cut each and every day. This is just the latest in my collection of home run transactions.
Ok, to the nonsense at hand. I had an iPod. Well, I had two iPods and needed to jettison the older one b/c what is the point of having two hard drives with identical music? Plus, the new one plays videos on a screen the size of my graphing calculator from 11th grade.
Anyways, rather than putting this iPod on Craigslist or Ebay, I decided to market this pocket sized jukebox to my friend Brendan (About.com ProBasketball Guide and amateur historian on Faces/Traces of Death movies). Since we both have perfected the art of the deal, the negotiation lasted three minutes and involved betting on fantasy football teams (which may or may not be akin to betting on John Madden football when the computer plays itself). Since our loser fantasy football bet ended in a tie, he got it at the middle price. If we were a soccer team, we'd be called Idiots United or FC Freaks (after all, this is the same guy who was equally as excited about letting me borrow his family's Monsignor's robe (family somehow had Monsignor's robes in storage) and wearing it during Lundi Gras in New Orleans).
[note from Skeey editors: parentheses within parentheses? Is that legal? We're looking into it.]
The delivery of the iPod took place at the swank Delfriscos Bloated Steakhouse in New York City, where fittingly, we had our end of the season fantasy football prom (I mean dinner). Once a year the group gets together and basically add new wrinkles to classic stories, plan the next Vegas trip, discuss rule changes for the league and let out silent farts. It's a true meeting of the mindless. At the conclusion of the dinner (and before the unecessary tour of the wine cellar), I gave Brendan the iPod. I would later have no idea what that moment meant with regards to my manhood.
Fast forward to Sunday night. After digesting a tough Patriots loss, awful weather, and a slight degree of cabin fever, it was time to further do nothing and check my email. There flashed an email from Btmcgove at 8:30pm with the subject, "iPod". I thought that maybe he was thanking me, maybe there was some technical issues with the iPod, or maybe he wanted some customer support. I never thought the issue was with artistic direction of the former owner. Brendan decided to cut to the chase and immediately bring to the forefront that certain Celine Dion music was found on my iPod. Now, being a fan of the Canadien music front (Red Rider, Rush, BNL, Bryan Adams, Alan Thicke Project, et al) I respect what our friends from the North have done for popular music. In fact, I wrote about Subdivisions for my 10th grade book report (to better explain how fellow classmates reacted to this project, every girl wrote about the Joshua Tree album and my buddy Crokester described the importance of C&C Music Factory). I will go one step further and say, without hesitation, that I LOVED the Behind the Music on Ms. Dion (anyone who marries their manager who is 30 plus years older is must see TV). I will not, repeat NOT, accept the notion that my love for Canadien music extends towards Celine's pop ballards or her waifish figure and that I intentionally added her to my catalog.
Did I see Titanic? Yes. Did I like it? (is anyone looking?) Yes. Did I like the Dion song? No. Do I like Celine's music? No. Do I like Canada? Yes.
Ok, that sums up nothing but what sums up everything is the fact that the Dion derived from my wife's collection when I allowed her to download the songs onto my iPod before she got herself an iPod Shuffle. Now, that doesn't excuse the fact that I didn't remove this elevator music from the iPod but it doesn't incriminate me either. I have a soft spot for some "interesting" musical acts such as Jack Wagner, Elton John, Bronski Beat, Cyndi Lauper, and Damn Yankees. You can mock all you want because I will not hide behind the cool music curtain and pretend that these acts are not on my iPod. If I had time, I would defend each of these titans of music but i'll let them each stand on their own. HOWEVER, the Dion allegations were hurtful and lacking any merit. Brendan went for the jugular when he decided to coldly erase ALL Rush songs and BNL as well. He went on to state that Cowboy Mouth, the Darkness and the Stone Roses were under review. Pretty diabolical and assassin like if you ask me. Let's just say that he's under review, as a friend.
So if this was a GI Joe episode, what is the moral at the end?
- If you are selling your iPod to a friend, make sure you are vigilant in your review of your collection (The Dion corollary)
- Don't hide it, celebrate the music that makes your commute fantastic and fabulous (The Wagner Theorem)
- Don't trust a guy who enjoys Faces of Death a little too much
Good day.