Smash Lab, which Discovery is trying to piggyback on Mythbusters, isn’t bad, just like Hershey’s kisses aren’t bad. But if you eat a kiss right after savoring a piece of Ghirardelli Toffee Interlude, it will taste like wax. Likewise, watching Smash Lab after Jamie and Adam’s antics only serves to drive home the point that more money does not make a better show.

Mythbusters excels on two points: 1) They don’t sweat the small stuff, which causes some amusing incidents in the workshop (Mike on Dirty Jobs does the same), but 2) when the chips are down, the Mythbusters are attentive enough to make sure the myth gets tested with reasonable accuracy.

Smash Lab gets it backwards: They pull out all the stops during development, welding where Mythbusters would duct tape, using specialized machinery where the Mythbusters would fab their own, but then they skimp on things like experimental controls. They are also prone to making last-minute, untested adjustments to their experiments. Lame.

I hope Discovery did not pay for Smash Lab with the cash they saved by not sponsoring the greatest cycling team ever. I also hope Smash Lab goes the way of “Build it Bigger.”

Ben learned how to use my protractor today. I showed him that all angles of a triangle will add to 180. He took that idea and ran with it. Not bad, though he did make some rounding errors (degrees were marked in tens).

Chapter 6: Looks bigger than a nickel.

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“Oh. You’re here.” Brooke didn’t sound too excited, but that was only because she was exhausted already. “We just got here, they’re bringing Miles in now.”

Miles was the kind of child parents worry about. He wasn’t a troublemaker, but he had a tendency to get into mischief. He was cute as a button, but wouldn’t think twice before disobeying directions, even orders. When he was in trouble, denial was more frequent than contrition. “I not in trouble!” he would say, “I not on timeout!” When his tort was undeniable, he would look for some place to hide, covering his eyes as a last resort.

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I’ve heard it said that a true “renaissance man” knew enough about everything that he couldn’t be fooled into anything. Over time, I think this shifted to “being skeptical about everything.”

Today, if you know too much about too much, you’re labeled a “geek.” (Which, fortunately, carries less stigma than when I was a youth. Brooke proudly wears her t-shirt.) Rather than their knowledge protecting them from con artists, this generation of geeks are defined more by their ability to laugh at random, esoteric intertextuality. In other words, they find enjoyment when two (or more) constructs are combined to create something new.

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I’ll start by saying that drivers here are not as rude as Californians, nor as unpredictable as Utahans. They do have their quirks though.

First, they sometimes drive really slowly, which is a big problem on the two-lane roads that are the only way to get anywhere.

Second, they don’t know how to use dummy lanes or shoulders to turn. Remember: Signal, begin to decelerate, then pullover as soon as it is safe. Here, they practically stop in the middle of the lane, sometimes swinging wide to make the turn.

And, finally, they don’t know how to park.

I also updated the photo album. Email me if you don’t have a password to the family section.

Last week, Ben misbehaved badly in public, so we took away a week of computer time. So, tonight, as we were prodding him to practice his piano, he made the following bargain.

“There’s something you could say that would get me to practice. If you told me that I would get my computer time back if I practiced piano, I would do it.”

I thought it over, then proposed this counteroffer: “If you don’t practice your piano right now, you will lose another week of computer time.”

“That would get me to do it.”

Most blogs highlight the stupidity, rudeness, and incompetence of people the blogger meets everyday. Although I subscribe to Margaret’s mantra of, “Be competent or go away,” I also like to highlight when people do more than expected.

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Chapter 5: He’s on oxygen.

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The ER was packed, but there was only one person, a large woman in a hospital wheelchair, in front of the admittance desk. A lone nurse sat on the other side bravely attempting to decipher the woman’s comments.

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Chapter 4: That’s not it.
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Jake arrived sooner than Jeremy had anticipated. “I’ve never been to this airport, so you’ll have to show me the way out,” he commented to Jeremy after telling his and his wife’s part of the story.

“Follow this left, and then turn right. I think Strong is just a couple of exits South on 390.” A moment later a sign appeared reading, “Strong Memorial Hospital, Next Right,” followed by an exit, and then nothing. “I think you go left. That looks like a hospital.” It was a hospital, but, “that’s not it. That’s Monroe Community, not Strong.”

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This is my third attempt at writing a review for Half-Life 2, the sequel to the greatest video game ever made. My first attempt was overly critical and my second was too flowery. I wanted to say it was a great game (I sure had a lot of fun playing it… twice), but something held me back. It wasn’t until last night, when I came to the end of the fourth installment in the series, that I realized the glaring problem with HL2 and its sequels, Episodes 1 and 2.

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