Growing up in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s, we kids knew there was a condition in our home for watching TV. Our dad had a firm rule that the commercials had to be turned down! As this was before the invention of remote control devices and “Mute” buttons, it involved jumping up from your seat as soon as a commercial break started, running to the TV set and turning the volume knob counterclockwise all the way. Then the whole process would be repeated in reverse once the show was back on. He did this because he wanted to spare us (and the adults) from the experience of having commercial jingles running in our heads (or humming them around the house). In those days, most commercials contained a jingle (song) written specifically for the product, and they were indeed quite catchy. A few must have snuck through from those infrequent times when commercials weren’t turned down — to this day, I can sing you the opening bars of “Wouldn’t you really rather have a Buick?” or “Winston tastes good, like a cigarette should.” (Yes, cigarette commercials were allowed on TV for part of that time.)

Thinking about all of this made me wonder when exactly jingles went away, as they are very rare now. A television viewer from that era would be put off by what we see today ... commercials now to involve a lot of action/motion and quick cuts. (I could do with fewer quick cuts, myself.)

Photo is a modified version of a Flikr photo by theterrifictc.

Case in point: these two wagons were for sale locally, for relatively low prices. When compared to the original prices, the BMW was an incredible steal. However, the BMW will end up costing way more than the Ford, in practically every way you can imagine. (Trust me on this; I had an old BMW for a few years.)

But every single minute behind the wheel of the 528 (when it is running OK, that is) will be way more enjoyable than every minute behind the wheel of the Escort.

You must pick your poison.

(And I dream of poison. When I saw that BMW, I thought a little too long on how fun it would be to have it. Alas, we will continue to drive one of the most boring — and practical — cars on the planet, the Toyota Corolla.)

I don’t say that to brag. It was part of our visit to my sister and her family, who live in Belgium.

Anyhow, one afternoon, my oldest son Jay and I decided to stroll along the Champs-Elysees, a famous avenue in the city known for its romantic cafes and luxury specialty shops.

Needless to say, we didn’t sip coffee at a sidewalk cafe. However, we thoroughly enjoyed visiting a Fiat/Lancia/Alfa Romeo shop/museum. (Jay is next to the wonderful Alfa Romeo Mito, a car that sadly won’t be making it to the USA.)

One surreal moment was seeing scores of Chinese people getting wedding pictures taken in front of the Arc de Triomphe.

The point of this story? My romantic dream of experiencing The Champs-Elysees involved a leisurely brunch at one of those cafes. That didn’t happen. What did happen may have been even better — a fun afternoon with my son that we’ll probably both remember for the rest of our lives.

p.s. Heather and I did enjoy a romantic evening in Paris. We had dessert at a divey bar, not on the Champs-Elysees.

Papermate recently released their InkJoy series of pens. I bought a 6-pack (well, 4) and love the writing pleasure this pen provides. It glides across the page unlike anything else I’ve tried.

It’s a ballpoint, so the ink is maybe more permanent than a gel pen’s. And it just glides more smoothly than a gel pen ever could.

Oh — my color of choice is blue — people are more prone to believe it’s real. (That line of thinking goes back to the xerox days — when black always meant a copy.)

Finally, no disclosure needed. I bought these with my own money. Office Depot advertized them, and the ad convinced me to give them a try. I’m glad I did.

My Sony is a just few steps above a basic point-and-shoot, and yet it takes HD video and renders amazing sharpness in very low-light situations, such as when I shot this bass guitar. (This unretouched shot was taken while someone was playing this bass!)

A huge factor in my purchase of a digital camera is that it must fit in my pocket. If I have to carry around a huge honking camera, I guarantee I would take less photos than I take now. “In the ballpark” quality is better than no shot at all.

Since that was before Christmas, our neighbor had his massive light display on — even though some of it got buried in snow.

You can easily see the house from I-70, the largest highway that goes from Denver through the mountains, over to Utah. But this was the closest I had been to the house.

This house has been for sale several times since we’ve lived in Denver — most recently last October. I remember one of those times, it was in a sad state. The newspaper article mentioned that it was falling apart. I think it has been refurbished a few times since then. The owner before the most recent sale had a $3.4 million mortgage on the home. It sold for $1.5 million. (Ouch!)

It’s a little dark in the context of your optimistic beginning-of-a-new-year moods, but I still think it’s entertaining.

Once there was a cruel and clever king. He lived in a large castle on a high hilltop, overlooking a beautiful green valley and a lake. In those days, a dragon took up residence in the kingdom. The dragon let it be known that he would destroy all the villages one by one unless he was given a beautiful virgin to eat. When the King heard this, he grew angry and turned red in the face. He bellowed, “We do not negotiate with terrorists!” (The King liked to refer to himself using the royal “We.”) He refused to meet the dragon’s demands.

To show his contempt for the dragon and disdain for the serfs, the King made his courtiers put on a comedic play where a dragon ate a whole village. The role of the dragon was played by the largest and fattest noble. Each time he “ate” a villager, he let out a loud, convincing belch. Sitting next to the King, his only child, the lovely (and virginal) Sesbeth, did not laugh. She was as kind as her father was cruel. Sesbeth loved the people of the kingdom, and they loved her. Despite all of that, her father treasured Sesbeth more than all else in the world. In his cold, cruel heart, he had a soft spot for his daughter.

Not having received his tribute of a lovely virgin, one bright morning the dragon flew over the village of Mossfelk, breathing flames and burning everything to the ground. Upon hearing this, the King stubbornly refused to change his stance. “No negotiating!” he shouted again, although perhaps with a bit less conviction. Over the next few days the dragon destroyed two more villages, Humpert and Rosehearth.

Now the King began to worry. If all his villages were destroyed, where would he get his annual tribute of gold? Who would harvest the food that spread across his dinner table? He summoned his court wizard, the ancient and wise Albrey. The King told Albrey of a plan he had devised, and required him to fashion a doppelganger for Sesbeth. The faux Sesbeth would be exactly like her in every way except one. She would be ensorcelled with a powerful spell that would instantly destroy her killer.

Albrey immediately set about researching the task, searching through his spellbooks. He also quietly gathered bits and pieces of from the life of Princess Sesbeth, such as one of her neglected childhood dolls, a scarf she no longer wore, and bits of her hair from a used hairbrush. Finally he began creating the doppelganger, working through the night. Just to have a name for his project, he decided to call her Tesh. People in the castle didn’t know what was going on, but they saw mysterious flashes of light and heard rumbling noises, and they wondered.

Finally Albrey was finished. He secretly brought Tesh to the King’s quarters. The King walked slowly around Albrey’s creation, whistling as he admired the result. “She’ll do,” he said. Albrey explained that Tesh could only exist for ten days, at which point she would disappear in a puff of smoke. The King called for his Captain of the Guard. He ordered that the most trustworthy and brave guard be brought to him. Moments later, a sturdy guard named Morrt stepped into the King’s chambers. He appeared somewhat nervous, but also resolute in his posture as he awaited the King’s orders. The Captain was dismissed, and the King told Morrt what he wanted. Referring to Tesh, he started with “She looks like the Princess, but it’s not her.” Morrt was to take Tesh away under a cloak and hide her in a remote chamber within the castle until she could be taken to the dragon’s den.

Sesbeth awoke the next morning feeling apprehensive. Something was wrong. She couldn’t say what was wrong, but she felt strangely compelled to go to the tallest tower in the castle, and the tower chamber where prisoners were sometimes kept. There, she met Morrt. She compelled him to tell her what was going on. At first he resisted, but eventually the Princess’ beauty and gentle nature defeated his fear of the Captain and King, and her told her what he knew.

Not knowing anything about the magical aspects of Tesh’s creation or her hidden nature, Sesbeth was horrified that this lookalike girl would be sacrificed in her place. She quickly decided what she must do.

That afternoon, Morrt rode out. On the horse beside him rode a cloaked figure. The King watched from his window high above the courtyard and gate, finally turning away when they left his view.

Two days passed, including the expected time of the dragon’s next village attack, but no attack came. Indeed, the King’s scouts reported that it appeared the dragon had left the kingdom! Receiving the news, the King rushed through the castle until he found his daughter, eager to celebrate her survival and the success of his scheme.

As he approached Sesbeth, however, he noticed her expression, an odd sort of grim, wide smile. Then she threw her head back and laughed, a loud, guttural cackle. The King immediately knew something was wrong. An instant later, he realized what had happened — the girl who stood before him was not Sesbeth, but rather the wizard’s creation, Tesh. His compassionate daughter must have figured out what was happening, and sacrificed herself instead. In his rage and grief, the King drew the jewel encrusted dagger he always wore from the sheath at his belt, and fiercely plunged it deep into Tesh’s chest. Only then did he remember the terrible spell, and his mighty cry was quickly silenced as the he and Tesh each disintegrated into twin piles of ashes.