B-sides, vol. 5

Some "Takes on Life" quickies not worthy of a full version that hit me while on a road trip recently:

• What is the intrinsic interest in adult bookstores when driving on the interstate? Why does everyone feel compelled to look over at the big neon "ADULT" sign and the loudly painted aluminum-sided edifice as they pass by? It's astonishing to me, because I -- and seemingly every other driver and passenger around me -- do this without failure, and usually without commenting. We say nothing; we just look over curiously and nonchalantly. I'm not sure what we expect to see (a spontaneously naked woman running out of the store with sex toys waving in hand, perchance?), but they are definitely eye magnets. Try driving past an adult bookstore one day without looking over. Feels weird, really weird. Unnatural, even.


• There are three types of purveyors of unforgivable evil in this world: terrorists, rapists, and late-mergers in traffic. Seriously, who or what is more despicably sinister than someone who bombs innocent people, someone who forever corrupts the mind and body of another person with graphic nonconsensual force, and someone who flies ahead of all patient drivers by using a highway median, shoulder, or every square inch of the tapering lane because they're too important to wait out the construction or accident cleanup, only to somehow nudge his way into the narrowest of spaces between bumpers? Although there actually is logical rationale for waiting until the last minute to merge into a line of cars (the line will in fact be shorter and somewhat more streamlined), I can assure you with all that is sacred in my life that that is not the guy's reason for his NASCAR move. It's the most selfish non-criminal act I can think of. The hazardousness of the hurried move aside, we all want this guy to suffer like the rest of us. ...Perhaps the fourth type in this list is the sap who ends up letting this late-merger over.


• If during a breast cancer awareness convention a man unexpectedly comes to the stage and speaks about another form of cancer -- say, prostate cancer -- I wonder if he would be applauded or booed. If booed, would that be an appropriate reaction? I mean, cancer is cancer, and awareness of cancer is awareness in general, and a cure for cancer is just that, so... why segregate? Let the dude speak!

Ringtones

I've had the same cell phone for three years now. The once-impeccable, once-ground-breaking camera feature snaps only blurred, poorly pixilated pictures due to an unknown injury sustained by the lens at some point; one keypad button is finally beginning to not function properly, requiring multiple attempts to enter a '3'; and while others' phones come equipped with topographical maps of any geographical coordinate in the world, my cell phone's big bragging right is its E-Z Tip Calculator feature, which computes (1) simple money-related math that could be done by any fourth-grader and (2) the same answers for the same math problems that you could have used the regular calculator feature for. Its digital face and diminutive size are about the only things keeping it from being mistaken for a "Saved by the Bell" prop.

However, it gains my respect with its very limited selection of ringtones. All I have are the basics: the standard cell phone ring, a few more uptempo versions of the standard cell phone ring, and something that vaguely resembles the "Happy Birthday" song, I suppose to pathetically and self-righteously garner congratulatory wishes for your day-long celebration with every call received in that 24-hour period.

Personally, I like the standard cell phone ringtone. Why? Because it sounds like a cell phone ringtone. When someone calls me, I can't confuse it for a jack-in-the-box or a youth group trip to the roller rink.

I know this makes me unpopular, but, man, I despise those Top-40 ringtones. It's one of those creative, marketable ideas someone came up with and acted on without first experimenting with it in public. There's no 12-second snippet of any song's chorus that sounds good coming out of a Canadian dime-size speaker. And hearing the same, sudden blitzkrieg of noise repeat three to five times per call wears me out. And it's not even my cell phone on my hip -- I'm just the victimized bystander to the onslaught of noise pollution. I have no idea how that doesn't get on the owner's nerves for each call. Doesn’t the novelty diminish by the third phone call?

I suppose if we were in a club, or it was 1989 and we were playing basketball on a concrete court with chain nets, the ringtone would match the atmosphere. But the "ringtune" and the atmosphere agree maybe 2% of the time; otherwise, it sounds tackier than words can describe. Think of the last time you heard a random chorus blare from a cell phone in/at one of the following locations: church, class, work (especially a meeting), library, wedding, funeral, movie theater, restaurant, or anywhere wooded or outdoorsy. Tell me your blood didn't immediately curdle with animosity at the annoyance of that ringtone. And you're kidding yourself if you say the annoyance isn't worse when it's an actual song fragment.

As if I needed yet another reason to not like the Black Eyed Peas.