Procrastinet

Well I'll be Bugaboo'd

As many, many folks can attest, I am a Bugaboo counter-snob. The advent of the Bugaboo Frog, with a basic price of $800 and a package price (with cribby thingy, covers, parasol, etc.) of $1100+ forever skewed the psyche of my generation of parents. Suddenly, spending $300 on a stroller made you look and feel like a heartless cheapskate who doesn't love your kid.

Add to that the impracticality of the Bugaboo non-folding design (okay, yes, it folds, but you have to TAKE IT APART to do so) for those with an urban, apartment-based lifestyle. Then try standing on a crowded subway with one, or being between one and the subway door. And if you don't live in an urban environment, you're transporting your kid by car 90% of the time and a stroller is more or less irrelevent - especially one that costs a thousand bones and eats your whole trunk.

So: I hate Bugaboos. Hate them hate them. Loudly and volubly. And rudely, to the several of our close friends who own them.

Understand, then, the pain that it gives me to announce that on Saturday we registered for one.

Now, and this distinction is critical here, we registered for the Bugaboo Bee, which is the (much) smaller, (much) lighter, (much) more practical version. That said, the fracking thing still costs *mumble mumble* dollars and is a muggerthugging Bugaboo.

Here's what happened: we went to Buy Buy Baby to register for the baby stuff we need for Baby Vou. I did a circuit of the entire stroller area. I had fallen in love with the MicraLite Toro which, while $599 its own damn self, had the vast advantage of not being a Bugaboo.

It also had the questionable design choice of having two large inflatable rear wheels aligned PRECISELY with the plane on which your feet travel when you step forward. Meaning I kicked it in the back wheels EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. I TOOK. A STEP.

So: no.

I tried every other decent looking stroller in the place (with the exception of the Maclarens - after the woeful performance of the wheels/tires on our Maclaren Quest, Lisa has declared a flat and absolute ban on Maclarens), folding them down and setting them up, locking the wheels, reclining the seat. Then I grudgingly stepped over to the Bee to check it out.

It pushes smoothly and steers well. Fine. It's nice and compact, at 20" wide. Great. So, I thought, let's see how it folds - hmm, you fiddle these two little white tabs and WHOA.

The thing collapsed to the floor in a compact bundle. I set it back up again. Okay, thinks I, let's see how the seat WHOA! The release was right where it should be, the seat reclined smoothly all the way down to an infant-friendly horizontal.

Yes, I think, but the handlebar is way too low... hang about, what are these little OH MY - the handle extends effortlessly from midget low to Masai tall.

The sun shade comes down far enough to actually shade your baby from the sun (are you LISTENING, Maclaren?!) The seat is reversible so you can stare at your precious bundle. The under-seat basket is easily accessible and roomy for a stroller of this size.

Did I mention it folds up REALLY, REALLY SMALL?

Quite simply, the Bee is demonstrably better at what a stroller is supposed to do than any of the competition. It costs easily twice as much as it has any reason to cost, and I don't care. It's good looking in the details and ugly as hell in the aggregate. Don't care. Nobody is likely to scoop it up off our registry, meaning we'll be buying it for ourselves. Don't care.

So let the mocking begin. I am trading in my contrarian credentials on this one, and joinging the BugaLegions. I can't wait.

The Weekly Want-It Blows a Fuse: The iPhone

Oh my lordy lordy. There has never - literally never - been a gadget I have so immediately and intensely coveted.

a) It's frickin' gorgeous

b) It integrates all Mac functionality - contacts, calendar, IM, iPhoto, iTunes, Safari - onto one pocketable device

c) Did I mention it's frackin' GORGEOUS?

d) 2MP integrated digital camera. Not a replacement for a real camera, but useable.

Comes out in June. One month after my Verizon account expires, and I have to switch us to Cingular to get me one. I wonder how I'm going to bridge that one-month gap.

GIMME GIMME.

Whoof.

New Link/Obsession

At the bottom of the "Stufflust Central" links on the right, you will see a new link - to Brownstoner, a blog about the Brooklyn real estate (specifically, obviously, townhouse) market. This reflects not only the fact that the site is extremely interesting (at least for those of us who live in Brooklyn - everyone else may get a "how those weirdos over there live" frisson from it but are unlikely to need to visit too often), but that I have immersed my family in another obsession.

Last time, it was real estate upstate, which was eventually derailed by the fact that we - um, how do you say it, again? - oh, that's right, HAVE NO MONEY. I keep forgetting that. This time, hand in hand with my suspicion that the current cool down in the real estate market may be somewhat long-lasting, I've been looking at what we could afford if we were to cash out our theoretical equity by selling our apartment.

As I was looking, I started to notice a small market of sub-$700k 2 family rowhouses, within a block or two of actual Park Slope. They're in a gray area, not yet on the other side of Prospect Expressway (which is absolutely South Slope or, more accurately, Greenwood Heights, no matter what the listings say), but beyond the south edge of the Park and a few blocks farther from the crunchy glamour of Slope Proper.

So yesterday we stopped by a couple open houses. FUN! We've been in our current place for four and a half years, and when we bought that we weren't even shopping - we came and looked at this place, liked it, and bought it. Before that, we were renting, and ended up renting one of the first apartments we looked at. So we haven't really experienced real estate shopping as married grown-ups.

That said, the stuff we could realistically afford is pretty limited. Okay, very limited. 16' wide rowhouses do *not* offer a lot of living space, even if they do have three floors. And the ones that are under $700k are not in very good shape. They do have yards, which is the real killer. But they all felt cramped and depressing, like a run down Hobbit Hole.

We returned to our apartment, which we've been taking somewhat for granted lately, and revelled afresh in the 11' ceilings. We have for the moment resolved to get it into better shape rather than looking to move - once I (finally!) finish the bathroom downstairs, I'm going to look at putting built-in floor-to-ceiling bookshelves along our entry wall. And someday maybe we'll actually get up the nerve to try to buy a part of our neighbor's back yard, which butts up against our rear windows. There's a 8'x10' part of it, behind our bedroom, that they never use, which has become overgrown with a weed tree (as in, a junk tree that grows fast like a weed, not as in a gigantic marijuana plant). So we're betting that the offer of several thousand bucks in the bank will outweight the conceptual benefit of an unused few feet of yard.

In the meantime, we'll also be saving up (someday) to move onto our new Favorite Block In The Whole Wide World (which we just discovered last night on a post-dinner stroll, a failed attempt to get Max to knock out before 10pm): Fuller Place in Windsor Terrace (a few blocks east of us).

On both sides of the street, impeccable brick three-story townhouses all have front porches and gardens. It's about the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and has become our new seven-year plan...

Finger on the Pulse, Baby, Finger on the PULSE

So last week, because it was all I could really get my head around, I wrote a paean to naps and napping.

And now, I see I was ahead of a rising zeitgeistian wave:

Today on Gizmodo, the NAPMOSPHERE!

Oh my goodness gracious, I want me one!

The New Baby

And there she is. She's been christened "Io" - I'm not sure why. When Lisa asked me "what's her name" that was what came out. And it goes nicely with Lisa's iBook's name, which is Imogen.

It's very strange to actually own something that you've been obsessing about for five or six months.

More pictures after the jump - apparently, I'm one of the very early recipients of the new PowerBook, so there's been some interest on the Apple forums (primarily AppleNova at ThinkSecret - a great resource for Mac info). Those of you with no interest in computers... move along, there's nothing to see here.

Click on images for slightly bigger version:

Running DreamweaverMX - which was almost impossibly cramped on Imogen when I was designing the Youngblood site.

The Final Cut Express control screen.

Dashboard. Look Ma, widgets! w00t!

Io and Imogen.

Yes, yes, we name our computers. We're weird that way. We name our cars, too. I think once we spend over $1k on something, we want to feel like it's a member of the family...

And finally, a full-sized screenshot (this is 1440x960 and about .5MB, so it's really only for those who HAVE to know what the screen real estate is like).

Consummated

Yesterday at noon, Apple announced upgrades and a price drop to the PowerBook line.

Yesterday at 2pm, I ordered a brand new higher-def bigger video-carded cheaper 15" PowerBook. I sprang for $27 FedEx delivery.

This morning at 11am, my new beautiful girl arrived.

This is the first entry I've posted from her.

I am happy.

Here's a screenshot, for those that want to see what the new higher-def screens are like.

UPDATE: Big, big thank you's to the ProcrastiFolks for sponsoring this wonderful new acquisition as a belated (thanks to six months of me dithering about what and when to buy) but extremely generous birthday gift.

ZOMFG DONFIRMED!!!1!!

So yes, of course I'm waiting with bated breath for the Apple "Special Media Event" at 1pm EST today, which will most likely introduce a video enabled iPod. Whooptie. What I'd really like is for them ALSO to release the overdue updates to the G4 PowerBook, but I'm not sure that's going to happen.

In the meantime, I figured I'd share with my less tech-geeky readers the enjoyable world of "l33t" which is short for "l33tsp33k" which is short for "Leet Speak" which is short for "How The Elite Speak."

l33t (also sometimes 1337) used to be, and supposedly in some corners still is, an online shorthand developed among the gaming community. But in a nifty bit of linguistic evolution, it is now used by the tech cognoscenti to mock "n00bs" - newbies who tend to get overexcited about gadgety announcements.

Leet uses letters in place of number, like instant message shorthand, but has also incorporated typos as intensifiers - hence, "OMFG" ("Oh My F**king God") becomes "ZOMFG" and "confirmed" becomes "donfirmed." Plus hectic capitalization, like including un-capitalized 1s in amongst exclamation points.

It's the first time I've seen a written language incorporate emotion into the syntax itself. Which, because I'm a d0rkz!!1!, I'm way into. Along with the use of "teh" as an intensifier - wikipedia's example is "He is TEH LAME."

Some other fun bits of l33t: pwned (bastardized from "owned," meaning "dominated in competition"); h4xx0r ("hacker"); teh suXX0r (something that sucks really, really bad); teh r0xx0r! (something that rocks really, really hard). And my personal favorite: w00t! Which is basically an onomatopoetic expression of joy.

More info on l33t at Wikipedia...

UPDATE: Looks like a wider, wider-screened iPod 5G. Come on, PowerBook.

Here are some hilarious BoingBoing leet-related posts: a nastrygram from George Lucas' lawyers translated into leet ("You are a dam dirty pirate-haxor-n00b and you can't join our clan"); plus the masterpiece, a leet translation of The Two Towers (teh t0W t0Werz):

[At Isengard, Saruman is with a group of Wildmen of Dunland]
Saruman: "Teh Rohirrim are tards!"
Dunlander: "Sif leet! Damn retards!"
Saruman: "Joo bring teh pwn. Go and pwn those n00bs!"
Crowd of Dunlanders: "WOOT!"

It's a good rainy day to get my g33k on.

UPDATE UPDATE:

ZOMFG

The first Apple product updated is the iMac. The ever-lovin' iMac. With media center capability called "FrontRow" and an iPod-like remote. And yes, a video iPod. And then a still-to-come "Act III" oh my god PLEASE a PowerBook.

Of course, there's very little chance it'll be a PowerBook. New iMac plus media center, new video iPod, then an Act III = likely iTunes AV store... downloadable video blahblah...

[1:41pm - Yup. iTunes with $2 music videos to buy. I would add "*stifles yawn*" but a 30GB video-capable, wider-but-thinner iPod that now comes in black for the same $299 is... really... tempting...]

Funny Rude Brit Alert: Jeremy Clarkson

I discovered Jeremy Clarkson when Jalopnik linked to his horror story about the arrival and subsequent disastrous failure of his beloved but long-delayed Ford GT:

(photo: Peter Tarry)

Clarkson is a car writer for London's Sunday Times and he's one of the funniest muggerpuggers I've run into on these here Internets. He's a cranky git, and his political views are antediluvian - were he an American Southerner, he'd be called "unreconstructed."

But holy crow can this man write about cars. In the last two weeks I've read a couple of his pieces each day, including the ones about cars they don't even sell here: Citroens, Vauxhalls, Rovers, etc.

Each review spends at least half of its length ranting and carping about something, like a warmup standup routine.

Here's a sample of his review of the Lexus GS430, which he prefaces by talking about the 11-year old Japanese exchange student staying with them, who is totally flummoxed by British life (and made actually ill by mashed potatoes):

Like all cars, it has doors, seats, pedals, a steering wheel and lights at the front and the back. But how can this be, when it comes from a people who are baffled by a spoon? How do they make something so instantly recognisable as “a car” when they can’t eat mashed potato without vomiting? We have knives and forks. They have chopsticks. We lie down in the bath. They stand up. We cook food. They don’t. Their culture is completely different from ours, and yet the Lexus, on the face of it, is just the same as a Jaguar, a Mercedes or a BMW.

Except it isn’t. It is much, much quieter. At 70mph it’s so silent you can hear your hair growing. Sitting in your garden after a lovely lunch is more frantic. In the cabin you are so isolated from the real world that you get some idea of what it might be like to be dead.

The six-speed automatic box swaps cogs like an albatross changes direction, and even if you do put your foot down, the big V8 responds by humming, quietly, like it’s in a church arranging flowers. Driving this car is like being wrapped up in a duvet and carried from place to place by a small white cloud.

Oh, and did I mention he's unrepentantly offensive? Here's a sample about the results of a consumer satisfaction survey which, my senses dulled by a decade and a half of American political correctness, made me catch my breath:

Interestingly, the Mercedes M-class came last, chiefly because the dealer network is so appalling but also because it’s made in Alabama, where the locals are good at picking cotton, singing mournful songs and listening to Lynyrd Skynyrd but not so good at attaching complicated pieces of machinery to one another.

Even a brit has to know that making a cotton picking joke takes serious stones and a fine feel for the utterly inappropriate.

If you like cars, or acerbic British humor, or god help you both (like me), go here and just start clicking.

The Wagon

Mom, cover your eyes...

I've always been a fan of wagons. Yes, station wagons. Before car makers were putting them on stilts and calling them "crossovers," I was a fan of the two-box stuffmovers. In high school I would while away my carless hours sitting on our front porch watching traffic go by, sorting the passing cars into "yes" and "no" based on whether I would be seen driving one if one was given to me. Subarus and Volvos always got a resounding yes. I was sixteen.

My second, fourth, fifth and sixth cars were wagons ("Simon," an '86 Subaru; "Little Red," an '84 Subaru; "Val," a '99 Saturn and the last time I will ever own a GM product ever; and currently "Cassie," an '01 VW Passat).

So my interest was piqued when I saw a breadcrumb at the bottom of a Jalopnik article that said "Mercedes E55 AMG Wagon." I read the article and discovered that the usually even-keeled Jalopnik editors had this impression of the uberwagon: "holy fucking shit."

For those that don't dig cars but for some reason are still reading: AMG is Mercedes' in-house "tuner," which super-powers their cars and installs engines hand-built by one engineer, who then affixes a laser-engraved signature on the engine block. Sweeeeet.

Robert Farago at "The Truth About Cars" reviewed this beast, which Jalopnik calls "Mommy's first rocket-ship." The money conclusion: "...if you want a station wagon that's both a wife and a mistress, you MUST try this car."

To which I say: Holy fucking shit.

So now I know that (a) I have to find a way to earn a disposable $80k, (b) I will have to figure out some way to assuage my conscience about getting gas mileage that's probably measured in gallons-per-mile. What's a liberal to do?!

It Couldn't Be That Simple, Could It.

Two days ago, in my last post, I said that an amazing thing had happened - I developed a compulsive WANT IT about something, and circumstances aligned almost immediately to transform that longing into actual ownership.

Then I thought about it more and messed everything up.

I have, at many points in the past, conceived lofty plans for myself and computers. "I'm going to learn graphic design," I'd tell myself. "I'm going to learn webdesign. I'm going to do video editing." This last was the impetus for our choice of our current home machine, the iMac DV Special Edition (mid-2000).

The problem is, I don't spend much time at home. My job is not my career - my career is directing, which don't pay the billz thus far - so I have a lot of 60+ hour weeks when theater work is happening. When I'm home, it's either 6pm after the dayjob when I'm eager to actually see my wife and son, or midnight after rehearsal when I'm eager to go to bed. Weekends are either spent rehearsing or are a happy wasteland of family time and projects. Seldom in the "at home" mix do I motivate to spend hours in front of a computer.

I *do* have time to spare at my dayjob (shhhh don't tell). This is why 98% of all P'net posts are during business hours EST. Which means if new computer ventures are to have a place in my life, they will most likely have a place in my life at work.

Which means I need a laptop.

I'm an Apple devotee looking to do video editing, which means I need a PowerBook. BUT.

The PowerBook line hasn't had a major update in a long time, meaning one is coming. Meaning if I buy one now, at some point in the next 2-12 months I'm going to be seized with a wicked case of buyer's remorse and kick myself until I faint.

So I cancelled the iMac order. Luckily, when they said "Sent to Manufacturing," they didn't actually mean it.

Current rumor forums are wishful-thinkingly looking toward's Steve Job's keynote address on June 6 at a developer's conference for a possible update to the Apple laptop line. I guess I'll wait and see what happens then. If a dual-core G4 carbon fiber 2.0Ghz Hi-Def 15" PowerBook doesn't drop then, I'll drop back ten and punt.

(Note to any hard core geeks googling up this entry looking for PowerBook dirt: the above is purely invented on my part based on trolling some rumor forums. I chose those specs because they sound cool. I know that carbon fiber is unlikely, Freescale is months away from a dual-core CPU etc etc etc.)

Sadly, I'm perfectly well aware that the current PowerBook would be ample for my needs. More than ample, probably. I could order it right now and have a beautiful computer that would do everything I need it to do for years to come.

I just can't stand to spend over $2k for something that I know is likely to get trumped in the "WOW HOLY CRAP LOOK AT THAT" department sooner rather than later.

The Weekly Want-It Actually Gets It: iMac G5 2nd Gen

Thanks to the astounding generosity of the ProcrastiParents, a Weekly WANT IT has quickly blossomed into a GETTING IT. Last week Apple announced their update of the iMac G5, which bumped the specs so significantly that even the message boards at Apple Insider were full of praise rather than griping and bitching. I fell immediately in love and began lunchtime trips to J&R to look at them, and started the prep work on getting Lisa to approve a purchase.

Then my folks decided to give us a computer for my birthday.

As our main home computer is a five year old iMac DV Special Edition, it was pretty much time for an upgrade anyway. The old computer, while still in astoundingly good working order, is creaking along on photo applications and has (despite its name) never been able to edit video more than haltingly.

So Apple is currently processing my order for a spankin' new 20-inch unit, stock except for a 1-DIMM 1GB RAM upgrade. The 20 inchers are almost vulgarly large, but oh boy is that widescreen display pretty, and after the cramped 15" of the graphite iMac it's going to feel like a wealth of real estate.

I have a history of buying Apple products immediately BEFORE a major update (Lisa's iBook is probably one of the last 800mhz ones they sold before shipping the 1.0ghz models, any the 6GB iPod mini launched about 2 weeks after I got my 4GB for the same money and 1/3 of the battery life), so it feels good to jump on the rising wave of this one. I'm sure this will give us at least four or five years before I'm allowed to start grumbling again.

UPDATE:

Special Bonus Nana Sanna WANT IT: Bissell 2070 Quicksteamer Powerbrush Lightweight Deep Cleaner - let us know how it works!

Remote Control Spy Car? REMOTE CONTROL SPY CAR!!!

The eternal thirteen-year-old in me has died and gone to heaven:

Some brilliant, brilliant soul has invented a remote control car with a camera hidden behind the windshield, which transmits live full-color video to a screen on the remote.

I have no words.

Jalopnik has these:

Is it wrong that we can’t think of a single use for this video-equipped RC car that wouldn’t put us on the wrong end of a “people vs.” case?

My answer: Brother, if it's wrong, I don't wanna be right.

Anyway, the product image itself shows a girl in a bikini on the little screen. Sunbathing. With her top down. So they're not exactly relying on your imagination to figure out the potentialities.

And yes, it has a line out so you can record the video. Of course. Of course it does. And a microphone, so you can listen in. On, you know. Whatever.

The moral of the story is: if you're a girl, in a locker room, and a little red and black remote control car comes in - don't let it see your hoo-ha.

In an effort to give the things a purpose beyond outright pervery, these cars can play laser tag against each other.

WICKED.

No Worse Zealot than a Convert

Awright, awright. The frickin iPod rules. I'm so madly in love with the damned thing that I've started annoying *myself* on the subway.

Spent all weekend ripping discs - it was nice, in a cro magnon kind of way, to look at the stacks (and stacks) of ripped discs with the little teensy blue wonder sitting next to them HOLDING ALL OF THEIR MUSIC. Yahaaa! Go technology, go!

I have, however, realized what has made iPods so ubiquitous: they are the ultimate prop for the sophisticatedly self-involved. See below.

Side note: there's a cutesy mass-market label waiting to be coined but I can't pin it down. "Hipster" is limited to one subset (Joke - Q: How many hipsters does it take the change a lightbulb? A: You mean you don't know...?!), "Bobo" includes "bourgeois..." which isn't exactly right either, as it now carries lots of connotations that don't really apply to 20/30something urban types.

I've been toying with "Urbo" for "urban bohemian" but that suggests that the bohemianism is achieved and not just longed-for. "Wobbo" is close ("would-be bohemian") but leaves out the "urban" aspect, plus the crippling self-awareness that would ban applying the word "Bohemian" to oneself.

And "Wsbawbhwbahrpweptmsbnewtbtam," or "Urban Would-Be Artist/Would-Be Hip-Without-Being-a-Hipster/Reluctant Professional With Enough Perspective To Mock Self But Not Enough Willpower To Break The Acronymic Mold" just doesn't have the right ring to it.

Let's go with Wobbo for now. The iPod is the ultimate wobbo accessory, because we are used to seeing ourselves as the protaganist in the Movie of our Lives. We're also used to providing ourselves a soundtrack for the movie - but now, thanks to our little white symbiotes, we can actually be SURPRISED by the soundtrack to our lives! Just like watching a real movie, where we can be all "Boy, that Zach Braff chose just the right song for this scene!" except it's just US, WALKING DOWN THE STREET. And we're pretty much guaranteed to like the song, because it's our music! Everyone a winner!

2nd greatest wobbo accessory? The blog. You knows it.

Oh My My, Oh Hell Yes

My iPod mini arrived today. And I have to say: I'm still worried that an imminent upgrade will render it immediately obsolete; I'm still outraged that it holds 80% less music for only a 17% smaller price (wow, just writing that honks me off afresh); and I'm still hesitant to believe that, in 2005, it's a good idea to have spent that much money on a gadget that only has one function.

BUT.

Oh my good golly this is one sleek, sexy little gadget.

A big, big part of gadgetlust is sheer pride of ownership - holding something in your hand and thinking "heh heh... I own this..." On that count the iPod mini is a total champ. Solid, heavy, sleek, with great tactile response from the textured aluminum shell. I don't even have any music on it yet and it makes me grin a bit just looking at it as it sits there charging.

The iPod Craze Ends NOW

I've finally figured out a way to stop the iPod pandemic, which is growing white cords out of the ears of LITERALLY EVERY PERSON ON THE NEW YORK SUBWAY SYSTEM:

I bought one.

Some unexpected money fell into my lap (I think it's the first time that has happened in about, oh, ever) which, after I had finished doing dutiful and responsible things with much of it, left enough for an impulse iPod purchase. In a nifty twist of tortured justification, we decided it would officially be my birthday present (several months early) from my currently income-less wife.

Despite my deep misgivings (i.e. "what do you MEAN for $50 more I can get FIVE TIMES the capacity?!") I went with the mini - I figure, keeping 75-100 albums in my pocket at a time will be JUST FINE. Plus, part of the ineffable appeal of shiny shiny gadgets is their teenyness. The full-on iPod just ain't teeny enough anymore.

After placing my order, I decided to belatedly check Think Secret to see what scoops they might have about upcoming new iPod versions. BIG MISTAKE. Turns out the going rumor is that the next generation mini will come out WITHIN A MONTH, featuring 5GB (up from 4GB) and possibly new colors, which would be nice, as the current offerings are all pretty wussy. Except, of course, Amazon had already made quick-like-bunny with my order and it was too late for my cold feet.

Anyway, now that I've jumped on the bandwagon, I predict that a) Apple will release a version with more memory, better games, and cooler colors, which also gives backrubs and blowjobs; and b) the iPod will finally, finally become mortifyingly passe right about the moment I step onto the F train rockin' the white earbuds.

Curse You, Apple, CURSE YOU!!!

As I mentioned in a comment on a recent post, I have so far avoided iPod mania, which seems to be reaching pandemic levels among my friends. Mostly, I have done this through the time honored method of being a cheap bastard. To wit: "$300 for a walkman? No way."

Yes, yes, I know it's the world's coolest walkman. Still. If I'm going to drop three hunnies on something it better do at LEAST three different things. So I've waited for the inevitable day when one hand-held gadget will be a cell phone, an mp3 player, a photo/video viewer, and a decent digital camera. That day is coming - oh yes, it is coming.

But cursed Apple has found a new way to spread their infection: the iPod Shuffle:

It's got no screen, so you can't see the name of the track you're playing. The only controls are volume up/down and track forward/back. It's ugly as sin (Gizmodo, hilariously, calls it the "iPod Pregnancy Test"). It's tiny and weighs next to nothing, which means it lacks that nice, solid gadgety heft that lets you know you've really bought something. It holds only a couple more albums than a CD-R full of mp3s.

But damn them, damn them, it costs $99.

In the mad land of gadget lust, there's a strange equation: psychologically, if the gadget is cool enough, a price of under $100 equals FREE.

Of course, I'd never actually buy the 512MB model when for $50 more you can get the 1GB model. Which means, were I to actually buy one, I'd be spending $149. 'Cause I'm a sucka. But that's all part of the madness - the base price of the gadget is what sticks in your brain no matter how many googaws you add on. So I would talk myself into buying this iPod Shuffle, which after all is so cheap it might as well be FREE, and I would then be startled when my bank account was down a buck fitty and I couldn't cover my bills.

Anyway, I'm not going to buy one. And why? Some deep reserve of self-control? An admirably grown-up resolve not to spend frivolously when I have a family to support?

No, no, nothing like that. It's just that, after Xmas, I broke down entirely and bought the home theatre system I'd spent a full month compulsively researching (Denon AVR-1905 7.1 receiver, Klipsch SB1 bookshelf speakers, JBL SCS160SI surrounds/center/sub, for those keeping score at home, and I truly hope you are because otherwise why the HELL do I need this much home theatre?!).

And now I'm flat broke, yo.

Thank god.

The Weekly WANT IT - History

The Procrastimom (see book links on the right) added a comment on Volume I of the Weekly WANT IT, weighing in against succumbing to these purchasing obsessions, and making reference to the infamous Droid Factory Incident. I realized it was worth addressing these charges in detail.

It's true. I've had these WANT ITs my whole life. The notorious Droid Factory incident to which Procrastimom refers took place when I was about 6. I saw tv commercials for the Star Wars Droid Factory, which showed a moody iron-walled work floor where motorized machinery assembled droids of all shapes and sizes in showers of sparks and welding.

I wanted it. I wanted it real bad. I wanted to build my own droids.

So Mom took me to the store and we looked at it. It was a little under $10, if I recall correctly, like $9.79 or something. Now, this being 1978 or so, ten bucks was a fair amount of money for a family trying to live on theatre wages. So my mother said "I'm sorry, it's too expensive," and home we went.

Well, that just wouldn't do. I was in full WANT IT mode. I was sick to my stomach every time I thought about it. I had to have that droid factory, and I told my mother so on a regular basis.

Eventually, my mother decided to teach me a lesson about our commercial society. She offered me a term loan, secured by my allowance, for the price of the Droid Factory.

Now understand, when the Procrastimom decides to teach a lesson, she goes to no half-measures. She made up a payment book, which listed each $0.10 weekly payment that I would make out of my $0.25 allowance. I think I made a downpayment of $2.00 or something, so I owed a bit more than $7.50 - which, for those of you keeping score at home, meant I'd be paying for about the next year and a half.

I don't *think* she charged me interest.

Yes, yes, I said, this is all fine. We closed on the loan and headed to the store to get me my cherished Droid Factory.

I got the Droid Factory home. I got it out of the box.

Here's what the Star Wars Droid Factory really was: a floor and three walls in stamped poop-brown platic; a rail where the roof would be across which a boom arm slid back and forth; a pile of white plastic "droid parts"; and a big pile of little white rubber bungs which you used to stick the droid parts together.

Some details: the "boom", which in the commercials was shown whipping back and forth, hoisting droid bits into place to be welded, did NOT have a real pulley. It did not have a rope, chain, or even a string that the hook hung from. The hook didn't hang at all - it was stamped onto the underside of the platic boom arm. So "hoisting" the droid bits into place meant... um... picking them up and moving them around. And maybe adding a hopeful little whirring sound.

About the droids themselves: at least it would be fun to build different droids, right?

Well, maybe. If the finished droids had stood higher than two inches. Or they had consisted of more than two piece, maybe three, each. Here's the fun to be had with the droids: take a white plastic leg section, stick a white rubber bung in the hole on top, and stick a torso and head on it. No arms. The arms were stamped on the torso. "Pssht!" I'd go, welding away. "Vrrrrm," I'd go, sliding to white chunk of plastic back and forth, desperately wishing it would was capable of doing... well, anything, really.

Needless to say, my "enjoyment" of this toy lasted MAYBE a half hour. Maybe. And that's only because I took fifteen minutes breaking the "droid pieces" off of the plastic frame. And then I never, ever, EVER played with it again. I don't think I could even bear to look at it.

But I paid for it. Oh, boy, did I pay for it. With growing remorse, which she only shared with me later in life, my mother gave me my weekly allowance minus the $0.10 payment, dutifully tore a chit out of my payment book. After all, what good would it do to teach me a lesson in commercial credit if she let me off the hook. MBNA didn't let me off the hook twenty years later when I started to be late on payments on my first credit card, after all.

So yeah. I know in the rational bit of my mind that these WANT ITs are irrational and would not even be as satisfying as they seem like they should be were I actually to acquire the object in question.

Luckily, the rational bit of my mind has very little to say in the matter.

When I want it, I WANT IT.

UPDATE: I checked on eBay, and of course there are easily a dozen Droid Factories being offered for purchase. I'm pleased to note that many of them cost not much more than they did in 1979 (their actual year of issue, which means I was 7).

Click below to see pictures of the actual thing (turns out my memory was not very accurate).

So here's the factory itself. Turns out I remembered wrong: no walls, just a floor and a ramp. The boom doesn't slide back and forth on a rail, it's a crane-type operation with a pillar and big boom arm, with a stiff hook.

My gripe is still valid, however, as none of the pieces in the kit could actually HANG on the hook, so you still had to hold them up against it as you moved them around.

This picture shows the nefarious little rubber bungs:

Apparently, still having the rubber bungs makes these droid factories, now 25 years old, more valuable than those where they have been lost. I would be surprised at the number of kits for sale that still have them, except of course that none of these were ever played with because they were NO FUN AT ALL.

Here's the order form for replacement pieces:

As you can see, purchasers were promised by Kenner, Inc. that "WE REALLY DO CARE." Maybe they did. About something. Like cashing in on the merchandising campaign that invented merchandising campaigns and against which all later ones would be judged. But certainly not about making a toy that was actually any fun. At all.

Now, a MOPED, on the other hand...

The Weekly WANT IT - Volume I

This week's obsession: scooters/mopeds/vintage motorcycles.

I've always wanted a motorscooter. Preferably a black one with flames painted down the sides, though my enthusiasm for this was somewhat dented when I saw someone driving one just like that through Park Slope. Curse you, whoever you are.

In New York State, engines 50cc and under don't require a motorcylce license. In my head, this was translated into "these vehicles are safe, unlike a motorcycle."

Unfortunately, good scooters are extremely pricey ($2k and up for the better brands/models). Poking around on eBay and CraigsList, I started to uncover other possibilities. Like mopeds.

While mopeds are famously uncool, I predict that will soon change. They're way cheaper than scooters, and the scooter trend has to be cresting soon. I predict lots of suitably ironic vintage mopeds nipping around Williamsburg within a year or two.

My pick: the Tomos Revival.

(Another picture here)

Tomos in general seems to be making a big push in the Moped Renaissance. Their website shows their new, sharp looking model line - none of them over $1700.

CONTINUED (click below)

One problem with mopeds: they have 2-stroke engines, which are simpler but create a truly remarkable amount of pollution. Per mile, a moped puts out something like 10 times the particulate pollution of a car. Lame.

Bigger scooters have 4-stroke engines, but are more expensive. My pick of the litter? The Bajaj Chetak:

It even has a manual transmission so that you can feel superior to all the twist-n-go riders out there (once you've learned to drive it without stalling instantly). But the Chetak goes for $2700. Sigh.

There's another style that used to be sold here but has disappeared: the step-thru, which is a combination of moped and scooter like the old Honda Passport:

The only one currently being sold in the U.S. is called the "Bahama" and seems to be imported with questionable legality from China and sold on eBay. Bajaj makes one in India, but Bajaj USA says they have no current demand and therefor no plan to import them.

What about used/vintage, you ask? Scooters, unfortunately, hold their value really really well, which means they're expensive used, too.

Then I took that one step too many towards the slippery slope. "If I would be comfortable riding a scooter, because it feels like it should be safer than a motorcycle," I thought, "what about just a VERY, VERY SMALL motorcycle?"

Here's where Craigslist got me in trouble.

See, now THAT is what I'm talking about. 175cc (okay, so yeah you'd have to take the State motorcycle course and get a new license), 4-stroke engine, and vintage cred for miles. Just check out this swank ad from the late 60s.

I mean hey, I KNOW motorcycles are dangerous. But there are scooters as powerful as this bike, which is really small by motorcycle terms, and we've already established that scooters are safe, right? Plus, doesn't HOW FRIGGIN COOL it is make it way safer? I know the rubber pads on the sides of the gas tank alone make me feel at least 70% safer.

Not to mention that beautiful $500 price tag - remember, price-to-perceived-value ratio is key to a good WANT IT, and $500 seems pretty damn reasonable for a vintage '68 Honda bike.

Of course, it's not per se running. And there's that little issue of my wife not per se being okay with me riding any motorcycle of any kind. Scooters included. In fact, her last statement on the matter was "not even if someone GAVE you one."

But a guy can dream.

The Weekly WANT IT - Introduction

One of my long-standing online obsessions which has not been discussed yet on Procrastinet: object lust.

At any given point in my life there are several items that I either don't need, can't afford, or both, which I'm totally and utterly consumed with hopeless longing for anyway. I usually find these things online, research them compulsively, and then bore Lisa for weeks at a time with my findings. As a boon to our marriage, I've decided to bore P'net readers with them instead.

My current obsession (and the focus of The Weekly WANT IT - Volume I) is with 50cc motor scooters/mopeds. In New York, you don't need a motorcycle license for an engine that small, which somehow in my mind I translated into "not as dangerous as a motorcycle."

Previous obsessions include:

Boats (including a once stunning but now rundown 30' 1973 Chris Craft on eBay which sold for a measly $7k);

A 1987 Porsche 944 ($2500 but sadly an automatic);

Guitars (this is a recurring one, undimmed by my steadfast refusal to actually learn to play);

Assorted Electronic Gadgetry (currently a rotating cycle of an Apple Powerbook, a Canon D10 digital SLR, and that refurbished Onkyo home theatre system at J&R).

There are a couple of key factors that go into the WANT IT:

a) the object in question has to have a disproportionately high cost-to-perceived-value ratio; for example, the Porsche above (only $2500? For a PORSCHE?)

b) the object can be something that I've always wanted but never thought we could afford, which now I've found an affordable example of;

c) the object should be WICKED COOL;

d) bonus points if the object is WICKED COOL in a slightly offbeat manner which makes me feel like I'm the only one who properly appreciates its full wicked coolness.

Past WANT ITs that led to actual purchases include: various Handspring pda's (Edge, Treo 270, Treo 90); a 1984 Subaru wagon ($500 on Loot - she's still going strong, now owned by a friend); a 1998 Saturn wagon ($2500 on eBay, a reminder never to buy a used GM car); our current 2001 Passat wagon (detecting a wagon trend?); a blue bass guitar, amp and effects pedals which I played religiously for at least 5 days; our digital camera; our camcorder; a portable DVD player; a Xootr kick scooter; two couches (eBay); and last but not least, our apartment (God bless you, Corcoran).

Seriously. I have a sickness. Which henceforth I will share with you.