Payscale.com just released a list of the colleges that offer the best bang for your buck. At the top of the list was a place called Harvey Mudd College.
I had never heard of Harvey Mudd College. In fact, I thought “Harvey Mudd” was the name of a con man character on “Star Trek”
But after intensive research (OK, I just Googled it), I discovered the Star Trek dude’s name was Harry Mudd… and it appears that he wore a puffy shirt long before Jerry Seinfeld.
Tech colleges dominate the overall list (apparently the real “revenge of the nerds” is that they out-earn the rest of us), but you can also filter by state, category (public or private), and major or career.
Because college isn’t all about the Benjamins. For example, teachers may not make as much cold, hard cash as engineers and data geeks, but they get fringe benefits such as:
- making a positive impact on future generations
- getting snide “must be nice to have summers off” comments at parties
- getting spitballs shot at their head when they are writing on the blackboard
And now, a musical tribute to the founder of Harvey Mudd College…
A hiker recently posted footage of a possible Bigfoot sighting in Utah:
C’mon, a couple of seconds of shaky footage is the best you can do? When everybody and their brother carries a smart phone with a high-def video camera built right in? When you can set up a GoPro on any tree limb? When you can buy a thermal imaging camera for less than 200 bucks? Sorry, but I just don’t believe that Bigfoot exists, and my proof is the lack of video proof.
The hiker who shot the footage above claims he ran because he was scared. But don’t you think he’d let the camera linger for just a couple seconds more, in hopes of getting a giant payday from capturing on film a mythical creature that no one else has photographed in the past 50 years?
Dozens of people have claimed to have seen Bigfoot/Sasquatch, but the best “evidence” we’ve seen so far is some Super8 footage from 1967:
With all the video devices at our disposal, footage of Bigfoot should be as ubiquitous on YouTube as footage of teenagers racking themselves on metal railings while attempting skateboard stunts.
Do me a favor: if you happen to see ol’ Squatchy on your next hike in the woods, let that camera roll a good long time. If he charges at you, just throw him some Jack Link’s beef jerky.
(Hat tip to Mookie for the suggestion.)
My 15-year-old son plays in a band with some buddies from grade school. Here they are covering Imagine Dragon’s “Radioactive” at a local radio station’s Christmas concert (my son is on the far left, in the Nirvana t-shirt)
The other day, my wife was driving in the car with him and our 11-year-old daughter. My wife was encouraging our son to practice more…
Wife: You should get together with Ben and jam.
11 year old daughter (said with eye-rolling incredulity): “Jam?”
Wife: Yes, “jam” – that’s what bands do. I know because I’m hip.
11 year old daughter: You’re not hip… you’re old enough to have a metal hip!
I’d love to laugh a bit harder at this exchange, but I’m 7 years older than my wife, and I’m afraid laughing too hard will throw my back out.
I just finished reading Chris Stein/Negative – Me, Blondie, and the Advent of Punk by Chris Stein, the co-founder of Blondie and writer of hits like “Heart of Glass” and “Rapture.”
It’s a great coffee table photo book featuring photos that Chris shot during the early days of Blondie and the New York scene in the late 70s and early 80s, along with Chris’ narrative. He attended the New York School of Visual Arts so he knows his way around a camera. And the folks he was hanging out with back then are a veritable Who’s Who of that era: The Ramones, Jean-Michel Basquiat, Andy Warhol, William Burroughs, Johnny Thunders, Joan Jett…
(The polka dots on this dress were originally all white – they used a magic marker to make some of them red)
Some photos also capture a much grittier NYC than exists today
If you’re a fan of the music and artists of that era, you’ll love the behind the scenes look. Even if you’re not a fan, you’ll still appreciate the artistry.
Harris Wittels was a funny guy. Stand-up comic. Writer for “The Sarah Silverman Program” then “Eastbound and Down” and most recently a writer, actor and eventually executive story editor and co-executive producer for “Parks and Recreation.” Coiner of the term “humblebrag,” which he eventually turned into a book. Frequent guest on podcasts like “Comedy Bang Bang,” and host of the “Analyze Phish” podcast.
It’s a shame we have to use the verb “was” – Harris died a week and a half ago, from a suspected drug overdose, at the age of 30.
The scourge of heroin continues to claim lives, including a staggering proportion of America’s youth. Deaths from heroin overdose doubled in just two years in much of the United States, according to a recent government study. More funding for treatment and equipping all EMTs with naloxone overdose kits won’t bring back Harris, but they may save the next bright young star.
You can read more about Harris here, here and on Aziz Ansari’s Tumblr.
I’m an old man and not wise to the ways of the Interwebs.
But I’m trying to learn. This year, my blog is my pet ‘net project. Last year, it was Twitter, and my goal was to average a tweet a day. I still tweet 2-3 times a week with the handle of @MCScrewy. If this blog doesn’t put you to sleep, head over to the Twitter machine and check it out. Here’s a small sampling of the amazingly witty, pithy, highbrow bon mots you’ll find there:
Steve Martin, eat your heart out.
But if you really want to get a chuckle from Twitter, I highly recommend that you check out and follow Tim Siedell, aka @badbanana. He tweets prolifically, and every one is hilarious. Like this one:
Tim’s website is here. He is now writing for “The Nightly Show” on Comedy Central, which means more of the world will get to enjoy his comedic genius.
Just read that Leonard “Spock” Nimoy passed away.
I know how you feel, Kirk. I’ll miss that old Vulcan too… I grew up pretending a portable cassette player/recorder was a tricorder.
Live long and prosper, friend.
I’m so far behind the times that I keep expecting the milkman leave a quart of milk in a glass bottle on my porch each morning. And I keep my 8-tracks in a climate-controlled storage locker just in case they make a comeback. So it’s only fitting that I just started watching the inaugural season of “Parks and Recreation” right as it was wrapping up its seven-season run.
Thanks the the magic of Netflix, I can binge-watch and get caught up quickly. But thanks to the magic of the interweb, I can save even more time and discover everything I need to know about the series in half a minute:
“Parks and Recreation” is very funny, another in a long line of off-kilter, quirky comedies that are adored by a small but loyal audience and ignored by the mainstream (see also “Arrested Development”, “Get A Life”, “Fernwood 2 Night”, et al). I just wish I could get the entire series on LaserDisc.
This has to be the best headline of the week:
Great photo too – the two gentlemen appear to be very excited about the meat in their hands. Er, the package… Nevermind! What is that anyway, a pancreas?
When someone says “No offense, but….” you can be pretty sure that whatever comes next will be offensive. And saying “no offense” first doesn’t make it any less so. In the sports section of my local newspaper yesterday, I read two quotes that seemed eerily similar in how the speakers complained about fans while trying to make it seem like they weren’t trying to rip fans.
Leading off is Cincinnati Reds first baseman Joey Votto, who draws criticism for being perfectly content to walk every time he comes to the plate, when he’s one of the few players in the Reds lineup who can actually drive in runs if he swings the bat.
Thanks a bunch, Joey, for clarifying that you’re not going to use the word “ignorant” then using it a second later.
Next let’s check in with North Carolina basketball coach Roy Williams:
At least Roy admits that he’s criticizing. And he used the word “daggum” in a sentence too, so we have to give him some style points.
No offense, but Joey Votto and Roy Williams were pretty mean to the fans who help pay their big fat contracts. I don’t want to use the term ‘ingrates’ but they seem like ingrates.