All this post-CES talk about the modern-day throwback that is the Klipsch Console has put me in a nostalgic frame of mind. I know, what's new? But more specifically, an early 1970s kind of nostalgia. Which was waaaaay forever ago. I mean, I think about the good ol' days when my boy was still crawling, but that was 2005. TWO THOUSAND AND FIVE. Which was pretty much yesterday.
I was quite small in the early 70s, but I do remember some things. Like our swivel-based floor TV with no remote. I'm convinced my father's decision to have kids was largely based on a need for channel-changing minions. Our TV had a huge dial that made a satisfying "cha-CHUNK" sound when we flipped stations. We had four channels that went off the air at midnight, which I know only because I was allowed to stay up on Friday nights to catch the Fright Night Fright feature. Indy locals, won't you reminisce about Sammy Terry with me for just a moment? And remember when sporting events only flashed the score every so often? You had to actually pay attention!
Video games were non-existent in my world until I was about 6 years old. Then it was hand held football with tiny red dashes as players and a soundtrack consisting of a nerve-racking "tick...tick...tick" noise, followed by a shrill "BLEEEP BLEEEEEP" when you were "tackled." Oh, the thrill! Thank you, Mattel.
I also remember my dad's stereo console. Not the specific brand or make, or anything else that doesn't remotely matter to a toddler, but I do remember a large, black, wooden cabinet with heavy decorative doors and huge nose-ring looking things for knobs. It would blare such gems as Runaround Sue and Rockin' Robin while my brother and I danced. I remember laying on the shag carpet listening to the first album mom ordered off the TV for me (you know... send a check or money order for $9.99 + shipping and handling to a random PO Box!) - Shirley Temple's Greatest Hits. Don't judge, I was 5. And Disney albums with dialogue snippets and music from my favorite animated classics... which I still have, incidentally. No clue if they still play, however.
I wish I knew what happened to dad's console.
Now I find myself stuck here watching classic commercials like this, this, this, and this (oh how I could go on) and daydreaming about the old days. Of course, I'm watching them on YouTube from my iPad.
It's official. The Big Game has come to town. Indianapolis is a buzz. We're no strangers to large sporting events, but nothing has rivaled this. While I'm not going to the actual game (who has $2500 laying around?), I am contemplating hauling my freezing fanny out to the pre-festivities... or at least to take a gander at the huge Roman numerals that have graced the Circle Monument. I'll snap a photo if I go, promise! After all, like some sort of comet, this likely won't happen again in my lifetime. Scary thought.
In the meantime, if you are an Indianapolisian (yeah, I just made that up), or even a temporary one this month, be on the lookout for the Klipsch bus. If you see it, snap it, and post on our Facebook page. You could win one of 17 Gallery G-17 Air wireless speakers we are giving away. Plus it's just a heck of a lot of fun.
And go, Eli!
I'm sure most offices around the world are like ours ... no one really takes ownership of tidying up the break room. People here eventually do it as it gets on their nerves. Like the Mensa scholar behind this dishwasher soap debacle. Bless his heart for it being in the right place.
Not mentioning any names. Trey. But at least the floor is nice and clean.