Bum Rap

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Throughout my adult life I’ve carried with me an air of what I thought was self-confidence… self-reliance… self-assurance…  All of which I believed to be positive and desirable qualities. I come to find out that what I thought was self-confidence, others perceived as arrogance.

Go figure.

The realization came over a dinner conversation I had with my 90 year old mother-in-law, God bless her. We were talking about how difficult it can be to trust people that you don’t really know and I made the tongue-in-cheek remark of: “Yeah, you didn’t really like me at first, did you?” And to my great surprise, she agreed.

My wife was aghast. “What do you mean, you didn’t like him?  What was wrong with him?” She deadpanned, “He was arrogant.” And then she turned to me, stone-faced. I immediately went defensive.

“I have heard that before,” I admitted, “but it isn’t true…” I’m just comfortable with who I am. I don’t find that I have to put on a polite facade when I meet people.”

“Like I said,” she quickly replied, “Arrogant.”

I had no response. And my wife was too busy laughing to come to my defense.

It’s hard to be arrogant when you are bested by a 90 year old in a battle of wits.

Michael Ondrasik and Home Video Studio specialize in the preservation of family memories through the digitalization of film, videotapes, audio recordings, photos, negatives, and slides. For more information, call 352-735-8550 or visit our website.

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New Is Not Always Better

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My wife and I like antiques and have pretty much furnished our home with them. Perhaps 80% of the furniture we use is over 50 years old if not older. One thing we quickly realized is that certain concessions have to be made when you choose to populate your living space with old things.  Like not expecting them to always work as they should.

We have a 100 year old storage cabinet with drawers that always stick… to the point where I don’t remember what we’ve stored in two of the drawers because it’s been so long since I’ve been able to open them. But the cabinet itself looks great and fits the space. And so far I haven’t missed whatever might be in those two drawers so I really don’t feel the need to replace it.

However, our dining room table which was bought from a Sears catalog in 1905 was admittedly beginning to show its age. The table itself still looked in good shape but whenever we inserted its leaves to accommodate visitors, my wife was so embarrassed by their condition she needed to use a tablecloth to cover the flaws.  (Which kind of gives me a clue as to how she’ll be dressing me in years to come.)

Anyway, we started pricing out replacement dining room sets and the costs to get something of quality were exorbitant. So we just kept the old Sears set until we could figure something out. One day, at an antique auction, I spotted an old dining room set that was being put up for sale. Nice carvings, chairs looked great. And it was a drawer-leaf table – meaning it went from a 4 top to a 8 top by pulling out its built-in leaves. And they were in great shape… original to the table which means no tablecloth would be needed.

I looked at my wife who shrugged and said, “I don’t think so.”  By this time, we’d been looking for over a year without finding even a potential candidate. I was excited by this find but my wife was not so I played it cool.  I sat down and watched the auction.

The table came up late in the sale. Still looked good to me. My wife sat stone faced. The auctioneer opened the bidding. Crickets. No one wanted it. He dropped the opening bid price. Sounds of silence from the crowd. He looked at one of his partners and said, “Looks like I’m buying this one. $100 to…”

I thrust my paddle in the air so quickly, I broke the sound barrier. Based on the expression my wife gave me, she must have heard it. But I bought the dining room set: One expandable table, six chairs, in near perfect condition, for $100.00. It now sits proudly in our home as a table no one sits at… right near the cabinet that doesn’t open and the clock that doesn’t chime.

Michael Ondrasik and Home Video Studio specialize in the preservation of family memories through the digitalization of film, videotapes, audio recordings, photos, negatives, and slides. For more information, call 352-735-8550 or visit our website.

I Am Grout

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I’d like to meet the twisted mind that invented grout… or at least the consumer application of it. It’s difficult to apply; impossible to keep clean; and a major pain to remove. Really, what’s to like?

Guess what I spent the weekend doing? Why my wife puts handyman items on my weekend todo list I will never know. After so many years of marriage, you’d think she’d pick up on the fact that, while I have many long suits, being handy is not among them.

But the state of the grout in our shower stall has been skeezing her out for a while now so as I approached my Sunday chore list I saw written (in capital letters) REGROUT THE SHOWER TILES!  First step: I immediately went to get a six pack of beer to use as a celebration once the job was done. It is important to self-motivate.

Turns out, I got lucky. It wasn’t the grout that needed replacing. The silicone sealer had become stained over time – probably because it was poorly installed the last time it was done. (Not one of my finest efforts.)

So out with the old, in with the new. To be honest, it wasn’t that tough a job… at least it wouldn’t have been for a guy under 5 feet tall. But at 6’3”, and something something years old, my body doesn’t bend and maneuver in a small square space all that well. It did get a little looser after I self-lubricated by cracking the celebration beverages a bit early.

So mission accomplished. Our stall has been re-silicone sealed. Can’t wait to see what is on the list for next Sunday.

Michael Ondrasik and Home Video Studio specialize in the preservation of family memories through the digitalization of film, videotapes, audio recordings, photos, negatives, and slides. For more information, call 352-735-8550 or visit our website.

You Got A Problem? I Got a Joke.

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One of the benefits of being a part of a franchise operation is the ability to tap into the collective knowledge of those who are providing the same services you are… even though they may be in different areas of the country.  Every so often, one of us will run into something that we haven’t seen before and it is comforting that we have the ability to learn from those who have been doing this longer and have probably run into the seemingly unsolvable problem that lies before us.

Sometimes.

Recently, one of our colleagues reached out for suggestions about a difficult file transfer he was trying to accomplish.  An android phone video file that needed to be accessed by a Mac computer. And none of the established procedures were working.  The colleague reached out to the Home Video Studio community. And the response was overwhelming.

Studio owner after studio owner offered suggestions as we have all had to deal with uncooperative devices. But all the suggestions offered had been tried to no avail. After multiple suggestions and multiple “tried that, doesn’t work” responses, there was only one recourse. I decided to chime in. After all, the studio owner seemed desperate enough to try anything.

“Take the android phone,” I advised, “Place it in a paper bag. Wave it over your head… And scream like a chicken!” When all is lost, I find it best to take comfort in the comedy stylings of Dick Van Dyke.

The good news is that the owner was able to reach a solution on his own. The difficulty was found to be linked to a faulty cable.  Personally, I prefer the scream like a chicken solution.

Here’s the link to the Dick Van Dyke episode entitled The Impractical Joke. Love me some Dick Van Dyke. He was my comedy mentor throughout high school.

Michael Ondrasik and Home Video Studio specialize in the preservation of family memories through the digitalization of film, videotapes, audio recordings, photos, negatives and slides. For more information, call 352-735-8550 or visit our website.

Time To Recharge The Old Battery

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Today was a pet peeve day. And it came as a surprise.  It was a pet peeve that I had almost forgotten about. Car troubles. I figure for the amount of money we spend on acquiring automobiles, once we acquire them, we shouldn’t have to spend another dime. They should just work… like, all the time.

This morning mine didn’t.  I love my SRX. It’s a 2012 and I haven’t had one iota of a problem with it. That’s been over 5 years and 95,000 miles. A perfect record. No complaints…. until this morning. I loaded it up; went to start it up to drive to work; and I heard a sound that I sometimes make whenever I try to get up out of the recliner after binge watching a favorite show for an episode too many.

But the sound is irrelevant. The point is, it didn’t start. No time to mess with it. I had my wife drive me to the studio and she took me home at the end of the day. Thinking that maybe my car had become something of a late sleeper, I tried it when I got home. Absolutely no sound. In my mind, I could not stop the thought… it’s dead. After all, it would not be the first car that breathed its death rattle in my presence. My beloved Jeep Cherokee comes immediately to mind… may it rest in peace. But that’s another and much longer story. Still, even with all the car experiences I’ve had, I could not help thinking… she’s gone too young.

I attached jumper cables between my car and my wife’s. (That sounded a lot easier than it was.) It took me 30 minutes in Florida heat just to find the battery on the SRX. It was hidden under a device cover I swear I saw once on Star Trek (Next Generation, not the 60s original.)

I took a beer break while I let it charge another 30 minutes before I gave it a try. I turned the key or, more accurately, pushed the button. IT LIVES! The engine started and continued to run on its own. I immediately drove it to the auto parts store for a battery diagnostic. They could find nothing wrong with it. I mean, absolutely nothing. I came to them with a perfect battery.

So suddenly… all eyes were on me. I must have done something stupid. I must have done something really lame-brained to drain a perfectly good battery. To their credit, the store employees said or did nothing to make me feel this… they didn’t have to. I’m well aware of my own inadequacies. Which is why this is a pet peeve. I hate being thrust in situations in which I am ill-equipped to succeed. My lack of knowledge of auto mechanics is rivaled only by my lack of knowledge of astrophysics. But since I am rarely called upon to solve problems dealing with quantum theories, the latter never embarrasses me. The former is a sore spot residing squarely upon my masculinity.

But the good news is that I left the auto parts store with the instruction to drive the car around for 30 minutes to recharge the battery. And other than the loss of points on my man card, there was no other out of pocket expense.

So all’s well that ends well… until we wake up tomorrow and try to start the car.

Michael Ondrasik and Home Video Studio of Mount Dora specialize in the preservation of family memories through the digitalization of films, videotapes, audio recordings, photos, negatives, and slides. For more information, call 352-735-8550 or visit our website.

Silly Is As Silly Does

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Somewhere in the adult handbook seems to be a rule that grownups aren’t supposed to be silly. Fortunately, I was never given a copy of that handbook. I considered it a compliment whenever my granddaughters would stop me in the middle of one of my antics and say, “Papa, you’re being silly.”

I was reminded of that yesterday when I was spending some time with one of my clients. This delightful couple will be celebrating their 50th anniversary soon and if my half-hour with them is any indication, theirs was a lifetime of fun, humor, and yes… silliness.

They told me of their annual  “Anything Goes” quasi-Olympics they used to hold in their neighborhood. It consisted of silly games where adults, perhaps aided by certain adult beverages, competed in teams and spent the day acting like children.  If you ask me, that sort of silly behavior should be encouraged. If you turn on the news, you can see where acting serious has gotten us. A little silly in our lives might feel good right about now.

Why not give it a try… Maybe it will catch on. After all, laughter is infectious.

Michael Ondrasik and Home Video Studio specialize in the preservation of family memories through the digitalization of film, videotapes, audio recordings, photos, negatives, and slides. For more information, call 352-735-8550 or visit our website.

 

How Hot Is It?

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We recently got back from Tucson Arizona. It was 122 degrees Fahrenheit there.

We’re back home in Florida. Temperatures are in the low to mid 90s.

Our air conditioner unit decided to call it quits in the studio. Temp inside on Saturday was a solid 89 degrees..

If you read the signs like I do, then you know that it is time for:

How Hot Is It Jokes!

Johnny Carson was the king of the set up and delivery. I watched him night after night. The jokes weren’t always funny but he was. It was a gift he had… to tell a joke that bombed and then turn it into more laughter than the joke itself was worth.

So in my best Johnny impression:  “It was so hot…”

Audience: “How hot was it?”

  1. It’s so hot I saw a funeral procession pull through a Dairy Queen.
  2. It’s so hot cows are giving evaporated milk.
  3. It’s so hot, asphalt has a liquid state.
  4. It’s so hot I saw a bird pull a worm out of the ground with an oven mitt.
  5. It’s so hot the Statue of Liberty was asked to lower her arm.
  6. It’s so hot, I saw a chicken lay an omelette. 
  7. It’s so hot they installed a fan in the debt ceiling.
  8. It’s so hot, I discovered my seat belt makes a pretty good branding iron.
  9. It’s so hot people are breaking wind just to have a little breeze.
  10. It’s so hot, I started putting ice-cubes in my waterbed.
  11. It’s so hot, Optimus Prime transformed into an air conditioner.
  12. It’s so hot Siri asked to be dipped in a glass of ice water.
  13. It’s so hot bums are holding signs that read, “Will work for shade.”
  14. It’s so hot, Jehovah’s Witnesses started telemarketing.
  15. It’s so hot, I saw a dog chase a cat – they were both walking.

Good news is that the a/c is working again so come on by the studio with some of your memories. We’ll preserve them (and you) from the heat.

Michael Ondrasik and Home Video Studio specialize in the preservation of family memories through the digitalization of film, videotapes, audio recordings, photos, negatives, and slides. For more information, call 352-735-8550 or visit our website.

Pardon My Blooper

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I consider myself an intelligent being. I can arrange my thoughts and convey them in a coherent, often poignant manner. I am able to assess a problematic situation and arrive at a workable solution. I am able to present myself to the world as a mature, compassionate, thoughtful adult… but I have a hidden secret.  I possess an immature sense of humor. I laugh at inappropriate times and events. I can’t help myself.

It all started when I bought my first comedy album. It was Kermit Schafer’s collection of radio and TV bloopers. Back when radio and TV shows were broadcast live, all the inadvertent mistakes made by the announcers and performers were broadcast right along with the rest of the show. And I found them uncontrollably hysterical.

The fact that the mistakes were made on live tv or radio and were completely unscripted and unintentional made it all the funnier.  I played that record over and over until my sides hurt so much from laughing that I had to stop.

Thinking back on the some of the malapropisms that I remember from the album, I will admit them to be certainly sophomoric and imbecilic… which I supposed only increased the humor quotient to a young boy.

I remember: The announcer who proudly intoned, “Wonder Bread… for the breast in bed!”  The excited race track announcer who excitedly informed his audience that the favorite was being pulled from the race: “This just in… Harass is not going to run… Harass is not going to run… Remember to scratch Harass.” The formal and distinguished introduction of the 31st US President: “Ladies and Gentlemen, the President of the United States… Hoobert Heever.”

It slayed me every single time. And even though I grew up, my sense of humor didn’t follow suit. Well intentioned people making mistakes that result in unexpected consequences always make me laugh despite every attempt of mine to stifle it.

I was videotaping a soccer game involving my young son’s team. Our goalie had the ball and decided to clear the zone. He booted the ball in a high arcing trajectory. And as I followed the ball with the camera, I could see it heading to one of the opponent’s mid-fielders. It was a high arcing shot so the young lad had time to plant his feet, bend his knees, and position himself precisely where he wanted to be to block the ball as it descended. Which it did, like a targeted laser, squarely between the unfortunate lad’s legs.

When watching the video footage later, you could clearly hear my chortle as the ball struck. The fact that I was standing next to the father of the poor defender was a bit awkward. What was more awkward was the fact that as I lay in bed, replaying the scene in my head, I started to silently laugh so hard that I shook my wife awake. Her immediate response… “Are you still thinking about that poor boy!?!”

I may have a problem.

Michael Ondrasik and Home Video Studio of Mount Dora specialize in the preservation of family memories through the digitalization of films, videotapes, audio recordings, photos, negatives and slides. For more information, call 352-735-8550 or visit our website.

Killing The Black Dress

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I will apologize in advance if this post comes off a bit sexist. It is certainly not my intent. But political correctness doesn’t change the fact that men do some things differently than women. Case in point: Shopping.

Men are hunters. We typically will shop only when we have to and we have to know what it is we’re after. Browsing is not allowed on a hunt. Hunting is specific, targeted, controlled. And you don’t quit until you bring home the game.

My wife will go shopping for an item, spend 5 hours in the mall, only visit three stores and come home disappointed that she didn’t find it. But she will manage to buy three other things she wasn’t looking for.

I vowed to teach her the man’s way. And I had the opportunity. We attend a formal affair once a year. I wear the same tux every year. My wife insists on wearing a new outfit. So I told her that we were going to shop for her dress together. I was going to teach her how to kill the black dress.

We went to the Millennia Mall in Orlando. Bloomingdales, Nordstroms, Ann Taylor, Black and White, Neiman Marcus, Macy’s… A target rich environment.

Before we went into the first store, I gathered the intelligence. We needed a formal gown (men, that means it has to be long). My wife gets cold easily so she wanted it to have sleeves. She doesn’t like frills and ruffles so nothing too flowery. Simple, elegant lines. 

First store, straight to the sale rack. Found three possibilities. She turned them all down. No problem… I was ready to move on. She was looking at cocktail dresses. Nipped that in the bud.

Next store, straight to the sale rack. Not much there but found one that might work. She tried it on. Nixed it. Not discouraged. We have just begun and we’re in the zone. Nice energy flow working.

Next store. Jackpot. Multiple dresses. Each one matching all her specifications. I loaded her up and sent her to the dressing room. I waited, confident that the black dress was cornered and we’d be taking it home.

Thirty minutes later she comes out wearing a dress I didn’t give her. Sleeveless, strapless, with ruffles (I later learned that it was called ruching, not ruffles.) Despite the fact that she went off the reservation with her choice, it was still a record breaking shopping expedition for her. We were making progress.

The formal event arrived. In our hotel room, she spent her requisite time getting ready, waiting until the last minute to put the dress on lest it get wrinkled. Her anguished cry alerted me that the black dress might not have been killed after all. Turns out that a sleeveless, strapless gown requires a specific kind of bra to wear underneath. One that we did not pack.

It was ten minutes until we were to walk the red carpet. Out comes the smartphone. I found a Victoria’s Secret less than a mile from the venue. I used to get embarrassed when I would find myself in certain situations.  Marriage has driven that right out of my system.  I ran the mile in my tux, burst into Victoria’s Secret sweating and panting and cried at the top of my depleted lungs, “Quick, I need a bra!” You can imagine the attention I received. But I killed the bra, delivered it to my wife, and was every bit the mighty hunter providing for his mate.

Next year, we’re shopping online.

Michael Ondrasik and Home Video Studio specialize in the preservation of family memories through the digitalization of film, videotapes, audio cassettes, photos, negatives, and slides. For more information, call 352-735-8550 or visit our website.

Here I Come, To Save The Day…

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I saw a photo yesterday. It was of a matchbook from Harlequin Dinner Theater (Rockville Md). The Harlequin was one of my families’ favorite venues for an evening’s entertainment. I found it unique in that the waiters/waitresses that took drink orders and served them at intermission were also members of the cast. They were usually from the chorus but sometimes a supporting actor or actress would serve a table or two. It was fun to see our server play a character onstage and I guess they were happy for the opportunity to make some tips.

I’ve only had two dinner theater experiences as an actor. And the only reason I had the second one was because my wife coerced me into it. The first one was an unmitigated disaster. It was just after college. I found myself stranded in Toledo Ohio due to some financial miscalculations on my part. While I waited for my coffers to be refilled, I had some spare time so I did theater at night. A couple of shows with the Toledo Repertory Theater led to a paying gig at the Commodore Perry Dinner Theater. The show was How The Other Half Loves, a British sex farce.

The production was rough. The audience was rougher. The producers, thinking a comedy would be well served if the crowd was in the proper mood to laugh, offered ridiculously low prices on their alcoholic beverages. By the time the show started, the audience was half in the bag. Instead of making them laugh, their inebriety just prompted heckling.

What may prove to be my lowest moment onstage came when I, playing a husband who is having an affair with the wife of his boss, stepped out of what was presumed to be the bathroom and appeared onstage wearing a towel as a cape, a big S on my chest sculpted with shaving cream while wearing a pair of Underoos two sizes too small – with a plastic Mighty Mouse embarrassingly glued to a location where I would have rather not had the audience’s attention drawn. It has taken me decades but I have finally blocked out of my memory the comments and catcalls that were hurled my way.

I determined that my time in Toledo would be cut short. The very minute my contract at the Commodore Perry ended, I loaded my car with the few possessions I had and hit the highway. No lie… I literally left that night after the curtain call. My embarrassment trumped my lack of funds. I figured I would drive until I was out of gas and money. And this I did… and survived to tell the tale.

Michael Ondrasik and Home Video Studio specialize in the preservation of family memories through the digitalization of film, videotapes, audio cassettes, photos and slides. For more information, call 352-735-8550 or visit our website.