Remaining faithful

It's like Groundhog's Day.

Every September, Apple introduces the newest iPhone along with a few other products or improvements.

Then, online and in person, the Apple faithful show up in droves a couple weeks later to snap them up so they can have bragging rights to being among the early adopters of Apple's latest.

ME: Hi, my name is Jeff and I'm an Apple loyalist. ALL: Hi Jeff.

I love the annual show. From the year's worth of rumors leading up to it, to the pre-show music (all of it available on iTunes), to Apple's vice-president of Software Engineering Craig Federighi's humor-filled and loose presentation, to the products themselves, it all works for me. And on me.

I have an ancient iPhone5 I waited two months and went to seven Apple stores to get when it first came out. For those of you keeping count, that means as of today's presentation I'm three generations behind on the iPhone. I want the new iPhone6S Plus. But I probably won't get it.

Instead, I'll wait for next year's song and dance when they introduce the iPhone7. I like buying in the non-"S" years.

Whenever the subject of iPad comes up, between my laptop and my iPhone I've never been able to find a reason to hop on the iPad bandwagon. But I did want one after today's introduction of the 12.9" iPad Pro. It has an available Smart Keyboard for $169 to make it more like a laptop, and a $100 Apple Pencil which is their way of saying stylus.

However when I use the calculator on my ole' iPhone5 and add up exactly how much all this new gear would cost me - and add in the fact I now have tuition for young Mr. Spielberg, plus the wife and daughter are waiting for their new phones - it becomes painfully clear I'm going to have to wring (or ring) a little more use out of what I have.

Hey Siri, couldn't you cut me a little slack and make it every two years?

Terms of endearment

The last time I looked, and believe me I don't look often, the iTunes Terms of Use Agreement had 38 pages. That's 38 pages that make liars out of all of us when it comes to having read it. Sure, we click the "Accept" button. We say we've read and understand it. But we've done neither.

Fortunately there are people who have way too much time on their hands that do go through them, and alert us to things we should know about.

Like the latest Facebook privacy invasion.

The disparagement clauses that don't let you post bad reviews of companies on Yelp.

How they collect and sell your information, even when they say they don't.

There's a lot of essential information in that Terms of Use Agreement. Not surprisingly, it's all skewed to protecting the site as opposed to the rights of those using it. And every site you visit, big or small has them. Except this one.

Until now.

Starting today, you're on notice that Rotation and Balance now has a short albeit strict Terms of Use policy that will have to be adhered to should you desire to continue using this site. And really, why wouldn't you?

Terms of Use Agreement for Rotation and Balance

Don't be a jackass in your comments. I'm not made of glass and I won't break if you disagree with something I've said or don't think it's funny. But try to be civil about it. Or at least be funny. I don't shy away from a good debate, but name-calling and insults don't make it one. If you do it, not only will I block your comment, I'll see to it you're put back in your cage where you can throw your feces at passersby and I don't have to watch.

Don't pretend to know me. Odd as this may sound, some strangers who leave comments assume an undeserved familiarity in their tone. This will come as a surprise, but I actually know who my friends are. I know who I know. And if I don't know you, don't pretend I do. By all means feel free to comment. Just not like you're a friend.

Tell me who you are. If you're going to take the time to comment, don't do it anonymously. Cause really - and I think you know this already - it's the coward's way to comment. If you're going to dish it out, you have to be able to take it. Anonymous comments don't count. Just look at the ones on any given Yahoo article.

Don't point out my typos. Let he who is without ever having had a typo cast the first stome (see what I did there?). It happens. I type fast - it's part of my job description. It's not like the boom mic hanging down in the middle of scene and taking you out of the movie. You'll still know what I mean. And I promise I'll eventually go back, reread and correct it. Keep in mind this isn't Miss Quigley's english class. It's a blog. You're lucky I can spell anything at all.

If you comment, check back for my reply. Don't just talk to me, walk away and never look back as if you were any one of my high school girlfriends (it's okay, I'm over it). If you're going to take the time to comment, I'll gladly take the time to reply if it calls for it. I'll probably reply even if it doesn't. What can I say, I'm a giver.

Never forget that you're appreciated. There are so many things you could be doing right now besides reading this. I never forget that, and I'm forever grateful you give these little musings any time at all. Often it probably takes longer to read them than to write them (does it show?). Anyway, nothing but gratitude.

So there it is. Not too bad, not too complicated. It's not like I'm selling music on here. I'm not even going to ask you to click on the "Accept" button.

First of all, I don't have an "Accept" button.

And second of all, if you've read this far, I already know you're pretty accepting.

Breaking Dad

This is a picture of Bryan Cranston as Walter White. It's also pretty much the same position I've been in for the last ten days, minus the stacks of cash and plastic storage containers full of 99.1% pure blue meth. For the record, I also had an open laptop in front of me.

The reason is that after several conversations with extremely insistent friends who wouldn't take no for an answer, and a Twitter feed that was on fire as the series finale approached, I finally jumped on the Breaking Bad train. And it was every bit the wild ride everyone promised it would be.

I'd heard of the show of course, but frankly - what with Homeland, Dexter, Person of Interest, Modern Family (which one of these is not like the other?) - I felt I already had enough tv show commitments.

Besides - FIRST WORLD PROBLEM ALERT! - recording everything in HD only leaves so much room on the DVR.

But once I saw the opening scene from the first episode, I was - pun intended - hooked.

Fortunately I wasn't working the last couple weeks so I had the time to devote to it. I sat in my chair, streaming seasons 1 through 5 on Netflix. Season 5 has 16 episodes, broken into two parts. Netflix has the first 8, and I had to pay to download the rest from iTunes. Money extremely well spent.

I would watch in the day, the night, late at night, middle of the night and early in the morning. My daughter said it should be called Breaking Dad because I was neglecting pretty much everything and everyone to get through this extraordinary show.

A little OCD sometimes? Perhaps. And check again to make sure that door's locked on your way out.

The beauty of it was no commercials, so instead of a full hour each episode was around 45 minutes give or take. I went through all 62 of them, many of them twice because I couldn't believe how great they were.

As far as series endings go, it was genius. Every loose end was tied up, every question answered. And it all made perfect sense and felt right. It was brilliant.

The downside is now, unsurprisingly, I'm experiencing severe withdrawal. Going through all 5 seasons in less than 10 days didn't give me nearly the fix I need. But thanks to iTunes, season 5 is on my laptop and I can revisit it whenever I want.

You should know you can't immerse yourself in the meth world for such a concentrated period of time without lingering after effects. For example, I now recognize every RV on the road as a mobile meth lab. I use the phrases "Tread lightly" "I am the danger" and "Say my name" almost daily. I'm suspicious of fried chicken restaurants.

And worst of all, I like a Badfinger song.

Breaking news: we have a break-up song winner

It wasn't easy. But then love never is.

Just to refresh your memory, last week I put up a post bringing back my breakup song contest. The first time I barely got three suggestions. This time, it was an avalanche. Apparently a lot of bad memories have come flooding back to all of you since the first effort.

And as we now know, broken hearts make for mighty good song suggestions.

For the last week the Rotation and Balance team of psychologists, relationship gurus, heartbreak counselors, romance novel authors, luv brokers and interns working for no pay have listened to all the outstanding entries and, difficult as it was, chosen a winner.

I won't keep you in suspense any longer. For the song we believe best sums up the emotional devastation left in the aftermath of a failed relationship - all to a good beat - the winner is (drumroll please) Carrie Talick.

Her winning entry? Love Stinks.

Not only does Carrie get her winning song from iTunes (right after she sends me her email), she also gets these six runner-ups. It was originally only going to be four, but the judges decided they were just too good and had to expand the prize.

Congratulations Carrie.

Presented here in no particular order:

A late break-up entry

You may remember a while back I did a post about break-up songs, and decided to turn it into a contest for the best one.

If you remember that, you're doing better than I am.

Due to the enormously underwhelming response, not only did I completely forget about it, but the grand prize of the winning song via iTunes remains unclaimed.

So here's what I'm going to do, since I'm not ready to break-up with this contest yet (I know, but I went for it anyway).

Let's give it another go. Submit your best break-up songs, and the selection committee here at Rotation and Balance will pick a winner shortly. We'll even sweeten the heartbreak pot: not only will you win your song from iTunes, you'll get the 5 runner-ups as well.

Entries from last time - Maybe You're Right, Hating You For Christmas and With Or Without You - are still in the running, so for the people who submitted them (you know who you are), no need to resubmit.

Just to get the tears rolling, I'm entering Can We Still Be Friends (don't worry, I'm not eligible to win).

What're you waiting for? Get listening. Because now, dredging up all your bitter, forgotten pain and heartache from the past could mean valuable prizes!

Goodbye Steve

Is it possible for a circuit board to have good intentions? It is if it lives in an Apple product.

Every one I own sets out to do the same thing: make my life better in some way. Unlike any other brand I own, Apple consistently makes good on the promise.

Ironically, the way I found out Steve Jobs had died today was while I was searching for information about Apple's newest release: the iPhone 4S. I went to the Apple site, and on the home page was the above image.

I know how silly it sounds, but it knocked the wind out of me. I've lost family members before. It feels the same.

It's not just the man, but the idea of the man that's so powerful. A visionary, often compared to people like Henry Ford and Ben Franklin. The kind of person that only comes along once in a lifetime. Regardless of what people who have accomplished much less with their lives and their companies will tell you, it's a valid comparison.

Tonight there'll be plenty of coverage of his passing, with smarter people than me paying tribute. I'm sure I'll be watching it all.

So, as I sit here writing this on my MacBook Pro, listening to iTunes, with my daughter watching Toy Story 3 in the other room and waiting for a call on my iPhone, I just wanted to say goodbye Steve.

Thank you for thinking different.