All in Good Fun

Last week, in honor of guitar great Les Paul, Google transformed its logo into a plunky little guitar. As a result, NPR just reported, over 10 million worker hours were lost while people figured out how to play "Smoke on the Water" on their computers.

Ten million worker hours down the drain. Kinda makes March Madness brackets look like child's play, doesn't it?

I, for one, have never wasted a moment in my life, although I suppose there are those out there who would take issue with that claim.

Like, maybe, Morgan or Pat, my former roommates and, I'd like to believe, current friends.

Sometime during our multi-year stint on Elmwood Drive, I bought myself a nifty Casio mini keyboard. In addition to its 32 keys and 16 sound-effect buttons, this puppy also had a recording device with VOICE-ALTERING TECHNOLOGY (emphasis mine)!

And so, I went through a perhaps too-long phase in which, while alone in the house, I would record my favorite phrase ("I know what you're wearing"), transform the phrase into a bone-chilling "Nightmare on Elm(wood) Street" voice and hide behind the big chair until someone came home to our dark and soon-to-be really, really scary place.

Sometimes, I would have to wait 30 or 40 minutes tucked behind that chair just to complete my pee-your-pants prank. But it was always, like, soooooo worth it.

Just like it was worth it to go to Super Saver that one night and buy those pig's feet. Seriously, I don't think I've made a better $2.85 investment in my life, especially since the dot-com bubble burst in 2000. Do you know what joy it brought me, scratching at Morgie's cute, little sleeping face, with those things tucked into my plaid shirt?!

Damn, that was funny! And time well spent, too!

I can't tell you how many countless hours I've spent underneath someone's bed, staring up at their bed frames with that half-creepy, wispy material bulging downward, just waiting for the pleasure of reaching up and scaring the crap out of them.

Some cynics (or "adults," as they're also sometimes called) would argue that these events mark great heaps of wasted time in the human continuum.

I, though, would counter their sour comments with actual, scientific proof that shows that 15 minutes of good laughter a day does the heart as much good as 15 minutes of pavement-pounding, heel-smashing, armpit-dampening jogging, without all the fuss and muss.

Unless, of course, you happen to be the victim.