Panama City Beach

What is there to say about PCB that can't be found on a clever t-shirt. "I am to drunk to be responsible for my actions." Simple, sweet, to the point. I'm here to misbehave and I don't want you to look down on me while I bong a beer off a stripper's butt crack.

Despite the frat flag waving, beer bonging, and overall chaotic state of debauchery, I found myself enjoying this new city. This was the first time I was on the gulf side of the Sunshine State. Nothing noticeably different, smaller waves, whiter sand, little cooler temperature. The one major difference however, for this toddler of traveling was the fact that I had journeyed the farthest west I had ever been. Farther than Ohio actually!

And believe it or not, my comrades and I time traveled into the world famous central standard time...during daylight savings. WHAT? I know right, I'm like a space martian!

Our poor cell phones and GPS cried out in desperation, "We're not ready for our futuristic owners!" Too bad, you have to tell us when the bikini-tug-o-war starts. You'll thank us later.

Panama City Beach, check.

Listen to a Record

I know right? I almost can't believe it myself. I have never sat down and listened to a record. You know, like old people used to do for fun. Never had a record player, never could sit down to listen to a record. The only reason I had a record to begin with was due to the fact that the coffee shop down the street had a minimum credit payment and I wanted coffee and had just eaten. Leaving me with only one other option to help me get brewed up, Simon and Garfunkel. Bookends sat in my room, unloved and unheard, until the other day when my thoughtful grandfather gave me an extra record player he had in his cellar.

Now rather than take you down a long, sappy, and gay road of how nostalgic or personal this experience was for me, how it made me feel like Garfunkel himself was strumming the guitar right in my lap, I'll get technical. Instead let's talk about how a record actually works to get those emotions dripping from your sullen eyeballs every time "America" comes on.

Ya'll have heard of sound waves. I think different pitches and shit are created by the height and width of the wave itself. These waves are somehow cut into the wax of the record creating grooves. Say it with me...G-R-O-O-V-E-S, Grooves! Depending on the frequency and amplitude the groove changes. The needle runs over the grooves creating vibrations that run into the diaphragm. Inside the diaphragm is a small door.

Behind the door is a a tub of water with a baby dolphin inside. When the vibrations run through the pool it tricks the dolphin into thinking it's sonar. Baby dolphin is very friendly and talks back. This chatter is picked up by a microphone and translated into English (or whichever language the musician wants) and it comes out the speakers. Then you hear Paul Simon's gentle vocals and Garfunkel's overhyped input to this legendary duo.

Shocked? Don't be. Dolphins are great listeners.

Listen to a Record, check.