Apples to Apples: A Tale of Redundant Comparisons

(Every Thursday I will also be writing for an awesome new blog called Twenties Hacker. You should check it out. Mainly because I'm not in my 20s and I've hacked them into letting me post. Irony. Sweet dripping irony. Maybe? I don't understand grammar.)

Steve Jobs died yesterday. This post is not about him. This post is about my grandfather, but I thought saying that Steve Jobs line first would increase page views to my blog. I'm all about the hits (internet slang). I think Steve Jobs would be proud of me for using the Internet's propensity for making things trendy to my benefit. iHipster. My grandfather and Steve Jobs could not be more different. My grandfather hated wearing sneakers. He had no idea what a computer was or how it worked. His full name is 54 syllables longer than Steve Jobs'*. He was short. He never wore jeans. He never won any awards. Oh, I forgot one other thing. He, also, wasn't one of the founders of the most innovative technology company the world has ever seen.

THANKS GRANDPA.

*unconfirmed

I lied. Steve Jobs and my grandfather have one thing in common. Both of them died too soon. I don't know why Steve Jobs' death made me think of my grandpa, but it did. Of course, I feel awful that my grandpa didn't get to see me make it to my 18th birthday, but I feel worse because he never got any Facebook messages saying R.I.P. I feel that makes your death much more official. If you don't get an R.I.P. (insert name) in a Facebook status update, it probably didn't really happen. Look at Tupac and Elvis. Those guys never got an R.I.P. on anyone's Facebook wall and no one even believes they're dead. They're just chillin' on some private island in the Caribbean eating pizza with a fork and drinking bottomless Bartyles and James.

Look at what you've done Zuckerberg.

My grandfather was a nice guy by all accounts. By all accounts I mean my account. I wasn't really sure if he had any friends in the US of A. I asked my mom once if grandpa had any friends and she said, "Yeah he does. Grandma." I was only 10 at the time so I didn't question it, but, obviously, if she had said that to me now I would know she was lying. You can't be friends with someone you're married to. That's outlandish. Your spouse is someone you yell at because your pot roast is overcooked and/or you need a ride to the airport. There's nothing friendly about those things.

He was also one of those people that loved pen and paper. That may be more of an old person thing, but my grandpa was an excellent note taker. He took notes on everything. I'm not exactly sure what he did with those notes, but he loved himself some note. I always imagined that he would re-read his notes from the day while lying in bed and say to himself, "I totally did eat those Cheerios this morning. They were delicious! Go myself! Aw Man, stepped in dog poop at 3:30pm on my walk. Forgot about that. Let me smell my foot. No poop smell. Will wear shoes next time on walks."

No socks. No shoes. No Footlocker discount.

When he noticed my brother and I were getting serious about sports he wanted to get himself involved. Since he knew nothing about any American sports he would watch games on TV and write down everything the announcers were saying in his notepad. I didn't realize he had been doing that for 7 years until one day during a freshman year baseball game he showed up with my mom wearing the floppiest hat I had ever seen. He didn't have the greatest hearing so when my mom said "baseball game" he might have heard "Elmer Fudd's house.(see below)" After the game I walked up to them and my mom congratulated me on getting 4 hits. I didn't get any hits. My mom thought every time I hit the ball it was a hit. Being the bratty kid in high school I said, "Duh MA. I didn't get a HIT. I was out every time. UGH. Are we having pizza tonight?" At that point my grandpa chimed in with, "Why did the coach do a steal with your best player up? You’re not supposed to steal when he will probably drive him in."

WAIT. WHAT?

Pictured: Grandpa's hat. Not Grandpa's head.

That made me happy that he was paying attention and knew some strategy. I wanted to spend more time with him so we would watch games or his other favorite program, Jeopardy. One night while watching Jeopardy I asked him who he wanted to win. I was rooting for the cute blonde girl because maybe the TV was two way and she could see me from inside the box and want to have relations. Anything is possible. It was the 90s. He said he was rooting for "the blackie." Now, this wouldn't have been a problem if there was someone on the show named "Blackie." "Veronica Blackie, previously, you said, 'Who is Jumanji?' I'm sorry it is, 'WHAT is Jumanji.'" The issue was that Veronica Blackie is not a real person. The "blackie" in this case was the lone African-American male on the show. I really didn't know how to respond so I said, "Uh, grandpa, I don't think you should call him a 'blackie' it's not really nice." He said that he always said that and it shouldn't be a big deal.

Not really sure when my grandfather became Archie Bunker.

I was torn. Was my grandfather racist? I mean he was ROOTING for the guy. It's not that he hated him. Surely this meant he couldn't be racist since if he was racist he would have said that he wished that the guy would lose. The KKK wouldn't be rooting for any person of color on Press Your Luck. On the other hand what he said was offensive and even though he was old, it was no excuse. So I told him again that he shouldn't say that and he patted me on the head and said he wouldn't. I never heard him say it again so maybe my talk worked, but I don't think he was racist. Just Indian.

All of those memories came back yesterday when I saw the words R.I.P next to Steve Jobs’ name. In really doesn’t make sense since my grandfather died 13 years ago, but he would have liked some of Steve Jobs’ inventions the past decade. He would have liked it more if Steve Jobs made a phone that needed to use pen and paper and called it the iPad. I’m being told that’s taken. Ok fine then. iNotebook. That too?!?! Forget it. He would have liked it all.

They might have been friends.