Happy Father’s day, dad!

Last night was the 100th Hacker Drinkup. We’ve been meeting almost every Wednesday in Santa Monica for the last two years. For the centennial, Chris and Pinguino decided to build a fun demo: augmented reality mustaches. We had all seen Mike Clare’s AR Cookies last week so we started by making fiducial cookies. Chris wrote a processing app that would identify the image of the marker and then place an image of a mustache over it in the live video feed. Right before you took a bite of the cookie, one of the mustaches Pinguino had drawn would appear. I’m actually holding an onigiri (rice ball) in the photo above. Pinguino carved the fiduciary marker into a piece of nori (seaweed) on its face. It was a neat toy and it captured photos in the background which you can find here.

No, it’s not a real holiday; just a fun excuse to grow a stupid mustache once a year. Here are photos of years passed:

2009

2008

2007

I, and I’m sure many people under 30, received a letter from the AARP today encouraging membership. I’ve received many of these letters telling me to “get the most out of life over 50″. The AARP is apparently so opposed to ageism that they encourage young people to join their 50+ organization. In 2007, at the age of 26, I joined.

I filled out the form with my real birthdate and sent in my dues. The letter I got in return welcomed me to their “organization of mature people”. It also stated that “When you turn 50 … you’ll be entitled to all benefits and privileges of membership.” WHAT?! I have to wait till I’m 50? I am yet another young person fallen victim to a scam perpetrated by old-people. Like Ovaltine; that shit doesn’t taste like chocolate!

All was not lost though. Headlines were reporting that Jamie Lee Curtis would appear topless on AARP magazine. Woo! Now there’s a benefit to membership!

DAMNIT! I was expecting Demi Moore on Vanity Fair sort of nudity. Nope. Just more disappointment. It turns out this is just a photochop of her in a strapless dress, and she’s not too happy about it.

For some final lols, here’s a cover I annotated back in the day.

Last night we celebrated my birthday at Hacker Drinkup. It was a massive turnout with a lot of fun surprises. I quipped on Twitter, “Things that should be denim: jeans. Things that shouldn’t: everything else. #denimbustiersrsly?!” Pictured above is the denim hat Pinguino made me in response (my mannequin is wearing it now). You may remember that this isn’t the first time a tweet has generated an unexpected gift. Erin and Pinguino decorated cupcakes with fondant so they looked like our crew (they’ve made hacker cookies before). The final treat was a pair of functional frosted laser boobs inspired by my flyer. In addition, I got a new tshirt, some ALF trading cards, and some sweet socks.

Like last year, I recorded a short podcast for my birthday. I’ve been sick lately so there’s a lot of weird breathyness from me trying not to cough.

Dear Mr. Nelson,

It is with profound regret that I inform you of your recent death. On Saturday, January 9, 2010, you passed away unexpectedly at Iredell Memorial Hospital in Statesville, North Carolina at the age of 41. You, Johnny “Chris” Nelson, were born in 1968 to your parents Elmer and Louise. Your father was in the furniture business and a member of the Baptist church. You’ve been survived by your wife Kristain and sons Joshua and Noah. You will be interred this coming Friday at the United Methodist Church in Boone.

I wish to offer you my condolences. You died, yet again, that same Saturday, January 9, 2010 at the Van Dyke Hospice in Toms River, New Jersey. You, Christopher J. Nelson were 43 at the time and are survived by your wife of 21 years Sharlene and your children Julia and Eric. Born in Elizabeth, New Jersey, you settled in Jackson Township a mere 12 years ago where you were the co-owner of Executive Relocation Services in Piscataway, New Jersey.

These recent deaths came as a shock to us for we were still reeling from your untimely demise in December. You, Christopher Alan Nelson, died December 14, 2009 at the age of 24. Born in 1985, you were employed most recently as the assistant manager of a Casey’s General Store in Byron, Michigan and lived in Mount Morris for the past 12 years. You will be mourned by your parents and your brothers James and Brandon. As instructed, we directed our donation to a favorite charity in lieu of flowers.

It is with great sadness that we learned of your previous death in Leland, IA on November 23, 2009. You, Chris A. Nelson, died in your home at the ripe old age 77. You were born June 16, 1932 on a farm near Forest City and have been a farmer all your life raising both cows and crops. You will be missed by your wife of 56 years, Donna, along with your many grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Sir, this rash of recent deaths over the last two months can only lead us to believe that you will die multiple times before your next birthday. We look forward to these events and can only assume that one day you will either be decapitated by Christopher Lambert or murdered by Jet Li to absorb your dimensional power becoming the one true Chris Nelson.

Sincerely,
Eliot Phillips, Esq.
Executor to your Estate

Gizmodo posted about The Flexy today, an eco-friendly cardboard Slinky type thing. It reminded me of something I had seen in the early 90s.

Reignhold Marxhausen was an artist who taught at Concordia University in Seward, Nebraska, where I was born. He was a very interesting character and is most well known for his sound sculptures/toys (it got him on Letterman). I saw him speak once when I was in junior high and he brought a lot of things to play with. One of them happened to be The Flurry, a cardboard Slinky type thing he invented and manufactured in the 70s. The picture above comes from one being sold on eBay which has a good description.

A current Concordia student has started a blog dedicated to Marxhausen’s work. A recent post shows some of his sculptures and The Flurry in motion (notice the two-colored one).

Two random things I remember about Marxhausen:

He had a patch of clover in a high traffic area—the driveway or the sidewalk. He noticed that it would often have not just four-leaf clovers but even more leaves than that. This lead him to believe that you could create four-leaf clovers through pressure, but as far as I know he didn’t build a contraption to test this.

The carpet in his living room was a patchwork of carpet samples that a store had thrown out.

I turned 28 today and recorded a short podcast. I thought I had been doing it every year, but apparently skipped last year.