Author: Bob Benz

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Media Bob Techno Bob Web Bob

Discovering Internet radio …

I know I’m a bit of a late-comer here, but I’ve become addicted to Internet radio, even to the point where I paid $4.95 to try Radio Io for a month ad-free. At $50/year, it’s a lot cheaper than XM/Sirius, and it provides a pretty wide range of stations. I’m listening to a progressive rock station as I write this, and I’m also frequenting everything from radioioGrunge to radioioNewgrass to radioioJambands. It didn’t take much tinkering to repurpose an old Mac laptop to work with my stereo and wireless network for streaming purposes.

So this post on A VC caught my eye today. Apparently, CBS Radio is positioning itself to be a key player in Internet radio. Much of the focus is on TargetSpot, which apparently allows targeted ad avails to be delivered in streams.

So I started wondering. If they can rig Internet radio so that targeted, relevant ads are appearing in streams instead of the endless jewelry ads Radio Io was feeding me, would I feel compelled to spend $50 a year for ad-free streams? Probably not. And those satellites that XM and Sirius launched into orbit? How long before they’re as useless as the person who paid tons of money to put category 5 cable throughout his new house only to have wireless technology negate it a few years later?

Things are moving fast. I love it …

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Assorted Bob

Penguin vs. killer whale …

This is too cool (nod to Kayak Yak, where I found it …)

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Dog Bob Top Bob

Carousing with Gilligan

gilligan.jpgozzy.jpgIt happened again. Gilligan and Ozzy made a mad dash for freedom the other night. I was a little surprised they took off because I was throwing a big, bone-shaped floating toy into the cove for Gilligan. An engaged Gilligan is generally a good Gilligan. But he took off, clenching that goofy fuzzyellowbone and oblivious to my fading shouts. Ozzy was close at his heels, charging into a night of debauchery.

I found the toy up by the road. Gilligan and Ozzy were nowhere in sight, but dogs where barking all over in the surrounding neighborhood. A party was brewing. A full-out dog kegger.

At 11 p.m. I’d resigned myself to the fact they weren’t coming back and that they’d be spending a 20-some degree night outside. At Lara’s insistence, we cracked the garage so they could get in there if they returned.

Next morning I went straight to the garage to see if they were there. Ozzy scampered for the driveway to escape my wrath. But then I heard a noise in the back corner of the garage. I looked up just in time to see Gilligan stretching in the front seat of my Lexus convertible, which was parked with the top down. He hopped out as if he’d just driven up in it and I was the valet he was tossing the keys to.

Needless to say, that’s not the reception he received …