Metablogging
I rode westward in the car with my Dad along 1st Ave, toward Commercial Drive, fumbling with the remote control which, for some reason, I still carried. As we neared the intersection, I aimed the remote control toward the traffic light and pressed the Power button, at which point the traffic signal began cycling through the various colors, and the digital timer readout over the walk/don't-walk sign traced patterns rather than numbers.
"What's going on?" my Dad asked.
"I'm not sure," I answered, initially not wanting to let on that I may have been responsible.
At the next traffic signal, red, I tried the Play button on the remote, and the signal immediately turned green.
"Weird," I thought to myself. "That's the weirdest thing ever. Who would have thought that a DVD remote control worked on similar codes as the traffic lights? I've gotta blog about this."
Then I woke up.
But I'm writing about it anyway. It seemed like the right thing to do, since I'd sort of promised myself and all.
"What's going on?" my Dad asked.
"I'm not sure," I answered, initially not wanting to let on that I may have been responsible.
At the next traffic signal, red, I tried the Play button on the remote, and the signal immediately turned green.
"Weird," I thought to myself. "That's the weirdest thing ever. Who would have thought that a DVD remote control worked on similar codes as the traffic lights? I've gotta blog about this."
Then I woke up.
But I'm writing about it anyway. It seemed like the right thing to do, since I'd sort of promised myself and all.