Not my scene

Last Halloween my friend and bandmate Nate had a party at his vast Chinatown apartment with what seemed like several dozen very attractive and scantily clad people, and I put on my lame pirate costume and did my best not to be a wallflower.

The place itself defined the party. It's a two-story with about a dozen rooms being shared by five guys and their various female companions. There's a circle of fuzzy couches, walls lined with mirrors, a hookah on the patio, a fully stocked bar with real barstools, and (I kid you not) a stripper pole.

People who know me will attest to the fact that although I'm very outgoing most of the time, I can be very introverted when surrounded by strangers. Thus, it's hard for me to be successful in the traditional boy-meets-girl way at parties. I did meet a nice girl named Susan who I got along well with and probably should have gone after, but the whole scenario felt unnatural. I ended up going home early feeling slightly sorry for myself.

Fast forward to Easter 2007, and Nate and his flatmates have another party. This one is bunny themed. The girls are dressing up as "bunnies gone bad," and the invitees are encouraged to "multiply like rabbits." It's obviously a venue for over-affectionate couples to publicly display their over-affection.

Instead of attending the skin show, I went on a 5 mile hike through a canyon in Berkeley with Amanda, then grabbed dinner and a movie. It was a great time, without the need for cheap beer and cheap pick-up lines.

Kids these days and their webcams

I'm not a fan of reality TV of any sort, primarily because "reality" is such an inaccurate description. Sure, it's mostly unscripted, but the writers purposely pick the individuals and situations most likely to cause extreme drama and the resulting boost in ratings. Although people's reactions are authentic, the environment they're reacting to is pure fabrication. (Volumes have or should have been written about this by now.)

However, despite this I've recently become interested in a two-week old website produced by a guy in San Francisco who claims he's going to wear a webcam on his head until the day he dies. It's called Justin.tv, and it's already generating some press. Justin's eventual goal is to find a way to make a living with live web content.

It draws obvious parallels to the ill-fated JenniCam of 10 years ago, but technology has enhanced our voyeur experience since then: Now we can hear the boredom instead of only watching it. It also brings to mind The Truman Show (one of my favorites), only in this case it's voluntary (and not nearly as funny).

How long will he go before realizing this is a really bad idea? My money is on a year or so.