Month: March 2013

Like exercise, regular writing can shape your (literary) thighs

Bike typewriter copy Last week, in my continued saga at Gliterary Girl on the hazards rewards advantages realities of being a writer, we spoke about some of the tools you need to develop your writing “Voice.” This week, we’re going to talk about making regular use of those tools by establishing a writing “Routine.”

In a way, establishing this routine is a lot like going to the gym. Except that you don’t get sweaty, never leave a seated position and, unless you write romance or erotica, you probably won’t increase your heart rate much.

But aside from that, it’s just like going to the gym.

When I first started writing in an actual newsroom, my routine consisted of sitting at my desk, staring blankly at the screen and banging on my keys as quickly as possible until it was time to go home, where I would do my actual writing.

Why did I do this? Continue reading Like exercise, regular writing can shape your (literary) thighs

Insuring your buttocks could require a big premium

Buttocks appraisor Being that Jennifer Lopez was reportedly able to insure her buttocks for a million dollars, and British food critic Egon Ronay had his taste buds insured for $400,000, I couldn’t help but wonder how much I could get for my legs.

After filling out the necessary paperwork and submitting a photo, it turns out my legs have a combined net worth of just over $68.50.

That’s according to Lloyd’s of London, which assured me its appraisal was pretty much the going rate for hairy-legged,40-something, non-celebrities. As you can imagine, I was absolutely shocked by the insurance company’s appraisal of my legs’ value, and immediately responded by firing back a letter telling them — in no uncertain terms — to sign me up before they changed their mind.

That’s right. For just $100 a month, I have the security of knowing that in the event of an accident, my legs — just like our vehicles and home — will be assessed by an experienced claims adjustor and immediately declared a total loss.

No matter how minimal the damage. Continue reading Insuring your buttocks could require a big premium

It’s Sunday, and I’m thinking about having flashbacks

We all have skeletons, right? Here's a promotional ad from The Post in Centre, Ala., in 2003.
We all have skeletons, right? Here’s a promotional ad from The Post in Centre, Ala., in 2003.
OK, so I’ve found myself in the office on a Sunday. For a priest, that’s pretty normal; for me, it’s a sign of the apocolypse. However, with my family away until late tonight, I figured it would be a good opportunity to work ahead and emerge into Monday morning knowing I — ha-HA! — have the upper hand.

And after talking with a good blogger friend at Polysyllabic Profundities, I came to my senses and realized:

Hey! It’s SUNDAY!

Good intentions should be good enough.

Not to say I don’t plan on getting anything accomplished. For example, I’ve made a pot of coffee.

I also came up with an idea I’d like to run by the rest of you. I’m calling it “Sunday Flashbacks,” and it would essentially be a regular Sunday posting of some of my earliest columns and blog entries, back when the only “likes” I had came from other people with the last name Hickson. Continue reading It’s Sunday, and I’m thinking about having flashbacks

Your phone bill goes down easier with mustard

Telephone with mustardWith energy costs on the rise, around the Hickson household, we’ve been scrutinizing our monthly bills a bit more carefully. Among them, our landline telephone bill.

Now, in the past, we’d considered ourselves savvy consumers because we took the time to look for things like calls to Kohldazhell, Poland, and any connections lasting for more than 24 hours. In addition, any 1-900 calls were categorically disputed. After which I would call the phone company and do the same.

However, all those itemized surcharges in small print at the bottom of the bill were sort of like the little tag you get inside of your new clothes that says “inspected by No. 10.”

I’m not sure who he or she is, or what that inspection process entails.

I just assume it’s important enough to include in my pants. Continue reading Your phone bill goes down easier with mustard

Finding your writing ‘voice’ (Unless you’re William Hung)

Typewriter at mic (Note: This is part of a weekly series from the website Gliterary Girl, where I’m a regular contributor on the subject of writing. And highly suggestive quilting patterns. But mostly writing.)

There are nearly 8 billion people inhabiting the earth. Most are capable of stringing together a sequence of words in order to communicate an idea or feeling.

Occasionally, this even includes lawyers.

At this very moment, if you were to log on to any social network, you’d find thousands of people writing about any number of topics, including vacations, sex, parenting, mental illness…

Hmmm. Looking back over that last sequence, I see a definite pattern.

Anyway, with all of these people writing, what determines the difference between someone who writes and a writer?

There really is a difference and, as with any art form, deciding between “good” and “poor” writing comes down to personal taste and interpretation. Or possibly an interpreter if you’re reading Ozzy Osbourne’s biography.  Continue reading Finding your writing ‘voice’ (Unless you’re William Hung)

Coordination is the key when batting with a cucumber

Ned Hickson photo/Siuslaw News
Ned Hickson photo/Siuslaw News
Walking through my town’s small baseball park the other morning, I was struck by a bit of nostalgia. This was unexpected, considering what I’m usually struck by when the Cedar Company bird squadron begins its morning maneuvers. With spring approaching, first-year tee-ballers were scattered around the field with their fathers, who were imparting basic hitting and fielding fundamentals, baserunning technique, and clarifying that running home didn’t mean crossing the highway alone.

Watching this, I was reminded of working with my oldest daughter in preparation for her first season of tee-ball five eight ten not long ago. As you’d expect, we bought a mitt, ball, practice tee and all the equipment necessary to get started on the basics. For obvious reasons, I saw no need to purchase an athletic cup — until I decided to advise her about batting stance, at which point it became obvious that I should have.

At least for myself. Continue reading Coordination is the key when batting with a cucumber

Mineral water could make CSI: Ashland hard to swallow

Crime_Scene_2011a copy As you might’ve noticed, police dramas involving any type of forensic investigation are extremely popular. For those of you who aren’t familiar with this type of crime show because you’re serving time in a Turkish prison, it’s when old-fashioned detective work—in combination with high-tech science—is conducted by really attractive people who would otherwise be getting into water balloon fights at the Playboy Mansion.

This formula has proven so popular that every major network now carries at least one of these shows (Not counting the WB, which cancelled its plans for CSI: Pennsylvania after test audiences complained that watching Quaker detectives chase villains in pony carts was “really boring.”) Continue reading Mineral water could make CSI: Ashland hard to swallow

Monday should always start with a comatose computer

Frustrated_man_at_a_desk_(cropped) Sometime between Sunday afternoon and Monday morning, my computer slipped from its normal “sleep mode” and into a deep coma. This became apparent after hitting the space bar and getting no reaction whatsoever, not counting a low-pitched whirring sound that — if I didn’t know better — I could swear was snoring.

Realizing there might be a serious problem, I gathered all of my computer troubleshooting experience and, over the course of the next 10 minutes, applied that experience by hitting the space bar no less than 400 times. When that didn’t work, I unplugged the computer and plugged it back in. Tried a different outlet. Switched keyboards. Wiggled my mouse. Considered finding a different occupation, preferably one involving explosives. I eventually realized the only thing left to do was call the Help Line listed in the service manual and hope someone there could either (a) talk me through this or (b) talk me down should our conversation move to the rooftop. Continue reading Monday should always start with a comatose computer

Called for jury duty? Don’t forget your tinfoil hat

ap_amish_beard_cutting_trial_nt_120827_wmain There comes a time when we, as U.S. citizens, are called to step forward and — just as Americans have been doing for more than 200 years — devise a lame excuse to get out of jury duty. This time-honored tradition dates back to the very first jury pool, which John Handcock was excused from from jury duty after complaining of “hand cramps of the severest nature.”

As it stands, I’ve been excused from jury duty twice, despite expressing my willingness to serve. For as long as it took. Even if it meant contacting the Mother Ship to ask for more time.

So when my latest summons came in the mail, my first instinct was to make a tinfoil hat with the words, Hello: My Name Is Quandar written across the front which, along with my silver jump suit, can usually get me dismissed in less than 30 minutes (depending on how quickly my tinfoil hat clears security). Continue reading Called for jury duty? Don’t forget your tinfoil hat

A city where I could make a difference…

City sewersThere aren’t many jobs where you are virtually assured of a rapid promotional pace. However, I feel fairly confident that if I were to get hired at this particular Public Works department, I could be running it in less than a week.