Category: Recently probed (and potentially sore) subjects

Ned’s most recent columns… Yep, that about sums it up.

Today’s my day to #BeReal

imageAs I mentioned last week, I have the privilege of being today’s guest at Hasty Dawn’s amazing blog #BeReal, which is all about sharing a part of yourself honestly.

Some posts are so true that they’re hard to read.

Others help you realize you’re not alone.

But all of them offer a perspective and insight into the author that, many times, offers a new perspective into ourselves. A lot of you may be surprised to know there was a period in my life where my humor was, more than anything, a reflection of my unhappiness. It had become my coping mechanism. And I needed to find a way to embrace it as part of my identitiy in a way that was healthy and real, or risk losing myself to it.

Fortuately, I was blessed with someone who helped me find the way.

Click on the hot link (now I want sausage) and join me over at Hasty’s for my chance to #BeReal …

Monday, Hasty Dawn is giving me the chance to #BeReal

imageI’ve been a fan and follower of Hasty Dawn’s terrific #BeReal blog series for quite a while, marveling at the honesty and insight shared by folks revealing their truths in the hopes of helping others — either through offering perspective or inspiration. Sometimes, it’s just good to know you aren’t the first or last person to tread a particular piece of painful territory. Monday, I have the privilege of being a guest at #BeReal with my own moment of truth — and the difference between embracing humor as a part of my identity or slowly being smothered by it.

Here’s a short preview…

As a humor columnist, I get paid to be a truth-stretcher. An embellisher. A chronicler of life blown out of proportion. And I get to do it without living in Washington D.C. It’s a skill my mother will tell you I began honing at a young age — usually as a way of getting out of trouble. Again, it’s a wonder I didn’t go into politics.

However, I decided to use my skills for the greater good by becoming a writer instead.

Early in my career, I was in a very unhappy marriage. It lasted 15 years because I got good at not being real. Often, I wrote about my married life in a humorous way by portraying myself as the bungling husband always falling short of his smarter, more capable wife. It kept the peace and also gave me an escape. But while it generated laughter for readers, it also generated an identity that I grew increasingly uncomfortable with. My ex-wife, who was a successful business woman, would introduce me to clients at parties or dinners as “the silly guy they’ve read in the newspaper.”

They expected me to be the same silly guy. Always.  Continue reading Monday, Hasty Dawn is giving me the chance to #BeReal

That one St. Paddy’s Day I was attacked by a wooden lion…

(It’s been two years since that fateful St. Paddy’s Day when I was attacked by a wooden lion. Some scars take longer to heal. Especially when there’s splinters. Below is the whole sordid (weird) tail… I mean tale.
Erin go Roar!)

image It’s been nearly 40 years since my third-grade teacher, Mrs. Flunkem, wrote the following remark in red ink on my report card:

Unstructured time is a challenge for Ned.

After reading this, my mother looked at me and said, “Since when did filling your unstructured time become a challenge?”

And things haven’t really changed since then. I can honestly say, through sheer luck and determination, I have put myself in a position to have what I’m sure Mrs. Flunkem would consider entirely too much unstructured time. Fortunately for me, my wife disagrees with Mrs. Flunkem and encourages me to make the most of it.

How?

By saying things like, “Hey Honey! Look at that wooden lion over there!” Continue reading That one St. Paddy’s Day I was attacked by a wooden lion…

If Abe Lincoln could update his famous quote

imageIf Abraham Lincoln was alive today, I think it’s fair to say could all agree on one thing:

It would be really creepy.

I also think he would have a lot to say about the current state of American politics, and how the once noble pursuit of the presidency has become more like “The Amazing Race.”

But without the “amazing” part.

Given the chance, I believe President Lincoln would amend his famous quote to something more like this…

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No, you’re not seeing things; I’m wearing glasses now

imageIt all started a few weeks ago when my wife and I were watching a Japanese movie with subtitles. Being  that I’m the only one in the family who doesn’t wear glasses, I gladly explained to her that Lord Yushido had demanded, “A ferret army be dropped by helicopter upon my enima lesions!”

I’m no expert on early 1700s Japanese history, but I’m pretty sure Shoguns didn’t travel by helicopter. And the rest of that statement… I don’t even want to think about.

“When’s the last time you had an eye exam?” my wife asked, pressing pause and donning her glasses. “And by the way, it says, ‘A fierce army be delivered on horseback to break my enemy’s legions.'”

“Yeah, that makes more sense,” I said, and admitted I hadn’t had an eye exam since middle school. Did I mention I’ll be 50 in a few months? I’ve always prided myself on still having a full head of hair, being in relatively good shape and not needing glasses.

Thanks to Lord Yushido and his lesions, it seemed I might have to settle for two-out-of-three. As we arrived at the optometrist’s office the following weekend, I was still hopeful my eyes had just been tired lately. Or that I’d merely had a minor stroke.

We have teenagers at home, so it was possible.  Continue reading No, you’re not seeing things; I’m wearing glasses now

This Just In: Madman in charge of newsroom this week

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…TAT-tat-tat-TAT-TAT-tat-tat-TAT…

[Breaking News from another strangely irrelevant moment in our newsroom…]

Our editor is on vacation this week. That means I’m in charge. And by “in charge” I mean putting my feet up on the editor’s desk and yelling “Someone get me a photo of that menacing wallcrawler SPIDER-MAN!”

Because this is a nonsmoking building, I do this while waving a giant chocolate cigar around. Yesterday for added effect, I slammed my hand down on the editor’s desk for emphasis. That’s when I realized the cigar had liquor inside. When our office manager came in and found me licking the desk, it got uncomfortable for everyone.   Continue reading This Just In: Madman in charge of newsroom this week

Because the women in my life make every day worth celebrating

imageSitting on the edge of the bed this morning, I looked over at my wife’s slowly stirring figure. I watched her stretch beneath the blankets and finish with that little squeal that means it was a good stretch. She yawned, covering her mouth with the back of her hand like she always does. Her eyes focused and she slowly smiled at me.

I smiled back, knowing in that moment I was exactly where I was supposed to be in my life.

Before heading to work, I slipped a note into her lunch:

You make every day better because of loving you.

It wasn’t until arriving at work that a Facebook post informed me it was National Women’s Day. It made me think of how the women in my life — especially my wife, daughters and mother — are a constant inpiration, and how the gift of their presence is something worth celebrating every day.  Continue reading Because the women in my life make every day worth celebrating

I’m glad the computer ‘Help Line’ doesn’t handle suicide prevention

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 I’m glad the computer ‘Help Line’ doesn’t handle suicide prevention

That time an elephant gave birth in my hotel room

You may not want to see this...
You may not want to see this…

Yesterday, I wrote about the obligation we all share in pursuing our weirdness, and how the city of Portland in my home state of Oregon has an unofficial slogan I feel is a noble pursuit: Keep Portland Weird. For those of you who have read my last few posts, you’ve probably figured out I actually spent some time in the City of Weirdness last week. If you haven’t read them, I’m sorry — but it’s too late to issue a spoiler alert.

That being said, during my stay I encountered what was easily the most annoying door in the history of hotel rooms. And as someone who actually read “The History of Hotel Room Doors” by Robert Hookey, you can trust my judgement.

While it would’ve been easy to react by demanding the hotel to bring a can of WD-40 to my room (for the door hinges, jeez…), or move me to a different room, I decided to take my own advice and utilize my inner weirdness to keep things in perspective and deal with the situation with a laugh instead of a grumble.  Continue reading That time an elephant gave birth in my hotel room

You owe it to the world to pursue your weirdness

imageAs an Oregonian who spent several years living in Portlandia, I feel the city’s unofficial mantra “Keep Portland Weird” is a noble pursuit. The world needs weird. Not the Donald Trump kind of weird, which is like a Stephen-King-horror-novel-with-a-terrifying-evil-clown-kind-of-weird.

No, I’m talking about a less volatile, better coiffed and more enjoyable kind of weirdness that helps us keep a fresh perspective on daily life.

Albert Einstein, Edgar Alan Poe, Leonardo da Vinci, Lucille Ball — all were geniuses in their own way who reminded us to see the world with wonderment by unapologetically pursuing their weirdness.

I’m no genius. I’m reminded of this every time I spend 5 minutes getting frustrated with the TV remote, then realize it’s the garage door opener — usually after the neighbor calls to tell me our Labrador is repeatedly being knocked unconscious. Though I’m no genius, I do consider myself weird. And so do others. Particularly my teenagers, who avoid eye contact whenever we’re in public because they’re afraid I’ll do something weird that will embarrass them.

Or as they jokingly say, “DESTROY OUR LIVES!”

Ha! Ha!

Ok, maybe they’re not joking.  Continue reading You owe it to the world to pursue your weirdness