Category: Recently probed (and potentially sore) subjects

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

It’s time to separate Thanksgiving fact from fiction with the help of Mr. Knowitall

image It’s been 389 years since that first Thanksgiving, when the Pilgrims and Wampanoag Indians sat down together in celebration and, much like the Americans of today, made a solemn vow not to eat more than your standard bull elk.

We know this because of a passage recently discovered in the diary of Pilgrim Edward Winslow, who described the first Thanksgiving like this:

Our harvest be large so that we might rejoice! Our plates and bellies be full to swelling! We have feasted on meats and gathered crops, and pies of sweet fruit!
Aye, I say! I think it be time to vomit!
— Edward Winslow, Dec. 13, 1621

In spite of this kind of irrefutable historic documentation, many myths still exist about one of our most celebrated holidays. For example: Did anyone actually eat the Indian corn, or was it just used as a decoration? Continue reading It’s time to separate Thanksgiving fact from fiction with the help of Mr. Knowitall

Want to keep your writing fresh? Start with regular flossing

image I’d like to thank the American Dental Association for sponsoring this week’s writing tip, which brings me to a startling statistic: 4-out-of-5 dentists have never recommended or even heard of this blog. The fifth dentist only heard about it when, moments after my lips went numb, I was trying to say “Ben Roethlisberger’s lob” and he thought I said “Ned’s worthless blog.” Regardless, there are many similarities between keeping a fresh feeling to your writing and avoiding gingivitis. So think of me as your “literary orthodontist” as I take you through a quick writer’s check-up. Please remember I don’t have a saliva vacuum…

Flossing:
A good dentist will tell you it’s important to floss between meals, and will demonstrate its importance by flossing for you during your visit. That’s unless he also happens to be your proctologist, in which case I’d like to welcome you to the new National Health Care Plan. Continue reading Want to keep your writing fresh? Start with regular flossing

Dirty diaper football: another good reason to use disposables

image Though I’m a parent who is many years beyond his children’s diaper phase (Ya Baby! WOOO-HOOO, You Know it! YOWZA!)

…Sorry

Anyway, I have several friends who are now embarking on this journey and who have asked my advice regarding the choice between cloth or disposable diapers. I told them, without hesitation, that I was somewhat offended by their insinuation, and that unless it was All-You-Can-Eat-Frijole-Night at the Enfermo Taco, I was still quite in control of my bodily functions, thank you very much.

Moments later, upon returning from the restroom, it hit me: I really needed to go back. It was during this second run — or really more of a quick step — I realized they had been referring to diapers for their own children. Continue reading Dirty diaper football: another good reason to use disposables

Coming soon to a group meeting near you: My shameless self promotional tour

As you can see, I'm positioning myself for potential sponsorship from Swanson's.
As you can see, I’m positioning myself for potential sponsorship from Swanson’s.
This morning officially kicked off my book promotion junket — or in my case, dinghy — by speaking at the Unitarian Universalist Church.

My topic?

Biblical Prophecy and Its Warnings About Miley Cyrus.

At least, that was going to be my topic. But following the advice of my publisher, Ellen, I made a last-minute topic change:

Life Without Humor is No Laughing Matter (Get it?) Continue reading Coming soon to a group meeting near you: My shameless self promotional tour

Take it from me: You can’t run from static electricity

image When I was a kid I had a book called Mysteries of the Unexplained that contained AMAZING BUT TRUE! stories aimed at stirring the imagination, eliciting a sense of wonder, and prolonging the bed-wetting experience by at least three years. I’d huddle beneath the covers with my flashlight and read about strange psychic phenomena documented by real scientists, physicists, private investigators, and the occasional freaked-out paranormal expert who, at the end of the story, usually abandoned his profession to become a plumber:

“Even now, after all these years, I can still feel those icy fingers whenever a cold breeze blows across my butt crack…”

Though the book was mostly about ghosts, aliens, strange disappearances and creepy folklore (“…so stand alone in the dark, if you dare, and hold a mirror while repeating the words Sassafras Sally and prepare to be slapped by a pair of wet tea bags…”), it was spontaneous human combustion that really got to me. I think it’s because, in my mind, ghosts, aliens, strange disappearance and folklore could all be avoided by exercising a little caution. Continue reading Take it from me: You can’t run from static electricity

If calling customer service doesn’t help, try the suicide hotline

image Sometime between yesterday afternoon and this 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 If calling customer service doesn’t help, try the suicide hotline

Today proves The Box is part of a higher power (or someone was high)

I'm not sure if "Skippy" bites. Actually, I'm not even sure if he's a squirrel. Or a "he."
I’m not sure if “Skippy” bites. Actually, I’m not even sure if he’s a squirrel. Or a “he.”
That scream you just heard, depending on you proximity to our newsroom, can only mean one thing! Ok, possibly two, but I haven’t written in the nude for at least a month. That means today’s scream was the result of releasing a wild, blindfolded squirrel into the newsroom.

Why?

Because it’s time once again to randomly choose a photo from our collection of decades-old unclaimed and unidentified photos in The Box here at Siuslaw News.

Before I reveal this week’s photo, I must admit I was shocked that an image of its importance and religious significance had been sitting in The Box for the last 20 to 30 years. I called The Vatican and was told a special team of trained investigators would be dispatched to verify the authenticity of this photo, just as soon as they were done disproving claims that Sean “Puffy” Combs is a deity. “Given that he is the only one to make these claims, it shouldn’t take long,” said the Vatican representative I spoke with. Continue reading Today proves The Box is part of a higher power (or someone was high)

Rule number one to coaching kids: Never, ever forget the jelly donuts

(I’m sure a lot of you have been wondering, “Where is today’s Flashback Sunday? It’s always posted at 6:30 a.m.!” Ok, fine; only one of you was. Regardless, like many Americans do this time of year, I completely forgot about the time change and, as a result, didn’t remember to set my clock back by … uh… 12 hours. I know we’re actually suppose to gain an hour, but seeing as how every clock in our house has a different time, I’m sure you can understand how this could have happened. My apologies to everyone. To avoid making this mistake again in the spring, I will be posting my March 9 Flashback Sunday in an hour…)

Going downtown for a hail Mary pass into the bucket.
As I’ve mentioned before, I’m not very athletic. I made this realization in the third grade, when I was knocked unconscious 32 times playing dodge ball. After that first game, I remember waking up in the nurse’s office and being told of a special program for “gifted” athletes who were so special they got to wear a football helmet during recess.

Of course, I eventually figured out there was no “special program,” and openly expressed my feelings of betrayal when I slammed my helmet on the desk of my high school counselor.

After which I was taken to the hospital with a broken finger.

I live with the memory of being an unathletic child on a daily basis. Particularly when I look in the mirror and see a man whose head still fits into a third-grade football helmet. For this reason, when my daughter asked me to coach her fourth-grade basketball team, I smiled, took her hand, and began faking a seizure. I panicked at the thought of providing guidance to a team of fourth-grade girls, any one of whom could “take me to the hole.” Continue reading Rule number one to coaching kids: Never, ever forget the jelly donuts

Nose whistling is the heart and soul of any relationship

imageIt’s one of life’s little mysteries, the fact that I can fall asleep in front of the television during a documentary chronicling man’s loudest explosions, yet be kept awake by the sound of my own nose whistling. In my defense, this was a new phenomenon, and something that, under any other circumstances, would have been amusing. However, at 1:30 in the morning, having your nose emit a solid C-major every time you exhale is just plain annoying.

What made matters worse was that I wasn’t alone in my musical endeavors. My wife was also blowing her horn — I’m guessing in E-flat — which, between the two of us, sounded like a pair of jug blowers trying to tune up for the spring dance. Instinctively, I grabbed the earplugs from the nightstand and inserted them. As I quickly discovered, this is a little like covering your ears so you can’t hear yourself sing. I then contemplated the idea of inserting the plugs directly into my nostrils, but decided against it for two reasons.

First, I would be forced to breath through my mouth, which would lead to snoring and bruised ribs.

Secondly, should my mouth somehow fall shut during the night, the resulting pressure would create a pair of high-velocity projectiles ricocheting through our bedroom without warning — the mere thought of which would keep me awake. Continue reading Nose whistling is the heart and soul of any relationship

No pumpkin-carving experience is complete without a near-fatal knife wound

image Carving a jack-o-lantern used to require little more than a pumpkin, an oversized kitchen knife, and a tourniquet. It was a simple matter of plunging a 10-inch French knife into the gourd of your choice and creating a triangle-eyed, square-toothed masterpiece of horror. In those days, the trickiest thing about making your jack-o-lantern was deciding on how to light the candle.

Option one: Light candle, then attempt to lower it into the pumpkin without catching your sleeve on fire.

Option two: Put the candle inside the pumpkin first, then attempt to light it without catching your sleeve on fire.

Option three: Accept the inevitable and just light your sleeve on fire, then go find a candle.

After a quick trip to the emergency room for stitches and some light skin grafting, you could return home and set your jack-o-lantern on the porch, where it would remain until gravity and molecular breakdown eventually caused it to collapse in on itself like the birth of a new star — appropriately enough, usually around Christmas time. Continue reading No pumpkin-carving experience is complete without a near-fatal knife wound