Can you believe it? They’re letting me publish another book

imageAfter taking a good look at this photo, I know what most of you are probably thinking:

His real name is Edward? Hahahaha!

But don’t forget, there is an entire generation of Twilight babies out there named Edward.

Or Jacob. And man, do those Jacob babies have some freakishly developed abs.

However, the real point of this post is to share with you that, this morning, I officially signed a contract with Port Hole Publishing for my second book, Pearls of Writing Wisdom from 16 Shucking Years as a Columnist. This is an important step beyond what had previously been me unofficially talking about my soon-to-be-published book with strangers, sipping directly from a vodka bottle while hunched over an empty bowl of peanuts at the bar. It also means that in order to meet my September publication date, I need to get the finished manuscript to my publisher by mid June.

So…

Gotta Go!

 

Just kidding. It’s not that bad.  Continue reading Can you believe it? They’re letting me publish another book

There’s something I’ve been meming to tell you

imageMemes.

They are the Superbowl commercials of our daily lives, offering a moment of laughter or introspection without the obligation of remembering who made them. The word “meme” became part of my vocabulary about six months ago, thanks to my teenagers, who are constantly enhancing my life with important terminology. Without them, I would be the Fred Flintstone of social media living in a world of The Jetsons, texting “Yabba Dabba Doo!” with my thick thumbs only to have it auto-corrected to “Abba Dances Too!”

I would be alone in the cyberworld. A man on a deserted social media island. Out of touch. Except for the Abba spam.

But fortunately my kids keep me plugged in and — when it comes to what’s trending — on the cutting edge. Sure, if we’re being honest it’s an edge that needs sharpening. That’s what I have my teenagers for! And yes, they sometimes (i.e., more often than not) regret keeping Dad in the loop with what’s trending. For example, when the “Damn, Daniel!” vines and memes went viral, my kids shared them with me — which got me thinking:

What if Daniel had been Danny LaRusso from “Karate Kid” instead?  Continue reading There’s something I’ve been meming to tell you

Ashes to ashes, dust to… Hey, not so fast!

imageThis summer I’ll turn 50.

There. I said it.

The truth is, I haven’t given it much thought because I don’t feel 50. Sure, there are some days I roll out of bed, walk to the bathroom and realize the creaking and popping sounds I hear aren’t coming from the floorboards. And yes, I’ve noticed when I’m cleaning out my razor it looks like someone used it to shave our neighbor’s grey Schnauzer. But most days I throw on a rocker T-shirt or slim-fit dress shirt, leave it untucked over my jeans, lace up my superhero Vans or hiking boots and am on my way.

Then I rush back in for a second trip to the rest room.

But still… I’m technically on my way.

However, over the last several months I’ve started getting reminders from society’s collective data bank that I am getting older. The first came in my email back in January, when I got one of those Singles Looking for Love In Your Area! messages. I’ve received many of these over the years, and they always include the image of an attractive 30-something woman in a sun dress laughing with an equally attractive 30-something man as they sip wine on a beach at sunset.

Not anymore.  Continue reading Ashes to ashes, dust to… Hey, not so fast!

My friend’s carbon footprint leaves grass clippings everywhere

imageAfter years of creating ad campaigns for high-profile companies like Coca-Cola, a good friend of mine in Atlanta has decided to do what many successful advertising people do when they reach that point in their careers where they can simply LOOK at a new product and, without any hesitation whatsoever, begin to vomit:

They leave advertising behind to launch their own lawn care business.

Like some of history’s most successful entrepreneurs, Fred spent time studying his new market, its trends and the competition before assembling a detailed business plan, which he described as follows: “I bought a lawnmower.”

On the surface, this may not sound like much of a business plan. But as Fred pointed out, what sets him apart from other lawn care enterprises around Atlanta — aside from his limited grasp of Spanish — is the TYPE of mower and equipment he’s using. While other lawn care enterprises utilize gas-powered equipment that emit enough exhaust smoke to divert air traffic as far west as Alabama, “I use manual-reel mowers, electric gear and hand tools in order to reduce emissions and promote more responsible, planet-friendly yard work,” Fred explained.

I considered this for a moment — this idea of promoting more responsible, environmentally-conscious yard work — before responding with, “Hahahahahahahahahahaha!”

“No, really,” said Fred, who cited an EPA study that stated that a piece of gas-powered lawn gear actually creates more pollution than a car.

“Unless it’s a Gremlin,” he quickly added.  Continue reading My friend’s carbon footprint leaves grass clippings everywhere

Male culture makes instilling healthy sexuality in our sons more difficult

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I saw my first naked woman when I was 9, thanks to a kid named Jimmy, whose father had a collection of Playboy magazines under the bed. While his parents were at the grocery store, Jimmy yanked out a copy and with practiced ease flipped to the centerfold.

“Your mom has one of these,” he said, pointing between the legs of Miss August.

“No WAY!” I said, unwilling to accept that my mother could possibly have anything on her body that, in my mind anyway, looked like a piece of our cafeteria meatloaf. I left soon after, convinced that Jimmy had shown me a magazine of female freaks. When our class began studying the human reproductive system later that spring, Jimmy turned to me and winked when Mrs. Flunkem used her ruler to point out the vagina being projected onto the chalk board.

“Your momma,” he mouthed.

Years later, that feeling of embarrassment was something I was determined to spare my own sons. The truth is, women are much more aware of their bodies and sexuality, and at a much younger age, then men. The male culture communicates about sexuality in much the same way it does about sports: through stats and stories. Anything deeper than that, and the shoulder punching begins. However, it was important to me that my sons not only understand the physicality of reproduction and, unlike me, never find themselves shocked by a vagina, it was just as important that they understand sexuality is not a statistic or story to be told — it’s how we communicate love beyond our words.

*shoulder punch*  Continue reading Male culture makes instilling healthy sexuality in our sons more difficult

That time I decided to quit writing

image Over the weekend, I had the chance to work with some young writers, one of whom asked me the proverbial question, “Did you always want to be a writer?”

I smiled, nodded my head and replied, “Oh, hell no.”

After an awkward silence, I went on to explain that I had been writing stories since I could chew a pencil eraser. And while it has always been a part of me, it wasn’t until making the conscious decision to give it up for a while that I truly understood the importance of writing in my life — and how, without it, I wasn’t completely me. However, without that experience, I would still be thinking of writing as a pursuit rather than what it really is:

Something that finds you. 

I quit writing  back in 2006. For almost a year. It had nothing to do with the typical kind of frustrations every writer faces, such as not having a readership or being told it’s time to “get serious” with your life by family, friends or every publisher on the West coast. It wasn’t the result of drug addiction or alcohol abuse, although I did find myself addicted to watching Grey’s Anatomy, which made me WANT to drink.  Continue reading That time I decided to quit writing

Because Marvel doesn’t have an Aquaman…

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Because, let’s be honest: We know it’s only a matter of time…

Dignity is easier to swallow with a little hot sauce

imageWithin our lives there are certain moments that inspire a deeper understanding of ourselves. I experienced such an epiphany yesterday morning during a quiet moment of introspection; crouched in the backyard; sprinkling dog poop with hot sauce.

To clarify, I was not attempting to create the world’s most disgusting Cajun appetizer. According to a book on canine behavior, this would train our dog to avoid eating his “leftovers.” It was in that moment, while clutching a bottle of Tabasco and trying not to be seen by my neighbors, I came to realize that somewhere along the way providing our dog with decent manners had become more important than maintaining my personal dignity.

How did this happen?

I’m a 49-year-old man who survived the diaper phases of two children — both of whom were heavy eaters. I’ve had my share of high profile, low-dignity diaper changes, one of which required quick thinking, commando-like precision, and a paper plate. I’ve sat across from my four-year-old son at a busy restaurant in downtown San Francisco, handed him a cheese stick appetizer, and watched him yak up what appeared to be everything he’d consumed since graduating to solid foods. I tried to salvage the situation by waiting for a lull in gastrol activity and then racing him into the men’s room. And let me just say had the rest rooms been clearly marked, we probably would’ve made it.  Continue reading Dignity is easier to swallow with a little hot sauce

Why NASA will never let me order furniture

imageIt wasn’t until dragging our furniture onto the patio during our spring cleaning that I realized our couches looked like they were purchased from a crackhouse garage sale. After years of having the dogs rub themselves along the front, and motionless teenagers planted on the cushions for hours at a time, they were dirty, lumpy and misshapen.

And so were our couches.

After a discussion about the merits of keeping our old set and the cost of replacing them with a new one, my wife and I decided to go ahead and get rid of our old sofa and love seat.

Total elapsed time of this conversation: 11 seconds.

That includes the eight seconds we spent covering the couches with a tarp so no one else would see them. Naturally, before going to the furniture store, I needed to measure the wall and floor space in the livingroom to ensure we wouldn’t order the wrong size couches and end up having a conversation like this:

Me: Honey, would you like me to grab you a soda from the fridge?
My wife: Only if you’re going that way.
Me: It’s no trouble. The other end of the couch is in the kitchen anyway.  Continue reading Why NASA will never let me order furniture

Because sometimes, breaking into print requires a chainsaw

Because we all need a friend with a chainsaw
We all need a friend with a chainsaw

We all make mistakes…

Trimming your eye brows when you have a hangover.

Trying to bathe your cat without a tourniquet handy.

Going to a Kanye West concert.

Or not knowing Michelle Terry and her blog Lipstick and Laundry.

While there’s nothing I can do to erase the physical and/or emotional pain you may be carrying from those first three mistakes, there IS something you can do about that last one by joining me, Mandi Castle, Kati Cross, Karen Malena, Carrie Ruben, Beth Teliho and Charissa Stastny at Lipstick and Laundry today, where Michelle is hosting a writers’ panel offering tips on how to get punished.

Oops! I mean published!

Many of you probably know a few — if not all — of the authors on this panel, and may even own their books. Mandi’s Dear Stephanie and Beth’s The Order of Seven are part of my own book collection, and are both really terrific reads despite not having any pictures.  Continue reading Because sometimes, breaking into print requires a chainsaw