Hello: My name isn’t Larry

(If your New Year’s resolution was to not miss a single Flashback Sunday post in 2014, CONGRATULATIONS! You are well on your way, with only 51 flashbacks to go! If, however, your goal was to start working out each morning but, instead, have decided to “adjust” that goal by having coffee in bed while reading this week’s flashback, CONGRATULATIONS ANYWAY! While others are getting sweaty, hungry and staring at someone’s sweaty backside in step aerobics, you are comfy and caffeinated. Who’s 2014 is off to a better start?)

why-hire-a-contractor-1 copy There are three things I know about “Larry.”

He is a contractor; he lives somewhere in Multnomah County; and he has the same cell phone number that I do.

The calls started about a month ago, presumably about the time “Larry” got his contractor’s license and began making bids. Since then, he has been a busy man, picking up jobs and making sure that his clients know they can call him any time. Day or night. For any reason at all.

Which they do — to my cell phone.

The Hansons, for example, call whenever they change their mind about what color tile to use around the bidet in their new bathroom. For the Gilmores, deciding between cedar shakes or aluminum siding requires at least one consultation a day. And the Reyboulds are still contemplating the ripple effect of kitchen cabinets without knobs. Mrs. Reybould thinks knobs would make their kitchen look more inviting; Mr. Reybould believes not having knobs would stymie their 2-year-old and keep him out of the cabinets for at least another year. Continue reading Hello: My name isn’t Larry

Tools for thought… or food for your toolbox… or something like that

image A while back, I talked about three of the most important tools a writer wields when it comes to establishing their voice. Does anyone remember what they were?

For the sake of time and my feelings, let’s just assume the rest of you remember what those tools were and, in a series of uncontrollable outbursts, begin shouting out the following:

TIMING!

TRUTHFULNESS!

and…

CUERVO!

No, the third tool is RELATIVITY — not Cuervo. Even though I think we can all agree Cuervo does have a way of making even the most abstract things seem relevant.

In this case, however, Relativity means ensuring the reader can relate to what we’re writing about. This is especially true when it comes to personal experience and family anecdotes. For example, that hilarious story about how Aunt Frida got mad and stomped through the garden won’t be nearly as entertaining to readers as it is to you unless, like you, they already know Aunt Frida was a mule. I realize that’s an overstatement, but unless you take time to lay the foundation of your story in a way that involves the reader, they will likely sit down and refuse to follow. Continue reading Tools for thought… or food for your toolbox… or something like that

My 2013 year in review (Or why I’m moving to Sydney)

The image from my most popular post for 2013, which was also Freshly Pressed. Apparently, a lot of people like VW vans.
The image from my most popular post for 2013, which was also Freshly Pressed. Apparently, a lot of people like VW vans.
My thanks to The WordPress.com stats helper-monkeys for preparing this 2013 wrap-up for my blog, but mostly I want to thank all of YOU for making this past year what it was — and this blog for what it has become. And even though I don’t know what that is exactly, I do know it is distracting 1,302 more people now than it was last year at this time. I also know the search term “Naked Ned” drove the most traffic here.

Mostly from Australia.

What this tells me is that, in addition to Australia’s obvious high standards in nude men named Ned, my chance at landing an Outback Steakhouse endorsement is still alive and well in 2014.

Here’s why I’m planning a visit to Australia…

The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 33,000 times in 2013. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 12 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

And keep in mind that’s without any mention of showing off my Bloomin’ Onion.

Again, my sincerest thanks to everyone who not only found this corner of the blog-o-sphere in 2013 but, for reasons I’m sure are a frequent topic of discussion with your psychiatrists, keep coming back…

For the full Monty on the highlights of 2013, please click here

Don’t forget to remove the cat when taking down your Christmas tree

image For our family, packing up the Christmas decorations is never easy. Not only because it means the official end of the holiday season, but also because it means it’s time to pry the cat out of the Christmas tree.

What makes this process especially difficult is sap. You see, it’s not until after spending the better part of December attached to the mid-section of our tree that our cat realizes she can no longer retract her claws.

A few years ago, this actually resulted in a front page story in the Weekly World News under the headline:

Holiday Tree sprouts CAT TUMOR!

It’s not like we haven’t tried to keep this tragedy from happening. In fact, we’ve even taken our cat to a pet psychologist, thinking that maybe she suffers from a traumatic experience that is somehow triggered by the site of Christmas trees — such as an unresolved conflict with a strand of tinsel. Continue reading Don’t forget to remove the cat when taking down your Christmas tree

Full-contact bowling could get more men to yell at their TVs

(Around here, Sundays are for more than just sleeping in — and my kids make sure of that. It’s also the day I reach way, wayyyy back into the archives, arching my back like an Olympic gymnast in order to retrieve a post from a time when my total followers matched the number of people in my immediate family. On an unrelated note, I could use the name of a good chiropractor…)

Full-contact bowling could add a whole new meaning to the agony of defeat.
Full-contact bowling could add a whole new meaning to the agony of defeat.
Like millions of other red-blooded, unathletic men across America, I will spend a good portion of New Year’s Day sitting on the couch, eating handfuls of assorted snack foods, and whining every time a player from my team makes even the teeniest mistake.

It doesn’t matter that these men are performing feats of athletic skill I can only achieve in my dreams (after which I usually wake up with a pulled groin muscle.) And it doesn’t matter that each of these men possesses more muscle mass than my entire body weight plus a mid-sized SUV. Continue reading Full-contact bowling could get more men to yell at their TVs

Exciting tips on how to fail at your New Year’s writing resolutions

image No, we didn’t hit a time warp. And no, you aren’t just waking up from a rum-induced fog caused by fruitcake vapors. It really is FRIDAY! If you’re like me, and spent most of yesterday thinking it was Monday, this probably comes as a bit of a shock. Rest assured, being a journalist, I have verified this development through rigorous research and the help of my local Starbuck’s, where I was told it is Frappe’ Friday. That means in addition to saving .50 cents on a $9 coffee drink whose name sounds like a kitten getting sick, it’s also time for Ned’s Nickel’s Worth on Writing — or my NWOW for short. Not that my NWOW has ever been called short.

At least in terms of word count.

For those who might be visiting for the first time, I should explain this is the day I draw upon my 15 years as a columnist to offer tips that Writer’s Digest recently called “… a shining example of why some writers go on to have successful careers as plumbers…” and what Tom Clancy has described as “The antithesis of precise literary implosion.”

I don’t know what that means exactly, but hey: Tom CLANCY said it! And that’s good enough for me.

But enough with the accolades! Continue reading Exciting tips on how to fail at your New Year’s writing resolutions

If at first you don’t succeed, I’ll meet you in Customer Service

image It was 10 years ago this week I found myself standing in line with approximately 800 other husbands (conservative estimate) who, like me, had been sent to return the Christmas gift they had gotten their wives.

I should probably point out that I’m not still waiting in that line and have since re-married. I don’t think that is a coincidence.

However, I can distinctly remember the experience for a number of reasons. First, because it’s rare to see so many men standing in line for something that isn’t leading to a sporting event, urinal or more beer.

Not necessarily in that order.

Secondly, I remember it because the loudspeaker, which was positioned directly over my head, played the same Christmas song 16 times. This was over the course of an hour, by the end of which I was making up lyrics I can’t print here. Continue reading If at first you don’t succeed, I’ll meet you in Customer Service

Special Delivery: A cautionary Christmas tale

A blogger friend named Randall recently posted a beautiful poem about taking time to recognize the magic in our lives. In his poem, he used snow as an analogy for the magic that is constantly swirling around us — and how, like snow, it can quickly melt away and go unnoticed unless we make an effort to see it. What follows is a Christmas tale based on a true-life experience. It’s a mixture of fact, whimsy, hope and my belief that a heartfelt wish is the cornerstone of life’s most important magical moments. That said, my thanks to all of you for sharing the magic every day…

image He looked very out of place sitting alone in the flight terminal, his arms folded over a Superman backpack, and large brown eyes peering out from beneath his baseball cap. A few seats away, a keyboard recital was being performed by a businessman wearing Bluetooth headphones and chastising someone at “headquarters” about overspending.

“I said gifts for the immediate staff only. That means Carl, Jody, Jessica and whats-her-name — the gal we hired last month,” he instructed, keyboard clattering continuously. “Yeah, her — Loni. But that’s it. I never said anything about the sales department. What? Of course you’re included with the immediate staff. Get yourself something.”

The boy shifted, causing his plastic chair to squeak a bit as he leaned toward the businessman. “Hey, Dad…”

For the first time, the man’s fingers left the keyboard, just long enough to wave his son to silence.

The boy obeyed, and hugged his backpack a little closer to his chest. Continue reading Special Delivery: A cautionary Christmas tale

I’m sorry, Colleen — you won a copy of my book. Can we still be friends?

imageDepending on how your office Christmas party went, some of you may remember last week’s Holiday Blog Hop, hosted by Gliterary Girl Media, and how fate — in the form of a random drawing involving nearly 50 names and a wild, blindfolded squirrel named “Skippy” — meant some unfortunate soul was going to win a free copy of my new book, Humor at the Speed of Life.

I’m here to report, after completing an arduous selection process with the help of “Skippy” (followed by a brief visit to the emergency room), an unsuspecting victim a lucky winner has been selected!

What is particularly exciting is that, even after being informed of what she won, Colleen at the blog Slow Writer is still willing to accept her prize! In fact, in that dizzying moment when she received the heart-pounding news, her exact words were: “Oh, great… Wait! Isn’t there a coupon for a free Bloomin’ Onion on the back?!?” Continue reading I’m sorry, Colleen — you won a copy of my book. Can we still be friends?

Santa Summit prompts Greenland ‘No-Fly Zone’

(There are only THREE SHOPPING DAYS LEFT before Christmas! But HEY! it’s also Flashback Sunday! That means you have a decision to make: You can either leave now and ensure the happiness of those you love by joining the hordes of desperate shoppers fighting over the last copy of Battlefield 4, OR you can stay here and read this week’s Flashback, secure in the knowledge that your back-up present — Beyonce’s new album — will be available as a free gift with any purchase of a Happy Meal starting Christmas morning. Whichever you choose, please be careful…)

Santa's Christmas Eve will go a little quicker now that he can skip Greenland.
Santa’s Christmas Eve will go a little quicker now that he can skip Greenland.
What makes email great is that it’s so darned easy to use. For example: If you come across something that absolutely HAS TO BE SEEN by everyone you know — like say a picture of a cat doing chin-ups — you can simply click a button and send it to 100 people. Or in the case of my favorite aunt who still hasn’t mastered this process, you can send that very same knee-slapping picture to one person — such as your favorite nephew — 100 times.

The reason I bring this up is because, if not for email, I sincerely doubt someone from Midland, Mich., would’ve gone to the trouble of sending me a photo of 176 Santas standing on the deck of a fishing boat off the coast of Greenland (And YES, this is primarily the kind of email I get.)

I should mention that we were one of 50 newspapers that received the photo, which was part of an announcement letting people know that classes at the Charles W. Howard Santa Claus School had come to an end. Continue reading Santa Summit prompts Greenland ‘No-Fly Zone’