Tag: Culture

For the first time, I wasn’t chosen last!

imageWhen D.G. Kaye (aka the wonderful Debby Gies) asked me if I’d be the first in her new Friday authors and books series, it was just just like when Ricky Overbite chose me first for kickball, or Sarah Getlost asked me to the Sadie Hawkins dance, or Mrs. Flunkem requested I say the Pledge of Alliegence in front of the classroom: I said, “Weeeellll, let me think about it.”

That’s usually when someone snapped their fingers in my face, breaking me out of my daydream to realize I was either the only one who hadn’t been picked for a team, was dancing with the janitor’s broom after the dance or had actually worn my pajamas to school just like in the nightmare.

So, needless to say, when Debby asked me to be her guest today to kick off her new Friday series, I said “OhHeckYes!”

If you aren’t familiar with Debby, you probably need to get out more. She’s the author of several books, a tireless supporter and inspirer of authors, and a gifted humor and memoir writer.

I’m very honored to be her debut guest and hope you’ll join me over at her place, where she asked me a lot of terrific questions that, in some cases, may have been even more interesting than my answers.

To hop over there, just click HERE! (No, not HERE. Back there where it says HERE)

 

Age is relative, especially for an all-beef patty

imageAs I mentioned, I turned 50 several weeks ago. The good news is I have a friend who just turned 60.

Relative to him, I’m a young man (Of which I will keep reminding him until that sad day when, unexpectedly, he knocks out my front teeth with his walker).

My point is, when it comes to age, what seems relative can quickly change.

Yesterday, for example, I was eating at a fast-food place when I noticed a pair of college-aged girls taking glances at me from another table. This has happened before, which is why I instinctively went through a series of mental checkpoints drawn from previous experience:

1) Is there condiment blowback in my hair, on my chin or around my nostril(s)?
2) What am I wearing today, and is there any part I forgot to snap closed, zip up or buckle down?
3) Did I unknowingly allow any part of my body’s internal gastro process to be heard externally?
4) Am I slouching, hunched or otherwise postured in a manner that makes it appear I’m protecting my $3.99 Value Meal, possibly to the death?

And lastly,
5) Is there someone much younger and better-looking sitting directly behind me?  Continue reading Age is relative, especially for an all-beef patty

This Just In! A weekly newspaper edition to my blog

NNW 16 2As National Newspaper Week continues (where have you BEEN?!?), I took the opportunity to write about some of the reasons I’ve enjoyed my 17 years here at our small-town newspaper as a columnist and journalist — and now as its editor.

Over the last several years I’ve heard many people comment how the newspaper industry is a dying institution thanks to the digital age and access to instant information. While it has certainly impacted the larger news formats, I have to disagree with their prognosis when it comes to the continued relevance of small-town papers. I believe they provide our communities with perspectives, information and a voice like no other resource. More than news pushes and canned feeds from automated sources, small-town newspapers offer the most true reflection of their readership and the commuities they serve.

Here’s why…  Continue reading This Just In! A weekly newspaper edition to my blog

Returning to normalcy (but consider the source)

imageAs you probably noticed (if not, please pretend you did) that I have been absent from my blog the last few weeks.

While I’d like to say it’s because my vacation spot in the Caribbean was too remote for Wi-Fi, it actually had less to do with banana drinks and tanning lotion, and more to do with a “perfect storm” of life-changing events that I am just now getting a handle on.

The short version? Over the last three weeks I was promoted to Editor at our newspaper (See the card? That makes it official!), my new book was released and I become Membership Chairman for the National Society of Newspaper Columnists (NSNC).

Oh, and somewhere in there I turned 50.

So what does all of this mean? Essentially it means I’ve been getting my butt kicked. For example, just moving into my new office meant going through 17 years of accumulated crap important journalistic files, moving furniture, painting, hiding graffiti about the previous editor, etc…  Continue reading Returning to normalcy (but consider the source)

Why not start your day with a flaming Pop-Tart?

imageCooking can be dangerous, especially when it includes all three components of what experts call the Triangle of Fire:

1) A heat source
2) Combustible material
3) Our son.

While I can vouch for him having absolutely nothing to do with any wildfires, he was in fact responsible for the 2015 Oak Street popcorn smoke-out. It only took that one experience for us to realize just how dangerous popcorn kernels can be once their internal temperature exceeds 6,000 degrees Fahrenheit. Let me just say that if your microwavable popcorn bag is ever allowed to expand to the size of your favorite pillow, DO NOT open it.

Ever.

Our government has special underground dump sights specifically designed for this kind of toxic material; please use them.  Continue reading Why not start your day with a flaming Pop-Tart?

Step one to romantic cuisine: Insert beer can into chicken cavity

Meimagen, by their very nature, are grillers of food. If you follow me on Facebook, then you know I love grilling everything from steak kabobs to bacon-wrapped bratwurst. This is because grilling, aside from providing men with a legitimate excuse to drink beer and play with fire, is actually a sign of romance and affection dating back to the discovery of fire itself.

We know this thanks to recently discovered cave paintings depicting what archeologists believe is a romantic meal prepared by a Neanderthal named Glork soon after the discovery of fire.

According to archeologists, the sequence goes like this:

Painting one: Glork makes a small fire using a careful mixture of embers, dry leaves, and an assortment of twigs. He then douses it with liberal amounts of highly flammable liquid, creating a massive fireball that scorches the roof of his cave.

Painting two: Glork adds a marinated pterodactyl drumstick to the fire and begins drinking an unidentified beverage.

Paintings three through six: Glork continues drinking a lot more of his unidentified beverage.  Continue reading Step one to romantic cuisine: Insert beer can into chicken cavity

Finding the good in rejection (especially as a writer)

Keep your tank full; you don't want to run out of gas here.
Keep your tank full; you don’t want to run out of gas here.

When I fell for Sarah Getlost in the fourth grade, I was taking no chances. My father explained to me that women couldn’t resist a man in uniform. He told me this while wearing a white T-shirt, Bermuda shorts and drinking a beer, so I had to take his word for it. My plan was to wait for our little league candy sale and go to her house dressed in my new baseball uniform.

In theory, it was a good plan.

In reality, Sarah Getlost answered the door wearing her new cheerleader outfit, effectively neutralizing me. So, to impress her, I gave her my candy, a new baseball and all of my money. Although I wasn’t immediately rejected, it came swiftly once my mother found out and forced me to return to Sarah’s house to ask for all my stuff back. I don’t remember exactly what I said, only that it was awkward and involved a lot of gulping to keep the bitter taste of rejection from coming back up.

Although I think all that chalk I swallowed in the second grade helped a little.

Rejection is a part of life, particularly for writers. We set ourselves up for potential rejection every time we send out a query, have an article published online or in print, or post something to our blog or social media page. Thanks to the digital age, we have more ways than ever to receive rejection!  Continue reading Finding the good in rejection (especially as a writer)

When you celebrate your 50th birthday at work

image I’m not sure what my parents were thinking when they had sex 50 years and 9 months ago.

Actually I guess I do, and well… Ewwww.

Anyway, if they had stopped just long enough to glance at a calander for 2016, they would’ve CLEARLY seen that my 50th birthday would probably fall on a work day. And a deadline day no less! Not that they could’ve know that. But why even take the chance?

With a little planning, and some restraint for God’s sake, they could’ve avoided putting me in this situation.

Even our local doughnut shop got in on the act by making this…  Continue reading When you celebrate your 50th birthday at work

Who wore it better? (Don’t bother answering that)

imageAs I warned mentioned on Friday, I was going to be dressing up as Marilyn Monroe on Saturday. Believe it or not, that’s not usually a part of my weekend “to-do” list:

Mow lawn.

Change oil in car.

Give dogs a bath.

Wear high heels and a dress.

However, somehow I got talked into participating in the “Mr. Relay” fundraiser event at our local Relay for Life cancer walk. Given that it was called “Mr. Relay,” I assumed there would be some manliness involved. Maybe some feats of strength. Or a swimsuit competition. Fortunately for me, neither of those were involved because, hey — how embarrassing would THAT be! Haha!

Instead, we were asked to dress as our favorite female movie star or character.  Continue reading Who wore it better? (Don’t bother answering that)

Naturally, I’m dressing as Marilyn Monroe to help fight cancer

imageI don’t have good-looking legs.

Not even in heels, which I have worn during the Men’s March Against Domestic Violence, and also the night I turned 21.

Fortunately, in both cases (Well, one for sure) I had pants on, so other than looking like a standard poodle walking on its hind legs for a dog biscuit, everyone was spared from seeing my hairy stork legs.

To be honest, even a stork would probably wear pants if it had my legs.

However, come Aug. 13, I will jeopardize the vision of hundreds of people at the American Cancer Society’s Relay for Life in my home town by dressing as Marilyn Monroe for the “Mr. Relay” fundraiser.

Naturally, I will be wearing heels. And yes, at some point my skirt will be blown upward, revealing a sight that even Miley Cyrus said “Crosses the line of decency.”  Continue reading Naturally, I’m dressing as Marilyn Monroe to help fight cancer