Random Thoughts and Works in Progress

Stalwart companion, faithful, loving friend and a great American.  Whether entertaining playful toddlers in the park or alzheimer patients in the nursing home, she was a gentle force to be reckoned with. Goodbye, Jadey The Lady.  You will be sorely missed.

There are two questions I hear a lot that really drive me nuts.  One is, “Where do you get your ideas?” and the other is, “Why are you only wearing one sock?” Personally, I think it’s rude, intrusive and none of anybody’s business where I got my sock.  But seriously, sometimes people really do inquire about the creative process.  So let us take a gander at some of the roads most taken in order to make with the semi-humorous ideas:

• Sometimes I will just sit out back swinging in the hammock and listen to the soft wind whistle through the bugnut tree.
• On occasion I chew bay leaves and stare emptily into the brambles.
• Often I take to repeatedly tossing my stuffed panda up on the roof where it will roll its way down and land in my waiting arms. Of course, every once in a while I throw it too hard and have to retrieve it on the opposite side of the house. This slows the process down a tad. Also, and this happens more frequently  than I like to admit, it has been known to catch up on the old TV antenna that I should have taken down 15 years ago. This results in me having to use a ladder to retrieve the stuck panda.  I considered buying a slew of backup pandas to keep things moving along, but I figured that would only lead passersby and visitors to remark, “Hey, there are pandas all over your TV antenna.  And why do you still have a TV antenna anyway?” Bottom line, tossing the panda is a labor intensive, iffy proposition at best and I only use it when I’m really desperate for ideas.
• Once in a while I will unroll the yoga mat, which is, in actuality, a black velvet painting of Elvis that I grew weary of looking at in 1997, and plunk down in the lotus position with a bag of chips and a cold beer.  I should probably mention that it’s Elvis side down, due to my allergy to some chemical with a long name that’s in the acrylic paint. Plus, think about it, how many ideas do you think you could come up with if Elvis is staring up at you from the potato chip crumbs?
• Every now and then I will stand up, spin until dizzy and then sit right down and draw whatever comes to mind. this has led to some very funny, but poorly drawn, ideas. Also, you have to really practice this one or you’ll find yourself drawing on furniture or pets.
• Lately, I have taken to simply putting on my thinking cap. I know it’s a cliche , but it does work. Plus the soft bunny lining and the earlappers help to keep me warm on those occasions when I’m thinking outside the box, where the wind chill often drops below freezing.

So, that’s where I get my ideas. Some of them anyway.  I hope this means that people will “A” that “Q” much less “F” in the future.

If the above basic principles help you to get some good ideas yourself, all the better. Particularly if you are an inventor or an amusement park ride designer. Happy idea getting, friends.

Thank you for stopping by.  I wish I could offer you pie, but I’m much too fond of pie to share it.  Please don’t judge me harshly for that. Believe me, if I had donuts, I’d send you home with a bagful of crullers. Well, maybe not crullers. They’re my favorites. How about apple fritters? You’re welcome to as many of them as you can carry. Fill your pockets for all I care. They’re stale anyway.

While you’re here, let me tell you a little bit about myself. As you may have guessed from my smooth demeanor and excellent hygiene, I possess an associates degree in accounting from a major east coast community college. That, of course, explains the data processing machine on the coffee table. I was working on my fantasy bowling league selections for the week. I’m in fourth place right now, if you must know. But I have high hopes for this weekend’s tournaments.

Here’s the thing though.  You would think, with my educational background, that I would naturally be good with numbers.  But I’m not. Seriously. You know how people sometimes will say, “Do the math.”?  Well, I just won’t. I can’t. When pressed, I will spill the contents of my wallet on the floor or fake a mild stroke. Anything to keep from doing the math. Go figure.

And what’s the most frightening part of math? For me anyway? I’m glad you asked.  The answer is decimal points. Long division is ridiculous enough without them. But once you try to cypher something point something into something else point something else, it becomes a maddening and unwieldy smattering of numbers. Trust me. Nothing good ever comes of decimal points.  Particularly when you’re discussing blood alcohol content with someone in a position of authority.

Not to change the subject, but I can see you’re beginning to nod off.  I wish I had something to offer you to drink, but there’s nothing in the fridge except for a 12 pack of Stella Artois. But it’s getting late and I really don’t know you well enough to share beers.  So maybe you should just take your bag of apple fritters and hit the road. But do stop by anytime. Really. Because I have some math horror stories that will curl your hair. (You never took your hat off, so I’m just going to assume that you have hair to curl.) Bye now.

Mistakes were almost made in some recent proposed postings.

• The profanity laced diatribe that was nearly uploaded for public consumption on 9/24/09, was originally intended to be a helium filled, smiley face mylar balloon.
• That group shot of the Elvis tribute artists originally slated to run on 10/18/09, but didn’t?  Well, it turns out that Burgher Wanstead of Port Huron, Michigan was not the third from the left in the fifth row, after all. He was in fact, sitting cross legged in the front making the peace sign or the victory sign. It’s hard to tell which.
• The Russian Tea Biscuit recipe that almost saw the light of day on 11/21 of this year calls for cinnamon and not halibut.
• That 500 word condemnation of the guy in Sparks, Nevada, for admitting to being a philatelist?  It’s a good thing that never ran on 12/04/09, my friend. Because, as it turns out, being a philatelist isn’t quite as bad as it sounds.  (not that you’d want your kid to marry one.)
• The photo that nearly appeared on 12/12/09 with the caption “Johnny’s new iPod Nano”, was, in fact, a snapshot of a half finished bowl of Cheerios taken at a Virginia Beach Diner in the Summer of 2005.
• The scathing review of the road company production of “Wicked”, which was this close to being published here on 12/17/09, was, in reality, my seventh grade book review of “Silas Marner”.  Because it scored a generous B minus from Sister Mary Patrick, I was thinking, hey, I might actually get away with it.
• On the evening of 12/19/09, I regret nearly spending way too much of your time and mine defining the dozens of subtle differences between a derby and a bowler.

We deeply regret almost making these egregious errors.

• The Segway Lords
• Satan’s Flirts
• The Log Cabin Crips
• Hell’s Shoppers On Choppers
• 12 Guys Named Bryce

Can I count on you? Will you be there when the chips are down?  Do you have my back? It’s important that you have my back.  Except on those very rare occasions when I turn and ask you for change for a parking meter or a vending machine or maybe to borrow a breath mint. Then, for however briefly, it’s important that you have my front.  But, for the most part, I really just need to know that you have my back.

On that subject, by the way, please don’t be a wiseacre and bring along a safety razor.  Because having my back does not, under any circumstances, mean the same as shaving my back. My back hygiene is just fine thank you.  This is an important struggle and a worthy cause. The last thing I need is to face such dire odds with nothing but grim determination and some bloody little strips of toilet paper stuck to my back. So, if you don’t mind. Just concentrate on having my back.

I am counting on you and I need to know that you’re with me. That your heart is truly in it. And that you have my back.  For goodness sakes, I do hope you have my back.  So please, read this again to see if you agree with everything I’ve put forth.  Then read it just once more, this time to check for spelling errors.  Because making sure I spell stuff correctly is an integral part of having my back.  I’m sure you realize this and I’m sure you have my back.  So thank you for that.

It’s important that you understand, while I would love to say that I have your back, there’s no way that can happen anytime soon. Having your back at the same time you have my back would be counterproductive to moving this process forward.  And you certainly know that we’ll all be better off if my unique vision, complex understanding of the problem and natural leadership qualities are not relegated to the back burner while I’m diddling away the day just watching your back…or feeding your cat…or helping you move.  So I hope I can count on you having my back with no questions asked.

I know this is a lot to ask. And if, for some reason, you are unable to stand behind me and have my back, I totally understand.  However, can I still count on you for some change for the vending machine?

“The tension created by the snapping turtle confronting the fierce looking dog is dwarfed by what is obviously the deep green shadow cast by a well maintained concrete birdbath. Kudos to the gifted photographer.”

Neville Beach–Doctor of Ornithological Studies, Kebler University

“What would Andy Warhol do?  I’ll tell you what he’d do.  He would purchase a signed and numbered print of this magnificent photo to complete his impressive collection of snapping turtles coming upon snarling dogs on rural lawns.  And to make room, he would probably tear up a couple of those stiffly posed Wegmans. That’s exactly what Andy would do.”

Eponomo Douphon–Publisher WWAD Quarterly

“It’s just a good thing that Citizen Kane is not a photo. Because it could never compete with this gem. No really.”

Steve Potts–dedicated film slash photo buff

“This dramatic photo will put you on the edge of your well appointed, faux zebra, distressed beechwood, bergere styled seat. You know?  The one with the matching ottoman?”

Estelle Herkimer–Columnist, Modern Upholstery Magazine

“This is just a photograph, you say?  Yeah, right. And the Mona Lisa is just a sculpture.”

A.J. Pintell–Mailroom temp, The Louvre