An Awkward Reunion

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Hi WordPress. It’s great to see you again. I know I’ve not seen you in awhile. How have you been? We used to be so close.

Oh, I’ve been good, thanks for asking. You are looking good. I like what you did with your hair. It looks nice. How long has it been?

Seriously? 120 weeks!!! That is 841 days since I posted last. Wow, so what have you been up too?

So…are you seeing anyone? Maybe we should text each other sometime. Catch a drink. Maybe go Tweet together at the movies. That would be fun. You know, I really had a good time when we hung out before.

No, I’ve not been seeing anyone either. Blogit tried calling me, but you know…being with her just made me feel cheap. I know…she’d sleep with anyone, the little tramp.

No, I ddin’t touch her, but I’m glad you were a little jealous. *smile*

Anyway…it was great catching up. I’ll text you. And I don’t mean it in that “guy way” where “I’ll text you” means “Don’t call me, I’ll call you.”

I’ll see you again tomorrow, ok?

Take care and its good to be back.

Really…its only been you. Wanna know a secret… You were my first.

Wright Philosophy: If You Say A Lie Long Enough, Eventually Everyone Will Believe You

Pop Quiz: In honor of Black History Month, who was the first African American Baseball player in the Major Leagues?  Answer: Jackie Robinson.  Which famous Abolitionist orator and writer taught himself to read and write after he escaped from slavery? Answer: Fredrick Douglas. Who was the first person to achieve controlled, sustained, heavier than air flight? Answer: Wilber Wright.

Ok, well that last question didn’t have anything to do with Black History Month, but that’s ok. I’m not so sure that last answer was Wright anyway.

I’m serious. Here is a list of a few things I am reasonably sure of:

  1. Neil Armstrong was the first Human Being who walked on the moon. (Assurance Factor: 100%)
  2. Julius Ceasar was assisanated by a group of conspitors on March 15, 44 B.C. (Assurance Factor 100%)
  3. Of my 3 children, it is my son who consistantly forgets to flush the toilet after he drops a duce.  (Assurance Factor: 94.5%)

Here are a few things I used to be reasonably sure of, but upon further review…not so much:

  1. JFK was killed by a conspiracy of at least 2 gunmen, one of whom was on the Grassy Knoll in Dallas. (Previous Assurance Factor: 95%. Current Assurance Factor: 22.3%)
  2. The NBA secretly conspired to keep Mark Cuban and the Dallas Mavericks from winning an NBA title by any means necessary. (Previous Assurance Factor: 89.4%. Current Assurance Factor: 0%)
  3. The Wright Brothers were the first Human Beings to achieve sustained, controlled heavier than air flight in 1903. (Previous Assurance Factor: 99.6%.  Current Assurance Factor: 33.8%)

I have been doing a little digging and have come to learn something fascinating: All of our history books might be very, very wrong. Someone else might have beat the Wright Brothers by as much as 2 years!

This is a big deal for me. This would almost be on the level as discovering that Shakespeare didn’t really write all of those plays around the turn of the seventeenth century.

First of all, everyone knows the official story in the history books: in 1903 the Wright brothers achieved heavier than air flight that lasted for a few seconds and traveled a few hundred feet. Whoopti Doo, I know, but keep in mind that a few years before, we were still trying to get off the ground in contraptions like this:

So, this was kinda a big deal.

The beautiful thing that the Wright Brothers had going for them was that one of the witnesses they asked to verify their attempt in 1903 was techno-savvy enough to haul a camera out to the beach with him. Now, this was a relatively new invention to carry around outside in the middle of winter, so kudos to the Wrights for recognizing how powerful this image would become in the psyche of the American conscious.

It’s clean. It’s crystal clear. It is visual proof. There is a human being laying on his belly on a craft that is obviously off the ground.

The Wright Brothers flew in 1903. No one can argue with that.

But they might not have been the first.

That honor possibly goes to Gustave Alvin Weisskoph. Unfortunately, that doesn’t roll off the tongue as easily as Orville and Wilber though.

Besides, Weisskoph sounds more like a sneeze.

This is probably why Gustave changed his name after he immigrated to America in the late nineteenth century and just started calling himself “Whitehead” instead.

Gustave didn’t have much money. He didn’t own a bicycle shop, or receive financing from wealthy donors. He worked in a coal mine to support his inventions and quirky engineering habits. His neighbors didn’t like him much because he kept blowing things up in his little shed in the middle of the night. But he liked to tinker around with steam engines and attach them to ship-like hulls that he envisioned would sail through the air like a ship at sea.

And in 1901, Gustave Whitehead believed he actually flew and a lot of people claim they saw him too.

Gustave didn’t name his invention anything as grand as “The Wright Flyer” or “The Spirit of St. Louis.” No, in typical German efficiency, he simply called it “Airplane No 21

Not to be confused with Airplane No 1-20 that evidently didn’t turn out so good.

Here is Gustave’s Airplane No 21.

In 1901 there were only two accepted methods for confirming an eye witness account of an event. You could hire a fancy-pants photographer to set up a camera outside and hope he snapped it at the right moment or you could drag some cheap artist with you who would just kinda sketch out what he saw. Both views were accepted in the newspapers of the day as proof and since Gustave didn’t have much money, he had to go with the cheaper Plan B.

Besides, things like “legacy” and “fame” didn’t mean as much to Gustave. He just liked to fly. And dozens of people swore to their dying day that they saw him do it…2 years before the Wright Brothers took off.

A reporter for the Bridgeport Sunday Herald testified that on August 18, 1901, almost 2 ½ years BEFORE the Wright Brothers flew in Kitty Hawk, N.C., Gustave Whitehead flew ½ a mile and included a change of direction to avoid a cluster of chestnut trees and a safe landing.

A variety of photographs still exist that have been verified as dating to 1901 that show Gustave with his “Airplane No. 21” as an aerodynamically correct monoplane that is capable of flight.

In 1901 the periodical “Scientific American” published  an illustrated article about Whitehead’s machine and in 1906-’08 a reporter published a series of articles all claiming that Whitehead had indeed flown in 1901. (Orville Wright published an article in 1945 in which he quotes this same reporter, but evidently this guy had changed his mind and supported Orville’s claim that they had flown first. So, either this guy lied between 1906-’08 when he was publishing multiple articles directly crediting Whitehead with sustained flight, or he was lying in 1945 when he backed up Orville Wright…or he was simply suffering from dementia and was just confused)

In 1937, Stella Randolph published a book called “The Lost Flight of Gustave Whitehead”, but no one really cared. What did women know of anything in 1937? Besides, some man called Walt Disney had just released a cartoon called “Snow White and the Seven Dwarves” and that was way cooler to talk about than some chick obsessed with some poor immigrant’s attempt at flight.

American’s had their hereos and “Wright” was a whole lot easier to spell. So Stella Randolph’s book went largely unnoticed.

Of an estimated 30 people who had been interviewed with sworn affidavits concerning Whitehead’s flight, 20 confirmed that they had actually seen him fly in 1901, 8 claimed that they had heard he had flown in 1901 and only 2 felt that he didn’t really fly.

What is almost as fascinating as the possibility that someone beat the Wright brothers by almost 2 ½ years is the cover-up since 1903 to keep this story quiet. The motives for this conspiracy are wrapped up in a little pride, a whole lot of greed and some good ‘ol fashioned American racism tossed in on the side.

You see, around the turn of the century there were a lot of people trying to figure out how to fly. Some had some good ideas. Most were pretty loony, but everyone knew that there would be a lot of money flying around (nice punn) if anyone could just figure it out.

Well, almost everybody. Someone forgot to tell poor Gustave, or if they did he didn’t seem to care.

However, there was one man who happened to be the Secretary of the Smithsonian Institute in 1903 that cared a great deal. Samuel Langley received about $50,000 from Congress to design an airplane, but he failed and his design crashed into the Potomac and a whole lot of the government’s money sunk to the bottom of the river.

Now, it’s not that the government is so frugile that they hate wasting money. They do that quite easily all the time, but most polititians don’t enjoy looking like fools and when a government agency becomes the laughing stock of the entire country. This becomes rather embarrassing for a lot of powerful people.

But history is not always written by the victors…just those who can get it in print first and tell the most tourists what they are looking at. So, while the Wright Brothers spent 3 years keeping quiet about their achievement waiting for approval to patent their invention (by the U.S. Patent Office…a government run agency, by the way) and Gustave Whitehead continued to shovel coal 50 hours a week, the Smithsonian seized the lull by claiming that Langley had actually flown first. In 1914, 11 years after the Wright Brothers historic flight, the Smithsonian sponsored a test of Langley’s original designed craft to prove that it could have flown. However, they modified the original design with state of the art improvements to kinda give it a boost in the air. When it flew, the Smithsonian declared it valid proof and proclaimed Langley a hero as the “Father of Flight.”

They even went on to name an Air Force Base after him.

The Wright Brothers were furious and in protest packed up their original 1903 flyer and shipped it to a museum in England. If the greatest collection of American treasures wouldn’t recognize them as the first in flight, than they couldn’t have their plane.

During this time there were numerous lawsuits flying around over who was first in flight and since the Wright Brothers had wisely spent those first precious few years after 1903 quietly waiting for patents, by the time they were granted, they were able to effectively campaign for their rights in court case after court case, receiving funds not only for their invention but also for back money that was due to them for those who infringed on their design.

Meanwhile, Gustave just kept shoveling coal. He didn’t have money for a patent or a lawyer anyway. In 1927, Gustave Whitehead died of a heart attack. He missed the crossing of the Atlantic by Charles Lindbergh by just a few weeks. However, “Aviation Mania” was sweeping the world and everybody wanted to be the “First” at something since there were so many things to be the first at. The first to fly, the first to cross the Atlantic, the first to cross the Atlantic backwards…well, maybe not that one, but everybody was doing something for the first time and Americans loved to collect trophies of our accomplishments.

The only embarrassing thing was that the Wright Flyer was still over in Jolly ‘Ol England, and that didn’t seem right to most folks.

So, there arose a large public outcry to bring the Wright Flyer home.

The only thing that politicians hate more than being embarrassed publically is when the public has an outcry and since the Smithsonian is a government agency, things were moving toward an impass.

The Smithsonian asked Orville to ask for his plane back so they could set it up in the growing aviation wing.

“Are you still claiming that Langley flew first?” Orville asked.

“Well, yes,” they replied.

“Then forget it,” was Orville’s answer.

“Please,” they begged. “Lindbergh gave us his plane!”

“No,” he said stubbornly.

Then came World War II and it wasn’t the best time to try to get a precious piece of history out of England while Hitler and the Germans were dropping bombs all over London. But when the bombs stopped falling, Americans still wanted that plane back.

Finally, the Smithsonian agreed to remove the plaque to Langley in exchange for the Wright Flyer.

Now the Wright family employed a curious tactic. They were in a position to really squeeze the Smithsonian for all kinds of concessions such as:

1) The Wright Flyer would always be displayed in a prominent location. (What history teacher would take his class to see a plane if it’s shoved in the basement somewhere next to the mop closet)

2) The Wright Flyer would always have a proper label declaring their plane was the first heavier than air machine to achieve sustained, controlled flight. (That wording was very important to the Wright Family because their whole patent was based on the control of the airplane)

And 3) If the Smithsonian EVER credited any other machine or inventor as achieving sustained, controlled flight prior to 1903, the Smithsonian would be forced to give the Wright Flyer back to the heirs of the Wright estate.

And that contract is legally binding to this day.

So, the Smithsonian took a moment to consider their options. They could refuse and suffer the wrath of a bunch of angry politicians who had to answer to a torqued off public, or they could agree to the relatively mild concessions the Wright family demanded. Really, it boiled down to a little Quid Pro Quo: You want our family plane, and we want to get the credit for flying it.

Besides, in 1948…who really wanted to hear that some German Kraut might have been the first person to fly?

Americans had their lily white heros. The names were easy to remember, so school children and teachers were happy. The Smithsonian had the Wright Flyer hanging attractivly next to The Spirit of St. Louis so the Government was happy, and the Smithsonian agreed to never ever ever admit that anyone achieved sustained, controlled flight prior to 1903 (Not even the Egyptians) so the Wright Family was happy.

And since Gustave Whitehead had died 20 years before, no one even knew about him.

Except for possibly the Wright Brother’s themselves. Never mind the testimony that exists claiming that the Wright brothers actually visited Whitehead’s shop in 1901 and 1902 and had several discussions with him. I doubt they just wanted to exchange New England clam chowder recipes. Among the witnesses were two men named Anton Pruckner, and Cecil Steeves. In a recorded interview in 1937, Steeves said he remembered a visit by the Wright’s. “They came from Ohio and under the guise of offering to help finance Whitehead’s invention, but actually received inside information about his work…after they had gone away, Mr. Whitehead turned to me and said, “Now that I have given them the secrets of my invention they will probably never do anything in the way of financing me.”

Nope, never mind that testimony.

I just find it curious: Why would the Wright brothers  find it necessary to state in a contract that the Smithsonian would never cite any credit for sustained flight to any machine or man prior to 1903?  I find it odd don’t you…unless Orville knew that there was in fact a machine that had flown a few years before his brother did.

But tourists only believe what they read on plaques, and tourists are the ones who will go home to write the history books.

What has not been examined impartially has not been well examined. Skepticism is therefore the first step toward the truth.” Dennis Diderot, philosopher (1713-1784)

‘Who’s Cheese Is It Anyway?’ A Theatrical Review

Last night was the debut (and only) show for Alexander Elementary School’s Second Grade Class’ peformance of the critically acclaimed hit, “Who Ate the Cheese?” Actually I don’t remember the name of the show. I could barely hear the dialogue because the acoustics in a gym stink and their PA system is probably older than me, but I know it had something to do with cheese. I was able to deduce this mostly because the Ms. Snoodibaker’s class was all dressed like mice and Mrs. Pearl’s class had yellow construction paper wedges on top of their heads, so I assume cheese had something to do with the plot. Beyond that, I really couldn’t tell.

I came 5 minutes early, but unfortunately there was standing room only. There are about 60 kids in the second grade at Alexander Elementary, which translates into approximately 120 parents, 240 grandparents, 180 siblings, 23 faculty and staff, 1 brand new music teacher fresh out of college and 1 elderly principal who has been tenured since Regan and probably should have retired sometime after Clinton all crowded into a gym with a seating capacity of just over 420, or so the Fire Marshall posted above the door.

My wife picked the only seat left that was along the back wall next to the tumble mats and directly behind this lady:

Seriously...I think she is going Comando

This was my view for the next 45 minutes.

Just to occupy the time, I gave my 5 year old daughter one of her “My Little Pony” dolls and was about to ask her to slip it…but my wife said I couldn’t.

Then I realized I was being held hostage. I guess not enough parents went to the last PTA meeting back in November because since the Principal had us all there and knew we were not going anywhere, she spent the first 10 minutes, “Just making a few announcements.”

I couldn’t hear them anyway. I was being distracted because the woman in front of me kept bending over to pick up her daughter’s toys. This was very disturbing to me and my daughter kept asking me what I wanted her to do with “Pinky Pie.” My wife was still glaring at me, so I told her to just play with her on the floor.

Finally, the show was ready to start. The lights did not go down or anything. The kids just started marching in. I don’t even think that the Principal was finished, but whatever it was that she was saying that no one really cared about before lost any significance whatsoever when en masse over 500 people start waving to their children.

I stood up to look over Crack Lady until I saw my son smile back at me.

The music director waved to us and gave the prologue. It wasn’t quite as good as “Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona where we lay our scene…” but it did have something to do with a Farmer, a mouse, cheese and the real meaning of friendship.

I don’t know. I didn’t really get the subtle theatrical point on that one, but the director seemed pleased with the theme.

The show started with a round of dialogue. I didn’t care because I realized right away that my son wouldn’t have a line in the whole show. Since I don’t recall helping him memorize anything, it was a fair bet that once again he was passed over for any significant speaking role. Since I had no vested interest in what was being said I had nothing better to do than to stare straight ahead…oops…I mean avert my gaze to the side.

The first song was a classic, “Farmer and the Dale,” only there were a few verses I never knew were in there. Now maybe it was because I had ‘ass’ on the brain, but all I know is the entire second grade started singing about “The Farmer takes a wife, the farmer takes a wife, hi ho the dairy-o the farmer takes a wife.”

Sounded reasonable I suppose, but I cracked a joke to my wife (seriously, no punn intended. Get your mind out of the gutter)  about the fact that it looks like the farmer is taking his wife out behind the barn for a little roll in the hay as two kids marched in front of the audience, hand in hand.

But then the song just got creepy because evidently the wife also takes the child behind the barn. By the time the child took the dog behind the barn I was about to get a warning from the Principal because it seems as though I was causing somewhat of a disturbance.

I told the Principal that I”m not the one singing a disturbing song about all the activity that goes on at this farm.

The dog takes the cat, the cat takes the mouse and by the end of the song the mouse takes the cheese and I guess that was the “Inciting Incident” for the rest of the plot.

The climax of the show involved a rap in which my son displayed his total lack of rhythm in front of the entire school. The kids next to him were showing off their bad selves but my son just kinda wiggled a little.

I called out, “Go white boy, go white boy, GO GO GO!”

Again, my wife glared at me. She glares at me a lot when I go to these things.

As the hour drew to a close the children all bowed for a final time and we were all given instructions by the Principal about what to do with our chairs.

Overall, the show “Who Cut the Cheese” was well directed by Allen Q. Dickerson and his chique construction paper motif was actually quite charming, considering the budget cuts the School Board gave to the performing arts department this past year. Evidently the Athletic Department needed new football uniforms.

I get to do this again in May when my daughter has her show with theKindergarten class.

How Long Does It Take You To Laugh?

Have you ever had one of those days where you just needed a good belly chuckle? You know the kind of laugh I’m talking about: a good knee slapping, side splitting, Sprite snorted up your nose kind of laugh? Today is that day. I firmly believe when you are having a uber-crappy day (an ‘uber’ crappy day is a run of the mill crappy day multiplied by the power of 10, by the way) the best response is to find something that makes you truly, deeply laugh.

As soon as I find something, I will post it here.

Still looking. Bare with me a sec…

Tell you what, once I find something I will post it as an UPDATE so you can see the time stamp on how long it took to make me really laugh. I’m Time Stamping this 5:00 PM CST on 2/3/2012 btw. I know because the Westminster Chime on the clock is going off as I type.

Somehow I find this exercise mildly amusing in and of itself.

Wish me luck

UPDATE #1  Ok, I cheated. I looked. I really did but the only chuckle I could get was when I stumbled on an article where a shopper at the Dollar Palace told the reporter she liked to shop there because she didn’t have to dress up like she does when she goes out to Wal-Mart.

But that wasn’t a real HA HA funny. Believe me, I will break this funk and find something really funny to post. I’ll just have to do that tomorrow. Since I can’t beat this funk with humor, I might as well beat it with Poker. So, I’m off to a game.  Never fear, I’ll find something else funny and have an UPDATE 2 tomorrow. UPDATE #1 was posted at  5:28 PM, in case you are keeping track.

Between now and then, I will leave you with this. I had to swipe it from Steven Colbert, but it’s worth a view:  Supreme Courting Season, The Colbert Report.

“Thus To All Hackers!”

Sometimes it takes a Lindbergh to make kidnapping a felony. Before 1932, snatching a sleeping child out of their bedroom was only considered a misdemeanor, you know, like J-Walking or rolling through a stop sign. Then, when Charles Lindbergh’s child was kidnapped and held for ransom, the FBI became involved and helped elevate the seriousness of this crime in the national consciousness. Now, in most states, kidnapping is a capitol offense and could be punished with the death penalty.

As it should.

What is my point? I think creating computer crashing virus’ that destroy a hard drive should be considered a crime against humanity and subject to incarceration at either Guantanamo Bay or some other super-secret Amy prison in South America.

A Hacker is sentenced to 20 years at an undisclosed army Detention Center after being convicted for writing a “Cookie Monster Virus” that crashed Lady Gaga’s computer.

Now, all I need is for someone really important person to have their computer totally crash due to some stupid virus a hacker in his underware created for some unknown reason before our nation takes this crime seriously. Personally, I think I would rather have my identity stolen and spend the next few years trying to fix my credit than have my computer get some random virus and it ends up destroying the whole hard drive. Banks will eventually believe that I didn’t take that trip to Florida and buy a Ski-Do, but when I lose my hard drive there is work I will NEVER get back.

My computer did contract a virus that fried my hard drive like a piece of chicken from KFC.  I won’t pretend that this is the reason I’ve not blogged since November. I blame that on the Holidays and a whole lot of merry making, followed up by a really bad hangover. But it did open my eyes to how life might function without a computer. Think about it, how would you react if you suddenly, and without warning, lost everything: every file, every picture, even that geeky but otherwise useless document that listed Pi to 1,000 places?  I was forced to sit in the “Internet Dark” for about 2 weeks, only being able to bum a quick fix from my parents from time to time.

Remember that South Park Episode when they ran out of Internet and Randy Marsh heard there was some out in California-Way? So he packed up his family and moved out west looking for some Internet.

"I hear there is some Internet out California-Way."

(Season 12, Episode 6 in case you have Netflix and wanna watch it)

That’s how I’ve felt for a few weeks. But, I’m back in business with a new HP laptop. Since it’s a PC it should last me a whole 2-3 years before this one crashes, but that’s not until like 2015 and we all know if the Mayans are right, the world will end this December, so I should be all set.

I just wanna make sure that if I do have to hide in a Fallout Shelter and live under ground to avoid the mutated zombies, I want a Fallout Shelter with a Wi-Fi Hotspot. Otherwise, I’ll take my chances with the flesh eating Zombies. Besides, I’ve already written a great survival guide for a Zombie Apocalypse, so I should be well prepared. Check it out here: Things You Never Knew Were Covered By Obama Care.

In other writing news, this crashed computer might have set the parenting book my wife and I have been working on back a bit. Fortunately, we did back up some of these files, but there may be others she has to rewrite. But, I’ve talked her into promoting this new book with a streamlined radio program. I’m actually excited about this so check back periodically for updates and times.

My Son Just Tied My Daughter To A Ceiling Fan

So, my wife and I are teaming up to co-author a book idea. Somehow, I got roped into writing a baby manual. Can you believe it? Me, parenting advice? Or, perhaps it’s a marriage guide for disillusioned couples struggling to keep their identity in the middle of a family. I don’t really know. I just write what my wife tells me to write. To sum up a possible tag line: Maintaining a sense of worth while raising children.

Or, to put it another way: “God, I was supposed to change the world, now all I’m changing is this dirty diaper.”

Which is currently our working title, so don’t steal it.

I always thought my first book would be some epic volume I of High Fantasy, not parenting and relationship advice from a male perspective but my wife wants me to add my own unique flare to her otherwise matronly and sensitive approach.

So here I sit, outlining 10 chapters or so. I have a rough sketch, so bare with me, but I’m thinking something like: Finding My Soul Mate With Big Knockers And Long Black/Blonde/Auburn/Red Hair, 2) You Know The Honeymoon Is Over When She Farts In Your Bed and  3) My Son Just Tied My Daughter To A Ceiling Fan.  

My wife just told me ‘no.’ Evidently those will not be the chapter headings of our book.

She said it will be something more like: 1) Finding “the one,” 2) Not so Happily Ever After” and 3) Raising Boys Vs Girls.

I am making light of this, but I am seriously excited as well. I think we will make a dynamic book that will not only be entertaining, but will have some very insightful things to say. As always, I will keep you apprised of our progress.

Check out her blog as well: Heater Graham

Shedbellyfatfast.net LOVED My Last Post!

Remember the other day when I wrote a small blog about the rumors of my demise being greatly exaggerated? As you recall, I found that out by reading through the searches that brought people to my blog. Let me find it for you…here it is: “Aaron Graham Cause Of Death

Then, I launched my NaNoWriMoABaDMamMaJaMa Month off on my own and had a few posts about how well…err…not so well I’ve been doing with my 30 day writing challenge. I posted a few updates about my progress, but I think we’d all agree the past few weeks have not been a shining example of the kind of deep intellectual discussions you faithful readers have come to know and respect from my insightful and well researched posts. Heck, as you recall I totally blew my wife’s snort scale.

Nope. These past two weeks have not been my best work by a long shot. (Although, strangely enough I think I collected 4 more followers…go figure)

But fear not. Just when I might be a little depressed with my writing over the past few weeks, I logged in this morning and decided to read some comments that were pending moderation. Never mind the fact that all of these were found in my spam folder. My ego needed some stroking and since no one has commented on my blog for awhile, I thought it would be good for a “Pick-me-up”

I was not disappointed. Here is what my faithful spam readers felt about my last article when I delved into the scientific formula of my wife’s snot scale:

That was some scholarly article…”

 “There is noticeably a bundle to know about this. I assume you made sure nice points in characteristics also.”

And my personal favorite:

That is exactly what I needed. Tnx for the post. IMHO, other posts are not so interesting. Please don’t be offended, simply try to keep quality at this level.”

Yes, evidently my post about my wife’s snort scale was EXACTLY what Tom Craudfield from Printable Nike Coupons needed this week. (And apparently all my other posts just suck)

Oh, and for your information, the person who thought my Wife’s Snort Scale was “some scholarly article” was from shedbellyfatfast.net.

No kiddin! I would not make up things about people searching Google for my obituary, nor would I tease you about this. (Oh, I just misspelled obituary. So I used Google to help me spell it right and I learned something new. According to the “Urban Dictunary” an “Obitchuary” is a term used to describe a location where the residents will harm a prostitute per a pimp’s request. A ghetto pimp might use it as a noun, as in “Yo, bi#ch, do that again and I’ll send yo’ fat a$$ to the obitchuary!” I suppose this is like a prostitute’s “Time Out Chair.”  Wow…learn something new everyday when you misspell words and search Google for the correct meaning.

And yes…I did originally spell obituary “Hood Style”

But I digress.

As I was saying, those comments so made my day!

Speaking of making my day, I was approached by a friend of mine who asked me if I would be willing to review a book from a friend of hers. Since the ebook is fantasy (and since I know a thing or two about fantasy such as old men in grey beards make great wizards and the little forgotten race of Halflings usually win in the end) she thought I would be a great choice.

I was just flattered that my friend, who is a professional author, remembered my name.

In any event, I have agreed and I look forward to reading it and reviewing it for you here…sometime in the near future.

P.S. I can’t help but think of the final scene in Fan Boys when the Star Wars fans go through 1.5 hours of twists and turns to illegally steal a copy of Episode I so they can see it BEFORE it is released because they otherwise had no life to speak of. The last line of the movie is a panoramic shot of a crowded theatre of excited movie-goers dressed up in various costumes as the lights dim and the Lucusfilms fanfare begins. The crowd goes wild and one of the characters say: “What if the movie sucks?”

BLACKOUT

I donno…you connect the dots. I’m just sayin…

Great Movie For Star Wars Geeks