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Various and sundry things of note

I’m bleary-eyed at best today, and contemplating the possibility of a 500 cc espresso IV drip, for reasons I’ll get to momentarily.  First, however, a few mentionable mentions:

Last week I wrote a bit about how I was dragging my feet somewhat in the procession from my first novel to the next, which was, by necessity, going to be about a different world with different characters, etc, etc.  I got some truly awesome, very supportive comments on the post, demonstrating that there more people out there than I ever would have guessed pulling for me in this whole writing business.

So I guess I do have readers out there besides just my mom and wife.  That’s pretty cool.  If I hadn’t traded my capacity to for genuine human emotion several years ago for an Arby’s Medium Roast Beef and 6 bombers of Arrogant Bastard, I might have even gotten all verklempt.

Luckily, though, there’s nothing inside of me but old hay and spiders, so we’re cool.

Seriously, thanks, everyone for the words of support.  I was totally not expecting them.  Also, please don’t take that post to mean I’m even in the same time zone as that dreaded place where I temporarily give up on Famine and slide it in to a drawer for a few years (or—gasp!—consider self-publishing it).  On that score, I defer you to that immortal words of that one navel guy.  I think it was Captain Kirk, or maybe Ramius, or, no, no, Jack Sparrow, that’s it, who mumbled around a fifth of rum, “I have not yet begun to fight!”

I’m kidding, it was John Paul Jones.  Actually, I believe Sparrow would likely say something more akin to what Val Kilmer’s Doc Holliday said in Tombstone, “I have not yet begun to defile myself.”

Anyway, movie-related rambling aside, thank you for the awesome words of support.  And don’t worry, there’s plenty of fight left in me.

Mention the Next: Last week, I got to attend one of the Coolest. Events. Evah.  My dad (previously dubbed “PuddinPa”, I think), who spent the bulk of his professional career working tirelessly as an educator, coach, and administrator at my high school, was surprised at the dedication of the school’s new softball field to find that it was, in fact, dedicated to him.  They suckered him to a game to throw out the first pitch and then, once they had him on the mound with First Pitch Ball in hand, executed the old bait-and-switch by revealing, with a showman’s flourish, a big sign emblazoned with his name.

I believe his discomfort at being the Center Of Attention was equally balanced by his Immense Gratitude for the whole thing.  It was amusing to watch.

Then he did actually throw the first pitch, which made it all the way to the catcher and even looked like a strike to me.  Of course, he’d probably say it was barely good enough for batting practice and would’ve ended up over the fence in center field, but since that’s where I expect they’ll hang said sign-with-his-name-on-it, that seems fitting anyway.

Finally, for an explanation of why today’s ramblings are full of Extra! Bonus! Ramble!, i.e., what made my brain more porous than a cartoon character trying to take a ladle of water after being shot repeatedly (wow, and parents worry about violence in media today!), I hope you enjoy this Theater of Twitter monologue.

First, at about 11 PM last night, there was this:

Which prompted:

 

And then:

But it wasn’t all fun and games and devotion to lanterns:

 

And that’s how I learned to make special requests at the coffee shop:

 

The most interesting (and painful) thing to take away from this experience is that you’d think that the power going out at night would be No Big Deal, what with most everyone either being or going to sleep.  But it turns out that it can Become Quite A Thing when puddinlings used to comforting background noise and gentle night lights either can’t get to sleep or wake up and freak the hell out because Something’s Wrong.

So, that’s how the Puddinette and I came to be entertaining visits from children pretty much every 30 minutes last night between 2:30 AM and 5 AM.

Which is what brings me to say (and someone should write this down for posterity): today, I am more grateful for coffee than beer.

Of course, I’ll probably deny I even suggested that later.

Pud’n

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2 comments on “Various and sundry things of note

  1. “I’m your huckleberry”. Sorry, couldn’t resist that. As for publishing, you could always ghost write a middle school management guide…Yes it’s probably a little better than Sauder directions. It was humorously pointed out to me by a Greek Chorus that I wouldn’t know. Clearly, I had a better end of weekend than you except for uploading David’s ball video to youtube.com That took 2 hours. For what reason, my technical mind has no clue 🙂 Luckily lots of left over party supplies with which to partake while waiting.

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  2. It’ hard for a wife and mother to have two items rolling around in her head!!! I am so proud of your “putting the pedal to the medal” and writing FAMINE; but I’m equally proud of that new softball field named after your Dad. Neither one of us saw it coming; but knowing all the years he has devoted to SHS and knowing that devotion will continue, I am just delighted they are acknowledging what I have known for lots of years — he is a truly remarkable man!! People involved with Scott were always telling me how wonderful he is; I would always just thank them politely, but my head was always thinking, “I know, I found him first!” 🙂

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