I have written nearly two hundred blogs about writing and far more in my baseball blog about the Mariners. The articles about the Mariners are the same every year because there is only so much you can write about those wayward sailors. The same is true of writing. Unless of course you read JA Konrath’s blog “Newbies Guide to Publishing” who seemingly writes his blog and books simultaneously.
So I pause today to reveal who I am, my secret identity behind my e-books and blogs. It is nice to know about each other, don’t you think. I grew up in a Wonder Bread nuclear family. That deliciously soft doughy bread is responsible for my soft doughy paunch. It is impossible to find in grocery stores in this state anymore. I am thinking of tracking it down and smuggling it in from another state. I use the word ‘nuclear ‘in both senses of the word as I grew up in an age in which we were instructed in case of nuclear attack to hide under our school desk. It sounded good then.
I moved a lot in my peripatetic youth. My favorite travels were bedroom to kitchen to bathroom; the journey of life. Stops were also made in England, Sweden, Denmark-but not in Stockholm or Copenhagen-and Canada, along with assorted states west of the Mississippi. I currently live in the Pacific Northwest.
There is a cat that lives in the house I reside. It showed up here one day over a decade ago and has not aged. Not only that but it will sometimes walk onto my lap and stare at me like a lioness stares at a gazelle shortly before chomping down on lunch. I can only post pictures of her on Facebook at her request. She can sleep in 79 different positions.
I have the usual phobias; snakes, height, dentists, hospitals, flying, clowns, penguins and girls named Becky. I have never broken a bone, nor had major surgery, but nearly lost the tip of my finger by way of a butcher knife (long story, but someone set a trap in a cupboard over the sink) and nearly severed a major artery on the back of my hand while washing dishes at a friends apartment in Sweden. Severely broken dish, don’t ask. I do take medication, however, for depression. I find depression comforting. I have had it so long I would be afraid without it.
What are your interests Terry?
What is this, a dating site?
But since you asked, I love books, all kinds as long as the writing is engaging. Other exciting interests are baseball-Mariners and Dodgers; football-Seahawks in the NFL. College football-Roll Tide; Go Navy, beat Army, and Go Dawgs. NBA-I used to like the Seattle Supersonics, but David Stern, the ex-commissioner, and Clay Bennett carpetbagged the team to Oklahoma. I went to Louisiana and found a gypsy who put a curse on those two evil warlords.
What kind of work do you do?
Oh God, really? Who Cares?
But if you must know, I managed theatres, owned a bookstore, wrote film reviews for a decade, and worked for two major corporations whose names I will not reveal because they are big business, therefore economic terrorists and I was their slave. The bookstore was fun though.
Most of us have met famous people in our lives, but I will not name drop because I doubt many of you, much younger than myself, probably have never heard of Milton Berle, Michael Landon, David Jansen, Bill Bixby, James Hampton, the lovely Yvonne Craig, Pat Boone, John Agar, Robert Morris, or athletes like Rick Barry, Dizzy Dean, Jimmy Piersall, or Keith Lincoln. So I will spare you that. Nor will I tell you my cousin was an All-American football player who played in the NFL. No one likes name droppers.
I am allergic to all vegetables, so under doctors order I am only allowed to eat potato chips, ice cream, cakes, pies, cookies, pizza and sodas. I have enough preservatives in me that I am nearly mummified.
I like females of our species, having, in the summer before third grade, answered the door at my friends house where he was having a birthday and saw a girl standing there with a dimply smile, dark curly hair, a white taffeta dress, and black shoes, and I instantaneously realized for someone mysterious reason that girls now held an important part of my being, supplanting baseball. It is still a mystery, but baseball has thankfully resumed the number one slot. As a side note, the girl at that door turned out to have the same name as myself and was born in the same hospital on the same day as yours truly. And she later would receive my first kiss. It was fun for me, nothing for her. Turns out she kissed lots of boys. And often. Throughout her school years.
In my youth I grew bored listening to men at family gatherings talk about business, politics and all those boring things that kids don’t care about. So I gravitated to the females in another room who talked agouti people. It was kind of gossipy, but far more interesting. They were the storytellers and I the audience.
Now I am the storyteller and I like telling stories. And now you know more about me than you wanted and wondering why you read this far. But I thank you.
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Why do I suck
In response to an article in my Seattle Mariner blog “Balls and Strikes” about class structure at major league baseball parks a comment was made which I did not approve and thus not published was “You suck.” Naturally I would like to know why I suck, or what specifically am I sucking.
The article I wrote was that the Seattle Mariners have these in-game giveaways and though the scoreboard shows a video with spinning numbers for section and row, invariably they all fall into the lower section of high priced seats. But us poor schlemiels in the third section are always shut out. We also do not get many vendors. I went an entire game without seeing one in my section. In the lower section the gentrified are catered to while we in the third level are the poor unwashed in the class structure of major league parks.
So why did the troll leave the two word comment?
In and of itself the comment means nothing. I suck a milk shake through a straw. Was that what he meant? Or was he referring to what a male of the species does with the breast of a female of the species? I think not, but I prefer this interpretation.
Something you may not know about the word ‘suck.’ In terms of slang it means, according to “The Synonym Finder” by J.I. Rodale, to deceive, mislead, misinform, cozen, dupe, defraud, gull, hoodwink, bamboozle, hornswoggle. Is this what I was doing? I think not.
My point is that if you are an Internet troll you need to be more specific in your sucking comments. I need to know more. Saying I suck tells me nothing. I would like to know why. Were you offended I was picking on the Mariners? Did you think I was being childish? Did you think I was being serious? Did you think I was being silly?
Social media means we are to engage, discuss, talk. If he told me why I sucked his comment could have been published. But tis person failed. His comment ‘you suck’ just sucks.
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Filed under dalies, humor, Uncategorized, writers, writing
Tagged as balls and strikes, Blog, class structure, comments, internet troll, major league baseball, seattle mariners, Social media, synonym, you suck