Stanley McFarland’s Top Ten

So fellow Go Figure Reads writer, Stanley McFarland sees I’m doing lists of ten and he mentions that he has one himself in this month’s edition of Bethlehem Writers Roundtable.link Stanley’s not exactly a barrel of laughs, but I figure free material for the blog is free material for the blog. If you like this kind of serious stuff, you might want to check out his story, Sammy and May in the same issue.

Sounds That Make Me Smile

by Stanley W. McFarland

1)  A baby’s laugh.  You see a creature so completely innocent and awe-inspiring – then she pours out wisdom she’ll never top in her life.  Was I ever so wise?

2)  A train whistle.  A doorway to imagination – a train can lead to anywhere, from a grisly battle to an animated wonderland.

3)  Rain on the roof.  Do I smile because there is so great a sea of water above me – or because the roof keeps me dry?

4)  The whirring of an automatic can opener.  I think of all the cats I’ve known – poised, wishing, dreaming of that sound.

5)  A bat hitting a baseball.  Do I love baseball for the sights, smells, and sounds – or the game?  Which came first…

6)  Playing cards clacking in the spokes of a bike.  You almost never hear this anymore.  As a child it made me wish I was on a motorcycle.  As an adult it makes me wish I was a child.

7)  Opening theme music from the 1996 animated version of The Tick.  Okay, that might just be me.

8)  Dixieland Jazz.  Satchmo – I miss you dearly.

9)  Crickets, peepers, bullfrogs, an owl calling to its mate.  The quiet of the night cleans the noise from the world and leaves the beauty.

10) The heartbeat of the one I love – my head resting on her chest.  The rest of the world grows dim.

Sometimes people ask me why I can’t be more like Stanley.

 To be honest, Stan kinda reminds me of this guy.

I’ll admit – he’s more sensitive than I am, even poetic, but I can write sensitive. I even write poetry! On Monday, I’ll post some of my poetry – really good sensitive crap. You’ll like it!

Just Plain Stupid Christmas Story

The last two posts on Just Plain Stupid were parts One and Two of Will Wright’s story, Pickle’s Christmas Wonder as it appears in the Bethlehem Writers Group award-winning anthology, A Christmas Sampler. link

Nothing against Will, but it was so sweet it made my teeth hurt.

If you think Christmas is a time of soft twinkling lights, teddy-bears, kittens, and little puppies that never piddle on your just-washed laundry, then Pickle’s Christmas Wonder is a story for you.

For the rest of us – the kind that celebrates the holidays by twining a bit of mistletoe around our middle fingers when we salute people who steal the last parking space at the mall – in other words, the kind of good people who read this blog, a different kind of story is in order.

Elfie the Elf

by Headley Hauser

Generally, elves would rather have a reputation than be relegated to the obscurity of anonymous elfhood. Elfie however, did not appreciate the reputation he, through his family, had earned.

Elfie was the son and grandson of older Elfies. His mother was named Elfine. Even his little brother was named Elfie.

Elfie and his family were known as the elves without imagination.

Elfie toiled in Santa’s workshop making hobby horses and toy boats.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It didn’t matter that very few children wanted hobby horses or toy boats any more. Most of the other elves were making tablets, smart phones, and gaming systems. But in spite of his best intentions, whenever Elfie picked up his hammer to make a toy, it ended up as a hobby horse or a toy boat.

“I think we have all we need of those,” said Grufflebunt, the elvin line boss. “Try something a little different.”

“Like what?” asked Elfie.

“I won’t ask too much of you, knowing your family reputation. How about a Jack-in-the-box?”

“Oh,” said Elfie, looking uncertain.

“Surely you can make a Jack-in-the-box!”

“Um,” said Elfie.

Grufflebunt gruffled at Elfie - a skill which qualified him for management. “Just don’t make another hobby horse! We have too many hobby horses.”

“Right,” said Elfie. He made a toy boat.

Later at dinner, when he, his mother, Elfine, his father Elfie, and his little brother, Elfie were eating meatballs and mash potatoes as they had for every dinner Elfie could remember, Elfie surprised his family by saying something other than, “pass the salt, please.”

“We’re elves,” said Elfie.

Elfie the father, and Elfine the mother looked surprised and concerned by Elfie’s statement. Elfie the little brother didn’t pay attention to anything other than his meatballs and mashed potatoes.

“I believe you’re right,” said Elfie the father after a particularly awkward pause.

“Elves should be creative, “said Elfie. “Elves should have imagination. I want to be a creative elf with imagination.”

“Hum,” said Elfie the father.

That was the end of the discussion for the rest of dinner as Elfie and his family finished consuming their meatballs and mash potatoes.

It was hours later when Elfine looked up from her crossword puzzle. Her crossword puzzle consisted of two words. One across was a four letter word for “precipitation common in the North Pole.” One down was a five letter word for “famous resident of the North Pole.” She’d been working on it for some time.

“Elfie,” said Elfine the mother.

“Yes,” said Elfie the father. “Yes,” said Elfie the older son. “Yes,” said Elfie the younger son.

Not sure what to say, Elfine pointed at Elfie the older son (who as you may recall is the title character of this story.) “I think you’re right, Elfie,” said Elfine the mother. “I think you should be creative and have… that other thing you think you should have. I believe in you, Son. I know if you put your mind to it, you can… do that.”

“Thanks, Mom,” said Elfie, and encouraged by his mother’s faith in him, Elfie determined to be creative and to have imagination. He determined to spend every free moment to generate creativity and imagination. He was sure he could do it if he tried!

That was fifteen years ago. So far – just a lot of toy boats and hobby horses.

What? You expected an imaginative solution to Elfie’s problem? If I had a useful imagination, I’d be raking it in writing self elf books.  Here's one of those annoying elf on shelf vids.  Merry Merry.

BWG Interview

So Betty Wryte-Goode interviewed me for her column on Bethlehem Writers Roundtable. Of course she misquoted me. She might have been awestruck like these folk from Life of Brian.

Here’s what I remember from the interview.

BWG: Tell me about Humor.

Headley: Humor’s different than writing mystery, sci fi, or road signs. The rule of humor is that it has no rules. Humor thrives on almost out-worn taboos, and twisted thinking. If you think too straight, no web site will screw you up enough to be funny.

BWG: Then how does a humor writer prepare? Isn’t there anything online that will help you? How about Cracked?

Headley: Not screwy enough.

BWG: There’s George Takei’s I’m not right in the head.com. Is it helpful?

Headley: These sites are great if you’re looking to be entertained, but I found out the hard way that stealing other people’s stuff is usually not a good idea.

BWG: Oh dear! Is there nothing online that helps you prepare?

Headley: Sure, there’s stuff. The news is always good. Some humor writers go straight to the off-beat news sites like…

(alright, I drew a blank here,)

but I think it’s better to go for the straight stuff. Well, there really isn’t any straight stuff anymore, but the sources that are supposed to give you the straight stuff like Reuter’s or UPI. If you’re going for processed news, you should definitely choose one from column A and one from column B. If you go to MSNBC, or CNN, you should also go to The Blaze or Fox News. You can’t get too political – well, you can, ‘cause there are no rules, but it’s a hard row to hoe if you’re trying to make someone laugh, and convert them to your cause. How many funny Jehovah’s Witnesses have you met?

BWG: Two.

Headley: Really? Do you remember any of their shtick? I knew there was something about that 144,000 thing that had potential.

BWG: I’m sorry, I don’t remember, but stealing from them is “not usually a good idea,” right?

Headley: Sometimes I make exceptions.

BWG: This interview is supposed to be about helping other writers, remember?

Headley: Okay, as long as you promote my book. You’re going to promote my book, right?

BWG: At the end. So once you have the news, what do you do?

Headley: Think like a dog.

BWG: Pardon me?

Headley: It doesn’t have to be a dog. You can think like a cat, canary, giant squid – any creature that comes into contact with humans. The giant squid probably isn’t so good, ‘cause all it would be thinking is, ‘humans in a can – are they tasty? Do they go well with a kelp garnish?’ There’s not really a lot of range in thinking like a giant squid.

  Cats are better.

BWG: Explain, please.

Headley: Animals are funny. If you don’t believe me, check your Facebook page and count how many posts you see of cats and dogs doing funny things, or giving funny looks. Animals are funny because they think better than we do. Most of what they think makes sense. That’s pretty twisted thinking to most humans ‘cause most of what we do is stupid. We puzzle and amuse animals and they return the favor. You want to make something funny, think like an animal.

BWG: Perhaps you might give us an example.

Headley: Think of any old story like Jack and the Bean Stock. Now think of it from the perspective of the golden goose, or the cow that Jack sells for the beans. You straighten out the story when you think like an animal, which means it sounds all twisted to humans.

BWG: But most of your work that I’ve read is from a human point of view.

Headley: That’s the final twist. Put that animal thought into a human brain. You want to break the ice during stand up? Try licking your arm and batting the back of your ears with the saliva. 

The added benefit is then you don’t have wash behind your ears later.

BWG: Oh… Well, thank you Headley Hauser for all these wonderful ideas.

Headley: Don’t forget the book plug!

Of course she got this blog plug wrong, but at least she (in an understated way) did plug my book… so, (sigh) thanks, Betty… I guess.

Basketball, BWG, but no Little Debbie Twinkie

It’s the NCAA tournament time and though I really don’t care, I’ll look for anything to exploit. Of course writing a blog is much easier if I have something already written that I can, “repurpose” here. I search through the archives to see if I’ve ever written something about the tournament.

I have!

I’m very excited – mostly because I’m lazy, and who wants to use up all those hard-earned junk-food fueled calories in coming up with something new. I prepare to cut and paste the article, A Spouse’s Guide to March Madness.

“Nope,” say the beneficent SOBs at Go Figure Reads dot com (gofigurereads.com)

“What-a-ya-mean, No?” I ask, both miffed and pleased that I got a chance to use that Brooklyn accent obligatory whenever you say the phrase ‘what-a-ya-mean’ but entirely inappropriate otherwise (except in Brooklyn by Brooklyners… Brooklynites?...Brooklyafers… dose guys.)

“It’s taken,” say the Go Figure Reads muckety-mucks (also an appropriate word to use a Brooklyn accent with… also appropriate with which to use a Brooklyn accent? Who made these stupid grammatical rules about prepositions, anyway?)

Was I saying something? Oh yeah, they tell me that A Spouse’s Guide to March Madness is taken. “You sold it?” I asked with my hand out in an expectant manner.

Instead of money, I get a smug, negative, and non-negotiable shake of the head. “It will appear in an anthology from BWG, Once Around the Sun.”

BWG – Bethlehem Writer’s Group.

http://bethlehemwritersgroup.com/

It’s a group of the most hateful type of people in the world – people who write better than I do. One of their leaders must have owed someone at Go Figure Reads a favor, and they included my essay, Christmas Single Holiday in their Christmas anthology, A Christmas Sampler, a few years ago.

“Sampler won an award, and it’s your best selling book,” the muckety-muck tells me. “Having A Spouse’s Guide to March Madness in Once Around will be great exposure.”

“You mean good exposure for Go Figure Reads!” I snap back in a far less clever or even biting way than I intended. I should have made some comment on what anatomically he liked exposing, and to who, but you never think of such comments until afterwards.

Life is so unfair.

The muckety-muck just smiles, and I get nothing – as in, no money in my hand, and no article to flesh out this blog post.

That’s when I decided to go commercial. The blog’s too new to sell any advertising, but I figured I could seed the… (what do you seed, anyway – the field? the waters? What is that supposed to mean? ) with a little promotional promotion – a demo for all those deep pocket types that will happily fill my hand with cash, and my cupboards with junk food.

Today’s post is brought to you by:

Little Debbie makes great snack cakes that taste consistently good because in addition to the unpronounceable stuff, they are made out of mostly sugar and fat – mmmmmm – good! There’s nothing like that teeth-stinging feeling of sugar crystals bonding to your enamel when you bite into a Little Debbie cake. You can eat three, or sometimes even four before you start to feel sick to your stomach!

Try this trick – eat a box of Little Debbie oatmeal cakes right before you go in to have your blood tested. It’s a great way to con a health clinic out of free insulin, or maybe even a heart bypass!

And you’re supporting America when you buy Little Debbie. I don’t know where they’re made, but even if they’re made North Korea, Iran, or… France, you can be sure that Little Debbie is sending campaign money to senators and congress-people in order to keep their darling baked and processed sugary fat balls on the market.

Surely, at this point in my presentation, the fine folks at McKee Foods are pricking up their collective ears. “This is REAL marketing!” says Little Debbie, now 62. (She’s looking svelte after losing 125 pounds thanks largely to a leg amputation due to gangrene during her last diabetic coma.)

That’s right, Little Debbie, and I’m just getting started! Send me your sweet and fat advertising money and I’ll do a little work (or get others to do work if they’re cheap) to help you produce your own webcast, much like Headley and the Rug (and Cral) that had such a wonderful run on public access TV in the summer of 2002. I’ll even ask the stars of Headley and the Rug (that I haven’t borrowed money from) to be celebrity guests on your show - The Little Deb Web!

Look – I’ve even written you a theme song! (with apologies to Leslie Bricusse, Anthony Newley, Willie Wonka, and the ghost of Sammy Davis Jr.)

The Little Deb Web

 

Who can make your fat rise?
Like Winnie of the Poo
As if you swallowed Tigger, long with Kanga and her Roo?

The Little Deb – In her Little Deb Web
In the Little Deb Web your triglycerides go wild
And then your brain becomes goo


Who can make your glucose
Replace most of your blood
Till your red cells and your white cells form a candy cane flood?
The Little Deb – In her Little Deb Web
In the Little Deb Web you won’t find no fruits and veggies
She don’t believe in that crud.


The Little Deb makes all those tiny cakes

From ingredients obscurious
Reading them you would be curious
(If they) hadn’t rendered you delirious.

(rinse and repeat)

On the first show, Little Debbie could talk about her acquisition of Drake’s Cakes, the makers of Devil Dogs – my FAVORITE snack food! (after Pop Tarts, and Doritos… and whatever those free mints are they leave on the counter at the Lighthouse Diner… and maybe some other stuff I can’t remember right now.)

But why just the Drakes brand? Why not all Hostess snack cakes?

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/01/30/twinkies-deal-hostess-bidder_n_2586715.html

I did some research and it seems like the leading suitor for Twinkies et al is the same company that makes Pabst Beer. PBR and Twinkies – sounds like a recipe for a coma right there. Do we want our fellow junk-food obsessed Americans pre-mortally embalmed by this dangerous combination?

I say NO! (largely because I’m hoping for money from McKee Foods, but if anyone else offers to pay me, I’m flexible on this point.) Little Debbie is the obvious lair from which to raise the Twinkie Frankenstein from the depths of bankrupt oblivion.

Rise! Rise!

How can Little Deb Bake

All those cakes from Drake

A feat that’s hardly rinky-dinky?

She barely even lifts her pinky

(spoken) Hey Hostess!

She’s the girl to bring back Twinkie!

That oughta bring the money rolling in. I sure hope Little Debbie doesn’t pay me in Cosmic Brownies – I don’t need the flashbacks.

Oh, and my pick for the tournament? Go with the Great Danes. They have a high number next to their name (15) which must mean they are really strong, and they’re facing some team named Duke in the first round.

Duke kind of sounds like a name for a Great Dane.