![The Depower Plague of ot '10]()
by Richard Timothy | Jun 9, 2010 | I Just Don't Get It, I Think There's a Point, It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, Public Service Announcement
I may have been mostly joking when I said there was a conspiracy going on when I had two smoke detectors go lame on the same night doubling their efforts to keep me awake all night due to their battery supplies running a bit low… and by mostly joking, I mean completely. That being said, let’s take a look at what happened to me today.
I was a standard work morning. I’m not sure why, but if I have nothing motivating me to get up and go to work, I’ll either get up rather early, or around noon, depending on what happened the night before. But on a typical work day, it’s pretty average and consistent for me to wake up two hours before work, look at the clock to make sure I have two hours to go until I need to be at work, and then I slap the snooze button with the fervor of one who is a trifle annoyed that a little inanimate object had the audacity to work properly and wake me up when I asked it to. Stupid alarm clocks anyway. Then for the next hour I continue to have a losing battle with the snooze button.
After about an hour of this, I reach a coherent level of self realization and admit that I have lost that battle and get up for the day. This gives me 15 to 20 minutes to shower, and 10 to 15 minutes to get dressed and out the door. Then I begin the 25 minute drive to work. This morning was precision as far as that standard goes. It was during the drive to work that I noticed my car was a little thirsty and that I could also use a little liquid snack to count as today’s breakfast as well. I mean it did seem like a good idea at the time. I pulled in to a gas station, filled up the car and then went inside to get a spicy V8 and headed outside to get back on my way to work.
I jumped in the car, pushed in the clutch, and turned the key, and was greeted by … ________ (click). There was nothing, no sound, no lights came on, no radio, no AC, nothing, except a very soft click, which after two more turns of the key fell silent too. My battery was not just drained it was dead, kaput… no more. I would have looked into the trunk to see if I had jumper cables, but I had no power to open the trunk. I did learn that I only have an ignition key which is not the trunk as well. There is, indeed, a difference. So, see I did learn something new today!
Still, how does a battery go from a quick and easy start up first thing in the morning and no issues what so ever getting 10 miles from my house to a gas station, to no charge at all simply by turning it off for about 5 minutes? It was just sitting there with zero power being drained from it and then bam! Nothing! Dead battery! So I did what anyone in my position would do, no I didn’t ask a stranger for help, I’m a man, we’re genetically wired to only ask for assistance from a stranger when no other options are left. This is why it’s almost impossible for us to ask for directions… it’s not our fault. We are born that way. Instead I called my office mate to see if he had cables and a little free time for head down the street and help me out.
Now had Angela been home, yes, I would have called her first, but she was out of town that morning and wouldn’t be back until that afternoon. And because work was only about 20 blocks away, it wasn’t too far of a drive. Sorya (pronounced Soy-ya) showed up about ten minutes later. As we attached the jumper cable to his car batter and then mine, he thanked me for getting him out of the office for a little while, and I, in return, thanked him for being willing to get out of the office for a little while. Ten minutes later I hopped in my car and turned the key. The car stuttered and then started up. Success was ours! We unhooked the cables and got ready to head to work when, in an act of sheer genius on my part, I turned on the AC. My car went from varoom-putt-putt-putt to puwahhh… ah… and all was quiet again.
I tried to roll down my window to yell at Sorya not to leave yet and quickly realized the flaw in this attempt. So I jumped out of the car and flagged Sorya to head back over. I explained the AC oopsy and he told me that the only way I was going to make it to work by driving myself there was by getting a new battery first. Enter phase two of this morning’s adventure. Actually it wasn’t all that complicated, just cash and time consuming. Once we got the new battery, we went to Sorya’s parent’s house to borrow some tools. Fortunately their house was just down the street from the gas station I was at.
Once the battery was installed Sorya headed back to drop off the tools and I headed back to the auto store to give them the dead battery so I could get $12 back, which I used some of to get a little lunch on the way to work. It was during the last few blocks of getting to work that I realized, “Wait just a minute!” This exact situation happened to Angela’s car about a month ago. She parked outside a department store, when in for about ten minutes and came back out and walla, dead battery. Her car refused to take a charge any kind of charge and resulted in a whole new battery being purchased and installed for her car as well. “Hmm?”
I called and told Angela about the whole thing, and suggested that we stop parking both cars in the garage together. My theory is that her car was apparently giving my car some suggestions for ways to get some additional attention and some new parts… gossipy little things. It also got me wondering about my joke about the conspiracy with the two dead batteries. That makes three dead batteries in three days. It’s like some black plague that is beginning, except this time it only kills batteries instead of humans. Although, if the plague does manage to kill the infernal drumming rabbit, I really can’t see how the end would not justify the means.
At this point the plague seems isolated to just me and battery operated devices that I own. However, if it does start spreading I’ll be sure to let you know. There is good news though. Apparently purchasing new batteries and replacing them with the dead ones does seem to correct and negate the powerless effects of battery operated devices. If this does kill the drummer bunny, I wonder where I go on-line to fill out a Nobel Prize application. I think this whole conspiracy just might give me the push I need this year. Plus, I’ll be sure to verbally acknowledge everyone that comments on this Smirk in my acceptance speech.
So, anyone else experiencing these reoccurring battery power shortages?
Image Source:
Google Images, key words: driving to work, hitting snooze, starting car, installing car battery, and energizer bunny skeleton.
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by Richard Timothy | Jun 7, 2010 | Horribly Horrible, I Do Suggest, I Think There's a Point, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, Public Service Announcement
I was going share one of my new Vegas trip inspired Smirks today, but something happened last night after getting home that I feel a touch compelled to expand on. Some might call it a coincidence, but personally it seemed all too diabolical to be a mere coincidence. Once home we unloaded the car, and went through the mail, and turned on the AC, finally, because it was warmer inside the house than it was outside. Now considering we didn’t turn on the AC until June, I that as a rather impressive accomplishment. Angela and I even congratulated each other on that very fact.
As we waited for the air to begin flowing throughout the house I spent some time at the computer doing a little rereading and finally checking my e-mail for the first time that week. Eventually I went down stairs to see what Angela was up to, and to my complete lack of surprise she was sitting in front of the television working on her laptop, waiting for one of her Shirley Temple DVDs to start.
I did my best keep her company, but with the movie not half over and the clock ticking at me that it was already thirty minutes past midnight, I kissed goodnight and headed to bed, or so I thought. The long drive had worn me out so falling asleep was really not that difficult of a task. As for staying asleep, well that’s where the diabolical nature of the evening began.
I remember Angela climbing into bed. I had no idea what time it was, but for some reason having your significant other climb into bed while you’ve been sleeping is usually one of those things people remember. It’s like when the dishes start to rattle in the cupboard and you eventually think to yourself, “Oh hey! An earthquake!” except it’s not quite as subtle as that. It was shortly after I got repositioned that I heard a faint noise what sounded like a single and very direct bird chirp. It was too dark to be the demon wake-up call bird, so I let it go with a small sigh and tried to get myself to reboot back into an REM state of slumber. All of a sudden I heard it again. Another chirp made its way into my brain and destroyed any residual sleepy time thoughts I might have been having. My mind was now full of with a slew of dirty words that were probably incomprehensible to anyone listening due my knack for sleepily mumbling profanity.
As I got out of bed, Angela informed me that the smoke detector in the television room needed to have its battery replaced. Yes, the chirping was the smoke detector doing its best to annoy its master to the brink of either bludgeoning the device into silence or, through repetition, encouraging its owner to replace the batteries. Problem was, there were no 9-volt batteries in the house and 2:15 AM going out to get batteries was nowhere on my to-do list. Kindly, Angela had removed the detector from the ceiling and placed it in my office and covered with a few blankets to muffle the sound. This helped some, but the battery was still inside so the repetitious chirping had no intention on stopping any time soon.
I went into my office, and found the blanketed violator of dream time euphoria and with just a hint of vindictiveness I opened that round plastic disk of intended life saving functionality and gutted that little bastard, removing its life giving battery. Then I kept pressing the test button until there was no juice left. I had squeezed the life out of it, and I felt rather justified by that.
As I walked out of my office in a triumphant stagger of someone who really needed their nap after a long hard battle I heard a little chirp. “What the…, piece of sh…, rat bas…, sonofabi…, damn it!” was about all I could muster as I turned around and walked back into my office. Had there been any implements of light to medium destruction close by I would have swung first and asked questions later. So as I stood there, holding the detector in one hand and the batter in the other I heard the chirp again… there was another one out there that had decided that it too needed changing. Either that or it was smoke detector mating season in my house and two of these devices decided that they were in season and it was time to begin their mating calls.
I began begrudgingly exploring the house. Three chirps later I discovered the culprit was right next the bedroom in Angela’s office. Fortunately I was tall enough that was able to just stand on the floor and twist, pull, unplug and depower that little monster. Had I been required to use a chair to climb up to remove that thing, I’m pretty sure one if not both of us would have died. Once I got the battery out, there was one short moment of satisfaction where, as I pushed the tester button, the final chirp started strong, but as the power drained the chirp muttered and sputtered in to dead silence.
Yes, TWO smoke detectors decided to remind me that it was time to change their batteries at 2AM on a Monday night after getting back from Vegas. Yeah, so if I ever meet Loki I’m going to have him castrated, you know, for fun. The thing is this is the third time that’s happened. I wouldn’t care if they started chirping away once I got home. I’d gladly go to the store and gotten them some 9-volt feed to shut them up for another 6 months, but seriously 2 AM on three different occasions? Screw you smoke detectors… screw you.
I did have a thought as a stumbled back into bed. Smoke detectors need a snooze button. You can push it in instance that the battery starts to run low and beep to remind you of this, but it just so happens to be 2 or 3 in the morning. All you do is push the snooze button and the detector will shut up for about 10 hours. That way you can go back to sleep get a full night’s sleep and then when you get home from work the snooze will have worn off and the detector will be chirping away reminding you to replace the batteries right then instead of two hours after to go to bed.
It was baffling to me that there were actually two culprits taking part in the last night’s smoke detector incident. I mean maybe the house was upset that we had left for the week without telling it where we were going. I really have no idea. It just seems to me that there was some sort of meddling meddler that would have set up that type of dual reaction at roughly the same time of night. I know! I’ll bet it was that bird that kept attacking the bedroom window for all those weeks. It must have finally gotten into the house and set up the whole thing. Now I really hate that bird.
Well I suppose if the bird comes back in the next day or two to gloat then I’ll know who was responsible, otherwise it’s off the hook. On a side note, it hasn’t been around in almost a month so I’m pretty sure it’s finally moved on.
The incident was over fairly quick, but by all means, trust me on this and have some backup 9-volts in your home, just in case. Even if you are of a pleasant disposition, chirping smoke detectors in the middle of the night does cause one to lose that disposition in a hurry. I guess the only thing left to add is… note to self: pick up a two packs of 9-volt batteries on the way home tonight.
Any of you have your own smoke detector stories? Do share.
Image Source:
Google Images, key words: smoke detector, bed head, printer smash, snooze button, and pack of 9-volt.
by Richard Timothy | May 25, 2010 | Gratefully Grateful, I Do Suggest, I Think There's a Point, Lightbulbs and Soapboxes, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, Public Service Announcement, Reviewed and Recommended
I remembered my towel today, and I didn’t panic once. Plus, I do believe I understand the psyche of Linus much better now as well. I did notice that there were a number of people at work today that gave me a noticeable glance of confused inquiry when I walked into the office with a towel draped over my satchel. The nice thing about towel accompaniment is that when you enter a situation where people are in the midst of panic you know you are going to be just fine, and you know why? Because you remembered your towel.
I figure this is the reason why these people only hurriedly glance in my direction as opposed to deliberate staring, or conversing with me as to why I had a towel. I would dare venture to say that the only people smiling at me were people who had also come to work today with a towel, but I was the only towel wielding one in the place. So venturing to say that would do no good. I did explain to a few friends in upper management my towel toting ensemble was a result of it being Towel Day, but this really didn’t help the confusion. So I gave them the history of this panic free day of remembrance.
Towel day first started in 2001, just two weeks after the sudden and premature death of author Douglas Adams. And since its incarnation, on every 25th of May for the past nine years, fans of Douglas display their love and appreciation of both the author and his works by toweling around for the day with a towel.
For those of you not familiar with the work of Douglas and therefore are a bit lost in regards to the towel homage being giving, here is my public service for the day. Here is the origin of the greatness of the towel, found in Chapter 3 of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.
“A towel, it says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have. Partly it has great practical value. You can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapors; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a miniraft down the slow heavy River Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (such a mind-bogglingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can’t see it, it can’t see you); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough.
More importantly, a towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a strag (strag: non-hitch hiker) discovers that a hitch hiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, face flannel, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the strag will then happily lend the hitch hiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitch hiker might accidentally have “lost”. What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still knows where his towel is is clearly a man to be reckoned with.”
— Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
Douglas captured my creative appreciation when I first introduced to him by my brother Dave, who gave me a copy of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy for my 16th birthday. It was groovy enough that upon turning 16, I was legal to drive a car without supervisor, but to top it off I had a guide book, which even though it never helped me get a date, at least it reassured me that I would never be as depressed and Marvin, and encouraged me to always know where my towel was.
At 16 “The Guide” was a novelty and a source of a good laugh, but I never really let myself marinade in its Douglasian wit. It was a good read and a recommendation that I would give to others, but I never sought for more. My true appreciation for Douglas didn’t develop until he was, well, post Douglas and I read The Salmon of Doubt for the first time. There was something about the person Douglas that others wrote about that captured my true appreciation for the writer Douglas. The short articles that filled the first half of Salmon of The Doubt kept me laughing out at his wit, wordplay, and perspective on life that makes the loss of Douglas that much more reminiscent of Vogon poetry.
Since it is Towel Day and I am going to share a few of my Douglas related tokens I received this year, both from one of my new Facebook friends John Palfrey. The first is a nugget of Douglas trivia. Apparently, according to the book Pigs Might Fly by Mark Blake, The Inside Story of Pink Floyd, David Gilmour and Douglas Adams were best mates… I had no idea. So to those of you that didn’t know, you’re welcome (thanks John), and if you happen to be one of those that did know, you have all earned yourself the brown Arts & Literature Trivial Pursuit triangle. Well done and roll again.
The other thank you to John is for sending me the photo he took of Douglas’ headstone a few years back. Yes, that is a toy dolphin setting on top of it. There are some sayings that seem to find their perfect place in time and space. Creating a type of literary immortality where, as long as there are people who read, these phrases will live on. Some have been tried by time and translation, and are here for the long count. Phrases like, “And it came to pass”, “To be or not to be”, and “When in Rome.”
Then there are some sayings that are so poignant that even in their own time they catch a people’s minds and hearts and will not go gently into that good night. These phrases include “I have a dream”, “We have nothing to fear but fear itself”, and, of course, “So long and thanks for all the fish.” There are words that tie humanity together. Phrases that inspire in us, give us joy, strengthen our resolve, fill us with passion, bring us together in unity, and fill us with laughter. Douglas always had a gift at the latter of those.
Apart from all the unsure and panic stricken glances that today held, I did have, what I believe alcoholics refer to as a moment of clarity, which was this… regardless how you feel about Douglas or his canon of Hitchhiking tales, there is one irrevocable truth that encompasses today… As long as we live in a world where there are towels, we will have a world that remembers Douglas Adams.
Did any of you remember your towel today?
Image Source: John Palfrey and Google Images, key words: Towel Day, Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, and The Salmon of Doubt.
![The Depower Plague of ot '10]()
by Richard Timothy | May 5, 2010 | Gratefully Grateful, I Think There's a Point, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, Public Service Announcement, Reviewed and Recommended, Utahism
I am a bit plagued at the moment, and have been since Sunday evening. No, it is not because I have killed and eaten that damn bird that yes, still flurries against my bedroom window every morning. I will say, at least after a few weeks it’s finally starting to wear down. It now only attacks the window once every 20 to 30 minutes instead of the repetitious attacks that it was so fond of when I first decided that the window was a worthy adversary.
As for the plague, it’s not your traditional “I’m not dead yet” kind of plague. It is however a plague that I imagine everyone has suffered from more than once throughout their life. I’ve honestly lost track of how many times I’ve had it myself. This time is a little more aquatic in theme. I’ve been thinking in a rather repetitious way that I’d like to be… under the sea, spending some time in the shade of an octopus’s garden. Yes, I’ve acquired the infamous “song stuck in my head” plague. And this time around I’m stuck regurgitating an underwater tune that a quartet from Liverpool first sang about back in 1969. I think blaming my friend Kyle for this might be feasible. He’s the one that got me a ticket to the play that I heard the song at. Along with the blame I suppose I also need to thank him, because it was a really good show.
One of the theatre companies in Salt Lake is called SLAC, Salt Lake Acting Company, who just so happens to be turning 40 this next year… well done there. I usually make it to one show a year, and this year I even though I’m planning on going to their next show, I really had no plans on seeing the one I went to on Sunday. The play was called Charm. It’s a new play from a now local playwright named Kathleen Cahill. I believe she’s been in Utah for around three years now. The performance was even a World Premiere. Ohhh I know, sounds impressive doesn’t it? I think it just means that SLAC was the first place on this planet to officially perform the play. It is pretty cool to be able to have that as a snobbish theatre conversation piece. It’s like being that person that saw U2 perform in a pub in front of 25 people and purchased one of their demo cassettes because they thought they just might go somewhere. Or in short, this is one of my “I knew them before they were famous” stories.
One of those truly great moments in life is when you go to see a performance while in a state of ignorance. I had no idea what the play was about and I had no idea what to expect, and the show consistently exceeded any expectations I could have put on it had I known what to expect. I mean when you have no expectations for a show and then leave the show disappointed or unmoved, that is a tragedy. But for this performance, I walked out of the show jovial and assured in my belief that the world is a brilliant place. It made my good day a great day.
The show was, as the program put it, “Magical, surreal and transcendentally goofy.” It was a mostly satirical look at the life of one Margaret Fuller. She was a free spirit that lived in the 1800’s (1810 to 1850). She was very well educated and had managed to accomplish a few firsts in her day. Here are a few things I think are worth knowing about Margaret:
She was the first full time book reviewer in journalism.
- She was a supporter of woman’s rights, woman’s education and the right to employment.
- She also encouraged prison reform and the emancipation of slaves in the US.
- She became the first woman allowed to use the Harvard College library.
- She became the New York Tribune’s first female correspondent covering the Italian revolution.
- Nathaniel Hawthorne friendship with her used her personality for the inspiration for the character Hester Prynne in The Scarlet Letter.
A fare share of this is touched upon in the play. At first I thought a lot of the claims were embellished, because that is what I’ve come to expect from productions about historical figures. I really didn’t think that all of these claims were true. The play definitely peaked my interest about Margaret, and got me researching and reading up on her life. Her early departure from her life was a true tragedy. She only lived 40 years, and was traveling back from Italy with her lover, their child and her newest manuscript. The ship crashed 100 yards from Fire Island, New York and went down. None of their bodies were recovered and the manuscript was forever lost. I know it’s sad, still… what a full 40 years.
Charm took a look, a very playful look, at the relationships between Margaret and Emerson, Thoreau, and Hawthorne. The enjoyment of the play was only reinforced by the consistently strong performance by the entire cast. The set and props were minimal, and the movement and freedom it gave to the performers only added to my overall enjoyment of the play. I’d suggest that if you don’t have any plans between now and Sunday, and you live in the Salt Lake area, you should go check out this show. Sadly, it does ends on Sunday May 9th… so take you mom to it as well. I did do a little internet rummaging and it looks like Charm is part of the 2011 lineup at the Orlando Shakespeare Theater. It’s a piece that is definitely worth the two hours you spend watching it.
All that being said, it was during the performance that I heard the tune Octopus’s Garden, which I’ve never really given a lot of listening to. I mean, I think the Beatles are ok, but I don’t love them. I only own one of their CDs and it was a gift from a friend back in 1995 I think. I’ve listened to it a few times over the years, but I really do mean only a few time, like maybe 6 times tops in 15 years. I did go to a Beatles cover band concert last summer, which was a lot of fun. It was an outdoor concert and they were playing with the Utah Symphony Orchestra. I rained a lot I remember, but there was something wonderful about dancing to the Beatles outside on the side of a mountain in a soft cool summer rain with a glass of wine in my hand… it just made for a good night all the way around.
The point is, because I was in such an excessively good mood because of the play, that, when song came on, I connected it with how happy I was at that moment. Now, and for the past few days, I have been continually singing that song to myself and smiling the whole time. Even last night, as I was laying in bed, exhausted and trying to fall asleep, I was half humming, half snoring the melody of Octopus’s Garden to myself. It is subsiding some, but even as I write this and am listening to Neil Young in the background I’m still humming and singing to myself… “I like to be… under the sea… in an octopus’s garden in the shade…”
What of some of your “stuck in your head” songs?
Image Sources:
Goggle Images, key words: Charm by Kathleen Cahill, sleeping birds, Margaret Fuller, and octopus’s garden.
by Richard Timothy | Apr 25, 2010 | Gratefully Grateful, I Think There's a Point, It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, Public Service Announcement
I was going to post yesterday, but then I realized that today, or at the time tomorrow was going to be April 25. Yes 4/25, it seemed to be calling to me as the day that I should post my 100th Smirk. Oddly, posting number 100 on 4/24 would be like celebrating the New Years on the 30th instead of the 31st. If there ever was a day to share your 100th blog post with the world April 25 would be that day. Ok, fact is any day is a good day to post your 100th blog post. In my case, I was fine waiting a day so that could suggest that in some random numerological way, it meant something special, specialer… something whooo-ish. Truth of the matter is I just wanted to put the word numerological in one of my Smirks, because, well, it’s one of those words that always puts a smile on my face.
I know 100 is one of those important numbers in regards to television. I was never really sure why though. As it turns out when a television series hit episode 100 it is commonly the step required for a series to be considered for syndication in the US. I wonder if that means I’m now eligible for syndication in the US. Personally I think it’s a great idea (wink, wink, nudge, nudge).
I have watched a few 100th episodes from various series and what I do remember is that these episodes were usually pretty lame. It seems to be the episode dedicated to the highlighting past highlights, or as I like to call it, the flash back episode. As a fan it always felt like the class review before the big test next week.
I do have a theory about this though. I think it equates to the “too drunk to work” effect that happens in all realms of the daily function that is commonly referred to as work, or “a job”. I would venture that I’m not the only one who has arrived to work in the morning only to be confronted by a co-worker with lava red eyes and a sway remnant of a slouching metronome. They have that goofy smile on their face, which is a smile usually reserved for things that are eventually placed under the “seemed like a good idea at the time” category of personal stories. Then out comes the utterance, “I think I’m still drunk from last night.”
I understand that there are plenty of situations that result in drunken celebration. Your favorite team wins some championship… or just some game. Your Avatar in some virtual gaming world finally completed some huge super quest that you’ve been doing for 18 months. Your kid finally said Dada. It’s Prom. Your neighbors with that little yappy dog that never shuts up finally moved. Or, the demon bird that has been attacking your bedroom window every morning from 6 to 10 has innocently spontaneously combusted, which had nothing to do with the strategically placed heat lamps, magnifying glasses, mirrors, and a plate of birdseed. Regardless, there are endless possibilities that can ignite the need for celebration during a week night, which, if you spacing sucks, might result in you arriving to work a little wobbly.
I think this is what traditionally happens for the 100th episodes. Everyone on the show was whooping it up the night before in celebration of reaching their 100th episode and arrive to work the next morning in a mental state that isn’t exactly fitting to the work that needs to be done. So the producer gets a few lines out of them and then they spend the rest of the recovering while the production team uses a bunch of old footage to compile the 100th episode. Of course this is base on my extensive lack of knowledge when it comes to the television industry, but it does make sense.
So the question is what to do for big number 100? I’m not 100% sure. I mean other than having it be a mathematically consistent day (Monk would be so proud) and using the word numerological in today’s Smirk I feel pretty good about what’s been covered so far.
I would like to say thank you to all of you who read my Smirks. Thanks for e-mails, the comments, the stories you share, for the friends you introduce my writing to, and for coming back to see what I’ve written this time and to see if it gets your Smirk on. That’s one of the unexpected results I’ve gotten from the past 100 posts. It’s been the interaction I’ve had with you, the readers. My perspectives and tangents may have gotten you to smile and laugh, but you replies and encouragement have definitely returned that experience to me.
I write a Smirk to get you to smirk, causing you to reply to my Smirk about you smirking thus causing your smirk to get me to smirk. It’s a kind of the circle of life, but instead of lions we have smile and laughter, oh yeah, and people.
I did make reference to this a little while ago on my fan page, but one of the things I’m going to be doing is making an eBook out of the first 100 Smirks. It will be a little while before I get it out and offer it to everyone. I do need to get a proofreader to clean up some of the messy bits, and I’ll have to figure out what to do with the video segments and images. Once all of that is figured out, it should be about 150 or so pages of pure reading pleasure. And if the eBook does well enough, I’ll see if I can get some print copies made, if there is enough interest from people who would like one. I’ll keep you posted as this whole thing develops.
I do have one favor though. I call it the “share me” favor. If you have any friends that you think might get a bit of a smile or laugh from my writing, please share me with others. As you know, part of my main goal with my writing is to bring joy and laughter to others. The more people I can reach and share with, the more I can accomplish this goal. Also, a big thank you to all of you who have emailed links to my blog to your friends, who have posted my Smirks on your Facebook walls, who have suggested you friends to me so I could invite them to check out my writing, and simply, for sharing me with your friends. I appreciate your trust and you support.
It’s been a brilliant time so far and I can’t wait until I get to do another highlight of Smirk highlights post for when I reach number 200. Although, I really didn’t highlight anything did I? Well, maybe next time. Oh and for the record, that damn bird is still around, but I promise that once it finally buggers off, there is going to be a party!
I do feel a toast is in order though. So everyone get a glass of something… wine, beer, gin, orange juice, water, whatever works best for you. Don’t worry I’ll wait… ok great. So now that we’re all here and with a drink in hand, please join me in raising you glass.
Here’s to the first 100 Smirks and to all the smiles, joy, and laughter they have put into the world… and to all of you for being that source and conduit of all that joy and laughter. Thank you all. Cheers!
What are your thoughts on Smirk 100?
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: 100, thank you, cheers, drunk at work, and share.
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by Richard Timothy | Apr 15, 2010 | Gratefully Grateful, I Think There's a Point, Lightbulbs and Soapboxes, My Cutie Baby Sweetie Pie, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, Public Service Announcement, Reviewed and Recommended
So yesterday, I had managed to put together a few lines for a new Smirk plus an intro and rough outline for a new book and then… I went to a Biz Divas event, with special guest star Lisa Nichols. Yes Lisa was back in town and was speaking at another of my sweetie-baby-cutie-pie-wifey-pooh’s events. The Biz Divas is Angela’s networking and education company for business women and entrepreneurs. So when faced with the option of writing about the finer points of how to best review a Hollywood movie or sharing some of the points Lisa talked about the previous evening, well, let’s just say… take it away Lisa!
See had I actually recorded any of her presentation that would have been a perfect place to put it. I did take some notes though, and I do concede that now would probably be a perfect time for those. Funny thing about perfection, it’s a little more subjective than one might think. One person’s perfection is another person’s pa… something. I was hoping for another p word, but I’m not exactly sure which one fits the way I want it do. Hmm… problem, poppycock, picture frame, ooh how about placency, well complacency. There’s even a p in it and I think it works. Actually, I think I’m looking for the opposite of that word, something like anxiety… only with a p in it. I think I’ve made my… a point.
So when arrived at the event I was a bit bothered. Not because of the event, but because of work. Ok not exactly work, but I received a phone call at work from a Crap-Magnon, which is a lot like a Cro-Magnon except that they look like humans and sound like humans when they speak, but have not evolved to the point that they know how to speak with and be human. They reek of foul, vile energy and after talking to them for about one to two minutes tops, your skin begins crawling and a trigger in your brain that goes off that repeats over and over again that this is not a good person and you need to get away from them as soon as possible.
Even an hour after the call had ended I was still bothered that I had experienced such an intense black hole of negative energy. You could say it was the energetic equivalent of accidentally stepping into a pile of Great Dane pooh. The smell follows you around for a while and it takes a little time to get all of it off. Plus, you’re going to need a water hose to do it.
The water hose arrived when I walked into the event. The room was an energetic white hole, which is the opposite of a black hole… I looked it up. When I walked into the event the room was full of friendly faces, old friends, new friends, friends that will someday be friends, but as of yet we’ve still not met. It was the radiating positive energy of people there. It was light, kind, warm, and accepting. Also, because the room was full of people like that the energy just kept growing, and expanding outward. Five minutes after walking into that room any residuals from the Crap-Magnon caller were all gone. It was a good day and it was only going to get better. So a thank you to everyone there for that, and thanks for the smiles, the hugs, and the love.
Lisa’s presentation was grand, and it was a little different than last time I saw her. This time the focus was on business and some tips, suggestions… make that steps for people to mull through and start with to assist them with their own business. I did like this concept a lot. One of the things that make us all the same is the fact that we are all so different. When you share information designed to help others it helps to have multiple choices that people can choose from, because we’re not all in the same place. One person’s “eureka” is another’s “that was so last year.” Out of the 6 steps she shared there were individuals knowing that Step 1 was just for them while others cradled Step 2 as their “Yes, YES” and so on for each step shared.
Here are the steps Lisa gave, although if you get the chance to see her present these 6 steps I highly recommend you do so. Mainly because she has a brilliant entertaining personal story to go along with each step, and the presentation is definitely going to make you feel all warm and fuzzy.
- Step 1: Begin with the end in mind. It’s good to think about the process, but it just as important to know what the end result looks like.
- Step 2: Give yourself a thousand second chances. It’s not that your idea or dream didn’t work. It just didn’t work that time. Give yourself a second change, and then another, and another, and another. You get the point.
- Step 3: Get someone who is better than you to play with you. Get a coach and/or mentor for your business (art, music, writing, whatever it is you do), to motivate and encourage you, and to remind you that they were once were you are now, and are now were you want to be.
- Step 4: Give yourself permission to have what it is you say you want. If you have no respect for millionaires and think they are all evil and bad people, how can you become one? The more successful you are the more you can share your message and help others. Begin wealthy does not make you a bad person, it only amplifies the person you are.
- Step 5: Bring your family on the journey, but don’t drag them. And don’t wait for them. It is your vision, and you have to keep it going. Either they will support you or they won’t. What you need to do is keep moving forward.
- Step 6: Move from operating like a flood light to operating like a laser. Don’t try to do everything at once. Start with one or two things and focus on those. Once you get those down and they begins running on its own (or the event you planned is over, or the song you wrote is recorded, or the book you wrote is finished), focus on your next vision, idea, product, etc.
And that’s it… six steps. Find the one that speaks to you and own it… or don’t, in the end it’s always going to be your choice and no one else.
Which one was my “ah ha!” step? I think it was a mixture of 1 and 6, but mostly 6, mainly when it comes to my writing. I have already started four novels and only one is roughly finished. 
I get to finish that first book. Proofread, edited, revised, and submitted to publishers. Then it will be time to start working on the next one. I get to be more laser focused on completely finishing my first novel instead focusing on my writing like a puppy with ADD in a bouncy ball factory. Don’t worry though, I’ll keep Smirking as long as people are willing to read and happy to laugh.
It was a good presentation and a good night. Of course when Lisa is in the room, it always is. I wish you all could have been there. But since you couldn’t I guess it’s a good thing I took notes. Yay me!
Any thoughts on today’s Smirk?
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: Lisa Nichols, 6 steps, rude people, hosing off shoes, and puppy with ball.
I may have been mostly joking when I said there was a conspiracy going on when I had two smoke detectors go lame on the same night doubling their efforts to keep me awake all night due to their battery supplies running a bit low… and by mostly joking, I mean completely. That being said, let’s take a look at what happened to me today.
I was a standard work morning. I’m not sure why, but if I have nothing motivating me to get up and go to work, I’ll either get up rather early, or around noon, depending on what happened the night before. But on a typical work day, it’s pretty average and consistent for me to wake up two hours before work, look at the clock to make sure I have two hours to go until I need to be at work, and then I slap the snooze button with the fervor of one who is a trifle annoyed that a little inanimate object had the audacity to work properly and wake me up when I asked it to. Stupid alarm clocks anyway. Then for the next hour I continue to have a losing battle with the snooze button.
I jumped in the car, pushed in the clutch, and turned the key, and was greeted by … ________ (click). There was nothing, no sound, no lights came on, no radio, no AC, nothing, except a very soft click, which after two more turns of the key fell silent too. My battery was not just drained it was dead, kaput… no more. I would have looked into the trunk to see if I had jumper cables, but I had no power to open the trunk. I did learn that I only have an ignition key which is not the trunk as well. There is, indeed, a difference. So, see I did learn something new today!
