An Interview With The Author

Since I started blogging (almost a year ago now), I have been known to write some pretty self-indulgent stuff. If I'm not telling you random stories about my childhood, or detailing my ever-changing ambitions, I'm coming up with a list of things I find fascinating, or telling you how far I've read in War And Peace.

What do you care about all that stuff? Well, maybe you don't.

Or, if you're reading this right now, maybe you do.

Maybe it's that I can take the dumbest, most uninteresting topics imaginable and put my own creative spin on them in ways that cause you to want to read them.

Maybe I'm writing this to myself right now. Who knows?

Anyway, today marks Day 40 of my quest to write a blog post every day for a year. Since I'm roughly one-ninth of the way toward completing my goal, I thought I'd do something a little different today. Something completely self-indulgent. (Okay, maybe it's not that different.) I'm conducting an interview with myself.

Whether blogging is "real writing" or just play-acting may be up for debate. But for the sake of argument, let's call this an interview with the "Author" (represented by the "A" abbreviation and written in plain text). The "Interviewer" (represented by the "I" designation and written in italics) will be the question asker. I've culled a list of typical "author interview" questions from creativeramblings.com and paradox-theangelsarehere.blogspot.com to help myself along in this process.

If you find it interesting, great! If not, oh well, there's always tomorrow. So without further ado, here we go:


I:  Well, let's begin by asking you who you are, and what do you do? 

A:  I'm Jason Hill, and I write the blog The Plural Of Hyena. When I'm not writing for pleasure, I write professionally for Gander Direct Marketing, a subsidiary of Gander Mountain, a major outdoors and sporting goods retail company.

I:  And how long have you been blogging?

A:  This month makes a year. Although I only posted sporadically last year.

I:  What is your writing process? Do you follow a regular routine?

A:  No, not really. I usually get my ideas for blog posts at random times. Sometimes I wake up with an idea, and have to write down the "bare bones" of it so I won't forget when I actually get the chance to put it down on – I was going to say put it down on paper, but that's archaic now, isn't it? I guess I should say, when I actually get the chance to type it up. Often, I think of a great idea at an inconvenient time, like when I'm supposed to be working. At times like that, I'll just type up a brief outline, save it as a draft, and finish putting it together after work. Though I have been known to spend my lunch break at my desk, writing my blog. Quite often, actually, unless I have errands to run or something.


I:  What are the most important elements of good writing, in your opinion? What tools are must-haves for would-be writers?

A:  Well, I don't know if I'm the right person to be asking about the elements of "good" writing, but I'll give it a shot. To me, it's clearly communicating your point. Is what you're trying to say in your head coming out in your writing? If not, it's just going to be frustrating to read, and unlikely to make the impact you had hoped to make. As far as must-have tools for writers, I'd say good grammar and punctuation. I know even professional writers have editors go behind them and clean up their work, but a good writer should have a lot of those skills ingrained in them already. Misspellings and malapropisms do not make for pleasurable reading!

I:  What motivates you to write?

A:  Well, this year at least, I'm motivated by my public vow to write a new blog post every day for a year. Other than that, I think my motivation is my insatiable curiosity about everything. My wife calls it nosiness, but I prefer the word curiosity. Almost everything fascinates me. So I basically have boundless inspiration, because my curiosity is never fully satisfied.

I:  Do you ever suffer from writer’s block? If so, what do you do about it?

A:  I do, especially with this everyday blogging endeavor. Usually, if I'm blocked, I'll go back to my old posts and see if I can find anything to inspire me. Maybe it's a story I started a week or two ago that I need to continue, or finish. Maybe it's a "Things I Find Fascinating" piece that I did awhile back that leads me to think of another set of related things I find fascinating. Sometimes, I "cheat" and pull a poem or story out of my "vault" to fill the daily requirement. It's not technically cheating, because it's still stuff that I wrote, it's just not "original" to this year, or this particular day.

I:  What is the overall theme or message you're trying to convey in your blog? What are your readers' reactions to it?

A:  Wow, I don't think there's any one overall theme. Maybe ten or twenty of them! But I guess if I had to narrow it down to just one, it would be that of fascination, or maybe curiosity. I like to explore the things that I'm curious about and that fascinate me. And hopefully they fascinate other people, too. Reactions have been pretty positive in general. I often write what I hope to be funny posts, and they are usually received as such with positive comments, either on the blog itself or on my Facebook wall. Every now and then I'll write something that's not so ridiculous, and someone will say I was "insightful" or "thought-provoking", or something like that. Truthfully, I crave feedback, probably more than is reasonable. And when I write something that I really feel passionate about, or that I think is really good, and I get no responses, I feel like I've failed in some way. That's probably me being paranoid, or seeking approval too much, but it is what it is.

I:  What, if anything, have you learned from writing your blog?

A:  A lot, actually. I've learned that writing solid material on a regular basis is really hard work. I think I've also improved as a writer. Putting words together in some semblance of order is something I do on a daily basis with my job anyway. But coming up with my own material, and trying to make it make sense, and make it interesting, is challenging. On a more superficial level, I've learned a lot of useless information about random topics while researching my "Things I Find Fascinating" posts. I could probably do better on Jeopardy now than I could a few months ago. For what that's worth.

I:  What are your current or future projects?

A:  Well, aside from writing the blog, I'm trying to gather some of my older stories, poems, and essays in order to give some of them a thorough rewriting. And then my plan – well, it's what I'm thinking about doing at least – is to take the best of the old stuff, put that together with some of the new stuff I've written for the blog, and maybe try to self-publish two or three different books. One would be creative non-fiction essays (like most of my blog entries are), another would be short stories, and the third one – if I did that one – would be all poetry. I'm trying to see if I have enough good material, or could add to it with newer writings, to actually assemble a couple of decent-sized books. I'd probably start by trying to go the e-book route, as that seems to be a little bit easier for the do-it-yourselfers. But again, this is all in the early stages right now. I haven't actually looked into all my options just yet. Of course, I'd love to be published through traditional means, but I figure if I can get a couple of projects out there on my own first, if they're good enough, then maybe someone will take notice. We'll see how that goes.

 I:  As a reader, what books or authors have influenced your life and your writing?

A:  Hmm, there are so many of them, it's hard to narrow it down. I'd have to say first and foremost that the Bible has most influenced my life, and I try – not always successfully – to live my life according to God's Word. As far as what's influenced my writing, I guess I would probably say pretty much anything I've read by Stephen King, all of Dean Koontz's older stuff, and anything by Ted Dekker. I tend to like edgier thriller/horror fiction, and would love to be able to write like those guys. I really like Robert Fulghum when it comes to creative non-fiction. I'm inspired by the gentle humor of Charles Schulz's Peanuts comics, and the sarcasm of Jim Davis' Garfield strip. And I really loved the bizarre humor of the Series Of Unfortunate Events kids' book series.

I:  Do you prefer reading e-books, paperbacks, or hardcovers?

A:  All of the above. I don't really have a strong preference for any one particular format. I have a Kindle, and I'm usually reading anywhere between two and four books on it simultaneously. I usually have at least one paperback and a hardcover going at the same time, too. And then at work, I listen to audiobooks while I'm writing (which most people don't see how that's possible, but somehow it works for me).

I:  What books are you currently reading, and in what format?

A:  On the Kindle, I'm reading War And Peace by Leo Tolstoy, The Abigail Affair by Timothy Frost, and Princess Callie And The Totally Amazing Talking Tiara by Daisy Piper. In paperback, I'm reading The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson.  In hardcover, Green River, Running Red by Ann Rule. And on audio, The Innocent Man by John Grisham. And yes, I probably do suffer from Attention Deficit Disorder.

I:  How many books do you read in a month – roughly?

A:  Last year, I probably averaged about 12 a month. But I didn't get the Kindle till November, and I've been reading more since then. So, I'd say probably about 15 or so books a month.

I:  What's your favorite color?

A:  Well, I doubt if anyone cares, but it's a toss-up between green and black.

I:  What are 5 items you never leave home without?

A:  Again with the irrelevant questions! Let's see...my wallet, cell phone, keys, at least one pen, and probably my Kindle. 

I:  Cats or dogs?

A:  Cats. We have three of them: Fred, Mikey, and Winnie. I think dogs are cute, but they make me a little nervous.

I:  Coffee or tea?

A:  Both. Coffee in the morning. Sweet tea at night. Water and diet soda throughout the day. Why do you need to know these things? 

I:  I'm just going down the list of questions I was provided with. Don't worry, there's only four more of them. What is your favorite food?

A:  Fried chicken.

I:  Vanilla or chocolate ice cream?

A:  Mint chocolate chip. It's the best!

I:  What scares you?

A:  Lots of things. But if I had to list three, I would say: a home invasion while I'm at home, falling out of a moving vehicle, and being fired.

I:  Last question. Where can we stalk you online?

A:  On my blog at lazyspleen.blogspot.com  (The Plural Of Hyena).  On my Facebook page at facebook.com/jasonpaulhill.  Or on Twitter at twitter.com/lazyspleen – but I'm almost never on there.

I:  Thank you for your time.

A:  Don't mention it.

Fourteen Things NOT To Buy Your Significant Other For Valentine's Day

It's that time of year again. When hopeless guys try desperately to figure out what to buy their lovely ladies for Valentine's Day. When ladies know exactly what they want to receive, but don't want to have to spell it out for their hopeless guys. And inevitably, nobody wins...

Well, I may not have all the answers. Strike that – I don't have ANY of the answers. After all, I too am a hopeless guy. But I can offer a few suggestions of what NOT to get your ladies for Valentine's Day, guys. How do I know these things? From personal experience, you ask? No, not really. But I have common sense. And I know these are some really bad gifts to give. Avoid them like overused clichés!

DISCLAIMER:  I will fully admit that I could be wrong in some cases. Maybe there is a lady out there who's dying to have a gnome clock or a new toilet seat cover, or...but I'm getting ahead of myself. Anyway, if I have misjudged any of you ladies out there and one of these "thoughtful" items IS on your wish list, then I apologize in advance for my presumptions. But I think I'm probably right in most cases. You be the judge...

1)  Shredded Coconut In A Can:  While this may be the love of your life, Hopeless Guy – though I seriously doubt it – I don't think your lady would appreciate unwrapping a can (or two, or three) of shredded coconut. Even if you went to the trouble of using said coconut to make a coconut cake, as seen in the picture below, I still don't think this is quite the impression you want to make on her. Especially if you are still just dating, and would like for your relationship to eventually lead to bigger and better things, like marriage.

2)  The Hoodie-Footie:  I don't care if it does offer "head-to-toe comfort" or is "made from marshmallow soft fleece," this is one creepy gift to give or to receive. It may now be available in a "hot" leopard print, complete with attached ears, wrist cuffs, and "unique thumbholes" – but sexy it's not. It's ridiculous. It's only a slight upgrade from the Snuggie, which isn't saying a whole lot. Sure, it will keep her warm, but as far as having any visual appeal whatsoever, it's severely lacking. There are plenty of stores which sell much more appealing sleep wear. Go to them; they can help you, Hopeless Guy. But don't get her the Hoodie-Footie – if you know what's good for you, just don't do it.

3)  The Big Hunka Love Bear:  This four-and-a-half foot tall teddy bear, from the Vermont Teddy Bear company, is no substitute for you, Hopeless Guy; I don't care how much the voiceover announcer tries to convince you otherwise. The Big Hunka Love Bear may indeed be "a pile of awesomeness," but it's just not normal – on any level. No one in their right mind would prefer the company of a life-size teddy bear to a living, breathing human being. If she spends time alone with this teddy bear and thinking of you the entire time, Hopeless Guy – well, I hate to break it to you, but you might have a real weirdo on your hands. As the video says, "Don't go there!" Well, it was talking about chocolates, but I'm talking about the Big Hunka Love Bear. Just don't do it.



4)  Sex For Dummies Book:  Okay, this one's directed specifically at the married folks. Even if you think that your wife (or even your husband, ladies) needs to read this book, it is NOT – I repeat NOT – a good gift to give them on Valentine's Day. Not only will it likely cause them to experience strong feelings of shame and inferiority, it will also take them too long to read the book to do anything about changing the situation you are in, whatever that may be. (And I don't want to know.) I realize there is a genuine need for books like these, but not on Valentine's Day. Never then.

5)  Tickets To The "Build A Zombie Puppet Workshop":  Now I realize, Hopeless Guys, that for some of you, a "Build A Zombie Puppet Workshop" coming to your town is like a dream come true. And for you, this might make the perfect gift. But your sweetie doesn't want to learn how to make zombie puppets. She might even be offended or creeped out by it. I realize that this would be a once-in-a-lifetime experience for you, and because you love her, you want to share these kinds of experiences with her. But this is not the right thing to do for Valentine's Day. The workshop is the day before Valentine's Day. Here's what you do: Go to the workshop by yourself, have a blast, make a puppet or two. Then, for the love of all that's holy, go do something romantic with your lady the next day. Not this – she doesn't want any part of it. Trust me.

6)  Sweat-Heart Sweet-Shirt:  For those of you who didn't know that the Hoodie-Footie was a bad idea for a gift, here's another helpful hint. Neither is the Sweat-Heart Sweet-Shirt. Not only is it ridiculously overpriced for a novelty item, it's also ridiculous-looking. And probably uncomfortable. And problematic if you and your significant other, like these two in the picture, are of vastly different heights. Save your money and buy lots of anything else for her, whether it be flowers, chocolates, or truly anything else other than this. It's just, well, awful.

7)  Reservations At White Castle For A Romantic Burger Dinner:  There's nothing wrong with a good burger – and from what I hear, White Castle excels at making them. But unless your sweetie is crazy about hamburgers, this is probably not the most romantic place you could take her on Valentine's Day. Reserve a place in her heart somewhere else – somewhere with soft lighting, maybe a live jazz band, or simply have a nice dinner at home, that you cooked. But not White Castle. It just doesn't scream "I've had the time of my life, and I've never felt like this before...", which is probably more what you're going for on Valentine's Day.

8)  Scope Mouthwash:  I don't care how much you think she may need it – mouthwash is not the answer for a last-minute Valentine's Day gift. I don't care whether the color of Scope matches her eyes or not. It's not what she was hoping for from you, it's not what she was dreaming of, and frankly it's flat-out insulting. Get some Scope for yourself – use it before you go on your date with her. But don't give her Scope as a gift. That's just not okay on any level.

9)  Leopard Print Commode Cover:  Woo her with flowers, woo her with chocolates, but don't ever, ever try to woo her with toilet seat covers. It doesn't matter whether or not animal prints are her thing, she still won't want to sit on them in the bathroom. This is a very bad idea for a Valentine's Day gift idea. Please move on. Like, now.

10)  King Ah-Ah-Choo Tissue Box Cover:  No one can argue that this is a unique gift. It's not every day you get to pull a Kleenex out of a pharaoh's nose. It appeals to your inner Indiana Jones. It offers historical perspective – pharaohs had stuffy noses, too. But it does not make a good Valentine's Day gift for the love of your life. It's just too weird. Don't do it. Trust me on this one.

11)  Axe-Wielding Garden Gnome Clock:  I don't care if she does like garden gnomes. I don't care if she likes axes. I don't even care if she likes clocks. When you put the three of these things together, it adds up to a very poor choice for a Valentine's Day gift. Sure, she can boast that she's the only one of her girl friends who has one of these. But she won't boast about it. She won't even tell anyone about it. She won't post a picture of it on her Facebook wall. She might not even thank you. What she will do is – as soon she knows you're not looking – dig a hole, set the clock on fire, and bury the flaming pieces where no one (not even a curious dog) will ever find it again.

12)  Grandfather Clock With Free Roses:  While we're on the subject of clocks, a grandfather clock is also a good example of something that you should NOT buy your sweetheart for Valentine's Day. Sure, Old Time Clock Shop may throw in a free dozen roses with your purchase. But it's not worth it. Put simply, a grandfather clock is not a sexy gift. It's impersonal, it's quite heavy, and it has a tendency to chime loudly at inconvenient times. Save your money and buy two or three dozen roses yourself. You'll thank me later.

13)  The Ultimate Barry Manilow Karaoke CD:  Let's face it. When it comes to cheesy, sappy, and unbearably saccharine love songs, Barry Manilow is the undisputed king. But if you happen to see this CD in the store, or spot the MP3 version of it somewhere online and think – "Wow, wouldn't she LOVE that?" – the answer is no. She wouldn't love it. She would hate it. (Almost anyone would.) And she'd never even come close to actually playing it. Or singing along with it. Ever.

14)  Either Of These Creepy Cards (Or Anything Remotely Resembling Them):  There's a reason they don't make cards like these any more. Because they're horrible. And utterly despicable. And any number of other words which mean "deplorable". If you absolutely MUST buy her a card and ONLY a card (and I don't recommend this, either), then at least find her a decent one. Not one of these monstrosities. At least, not if you want to ensure the future health of your relationship with her. Just. Say. No.

What Happened Next: The Suzy & Danny Saga Continues

We now return to the ongoing saga of Suzy Sunshine and Danny Danger. If you haven't read the first part of this story, you might want to start here . If you have read that, then welcome to Part 2. As I've said before, I don't know where I'm going with this story, but wherever that is, it's been fun getting there. Hope you enjoy it!

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Danny Danger awoke to find his arms and legs entangled with the arms and legs of a lovely young lady. Immediately, he started getting ideas, and they weren't good ones. He tentatively reached for her face and was about to touch her cheek – an oddly tender action for a ruffian like himself – when a roar erupted from the wilderness behind him.

It was the surprisingly agile, middle-aged woman whose purse and Volvo he had recently stolen. She had pursued Danny on foot while he was driving the Volvo away, and had been pacing him remarkably well, to the point where he expected any moment to see her flying over the top of the car and blocking out the windshield with her smart suit jacket and tweed skirt, forcing him to stop the car. He had been about to banish such a ludicrous thought when the surprisingly agile, middle-aged woman did just as he had imagined, and blocking his view of the road, forced him to jump the curb and stop the car near the entrance to the park. She had jumped to the ground with now-not-so-surprising speed and reached for the driver's side door when Danny swung the door open abruptly and knocked the woman flat on her back. He made a break for the woods, expecting that the middle-aged woman would gratefully accept the gift of taking her car back and that would be the end of it.

Danny had been so very wrong in his assumption, and here again was the surprisingly agile, middle-aged woman to prove it. She stood above him, gripping a substantial-looking branch in both hands, and appeared to be about to plunge it down on his face with another primeval roar when Danny, still entangled with the lovely young lady, rolled them both a few feet away, deftly avoiding the blow.

The enraged woman let out a deafening screech and lifted the branch again and took a step in Danny's direction. But then she stopped, and dropped the branch, looking confused and more than a little concerned.

"What are you doing to that lovely young lady?" the surprisingly agile, middle-aged woman shouted.

"Wouldn't I like to know?" replied Danny Danger, rhetorically.

"Who is she? And why are the two of you impersonating a life-sized pretzel?" the woman continued.

"I got no clue," said Danny, and reached for the bludgeoning branch which the woman had dropped. His move did not go unnoticed, as the surprisingly agile, middle-aged woman stomped on his hand with her Manolo Blahnik high-heeled shoe.

Danny cried out, and doubled over (as much as is possible while fully entangled in the arms and legs of a lovely young lady) in pain. The lovely young lady stirred a bit, then opened her eyes.

"Where am I?" Suzy Sunshine croaked.

"On the ground," replied Danny Danger, only inches from her face.

"What am I doing here?" she asked.

"Don't you remember?" said Danny Danger.

"I don't even remember who I am," Suzy replied.

Danny thought fast, which was quite a feat for him. "You're my girlfriend."  Danny looked up expectantly at the surprisingly agile, middle-aged woman, trying to gauge the degree of her belief in his ruse.

"Do you really expect me to believe that?" the woman said, and bent to pick up the branch. She held it in one hand and began tapping it repeatedly across her other palm.

"Uh..." Danny Danger stammered. "Yes?"

"Who are you?" Suzy muttered to Danny, still in a fog.

"I'm Danny, baby," he answered in a soothing tone.

"Danny Baby, I don't feel so good," Suzy said, and untangled one arm to rest it, palm up, against her forehead.

"Oh, Danny Baby..." cooed the surprisingly agile, middle-aged woman with a sneer. "...you still have some explaining to do."

"Whaddya mean?" Danny replied, looking as clueless as he was.

"Why'd you steal my purse and my Volvo, Danny Baby?" she said, still tapping the branch across her palm.

"Oh, that. Well, I was trying to get to my girlfriend. She was in trouble."

"And how did you know she was in trouble, on the other side of the park?" the woman challenged him.

Danny, though not technically on his feet, was quick on his feet, and answered, "Because I have ESPN. I know things ahead of time. Things that are going to happen. I'm like, you know, physic."

"You're physic? And you have ESPN?" the woman said, looking as skeptical as she was. "Well, Danny Baby, if you're so physic, then why don't you tell your 'girlfriend' there what her name is."

Danny shivered involuntarily, though it wasn't cold outside. He turned to look at the lovely young woman. She looked like a Debbie, or maybe a Margaret. But he wasn't sure. He looked her full in the face for the first time and was struck by her beauty. She was utter perfection. That was it!

"Her name is Perfection. Utter Perfection," Danny replied. "But I just call her Utter."

"Udder is an awfully strange name for such a beautiful young lady," the surprisingly agile, middle-aged woman said, looking consistently skeptical as before.

"I didn't say Udder, I said Utter. You should listen better next time, lady!" Danny Danger spat hatefully. Then he turned to Suzy Sunshine and again reached out to touch her cheek. 

When his fingers made contact with her face, the dazed young lady swatted at him with the hand she'd held against her forehead.  "Don't touch me!"

Danny grimaced slightly, then turned and smiled at the surprisingly agile, middle-aged woman. "We had a fight this morning. The usual stuff. You know. Does the toilet paper roll go on over or under? I say over, but Utter, she says under. It's the, you know, the old-age question."

"Who are you calling old?" the middle-aged woman screeched, and tapped the branch against her open palm a few more times for emphasis.

"Certainly not you, ma'am," Danny stammered, which was becoming a habit with him. "Listen, we're just having a conservation here. Nobody needs to get hurt."

"Danny Baby?" Suzy called out, and Danny turned instantly, as though drawn to her in some way.

"Yes, Utter, dear?" Danny cooed, and frowned at himself. Danny Danger don't do cooing, he thought.

"Why is that woman being mean to you?" Suzy whined.

Danny turned and glanced quickly at the surprisingly agile, middle-aged woman, then turned back toward Suzy. "Well, Utter, it's like this. I sorta, borrowed her car for a few minutes, because I was trying to get to you as quick as possible. I knew you was in trouble. You know, on account of our fight this morning?"

"I don't remember our fight this morning," said Suzy, and she began to weep silently.

"Then neither do I, honey. It's all forgotten. It's in the past," Danny replied. Then, to seal the deal, he turned to the other woman, nodded his head and gave her a quick thumbs-up, then returned his gaze to the lovely young woman he called Utter, and planted a soft kiss on her cheek.

Danny Danger looked back at the surprisingly agile, middle-aged woman as if to say, Okay, show's over, everybody can go back home now. But she was not impressed.

"If any of that is true, and I seriously doubt that it is," replied the woman, "it still doesn't explain why you took my purse."

"Oh, that," said Danny, and thought quickly again, making his head hurt a bit. "Well, that was just, um, a cry for help. You know, I'm not a real good person and I, uh, wanna get my life back on track. So I stoled your purse, and that was, like, a cry for help. So you, or someone would, like, stop me. Kinda, you know, do an invention on me and send me to get rehabitated."

The surprisingly agile, middle-aged woman stopped tapping the branch against her palm, and looked long and hard at Danny, obviously confused. "You make my head hurt," she said.

"I know the feeling," replied Danny. He turned toward Utter/Suzy, then back toward the other woman. "So, um, are you gonna let me go?"

The surprisingly agile, middle-aged woman hesitated, as though pondering Danny's fate, which in fact she was doing. Then she spoke: "I will let you go, on two conditions. First, that you give me back my purse, with all the money that was in it. Second, that your 'girlfriend' Utter will agree to check you into 'rehabitation', as you call it, no later than tomorrow morning."

Danny looked at her, a little confused, thinking that her two conditions sounded more like four or five. But that was probably because he was only half-listening. He turned back toward Utter/Suzy, winked at her and smiled. Still looking her way, he said: "So, Utter, whaddya say? Sound like a deal to you?"

Suzy Sunshine, still trying to clear her head from the impact of her fall, just nodded her head dumbly at the strange man with whom she was bodily entangled.

Danny turned back to look at the surprisingly, middle-aged woman, and was surprised to see that she had already gone. Her purse, which had been wedged in between Danny's lower back and Suzy's right shoulder, was also gone and presumably all the money with it.

"Cool," crowed Danny Danger, then turned to gaze again at the lovely young woman with whom he was still imitating a life-sized pretzel. "So, now what do we do?"

Suzy Sunshine squinted at Danny, trying to make out his face clearly. She thought he sort of looked like a man she'd once seen on a wanted poster at the post office. But she couldn't be sure. She didn't even remember who she was, much less what a post office was, even less than that what reason she'd have had for ever seeing this man's face before today. But he seemed friendly enough, and wasn't bad to look at, either.

So Suzy replied, with as much energy as she could put into it: "I'd like to have my legs and my other arm back."

Danny grinned, struggling to wriggle free from the heap that they had become. "And then?"

Suzy raised one eyebrow and smiled wryly. "We'll see..."

TO BE CONTINUED...

Things I Find Fascinating: Peculiar, Preposterous, And Positively Perplexing Pennsylvania Place Names

Okay, so I've been pondering over this one for a long time, well before I started blogging. I have a friend who once lived in Pittsburgh, and he brought to my attention the preponderance of peculiar place names across the state of Pennsylvania.

For some reason (or probably for lots of various reasons), Pennsylvania seems to have a large number of oddly named villages, towns, and cities. I'm sure there's a long and storied history behind each one, which I won't go into detail to relay. This is just an observational entry, for entertainment purposes only.

Before I go on, I have friends who originally come from Pennsylvania, as well as friends who currently live there. This post isn't intended to offend any of you who may have lived, or currently live, in or near any of the places mentioned below. It's not your fault they're named what they are. I just find them funny, and fascinating, and in some cases frightening. And I hope you will too.


1)  Hyperactive Hyphenation, Or Just Plain Wishy-Washiness?  Apparently, the founders of these towns couldn't decide what they wanted to call the town, so they took the top two choices (or three, in some cases) and slapped 'em together with a hyphen in the middle, and – voila! – the town is named. I'm sure in some cases this was a result of two smaller towns or communities joining together to form one slightly larger town, but that doesn't mean they aren't still funny. Can you imagine having to write some of these as part of your return address when sending a letter? You'd either run out of room on the envelope or develop a wrist cramp from all the writing! Here they are:

Cornwell Heights-Eddington

Homeacre-Lyndora

Shanor-Northvue

Nanty-Glo

Fairview-Ferndale

Lavelle-Locustdale

Grier City-Park Crest

Feasterville-Trevose

Wilkes-Barre

Salunga-Landisville

Stonybrook-Wilshire

(and my personal favorites) 

Reinerton-Orwin-Muir

and

Leacock-Leola-Bareville

2)  Biblical And/Or Holy Land Place Names:  These shouldn't be all that surprising, I suppose, as Pennsylvania has historically been home to quite a few Amish, Mennonite, and Quaker communities, among others. Here are a few examples:

Bethlehem

Ephrata

Nazareth

Emmaus

Mount Carmel

New Galilee

New Bethlehem

Lebanon

Bethany

not to mention

Philadelphia

and

The Promised Land State Park

(okay, so that one's not a town, but it fits the theme, so go with it!)

3)  Sheesh! What's With All The "Sh" Names?  You've probably heard of Shanksville, Pennsylvania, where passengers from Flight 93 caused their plane to crash to keep the terrorists on board from redirecting it to Washington, D.C. in order to destroy either the Capital or the White House on September 11, 2001. But there are tons of other "Sh" names among the many towns and cities in Pennsylvania. Here are a few of the more interesting ones:

Sheakleyville

Shiremanstown

Shoemakersville

Shippensburg

Shrewsbury

Shamokin Dam

Shirleysburg

Shelocta

Shenandoah

Shinglehouse

and the one I like best

Shickshinny 

4)  Tongue-Twisting Native American Names:  I really had to pick and choose with these, because there are tons of Native American place names scattered throughout the state. Personally, I think these names are beautiful – I'm totally not making fun of them. I just wish I knew how to pronounce them better. You give 'em a try:

Tunkhannock

Nesquehoning

Nanticoke

Hokendauqua

Catasaqua

Tonnoquenessing

and in honor of Groundhog Day a few days ago...

Punxsutawney

(if you don't already know, Punxsutawney is where the official Groundhog Day ceremony takes place each year; the groundhog who does or does not

see his shadow each February 2nd is nicknamed "Punxsutawney Phil")

5)  Blue-Collar Towns:  Pennsylvania has a long and proud history of being a center of industry in this country, with steel being its signature product. So it shouldn't be surprising that a number of towns throughout the state reflect that blue-collar philosophy. Here are a few examples I found interesting:

Factoryville

Mechanicsville

Mechanicsburg

Industry

Millville

Steelton

Steelville

Uniontown

and probably not a blue-collar reference

here, but always a great name for a town...

Rough And Ready

6)  Mountain Towns:  Pennsylvania has its share of mountains, being right in the center of the Appalachian mountain range. So it's appropriate that the state also has more than its share of towns named after mountains. Here are a few (albeit redundant) examples, aside from the aforementioned Mount Carmel:

Mount Joy

    Mount Nebo

Mount Carbon

Mount Gretna

Mount Pocono

Mount Union

Mount Wolf

Mount Holly Springs

Mount Oliver

Mount Penn
Mount Pleasant

Back Mountain

Laurel Mountain

Mountain Top

and last but not least...

Mountville

7)  The "Um...No Comment", Or "What Were They Thinking?" Department:  These questionably named towns, villages, and cities are, well, questionable. (Kids, cover your eyes!) I'm sure there's a good explanation for most of these...maybe...but I don't think I really want to know any details. So here – without comment – are a few of the ones "in question":

Bedminster

Pleasant Unity

Virginville 

Lucky

Pleasureville

Climax 

Sugar Notch 

Lickingville

and, oddly enough, in the heart of Amish country...

Intercourse

8)  Just Plain Weird Place Names:   This is the portion of our show where I just can't leave well enough alone. I've held back most of my smart-alecky comments up to this point, but no more! So, in no particular order or grouping, here are the rest of the oddball place names in Pennsylvania I found, with the obligatory commentary. Proceed with caution. (Not really, just be prepared for unbridled dorkiness!)

King Of Prussia  (because "Queen Of England" 
would've just looked too weird on the signpost)

Upper Black Eddy  (ironically, there is no 
Lower Black Eddy, nor is there an Upper White Eddy)

Moosic  (this falls in the "Village Idiot Who 
Can't Spell 'Music' Named Our Town" category)

Glen Campbell  (which is, ironically, NOT named after the country singer)

Jim Thorpe  (which is, not surprisingly, 
named after the famous athlete and Olympian)

Skyline View  (which isn't really all that close to a 
major city, so it probably doesn't really have one)

Ritzie Village  (which appears to be in the middle of 
nowhere, and probably isn't all that ritzy) 

Paint  (an artists' community, perhaps?)

Pillow  (a narcoleptics' community, maybe?)

Forty Fort  (probably also falls in the "Village Idiot" category)

Economy  (everything's cheap here, or is bleeding – either way)

Lemon  (you might want to go the next town over to buy a car)

Scalp Level  (I'd prefer my scalp to be left on, 
not leveled, thank you very much)

Picture Rocks  (because they didn't know how to spell Hieroglyphics)

Manns Choice  (obviously named before 
the Women's Liberation Movement)

Meshoppen  (ooh, do they have outlet malls?)

Sunnyburn  (tsk, tsk, shoulda brought your Coppertone!)

Wilburton Number One  (not be confused with Wilburton 
Number Two, which just goes by Wilburton – haha, suckers!)

Holidaysburg  (woo-hoo! every day's a holiday!)

Slippery Rock  (be sure to wear grippy shoes!)

Railroad  (let me guess, trains used to come through this town?)

Effort  (well, at least they TRIED to give the town a decent name)

Bittersville  (this town leaves a sour taste in your mouth)

Distant  (you can get there from here, but it'll take a while)

Hop Bottom  (home of Peter Cottontail)

Peach Bottom  (home of fuzzy fruit)

Fruitville  (home of all other fruit)

Stillwater  (ideal for wading)

Falls  (ideal for drowning)

Turkey City  (popular around Thanksgiving)

Bird In Hand  (common on Thanksgiving Day)

Goheenville  (they have their own cheer built into the town's name)

Rural Valley  (well, at least they know their place)

State College  (unimaginatively named by someone who
probably didn't graduate from Penn State University)

Trainer  (you go here to get into shape)

Loyalsock  (in honor of the one that DIDN'T get lost in the dryer)

When Almost Doesn't Count

I just finished watching the Super Bowl. The Patriots almost won it. But they didn't -- they lost. (Sorry, Pats fans!)

Which got me thinking... (Have you noticed that it doesn't take much to get me thinking about random things?)

In what other situations does almost not count? Of course, you've heard about horseshoes (the closer the better, but you don't have to ring the post to succeed) and hand grenades (like most explosive devices, close is still going to destroy stuff, although a direct hit is always preferable). But what else is there in the realm of almost? Here's what I came up with:

1)  A Passing Grade. While watching the Super Bowl, I was helping Mary grade papers (which, for some reason, I really enjoy doing, and she hates doing). On one particular quiz, if the student missed five questions, their grade would end up being a 67. Which is three points short of a 70, which is a passing grade. These kids were almost there, but they didn't quite make it. They failed. Oh well! They should have studied harder.

2)  Your Favorite Pants.  Have you ever noticed that when you're trying to lose weight, that one pair of pants you really want to be able to fit into are the last ones you actually can wear? Oh, they almost fit, but not quite. So you keep them until you can fit into them. Call it motivation. Or separation anxiety. Whatever. You just can't, or won't, let them go.

3)  Being On Time For Work.  I'm especially guilty of this. I always struggle to make it to work on time, and rarely succeed. So I end up having to work over, or take a shortened lunch, to make up for the lost time. Some days I have my act together and actually get there only five minutes after I'm supposed to. I'm almost on time. But I'm not. I'm late. (Slacker!)

4)  Understanding What People Are Saying.  Confession: I have a hard time listening. Not hearing, mind you. Listening. I try really hard, but I just don't catch everything. Sometimes I start listening after someone has started speaking, and sometimes I stop listening before they're finished speaking. I don't do it on purpose, I just struggle with this. Usually listening to almost but not all of what someone says completely destroys the context and meaning of what's being said. You might say "I don't feel really good." And if I don't hear the "I don't", I may reply "that's great!" Which might annoy you. And for most people to whom I do this, it does. Sorry about that.

I could go on and on with these, but I've still got papers to grade, so I'd better get back to that. At least this was a mildly diverting brain break. Well, almost.

Things I Don't Say Often Enough

Okay, this is going to be short and sweet. In thinking about the many things I say on a daily basis, I'm struck by the few, albeit crucial things that I don't say nearly enough. So here they are:

1)  I'm Sorry.  I'm often more prone to make excuses for what I've done to wrong someone, or perhaps shift the blame, or even try to justify my actions. But the fact is that sometimes I hurt people, and I just need to say simply and honestly, "I'm sorry."

2)  I Was Wrong.  This one often goes along with "I'm sorry", but is probably harder to say sincerely. For me especially, I don't like to admit when I'm wrong. And yet I'm wrong all the time.

3)  You're Beautiful.  This one's a little more specific to my wife. I always think she's beautiful, even when she doesn't think or feel beautiful herself. But I don't always say what I'm thinking. And I realize that it's in those low moments where she doesn't feel beautiful that I most need to tell her that she is.

4)  I Want To Help.  This one kind of hearkens back to my post of a few weeks ago, but in a more positive vein. Sometimes I'd like to help a friend, or family member, or coworker with something they're dealing with, but I don't want them to feel like I'm judging them, as though they need help. Or sometimes I know I should help them, but unfortunately my selfishness kicks in; because I know that if I offer to help, I'm committing myself to possibly more than I'm actually willing to do. So I hold back. I know my response in both cases is wrong, but sometimes I don't know how else to deal with it.

There are probably tons more of these I could come up with, but this is a good start for now. I've got my hands full just working on these.



WAR AND PEACE UPDATE:  I've completed 14% of this massive tome, and so far I'm still enjoying it. I even went five minutes over my intended time on the treadmill last night because I was so into it. Now that's saying something! I don't remember whether I set a specific date to finish the book, probably because finishing it at all is a big enough goal in itself. But I'll set one now, since it seems as though I'll actually get through it. December 31st -- simple as that. I can pace myself however I'd like, but as long as I'm done with it by the end of the year, I've accomplished my goal.

Short Story: "Dumpster Diver"

Okay, so this is a fragment of an idea. A short story in progress, if you will. I haven't come up with an ending for it yet, so it kind of leaves you hanging. Ideas, good or bad, just come to me sometimes, and I have to go with them as I get them. So don't shoot the messenger if you hate it, or if you're dying to know what happens next. I can't wait to find out what happens either, and I wrote it. So there!




Garry was looking for a bite to eat. It never ceased to amaze him how much good food people will throw away. What a waste! But it would not go to waste.

He was sure there was some validity to the common thinking, or science or what have you, that it was unhealthy or unsanitary to eat food that had been tossed away. That flies or other creatures would get to the food first and sully it, leave behind germs or even disease. It didn't matter to Garry. Eating food that could make him sick was much better than eating no food at all and eventually dying.

Thirst wasn't a problem. There were plenty of public restrooms and even the occasional water fountain (though those seemed to be harder to find these days) where he could get a free drink of water. As long as no one saw him doing it, he could even wash his face and arms in the restroom sinks. The rest of his body was not so fortunate as his face and arms, but that was the way it was.

Garry knew if he could maintain a modicum of cleanliness, at least the appearance of it, that he would be less likely to be thrown out of public establishments, unlike some brazen bums who walked in like they owned the place.

He could get away with walking around some places just as he was without looking over his shoulder every five seconds. Like Walmart, for instance. They'd let anybody in, and would only throw you out if they saw you stealing something. Even then, you might get lucky, as some of the employees understood what it was like to have nothing, and would look the other way if they pitied you enough.

But Garry never stole. He didn't have to. There were always things that people left behind, whether it be the remnants of a lunch or a ball point pen. He could find a use for it all, and he did.

He never begged for money, though every now and then a sympathetic soul would offer him a coin or two, or maybe even a dollar. He'd use it to buy himself an actual meal, if he ever scraped together enough to do so. Not that he needed to. There was always something to eat.

Dumpsters were an abundant source of edibles, especially the ones behind restaurants or grocery stores. Produce that had gone just beyond its out-date was an everyday delicacy for Garry. He actually ate a more balanced diet than most of the people who could afford to eat what they chose.

Garry's favorite place to check for food was the Burger King, just off the main drag. Customers often left their food half-eaten, and simply tossed it away. Burger King employees regularly took out the "garbage", but only haphazardly disposed of it. Often a bag would be peeking over the top of the Dumpster, and Garry needed only to reach up and grab it and abscond with it behind the Dumpster to see what treasures could be found.

It was a Thursday. He knew this because he had just passed the bank on Main with its digital scrolling message, which welcomed you to the bank and informed you of the day, time, and temperature (it was currently 87° F). Burger King had already weathered the lunch rush, and was languishing in the mid-afternoon drag before the after-work crowd arrived.

The young man named Marvin had just brought out three bags of garbage and tossed them in the Dumpster. (Garry had bumped into Marvin by mistake one time when he had gone inside to use the restroom, and had seen his name tag.) Marvin had done a better-than-usual job of getting the bags all the way inside the Dumpster, which would make Garry's job a little more difficult, but still doable.

Garry waited for Marvin to return to the restaurant, and for two cars in the drive-thru line to circle around to the other side of the building. He lifted himself up by his calloused hands, and peered inside the Dumpster. Garry spotted the recently added bags, but they were just out of reach. He leaned over just a bit farther, trying as best he could not to go too far.

He knew he was in trouble when he felt rough hands press against his lower back, pushing him forward faster than he was able to stop himself. Even as he tumbled into the Dumpster, Garry braced himself for what would surely be a hard fall. The many bags of garbage notwithstanding, he knew he far outweighed them and their cushioning power would be greatly diminished by his weight.

He was not mistaken. With a deafening thud, his head smashed into the side of the Dumpster even as his body careened downward. Garry hit the bottom with one leg bent beneath him, and an arm twisted backward in the wrong direction.
A series of sickening snaps confirmed what the simultaneous wave of pain was already telling him. His left leg and his right arm were badly fractured.

Garry could only cry out in pain, helpless to form words he knew would be of no use anyway. But his cries were short-lived. Gradually but definitively, the blackness engulfed him, and he lost consciousness.



P.S.  If you have any ideas of what should happen to Garry next (no, he's not dead, he's just unconscious), leave me a comment, or two, or twenty. You may just spur me to finish the story sooner than I might otherwise.