Well, That’s An Idea.

I keep notes by my bed.

Most writers do, I would imagine. It doesn’t really matter what it is that you write. Songs, stories, poems, blog entries, whatever the case may be, a writer will keep notes in some form or another. Usually there is a file, either on your phone, computer, or a real honest to goodness folder or notebook with actual paper in it. These files are not only handy, but inspiring, and also quite important to the craft.

Now, the notes that I am speaking of here are not notes about pieces already written, although those types of notes are necessary too. What I mean in this instance when I say “notes” are actually “ideas”. I have an idea file on my phone, and a notebook by the bedside in case I think of a good one just before drifting off to sleep or, more often, wake up in the middle of the night with an absolutely amazing idea. Then I go back and read what I wrote later on. Sometimes these ideas are good, sometimes they are not so good, and sometimes they are completely baffling.

Flipping through the notebook this morning I came upon one of those baffling entries. This one is several months old and I don’t even remember writing it down. I must have thought it was the funniest thing in the world at the time, or possibly fodder for one of my “I really will publish one of these someday” short stories. Either way, the entry was right there staring me in the face, and I had to deal with it. Are you ready for this? Two words.

Towel vampire.

That’s it. That’s the entry. Towel Vampire.

Not “Vampire Towel”, that would almost make sense. Clearly a towel has been turned into a vampire through some ancient ritual gone wrong and is wreaking havoc at the local gymnasium. That I can work with. But no, I wrote down “towel vampire”.

What the hell is a towel vampire?

Is it a vampire who only sucks towels? Why? What kind of freak just sucks towels all day? Gross. That’s even grosser than a regular vampire with the blood and all. Eww.

Perhaps it’s some sort of an invention? Like, maybe it’s a thing that sucks the moisture out of a soaked towel in an emergency, so you can immediately use it again. Actually, that’s not bad. Somebody who knows something about engineering and building stuff get on that. And cut me in on the profits, will ya? Thanks.

Anyway, that’s all I can come up with. It’s just such a weird a thing to come across. Just those two words on an otherwise blank page. No explanation, no drawing, no note saying see next page, nothing. Just “towel vampire”.

I don’t know, man. It gets weird around here.

Well. Okay. There we are. Towel vampire is now out of my head and into yours. I’m very sorry. Or you’re welcome, depending on how this lands. I’ve drawn back the curtain a bit and given you a sneak peek behind the scenes on where topics for MonDAVEs come from. I’ll go get those curtains ironed and pressed, and hang ’em back up, draw them good and tight, and I’ll see you next week.

Summer Review From The In-Between

We are now entering what I like to call The In-Between Time.

This is that time of year that’s a bit hard to define. For most Americans, Labor Day marks the unofficial end of Summer. Sure, we all know that there are technically a few more weeks on the calendar until the seasons change, and depending on where you live, a few more weeks of Summer weather as well.

It is beginning to wind down though. “Fall People” are breaking out their scarves, hats, and boots preparing for the change in the weather that isn’t coming along nearly fast enough for them, while us “Summer People” are holding on to every last bit of warmth and late sunsets we can get. Soon enough there will be leaves on the ground and pumpkin spiced everything. For now though, the kids are all back in school, the pools and snow cone stands are beginning to close, and we’re all in a holding pattern until the changes actually come. Thus, the In-Between Time.

So, even though Summer is not technically over (just practically), I’m going to take a few moments to reflect on this past Summer. Regular readers will recall that I made a list of goals back in May to accomplish this Summer. Nothing earth shaking mind you, but just a guideline as to how I wanted to spend Summer of 2023. Let’s go back and see how successful I was at reaching said goals.

Goal #1– I wanted to go walking more.
Started out well on this one, but I kind of petered out in late July/early August. Of course, this year we had both near record highs and flood level rains, but that only excuses so much. I have been doing better in the last week or two. Fortunately, going for a nice walk is just as much a Fall activity as it is a Spring or Summer one, so this can be a continuous goal.

Goal #2– I wanted to cook out more.
Again, kind of petered out in August, but I did manage to make a new recipe or two, and I got the grill back up and running this Labor Day weekend, so I’ll call this a success. Besides, there’s still time to do a few more cookouts before it gets cold. Who’s up for a brat?

Goal #3– More Family Fun Days.
Sadly, kind of a fail on this one. I had grand ideas about going to different spots around town once a week and really taking in all St. Louis has to offer. Unfortunately, life had other plans. I was still able to spend time with my kids both individually and together, so this was not a total fail, but things didn’t play out quite how I thought they would.

Goal #4-More SPORTSBALL
Okay, so I didn’t make it out to a St. Louis CITY FC soccer game like I wanted to. However, I did manage to take my son back to a Cardinals game earlier this month. They lost, but we still had fun, and great seats thanks to some last minute freebies coming in to my day job. This one’s a W.

Goal #5-Family Vacation
Check. It wasn’t as relaxing a vacation as I thought it would be, since there was way more driving involved than we originally planned, and more work and preparation than playtime. Still, I did learn that I am not a beach person so that’s something. I mean, I enjoyed the beach, but it’s not going to become my go-to vacation destination. I also got to spend some time with my cousin Terry and his family which was lovely. All in all, we managed to make some nice memories all around. Another W.

Goal #6-I wanted to just be.
The idea here was that I would slow down and just take in my surroundings this Summer, and try to feel some peace within my favorite season. Well, not so much. This Summer I lost a dog (RIP ELVIS) but gained a kitten. I ran myself ragged to the point of exhaustion more than a few times. I had a tooth pulled. I had a few doctor’s appointments that weren’t great news (nothing too serious-just getting older and more to deal with along those lines). There have been some emotional highs and lows, and a few false starts with some projects I’m working on. I’ve crashed out more than I’ve rested. In short, I’ve been too busy living the moment to be present in it. That’s something I really need to work on.

So, kind of a mixed bag in places, but I think the good has mostly outnumbered the bad this season, which just about all you can ask for. I hope you can say the same.

Okay, that’s it for this week. Thanks for reading. I’ll be back to the goofy stuff next week. Until then, take care of yourself and of one another, and I’ll see you back here next time for more MonDAVES.

Got A Story For You.

Accompany me, if you will, into the Wayback Machine as we set the controls for December of 1989. This was a time when youth culture was ruled by a few unique things. MTV was of course the biggest, bringing its three and a half minute blasts of awesomeness to fans of not only pop music, but also the emerging musical style of hip hop which was coming into its own, and the already over-saturated and doomed to be short lived genre we called “glam metal”, a true dichotomy of a genre if there ever was one. I’d liken it to a conundrum wrapped in an enigma, except for the fact that few involved with this particular style would understand what either of those words mean.

Another cultural achievement that ruled our young lives was the shopping mall, and particularly the food court. On weekends, malls would be awash with teenagers who had nothing better to do but to congregate in these special sections of malls while munching on any number of tasty yet wholly unhealthy foods, and then roaming the mall for hours, in and out of stores and the common areas until the mall closed and your parents picked you up, or if you were lucky, you got to o to the late show at the adjoining movie theater before being picked up from there.

The third in the late 80’s trinity of teenage culture was Professional Wrestling. Yes, I know, wrestling had been around long before we got hold of it (or it of us, more correctly), and it still brings in the fans today. The 1980s though, was a golden age when the… well, I hate to use the word “sport” but for lack of a better descriptor… sport went from just being popular to being absolutely huge. Professional wrestling permeated every possible corner of pop culture and made stars out of almost everyone who were featured. There were record albums, toys, movies, comic books, and even Saturday morning cartoons featuring wrestling stars. Even people who couldn’t stand to watch wrestling knew enough about it and were familiar with the wrestling stars of the day.

It is in this environment my story takes place. I was in my senior year of High School that year and quite active in the arts. This was my fourth year of being in Concert Choir, which I actually lettered in. Yeah, exactly, I didn’t know you could do that either, but there we are.

Anyway, one of the perks of being in the choir in December was that you got one day off each year for a field trip to go and sing. Sometimes we would be one of many schools featured in an all day Carol fest at our local mall. Other years, though, we went to Lambert international Airport, St. Louis, and roamed around dressed in our Choir robes, singing carols out for all to hear. I have always thought it was a nice gesture to spread some Christmas cheer to the weary traveler in the amazingly drab building that passes for an airport here in the Lou. Although in hind sight, this may have just been an excuse for our directors to get out of the classroom for the day. Either way, we were always happy to go.

So, 1989 was an airport year. We’d been dutifully roaming the halls en masse, singing carols and holiday themed songs from a small booklet we all carried with us. We would occasionally stop where we could all gather together and sing as the full Choir, and there were probably about 30 to 40 of us so this was kind of a big deal. We’d sing in several areas where people were waiting to board, in one of the many available lobbies, and especially to people who had recently departed their planes, heading for their luggage.

As I remember things, it was toward the end of the day when some passengers were coming into the terminal after just having landed. That’s when my friend James said, “Dude… that’s Flyin’ Brian.”

“What? No it’s not.” was the reply from someone else who’s name I forget at this point. Joe? Adam, maybe? Rob? I don’t remember.

“No, I think it is. WCW is in town tonight. that’s Flyin’ Brian!

“Holy crap (only he didn’t say “crap”), it is!”

Now, about this time our choir director who we’ll call Kevin, because that’s his name, was beginning to congregate the choir and move us on to our next point, which was probably to the bus home. That’s when he noticed that a small group of us were not congregating with the others and certainly not going anywhere. So he came over to hurry us along.

We were ready for him. We excitedly explained that the wrestlers were beginning to get off the plane and could we please go get some autographs, it’ll only be a minute. Being a responsible adult, he wasn’t so sure about our plan. Can’t blame him of course, since he was in charge of us numbskulls and we were about to accost total strangers who we believed to be wrestling stars.

I remember very specifically telling him that Flyin’ Brian Pillman was standing just twenty feet from us, a once in a lifetime event.

“I don’t know guys, are you sure it’s him?” asked our honorable director.

“Pretty sure it’s him…” said James, “and that THAT’S TERRY FUNK!!!”

With these words, Kevin straightened up, adjusted his tie, and walked over to Terry Funk with what can only be described as a “purpose”. One would have half expected him to go give a lecture about how he and his colleagues were ruining young minds. Then he spoke these words:

“Mr. Funk. I’d just like to say I’m a huge fan…”

And I have no idea what he said after that because IT WAS ON! We were all rushing around to talk to any wrestler getting off the plane and making them sign their autographs in our sheets of caroling music. Mr. Koontz had given us the okay, and it was the coolest thing one of my teachers had ever done (and I had a lot of cool teachers!). He only let us go for a few minutes but it was more than enough.

Remember now, we are all in our Choir robes and had just been singing about reindeers, Santa, and the baby Jesus. So as fun as this story is from our perspective, what must have it been like for these wrestlers who were just getting off the plane in yet-another-airport to go to yet-another-match in their schedule just like any other day? I can only imagine.

I don’t remember everyone who was there, I’m sure there were a few more wrestlers I am forgetting. But I do know that Flyin’ Brian was trying to hold back laughter while talking to us and signing our music sheets. I’m not sure if he thought we were the biggest dorks in the world, or if the situation was just too goofy and unexpected to be taken seriously, or both, but it was all he could do to keep it together.

We also met one of the Von Erich brothers, but I can’t for the life of me remember which one. I remember he was very nice, though a little taken aback and confused by all of this.

Pretty sure we blew Terry Funk’s mind. He kindly signed every piece of paper but seemingly couldn’t figure out what to make of these high school kids in weird black and red robes freaking out over wrestlers while others sang Christmas carols at them. It was too weird, he couldn’t process it. But he went with it, because what else could he do?

Oh yeah, that’s the other thing. There were only a handful of us doing the autograph thing. The rest of the choir continued to sing on. presumably in an effort to try and keep some decorum about all of this. Which only made it weirder.

Anyway, that’s the gist of it. The Carol sheets with the signatures are long gone now, unfortunately. They were either mistakenly thrown away when moving out of my parent’s house, or a victim of Amber, the cocker spaniel puppy who ate everything in my room from records to tee shirts to books, whatever she could get hold of. I do wish I still had it since it’s such a fun memory of a weirdo, once in a lifetime thing.

You may think it strange to be telling what is essentially a Christmas story now while it’s still Summer. Ordinarily, you would be correct, but it just so happens that Terry Funk passed away last week, so I thought this was a good time to share. While I haven’t watched wrestling on any sort of regular basis for about twenty years or so (WCW RIP) but Terry Funk was a constant back then and I remember watching several of his matches. Many of them made me happy, but none of them as much as the day I sang Christmas Carols for wrestlers.

Rest well, Mr. Funk. May the heavenly choirs sing you into the afterlife…without creepily asking for an autograph.

See you next week.

Thanks, Y’all!

So I probably should have done this quite some time ago, like maybe around post #100, but I’ve never been much of one for convention, so here we are.

I just wanted to take a minute and thank everyone who reads this blog on a regular or semi-regular basis.

I started this blog for two reasons. One was as a writing exercise to make myself produce something once a week. The other was to bring a little bit of light hearted-ness to anyone who reads. While I have gotten serious a few times here, I hope that mostly I have managed to entertain and put a smile on the face of my readers. We all need a smile from time to time, and Monday seems like a good day for it. Even if you don’t read it until later.

Anyway, it means a lot to me that there are people out there willing to read my words. The numbers change a little week to week, but there are some of you who are here each and every time. It is much appreciated.

As a creative type, I have more ideas than I can ever really find time to get to. Some will come out in one format or another, some will fade into the ether, and many will wind up in a partially realised state that will likely not see the light of day. Hopefully, when some of these projects do come to fruition, at least some of you will come along for the ride. I would love it if you did.

Still, you’re here now, and you join me here often. It is not lost on me that you actively choose to take a few minutes out of your day to check in and see what I have to say. That’s pretty dang cool of you. Know that I don’t take it for granted.

Okay. That’s it. Thanks for dropping in. Keep on coming by, and I’ll keep on doing whatever it is I do here. See you next week.

Funny Food

Two topics I haven’t tackled recently on the blog: food and Dad jokes. So, for the sake of efficiency and lack of a better idea, I now present a series of Dad jokes about food.

Bon Appetit.

-Why didn’t the green pepper take up archery?
Because he didn’t habanero.

-Did you hear about the peanut who went into space?
It was an astronut.

-I thought that onions were the only food that made me cry, until someone threw a coconut at my face.

-Did you hear the one about the guy who invented Tic Tacs?
They say he made a mint.

-How fast is milk?
It’s pasteurized before you know it.

-The Dalai Lama walks into a pizza shop and says, “Can you make me one with everything?”

-I lost my pizza cutter, so I used a Bryan Adams CD. It cuts like a knife.

-Did you hear about the explosion at the French cheese factory?
All that was left was De Brie.

-Why do watermelons have fancy weddings?
Because they cantaloupe.

-What kind of food does Icarus hate?
Hot wings.

-What kind of vegetable is only a little cool?
A rad-ish.

-How do you invite a dinosaur for lunch?
Tea, Rex?

-What’s a vegetarian’s worst nightmare?
Being stuck alone on a desert island and not being able to tell anyone they’re a vegetarian.

-I wrote a song about a tortilla. Well actually, it’s more of a wrap.

-What do you do when life gives you melons?
See a doctor, you may be dyslexic.

Alright, that’s enough of this silliness for today. I’ll be back soon with more stuff. Until then, remember tis old saying:

Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.

See you next week.