BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

I know a lot of Wendys…

I realize that’s kind of odd, but throughout my life I have come to know several Wendys. Or, in one case, Wendi. There’s also Wendie, as in Wendie Malick, but I don’t actually know her. I’ve just seen her on TV, so she really doesn’t count.

And, these Wendys are all across the board as to personalities and professions. There’s a blond Wendy who was a Flight Attendant for TWA – remember them? TWA, I mean, not Flight Attendants. Although, I could certainly wax nostalgic about how Flight Attendants used to be Flight Attendants, and not psychopathic hall monitors who seem to think they are Air Marshals. In any event, I have no idea what TWA Wendy is doing these days. I haven’t seen her in years, but I did use to joke with her quite a bit and call her an Airborne Waitress. Fortunately, she had a good sense of humor about it.

Then there’s small Wendy. I have no idea what she is doing, or what she grew up to be. I met her shortly after I graduated high school. My dad and I went on a hiking trip in Colorado, and we had set up camp in a public – but little used – camping area halfway up a pass in the Rockies. Small Wendy and her parents were camping in the same area, albeit several sites over. She developed a crush on me because she thought I looked like John Denver, and would come over to our campsite whenever she saw us out and about. Her parents even sent her over with leftovers from their dinner – they had an RV with a kitchen – because they felt sorry for us having to eat freeze dried rations.

And, there’s “Mistress Wendi”. That’s where the Wendi with an”i” shows up. That’s not her real name… Well… Not when she’s just being her normal self. It’s more of a moniker attached to the alter ego of a friend. Based on the honorific I’m sure you can figure out what she does for fun. We’ve been friends forever, and she was an invaluable source of info when I was researching the Miranda novels.

There are others, but I don’t want to bore you too much. I mean, all I am doing is rambling about women named Wendy. There was, however, a particular Wendy in my life who wasn’t exactly a friend. She also wasn’t exactly an enemy. She was, for lack of a better description, a thorn in my ass. I have no clue what happened to her, but I think of her often, believe it or not. Well, maybe not often as in often. More like whenever I am startled by something and jump out of my skin.

I was all prepared to write the story of why this happens to be when I received notice that one of my recent workshops, which had been videotaped at an event, was now online. I was watching it to see how it came out and lo and behold, there I was, right there on the screen telling the story about this particular Wendy in order to illustrate a point. So, rather than toss a whole ‘nother mess of words out there, here it is, from my lips to your ears.

(Video Courtesy of Spiraling Up Video Productions)

Moral of the story?

Don’t let your guard down around anyone named Wendy. Especially if she has a roll of Scotch Tape in hand…

More to come…

Murv

Disclaimers… We’ve all seen and heard them. We’ve all sat back and wondered at the stupidity of people who sue over hot coffee because they hadn’t been told that the hot coffee was hot. Even worse, the stupidity of the jurors in the trial who saw fit to judge in favor of the idiot who didn’t know hot coffee would be… well… HOT.

Then there are the disclaimers we just sort of wonder about, because otherwise we would just burst into uncontrolled laughter… Of course, sometimes we do anyway… You know the ones I mean. “DO NOT USE IN SHOWER” emblazoned across the label on a portable electric hand mixer, as if I might happen to be mixing up some cake batter while I’m washing my hair. Of course, I suppose there could be all manner of kinky ramifications there, but I don’t want to think about that. It makes me feel all kinds of dirty. Even in the shower.

The thing is, you just KNOW they had to put that on there because some frootloop decided it would be a good idea to attach a Loofah to the beaters and use the mixer as a power exfoliation device in the shower. Hence, the disclaimer. What it should REALLY say is, “We know you’re an idiot, here’s your Darwin Award (Posthumously, of course).”

But then, there are those disclaimers that really are necessary. I mean the kind where a boatload of common sense might get you through, but for a multitude of reasons you cannot depend upon Sherlockian Common Sense to be in play. And, there are even those times when people truly have no clue what to expect, therefore a disclaimer is in order.

That’s why I have several. You can see one of them just to the left beneath my picture. It is there to let you know that this is a satire blog and taking it seriously, unless a particular post is labeled as serious, makes you not particularly savvy. After all, it says it right there…

I should make note, however, that among my disclaimers, none of them say “contents hot.” That would be EKay’s disclaimer, (along with may bite, prone to random acts of beating you severely, failure to bow and worship will result in extreme punishment, etc…) – There IS a “contents MAY be hot” in the footer of the blog, but note that it says MAY BE. It pretty much refers to posts where E K is involved…

But let’s get back to me. After all, it’s my blog, not hers… Well… Okay, I just use it… Don’t tell her I said that it was mine, okay? So… anyway… Among my disclaimers is one that I rattle off at the beginning of every workshop I present while at an event or bookstore. If you’ve ever attended one of my seminars it is highly likely you have heard some version of it. I usually ask who hasn’t heard it, but even if I get no hands raised I recite it anyway. It’s just safer for all involved.

So, just for drill, here is my workshop/seminar disclaimer. If you ever attend one of my workshops – not panels, mind you, those are different (although I sometimes work it in) – you will hear this, or the version of it that is current for that moment…

M. R. SELLARS’ DISCLAIMER

First off, I am a fiction author. This means I lie for a living. It’s what I get paid to do. Think about that… Okay, now that you’ve given it some thought, I’ll explain further – I write FICTION. What this means is that 99% of what I am about to say to you is probably bullshit. I’m making it up as I go along. My one goal here is to entertain you for the next 90 minutes and keep you occupied so that the staff of this event can finish preparing lunch [dinner, setting up XYZ, insert function here]. If you plan on taking notes, feel free. Just know that you are most likely transcribing fiction.

Second – I am irreverent.  I am also foul-mouthed when necessary. I know cuss words in several languages and I am not afraid to use them. In fact, they will sometimes just randomly fall out of my mouth, especially if you startle me. If you think this is going to offend you to the point where it is going to ruin your whole day, do us both a favor- get up and leave now. Regarding those last two points – If you sit through my entire workshop after having heard this disclaimer, then go to the event organizer and complain that I have ruined your whole day, I will find you. I don’t think I need to say anymore. Just know that I will find you. So you need to ask yourself if you really want to take that chance. I mean, after all, I warned you. If you get offended it’s your fault now, not mine. As to getting up and leaving, if you elect to do so AFTER I begin the actual workshop, I will make fun of you. The only exceptions to that rule are true medical emergencies. Needing to take a piss because you drank 14 cups of coffee and didn’t make a pit stop before coming in here does NOT qualify.

Third – I tend to not stand still and I talk with my hands. I will likely be right out in the middle of the crowd with you, as well as bouncing around the stage. This is how I get my exercise.

Fourth – I am an interactive speaker. What this means is that at times during this workshop/seminar, depending upon the topic, I am likely to ask you, as a group, a question. If I do this, I expect an answer. Allow me to clarify – I want the answer now. As in during the actual workshop. I do not want you to go home, ruminate about it for two weeks, and then email me an answer. At that point the workshop is over and it does none of us any good. If you don’t answer me at all, understand that I will just make up some more shit and say that you said it.

Fifth – During the next 90 minutes [120 min, 60 min, ??] I will say things that I personally think are funny. I expect you to think they are funny too. If I say something that I find funny and you don’t laugh, I will repeat it. That is your cue. Be on the lookout for it. Why? Because if you don’t laugh when I repeat it, I will then explain it. Believe me, you do NOT want to get as far as me explaining my jokes.

Okay, now that I have that out of the way, are we all in agreement? If not, this is your chance to leave unscathed…

I realize that there are some folks out there who are going to read this and be highly offended. They are going to think that I am a big asshole, probably because it is hard to impart the comic timing of the verbal delivery of this disclaimer via the written word in a short space like a blog. However, there are people who get offended by it in person too, and storm out of my workshop/seminar space in a huff…

You know what? They weren’t going to find me all that entertaining anyway so it’s just as well. I think that’s why their faces are all pinched up and pouty. Or I supposed it could be that they eschew disclaimers, and they are all pinched up and pouty because they take Preparation H orally…

Either way, I’m sure they’ll be picking up their Darwin Awards soon enough…

More to come…

Murv