BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

If this blog post seems a bit odd – as if I am not entirely sure to whom I am speaking – well, there’s a reason for that.  I am actually posting it in two platforms. Depending upon where you happen to have your browser pointed while reading this will determine your next choice.

Choose one:

• Here, on the fresh, new, WordPress incarnation of Brainpan Leakage, and over yonder on the old, rickety, Myspace version.
• Here on the old, rickety, Myspace incarnation of Brainpan Leakage and over yonder on the fresh, new, WordPress version.

Okay, now that we have the flowchart crap out of the way, let’s get down to business.

Some of you might be wondering about my decision to move my blog, so rather than field questions in email, I have elected to be preemptive about it and give you an explanation here.  First off,  given some of the email I have already received, I suspect I need to run down some of the basic points:

1. I will no longer be posting full-fledged blog entries on Myspace after the one you are currently reading. All of my blogging will be done via the new WordPress interface, and you can easily subscribe to it by surfing yourself over to www.mrsellars.com/mrblog
2. My Myspace page is not going to go away. Well, let me qualify that – I am not going to make it go away. If Tom hits the wrong key on his keyboard while adding a new video and accidentally tosses my page into the void, well, there’s not a whole lot I can do about that. Talk to him.
3. There will still be something resembling posts on my Myspace blog. Kinda… As I said in point number 1, they will NOT be full blown blog entries. What they will be is a snippet of text combined with a link to the WordPress blog entry. They will show up as a title in the blog listing, just like normal. An example of this is the entry just prior to this one, entitled Day-Jah-Voooo. Some of you have already discovered this and made your way over to the new blog.
4. It is up to you. The blog entries can still be read by going through Mysapce, dinking around with their link security, and ending up at the new blog. This, however, does add steps for you. It would probably be easier to simply subscribe to the new version and avoid the hassle. But, like I said, that is entirely up to you.

Now, I suppose I should address the burning question: Why the move?

Simple really. In fact, the title of this blog entry says it all. But, to take that compressed, dessicated gist of the answer and reconstitute it, I will borrow – and paraphrase – a Dr. Harold W. Smith line from the movie Remo Williams: The Adventure Begins…

“Myspace is a great social networking tool, my boy, but its blog interface doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to…”

Truth is, paraphrased or no, that may not be entirely accurate. The Myspace  Blog Interface might just work EXACTLY the way it is supposed to. However, the fact remains that it doesn’t work very effectively. In fact, it just plain sucks. While you are all probably well aware of this, I shall endeavor to explain anyway…

It all began a tad over two years ago when I started blogging in November of 2006. That is when I was dragged, kicking and screaming, into having a Myspace page to begin with.  I have yet to forgive either of my publicists for that, even though it was an incredibly wise and smart decision for them to knock me over the head and deposit me there/here (choose one). They often make wise decisions on my behalf, then force me to become involved whether I like it or not. That’s just how they are. And, while what they do is good for my career as an author, I can still hold a grudge like a cat who just got a bath.

But, I guess I am doing that digressing thing again…

So, anyway, while there have been many, many blog entries in the original incarnation of Brainpan Leakage, what you, the readers can’t possibly know, is that you have missed probably an equal number of entries that never made it to the screen. Why? See the above opinion about the state of the Myspace Blog Interface (or perhaps it would be easier to call it, the MBI).

In a nutshell, the MBI has unceremoniously gone into la-la land when I have tried to post entries, sending whatever inane ramblings I had just typed into the ether, never to be seen again. On other occasions, it has suddenly wiped the screen free of those nasty, annoying words right in the middle of me typing them – usually when I am about 3/4 of the way through with the entry. Given that typing is a big part of how I make my living, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t me that caused the sudden disappearance. I actually do know my way around a keyboard…

Now, I thought maybe I could circumvent this whole vanishing issue by typing my blogs in Word, or even notepad, then cutting and pasting. Well, that didn’t work out so good. You see, our friends at Microsquish love to embed control codes. The Myspace blog interface is not set up to handle them, and unfortunately no amount of editing – via wysiwyg or html – will allow you to remove them completely. They just keep reappearing and making the text of the blog go all fribble-dee-frabbit. (Yes, sometimes I make up my own words.)

On top of all that, even if you make the blog publically viewable, there are a ton of folks who A) Avoid Myspace like the plague under any and all circumstances or B) Don’t know that you don’t have to have a Myspace account to see a publically viewable blog, and therefore resort to option A.

The last straw, the one that broke the proverbial camel’s back, came just a few days ago when I typed in about 75% of a blog and it suddenly went poof right before my eyes. It was a long blog, but it was one that might well have entertained folks. It was yet another rambling about a clacking domino inside my head as my brain endeavors to download all of the memories I have stored there over my almost half century of existence. But the operative points here are long, 75% finished, and poof.

I was, to say the least, pissed. My calm was damaged. I said many very nasty words, more than once, and aloud. Loud aloud. I think I might have even called Tom a big doody head, what with him being the Myspace ambassador and all.

I suppose I could have spent time retyping it, which probably would have been more entertaining than what you are reading right now, but I didn’t. Instead, I opted to spend that time, plus a little more, to find a better way, in order that my calm no longer be in danger of getting damaged, and Tom could go on about his business without wondering if I was calling him names behind his back.

And, I believe I found one…

My new blog interface is extremely robust. It has autosaved drafts, so there’s no more silly losing of blog entries going on. It is incredibly customizable with widgets, skins, features, and has amazing editability. It is accessible by EVERYONE with an internet connection. It allows for not only common tags but customizable tags as well. There are pingbacks, feeburns, remarkable handling of images and links, notification emails, an easy to navigate dashboard… I could go on and on…and on some more after that…

Yeah, just slap a red wig and some high heels on it and I would marry the damn thing, I’m so in love with it…

And so, there you have it. I’m having an illicit affair with a piece of software. Don’t tell EK.

So, back to the slightly serious… I have now officially “migrated” all of the blog entries from the Myspace version, starting at the beginning posts from November 2006. Well, not ALL… Just the entries with good, timeless content, which worked out to somewhere around 3/4 of them. The rest were contest announcements and such which were dated and weren’t really worth  the time and effort to bother moving.

Hopefully, that answers the question(s). If it doesn’t, well, I am certain I will hear from you.

Okay… Now that the explaining is over I am going to go play with the dominos and see what kind of leak they manage to create this time…

More to come…

Murv

Well, to some extent they go hand in hand. Love, lust, and all points in between. You start out in lust and as you get to know one another the lust becomes love, and if you are lucky, they blend together to become this Love/Lust amalgam that carries on throughout your relationship and/or marriage.

But, before you get all excited or start calling me Doctor Phil, I should point out that I’m actually here to talk to you about dominos again. And, no, still not the pizza.

You see, I’ve been married to EK now for Twen-koff-koff yea-koff…Okay…for real, 21+ years, and we “co-habitated” for a year prior to that. So, we’ve been ’round the block in the ol’ Radio Flyer a couple of times – always with me pulling as she beats me with a buggy whip and screams “faster, faster…watch out for that crack in the sidewalk…slow down…careful around that turn…faster, faster!” But, as usual, that’s one of those “other” blogs (actually, they probably wouldn’t even let me post it here…but I digress…)

My point being, I’m no stranger to the relationship game, marriage game, whatever… Now, let’s be clear. I am in no way claiming to have all the answers. Hell, I don’t have ANY of the answers. I just pull the wagon and do what I’m told. I’m merely pointing out that I do have at least a passing familiarity with interpersonal relationships between two folks who make up a couple.

Since the EK and I have been together for better than two decades, just like any other couple we have settled into some behavioral patterns. This is not to say that love and lust are gone. The love is there stronger than it was in the beginning, and growing daily. Lust…well…can’t really get into that here (LOL)… But, like I said, as with any couple, patterns will emerge. Ways of interacting. It’s just all part of life. Therefore, a half hour or so ago when I nonchalantly and jokingly said to my wife, “what are you making for dinner tonight?” her response came as no surprise, and the dominos began to teeter…

I suppose you might need a bit of background first…You see, my wife almost never makes dinner. In fact, whenever I go on tour for a week or two at a time, I spend the week prior to my departure working in the kitchen – cooking, packaging, and freezing meals in reusable “freezer to microwave” containers so that I know she and my daughter will eat something other than crackers and yogurt. It’s not that she’s lazy. She’s about as far from lazy as you can get… Hell, I wish I had her energy… It is just that she really dislikes cooking. With a passion it seems. Me, on the other hand, having grown up in a family with diners and restaurants, I absolutely love to cook. So, this makes at least part of the division of labor in our home a no brainer. Put simply, the kitchen is my domain.

But, like I said at the outset, there are dominos involved here, and again, I’m not talking about pizza…even though we are on the subject of food.

To inspect this particular dot-covered game piece we have to turn back the clock to a time EARLY in our marriage. Back when, even though we had dated for some time, then cohabitated for an entire year, and then even been legally married in the eyes of the law for a couple more years, we were still in that state of semi-honeymoon. Not the face-sucking-sex-in-every-room-with-reckless-abandon phase, mind you. Just the hyperactive love-lust combination where you want to impress your partner because you love them so much – and again, I want to be clear on this impressing thing – I’m not talking about dressing up in a negligee and posing next to the bedroom door while batting eyelashes (come to think of it, that’s a pretty good domino too, but I probably wouldn’t fit in that negligee anymore…just kidding… I mean just kidding about the negilgee, not the fitting into it part… you know what I mean…dammit, I’ve never owned a negligee, so just stop it!)

Back to the story… sheesh…ya’ bunch of weirdos…

So, in this particular instance we are talking about dinner. You see, way back when, during the days of hyperlovelustwhatever, the evil redhead decided to make dinner. (They “make” dinner here in the north, as opposed to fixing dinner, like it’s supposed to be done) Now, not being a big fan of the kitchen she wasn’t about to get herself into a major project (I’d like to take a moment to point out that it isn’t that she can’t cook, because she can. It’s simply that she hates cooking.) But still, she intended to “make” dinner. And, so she did. Cheesy tuna and noodles Tuna Helper^TM. Now, before you think I am about to complain, guess again. I happen to like tuna casserole, and mac n’ cheese, and yes, cheesy tuna and noodles. It was all good.

So, my lovely bride served up a big, steaming dish of Tuna Helper^TM, happy with herself and confident in the fact that she had done something nice for me that I would appreciate. And, I did. Harboring the same hyperlovelustwhatever as she, I sat at the table and shoveled in the Tuna Helper^TM while smiling and telling her how wonderful it was, as well as how much I appreciated her fixing dinner. In fact, I was so overwhelmed with hyperlovelustwhatever that I didn’t even hint at the fact that there was something terribly, and fundamentally wrong with the meal. Not something that would make you ill, mind you, but something fundamentally wrong, nonetheless, given what it was supposed to be. The meal went on, the dishes were washed, and well, I can’t really remember what else happened that night, but I suspect that since we were working on remodeling the house at the time we were probably both exhaused and just went to bed then straight to sleep – none of the “not so blog safe” material to worry about this time.

So, everything was good. I had done my duty and nothing need ever be said about the problem with the meal. The EK was happy, I was happy, and even the cats were as happy as cats can be.

The next day, however, it became apparent that my plan to protect the evil redhead from personal embarrassment had gone terribly awry. At this point I cannot remember exactly what I was doing at the moment of realization. I do, however, have vivid recollection of EK walking into the room with an unopened can of tuna in her hand, which she had found sitting on the kitchen counter right where she had left it the night before. With a look of realization flooding her face, she stared at me and stated, as much as asked, complete with a matter-of-fact incredulity, “I forgot to put the tuna in the Tuna Helper last night, didn’t I?”

I could not tell a lie, but I also didn’t want to add insult to injury. I simply replied, “No worries. It was really good macaroni and cheese.”

The domino in this case? Well, it didn’t have to knock much over. You see, this afternoon when I jokingly asked my wife what she would be “making” for dinner, without missing a beat she replied, “Hamburger Helper without the hamburger.”

We’re older now, and while we still have that hyperlovelustwhatever thing going on, I’ve learned I don’t really have to suffer (unless I want to, that is, but again, different blog…)

I think I’ll just go ahead and “make” dinner tonight.

More to come…

Murv