BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Well, I suppose that as far as the Chinese food goes it is really about as Chinese as La Choy beef Chow Mein in a can. You know, the Chow Mein you serve with the deep fried noodle things that everyone ends up dipping in chocolate and calling them cookies around the holidays. Yeah, that La Choy. As a matter of fact, I seem to recall their old commercial jingle saying, “La Choy makes Chinese food, swing American!” That was back in the 60’s and 70’s… Yeah, I’m kinda middle aged, don’t remind me. At any rate, with a catch phrase like that, it doesn’t sound all that Chinese I don’t guess. Kinda more Ameri-Asian fusion cuisine. “If you can call Chow Mein from a can cuisine,” I can hear EK saying even as I type. You see, she doesn’t really care for La Choy Chow Mein or any of their other canned meals for that matter. I think it has something to do with having it too often as a child or something. She’s never been very specific about that. She just sort of glazes over and makes her “bleh” face, so I kinda just don’t press the subject.

Me, on the other hand, I happen to like the stuff. Not as a regular diet sort of thing, but every now and then I like to grab a can just for the sake of nostalgia. Kinda like the peanut butter ‘n jelly sammich thing, or egg nog, or even my own personal version of the Saint Paul Sandwich…

But, then, I’m not here to talk to you about La Choy, or any of their products. Funny how I can sometimes digress before I even get started. I should probably see someone about that. Or not.

Anyway, let’s get down to brass tacks. Or “Forever Stamps”, or Postal Workers, or whatever…

You see, I received some snail mail yesterday. I know, seems somewhat antiquated doesn’t it? (Don’t tell my neighbor I said that. He’s a Postal Carrier)… But, even I have to admit, there are still things snail mail is good for. Christmas Cards for one. Checks for another. Well… Checks are pretty much the most important one when you get right down to it, but either way, let’s not get off track yet again. The long and short of it was that I went to the mailbox and there was a number 10 envelope, addressed quite simply to “Sellars”.

Not Murv Sellars. Not Mr. Sellars. Not M. R. Sellars. Not even to Rusty Sellars (long story – since my middle name is Russell and I am a Jr., when I was a kid my dad was Russell and I was Rusty. My name “changed” to Murv when I came into my “own” identity when I hit my early teens, just like every other adolescent child does at that age.)

No, this bit of snail mail was addressed to no one other than simply, “Sellars”.

Some of you may think this odd. Then again, maybe you don’t. I’m not there with you to look inside your ear and see what the gears and cogs are doing. But, suffice it to say, I didn’t find it all that peculiar myself. You see, there are a pretty healthy number of people on the planet who refer to me simply as “Sellars”… In fact, I believe some of you blog readers are among them. I blame Morrison for that, but as I tend to say often, that’s another blog…

However, as far as snail mail goes, there is but one individual (thus far) who sends anything to my house addressed simply to “Sellars”. Even Morrison herself addresses things to M. R. Sellars. Therefore, I didn’t even have to look at the return address to know that I had just received something from Dorothy Morrison’s husband, Mark.

Now, Mark and I are friends. He’s a hell of a guy. Funny, intelligent, not to mention that he’s married to my best friend. I’ve downed several drinks with him, watched Presidential debates with him, and generally just hung out. I love the guy dearly. But, we aren’t exactly what you would call pen pals. If he has something to tell me, he drops me an email. So, if I receive something in the SNAIL mail from him, even though it is addressed to “Sellars”, I know that it isn’t actually for me. It’s for my daughter.

Having a bit of trouble following that one? Well, let me see if I can explain.

You see, like many grammar school children across the United States, my daughter collects “Boxtops For Education” and takes them to school. Now, I’ll admit that I don’t always cook from scratch. I actually do buy a few boxes of burger helper now and again, and the munchkin also likes “Lucky Charms”, which is a General Mills product (creators and purveyors of the Boxtops for Edu program)… So, we do manage to collect our share of these School Funding Gems. But, not a ton of them. (I know, I know, get to the point…) Well, you see, I happened to mention this in passing when Morrison and I were on tour a couple of years back, because we do try to nab boxtops from folks we know who might be unaware and simply throwing them away. And, as it happens, Mark took this to heart. He began collecting boxtops for our munchkin’. In fact, not only does he collect them, he doesn’t even wait for the package of whatever foodstuff to be used first. He goes through with a razor blade and pre-emptively removes the Boxtops for Education seal so that it won’t accidentally end up in the trash. Then, once his “boxtops dish” on the counter is full he pours them into an envelope and mails them to, “Sellars”.

Now, there was once this faux pas where when he poured the boxtops into the envelope the razor blade – still ensconced in its little cardboard sheath – unknowingly made it into the envelope as well. We’ve had plenty of fun with that one. In fact, I still have it sitting here on my desk. Maybe I’ll have it bronzed for him and put it on a plaque… anyone know what it would cost to have a single edge razor blade bronzed and mounted? (Yeah, there I go digressing again…)

So, back to the story. What it comes down to is that once again, Mark came through with a load of Boxtops for Education. Not only is this good for the school because they turn them in to General Mills for money, which in turn helps them do things like build a new Gymnasium, or get more books, and what have you, but it is also good for the kids. Why? Because they benefit from the books, new Gym, etc, obviously. But, it is also great for my kid on yet another front. Not only does she reap the educational benefit, but since they run a bit of a Boxtops for Education contest at her school, it helps her numbers. In fact, last year she turned in so many boxtops that she won this Gi-Hugic blue dolphin stuffed animal (the school mascot)…

BTW, if you don’t have kids, or don’t happen to know any kids who need Boxtops for Education, and you are merely tossing them in the trash, I’ll gladly give you my PO Box address and you can send them to “Sellars” just like Mark does. (Please DO NOT send razor blades…) Just think, the munchkin might win another blue dolphin. If she keeps it up, she might end up with a whole pod…

So…That pretty much covers snail mail and boxtops. I’m sure you are now thinking, “Yeah, okay, so what about the Chinese food, because you said you weren’t here to talk about La Choy…”

Well… You’re right about that. La Choy isn’t the Chinese food you’re looking for… Move along… (sorry, Obi-wan… Just couldn’t help myself…)

Anyway, I suppose I should explain the Chinese food reference in the blog title. You see, it has to do with Spam™…

Okay, so did anyone hurt his or her neck with the whole snapping back of the head in a major WTF moment? I hope not, because I don’t have insurance on this blog…

Yeah. Spam™… You see, I’ve never made a secret of my love for Spam™…and it’s equally tasty and much less expensive twin, Treet™. In fact, ever since my Spam™/Treet™ blog some time ago, I have been treated (pun most certainly intended) to fried Spam™ for breakfasts at various events and bookstores where I have been booked for a signing. I’ve had Spam™ sandwiches for lunch. Spam™ in salads. I mean, it’s been downright wonderful, because yes, I really do like Spam™. But, as you can imagine, (as you might be one of these folks of whom I speak) many people find this little culinary quirk of mine endlessly amusing. In fact, some of the times I have been served Spam™ at events it has been as a joke. Well, I have to tell you, that’s my kind of joke so keep on joking and laughing folks. I’m all about it… (Grin)

Anyway, among the folks who find this amusing are Morrison and her husband Mark.

“But, Sellars, just what in the holy hell does this have to do with Chinese food,” you ask, with a befuddled and somewhat annoyed expression creasing your features.

So glad you asked…

You see, this time, instead of just Boxtops arriving in the mail for my daughter, there actually WAS something in the envelope for me. No, it wasn’t another razor blade… Actually it was a recipe, clipped from the newspaper.

A recipe for Spam™ Fried Rice.

Really. I kid you not.

And, just in case you think I am making this up, here is a picture of the actual and very real newspaper clipping…

Thanks, Mark. I can’t wait to try it out… In fact, I have a can of Treet™ sitting in the cupboard right now, and I’m sure the author of the recipe won’t mind the substitution since those tasty, rectangular can shaped blocks of chicken and pork leavin’s are completely interchangeable.

And, you know…just for nostalgia’s sake, I think I’ll use La Choy soy sauce…

More to come…

Murv

You know, the rumor mill seems to be getting more activity than my coffee grinder…What’s up with that?

So, anyway, I am back from Nashville, which was my last gig for the year. I had a blast, as usual, but I’m glad it’s over and I get to stay home with the Evil One and the Offspring for a while. But, while in Nashville, I was enlightened as to some of the rumors circulating about me. For fun, I thought I’d address the ones I was told here in this blog-

1. M. R. Sellars is tall.

I suppose that would depend upon your perspective. I’m 5′ 7″…Or, I used to be. I’ve probably shrunk a bit over the years. In any case, I think that probably qualifies as average height, not tall.

2. M. R. Sellars is blonde.

Look at my picture. Do I look blonde to you? Maybe WAYYYYYYY back when I was a teenager, but that was only for one summer and was the result of spending all day in/at the pool along with the help of a 70’s era hair product called “Sun In” (Yes, it was intended to gradually bleach your hair.) Other than that, the closest I’ve ever been to blonde would probably be when I was like two or something, but even then we were talking light to medium brown, not blonde.

3. M. R. Sellars is gay.

I assume the meaning here is as in homosexual, and not the colloquial “gay = strange”…Or, even the standard “overjoyed”…Well, actually, no. I’m not. I’m heterosexual, i.e. straight. Always have been, no plans to change either.

4. M. R. Sellars is bi.

See answer to rumor 3.

And, my personal favorite…

5. M. R. Sellars attended a BDSM con in Atlanta, GA and scored with the babes.

Okay, how substantiated this particular rumor is, I have no idea, but I was informed that it had been a topic of discussion on some lists. Not lists that I am on, so who knows. Either way, let’s lay out some facts here:

A. I haven’t attended ANY BDSM Conventions at all, much less any in Atlanta. This is not to say that I wouldn’t or won’t, especially since the Miranda Trilogy would do well there, but as yet, I haven’t done a promo appearance at such a convention. (I also haven’t attended one for pleasure either.)

B. I am MONOGAMOUS and have a smokin’ hot wife. (Remember EK?) So, even if I were to attend such an event I would not be scoring with anyone but the redhead known as EK.

C. Apparently, from what I am told, the tall and blonde rumors are subsets of this particular rumor.

So, apparently from what I was told some tall, blonde dude went around saying he was me in order to score.

Dude…come on…You can’t score on your own? More importantly, you can’t pick someone who is a closer physical match to you, especially given that a simple Google search of my name will reveal a gazillion pictures that would instantly disprove your claim? Obviously you are taking the line from that Sean Connery movie WAY TOO seriously… I hate to tell you this but that was just a movie– women will NOT sleep with you just because you wrote a book.

So, all I can say is that if you did manage to score by using my name, well…Good on ya’.

But, really, if the truth be told, if you did, I hope she was a Dom and when she figured out you were lying about who you were she beat the living snot out of you (not in the good way, more like in the Miranda way) then left you tied up in a closet in a hotel room with the do not disturb sign on the door so you could spend a little time ruminating over your overt stupidity for a day or two.

Yeah, that translates into, “Get a life and stop using my name for your own personal gain, you fruitloop.”

So, there you have it…Other than the ages old rumor that I’m dead, which for some reason seems to resurface every now and then, those are the latest…To recap, I’m not tall, not blonde, not gay, not bi, and have not attended a BDSM convention for business (or pleasure), and therefore, you have NOT slept with me.

More to come…

Murv