BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

So, the other day I posted a Facebook status update that seemed to spark a small firestorm. Well, maybe not a firestorm. Maybe just a box of strike anywhere matches. A lot of flame, really fast, but then sorta gone unless it gets fuel.

Anywho, here’s the stat update:

The overall gist of the flaming box-o-matches came in the form of several “What?”, “Huh?”, and “Say it ain’t so!” sorts of comments. There were also a few direct email type communications taking me to task for being a big doody-head, all because I apparently OWE everyone. However, I pretty much ignored those. The real reason I am writing this blog is to address the “What?” and “Huh?” comments that came from people who either didn’t understand what I was saying, or in some cases, who completely misinterpreted what I was saying.

So here’s the deal: I’m not deleting my Facebook account. That would just be all kinds of stupid, now wouldn’t it? I’m also NOT going to stop writing. Not yet anyway. I suspect I will eventually, but by then I expect to be dead.

All I was trying to say is that I am NOT going to be putting a huge amount of effort into being the online entertainment for everyone on my “friends” list.

Why?

Well, there are various reasons, but let’s start with this: I didn’t join Facebook to play Farmville, Mafia Wars, Befuddled Blatz, or any of that other crap. I joined it as a marketing tool. (GASP!) Yes. I am on Facebook to advertise myself and my books. Not to play games. Not to add as many people to my “friends list” as possible. Not to “be virtually social.”

Now, I will grant you that I DO use Facebook to stay in touch with out-of-town friends, and even some in-town friends. I’ve even used it to reconnect with some family, but let’s face it – 2300+ friends? I don’t think so. Hell, I don’t even know 2300 people. Therefore, we obviously have a situation there, and that situation is that the vast majority of the people on my friends list are actually fans. Nothing wrong with that. Not complaining. Simply illustrating the fact that I am on Facebook to MARKET and ADVERTISE.

And that is what I have been doing. That is exactly what the “Punny Floor Show” has been. Me entertaining people in order to raise “brand awareness.” However, as we know with any commercial on television, or billboard on the highway, eventually an ad campaign wanes in effectiveness. If it didn’t then Black and White Speedy Alka-Seltzer commercials would still be gracing our screens.

So there you have it. Me putting on the pun hat and getting myself a nasty case of swamp ass daily, all in order to raise brand awareness worked for a while. Now it doesn’t anymore. Sure, there are folks who are entertained by the interaction, but it isn’t selling books. In fact, what eventually happened is that I began getting more and more friend requests from people who just wanted to watch the show, but didn’t want to pay the cover charge (i.e. visit a bookstore and buy a book or two. Moreover, a good number of them even claimed that they didn’t like to read and gave me grief over updates that mentioned my books. All they wanted was for me to be funny and entertaining. For free. I’m still trying to figure out how that translates into Ramen Noodles for Murv. My guess is that these folks are related to the people who download music, books, and movies from Torrent sites because they are entitled to them.)

So, maybe this makes me a big asshole. Maybe it doesn’t. The point is, I’m not leaving Facebook. I’m just not going to waste my time behind the keyboard playing the online clown when it is no longer an effective marketing tool.

Yeah, I know, me being pragmatic. Weird. Didn’t even know I had it in me, did you?

More to come…

Murv

Allow me to quell your fears. This blog entry isn’t about what your dirty little minds think it’s about.  So there.

 Now, on with the story…

It was a weekend just like any other weekend, with the exception perhaps that it was Fourth of July weekend. However, since July 4th has absolutely no bearing whatsoever on this tale, we’ll stick with, “It was a weekend just like any other weekend.” All good? Terrific…

On this particular weekend like any other weekend I had been doing elebenty-gazillion loads of laundry just like any other weekend. However, I was finished with laundry, so I don’t guess it has any real bearing either, other than the fact that I had “specially washed” one of the O-springs garments sans fabric softener because she was on a mission to dye it a different color. Of course, what with the spring being a little to the young side for handling stuff like dye and hot water without dying the whole room, adult supervision was needed.

For the record, E K has me doing the laundry, but I don’t dye. Allowing me to dye something would be tantamount to allowing the o-spring to dye something without supervision.

Anywho… On this particular weekend we had also purchased a new computer for E K. Super fast, loaded with memory, storage, and all housed in a black case to match her shoes and leather wear. E K likes to coordinate, you see. Therefore, we were in the office. I was busily doing whatever it is that writers do when they are working on 57 projects at once. E K was playing Speed Sudoku… Or HALO 17: The Leather-Clad Bitch Edition… Or  hacking NORAD… Or maybe it was paying bills and checking her Facebook profile. I never can keep any of that straight. Either way, we were engaged in office type computer activities, and the spring was watching the toob — that is, right up until her program ended and she had a sudden, powerful desire to dye the aforementioned garment.

No… She didn’t try to do it herself. That would be way too predictable… Come on… You know me better than that…

Acquiescing to the Tween Urgency of the project, E K sent the child on a mission. That being to go into the basement and retrieve the large bucket we use for whatever sorts of things one might require a large bucket. And so, off the o-spring went to “haz a bukkit.”

Two minutes, seventeen seconds elapsed when we suddenly heard a door fly open, followed by a running child – the herd of elephants noise was then followed up by a herd of wildebeests bounding up the stairs toward the office. The louvered doors split, swinging inward with enough force to cause a sonic boom. The silence in the wake of the sound barrier being broken was quickly filled with a panting child.

Gasping for breath she yipped, “OhMyGoshIt’sHUGE!!”

I remained silent. I knew better than to get involved.

“The bucket?” E K asked.

“Nothuhbuuug!” Child-o-mine replied.

E K puzzled aloud, “The what?”

Our tween panted some more, then gulped in some air and yelped, “There’sAGiantBugDownThere!”

E K found this to be funny. So did I. But that’s not the funny part I’m here to tell you about.

So… E K says to the spring, “How big is this bug?”

“OMGIT’SHUGE!” the kid replies.

“Really?” E K says.

“YES!” the wild-eyed child tells her.

“It’s been raining,” the redhead explained. “It’s probably just a water bug.”

You see, our basement is an unfinished, leaky, storage/laundry hole in the ground. Whenever it rains, we get water, and maybe even some water bugs.

Now, as we know, for E K this isn’t a really huge issue. If it’s a bug she likes, she picks it up and moves it to a safe, out-of-the way, natural habitat sort of location, and then threatens anyone in the general vicinity with death if they even look like they might be intent on harming the insect. However, if it is a bug she doesn’t like it still really isn’t a problem – and she does, in fact, have a list of bugs she doesn’t like. It’s a short one, but it’s a list nonetheless.  Either way, in the event of the bug being on her hit list, she just puts on her patent leather cockroach killers and goes to work with a wicked gleam in her eyes and a smile on her lips. It’s pretty much the same as how she deals with men, except that as a rule, when it comes to men instead of insects, I’ve never seen her set one free, move him to safety, nor protect him from harm. Quite the opposite, actually… But I digress. This is about actual insects, not figurative ones.

The o-spring, however, hates ALL bugs. She fears ALL bugs. She would be perfectly happy for ALL bugs to be eradicated from the face of the planet. Hence the fact that she was now standing in the office hyperventilating.

But back to the dialogue…

“IT’SHuuuuuuuuuggggggeeeee!” the child repeated, not really placated by EKay’s explanation for its presence in the basement.

“Did you see it on the floor or on the stairs?” EKay asked.

“Onthefloor!” the short person replied.

The redhead shrugged and said, “Okay, well the bucket is on the shelf right at the bottom of the stairs.”

O-spring returned, “IknowIWasDownThere!”

“Well… Did you get the bucket?” E K asked.

The child thought for a second, then with the first inkling of calm she had shown since hurtling up the stairs, she delivered the punch line: “Wellllll… I SAW the bucket…”

Fifteen minutes later we held a funeral for the water bug. After we scraped him off the sole of EKay’s pump, of course. What with him being a water bug and all we flushed him. Seemed fitting.

After all that you have to wonder if he “Saw The Bucket” too… I’m thinking he probably did. Right before he kicked it.

More to come…

Murv