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  • Mahwage: What’s A Nice Girl Like You…

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    Part 1 of 12…

    What’s a nice girl like you… Doin’ married to that guy?

    We’ll get to that in a minute. Right now I just have to say that I absolutely loved that bit from The Princess Bride.

    “Mahwage…Mahwage is what bwings usth togethwerrrr …tooooo-dayyyyyy.”

    Of course, I actually got a huge kick out of the whole movie. I even own the DVD… But, like usual, I didn’t come here to talk to you about a 1987 comedy. Well, not one that spent time on the big screen, anyway…

    The reality is this: I get asked, more often than you can imagine, how it is that E K and I met up, “lell in fuhve”, and came to be hitched. I fully suspect that there is a kind of interest there born of circus sideshows. You know, the train wreck awe of seeing “Timmy the ape boy” or “Lulu the tattooed lady”. What I mean is, my guess would be what’s really going through their minds at the time is, “How in the hell did a troll like you end up with a hot babe like her?” But, in the end that is really just my own self-deprecating insecurity showing through.

    I usually tell myself to ignore what my off-kilter grey matter “thinks” they are asking and simply answer the query with an abbreviated rendition of the  true and bizarre tale. You know, just enough to tell them what time it is in at least four geographical zones, but not quite enough to explain exactly how to build a clock. However there is an inherent problem with that approach, because more often than not it just ends up begging a few more questions. And then a few more… And then a few more…  Until finally, the entire story has been told, albeit in a roundabout and somewhat disjointed fashion – and as always, leaving out something or even some things entirely, simply because the discombobulated sequence has confused me and I forgot.

    The truth is, the full span of our story is semi-complicated. I say semi because it isn’t really fraught with major complexities – just a few bumps, a couple of dips, a hill or two, a small mountain, and a handful of incidents that read like a script for an episode of a sitcom. All in all, no different than anyone else’s “love story”, other than the fact that it’s our story, and not their story. Know what I mean?

    Because it truly is a FAQ when I am on the road, and even in email from interested fans, I had this bright idea that maybe I should blog about it.  Get the story out in the open and in a chronological, coherent fashion so that the next time I am asked I can say,  “Here’s the thumbnail sketch, but if you want the whole story, then you should read my blog…” I mean, how’s that for a segue to my website, eh? (no, not the mall cop electric two wheeler thingy – I’m talking about the  actual meaning of the word and all that).

    Besides, when you get right down to it there is also that whole dying brain cell factor to consider. I mean, since I’m getting old and stuff like that, it might be  time to think about recording these important memories for posterity (or, posterior as the case may be) before I lose them for good. I mean, hey, my kid might need something to laugh at in her later years when I am in DependsTM, drooling all over myself, and being a burden on her. (You see, I think E K will probably still be a hot babe and most likely have run off with “Ricardo the Pool Boy” at that point… I’m pretty sure I’m her picture in the attic so to speak. As the years go by, I just keep getting greyer and she keeps getting prettier…)

    Well, moving on, I think we all know how bright ideas can turn out to be really intense Xenon flashes with no diffusion filter fired directly into your face, or in some cases just a really dim flashlight with almost dead batteries. It all just goes back to perspective, I suppose. At any rate, I think maybe  this particular stroke of brilliance is kind of like a whole row of  bulbs in one of those fancy, flashy signs, winking on and off in a taunting fashion. Why? Well, allow me to explain… You see, when I sat down to compose this blog, I gave it a bit of thought. First I had the initial question to answer, and then there were the often forwarded followups…

    Yeah, you guessed it… Dominos began to fall, and before I knew it I realized that this “little ditty ’bout E K and Murv” was in no way something Mister Mellenkamp would be able to condense into 4 or 5 verses over  approximately 3 1/2 to 4 1/2 minutes. I mean, he’s good…real good, in my opinion. I am actually a fan… Loved Scarecrow. Great CD…

    But, I really shouldn’t go off on that tangent…

    You see, the thing is this story has legs – and, I mean besides those shapely gams belonging to E K herself – yet another tangent that could keep me occupied for hours, but we won’t go there in public... The simple fact of the matter is that it will take more than one song, or even music video, to do the story justice. Well… maybe if it was a music video… Hrrrmmmmm… Well, let’s just not go there either…

    Seriously… it became painfully clear to me that this tale really and truly has a life of its own. One that I wasn’t going to be able to condense into one blog. Therefore, I set about the task of figuring out just what it was going to take to do it justice. Well, the answer surprised even me. All I can tell you is this – it’s way bigger than a breadbox.

    And, so begins a series of blog entries. An interconnected web of how E K and I came to be a couple joined together in wedded bliss (or so they say, whoever “they” are), and moreover the insanity punctuating it all. At this stage, I have sketched outlines for 7 separate entries to tell this story. Some long, some not so long. But, in any case, 7 separate incidents throughout the process, each of which deserves its own title and place in history. Some of them are funny,  some of them are simply Hallmark ChannelTM sappy, and others are just plain “WTF” moments. But, in the end, the real point is they are all 100% true, with witnesses and everything…

    And, just so we are clear, I’m not going to guarantee that the number of entries involved here won’t grow to 10, or even 12 before everything is said and done… it could happen. I am, after all, a “writer of books”, and the process kind of does that fluctuating thing at times. But, right now, I can almost assure you that there will be a minimum of 7 over and above this introduction.

    So, what I would like to do now is start you off with a picture.  A picture from the first page of our wedding album (note: we did not hire a professional photographer for the basic reason that we couldn’t afford it, therefore all of our pictures in the album are candid and amateur… but, we feel that captures the moment even better than if they were truly posed.) When E K reads this blog she just might beat me about the head and shoulders for showing this pic to the world, what with it not being the most flattering of them, for either of us. But, I think it sets a tone that you will come to understand as this blog series progresses… (Note – throughout this series you will see my dear and lovely referred to as E K as I do now, as well as Kathy, her given name, and even Kat, her preferred monikerE K has become her tongue-in-cheek persona over the years, so it is just one of those things. Suffice it to say, the three names are interchangeable and refer to the same person, just in case it seems a bit confusing…)

    By way of explanation, the photo below was taken in the kitchen of our  recently purchased (recent as in 1987 when the photo was taken) “Handyman’s Fixer Upper” of a house (read between the lines here – “needs to be totally gutted and completely redone”).

    just_hours_to_go

    That would be my young and gorgeous bride on the left, running about with a container of sugar and her mouth hanging open. The guy in orange with his back to the camera would be me.  (see, I told you it wasn’t exactly flattering.) As you can see, the house needed more than just fixing up. It needed life support, which we were both willing to provide. Unfortunately, we had just purchased the money pit less than 30 days prior to this photo being taken, and had already been spending every waking hour  when not at work, refinishing hardwood floors, patching plaster walls, rewiring, and all manner of other things involved in rehabbing a house.

    Oh, and the MOST IMPORTANT point. This photo was taken a mere handful of hours prior to our actual wedding ceremony and reception, all of  which took place in our partially remodeled living room, October 31st, 1987.

    But, before we can get to that, we have to back up a bit and start at the beginning… A beginning which, unfortunately was a very dark day for our country and space program. And, an even more horrible day for 7 astronauts.

    January 28, 1986… The day of the Challenger disaster.

    I know, I know… It seems a morbid way to start a blog series about love, romance, and marriage, but certain events in our lives are impressed upon us like technicolor still frames, individual in a sense, but interconnected by a thin thread that ties everything together and makes us whole…

    More to come…

    Murv

    … NEXT: Mahwage: Love At First Sight


  • Leather Clad Ice Princess Strikes Again…

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    I can’t even mimic Brando at this point…

    Not my night? Hell, it ain’t been my week apparently.

    If you read my previous blog you know that Momma Nature in all her bitchy glory, sent freezing rain and sleet down upon our heads today. And, as a result, my flight to Detroit was canceled, effectively keeping me from arriving at ConVocation, where I was to sign books, present workshops, and hang out with tons of really cool people.

    Well, okay… bad enough… The airline managed to re-book me for a flight early tomorrow morning. All good. Not exactly the most convenient time as far as getting to the airport, etc, but I made the arrangements, left my bags packed and by the door… I was ready.

    Well, Mistress Nature is gearing up to give us another ice lashing. She should start in on us again around midnight and continue on through tomorrow evening. Soooooo, in what must have been a preemptive move on the part of the airline, my flight was canceled, yet again…

    I just can’t catch a break…

    I suppose it was probably a combination of the weather, and accommodating passengers from other flights as well as those already booked prior to all this. Not to mention that for all I know the new flight might have been coming from one of the points East that is now getting beaten by waves 1 and 2 of this storm system.

    At any rate, the best they could do is get me to Detroit sometime Saturday. Maybe. If I was lucky, the weather dominatrix sleeps tonight, and if I held my tongue just right while clicking my heels together and saying “There’s no place like Detroit, there’s no place like Detroit…”

    I was willing to give that a go, but the problem is this – I would get in sometime Saturday… Maybe morning, maybe afternoon… Maybe even evening… Not really sure. They were shooting for morning, but hey, they were also shooting for today as I recall, and we saw how that turned out… Either way, the event ends by noon on Sunday. So, in essence I would have arrived (maybe) and someone would have had to come pick me up, then get me back to the hotel, check me in, etc, etc… By that time I might be able to mingle for a bit then go to bed, get up, pack, and go to the airport to come home.

    The long and short of it… I’m not going to be at ConVocation this year. I’m not happy about it and neither are they. But, we all realize there isn’t much we can do.

    So, save your programs. If you see me in the future, I’ll be glad to sign them… Hey, it will be a collectors item. The event I was supposed to be at but never made it to… If you are after one of my books while at the con, they have those there too. Tell Dorothy Morrison I said she could sign them for me.

    My next tour date? The Ostara Festival in Harker Heights, Texas… That’s a couple of weeks away yet… Let’s hope the weather bitch is in a better mood by then…

    More to come…

    Murv