In the movie, Close Encounters Of The Third Kind, the character who is the translator for the French scientist has himself a eureka moment, then says to everyone in the room, “Before I got paid to speak French, I was a cartographer…”

As many of you are probably well aware – and even if you are, I’m going to tell you again – I have a tendency to paraphrase that quote, saying, “Before I got paid to write books, I was a computer and printer technician…”

And, it’s true. I was. I never had occasion to uncover any salient points that would tell us where the Extraterrestrials were going to land, as did the French speaking cartographer, but I did happen to make a few folks lives a bit easier by fixing their computer equipment.

But, that really has nothing to do with hamsters now, does it? Keep reading. Eventually it will make sense. Convoluted in many ways, but sense nonetheless. During the 25+ year span of my Electronics Fix-It-Guy career, I spent a decade with a company called T&W Typewriter and Computer Repair. And, no… The W didn’t stand for “Womputer”. It was the owner’s name. But, moving right along… We had this receptionist, dispatcher, girl Friday – actually, she liked to be called Administrative Goddess. And, that was okay, because she really was. Phyllis was the glue that held the crew together, and she was a good buddy. You see, Phyllis had just as warped a sense of humor – if not more so – than me.

I know. Hard to believe, but it’s true. Anyway, Phyllis and I used to toss incredibly bizarre humor back and forth like snowballs. One liners. Clippings out of magazines. Fake ransom notes. Post its. And drawings. One of the things we had in the back of our shop was a dry erase board. We used it for things like parts order lists, reminders, etc. But, as the years wore on, it was replaced by fax order forms and the like. Not wanting to see it go to waste, I began drawing bizarre cartoons on it. Parodies of life around T&W, be it a weird service call or something that happened over the weekend.

Throughout the years there were things like a caricature of my buddy and fellow Tech, Chris, running bare-butted through the woods with a lantern – something we had convinced him (for a few minutes) that he had done while blind drunk on a company float trip the previous weekend. Or, caricatures of myself and another tech, Mike, portrayed as “Beavisish and Buttheadish” looking characters complaining about a PITA (pain in the ass) customer. However, among the longest running in the way of a “series” of toons and by far one of the most popular with our crew, were the ongoing adventures of “Merp The Tech Hamster”…

“Merp” was born of many things coming together in one place purely at random. Phyllis having a fascination with hamsters. A friend of mine calling me “Merp” all the time. My reputation for being able to MacGyver practically anything, as well as having all sorts of useless knowledge rolling around in my head that would often come out for no reason other than a mnemonic trigger. Back then they would sometimes call me “Cliff Clavin,” (Cheers) even though what I was spouting was truly factual. These days many of my friends call me “Ducky” (NCIS)… But, I digress…

“Merp The Tech Hamster” and his sidekick “Ex-Marine Biologist Turned Supermodel, Buffy Bighair” had a great run as a tongue-in-cheek cartoon adorning the dry erase board. Two to three times each week a new panel would go up, regaling the staff with their adventures battling their evil nemesis, “Doctor Shirley Knot” (aka Phyllis).

Then, one day, the hamster ran away… Wait… no… that was The Pretender… But seriously, then, one day, I left T&W for what were greener pastures, moneywise. Phyllis and I remained friends for a while, although we have lost touch over the years. But, at that point in time after spending a decade in one place, it was a fairly emotional exit. But, as happens with repair companies, I had occasion to call T&W on a regular basis to give them a referral for something the new outfit wasn’t authorized to work on, or to order a part, or to trade tech support. During one of those calls Phyllis mentioned that she and the others really missed the “Merp The Tech Hamster” cartoons.

And so, Sharpie in hand and FAX machine nearby, I set about tempering the loss with paper versions of the dry erase board saga. Recently, while going through some old files I happened upon a folder which contained 8 original “Merp The Tech Hamster” cartoons. While some of them contain inside jokes, I will attempt to explain them as best I can. However, with there being 8 official blogging days for Brainpan Leakage in the month of February – not to mention that I am in the middle of a deadline and could use some easy blogs for a few weeks – I thought I’d declare it Hamster Month.

While an untold number of these “toons” are lost due to the impermanence of dry erase boards, and my own neglect, these 8 still remain. I hope you enjoy them as much as Phyllis did…

Image Copyright © M. R. Sellars – As you can see, each of these is labeled “To Phyllis” since I was faxing them to her each week. The themes would vary, largely depending upon what was happening at the time. I cannot say for certain, but I think this is possibly one of the first – if not THE first – paper toon I faxed. There I – Merp the Tech Hamster – sit at my repair bench, working on a printer, soldering iron in one paw, screwdriver in the other, complete with my compTIA A+ certification certificate hanging on the wall.

More to come…

Murv

I think that will probably depend on how well I follow instructions from here on out. The dance thing, I mean.

You see, messages come in all forms and from many sources. In fact, depending on your belief system, you may even be convinced that you receive messages from beyond the veil between the worlds. And, sometimes those messages come along with a set of instructions that need following.

I suppose at this point you are wondering what messages from the great beyond have to do with the picture of Evil Kat’s shapely gams over here on the right. Well, to be honest, both everything and nothing. You see I’m not actually going to go on about being contacted by the dead. I am, however, going to go on about messages. In particular a message I received just the other day, and it just so happens that it has quite a bit to do with E Kay’s shoes.

In particular, her Mary Janes.

(BTW, I’d have put the whole picture up there, however if you have seen the revamped cover of Perfect Trust, for which this was one of many shots taken to create the final collage, you know things were far less pretty above the waist… Not gory or anything… You’ll just have to read the book if you don’t understand what I’m getting at… But, yeah, E K was one of the models… How cool is that?)

And, back to our regularly scheduled blog…

So, E K has several pairs of Mary Jane styled pumps. Dress up, work, leather, patent leather,  canvas, heels, flats, wedges, brown, black, and so on…

You get the idea.

I couldn’t begin to tell you about the fashion statement surrounding these, primarily because I have absolutely no fashion sense at all. I will pair stripes and plaids in a heartbeat, so I am definitely NOT the go-to guy where this sort of stuff is concerned. However, as shoes go these seem to work for the Evil One, and I am perfectly willing to admit that I think she looks pretty damn good in them. This latter fact may have something to do with one of those childhood memories, that being the little blonde-haired girl next door when I was growing up. We were all of about 7 and I was crushing on her pretty hard. Being the style of the 60’s she always wore frilly dresses and patent leather Mary Janes. They say you never forget your first love. Well, I wouldn’t call this playmate from my childhood a “love,” so I guess that old saying applies to crushes too.

So, there you go. Nothing sick or twisted, just Id, ego, and superego colliding to stir fond puppy love memories in my heart whenever I see the evil redhead in her Mary Janes.

Okay, enough with psychoanalyzing the Murv…

Now, the thing about E Kay’s shoes is that while most of them reside in her evil shoe closet, there are a few pairs that occupy strategic locations around the house – i.e. wherever she happened to take them off. Of course, her evilness is still more conscientious about her shoe placement than the O-spring. If you go stumbling through the dark in the middle of the night around our house, while traversing the living room you will trip over every pair of shoes the child owns. E K, however, does place hers pretty much out of the way. One such “out of the way” location where her feet become un-shod – and the aforementioned shods remain – is the general vicinity of her desk in our shared office.

And yes, Virginia (No, not you Doc… No, not the state either… I mean the metaphorical and collective Virginia) this is from whence I received a message. I just didn’t know it at the time. See below…

If you look closely at the left shoe you will notice a piece of paper lounged out on the insole as if it belongs there…

You see, the other day I rolled back from my desk on a mission to put something in the cabinets on the other side of the room. Since our office is relatively small our desks are against opposite walls. When I stood up to make the 4 steps to the cabinets I had to step around the shoes. When I looked down I noticed this bit of paper occupying the insole.

I didn’t really think much of it at first. Her shoes were sitting next to the paper recycling bin and since she is a shredding maniac I figured that in a frenzy of potential paper-mâché production the previous evening a scrap had escaped her evil clutches in a daring attempt at freedom. Unfortunately for the scrap, however, it plummeted into her shoe where it was overcome by odoriferous fumes and expired before it could get away.

Do NOT tell her I said that…

I continued about my task, tucking some papers into a cabinet, then returned to my desk. once again stepping around the pair of Mary Janes. This time, however, I noticed that there appeared to be writing upon the bit of paper. Again, I didn’t really think much of it until several seconds had passed and I was seated back at my desk. Some manner of subliminal trigger clicked, clanked, or whatever it is they do and I stopped everything I was doing. The image of the paper with the writing on it flashed through my gourd and I screwed up my face in thought as I wondered, “Did that really say what I think it said?”

Now I was curious. So, what else could I do? I rolled back, turned around in my chair, then leaned over to look at the scrap in the shoe (all while holding my nose, of course…) And, much to my surprise, it did in fact say what I thought it said.

“Leave Treat”

I’d heard “trick or treat” before, but never “leave treat,” although it definitely sounded like a pretty clear instruction to me. For a minute I started wondering if she was trying to get in touch with her Dutch roots and thought it was Christmas or something. But I came to my senses and remembered she is primarily Welsh and Irish, not Dutch.

Then for another brief moment I considered stuffing a banana into the shoe just to see what would happen when her evilness came home. However, since I wasn’t sure if that would spark some sort of Freudian dilemma or not, and I didn’t have any Vodka or Scotch miniatures on hand, I elected to simply laugh and snap a picture or two, because it was obvious to me at that juncture that this would be blog material.

Unfortunately, I get the impression that maybe I should have put some individually wrapped Dove chocolates in there or something.

Why?

Well, what you can’t see here is the knobby tread this pair of shoes has on the sole. The reason that is important is that I am now sporting a mirror image of it all over my face. All I know is that E K was doing a lot of unintelligible screaming while she was dancing on my head, but I did manage to catch a little snippet about her shoes being empty when she arrived home and when was I going to learn to follow instructions?

More to come…

Murv