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  • BBC – Bureau of Blog Content…

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    I need one of these BBC’s…

    Well, not really. They’d probably just censor me left and right, and we can’t have that.  It would make for some blog posts that look like a government document released under the Freedom of Information Act. 27 conjunctions, 12 verbs, and 1 pronoun spread out across 53 pages and situated in between long, black marks blocking out everything else in the whole document.

    Oh yeah… downright riveting…

    No, I think what I need is a bureau full of content to put in my blogs. Yeah… That would be helpful. Provided it has some good stuff in there, not just underwear and socks…And, by bureaus in this case, obviously I am talking about a chest of drawers.

    Speaking of bureaus filled with good stuff, sometimes the good stuff is sitting on top of them instead of in them… Or, so it seems.

    I suppose it is all a matter of perspective. To adults, the top of a bureau can be a catch all. A place for combs, brushes, your wallet, your watch. Maybe a plant that you forget to water. 58 cents in change. A stick of chewing gum you’ve been carrying around for 2 years. A monkey… wait… not a monkey… Well, you get the idea.

    To a married couple it’s a bit different. It becomes a no-man’s land…in my case anyway… And, by no-man’s land I mean there’s no room at all for me to put anything there because it is covered with my wife’s stuff…And, y’all know how EK is. You don’t mess with her stuff or she goes all redhead on you, and well… it ain’t pretty. She is… Pretty, I mean. In fact, she’s downright hot, even when she’s pissed off… but, she can be just plain evil, which is why we call her Satan in high heels… Hence why you don’t mess with her stuff. You following me on that one? Good.

    But see, now you’ve gone and gotten me off track again. Shame on you…

    Back to that matter of perspective thing. To children, the top of a bureau isn’t as much a no-man’s land, as it is a treasure trove of all things sparkly and out of reach. Probably because they are so short. (that last part is just a guess on my part.) The first part of the statement, however, I know to be fact… How? That’s easy, from experience.

    You see, when I was but a wee author type person – 3 1/2 years old in fact – I stood before a four drawer bureau, staring up at the trinket covered summit, and in that moment it became my Mount Everest. My K2. My mountain to conquer.

    Literally

    Yeah, I climbed the damn thing. And, to prove how tough I was, I scaled the face of this mountain by free-climbing. No pitons, carabiners, or ropes, and definitely without the benefit of Sherpas or even base camps. I’m telling you, I was a regular action hero…

    …right up until the damn thing toppled over on top of me.

    The edge of the top put a crease in my forehead, and who knows, I may have actually lost consciousness. Like most folks nearing the half century mark, for me most of those memories are a blur, and the blurs are surrounded by huge gaps of absolutely nothing. The remaining vivid recollections I have from that incident are few…in fact, really only two. One is the fact that my father was working the night shift at McDonnell Aircraft Corporation and we only had one car, so my mother and I waited for a cab to take us to the hospital. I remember that because we sat by the open door of our ground floor apartment, watching out the window for it to arrive. The other was the X-Ray technician wheeling me in to “take a picture of my head”…

    Hmmm… A chest of drawers fell on my head, then they beamed radiation at it… Maybe that’s why I turned out all “whimsical in the brainpan.”

    Anyhow, I was okay. No fracture, no major problems. Just a very minor concussion. Good thing little kids have elastic skulls. I heard stories for most of my life about how my father rushed home from work and fussed over me. I always heard that from my mother, because my father was a man of few words and it wasn’t like him to be overly forthcoming with his emotions. I suspect his reaction might have embarrassed him a bit, or maybe he was simply trying to be an example of a “man” so that I would know how to act when I grew up. (He was a bit old-school… I suppose I am too in many ways, as since his death in 2003, I find myself virtually channeling him on a regular basis…)

    Anyhow, back to bureaus – doesn’t matter what kind really. You see, it seems my most popular blogs are the one’s where I tell stories about the ridiculous  – and sometimes humorous – things that happen in my life. So, my guess is this recent clacking of dominos in my head is just my subconscious telling me what should be leaking out of my brainpan, so to speak.

    All good… I’m listening.

    Now, this is not to say there won’t be other types of things popping up here. I’m sure there will. In fact, there are a few of us author types right in the middle of planning a “blog tour” whereby we guest post on one another’s blogs. They’ll probably kick me out of the tour after a couple of my posts… won’t THEIR readers be surprised, eh?

    But, the long and short of it is this: The stories of silliness in my life will continue. Just like Dave Barry, the late Erma Bombeck, and a whole host of other writers… Who knows? Maybe someday I will get a column somewhere too… It’ll probably on the back of an envelope, written in pencil,  and discarded in the recycle bin, but hey… A column is a column.

    Won’t my journalism teachers be so proud.

    More to come…

    Murv

  • They’re Creepy And They’re Kooky…

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    I have to be honest. The picture you see at left has absolutely nothing to do with this blog entry… Well, kinda nothing.

    You see, it wasn’t even included with the original posting of this particular entry. However, in the process of moving things from Myspace to the new home of Brainpan Leakage, I was also doing a bit of straightening up around the hard drive… Early spring cleaning, so to speak… Well, as luck would have it, I ran across this picture of EK and me from a costume party we held on our 8th anniversary (remember, we got married on Halloween)…  8th anniversary…spiders…8 legs… yeah, we were all about themes back then… I’ll have to see about digging out some of our other costume party photos.  But, there I go digressing…

    Anyway, so given the title of this blog entry, as well as the Addams family references, EK looking all dangerous & sexy in her “Black Widow” outfit, and me as her webbed over prey, just seemed to fit and I decided maybe I should post it here…

    Even if it doesn’t exactly fit, well, it’s kind of a cute picture.

    But, on with the original blog…

    So I’m on a few of these other social networking sites. Yeah, I know, there are a ton of them out there, and I cannot possibly be on all of them or I would never get any writing done. But in the interest of “viral marketing” I do hang out on a couple of the others besides Myspace. Hey, it’s all about getting name recognition. People see me, see my name, then the next time they see it the little bulb lights up to trigger the “hey, I’ve heard of that guy before”… Then, maybe they eventually get around to buying a book or two. Then, I get to keep writing books. (Kind of a vicious circle, eh?)

    Yeah, I know. Get to the point, Gomez…

    Anyway, I’m sure you are wondering “why the Addams family lyrics for a title of this blog?” Well, I’ll tell you. On one of those other social networking sites, someone posted a comment to my page that went a little something like this:

    “…You two must be a HOOT at Parent-Teacher’s day! LOL! (WHY did the image of Gomez and Morticia Addams meeting Mr. Rodgers just pop into my head? “its a lovely day in the embalming room, a lovely day in the freezer…oh, will you be my, won’t you be, my cadaver?” LOL!)…”

    Obviously that isn’t the entire comment, but basically it came on the heels of some banter about Evil Kat, and the question that due to the genre of my writing whether or not she is afraid to go to sleep with me around. To that I simply replied that she is far more evil than I could possibly be.

    At any rate, the Addams family reference as well as the P/T conference thing begged an answer (you know me, just can’t shut up for anything). So, I answered. My  reply seemed to tickle quite a few folks, so I thought maybe I’d repeat it here.

    Yes… Parent – Teacher Conferences are VERY interesting… Primarily on the first orientation conference, after Wednesday (well, you started it with the Addams family stuff – besides, I don’t publish the munchkins name) tells everyone in her class that “Daddy writes books” …  So, the first conference goes something like the following (note: this is a fairly accurate recounting of almost every initial P/T conference we have attended)–

    Teacher: Mister Sellars, nice to meet you. Wednesday just goes on and on about how you are an author.

    Murv: Yeah, she gets a bit excited about things at times.

    Teacher: So, what are your books about?

    Murv: They’re paranormal suspense novels about a Witch who helps the Saint Louis Major Case Squad track down and apprehend serial killers.

    Teacher: [horrified silence]

    Murv: [Grin]

    Teacher: So…ummm…uhhh…they aren’t children’s books then?

    Murv: No. Not so much. I told Wednesday she’s not allowed to read them until she’s at least 35. Oh, and by the way, whenever I’m not out of town on tour I’m available to help out as a room parent for field trips and such. Just give me a call.

    Teacher: [rushing to change the subject] Ummm, uhhh. okay…uhhh…So! Wendesday’s Mom! I understand YOU fix computers!

    So, there you have it… That really and truly is pretty much how our initial meetings with the munchkin’s teachers go. Fortunately, after that things seem to settle down. Especially after I send postcards to the class when I am gallivanting around the country on tour. In fact, they even end up deciding I’m pretty okay.

    Yeah, I’ve even been determined to be okay enough that I’ve actually done the room parent thing on field trips. (LOL)

    More to come…

    Murv