BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Dads, as a general rule, should keep their observations to themselves, especially in the context of the mother, daughter, dad triangle.

Trust me, it’s easy to get lost in there. Easier than the Bermuda Triangle.

Such a sweeping statement, as usual, begs the question, “Why?”

The answer, simply enough, is “Y.”

You see, dads aren’t properly equipped in the genetics department. It’s that pesky optional vowel that is causing all of the trouble, apparently. Probably a throwback to some sort of Welsh ancestry, but who really knows. If there’s a Y, you’re pretty much out of the loop. Case in point…

We were sitting in the living room the other night – that being E K, the O-spring, and Moi – just vegetating and staring at the idiot box. We were probably looking at Castle, or some such. I don’t really remember, which is probably another Y affliction. But on with the example… The show broke for a commercial or two or ten, and on came an umpteen second spot for a department store chain and their gihugic, must-attend, low-Low-LOW price sale on all manner of latest and greatest fashionable women’s shoes. Of course, in order to illustrate how wonderful the selection, they proceeded to show umpty-jillion different shoes in the span of 10 seconds.

Now… I have nothing against women’s shoes. They aren’t something for which I go shopping – unless the redhead tells me to – but by the same token I don’t think there should be a ban on them or anything. Fact is, the redhead herself happens to have some pretty hot shoes. By themselves, not really so special, but when she’s wearing them… well, there’s a total package thing happening that… Well… We we won’t go there…

Back to the commercial. You see, as they prattled on about all of the different styles available, they proceeded to show all manner of boots. However, the thing about several of them was that they had no toes. Granted, it was partly because nobody was wearing them, but my point here is that there was no toe to the shoe. As in, whoever happened to wear them would have their wee little piggies exposed. Now, to me, given that these were boots – a type of shoe that is designed to protect not only your foot, but your ankle, and depending upon the type, your calf as well – it seemed a bit odd that one would go through all that trouble and leave the toes exposed.

I stated as much. Aloud. In the same room with E K and the O-spring.

“What kind of sense does that make?” I asked.

“I like them,” E K replied.

“Really?” I said. I’m sure there was a bit of incredulity in my voice, because the redhead complains quite a bit about her feet getting cold. Then I asked, “Why?”

With a dramatic sigh the O-spring took it upon herself to answer for all of shoe loving womankind: “You’re not a girl. You just don’t get shoes.”

Apparently it really is all about that Y. I guess the X’s have it…

More to come…

Murv

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