BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

I know a lot of Wendys…

I realize that’s kind of odd, but throughout my life I have come to know several Wendys. Or, in one case, Wendi. There’s also Wendie, as in Wendie Malick, but I don’t actually know her. I’ve just seen her on TV, so she really doesn’t count.

And, these Wendys are all across the board as to personalities and professions. There’s a blond Wendy who was a Flight Attendant for TWA – remember them? TWA, I mean, not Flight Attendants. Although, I could certainly wax nostalgic about how Flight Attendants used to be Flight Attendants, and not psychopathic hall monitors who seem to think they are Air Marshals. In any event, I have no idea what TWA Wendy is doing these days. I haven’t seen her in years, but I did use to joke with her quite a bit and call her an Airborne Waitress. Fortunately, she had a good sense of humor about it.

Then there’s small Wendy. I have no idea what she is doing, or what she grew up to be. I met her shortly after I graduated high school. My dad and I went on a hiking trip in Colorado, and we had set up camp in a public – but little used – camping area halfway up a pass in the Rockies. Small Wendy and her parents were camping in the same area, albeit several sites over. She developed a crush on me because she thought I looked like John Denver, and would come over to our campsite whenever she saw us out and about. Her parents even sent her over with leftovers from their dinner – they had an RV with a kitchen – because they felt sorry for us having to eat freeze dried rations.

And, there’s “Mistress Wendi”. That’s where the Wendi with an”i” shows up. That’s not her real name… Well… Not when she’s just being her normal self. It’s more of a moniker attached to the alter ego of a friend. Based on the honorific I’m sure you can figure out what she does for fun. We’ve been friends forever, and she was an invaluable source of info when I was researching the Miranda novels.

There are others, but I don’t want to bore you too much. I mean, all I am doing is rambling about women named Wendy. There was, however, a particular Wendy in my life who wasn’t exactly a friend. She also wasn’t exactly an enemy. She was, for lack of a better description, a thorn in my ass. I have no clue what happened to her, but I think of her often, believe it or not. Well, maybe not often as in often. More like whenever I am startled by something and jump out of my skin.

I was all prepared to write the story of why this happens to be when I received notice that one of my recent workshops, which had been videotaped at an event, was now online. I was watching it to see how it came out and lo and behold, there I was, right there on the screen telling the story about this particular Wendy in order to illustrate a point. So, rather than toss a whole ‘nother mess of words out there, here it is, from my lips to your ears.

(Video Courtesy of Spiraling Up Video Productions)

Moral of the story?

Don’t let your guard down around anyone named Wendy. Especially if she has a roll of Scotch Tape in hand…

More to come…

Murv

If you are a regular around here, you know that for the most part, Brainpan Leakage is a satire blog. If you aren’t a regular around here, you need only read the description of the blog, and you should be able to figure it out. However, in this day and age of instant gratification and lack of fact checking, something of which I am occasionally guilty myself, there are often kneejerk reactions to my ramblings here.

Of course, most of you are also well aware that like the proverbial morning cup of coffee and a healthy magazine read in the porcelain room, my day simply is not complete until I have offended someone. The earlier the better, IMHO. That way I can knock off work early and relax. And, as we’ve seen in the past, Wednesdays and Sundays whenever a new blog deploys are the most likely days for early dismissal from the salt mines.

That said, let’s get down to something good and offensive.

“What might that be?” you wonder.

“Well, I’ll tell you,” I say. “Blog comments.”

You see, while I do screen the blog comments for the purpose of keeping spam/blam from making it through, I have no problem approving just about anything, even if you disagree with me. Knock yourself out. If we all had the same opinion then the world would be a very boring place.

However, if you elect to do so, you need to bear in mind that I am just like a comic on stage. If you heckle me, I will heckle you right back.

Case in point… Several months ago I posted a blog that offended a young lady. I say lady because she’s female. For all I know she isn’t a lady at all, but I digress. At any rate, she posted a ridiculously pedantic diatribe on the public comment portion of the blog, taking me to task for being a closed-minded idiot, more or less. While she didn’t actually use the word idiot, as I recall, her intent was clear.

So, good on her. No problem. She took me to task in public, so I heckled her in public. Still, being the nice guy that I really and truly am, I heckled an “anonymous” individual. I didn’t name names, nor provide a link to her FB page, or any of the other things I could have done.

And what do you think happened? Yeah, that’s right. She worked herself up a big ol’ mad and sent me a scathing, nasty email. Now, not only was I a closed minded idiot, I was also a big doody-head for having the unmitigated gall to heckle her.

Do I care? No. I don’t. She obviously needs both an anger management class, and to, as my dear friend Doc Witt says, “shop for a sense of humor on eBay.”

So, the moral of the story?

Simple. You don’t get to call me names with impunity. You don’t get to “yell” at me because I posted something you don’t like on MY blog with impunity.

Just in case you don’t know the word impunity, I’ll save you the trip to dictionary.com – it means, “exempt from the detrimental effects, as of actions.”

So, what I’m saying is, if you feel the absolute need to do any of the above, more power to you. Just don’t act so damned surprised, hurt, put-out, emotionally scarred, and otherwise umbraged when I bite back.

In fact, you’d best be glad it’s me and not E K. She does way more than just bite…

More to come…

Murv