Daily Ambivalence - hard seats at church

If you're late to church you have to sit in the back on the hard seats.

My question has to do with whether it is better to be fat or skinny when you are sitting on hard seats.

If you're skinny, well, obviously you have less weight pressing down and gravity is not such a harsh mistress.

Yet a fat person usually has a big butt and so that means more padding.

There was that doctor recently who told a lady she suffered from ghetto bootie. You remember? He is currently having a rough go of it in the press, though I'm thinking his patient should count her blessings. She can be as late for church as she wants.

Of course, some fat people still have really small butts. Usually guys I've noticed. They look weird in jeans. That must be hell.

Hard seats at church . . . eh.

Jim Dale is pretty good

My all-time favorite book on tape is any of the +Harry Potter books.

I know, really going out on a limb there. "Wow, Edwards, you mean to say that your favorite book on tape is from the most popular series every written?" I'm a pioneer that way.

I bring this up because I am going to record one of my own books here pretty soon and I have been practicing a ton. Jim Dale is the guy who did the Harry Potter series, at least for Americans, and that guy made it seem effortless. His ability to bring the text alive is as magical as any spell beginning with stupefy . . .  or semper fi. I forget which one. I guess I need to bone up on my Harry Potter. Anyways, like I said, Jim Dale makes it sound easy.

It's actually not.

Just reading without stumbling over every third word is a challenge. Add to that throwing in different voices.

I've got the whole multiple voices in my head thing down, but getting them to use my vocal chords is different.

I think I've got enough voice talent to pull it off, but I'm not sure. Maybe I'll record the first chapter of the book I'm doing, Boo Noon, and make it available here and get your opinion.

Daily Ambivalence - 7th inning stretches

My baseball signed
by Dale Murphy

July seems an appropriate month to mention 7th inning stretches.

What with American Independence Day, baseball and apple pie are ubiquitous themes in the culture we call popular.

I wish I liked baseball better. The number of times I've actually stood up and stretched during a 7th inning stretch could probably be counted on two hands. But I am familiar with that inning between 6 and 8.

During the 7th inning stretch, fans sing a song about taking someone to a ballgame, though only the chorus. I kind of liked the 7th inning stretch until the last game I went to.


The last time I went to a game I asked the guy next to me where his peanuts were and after he looked at me weird, he dumped his beer over my head. Then he left.

That seemed rude to me at the time, but since then I have wondered if maybe he dumped the beer on my head to free up both his hands so he could go and buy both peanutes and Cracker Jack. And the game just ended before he got back.

It's a shame.

7th inning stretches . . . eh.

Pioneer Day in Utah

I drive a convertible. which is really great sometimes. A lot of times, actually.

Like this morning. It's a holiday in Utah but I had to go to work anyway. A deadline.

There I am, driving down the freeway, some light cloud cover, just enough to inhibit the sun. I looked up. There was a jet plane tracing a gentle trajectory just above me, a stencil of metal sliding along the fabric of cotton cloud and it was so beautiful.

Just at the moment, a bird darted in between my view of the plane and  the sky.

There are a number of thought paths you could take from that image.

On Pioneer Day I chose to see the homage we make so often to the world in which we live. We see a common miracle such as a bird in flight, we yearn to recreate that miracle in our own lives, and eventually a man or woman finds a way to do just that. And then we take it for granted. Except for when we don't. Like today. That plane in the sky was stately, beautiful. The bird a flash and a reminder of the genesis of an idea once held by two brothers. Pioneers.

Great way to start a morning.

Daily Ambivalence - Wii remote nunchucks

Wii remote nunchucks are not meant to be used in home defense.

The old saying "pry these from my cold dead hands" is especially pertinent if you are using Wii remote nunchucks to defend your home because a robber could easily kill you.

Unless, of course, you are defending your home from Bowser or Jigglypuff. If that is the case, Wii remote nunchucks are probably better than the real thing because of the easy access to special moves.

So, best case scenario, you should probably keep both kinds of nunchucks handy for home defense. Mad skills.

Wii remote nunchucks . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - Double Decker Tacos

I really like the Double Decker Taco.

I just get confused sometimes whether it's +Taco Bell or +Taco Time that sells the Double Decker.

You ever had this happen?

You pull into a drive thru because you have a pregnancy craving for a Double Decker Taco (minus the pregnancy), but you went to the place that doesn't sell Double Decker Tacos?

You're basically stuck. Especially if you're a guy. What are you going to do? Drive away? By driving away you basically scream to the world that you didn't know where you were. That's worse than asking for directions.

But it's a Double Decker Taco, man. 

And here I'm not talking just Double Decker. I'm talking Double Decker Supreme. With Sour Cream. Sour Cream!

But you're stuck there in line and there's not thing one you can do about it. That sucks like Michael Bay Hollywood.

Strange that it's just as I write this that it occurs to me that adding sour cream to a dish and then calling it supreme is a bit like throwing Howard the Duck on Blu-Ray and calling it classic.

I hated Howard the Duck.

Double Decker Tacos . . . eh.

Can't even buy a vowel

I'm in a bit of a writing slump. I'm about 90,000 words into the current book I'm writing, Theo Thwaite Had a Problem, and I still don't quite know what the conflict is. You don't think I'm in trouble on this one, do you?

Naw, I'm sure I'll be fine.

I'm always just so interested in the writing process. I'm on book number ten in my life and I still feel inadequate sometimes. Even oftentimes.

And yet I'm confident in myself as a writer. I heard an author say something at a writer's conference a year ago that I liked. The writer was +Michaelbrent Collings, and he said something like - "authors are the strangest mix of narcissism and inadequacy." That is so true.

At least I think it's true. For me at least.

Are you a writer?

Guess what?

I'm a lot better than you are.

I really don't care what you have done or published. The Internet is a big place and just about anyone could be reading this, but . . . I am a much better writer than you are.

Isn't it strange that I can feel confident about that, yet begin so many days at this keyboard with the first thought running through my head being - "You totally suck, Edwards."

I just take comfort in the fact that if I suck, you must really be bad.

Daily Ambivalence - bereavement salons

It really feels great when people run their fingers through your hair.

I was trying to think of ways to make money the other day and the idea of bereavement salons popped into my head.

Of course, there are places today where people run their fingers through your hair. But those folks usually do it when they are cutting your hair.

The way I see it, at a bereavement salon it would just be people running their fingers through your hair.

Did you get some bad news today? Your cousin Jeremy only have a month to live? Did you recently bury your cat Boris in the backyard? No problem. Come to one of my bereavement salons and an employee will run his or her fingers through your hair.

It would be easy to own a bereavement salon. None of the employees would need special training. Working at a bereavement salon wouldn't be like cutting hair or owning a landscaping company. No schooling needed at all. Owning a bereavement salon would almost be like printing money.

Only money can't buy you happiness.

If the fact that money can't buy you happiness bums you out, come to one of my bereavement salons.

Bereavement salons . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - taking a week off

Bryan Moon

People taking a week off typically use words strung together like "recharging my batteries" or "taking a break from reality" or "Goin AWOL, y'all." (I made that last one up)

Congress recently passed a law that if you take a whole week off you have to purchase a +Jimmy Buffett cd or some trinket off Buffett's website. I bought a coaster.

It has been a week since I posted anything to this blog, and the dark haze at the edge of every thought, the glowing eyes peering at me from that midnight distance of tomorrow, the constant bray of tortured souls both past and present that I have or will betray, the greedy demons tearing at my insides, surging for escape or greater ingress I  know not which, the weight of eternity a hell of my own making that I build brick-by-brick with a care unacknowledged, the smear of my life-stain a glowing nimbus of unparalleled evil that will one day wear holes in the fabric of time and break all consciousness into . . .

All of that actually feels a little better today.

Buffett must know a thing or two. I just don't drink margaritas.

Taking a week off . . . eh.