Heart Smart You Say?

Since I pretty much offended all my co-writers for this blog (the ones who take the time to actually check in and read it, ha!) with my last post, I figure I better crack the whip on myself and get more posts out here since I may well be the only one writing from now on.

I've been meaning to post something about this one for sometime. My church has Wednesday night meals, and on Sunday's bulletin, there is the menu for the upcoming meals. They have a regular meal and then a "heart smart" meal. Usually the heart smart meal does seem to be what it claims to be. However, there are some weeks where it really baffles me. Take a look:


I reckon you can eat the fruit salad if you're that concerned about your heart. Perhaps this is a test by the church to weed out who is really trying to be healthy and who's just being a poser. There you have it folks, the Southern Baptist Heart Smart Menu.

"How you coming on that novel you working on? Hmm? Got a big, uh, big stack of papers there?"

It is no secret that we would like to get a book deal and become best-selling authors. If we look deep into our hearts and see the "why" we want to achieve the coveted status, the reason is simply because we are lazy and we want to be thought of as "clever" for our laziness. When you look at the big picture, it seems stupid to spend hours of your time in front of your computer or notebook, churning out words that might (if you're good enough) equal a comprehensive story or commentary, without getting paid a penny in return for your time "invested." Yes, indeed, this is stupid. Especially when you think of all the things one could be doing with one's time: volunteering in the community, feeding the hungry, building a chair, learning a foreign language, enjoying the great outdoors, actually doing something to make money, etc., etc. Writing becomes not so stupid though when the book deal does come and one gets PAID to write. Then writing is the best idea ever! It beats doing just about any other line of work out there. It's funny how money changes the perspective of EVERYTHING.

Being on a reality show, for instance, is another one. Who in their right mind would want to endure the crap that 99.9% of reality shows make participants endure? People being paid to endure it, that's who....and attention whores. You can't forget those either. How about being an actor? Really, if you look at the "profession," it is the stupidest thing ever. People get paid (or don't, which is worse) to pretend to be other people or things. Remember the drama geeks in high school? No one thought they were cool. I mean, how can you be cool when you're sitting on the floor pretending to be a pear or some other piece of fruit? Those people are real dorks until they start getting offered millions of dollars to make movies that the rest of us shell out tons of money to see. Money makes those people not so ridiculous. Who's stupid now, the dork pretending to be a pear or the jerk making fun of the fruit dork? The list could go on, but this post has already morphed into something I did not intend to write when I started.

Sooo, to get back to my original point - we are lazy. It is obvious because this blog is supposed to have a team of 5 writers. Ben and I are the only ones who have posted something and we (and by "we" I mean "me"...or I?) haven't done a lot. I don't think Cristin has even accepted the blog authorship invitation yet (not surprising though; her personal blog, Continuing Along the Path hasn't been updated for over a month). This laziness is a condition from which we are all suffering. Fortunately, I found out the reason why. It is because we are all white. That's right, I just pulled the race card to make excuses for my flaws. I've found a source to back me up though. Stuff White People Like is a blog (that has also turned into a book, hey hey!) that makes fun of all the stuff that white people like. I would love to say that I'm not represented in this "stereotypical" (pun intended!) blog, but I unfortunately am. Probably half or more of the list describes me. #21 on the list, Writer's Workshops made me laugh out loud (lol for the textually active) all the while convicting me of my whiteness. While I cannot say that I have ever been to a writer's workshop (unless you count the semester long fiction writing class I took in college), I've always wanted to go to one, so I reckon that's bad enough.

There you have it, folks, the reason why we keep on with this blog though posts are often few and far between. Someday, we are going to "make it." If not, we're going to keep telling ourselves that we are. We will at least try half-ass our whole lives to write that novel, to get that book deal. We can't help it. It is in our blood. :-)

I know I had it Coming

It was my goal never to consecutive blogs, but seeing that SOME people (*cough*) have yet to get with the program here, I'll toss out another one.

I don't spend much time in bars, but the occasional jaunt to a local watering hole for karaoke with friends is usually a good time--never mind the fact that singing in public to an intoxicated audience once held the spot just below "self immolation" on my list of top ways to ruin a perfectly good evening. Still, it's fun to go just to see what songs your friends will pick. The best ones are those that they clearly regret selecting only four bars in, at which point it's obviously too late. Once you start a song, you have to see it through to the bitter end. That's karaoke law.

My usual strategy is to pick a song that no one in their right mind would boo no matter how badly I slaughter it. The last time I went, I only performed one song: Folsom Prison Blues. Number one, it's Cash. Nobody dares disrespect Cash. Number two, no offense to the Man in Black, but you can be pretty tone-deaf and still make the prisoner's grumbled mourning sound real. And on top of that it's just a cool song that you really don't hear that often.

As most people know, the song is fictional. Though it's consistent with his image, Cash never served any time in prison--or committed murder, as far as anyone knows. And yet what's the line that invariably evokes the most hoops and hollers in the karaoke joint? No question: "I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die."

And I'm thinking, "What's wrong with these people? Cheering on a cold-blooded killing for no reason? Wait...I'M the one that picked the song..." Amazing what you'll sing about that you'd never consider doing.

According to Wikipedia, Cash recounted how he came up with the "Reno" line thusly: "I sat with my pen in my hand, trying to think up the worst reason a person could have for killing another person, and that's what came to mind."

Cash wasn't a bad guy. He just seemed to want people to think he was. Not unlike with the unfortunate incident that brought my night to an early end.

Out of respect for the privacy of those involved, I'll forgo the details. Let's just say that I feel strongly that, while fun has its place, paid performers at nightclubs owe a degree of respect to the patrons they entertain. ...And if defending a young lady's honor compels me to take a bar stool to some Billy Joel wannabe's baby grand, so be it. It's not the first dueling piano bar that's issued me a lifetime ban, and I highly doubt it'll be the last.

"But those people keep a'moving, and that's what tortures me."