Final Thoughts (What am I? Jerry Springer?)

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 4 Number 13
Final Thoughts (What am I? Jerry Springer?)

Again, it has been a long time since I sat here. I don’t think it is really having much of an adverse affect on any one of my loyal reader, but I do like to sit here and ramble on occasion.

Since the last time I wrote we did, in fact, lose the dear friend. Ever since, I (along with others who were close to him) have been quite aloof. We have kind of been just going through the motions. With each passing day it does get better, however. We will always miss him and will forever remember him.

We have had the holidays. Unfortunately, The Boy couldn’t make it down to New Mexico from Wisconsin for his Christmas break due to a flat tire on his plane. I know – that sounds strange, but it did have a cascading effect that made it unable for him to make it here. All in all, I’m sure he still had a good Christmas. I do miss him dearly every day.

Just so you know, I haven’t been completely ignoring this blog thing. As I come up with a random thought, I punch it into my Crunch Berry in hopes of expanding on it or at least using it. So, for my final thoughts of the year, I will just give you those snippets I have saved since the last blog. If nothing else, I will be able to say that I did a new blog.

• I think Bonnie Tyler's "Total Eclipse of the Heart" was supposed to be a Meatloaf song. At least it has always sounded quite Meatloafy to me.

• How come when I am watching an NFL game & they show each player’s head stating their name and alma mater, I can never understand them? They seem unhappy or at least put out for having to do it. If I was making a trillion dollars for playing football I would be excited! WAYNE SINCLAIR! QUARTERBACK! NEW MEXICO STATE UNIVERSITY! WOO HOO!

• I do miss Jazz in my life.

• My grammar, syntax and vocabulary are not the best, but why does everyone seem to want to speak like they are from the ghetto? Why is it cool to sound like you are from a crime-ridden, poverty-stricken place that most people (who actually live there) would love to rise above?

• I am convinced that, culturally, we really are in a mean season and I just cannot wait for it to change.

• Are more people driving like idiots or are there just more drivers - or both?

• If we both miss each other and tell each other so, how come we can't even talk anymore?

• Watching people dance to Country & Western music still amazes me. I could never do that. My partner would go deaf from me counting in her ear. 1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3. Turn, 2, 3.

• I don't like them, but I have been secretly rooting for the Dallas Cowboys ever since they fired their head coach.

• A Peanut Butter & Jelly sandwich is a great late night snack. 'Tis only made better with a tall, cold glass of milk. Never add Vinegar & Salt Potato Chips to the mix though. You will wake up in the middle of the night - puking your guts out.

• I saw a man pay $7.80 in nickels, dimes and pennies to put gas in his Cadillac CTS.

• I pulled into a parking space at a restaurant & I noticed the vehicle next to me had a very low tire. I put a note under the windshield wiper that read: "your front passenger tire is quite low. Be safe. Merry Christmas." I hope I didn't offend them with the "Merry Christmas" part.

• Sometimes you feel like you don't fit in your old friends' lives anymore & it feels like there is a wedge between.

• If you want to see something very odd, go to Wal-Mart on Christmas day. You get to actually see it deserted. The empty parking lot is almost spooky. I keep expecting to see zombies. Oh, wait! The Zombies are there on normal days.

• I'm going to have to get glasses. Reading material is really starting to blur. I guess what they used to tell me was true. Certain activities WILL make you go blind.

• My Son may actually be right. I probably am Alan Harper from Two and a Half Men.

I hope that each and every one of us has a great 2011. To my friends that read this blog, you are all very special to me & I hope that you will always be a part of my life. To quote The Waterboy: “Thank you all so much for being my friends.”

Until Next Time,
Wayne

Words of a Friend

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 4 Number 12
Words of a Friend

As I said in my last blog, I have a dear friend who is going through the most difficult health issue one could ever face – and that is putting it mildly. I have found it somewhat difficult to think of something as trivial as my silly little blog lately. It doesn’t mean much and right now it is so far down on the list of priorities that it is nearly non-existent.

Instead of writing about some nonsense as I usually do, I would like to share some words with you that come from one of my best friends. He has been a source of great strength and help to the family of our dear friend and has also kept our entire circle of friends strong through this hard time.

I always suspected that he had feelings like these inside, but he is not the kind of person who normally vocalizes (or writes) them. He needed to submit something for this week’s Rotary newsletter (he is the President of his club) and anything I would try to write in this blog today would pale in comparison. This is what he wrote:

I apologize for my recent absence; I have been attending an ongoing personal matter. While dealing with this matter, it has really made me think about a few things, some little and some big, but in general - just about things. All the differences we each make and what is important to us. The one thing I thought about a lot is friendship and what a different meaning it has for each of us.

What is friendship? What is the meaning of a relationship? We have often sought answers to these questions, yet we have never come up with an adequate answer. This is because every relationship is an amalgamation of beautiful and complex feelings, which may not often be described in words. Defining a relationship is never easy, as there are so many facets to it. However, we don't need a bunch of words to make us realize the deep meaning of friendship.

According to George Elliot, "Friendship is the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words.” This heartwarming expression captures the essence of friendship. When two people share a strong bond of mutual understanding, respect and love, it lays the foundation stone for an everlasting friendship. This bond just gets stronger with time; the trust between the two people grows and so does the attachment. This is the beauty of the relationship and is the essential meaning of friendship.

Being friends means being there for each other at all times, whether it's good or bad. A friend needs to be very understanding and give each other the benefit of the doubt. Ideally, the meaning of friendship is sharing unconditional love for each other. However, this is not an ideal world; therefore, some form of expectations is allowed, but that has a limit too. The purpose and meaning of friendship is to make life's burdens lighter for our friends and not make them heavier. The Roman thinker Cicero said, "Friendship makes prosperity brighter, while it lightens adversity by sharing its griefs and anxieties.”

Searching for the meaning of friendship has always been a burning question. However, as soon as we meet our friends, all these questions get answered automatically. The answer to what is the meaning of friendship lies within our hearts, because true friendship can only be felt, and not expressed. Something so pure and essential is not always visible to the eye, but is always felt by the heart.

Until Next Time,
Wayne

More Broken

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 4 Number 11
More Broken

Dammit! I guess when it rains, it really does pour. It’s like the world is crumbling around me. We all know the country is going to hell in a hand basket, as per usual. I have a dear friend who is going through the most difficult health issue one could ever face. I am still waiting on that damned motor/impeller assembly for the freakin’ dishwasher. AND now my stupid car is starting to fall apart.

I really can do nothing to help the country except vote, keep my part of the economy running and continue to my volunteer services with Search and Rescue.

As for my friend: unfortunately, all I can do is give him my support, love and prayers. I am not a doctor. I am a sales person/bawdy comedian/regular guy tryin’ to get by. Daily I send prayers and good vibes his way trying to telepathically give him the strength and will to make it through his medical ordeal. I love you, man.

So, I will address that which I actually do have some control over; my muther*%$^#@’ car! Say that last part out loud like Samuel L. Jackson and you will understand how I feel…really.

I used to have a 2000 Dodge Durango which I really loved. It was perfect for me and the cup holder was even big enough to hold my 64 ounce soda. MMMMMMM soda. The bad part about having that vehicle as my daily driver is that it had Dodge’s Magnum V8 engine in it and it drank gas like a pirate on shore leave in the Caribbean drinks rum. Problem with that is that I drive all day for a living and when gas started to creep up to four bucks per gallon, I was really starting to feel it. So, I traded the Durango in for an economical 2005 Suzuki Aerio SX which my son (not very lovingly) refers to as the soda can.

When I got the Suzuki (in 2006?), it was nice, inexpensive and barely a year old with 15,000 miles on it. Perfect. It even still had the rest of the 30K B2B warranty left and it was totally transferrable.

I drove it for a few months and it quickly started to creep up toward the 30K odometer mark of the B2B warranty. Then something broke! Warranty! Woo Hoo! The power window mechanism or switch on the front passenger side. “No, I don’t want to know how much it costs just repair it.” I should have asked. Then I would have known the hell to come.

Shortly after the 30K warranty ran out so did the cruise control. Crap! No warranty. Boo. Hiss. I grew up driving cars without cruise control - I figured I could do without it for a while. Plus, I figured I would fix it at some point since it wasn’t the whole unit that was broken, it was just the actuator.

Then toward the tail end of summer the A/C stopped working. Remember, I live in my car for most of the day and I wear a shirt and tie (and pants) because my job is one in which I need to at least look like I am a professional. Sweating all day until real fall weather arrives is not an option.

I asked a mechanic acquaintance to look at it and was told it was some damned switch on the liquid line. He said I could go get one and put it in myself. Cool.

Not Cool. If it was a Chevy or a Ford or something (like he was used to working on) you could take it off yourself, but on the Suzuki you have to drain all of the refrigerant out because the switch is under pressure. Luckily, I figured this out before Vic or I made that last turn of the wrench that probably would have ended up blowing up in our faces and blinding us or something. Come to find out (after paying to have the switch replaced), it wasn’t the switch after all – it was the compressor. F!

Now that part is on order and we sit and wait. While I was driving the car today with the windows down (because I have no A/C) the battery crapped out. Thank God IT was under full replacement warranty. This brings me to why I should have asked how much the window part cost. Had I asked, I would have had known the outrageous price of parts for the damned soda can.

• The cruise control actuator? $300!
• A whole cruise control unit? (actuators alone are actually hard to get) $660+!
• The in-line A/C switch? $100!
• The compressor? $400+!

These are only parts prices and all but the switch are at mechanic’s discount! None of these prices include the labor for replacing the parts! The whole damned car doesn’t book out for the total of these few parts! When my Mom takes her cans to the recycler she actually handles more metal than is contained in the entire make up of this car! It is a mop bucket with seats! How can the parts cost this damned much? AND all of the parts have to be ordered! None of them are stocked anywhere. You have to get them from the dealer and even the dealer has to order them. I am used to car parts that you walk into a car parts store and you say I need that and this and they go to the shelf and grab it for you and you give them your $20 for a giant hunk of iron or other metal and you go about your merry way and put it in yourself with the help of a friend and a six pack of beer!

I really think that Suzuki has some Secret Sect of Monks slowly make the parts by hand specific to the V.I.N. when (AND ONLY WHEN) the part is actually ordered. I think that these Monks start on each “as needed” part with the mining process. They actually go into a mine and dig a bucket of rock out and smelt it down to the 3 maybe 4 ounces of metal that end up in each part, then start machining from there. Hell, I bet they make the plastic from scratch too! And braiding wire by hand then coating it takes time. They are probably not Monks anyway. If they were, all of the parts would be blessed. I just didn’t want to think about small children from a 3^rd world country stuck in a sweatshop making parts for my stupid car.

I even thought about trading in the Suzuki, but (if you remember) when I got rid of the Durango, gas was approaching $4.00 per gallon! So, I got exactly 25 cents trade in allowance for the Dodge. I am still upside down in this stupid little car which is actually a great car unless something breaks then…cha-ching!

Actually, I like the car fine I am just very pissed at it right now.

If you want to really hear me bitch, ask me how my stupid American Made back feels after being out of commission for nearly a whole week because stupid Lumbar 5 decided he didn’t want to hang out with the others fellas!

Take care of yourself!

Until Next Time,
Wayne

Broken

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 4 Number 10
Broken

It was a Wednesday Morning like any other…at first. I awoke to my alarm and dragged my happy ass to the bathroom. I then began my morning hygiene ritual. On the surface that too seemed routine.

Alas, during my same ol’ same ol’ – I was mentally preparing for a fight. In my mind, I was drinking raw eggs from a glass, tenderizing sides of beef with my fists, running up the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art and prepping to get into the ring.

On this particular Wednesday morning at 7:02 I took off my robe, put in my mouthpiece and stepped into the square circle. I was facing off against Frigidaire Customer Service via telephone.

Why?

My dishwasher, which I bought in late 2008, was broken. (Much like anything that was in my life during that time period.) GRRR! It wasn’t squirting water through the jets and 2 years old is WAY too young to be having prostate problems! I researched and isolated the problem: the impeller was not spinning. The motor was doing its thing, but the impeller just sat there and, thus, so did the water.

I called a service tech and he came out to look at the piece of sh!t. When he arrived, he turned on the FDB1050REB4 and… the damned thing did what it was supposed to! What the hell?!?! He then poured some muriatic acid in it to clean out any deposits, turned it on again and… again the stupid thing worked correctly! What the double hell?!?!

I wrote the technician a $98.66 check for the 17 minutes of “work” he did and he left. That amounts to almost $350.00 an hour!!! I could have gotten a Vegas Hooker for that much and at least then I would have enjoyed being screwed!

When I returned from work that evening I loaded the Frigidaire Dishwasher with dirty flatware, plates, bowls, glasses and some soap. I closed the door and pressed start. It filled with water, and… “whirrrrrrr” – no dice! No impeller rotation! Just the motor sitting there, spinning its wheels (or gears)! GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

Many loud, angry and somewhat creative expletives flew from my mouth!

The next day I called the repairman/hooker back and asked what the &*$#. Unlike a hooker, he said he would come back out and check the motor-shaft/impeller connection free of charge. When he got there he told me that my diagnosis was correct and that the problem was the impeller and that it had just “caught correctly” when he was there last.

Joy! I thought, let’s just slap a new impeller in there and wash some dishes! Of course, that was a stupid pipe dream. I listened as the tech told me that Frigidaire (in their infinite engineering wisdom) hot-mounted the impeller to the motor shaft and that the only way to get a new impeller was to get a whole new “motor/impeller assembly.”

Whenever you hear the term “assembly” used by a technician in naming a part for most any device, just envision that word being spelled with nothing but dollar signs. The new “assembly” would cost around $150.00 PLUS the labor to install it! Sonovabittybittybug! Suddenly we were back to the hooker scenario – “if you want that, it's gonna cost extra, honey.”

Now, back to Wednesday Morning Fights.

When the Consumer Care Representative answered the phone, I decided to go in nice and easy and, if need be, start hitting her with verbal hooks and body shots. I calmly explained my problem and she told me that she totally understood my unhappiness. Sure.

I made a few charming jokes and quips as we talked and we seemed to have a nice rapport. I could hear her typing things on her keyboard. I listened to her politely stall as information came back to her. I hummed a song to myself.

She then started speak again and I got my best verbal right hook ready… only to pull it back. She informed me that Frigidaire would be happy to send me a new motor/impeller assembly at no charge! She also told me that two vital O-rings would probably be damaged when taking off the old assembly so she would send replacements for those as well. I told her how awesome that was and made a couple more jokes before we hung up.

That was probably the single most productive and satisfying phone call I have EVER had with a woman. Thanks, Consumer Care Representative Kim.

Now, if I could get Frigidaire to fix other broken crap in my life for free, like:

• my car a/c,
• my cruise control,
• my back yard,
• a couple of friendships,
• my luck with women,
• my roof,
• my dog’s teeth,
• my financial needs,
• my curved spine,
• my hairy back,
• my heart,
• blah, blah, blah.

By the way, I still have to pay the tech to install the new part, but he said it wouldn’t cost too much because… it’ll be a quickie!

Until Next Time,
Wayne

I'm funny damn it!

I am funny, really funny! Two cows walk into a bar........

Live & Learn

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 4 Number 09
Live & Learn

Well, Mr. Jingles returned my jump drive, but evidently, I forgot how to use it. Here it is nearly the end of August and all I have on record is one blog for this month. It has not really been a good blog year for me. I think I have put a few good editions in the can, but as far as staying on top of things and doing it more often – not really happening.

The other day a dear friend of mine told me that I should write something happier. I actually do not know what could be a happier topic than getting back my jump drive, but the point was well taken. Conceding that I should write a happier blog leads many (myself included) to the question – “is Wayne happy?”

Actually, I am happier than I have been in a decade.

Although my blog is often riddled with narratives of heartbreak, loss, trials and tribulations, it by no means truly indicates the current state of my happiness. To me, Wayne’s Words has transmogrified from some silly little observations about random stupid crap in life into more serious observations about random stupid crap in life.

It seems like this blog was once a place to inject some levity and humor, but it has since become more of a home for reflection and learning – for me anyway. And the only way it works for me is to type it on this screen – it is therapeutic. If I did not use this outlet in the way I do I would not be learning life lessons very well. I would still be walking into walls. When you read this blog, whether you like it or not, you are witness to my growth process - but of course you don’t HAVE to read it.

I think many of you do read this blog, because you can relate to any given installment. You may not identify with everything, hell you might not even agree with it, but if you read it and can glean something useful from it – then cool. Even if what you gather is just a snicker or a “I never thought of it that way.” I do think that blogs (that aren’t informational) are like songs. They really mean something to the songwriter and if you end up liking them then that is neato too.

I am not some guru sitting atop a mountain passing down divine lessons. And I, most definitely, do NOT see myself as such. Just as I have said about a million times, I am a regular guy, just tryin’ to get by. Sometimes, while I am trying to get by, I run headlong into a huge wall of crap. We all do. Often I hit that wall due to blindness or stupidity or naiveté or lust or greed or gluttony or… the reasons could go on. I just choose to write about the wall here to help me tear it down and learn from the bricks of crap around my proverbial feet. My hope is that you would read it and be more able to deal with your own crap walls. However, when it comes to advise or lessons (solicited or not) we often refuse to hear them or think that they apply to us. Oh, well. At least I am learning.

One thing is for sure – this blog is better for me than turning to the bottle, or drugs or other stupid behavior that I am sure I could do to numb myself or make things seem to go away. Some cool things about doing this blog compared to those other things are:

• It’s free,
• I’m not impaired,
• A bit less vomit,
• No mornings waking up and saying “who are you?”
• No police problems (yet, anyway),
• The day after I don’t feel like hammered dog crap,
• You can finish out the list from here.

So, again I say, generally I am happier than I have been in a decade and… I feel a little wiser too, since I have been lucky enough to learn from my writings in this therapeutic space, which I call a blog.

Until Next Time,
Wayne

I Hate Meeces To Pieces!

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 4 Number 08
I Hate Meeces To Pieces!

Well, in the immortal words of Ferris Bueller, “Life goes by pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” Right now, the “take time to enjoy things” meaning of that quote is lost. These days, in MY life, the other meaning rings true: Life changes and it changes quickly. Life is always in a constant state of flux. I’m sure yours is and I know, indubitably, that mine is.

Sometimes life's changes seem obviously good, other times they feel clearly bad. I don't think that you actually know on which end of the spectrum any given life change is until you have had time to chronologically, psychologically and emotionally distance yourself from it. Hell, you may not even know how good or bad a change was until you are sitting in the ever-after reading through the chronicles of your life.

08-02-2010

Hell, I started the above blog several weeks ago and that was as far as I could get on it. I know it sounds stupid as all get out, but I just cannot seem to put down on the screen what I am feeling inside. It is all because of that damned jump drive being lost. It must have been my writer’s trigger; and without it I am just shooting blanks. It is so damned lame that I cannot seem to function without it. I am using the same computers, the same blogging site, the same damned mind, but without that jump drive in the mix I just sit here and stare…

Anyway, today at the office there was a ruckus in our production room. One of the designers came in to the sales room asking for one of our cameras. It seems that the wee little mouse that had recently made one of our walls his home was coming out to take bits of the D-Con we had left out for him and she wanted pictures of “Mr. Jingles.” That’s his name evidently; another mouse already took the name “Danger”. (Side bar: we don’t hate animals – we just cannot have a rodent infestation)

Several of us scrambled into production to try and catch a glimpse of Mr. Jingles. Sure as shucks, even with all of us crowded around his corner by the back door, Mr. Jingles brazenly scurried back and forth between the D-Con and his little hole. (tee hee: little hole) He even seemed to stop and pose every once in a while. We were all sooooo excited to see him. I am sure many of us also actually felt a bit bad inside knowing we were slowly killing him – even though he seemed fit as a tiny fiddle.

Then our General Manager came in! Don’t worry. He is as much of a child as the rest of us are, if not more so. Of course, he was also quite excited to see Mr. Jingles. As we all giggled and laughed at Mr. Jingles’ antics, the GM decided to go over and see if his hole (chortle) was leading outside or into the dividing wall between offices.

He took out his flashlight (yes, he always has one with him) to get a better look and was distracted by some yarn and something shiny. He bent over to grab the shiny object and held it up for all to see… it was my damned jump drive! Holy Crap! It was not two and a half feet from Mr. Jingles’ hideaway.

I was shocked. In fact, I think we were all blown away. The GM said he wanted a reward, so I pantomimed something with him that can’t be written here: just let your imagination run filthy and you will probably figure it out. We all laughed and my jump drive was returned to me.

When the jump drive was lost on June 24^th of this year (that is the last day I used it), several of us tore the offices apart. My work wife told me that she and others even looked back there and had found nothing. We pulled out desks, moved boxes, shuffled papers and anything else you can imagine and were unable to find what our GM happened upon rather easily (maybe that is why he is President of Search & Rescue). The jump drive wasn’t even really shoved up against the wall or under anything or even tucked discretely behind something. So, only one thing can be certain: my jump drive was stolen then left there so it could eventually be found.

Mr. Jingles is a jerk! I cannot believe he would take it in the first place, but to toy with me like that is just downright mean! I thought I had lost my mind and could no longer be trusted with any item smaller than a shoebox without losing it. Stupid mouse! He probably got hantavirus all over it! Little flea-ridden varmint!

Aw, whom am I kidding? I can’t be too mad at him. At least he finally returned it to me safe and sound before he died.

Until Next Time,
Wayne

PS Thanks for finding it, Vic! I owe you lunch. You like value menus, don’t you?

Jump Drive Lost

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 4 Number 07
Jump Drive Lost

Well, here I am again – much later than anticipated. What’s new? It seems like I always have the good intention of writing my blog more often and then I turn around and it is 20 years later. Argh! Curse you Father Time and your never ending march toward the future!

Actually I was going to do this about a week ago, but I went to my car to retrieve the jump drive I have all of my blogs on and it was gone. I had that thing since August 12^th of 2007! It is always in the Speed Racer coffee cup in my car! Gone?! Where would it be? I cannot believe I lost it. Once it went through the washer AND the dryer…. Still worked. Another time it was sucked up by the most powerful car wash vacuum cleaner on Earth. The attendant and I dug it out of the debris canister and…Viola! Still worked. Now it is lost. I’m sure it still works, but not for me.

All my blogs are online, but I had a method. My budget was also on the jump drive. I had to recreate it. By the way, the new version seems to leave me with less money! DAMMIT! I had another spreadsheet that figures my commission each pay period. Made a new one. There were all kinds of very personal letters and such. They’re just gone now. Also gone and irreplaceable are the pictures. I am hoping many of them were duplicates, but I fear there were many that were not.

I have looked everywhere - except, of course, where it currently is. I have looked under every stick of furniture in my home. I have looked at my bosses home (I babysat his dogs for a weekend). I have looked at the office (which is the last place I remember actually having it for sure). I have searched my car. Nothing. Nowhere. No how.

I’m generally very good about not losing things, but this time….sigh.

I guess that jump drive is much like anything else in life. If you are not very careful with it – poof – it is gone. This can be said for friends, family members, lovers, etc.

Sure losing a person in your life may not actually be your fault. They may do something that results in your loss. They may… decide it is time to move on down the road, realize that some differences are too great, want to do different things than you, start to like different things or a different lifestyle than you, visualize a future that doesn’t include you, believe that they need to experience life without you, get the idea that they have grown beyond you. Hell, they may even just die. None of these things are necessarily your fault - although, some of them could be partially your fault.

In the rare instances that I HAVE lost things, I have always said to myself that I need to take better care of my stuff. That is a sentiment that also holds true with the people in your life.

Again, some people will disappear from your life through no fault of your own, but you still need to take better care of them. You need to realize that life and relationships are fluid and either can end without warning. So while any given person is in your life you really need to “take care of them.” This means that you cannot take them for granted. You need to tell them and show them how much you do care for them. You need to cherish each and every moment you have with them. Yes, even the dreary, dull moments, because you will even miss those once someone is gone.

I am going to go. Just remember – anything or anyone could disappear from your life before you awake in the morning. So, take care of your stuff.

Until Next Time,
Wayne

PS If you see my jump drive, please return it to me. PLEASE!!!!

One Hit Wonders

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 4 Number 06
One Hit Wonders

The other night, at dinner, my son and I were discussing music. At the onset, this is already a mind-numbing conversation, because (to him) my music is crap and (to me) his music is crap. LOL. These conversations usually end up being a circular argument about what is and is not good.

Nonetheless, The Boy mentioned Vanilla-Ice (of all people) when talking about “old-school” hip-hop/rap. I made mention that I have actually seen Robert Van Winkle twice in my life and I thought that he was quite ungracious and a whiner.

The first instance was at the height of his “Ice-Ice, Baby” popularity. He opened for (drum roll, please) MC Hammer. I did not buy the second row tickets – they were a “perk” of my job. Incidentally, the group that preceded both Vanilla Ice and MC Hammer that night was a little-known, all-girl singing group called En Vogue. They stole the show with harmonies as rich as freshly churned butter. But, I digest…. That night, Mr. Van Winkle was on top of the world and beamed with pride as the crowd roared when his signature track started.

The second time I saw him was… I dunno… sometime in the last decade with some friends. We decided to go to some (insert holiday here) fest and he was the headliner. It sounded retro-fun and funny. Much to our dismay, when he was onstage and people started chanting “Ice-Ice, Baby,” he got super pissed. He started screaming the fact that he was a “legitimate” rapper and star and that song was just one and… blah, blah, blah! What a baby!

This brings me to the “discussion.” We were both right, but I think neither one of us wanted to see the other’s point. So here it is… all spelled out.

First off, the definition of “one-hit wonder” is a confused one. The Billboard Book of One-Hit Wonders (Billboard Books, 1998) defines a one-hit wonder rather strictly, as "an act that has won a position on Billboard's national, pop, Top 40 just once. That definition does minimalize many artists whom NO ONE would consider “one-hit wonders” (i.e. Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix). Looser definitions state that a “one-hit wonder” is someone who is remembered for one specific song – whether that song even made the charts and regardless of their body of work if it was overshadowed by said song. I would also add that I think it has to be a song so ubiquitous during its time (or since) that the majority of people, regardless of musical taste, would recognize it OR the artist. For example, the perky Katrina and the Waves song “Walking on Sunshine.”

Vanilla Ice had The Boy on his side. He said that it must be quite irritating and frustrating to write truckloads of music and find out that everyone wants to hear that one song. They don’t appreciate your other music. They don’t even want to hear your other music. You work so hard at your profession and all anyone remembers is that one stupid instance – that one song that you probably get sick and tired of playing.

Son, that’s a very good point. Imagine being a doctor all your life and only being remembered for the time you delivered that baby in the cab during gridlock traffic in 100 degree heat with only a shoestring and a bottle opener – regardless of the countless lives you saved with a career full of proper diagnoses and such. However, that cab-baby was still quite a feat and was even named after you!

In fact, many “one-hit wonders,” whether they hate the title or embrace it, often feel that was NOT even their best song. Also, many of them have a huge body of work before or after the “one hit” that is remarkable and often times much better and even more critically acclaimed. The other music, for whatever reason – whether it is moon-wobble or lack of harmonic convergence – just does not make it on the GRAND scale that the “one hit” did.

My side of the argument was that any “one-hit wonder” should get down on their knees to thank the public for embracing and recognizing the song to such a magnitude that it made them, if even for just a few minutes, a household name. In a sea of thousands of signed artists and millions of people with a penned song in their guitar case, to have your “one” recognized the world over is statistically amazing. You should be grateful.

Although many “one-hit wonders” disappear after their “15 minutes of fame” many more do not evaporate into oblivion. The smart “one-hitters” or even perceived “one-hitters” parlay the success of that one song into a loyal fan base that eats up every tune they write and they continue making music for the love of it, regardless of any subsequent commercial success or lack thereof.

You cannot tell true fans of Madness that “Our House” was the only good song that band released. In fact in the 80s, they had 15 Top-Ten hits in 4 years in the U.K. In reality (at least in the U.S.) that one song was their defining moment. Then there are acts like Toni Basil. She landed in the annals of music history (whether you like it or not) with “Hey, Mickey.” She had a couple of other insignificant hits and one more album, but that was it she was finished. She went back to her choreography.

So, I guess it is all in how you look at it as an artist. Are you going to belly ache that “no one” appreciated anything except for your one hit? Or are you going to embrace the fact that, even for a just few minutes, you were the biggest thing and will always be remembered for it and go on your merry way making music or whatever you want to do?

Have a good trip, son.
Enjoy the Midwest.
See you in August.
I Love You!

Until Next Time,
Wayne

Art Imitates Me

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 4 Number 05
Art Imitates Me

OK, OK! I know I have not done this in a long time. Actually, I am pretty sure that I am the only one who knows that. I mean, this blog has, what, 3 readers (including myself). I have no real excuse for my lack of blogging – I just didn’t do it.

Maybe it is because I had started Facebooking? I dunno. I don’t even do that much. Maybe it is just that there is not much to share right now. No wisdom, no insights, no humor.

I thought of a good blog a few weeks ago involving the Motor Vehicle Division of New Mexico, but then I realized it was only painful and not much different than anyone else’s experience.

Friends and I have talked about the fact that I am often the back on which stars and writers make their money, because so many characters we see are a lot like me - usually the likeable losers in movies and such. We all know, for instance, that I am Duckie from Pretty in Pink. Coincidentally, my son is pretty sure I am Dr. Alan Harper from 2 and a half Men. I was also once told that I was a lot like Colonel Brandon from Sense and Sensibility. Of course, according to John Willoughby, “Brandon is the sort of man everyone speaks well of, but no one remembers to talk to.” Hmmm. Don’t know if it was a compliment.

The other day, one of my “work-wives” showed me a comic and said “OMG – it’s you!” She was right.

I started reading Sally Forth mainly because it was on the comics’ page. One day in 2008 the Comic really hit home, so I welcomed the most recent comparison with open arms.

This is the 2008 Sally Forth “Wayne Moment.”

It may or may not be widely known that I don’t eat a lot of lunches out or with people. I usually eat leftovers (mine or those of others) at the office or at home. Anyway, when I showed this to my (then) significant other, she laughed a lot. Now, I think it was at me – not with me.

What follows now are the most recent Sally Forth “Wayne Moments.”

I am in Ad Sales, while the above strip may not be factual, I am sure that we Admen are seen this way.

OK….. This one is dead on.

Just substitute Jessie’s Girl for The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald and - presto!

This is more about my most recent Driver’s License photo. It looks like they took it from twenty feet away and twenty years in the future!

My Mom and I have always joked that I was switched at birth and was actually from a wealthy family. I feel you, Ted. I feel you. LOL.

It is just plain me. Why do you think I have this blog?! Sad, I know.

There is actually more to come - soon. I just had to get out of the anti-writing funk I was in. For the past couple of months I barely even wanted to write my name, much less some unread blog.

Until Next Time,

Wayne

Life Ain’t TV

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 4 Number 04
Life Ain’t TV

Hello?

Is there anybody left out there?

I am still right here where I have always been, just…blog-less. I don’t know what is wrong. I don’t know what to write. I am, however, still here.

Even as I type – my mind is blank. I really don’t think it is a big deal, though. I mean, I think the only people who ever read this are a few of my co-workers. It may, as far as I know, be filler for our website to boost its page count or something.

I think my life has begun to atrophy. I know that there are many parts of me that have. I am fighting the recurring and cascading effects of a back injury from last year. I moved a stupid piano and knocked out a couple of vertebrae. I was able to lift it without problems. How? I don’t know. I guess I am stronger than I look. It was the twisting of it through a doorway that did the damage. You would think it would be hard to manage a back injury in someone spineless, but it still happens. LOL.

I know a good portion of my heart is shriveling up and wasting away. I just don’t have anyone to share it with. It has really good stuff in it, but I guess if you don’t use it you lose it.

I know that many of us are not where we thought we would be at this stage in our lives. I know that when I was young I thought that I would meet a wonderful girl who would love and cherish me as I would her. I thought we would have two incredible children (one boy – one girl) that would rejoice in the fact that we were a happy family. I figured that both my wife and I would have worked for the same companies (respectively) for the past 20 years and have incredible pensions awaiting our retirement. I even thought we would have the children’s college saved for and ready for their enrollment only to find out that they both received full scholarships. Big house, nice cars, fun vacations – no debt. All of this is what I envisioned.

None of this has come to fruition. I guess those lofty dreams are what I get from growing up watching television. The Brady Bunch, Happy Days, The Waltons, Leave It To Beaver, Ozzie and Harriet, Father Knows Best, Family Ties, The Cosby Show. Although each show had its own brand of weirdness, as I looked through my television window into their lives, I saw long lasting love, respect, hard work, etc. I saw family.

Yes, there were problems and issues that arose in all of these shows, but the beauty of television was that all of the characters learned from their mistakes and corrected them. There was growth. I liked what I saw and wanted it.

Maybe I should have just become and actor.

Until Next Time,

Wayne