On Brevity

Rascal Flatts single...six words in the chorus.  Six.

"Things that matter, Things that don't"

Seriously, I never would have even thought to try that.

Two things: It works and I hate the writers for it.  The light from me to them would take a million years to reach.

Brevity Sucks.

Thank you that is all.  

Man Card Violation #226

Caught the video to "Here Comes Goodbye" on Youtube.

"What's wrong Bill?"

"(Sniff, sniff) Nothing."

"Then would you mind getting of the floor and keeping the sobbing down to a dull moan?"

(Sniff, sniff) "Yes Ma'am."

"Good.  That's mommy's good boy. It'll be OK, yes it will my little hubby-wubby.  Did those meany-weeny Rascal Flatts boys make you have a sad face?  Well, you just never mind them. There's a Lexapro in the cabinet upstairs and ice cream in the freezer..."

"Can I have the remote?"

"No."

(Sniff, sniff)

Whoa, gentle readers, that one snuck up on me. Ka-pow.

Update

“Our goal is to be published songwriters, with a cut on the radio, by the time we are 40. 1,541 days to go.”-originally posted August 8, 2006……

Wow…It’s been a little while since the last update.

Well sports fans 2008 was a good year. Things are moving right along. Brother Chris launched his solo career. He’s been working it pretty hard, blitzing radio stations across the country, touring, playing locally when ever possible.

He was recently recognized by the CIA, no not the fine folks from the Government, the Christian Independent Artist’s Association, with a 2009 Momentum Award for Country Artist of the Year. His first single is number 60 on Music Row’s Country Breakout Chart. It played at over 300 radio stations last week.

So, you would think right there our stated goal since 2006 has been met in fine form. Wait Gentle readers. Wait. The single……not one we wrote. Yeah. How about that? 40 is throwing me a welcome party, I can see the guests arriving now, and he releases a single we didn’t write. But I’m not bitter or anything.

I have it on good authority that the next single, due out in May, will be one of ours. Maybe then, gentle readers, maybe.

Been expanding our circle of co-writers, learning to love the edit and appreciating it for more than just a four letter word, figuring out that A-B-A-B over and over, when you say it really fast, starts to sound like “Baby”, so grow up and write something different, and trying to find ideas in everything. Enjoying seeing it, whatever “it” is, grow.

Miles and miles to go. 575 days….

Not Playing

High drama at the Casa de Filer.

Little guy was asked by the music teacher to play the stinkbug in the first grade play. He wants to be an army ant with his buddies instead. The stinkbug is a speaking role, but the army ants get to march and sing a cool song.

He's supposed to make a decision today. I guess he'll consult with his agent and PR folks at recess, maybe take a meeting with the producer and director to discuss creative direction. Not sure.

Personally I think he should play the stinkbug. Everyone knows the stage is where you build your chops. All the greats do it. He has a sit-com pilot set to film later in the spring and the play should wrap in plenty of time for him to be ready. No, it doesn't pay, but it rounds out the bio. Which reminds me, we need some new head and shoulder shots made....

Thank You, Thank You

$3,400 dollars so far for Children's Mercy Hospital's child life program.  Donations are still coming in. 

Thank you to everyone who came out to the party.     

The Weather

Thunder-snow is in the forecast for tomorrow. Thunder-snow.

Supposedly Thunder-snow can be an ominous thing, but the name just doesn’t strike fear in my heart.

Sounds like a 4 year old girl made it up.

Princess Thunder-Snow and her Fire Kitty rode their pretty pony Sparkles to the far off Kingdom of Bubble Gumopolis to do battle with the evil witch Trundelda.

Fire Kitty comes with two changes of clothes and Sparkles hair changes color when dipped in cold water. The Ruby Palace and Enchanted Forest play set sold separately. Batteries not included.

Reason #247

If you are in sales, or in some sort of support capacity for a sales person, you are bound to encounter the reason why the profession is reviled by some. It occurs to you that there are legitimate reasons why salespeople are hated at times.

Received a call from one of my customers. He has a lift on order for an elderly couple in New Jersey-the wife needs a lift to help get her into the house. The husband called my customer today to inform him that his wife just entered the hospital and most likely never come out. Happens a lot in this line of work, just the nature of the demographic group we build lifts for. Thinking my customer was calling to cancel the order, I pulled everything up and was already writing instructions.

My customer doesn’t want to cancel the order. No. He wants to me to hurry up and ship it today so he can tell the “Old Fart” that the lift already shipped and it’s too late to cancel the order. He “doesn’t want to lose this one.”

Repugnant and vile.

Aloha Bru Ha Ha

No meat in the spaghetti sauce, an aversion to spices in general, a crinkled up nose at the mere sight of ketchup, these are all things that can be easily forgiven.

A radio in the car that is never on, no CDs in her possession at all, not being able to quote liberally from O’ Brother Where Art Thou, knowing there is such a thing as the Soap Opera Channel, for watching Dancing With The Stars, for not acknowledging that Jennifer Gardner is perhaps the finest screen actress of our generation, these are all things that can be easily forgiven.

For being a democrat…..wait…I’m thinking….reluctantly, yes, this too is something that can easily forgiven.

Putting my son in his new Hawaiian shirt from Barbados for his spring pictures with a long sleeve shirt underneath, this you see, this is not something that can be forgiven. No indeed.

You don’t wear Under Armor under a strapless Versace. You don’t paint a mustache on the Mona Lisa. You don’t tell Bobby Flay that his dish needs a little salt. And for the love of all things holy, you never, ever put anything under a Hawaiian shirt.

Custom now dictates that the shirt must be destroyed, sacrificed to fire while lotus blossoms and shards of brightly colored rayon are sprinkled upon the ashes. I know not if I have the strength to perform my sacred duty.

This grievous offense has cast our beautiful relationship in doubt. I cannot look upon you the same. You are a stranger to me. Who are you woman and what have you done with my wife? Away with you, banished you are. Vexed and offended, confused and amazed, hurt and vengeful…this is the mantle thrust upon me by this blunder of epic proportions.

It weighs heavy upon me, gentle readers……

March Madness

My son is obsessed. He's crazy. Every night its the same thing. Basketball, basketball, basketball.

His court is the living room and kitchen. He's made his own bracket. East Tennessee State was playing a quarter final match with Duke this morning. He can name players and schools and he knows the conferences they are from.

Most importantly, he loathes the Jayhawks.

He is my son. I am well pleased...

Bite Me

Middle of the night.  Nothing on, even after scorching the remote for 10 minutes. So, what the heck. Twilight was on.

That movie was perfect....for a 13 year old girl.  

Seriously, my man card is in jeopardy of getting revoked simply for not changing the channel the second it came on.  It's a lead pipe cinch admitting watching all 120 middle school minutes.  

Blach.

John Wayne, Bogart, Bronson, Eastwood, and Arnold are shaking their heads right now.  Bill loses his card in a 5-1 vote, the only nay vote coming from the bunny hugging, Saab driving Yale grad on loan from the ACLU recently hired to fulfill a diversity requirement.

After that one I should have enough self respect to hand it over on my own.  Need to kick a puppy or punch out a nun or something.  Mercy.

Fool in the Pool

Been on the treadmill.

Been on the track.

Been on the bike.

They all have and equal amount of suck associated with them, but little hangover once finished.

Hopped in the pool today to swim some laps. Dear momma, gentle readers.

500 meters. That's it. Michael Phelps can span that distance by wiggling his pinkie toe.

At one point the water said "dude, if you have one ounce of self respect,you'll stand up right now. Seriously."

My chest still hurts.

Empty Nest

Little guy went to great grandma and grandpa’s house yesterday.

It always sounds fun, you know, the idea of having the house to yourself. Watch what you want to watch on TV, putter around the house, play guitar, anything.

Not so much really.

After about an hour, my wife and I were looking at each other asking “what do we do now?”

Seriously, what in the blue blazes did we do prior to children for the love of Mike?

Heard at our house last night……
Maybe we could
No
Ahh, wait. I was going to ask if
No
Stop it. Do you want
No
(Me jumping up and down like an angry six year old) Stop it. Let me finish.
OK
(Speaking fast so she can’t interrupt me) doyouwannagotodinner!!!
Ooohhhh, Dinner….No.
How about
No
Wait. Quit that. What if we
No
(Me jumping up and down like an angry six year old) Stop it. Let me finish.
OK
(Speaking fast so she can’t interrupt me) Maybewecouldwatchamovie!!!
Ooohhhhhh, a movie….No.
Well, I guess we
No
Now dang it, stop that. Do you want
No
Woman! We could
No
(Me jumping up and down and pounding my chest like a gorilla on crack all breathless)
For the love…..Dinner..and then…movie…and then with the No over and over..and..I wasn't trying...I don't want to...walk lady. I wanted to go on a walk.
Ooohhhhh, a walk…No.
AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

401(k) Statements Came Out Today...

So Much Love

Here it is gentle viewers, the video.

Well put together with one notable, conspicuous, omission. Yours truly was not in the video. Can you believe that? Do his homework in college, keep him out of the pool halls at night, teach him how to play guitar, provide vocal training, consulted on his coiffure, and yet not even a bit part. He didn't even have to pay me scale for the love of pete...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=weIqyCG3QsY

68 on the charts people.

Much A Do About Nothing

We now take you deep within the bowels of the 3 Kidney Music Machine….

Me: You growing your hair out?
Brother Chris: (Deep, resigned sigh) Yes.
Me: Are those…highlights?
Brother Chris: (Deeper, still resigned sigh) Yes.
Me: May I touch it?
Brother Chris: No.
Me: (Whispering) Shush, I think it knows we’re talking about it.
Brother Chris: What?
Me: (Whispering) Your hair. It’s alive. May I touch it?
Brother Chris: No.
Me: Do you have, like, product in there?
Brother Chris: (Deep, resigned sigh) Yes.
Me: Do you have to use a blow drier?
Brother Chris: (Deeper, still resigned sigh) Yes.
Me: May I touch it?
Brother Chris: No.
Me: Is that artist hair? Did your “manager” recommend that?
Brother Chris: (Deep, resigned sigh) Yes.
Me: May I touch it?
Brother Chris: (Deep, still resigned sigh) I hate you…

Susan

She’s lived with it a long time. Matter of fact, I knew her for over a year before I found out. Never a clue on the outside. Finally, seeing her name on a prayer request, hearing someone mention a doctor’s visit, not seeing her near the front row, asking a few questions, the pieces came together.

Cancer. A slow burn. Hot spots, treatments, sickness and then momentary relief have been her life cycle for the last several years, since before I knew her.

Perched behind the drums I see her every Sunday. I love her. I loved her before I knew she was sick. She’s a goof, laughs easily, plainly loves her children, loves her husband, and is an amazing example of courage and faith.

We’re supposed to say these things to, our about, the people we care for when they are dying. But the older I get the more I realize that we say these things so that we, the living, can ease our minds, concentrating on things that will live on even when the people we love can’t, a coping mechanism so that we can mentally look away, not think about the pain, or the constant state of fear being endured living with a stone cold certainty. Niceties and encouragement are more for us, not them.

I can see it now. First the eyes, now the smile. She’s dimming. Regardless of her inner strength, which I believe is no doubt Herculean, she’s losing. She’ll live for many more months. Of that I’m sure. But not long enough.

The first blush of color is on the tip of the maple leaf. Soon when the wind blows, a few will helicopter to the ground. While you stand watching, thinking of someway to frame it, fumbling for the right words to say because custom calls for it and you can’t stand the thought of letting it pass without note, more and more will fire up with deep reds and yellows before they too give way and fall to the ground. Before it’s too late, and when you can’t take it any longer, you reach up and pluck a leaf off so you can hold it in your hand, something to keep. You don’t want to take anything from the tree. How dare you actually, not now, not when you know, but you have to have something. You want to keep something. I want to keep something.

I want to sit by her. I want to ask her questions. I want to make her laugh. I want her to know. I want to forget. I want to remember. I want. I want.

No. Maybe, this time I’ll just stand and watch and marvel at just how pretty she is. As the wind blows harder, I‘ll stand near her, careful not to grab anything, simply turn my face upward, raise my hands, and enjoy the time together as the leaves cascade down around me. As beautiful as it is, autumn never lasts. Winter is coming and I know it. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go play in the leaves.

The Dog Days of Blogs...

In a surprise move to some Washington insiders, President Obama announced today the creation of a new task force to deal with what he called a “pandemic issue of declining blog production.” The task force will be comprised of members from both parties and both houses of Congress, leaders from the IT community, and needy people with short attention spans who try to avoid work at all costs by constantly surfing the web looking for something to read.

Tom Jenkins, R-WA, head of the task force issued this statement regarding the formulation and mission of the new task force, “we in America, in the face of mounting economic gloom, massive layoffs, declining home values and shrinking retirement savings, now more than ever need blogs and bloggers to help take our collective minds off of the world at large, and back to where it belongs. We don’t need citizens all a “twitter” focusing on things like the fiscal responsibility of its elected officials, on things like healthcare, and foreign policy. No, we here in Washington really “digg” it when you people get lost in the blogosphere mindlessly soaking up the minutia of things ranging from Albanian Algebra to Zebras in Zaire. This is a much better use of your time.”

Citing statistics compiled by Citizens for Missing or Exploited Blogs, Jenkins went on to say “blog production has shown a steady decline since the second quarter of 2008. More alarmingly, blog start-ups have declined by 57% year over year.”

When asked to explain possible reasons behind this trend Jenkins had this explanation. “We’re uncertain at this time as to the impetus behind the blog crisis in America. Perhaps it’s a renewed attention to efficiencies and better use of corporate time at the office in the face of increasing layoffs. Too many unemployed people out there willing to work a job for a third less than you are, so don’t get caught blogging at work. Maybe blogging is seasonal and a cold, bitter winter is upon us. For all we know, our GBP, or Gross Blog Production, is inexplicably tied to our nations GNP. As our economic fortunes rise and fall, so will our blogs. “

“One thing is certain”, according to Jenkins, “we cannot sit idly by while Americans begin to spend less time on fruitless, meaningless pastimes and more time on contemplative thought about the world around them. History proves this is never good for us, err..I mean the country.”

If You're Near KC This Weekend Come On Down...

All Aboard
for a Birthday Party
to benefit
Children’s Mercy Hospital

Date: Saturday, March 14

Time: 2-4 p.m.

Place: Harrisonville Community Center
2400 Jefferson Parkway

Everyone is invited to join us for trainloads of fun!
No RSVP necessary

Dear Family & Friends,

We hope you will be able to join us for the Birthday Party on March 14. We hope this becomes an annual event to celebrate Cade's life and to build awareness about the wonderful programs and people at Children's Mercy Hospital.

This is a family-friendly party with plenty to do for the kids, but we hope you'll come even if you do not have children. The "tickets" for this train ride are free. Come and enjoy some fun and learn a little about the great things Children's Mercy provides for our children.

There will also be an opportunity to give a "birthday gift" to CMH in the form of a donation. Each year, this event will benefit one program or area at Mercy. This year's beneficiary is the Child Life program. During the party, there will be an opportunity for the adults to learn about the Child Life program while the children visit game and craft "stations." If you cannot attend the party, but would like to give a "birthday gift," we've enclosed a return envelope. All donations are tax deductible.

We also encourage you to invite a friend or two. The Birthday Party is open to all because we want everyone to know about the great things happening at Children's Mercy.

We can't imagine a better way to spend a Saturday afternoon than playing games, eating cake, watching children have fun, and enjoying each other's company, so please join us for the first annual Birthday Party for CMH.

See you the 14th!
Bill, Jill & Evan

Idol I Don't

OK People. Let's just say this fella sounded like something that rhymes with Anoop...

The twisting and the hands? What...

Mix these two together and it's like going to a restaurant in a foreign country and ordering the special you saw in the window. It would be all spicy and swishy and exotic. You would be happy with yourself for not getting the same old thing and you can tell your friends you ate it. But at the end, though, you have to ask yourself "Am I going to be OK? I can't die from this can I? My colon's not going to seize up like a P.O.'d python and curl me into the shape of a "Q" or anything..Right? Surely I'm not the only one who has eaten this...Why you all looking at me like that? Dear sweet Mother of Mildred, someone get me some penicillin or something!"

Watchman Not Watchable

I admit to being a little nerdy. My nerdy pleasure comes in the form of super hero movies. Seen them all. Simple, predictable, usually someone’s falling in love, lots of stuff gets beat up and blown up, and in the end the good guys win.

Little guy’s away at grandma’s house. So, I drop mom at the mall and head to the theatre to see The Watchman. Was kind of excited about it actually.

Dear gracious Laverne.

The villain is not some mutated nuclear accident with six arms and a predisposition to lengthy soliloquies in the heat of battle. Nope. It’s us, or better stated, the U.S. along with our Russian friends. We're the bad guys. The good guys, just FYI, aren’t all so good. In fact, some of them are downright scoundrels. The story is jerky, it’s two and half hours long, and there’s nudity for, well, just because I guess. Note to the screenwriters: I don’t want to see two supers going at it. Unnecessary. That’s like something that should be going on back at the Hall of Justice or in a secret lair, not for the world to see. Wrong.

Here’s the kicker. One of the so called heroes, Dr. Manhattan, is not really sure he likes humanity, yet goes on to expose his own humanity on several occasions. Seriously, the dude is weird and blue and strutting around with his frank and beans out for the world to see. I don’t care if he is “Super” let’s dress the freak shall we.

Come on people.

Left the theatre thinking “you know mortal’s not that bad. Clothed and Mortal.” Yes, thank you.

It's All Relative

My brother's oldest boy tagged along with us this year at Write About Jesus, sitting in some great classes, listening in on some open critiques.  Apparently, he paid close attention.  

Yesterday they found out the piece he submitted to the University of Missouri's COMP program, in the Junior Division, won first place.  Along with first place came a check for $400.

He's 11, by the way.

Know what that means gentle readers?  He's already made more money songwriting than his uncle and old man combined.

He-he-he...  

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday...

“In yet another shameless attempt to provide more public attention to their already over saturated teen idols, agents for both Miley Cyrus and Taylor Swift have announced that the pop divas have agreed to appear in next month’s UFC’s Battle Royale in Las Vegas...”

No, not really, but I’d so pay to see it gentle readers.

Miley would be stalking the ring with that pouty look she’s famous for, smack talking, trying to scare the pee out of Taylor with the barky, throaty alto she’s working. Taylor would whip some sort of Ninja throwing stars and nun-chucks out of the ridiculous sleeves she’s always wearing.

Maybe they’d knock each other out and we all might get a much needed respite from seeing them everywhere for a little while. For the love of all things holy, take a break why don’t ya.

Word

She mixed her metaphors a little, but still, I understood what she meant.

"An ounce of advice is worth a gallon of example."

Yes Ma'am, you are correct. Indeed you are.

Random Name Dropping

From the Free A$* Press. Came out today.
Notice the name of the weather guy?

What in the world......

I read this guy on a routine basis. I laugh out loud a lot. Mind you, those that can be easily offended should read his stuff with care. I think it's a PG rated mostly, but it can get a bit saucy at times. This entry is totally clean, however. Makes me giggle. His production level, funny stuff day in and day out, is really impressive.


Posted: Partly posted with a 30-percent chance of spelling errors



LINCOLN, Neb. -- In a surprise announcement that led to a statewide panic, the Weather Channel reported today that a massive capital letter "H" is headed right for the state of Nebraska.



"Our Doppler 12,000 weather prediction system has never been wrong," said Weather Channel spokesperson Bill Filer. "That big letter H is taller than North Dakota and is headed right for Lincoln, Neb. People need to take cover. This is the big mild drier one!"



The Weather Channel has never predicted a letter H of this size or scope. Its current status is a category-14-point Times New Roman which may increase to a category-18-point Hot and Melty font. However, the Weather Channel reports that Nebraska's army reservists are working with the National Guard on a solution.



"They plan to deploy a giant letter 'L' to chase away the 'H'," Filer added.
http://www.freeasspress.com/2009/03/weatherman-predicts-giant-h-to-hit.html

Watched It

Watched it? Waited until the family went to bed.

I had no idea military deaths were handled that way. Very moving.

Did well through most of it. They showed some photos of the young man, the actual marine in the story who was killed in action, at the end.

That did it. Don't mind telling you gentle readers that I was a blubbering heap for about five minutes.