A Sample Birthday Social Media Post

 

I wish everyone would take a few moments and do something interesting for their close friends and family on social media. We don’t have to spend hours of our cramped free time to surprise someone – and we don’t have to do it every time someone has a birthday or special occasion.

Below is an example of a typical FB birthday post I did. I took an old, familiar joke and personalized it. I also made a picture and while this particular one isn’t multi-layered, it used a running joke I have with the birthday girl. My friend resembles Helen Mirren, so I tagged her in the photo to further confuse friends and family. I usually don’t stress about getting it perfect, or if there are errors. If the effort and thought don’t shine through, it was going to fall flat anyway.

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Post: “Since it is Marilyn Fisher’s birthday, I thought it best to deviate from the expected trite social media post. In order to pay homage to the birthday anniversary of Marilyn, it seemed more appropriate to share a personal anecdote, one that demonstrates her level of personal warmth and humor.

I first met Marilyn a few years when she and Larry resided in Northwest Arkansas.

I had left my car parked on Holcomb Street so that I could walk along the tree-lined sidewalks of Maple Avenue, leading to the hospital in Springdale. It was a beautiful, serene spring late morning and I was admiring the quaint houses, decorative fences and the variety of birds.

About 100 yards along Maple Avenue, I looked up and saw a tall, older gentleman casually walking along the same side of the road as I was. His hands were in his pockets. He was wearing a bowling hat, a bright green shirt that had the name “Larry” printed above the pocket, and I could hear him humming the first verse to the “Ukulele Song,” his feet stomping to the rhythm in his head.

As he approached me, he suddenly stopped in his tracks and turned toward the wooden spruce fence on my side of the road, peering fixedly at it.

I listened intently.

I heard someone softly chanting “Thirteen, thirteen, thirteen, thirteen.”

My curiosity had gotten the best of me, so I cautiously moved past “Larry” and toward the wooden fence along Maple Avenue. I could see a hole in the fence slightly higher than waist level. Again, the soft whisper of “thirteen, thirteen, thirteen, thirteen” could be heard over the trees rustling overhead.

I leaned down as close as I could to the fence, trying to look directly through the hollowed out hole in the fence. The second I peered through the hole, a finger darted through it and poked me right in the eye!

Then, the chanting changes to “fourteen, fourteen, fourteen, fourteen.”
I hear Larry howling with laughter behind me.

That is how I met Marilyn (from beyond the fence) and her husband Larry for the first time.

It’s how I also discovered how Marilyn used her lunch breaks at work, trying to get to “thirty” with their well-choreographed ruse by the sidewalk fence.

She still calls me “Fourteen” to this day.”               (End of post.)

In the comments, I added specific details about when the fake picture was taken, the circumstances, etc. Most people have a great sense of humor; even if they do not, they often play along in the ridiculousness of the story and details.

All I ask is to consider telling a personal story or be a little creative. Social media is only as good as what we put into it. If you are nervous about the risk of not being funny, or worse, not being engaging, don’t be. Trying to make personal connections through laughter or sharing is almost never a mistake. If you are nervous about sharing on social media, it might not be the best idea for you to use it except as a connection tool.

 

 

 

A Moment In Time

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Early December fiery 5 o’clock sun signaling its defeat and imminent rest for the night.
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Behind, a fire truck pulls forth, signaling the close of a day. A squirrel braves the cooling pavement, dashing wildly.
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Ahead, the festive lights of the square blaze by unseen hand and invisible switch, the season of mirth and merry heralded.
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A jogger, a biker, and ambling walkers approach, their demeanor one of determination and process. None sees that the sun sets for them, too, but perhaps not today.
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Below, the recent widower arrives first; his tired gait a testament to his apt fatigue. A door is held open and he enters, frightened of a possible future absent his own heart.
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A childhood friend, alone, reluctant, marching toward the relentless and yet singular ritual, hands in pockets, shuffling.
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We are all observers, watching even ourselves from our own windows, peering askance at others traveling, peculiar yet familiar, not wishing to look directly at our shared loss.
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A gathering of souls trapped in their bodies, gathered to witness and cherish one of their own. Laughter, hugs, memories and the discomfort of failed words, all tinged with appreciation.
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For a delicate moment, brief as it may be, they swim together in love, toward one another, bonded by an absence that burns.
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A whisper, a tickle in my mind. “Let my life be so,” I ponder, a secret smile touching my lips.
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Let me return to my hazy nap, the world receding, taking its perpetual promise of unknowing with it.
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Hers was a fine life, the fruits of which are still ripening, not soon to fade from memory. Her eyes now averted toward another promise, a good life, a good person, a world of friends and family.
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PS: “Life is never more meaningful than in our shared small steps, nor more appreciated than in times of bittersweet regard.”

Festivus Card 2015

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I’m posting this picture I used of my holiday card, for those too scared to share their mailing address with me. I don’t blame you. I could have found you using property records, voter registration, or even Intelius, but in the celebration of this yuletide season, I abstained from excessive stalkery – and not just because of the restraining orders. (I’m talking to you, Brian, on that last part.)

I know many of you won’t send me a Christmas card this year, and that’s fine. I’ll be making my own on your behalf and secretly mailing my version of the card you should have had to select members of your family. (Let the fun begin!)

Coincidentally enough, if you are upset about not being included on my exclusive mailing list, remember to take note and mention it during your own Festivus celebration and the “Airing of Grievances” on the 23rd. Festivus doesn’t require observation on that day per se, but technically you don’t have to wear pants to church either, although things will deteriorate rapidly if you don’t.

If you partake of the “Feats of Strength” portion of the Festivus celebration, I recommend that you give each person at your house a micro-dose of valium, available cheaply on those questionable websites you claim to know nothing about. Your odds of triumph will increase mightily if you do so. If you do pin your opponents, go ahead and yank a handful of hair out as you stand in victory. (They gotta learn sometime not to challenge you. If you are wrestling an older person, pull their ear or nose hair out.)

Festivus in no way contradicts the celebration of Christmas or any other holiday. With Festivus, you can use the unadorned aluminum Festivus pole as a coat rack, or perhaps even as a weapon to hit your Uncle James or brother Mike with – because let’s face it, you know one of them is going to arrive half in the bag or start arguments with your in-laws.

By airing your grievances, you can appreciate your family and those you love with a renewed sense of holiday cheer. Also, if they really irritate you, you can challenge them to feats of strength. (This is known as a win-win.) Christmas is a time of love and celebration, but the family gets really antsy when people get thrown on top of the tree or through the front room window. With Festivus, it is almost expected. You can’t win “America’s Funniest Home Movies” without some breakage, so get in there with gusto and celebrate the hell out of Festivus.

(And as with any good complaint or fight, there is nothing like the sensation of sweet brotherhood or mutual love after a good argument. The make-up is worth the break-up, so to speak.)

For those displaying the proper attitude, you might even get to experience some “Festivus Miracles.” Christmas season has been known to work magic. Adding a tip of the hat toward Festivus to the usual mix can only sparkle your life with renewed magic and wonder. Lord knows we all need a little life glitter to brighten our days.

On a serious note, whether you celebrate Christmas, Festivus, or no holiday at all, I hope each of you has the chance to laugh and smile, even though many of us are secretly hurting during the holidays. The opportunity of the holiday is one of not forgetting those we’ve lost or the ghosts of holidays past, but to smile and make new memories with the people we hold dear. (Please go easy on the jokers of your tribe.) For most of us, we haven’t forgotten the complexity of life, just that each of us must continue to place one foot in front of the other, squeezing as much gusto from this life as we’ve been given the chance to get. Love, X

 

Sample Festivus Link  For those 3 people who somehow will claim they have NO idea what the majesty of Festivus might be all about. Have pity on them.

Random Thoughts I Forgot To Post

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I chose a picture from my “Dune” album for no specific reason, other than the voices in my head were playing both bagpipes and flutophone, the most cacophonous possible musical combination in the universe.

(Unless my sister-in-law is singing again. One time she was singing in a choir on television. A sign language interpreter was signing the performance. When my sister-in-law started singing a solo, the sign language interpreter gave her the finger. True story!)
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When I first heard that Jose’s was closing, I was scared that it might have been the Springdale location. I need it to continue on – otherwise I won’t have a “zero” on my quality scale.
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I ordered a cup of coffee. The clerk said “No, you can’t have one.” I hate the dry cleaners. And Chad, too – that guy stinks for sure.
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The service was like a well-broken machine. (A restaurant review…)
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I’m staying at a Holiday Inn Express tonight. So expect really smart things from me tomorrow. I had lunch at a place so disorganized I half-expected the “Hoarders” TV show crew to pop out of the back room at any moment. (PS By the end of the culinary experience, I was hoping it would happen.)

Ideas By The 1.8 Dozens…

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I should be brave enough to not use words like ‘intrepid.’
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If businesses want to encourage capitalism, they should charge us five cents each time we use a debit or credit card. And then every one millionth time, give someone the $50,000 that is accumulated – or to a tax-deductible charity of your choosing.
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If you are the type of person who thinks getting a flu shot gives you the flu, there is no punchline for this joke.
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“Carbox” is a much better name for “garage.”
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True fact: the average baseball games has only 18 minutes of actual action -about 17.89 minutes more than I’ve ever witnessed at one.
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I’m posting this status update with my new cellphone, the one I just picked up at the store. I wish the store security guard would stop chasing me through the parking lot.
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“No Results Found” would be a great band name. Don’t believe me? Google it.
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I had to cook black eyed peas for 9 people last week. I felt like Rocky Balboa preparing them but undoubtedly looked crazy punching the bowl so many times.
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This week, I cooked Black Eyed Peas. The screaming just wouldn’t stop.
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This quip is sponsored by Toyota, the company who brought you heated radio knobs. I mean really, really hot knobs, the kind that elicit screams when you touch them. You’re welcome.
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Eggs: Nature’s way of convincing you to eat snot.
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I started smoking yesterday. The couch did too. Then the curtains, followed by the entire house. My bad.
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I was so poor I couldn’t afford to stay at La Quinta Inn. I stayed at La Septima Inn instead.
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If you can’t spell “concealed,” even on social media, maybe a gun is the last thing you should have?
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Americans hate the Metric system, mainly because it is not cool. We should hire the musical group “The Proclaimers” to sing their #1 song “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)” to encourage people to switch.
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The weirder the joke, the funnier you look in underwear.

“This is not a daycare” Commentary

Warning: Political/ social issue post about the “This is not a daycare. It’s a university!” gentleman. (President of the Oklahoma Wesleyan University, Dr. Everett Piper.) If you don’t like reading political or social commentary, skip now. (Or, if you dislike reading my particular viewpoint, definitely skip now.)

My take isn’t what you expect it to be. I did a lot of reading and followed the trail. Skip to the last line of this post if you want a concise message.

Mr. Piper makes a lot of money as president of a private, tax-exempt religious university. And that’s okay. But it does matter that he is an employee of a religious university and that he himself is rich enough to travel around and complain. He spends a lot of time on the air, both TV and radio, mainly espousing some very strident “political correctness” mantras.

Everett’s latest quip is going around social media because of a blog post he wrote, stating, “This is not a daycare. It’s a university.” (Here’s the link to his original blog post, which takes a different tenor when you read it after reading my commentary: http://goo.gl/CjSt1s.) For my commentary, I am ignoring the content of his blog post, as my thesis is one of bias.

As a populist bumper sticker, his quip and blog post is going to be a resounding success. People love the “anti-coddling” message from pundits. It has always played well. It plays exceedingly well to those who divide the world into the two camps of “us” vs. “them,” with the other camp being those who want a secular society or the freedom to be something other than Christian. (Or don’t define their Christianity in the same specific way that Mr. Piper might.) If you are the one being silenced or ridiculed, of course, you have an entirely different viewpoint. Christians hold the current majority here in the United States, although the range of beliefs and versions of it in all honesty seem to have splintered it into 2 main groups: exclusion or inclusion.

Ignoring the message of his blog post, the key point to note is that he is the president of a university – a position which gives him access to public and private forums anywhere conservative views are welcome. He doesn’t appear in non-partisan or secular panels or shows willingly. In other words, he himself isn’t keen on open discussion or free thinking.

Interestingly, he often complains about the “war on Christians,” as well as the intolerance of those who find fault with religious intolerance itself. (If that sounds complicated, it simply means that he should be able to discriminate against those who don’t follow his specific version of religion and that those who disagree shouldn’t be able to question him about doing so.) He makes insinuating references to the White House and other religions. He often attends and participates in anti-gay conferences.

I get it. I really do. But…

Everyone sharing his latest quip should do so knowing that he is not revealing his bias openly to those who aren’t familiar with his message.

There is a reason he was so angry with the allegorical student in his blog post.The reason he used the “victimized” student as an example is that he sees himself as a victim. He feels victimized that he must deal with non-Christians on an even field and that society pushes him to be inclusive. He wants a society and school where he can tell the gays, non-Christians, anyone looked down upon by his version of religion, that they must be silent and accommodate his religion. Or else. He could let his life teach by example but he prefers to ensure that others don’t have the opportunity to live differently.

Many people are going to see his bumper sticker version of “no coddling.” They will share the quote without reading or investigating to see his bias.And while Christians who agree with Mr. Piper on all the issues will still enthusiastically agree, there is a real danger in such thinking. When you are the majority, it is easy to silence opposing views. If the tables turn, however, you will want a society which ensures that religion remains the domain of personal choice.

He’s right: it isn’t a daycare. But if he isn’t espousing truth and learning without bias, it isn’t a university either. Universities don’t demand unified thinking, even if they are built in the spirit of Jesus, who himself was as rebellious as any thinker could possibly be.

 

My Uncle Looks Like Psy

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Psy, the Korean pop superstar, has a couple of incredibly cool songs out (Videos in comments). It hit me: this guy resembles both my mom and an uncle of mine, especially in the “Napal Baji” video. I’m posting a relevant picture of my mom as a reference, because my uncle would kill/murder/bludgeon me if he saw his picture on the internet. (Even if he looks so much like PSY I can’t unsee it.) If my mom were alive to see this, she would first offer a string of curses at me and then say something like, “Lord, what foolishness you get up to!” And 3 years later, ask me to see it over and over.

 

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Napal Baji -Video

T h o u g h t s

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I read an abridged book. I didn’t like it. Not because stuff was left out, but because cars kept honking at me for reading there.
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I am more than a label. I am two labels.
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A friend invited me over to do shots. He lost and I don’t know how to apply a tourniquet.
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The school fight song is the equivalent of that guy you have to invite to your social events.
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I’m not calling you lame, but you certainly are limping.
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Are you an “engine light on” kind of person?
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“It’s not the length of your life, but the width of your smile.” (A quote attributed to Marjay.)
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Helpful hint #7: Crayons should never be used to fill out an application. Or to draw helpful pictures in the margins.
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When interviewing, make eye contact, but not so much it looks like you are hypnotizing someone. Unless you are trying to get a job as a hypnotist – that’s the one exception.
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I think sometimes we should take a baggie with a sandwich in it to every restaurant. That way, if the service is slow or the food tastes like prison rations, we can look our waiter dead in the eye and say “Forget about it,” as we munch on what we brought.
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In any group of more than 3 people, if people are late, the group should always begin ordering and eating at the agreed time. There’s no sense enabling those who are usually late for social events.
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The friends who are angrily telling you all the ways you are living your life wrong on social media: those people should be called “Facebook priests.”
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The Handyman Creed: “Our guarantee: If you are not 100% satisfied with our work, get used to it.”
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PS: Do not use any business with ‘handyman’ in the name unless the guy who owns it is the guy who does it.
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Typical contractor motto: “No job is too small – because when we get our hands on something, it’s a big problem.”
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I was going to make a list of all the ways I need to improve my life, but I keep finding MENSA applications piled everywhere.
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Smoking is to good looks what a baseball hat is to presidential candidates.
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I’ve never watched a nature show wherein the footage of the pristine Montana wilderness is superimposed on a background of motorcycles.
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Seatbelt: required. Helmet: optional. Sounds smart to me.
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Johnson Police: We don’t have quotas, but could you please sign this form?
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Johnson Police: the antidote for good tourism marketing.
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Johnson Police: it says so right in our name.
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Johnson Police: The Barney Fife of NWA law enforcement. But without the sense of humor.
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Johnson Police: Be we CAN.
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