BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

I went to college.

More than one of them, actually. I have all sorts of college credits racked up in different areas of study. Odds are many of them have expired, much like a gallon of milk from 1991, but I’m sure there are a few that still haven’t reached their “use or freeze by” date. However, one of the things I don’t have to show for all of that studying is a piece of paper. Well… I have all manner of pieces of paper, to be honest. What I’m talking about is the proverbial “sheepskin.” That piece of faux parchment, vellum, what-have-you, that officially attaches a pair (or more) of letters from the alphabet as a suffix to my name.

So, nope. I don’t have an AA. Never even been to a meeting. I have, however, ridden on their airplanes more times than I care to count.

And, I also don’t have a BA, Baracus or otherwise. I do, however, “piddy da foo” who thinks s/he is better than me just because they have a couple of letters that allow them to wear gaudy jewelry.

Nor do I have a BS, even though I’m pretty damn good at spouting it when I need to do so. All you have to do is check my blog for evidence of that fact. Truth is, I should have a PhD in BS. An official Piled high and Deep in BullSh*t. Yep. That sounds like the perfect degree for me, but alas, I have neither.

I also don’t have a MA. I had one, but she passed away back in 1987. That’s a whole different story. And nope, no MS either… Well, actually that’s not quite true. E K doesn’t do the Mrs. thing, so I guess I sort of have a Ms. Although, one doesn’t really have The E K. She has you. It’s sort of a control thing with her.

So… Why didn’t I ever bother to get myself a set of letters to append to my name? Or, if the college recruiter who was courting me so hard back in nineteen-cough-cough had been given her way, a D and an R to put in front of my name – in the form of an MD sort of Dr.

Well, in her case it’s because I don’t particularly care for sick people, but that’s another story entirely.

In the case of any of the other paired up, tripled up, or screwed up selections from the alphabet, it’s simple. I became fed up with academia. Why? Because I figured it out too soon. What did I figure out? That’s simple too. I figured out that sticking a mess of letters behind my name wouldn’t make me happy. They wouldn’t accomplish much of anything, really, other than wave a flag to the world that was meant to say, “I know a whole bunch of sh*t because all of these other people say I do.” Besides, all I’ve ever really wanted to do is write books, and that’s what I do. If I was writing a textbook about Quantum Physics I could maybe understand the need for a PhD (although, as I said, all it does is denote that someone else thinks I know what I’m talking about – right up until they disagree with me.) Truth is, I really don’t see where a degree would convince people to buy fiction—

“Hey, Joe. Have you read those fictional suspense-thrillers by M. R. Sellars? He has a PhD in Basket Weaving.”

“Well damn, Fred… A PhD? I’m going to rush out and buy the whole series!”

Yeah… I just don’t see it.

Now, I’m certainly not diminishing the accomplishment of those who seek those letters. I’m just saying I wasn’t cut out for committing a mess of silliness to memory so that a bunch of folks who really don’t give a rat’s ass about anything other than the size of their office, or where the next grant is coming from can certify that I know it. Truth is some of my best friends are packing around AAs, BAs, BSs, and MAs. My niece is sporting a PhD. Am I proud of their accomplishments? Hell yes. Do I feel like I need to spend 250K (minimum) to get myself some Alphabet Bling for my name?  Not so much.

There’s also the issue of what to do with all that memorization once I, well, you know, memorize it. Teach? Why? So that I can tell a bunch of other folks that they know what I know? Doesn’t really seem like true critical thinking to me. (Don’t take that the wrong way. I also have many friends and relatives who are teachers and I think they are great. If that is what they love doing, I support them and I also think they are NOT paid enough. So, I have nothing against teachers. I just think that I am better suited to entertain.)

So… Why am I writing about college? Well, that’s simple too. My daughter is friggin’ brilliant. Ever since Kindergarten she’s been in the gifted and talented program at her school, and she has also qualified for, and been attending, College for Kids classes during the Summer and Winter sessions. Learning stuff. Quenching her thirst for knowledge, and racking up points toward admission into college when she reaches that age. At this very moment I am sitting in a study area of the science building of one of the local Community Colleges while she is attending her full day of classes. Yep, I’m writing this blog from Kahllidge. (Obviously just a bit in advance of its early morning deployment. Gotta love scheduling on WordPress.)

However, I don’t guess that fully explains why I’m writing about it, now does it?

Well, I can sum it up this way. Earlier I ran into a gaggle of the students – this batch was actually younger than my daughter. There they were, wandering the halls of academia on their way to their next class, complete with Garanimals, Spiderman backpacks, and serious expressions plastered onto their little faces. The kind of serious expressions that made them look painfully constipated.

All in all, they sorta reminded me of me way back when I was in college…

More to come…

Murv

So, the other day I posted a Facebook status update that seemed to spark a small firestorm. Well, maybe not a firestorm. Maybe just a box of strike anywhere matches. A lot of flame, really fast, but then sorta gone unless it gets fuel.

Anywho, here’s the stat update:

The overall gist of the flaming box-o-matches came in the form of several “What?”, “Huh?”, and “Say it ain’t so!” sorts of comments. There were also a few direct email type communications taking me to task for being a big doody-head, all because I apparently OWE everyone. However, I pretty much ignored those. The real reason I am writing this blog is to address the “What?” and “Huh?” comments that came from people who either didn’t understand what I was saying, or in some cases, who completely misinterpreted what I was saying.

So here’s the deal: I’m not deleting my Facebook account. That would just be all kinds of stupid, now wouldn’t it? I’m also NOT going to stop writing. Not yet anyway. I suspect I will eventually, but by then I expect to be dead.

All I was trying to say is that I am NOT going to be putting a huge amount of effort into being the online entertainment for everyone on my “friends” list.

Why?

Well, there are various reasons, but let’s start with this: I didn’t join Facebook to play Farmville, Mafia Wars, Befuddled Blatz, or any of that other crap. I joined it as a marketing tool. (GASP!) Yes. I am on Facebook to advertise myself and my books. Not to play games. Not to add as many people to my “friends list” as possible. Not to “be virtually social.”

Now, I will grant you that I DO use Facebook to stay in touch with out-of-town friends, and even some in-town friends. I’ve even used it to reconnect with some family, but let’s face it – 2300+ friends? I don’t think so. Hell, I don’t even know 2300 people. Therefore, we obviously have a situation there, and that situation is that the vast majority of the people on my friends list are actually fans. Nothing wrong with that. Not complaining. Simply illustrating the fact that I am on Facebook to MARKET and ADVERTISE.

And that is what I have been doing. That is exactly what the “Punny Floor Show” has been. Me entertaining people in order to raise “brand awareness.” However, as we know with any commercial on television, or billboard on the highway, eventually an ad campaign wanes in effectiveness. If it didn’t then Black and White Speedy Alka-Seltzer commercials would still be gracing our screens.

So there you have it. Me putting on the pun hat and getting myself a nasty case of swamp ass daily, all in order to raise brand awareness worked for a while. Now it doesn’t anymore. Sure, there are folks who are entertained by the interaction, but it isn’t selling books. In fact, what eventually happened is that I began getting more and more friend requests from people who just wanted to watch the show, but didn’t want to pay the cover charge (i.e. visit a bookstore and buy a book or two. Moreover, a good number of them even claimed that they didn’t like to read and gave me grief over updates that mentioned my books. All they wanted was for me to be funny and entertaining. For free. I’m still trying to figure out how that translates into Ramen Noodles for Murv. My guess is that these folks are related to the people who download music, books, and movies from Torrent sites because they are entitled to them.)

So, maybe this makes me a big asshole. Maybe it doesn’t. The point is, I’m not leaving Facebook. I’m just not going to waste my time behind the keyboard playing the online clown when it is no longer an effective marketing tool.

Yeah, I know, me being pragmatic. Weird. Didn’t even know I had it in me, did you?

More to come…

Murv