BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Yo and stuff…

So, I just got back from Ohio… Yes, I went back to Ohio, but the city was still there… Not MY city, but then my name isn’t Chrissy, and I’m not pretending, so hey… (Hopefully everyone is getting that reference… If not…well…I guess I’m just showing my age again…)

Anywho, I was in Ohio for the First Annual Earth Warriors Festival. This fantastic gig was organized by Heather of Violet Flame Gifts in Newark, OH, and an amazing staff of folks who worked their tails off and hearts out to make sure the fest was a rousing success… They had a great turnout for a first time festival, and what was even more impressive was the fact that after the remnants of Ike tore up their original venue, this incredible crew managed to find a new venue and have it ready to go, all in the matter of two weeks. And, even with the last minute change they drew in a more than respectable crowd.

The first night was pretty much staff and presenter time, with all of us hanging out around the bonfire telling stories and having a few drinks. Due to the size of the venue, they had rented some golf carts for the staff to use – mainly to shuttle folks around, carry excess stuff, and be able to respond quickly to needs or situations. Well… as we know, when Morrison and I get together there can be some mischief. We happened to be standing on the back patio of the dining hall after supper and I was pacing around looking at the area. Upon peering around the corner of the building I saw a golf cart sitting there. Thinking it might be one of the staff folks I wandered around to say hey and visit for a bit. However, all I found was the golf cart… The problem here is that it still had the keys in it, as well as a radio tuned to the staff channel. Apparently the driver was inside the dining hall doing whatever… Anyway, I motioned Morrison over and then next thing you know we had committed Grand Theft Golfcart.

Fortunately for us the staff – and Heather – found this amusing. In fact, at one point, after appropriating a paper chef’s hat from the dining hall and fitting it to my head, Heather and I raced about the site in the cart, her swinging a large plastic stirring paddle, and we “cooked up some trouble”… There are supposed to be pictures… I’ll see if I can get my hands on them.

Day two found us doing a seminar to a wonderful group of attendees, meeting up with George Knowles – owner of Controverscial.com, and generally hanging out. That evening there was a rousing concert around the bonfire with the Dragon Ritual Drummers. They are a great group of guys out of Canada, and they can definitely pound out some killer beats. We had a funny moment with them earlier in the day – Morrison and I had just stumbled out of the presenters cabin and were having a cup of coffee before heading off to our respective shower houses. The DRD guys walked by and I commented that they looked much brighter and awake than we did. They replied, “That’s because we’re Canadian.”

Day three brought us back around to another seminar with a great group of attendees, followed by a book signing and hanging out with folks – including the Pie-Rats (well, that’s what I call them)… The pirate camp was a blast, and there was plenty of “Yarring” and official Grog to go around. Morrison and I were also fortunate enough to share the presenter cabin with Wendy Rule and her son Reuben. They were absolutely lovely folks who were great to hang out with, and Wendy put on a killer concert Saturday night with Reuben accompanying on the accordion. Haunting stuff and the whole crowd was mesmerized.

Throughout the entire fest, Silver the Kitchen Witch, was doing everything in her power to kill us – By that I mean she was cooking up a storm and everything was so fantastic we just kept eating, even when we weren’t hungry. So we pretty much ate until we burst. Not only were there three huge and fantastic meals each day, but on top of that there was a hospitality cabin where we could go to kick back, and Silver and her staff kept it stocked with all manner of munchies – Crudites, chips, M&M’s, coffee, antipasto platters, and some absolutely killer meatballs… These meatballs were so good that when I went in for a cup of coffee and smelled them I said to myself, “hey, I gotta try one of these…” Well, it didn’t stop there. Before I knew it “one of these” had turned into a half dozen…

So, if all that weren’t enough I got to hang out with Heather, her husband Max, Phelina, Kira, Kim, Alan, Ron, Bill & Maxine, the pirates, and a whole ton of other good friends whom I hadn’t seen in quite a while…

Now, that was the good… (Actually, it was the great!) … What about the bad and the fuglee…

Well, it certainly wasn’t possible for the universe to allow me that much fun without slapping me in the back of the head… It seems that every single time I fly out of Columbus, OH, I end up getting delayed and this trip was no different. It all started a month or so back when they changed my straight through flight to one with a connection in Chicago. Then, yesterday I went to the airport a little early with Morrison so that the festival folks wouldn’t have to make two trips to the airport. I figured I could occupy myself for that extra couple of hours no problem… But after I got Morrison on her plane and away, I kicked back to relax and soon discovered that my flight was getting more and more delayed according to the monitors… Well, eventually I had to see a gate agent to have my flight changed in Chicago because I wasn’t going to arrive there in time to make the connection… Well, they got me on the first thing out of there with seats, but I still ended up not getting home until around 10:30 last night. So, from around 11:30 AM yesterday until 10:30 PM last night, I was either in the air or in an airport. I actually could have driven and been home sooner…

But, oh well. That’s just one of those things and I blame American Airlines for it…

So, now I have to wash clothes and re-pack. Thursday I fly out for DC and Morrison & I start off on the book release tour. Hopefully I’ll be able to check in from the road…

More to come…

Murv

Well, actually, I have been, but that’s a different story.

So, why do I want to be on TV? For the fame? The glory? The hot chicks?

To be honest, none of the above.

Let’s step back for a minute. Not to TV land, but to early last week in Murvland. For reasons that don’t bear exploring at this juncture I had to make a mad dash to the hardware store during a downpour. For yet still other reasons that don’t bear exploring, while in the parking lot of said store I fell. I fell hard. I fell hard three times. Onto concrete. Wet concrete. Hard, wet, concrete.

Okay, you get the idea.

Anyhow, I was bruised. I have a purple hip and a purple stomach where I fell on top of the item I was carrying, (yeah, for a dyed in the wool Browncoat to have a “purple belly” it really sucks). I also have shattered cartilage in one knee, and a lot of achey muscles. I’m not as bad off as I was last week, but I’m still a bit sore here and there.

Now, this incident didn’t stop me from going on with my life. I didn’t end up in the hospital or anything that drastic. However, at 46 and some change one does not just get up, brush off, and go on as if nothing happened. No, that is reserved for the 20 year olds… So, while I was still moving about, it was slow going, with a lot of pain. Yes, I groaned, moaned, and even whined a bit.

What in the name of Pete does this have to do with being on TV, you ask…

No, there weren’t any cameras in the parking lot filming me… Well, actually I don’t know if there were or not. Maybe there were and I just haven’t seen the Youtube video just yet. But, that’s neither here nor there… I fell, I hurt, I moved slow…

Now, on TV it is a different story. I watched the season finales of Bones and House the other night and discovered that the world inside the tube is radically different. People almost completely heal within hours or even minutes. For the truly horrid injuries it might take a couple of days, but that’s just for the REALLY life threatening stuff.

For instance – On Bones one of the main characters took a penetrating round from a revolver. I didn’t get a good enough look at it to say what caliber, but it was at a minimum a .38. Moreover, the wound was in his right chest. He wasn’t wearing body armor or a bullet proof vest either. He bled a lot. He passed out. We didn’t know whether or not he would survive. Something on the order of one week later (maybe even less) he was not only up moving around, but tackling bad guys and waving his arms about. The only evidence of the wound was that he was wearing a bandaid. Other than that, he was just fine and dandy. Now, I won’t even go into the rest of the stupidity that tried to pass for a storyline in that episode, but suffice it to say, unless Patrick Duffy shows up in a shower at the beginning of the first episode next season, they’ve lost me as a viewer.

On House we had yet another semi-miracle. Of course, Hugh and the crew perform those weekly, but this one was really cool (in some ways, literally). A patient who had been severely injured in a bus crash, then purposely put into hypothermia, including filling her lungs with slurry, is warmed up and re-awakened (basically so they can tell her she is dead as soon as they turn off the bypass machine or in a few hours, whichever comes first). She lays on the bed and carries on a clear and coherent conversation with her boyfriend so they can say goodbye. The fun part about this (besides the enormous technical inaccuracies that a layman could spot) was the fact that this two part episode only spanned something like 24 hours in TV time. What I found really amazing about this is how clear, coherent, and without pain she was. You see, when my appendix burst several years ago I spent a week in the hospital. I won’t go into the gory details, but I wasn’t clear and coherent for at least 3 days. I wasn’t without pain for better than a week. After what she endured, and with the limited time frame, I’m thinking maybe a handful of “ouches” and an “I forgot what I was saying, sorry about that,” or two would have been in order.

So, you see… That’s why I want to be on TV. It obviously doesn’t hurt as much when you get injured, and apparently it doesn’t hurt anywhere near as long. I could definitely do with the not hurting.

But, even if I don’t get to be on TV, I suppose I will never write for it either. Why? Because, in my mind if I write something it has to make sense. Sure, even I have elements to my stories that require suspension of disbelief, but you are only allowed just so much of that before suspension turns into “you’ve gotta be effing kidding me…”

You see, suspending it is one thing. Shooting it in the head, burying it in the back yard, and forgetting you ever saw it is completely different. It’s also not very nice.

More to come…

Murv