Tag: author

Brauts Away

“Walruses really don’t like tomatoes,” Bob said.

“I tried to tell you,” Woodruff replied.

“That was one grumpy walrus.”

“Who knew they could throw so far?”

Woodruff and Bob walked along the icy coast.  Bob pulled up the fury hood of his parka, to cover his bald head from the chilling winds.  Several brightly colored houses dotted the distant hilltop.

“I thought Greenland would be greener,” Bob said.

“Me too,” Woodruff agreed.  “Makes you wonder, if Iceland is even icy?”

“Yeah, or is the wholly land even wholly?”

“Exactly.”

“I’m freezing.”

“Why did you wear shorts?”

“You know I don’t own pants.”

“But you have a parka?”

“I traded a Sherpa twelve yaks for it.”

“Where did you get twelve yaks?”

“It’s a long story,” Bob said.  “But I started with just a paper clip and a half eaten baguette.”

“Epic,” Woodruff nodded.  A strong wind blew in their faces and whipped Bob’s hood off.  “This fresh air is invigorating.”

“It’s invigorating my nose hairs,” Bob said.  “Let’s fine some place out of the cold.”

“How about in there?” Woodruff said.  He pointed to a metal hatch, sticking up out of the sea at the end of a rickety old pier.

“Works for me.”

They jogged down the shoreline and skipped across the wooden planks of the old pier.  Woodruff stepped down off the pier onto the steel hatch and Bob hopped down beside him.

“Should we knock?” Woodruff asked.

“It’s good manners,” Bob said.

Woodruff banged on the lid to the hatch with a plastic penguin foot.

“Ahoy down there,” Woodruff called.

The only sound to be heard was the howling winds and the waves lapping up against the steel hull.

“Maybe no one’s home,” Bob said.

Woodruff shrugged and turned the round wheel on top the lid.  There was a whooshing noise, as air released from the hatch and Woodruff and Bob pulled the lid open.

“Whoah,” Woodruff’s voice echoed as he peered down the shaft.  There was a metal ladder that led down into the darkness.

“Cool!” Bob shouted so his voice would echo.

“Caca!” Woodruff yelled as they both chuckled from the echoes.

“Whooty Who!” Bob called.

“Wer is da?” a voice shouted up from the hole.

“Ich bin Woodruff un das ist Bob,” Woodruff replied.

“What did he say?” Bob asked.

“He asked who we are.”

“And what did you say?”

“I told him who were are.”

“Was willst du?” the voice asked.

“Nach aus der Kälte kommen,” Woodruff replied.

“Kommen runter,” the voice replied.

“He says we can come down,” Woodruff told Bob.

“Good deal,” Bob said as he hopped over the side and slid down the metal ladder.

Woodruff climbed down into the hatch and secured the lid to block the freezing winds.  They found themselves standing in a cramped passage with an old bald man with a crooked nose and a thick wool jacket.

“Guten morgen,” Woodruff greeted the old man.

“Guten morgen,” the old man replied.  “Ich bin Friedrich.”

“Ich freue mich, sie kennen zu lernen,” Woodruff said.

“Does he speak English, ‘cause this is all German to me,” Bob said.

“Yes, I speak English,” Friedrich said.

“Awesome,” Bob said.  “This is a cool underwater fort.”

“Das ist ein u-boot,” Friedrich said.

“A submarine?” Woodruff replied.  “So cool.  Could we have a ride?”

“Ja,” Friedrich said.

Woodruff and Bob followed Friedrich deeper into the hull.

“Have you ever had to fight a giant squid?  What’s tougher, a great white shark or a killer whale?  Do you know where Godzilla sleeps?  Is Jacque Cousteau nice?  Have you ever met James Cameron?” Bob barraged Friedrich with questions.

“Ist dein freund verrückt?” Friedrich asked Woodruff.

“Wahrscheinlich,” Woodruff replied.

“What did he say?” Bob asked.

“He said Jacque Cousteau is a total prima donna,” Woodruff lied.

“I knew it,” Bob said.

On the bridge, Friedrich pressed several buttons and the hum of the engines reverberated through the ship.  He pulled some levers and cranked some knobs while Woodruff and Bob gawked at all of the little blinking lights.  They grabbed on to the sides as the submarine lurched forward and cruised through the water.

Friedrich busied himself reading instruments and adjusting levers while Woodruff lowered the periscope.  Bob helped himself to some bread from a heaping plate full of meat on top of a small stool.

“What do you think this does?” Woodruff asked.  He looked down from the periscope and pointed to a round red button.

“I don’t know,” Bob said.  “Push it and find out.”

“Should we?” Woodruff asked.

Bob reached up and pushed the button.  There was a whooshing noise as the air pressure was released from somewhere deeper in the hull.

“Nein!” Friedrich shouted.

Woodruff and Bob pointed fingers at each other.

“Was hast du getan?” Friedrich asked.

“Du solltest keinen Knopf haben, den du nicht gedrückt hast.,” Woodruff said.

“What did you say?” Bob asked.

“I said he shouldn’t have a button he doesn’t want pushed,” Woodruff answered.

“What did the button do?” Bob asked.

“It launched a torpedo,” Friedrich grumbled.

There was the sound of a distance crash and crumbling outside the ship.  Bob’s eyes widened.

“That’s amazing,” Bob said to Woodruff.  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“We should launch these bratwursts out the torpedo bay,” Woodruff said.

“Yes!” Woodruff and Bob shouted together.

“Verrücktes,” Friedrich said.

Bob grabbed the plate of meat and led Woodruff to the torpedo bay with Friedrich limping along behind them.  Woodruff and Bob were disappointed to find that the shaft was much larger than the individual tubes of meat.

“This won’t work,” Bob complained.

“Friedrich,” Woodruff said.  “Hast du ein großes Rettungsfloß?”

“Ja,” Friedrich said and he hobbled off through a tiny metal doorway.

Woodruff and Bob searched through the submarine and gathered up all the food they could find.  They met Friedrich back in the torpedo bay and rolled all the food into the deflated life raft.  Before they could load it all the way into the port and close the door, there was a grinding sound above and beneath them.  The three of them were thrown to the floor as the ship came to an abrupt halt.  Welds and seams began to burst as something squeezed the ship from the outside.

“Was ist das?” Friedrich asked.

“Giant squid,” Woodruff and Bob whisper together as they looked at the ceiling above them.

“You think it talked with the walrus?” Woodruff asked.

“If it did, we’re in trouble,” Bob replied.

“Ich werde mit diesen Verrückten sterben,” Friedrich said.

“Yeah,” Bob replied, still eyeballing the crunching hull.  “What he said.”

“Quick, let’s fire this meat and appease the beast,” Woodruff said.

“Great idea!” Bob said.  They pushed the meat raft into the port and Woodruff pulled the cord to inflate as Bob closed the bay door and tightened the crank.

“Come on Friedrich,” Woodruff said.  “Push the button.  Schnell!”

Friedrich ran over to the red round button and slammed his fist down on it.  There was a whoosh and a pop, followed by a shriek beyond the metal tube.  The hull creaked and grinded as the pressure released and the submarine scuttled through the water once more.

“We did it!” Bob shouted.

Woodruff hugged Friedrich, who did not look happy about it and Bob danced around in a circle.

“That was close,” Woodruff said.

“That was the fourth time brautwurst has saved my life,” Bob said.

They ducked through the metal doorway and gathered back on the bridge.

“So where are we headed from here, Friedrich?” Woodruff asked.

“Das Mutterland,” Friedrich replied.

“Do you think Mutterland is even Mutter?” Bob asked.

You Can’t Get Mad From A Turnip

“It really is a versatile vegetable,” Bob said.

“You can say that again,” Woodruff mumbled with a mouth full of salad.

“But I didn’t say that,” Bob replied, as he shoved another fork full into his mouth.

Woodruff eyed his friend and shook his head.

“You can barbecue it, boil it, broil it, bake it, sauté it,” Bob continued as a half-eaten turnip rolled around in his pie hole.  “Pan fried, deep fried, stir-fried, flayed, cabbaged. There’s turnip-kabobs, turnip gumbo, turnip tacos, pineapple turnips, lemon turnips, coconut turnips, bacon turnips, turnip soup, turnip stew, turnip salad, turnip and potatoes, turnip burger, turnip sandwich, turnip pie…”

Bob swallowed his thoroughly chewed turnip remains and raised an eyebrow as he searched the deepest recesses of his turnip culinary database.

“That’s about it,” he concluded.

“Plus, it’s fun to say,” Woodruff added.

“Totally,” Bob agreed.  “Turnip, Turn up, Turniiiip.”

“Tuuuuuurnip,” Woodruff chimed in.  “TurNIP, turnip-turnip-turnip.”

They laughed hysterically and Bob wiped at a piece of turnip shrapnel that escaped from Woodruff’s mouth and landed on his cheek.  A short stocky bald man, with a scowl on his face, emerged from the kitchen wearing an apron and carrying a tray.  The man tossed two plates of turnip tacos in front of them and began to pick up the tower of plates collecting at the center of the table.

“No, wait,” Bob said.  “We’re stacking those so we can see how many platefuls we’ve eaten.”

The man grunted and set the stack back down on the table.  He turned and stomped back toward the swinging kitchen door.

“Thank you, my good man,” Woodruff called to the back of the man’s head.  “I think we’ll try the bacon wrapped turnips next.”

There was a crash on the other side of the swinging door as the man in the apron kicked it open and marched into the kitchen.

“I think he’s mad,” Bob said.  They paused and admired their tower of empty plates that nearly reached the ceiling.

“Hey, don’t hang up a sign if you don’t mean it,” Woodruff said, and pointed to the All-You-Can-Eat Turnips sign in the front window.

“What’s my credo, Woodruff?”

“Omne omnes vos-potest manducare signum est provocatione te dignum est.”

“That’s right,” Bob said.  “Every all-you-can-eat sign is a challenge to meet it.”

“Credo’s also fun to say.”

“You gotta have a credo.”

“That’s actually my credo.”

“Great credo.”

“Mm,” Woodruff said.  “These turnip tacos are amazing.”

“You said it.”

“No I didn’t.”

Woodruff and Bob furrowed their brows and surveyed one another for a moment.  When Bob consumed the last turnip taco Woodruff turned around and looked back toward the kitchen door.

“How long do you think it takes to wrap a turnip with bacon?”

“Dunno,” Bob said, after he swallowed his last bite.  “Hey Woodruff?”

“Yeah Bob?”

“I’m toying with the idea of going by Robbie.”

“But then we’d have to change our logo.”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

The scowling man in the apron returned from the kitchen and laid a pair of bacon wrapped skewers on the table.  The bacon was still sizzling when Bob scooped up the skewer nearest him and popped it in his mouth.

“Oh!” Bob yelped.  “Hot!”

“That’s it,” the man said with a frown.

“What’s it?” Woodruff asked.

“The turnips,” the man said.  “They’re finished.”

“Geez,” Bob moaned.  “I t’ink I burn’d my to’gue.”

“They seem nice and finished,” Woodruff said.  “Might we get some turnip ice cream for my friend’s tongue.”

“We’re out!” shouted the man.  “It’s done, gone, caput, no more turnips!”

“No more turnips?” Woodruff asked.

“What’s the matter with you two?” the man demanded.  “Nobody eats that many turnips.  It’s a gimmick.  It’s supposed to bring people in.  They think, ‘Oh, All-You-Can-Eat’ so they come in and pay seven fifty and then remember after the first plate that they don’t like turnips.  That sign has worked for twenty-eight years, until you two came along!”

He stormed off to the kitchen and briefly got his apron caught in the swinging door.  Bob gulped down the glass of chocolate goat milk next to his plate.

“What’s his deal?” Woodruff asked.

“Dunno,” Bob said.  “So, was that a no on the turnip ice cream?”

“I think so.”

“Well then, this goat’s milk is a life saver.”

“It’s a good thing we brought old Delilah.”

“And Mr. Scowling Face threw such a fit when we milked her,” Bob said and patted the black and white goat on the head.

“I bet he feels foolish now.”

“He should,” Bob said.  “No turnip ice cream when you’re serving scolding hot bacon.  That’s irresponsible.

“So, why Robbie?” Woodruff asked.

“It makes me sound younger,” Bob replied.

“But you are young.”

“Yeah, but if I sounded younger I could get into the movies at the kid’s rate.”

“That doesn’t sound right.”

“Sure it does,” Bob said.  “Hello, sir, welcome to the cinema.  Then I say, ‘The name’s Robbie.’ and then he says, ‘Oh, pardon me, I thought you were older.  That’ll be a dollar twenty-five.’  Boom, kid’s rate.”

“I don’t know, Bob,” Woodruff said as he shook his head.  “What movie are you going to see?”

“The youth are all about period piece docudramas,” Bob said.  “Maybe something with Steve Buscemi or Elizabeth McGovern.  You know, on fleece.”

“Fleek,” Woodruff corrected.

“Like spitting?” Bob asked.  He stood up and pushed his chair back under the table.

“No, that’s gleek.”

“I thought that was a Glee fan.”

“Oh right,” Woodruff said.  He pushed his chair in and took hold of Delilah’s leash.  “What were we talking about?”

“No idea.”

“We should leave a nice tip.”

“Good idea,” Bob said.  He took a marker from his pocket and wrote on a napkin.  “Keep bananas fresher by wrapping the stems in plastic wrap.”

“That’s a good tip,” Woodruff said.

The man in the apron stepped out from behind the swinging door with a Polaroid camera.  He walked up to Woodruff and Bob, who were standing next to the leaning tower of plates while Delilah chewed on the tablecloth.  The man growled as he raised the camera and a blindly light flashed in their eyes.  A card printed out the bottom and the man angrily shook it as he moved behind the counter.  With a thumbtack, he pinned the picture next to a red sign above the cash register that said ‘We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone’.

“Sweet!” Woodruff and Bob cheered in unison.

“We got our picture on the wall,” Bob said.

“We’re gonna be famous,” Woodruff replied.

Bob pulled open the front door and they stepped out onto the sidewalk with Delilah trailing behind them.

“You wanna see a movie or something?” Woodruff said.

“Can I be Robbie?”

“Robbie doesn’t make you sound younger, it makes you sound unemployable.”

“Jeff Weiner once called me unemployable at a charity auction for A Cappella without Borders.”

“What movie should we see?”

“Sun Valley 10 is playing She’s Having a Baby for Totally 80’s Thursdays,” Bob said.

“Done and done.”

“Meh eheheh eh,” Delilah bleated.

Ready, Set, Romance

Listen as I venture bravely into romance and help Janette Rallison with her novella anthology.

Episode 27

Janette Needs Help

Episode 28

Titles

Episode 29

Fan Questions

Episode 30

More Plotting for Janette

 

Subscribe to Ready, Set, Write Podcast on iTunes for more amazingness

Fyrecon

I’m thrilled to be a part of Fyrecon June 8-10 at Weber State University – Davis Campus in Layton, Utah.  I’ll be teaching two classes and sitting on four panels.

https://www.fyrecon.com/schedule/

To kick off the event Thursday I’ll be teaching a class at 1:30pm Bringing Your Story to Life where I’ll help writer take their stories from beginning to the end.

Friday fun day is loaded with another class and two panels.  The first panel starts at 11:30am where we talk about books that have influenced us.  Then at 2:30pm I’ll be teaching a class on flipping your story upside down to find clarity where I relate my experience as a freelance sports reporter and what I learned that helped my write novels.  Right after that I’ll sit on the panel talking about the dos and don’ts of manipulating your audience.

Saturday evening I’ll be moderating the panel on reboots and remakes for television and film which I’m really excited about.  Then I’ll be sitting on a panel with my good friend Alyson Peterson on writing humor.

I can’t wait!

A Dream Among The Stars

I had a thought that grew into a dream.  That dream went with me everywhere.  It was with me at work.  With me while I ate.  I laughed with my dream and it smile back.  My dream greeted me each morning and bid me goodnight as I lay down to sleep.  My dream was even with me while I showered.

More and more of my energy went toward my dream as it grew and grew.  One day, quite miraculously, my dream turned into a star.  It lived in my head, as real as real could be, until I could no longer contain it.  I was not ready for the world to see my little star so I kept it in my pocket.  Day after day it took shape and grew bigger and brighter.

One day I felt it was time to share my little star with others.  I gave a peek to those closest to me and they looked on my little star with awe and wonder.  Some hailed it and proclaimed that it belonged in the heavens while others questioned if it were big or bright enough.  Truth be told, I wondered the same thing myself.

We were faced with two choices, my dream and I.  Either my little star would remain tucked safely away in my pocket, where only I would know of its beauty and brightness, or we would endeavor to follow brave men and women into the celestial sky to place it among the stars.  My fondest desire was to share my little star with all who might enjoy it, so the choice was easy.  The journey, however, was not.

With a deep breath and a prayer in my heart, I set off for the top of the mountain.  I climbed the nearest peak and when I reached the summit I took my little star from my pocket and held it high, toward the heavens.  We waited, my dream and I, for what seemed like an eternity.  I gave serious thought to constructing a vessel of my own for the trip when at last a tiny sail boat floated through the sky as if in answer to my silent prayer.

Grateful for the passage I gave no thought to its size or worthiness but leapt in before it could depart without us.  We sailed up into the great unknown toward a future of glorious possibilities.  The journey was long but my little star and I reveled in the fact that we had been accepted into the vast galaxy above.  With wide-eyed wonder we took in the passing cosmos on our way to our long sought destination.

At last we arrived and I took my little star, gave it one last adoring look, and placed it with the other beautiful spheres of light.  The joy I felt nearly caused my heart to burst.  I returned to earth, full of excitement, to call for all of my friends and family so they might see the heights we had reached, my dream and I.  They rejoiced with me and we celebrated together for a time.  I spread the word far and wide that my dream had become a star and my star was in the sky for all to behold.

Many came and looked upon my star.  There were those who delighted in its splendor and whimsy.  And others who did not find it as grand or brilliant as other stars they had seen.  When I stepped back and took in the breathtaking tapestry of the universe, my little star seemed so insignificant and the prospect of anyone finding it on their own seemed so remote that my joy began to slip away.

It was then I remembered where we began our journey and just how far my dream had come to take its place among the stars.  It did not matter to me that it was dwarfed in size and brilliance by its glorious companions or that it might be lost to some among the infinite expanse of space.  To me the only thing that mattered was how far we had come and what my dream had become.  I do not know how long or how bright my little star will burn or how many will enjoy its light.  But I now know what a dream can be and before I am through I plan on placing a few more stars in the sky.

An hour with Aaron

Enjoy four fun conversations about the wonderful world of authorship. Episode 12 is my favorite. Also be sure to subscribe to the Ready, Set, Write podcast on iTunes.

Episode 9
Guest Adrienne Quintana

Episode 10
Traditional vs Indie Publishing

Episode 11
Contract Pitfalls

Episode 12
How Writing Changed Our Lives

 

Amazon Giveaway: The Land of Look Behind

Start the New Year off right with literacy and games of chance.  Enter for your chance to win a free ebook of the exciting debut mystery novel The Land of Look Behind. Your friends will be so jealous. Plus you get to follow an author on Amazon. #winning

See this #AmazonGiveaway for a chance to win: The Land of Look Behind (Kindle Edition). https://giveaway.amazon.com/p/d7316ffac42594b2 NO PURCHASE NECESSARY. Ends the earlier of Feb 3, 2017 11:59 PM PST, or when all prizes are claimed. See Official Rules http://amzn.to/GArules.

Review: Fantastic Beast and Where to Find Them

I’m not a movie critic I’m a storyteller and I love a good story well told.  Yesterday I gained a new appreciation for a storyteller I have long admired.  J.K Rowling returned to the world she created and brought us back into the secret society of witches and wizards with Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

A couple of things struck me about this story.  First, it was immediately familiar and welcomed you right in like we’d never been gone.  And second, this story was set so far apart from the Harry Potter story where someone with no context to her original series could enjoy this world for all its wonder and not feel completely lost.

Rowling set her latest story seventy years and an ocean apart from 4 Privet Drive and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and yet from the opening scene you knew you were right back in the magical world of wands and sorcery.  In the medium of film, a writer is not alone in the task of telling their story and in many ways relies on the director to bring the story to life.  David Yates is well acquainted with the Harry Potter universe having directed the final four films and he did not miss a beat bringing us to 1920’s New York where magical society facing its own set of challenges with the No-Maj population.

Newt

This was just one small way in which Rowling beautifully distinguished both the time period and cultures from one another.  Wizards and witches in the United States in the 20th century called non-magical folks No-Maj as opposed to Muggles.  This was introduced and explained early on in the story as Newt Scamander stepped off the boat from England and signaled to the audience that things weren’t going to be what they were used to.  Certainly we were treated to familiar spells and names, like Albus Dumbledore, but much of the setting and tone was different from what we experienced in our first introduction to the magical world through the eyes of the boy who lived.

Although New Scamander was an established Wizard he was more than a little out of place in the society and culture of New York.  This was a perfect way for Rowling to expand her universe as we could travel with Scamander and leave a world we knew for a different place and time, both we and Scamander could share a frame of reference and experience the new world together.

For those who had never before visited Rowling’s magical universe, presumably due to them either being too cool for what they deemed to be a children’s story or having been in a coma for the past twenty years, they also had a character who journeyed with them in the No-Maj aspiring baker Jacob Kowalski.  This is where Rowling gave us something we never had before, an uninitiated character with no magical connection.  Jacob’s reaction to this stunning revelation of the existence of magic was highly entertaining and although he took most of them in stride we were able to get a different perspective that was refreshing and new.

Speaking of different perspectives, this story was centered around adult characters with adult problems and concerns, which set an entirely different tone from Harry Potter.  Not only did we have Scamander and Kowalski trying to navigate a foreign environment but we were introduced to the recently demoted Auror Tina Goldstein who had her own set of problems seeking to redeem herself with the Magical Congress.  This was a far cry from children playing Quidditch, sneaking to Hogsmeade, and preparing for exams.

Finally, there was no prophetic child or You Know Who but we did have reference to a dark wizard, Gellert Grindelwald, who we learned about in the Deathly Hallows and a nice Easter Egg to that story along the way, yet another example of the something familiar yet new in this fantastic story [pun intended].

In closing I would like to give one last tip of my hat to Rowling and Yates not only as collective storytellers but for their individual accomplishments within the film.  First, Rowling introduced a mystery right from the beginning of a powerful unseen force and those that pursued it.  This mystery was slowly unfolded throughout the story in a masterful way and the ramifications were far more complicated and tragic than the physical destruction it wreaked.  Second, Yates got top notch performances out of a tremendous cast led by the Academy Award winning Eddie Redmayne.  I felt like the character portrayals and interactions were pitch perfect which was highlighted by the final interaction between Scamander and Goldstein.  This punctuated the story beautifully and sent my anticipation for what is to come through the theater roof.

Whether you are a fan of the Harry Potter series or just waking up from your decade’s long coma, you should treat yourself to this new adventure and a story well told.

5 Things You Should Be More Grateful For

It’s that time of year again where we turn our collective thoughts to the things we are grateful for.  That got me thinking about the things we should be more thankful for.  We live in a miraculous world full of crazy cool things and it’s easy to overlook just how fortunate we are.  With that said I submit, for your consideration and in no particular order, 5 things we should be more grateful for.

Aglets

agletYou may have never given consideration to the aglet or you might not even know what it is, but I promise you that you would be filled with a profound appreciation and gratitude for the unsung hero of your high-tops if it were not a thing.  I’ll give you a moment to Google “aglet” … [Jeopardy theme music] … [check my watch] … [remember that I don’t wear a watch] …and your back.  See?!  The AGLET!  Imagine trying to lace up a new pair of sneakers with a limp nylon string.  It would be maddening.   Now every day you tie your shoes be sure to give thanks for this tiny plastic hero.

Running Water

Here’s another topic you may not have given proper consideration.  Go ahead and stroll on over to the sink and turn the nozzle or lift the lever.

Did you do it?  Why not?  Is it because you already know that clear, cool, life giving water will immediately come pouring out at a pressure you can regulate at will?  Yeah, now think about that for a second.  Where does it come from, how does it get there, who makes sure it’s clean and what would you do if it all stopped?  Are you frightened yet?  Well then you should probably throw up a prayer or two of thanks to whatever God you worship for the invisible forces that afford you such an essential luxury; you know the one that allows you to clean, wash, cook, drink and LIVE!

I won’t even get into hot water which is a beautiful flower of goodness itself.  I took cold showers for two years as a missionary in Jamaica and felt a bit like John Rambo in the shower stalls of the Hope Washington Police Station most mornings, but at least the water flowed and I didn’t have to worry about diphtheria.

Cell Phones

91a1387b86a43732bb424fe248796672I’m not even talking about smart phones.  I’m talking straight up about the ability to take a device out of your pocket and speak to somebody through a device in their pocket or a phone in their home.

Some of you may be too young to remember when you had to make plans with someone before you left your house, at which point you were entirely beholden to those plans and at the mercy of the dependability, punctuality and/or commitment of said someone.  It was a ball of anxiety wrapped in uncertainty.  Are your friends still going to meet up for dinner?  Is your mom going to pick you up from the mall?  Has the world come to an end and no one is coming to your Jean-Claude Van Damme movie marathon?  You don’t know!  You just have to sit there and wait like a pathetic loser.  It was a nightmare.

Clothes

Certainly there’s a life sustaining value to clothing, in some cases, and although I’m not a fashion expert there can be applications that allow for an expression of either unity or individuality.  However, on a day to day basis, are we thankful enough that clothes are covering up a whole lot of nakedness?  While there are certainly cases where humanity would not raise a cry of objection or call for a public covering, by and large (and I mean LARGE) the majority of bodies, including my own, ought to be shrouded in as much cotton/poly mystery as possible.  There are some sights that can’t be unseen and while beauty may only be skin deep, my love handles need a t-shirt.

Chairs

chairTry and go a week without sitting in a chair, try it for a day.  And it’s cheating to just stay in bed or lay on the sofa.  I mean go and live your life and look at how many chairs you encounter and how much better your life is for it.  Sit down for dinner.  Chair.  Wait in a doctor’s office.  Chair.  Go to school.  Chair.  Work on the computer.  Chair.

Have you ever been camping and not brought a chair?  The first thing you do right after building a shelter and prepping a fire pit is try and fashion a makeshift chair from a rock, a stump, or your least favorite child; anything but sitting on the ground like an animal.  Even worse when you show up to your child’s soccer game without a chair and have to shamefully sit/squat in the damp grass or steal the corner of some strange toddler’s blanket while he eyeballs you.  It’s called sharing Evan, it won’t kill you!  Just go back to playing with your T-rex and Hot Wheels car, like that even makes sense.  You’re not better than me.

Where was I?  Oh right.  Chairs.

There are few things as sweet as resting your weary bones on a good old fashion chair with a back.  Much is made of how the wheel accelerated the human race out of a primal age, but I’ll bet you fifty bucks that long before Neanderthals turned their robust craniums to the wheel they had already invented the chair.

So when you pause to express thanks for the many blessings in your life take a look around and you might be surprised with just how many reasons you have to be grateful.