"Like a Bird without a Song"

Okay, I’ll say it.

Knock it the fuck off 2016.

Seriously. This, taking all the artists in the same year thing is just cruel. I get it that people are born every day, that someone else will eventually grace us with the pleasure of their artistic contributions. I also fully understand that I didn’t know a single one of the magical beings who have left this earth since this calendar year began.

But it doesn’t matter. I knew many of them inside and out. Because they all gave pieces of their souls for the entire world to share. The characters they played, songs they wrote, all become the fragments of the part of the life we in the public get to experience.

So yesterday, 2016, when you just couldn’t resist robbing us all of another entertainer, I will admit that I absolutely lost it.

Prince actually brought me to tears.

Yes, I sat in my house, listening to Purple Rain, and I cried.

It might sound weird because, like I said, I didn’t know the man. Thing is, I don’t think I’m really crying for him. Which, again, might sound really weird since the guy just died.

What I’m mourning for more than anything is the loss of what we’ll never get to hear him produce in the future.

And, that sadness? Is something that can never go away.

I can listen to all 39 of his albums back to front, the songs he helped with for The Bangles, Sinead O’Connor, or Stevie Nicks, but it isn’t enough. The world was essentially robbed of future brilliance and that’s just wrong.

A friend of mine shared something yesterday and I’d like to share the text here because it essentially says what I’ve been bumbling over for 300+ words now:

“For people who don't understand why others mourn the death of artists, you need to understand that these people have been a shoulder to cry on. Our rock. They've been family, friends, leaders, teachers & role models. Many have taught us what we need to know and what to do when times get rough.They've helped us move on.They've pushed us out of bed.They've helped us live when nobody else had time to.Artists have inspired us in endless ways and have been with us through stages in our lives. We've made memories with them.So when they die, a part of us dies.”

As posted on The Hippies were Right

And that’s really what it all comes down to. It doesn’t matter to that person, they’re gone. It’s everyone left who have to grapple with that. Loss and mourning aren’t rational.

When something or someone leaves a lasting imprint on your heart, mind, soul, but then leaves the world far too soon, we long to find other people to surround us so we can share in the broken pieces and somehow try to put something whole back together.

I never had the pleasure of seeing Prince live. When he first hit big in the ‘80s I was a bit too young for a show like that. Hell, as I spent the day listening to Purple Rain yesterday I realized just how much I probably shouldn’t have been listening to that album on my 11^th birthday.

At age 43 I still blush at a few of his lyrics.

Okay, many of his lyrics.

But I digress.

When I was old enough to take myself to a show, I was mostly broke. And then I just sort of moved on into different music. Never away, because I always liked everything the man put out there, just on to something different.

But I still have this:

You’ll notice in the upper right hand corner is a puffy Santa sticker, indicating when I got the album back in 1984. Also, you’ll notice Apollonia’s face is missing. Yeah, I was an 11 year old girl, that’s the kind of shit we did when we were jealous of the beautiful woman on the album cover.

Sorry, Apollonia.

When I went to my iTunes yesterday and pulled up the soundtrack to listen straight through the entire thing (when I should have been writing), I pulled the vinyl out of the dusty recesses of my closet and smiled as I held it.

Our little family of three was still living in the apartment in east Arlington when the album and movie came out. My sister and I shared a bedroom, slept in bunk beds surrounded by the clutter of two tween girls, and shared a record player.

In the constant rotation? INXS, Jack Wagner, Toni Basil, The Police, The Stray Cats, Huey Lewis and the News, Duran Duran, Culture Club, The Grease soundtrack, Madonna, and Prince and the Revolution.

According to my record collection, 1984 was the year I discovered popular music.

In those days music was heavy on the synthesizer. Prince’s Purple Rain is very likely responsible for the first shredding of electric guitar I’d ever heard. Few could do it like he did.

And in honor of that guitar genius and eerily poignant songwriter, Rogers Nelson, I share this as my sign off, thanks, and Kiss to the Purple One.

Thank you for reminding us all back in 1984 that life is short and to strive to be the most excellent version of ourselves that we can be.

Every. Day.

 

Let’s Go Crazy

By Prince and the Revolution

Dearly beloved

We are gathered here today

To get through this thing called life

Electric word life

It means forever and that's a mighty long time

But I'm here to tell you

There's something else

The after world

A world of never ending happiness

You can always see the sun, day or night

So when you call up that shrink in Beverly Hills

You know the one, Dr. Everything'll Be Alright

Instead of asking him how much of your time is left

Ask him how much of your mind, baby

'Cause in this life

Things are much harder than in the after world

In this life

You're on your own

And if the elevator tries to bring you down

Go crazy, punch a higher floor

If you don't like the world you're living in

Take a look around you

At least you got friends

You see I called my old lady

For a friendly word

She picked up the phone

Dropped it on the floor

(Ah, ah) is all I heard

Are we gonna let the elevator

Bring us down

Oh, no let's go!

Let's go crazy

Let's get nuts

Let's look for the purple banana

'Til they put us in the truck, let's go!

We're all excited

But we don't know why

Maybe it's 'cause

We're all gonna die

And when we do (When we do)

What's it all for (What's it all for)

You better live now

Before the grim reaper come knocking on your door

Tell me, are we gonna let the elevator bring us down

Oh, no let's go!

Let's go crazy

Let's get nuts

Look for the purple banana

'Til they put us in the truck, let's go!

C'mon baby

Let's get nuts

Yeah

Crazy

Let's go crazy

Are we gonna let the elevator bring us down

Oh, no let's go!

Go crazy

I said let's go crazy (Go crazy)

Let's go, let's go

Go

Let's go

Dr. Everything'll be alright

Will make everything go wrong

Pills and thrills and daffodils will kill

Hang tough children

He's coming

He's coming

Coming

Take me away!

• • • • • • • • • • •
In addition to this drivel I also write books, both fiction and non-fiction.
Learn more on my author page.

What Makes Us Label (Almost) Everything?

As I do every morning, today I got up, got my coffee and settled down on the sofa to ingest the life-liquid as quickly as I possibly could. Matt usually gets up a couple hours before I do so the television is already on when I “shuffle my slipperless toes to the kitchen” most days.

Most mornings he goes for the Today Show. It’s easy and always there. Reliable.

Before I go on here I’d just like to say that I have nothing specific against the Today Show. I’ve watched that show on and off for years. I was even a little sad when Katie Couric left. The way I feel about the story I saw this morning isn’t specifically attacking the show.

Instead, my baffled head shake comes from the fact that people must want to hear about stuff like this, otherwise they wouldn’t report the story. The people out there in news program land enjoy hearing stories like this one, it isn’t about placing blame on “news” anchors or the writers.

Now I know a bunch of you probably think I’m talking about the Amy Schumer v. Glamour Magazine debacle that took place a couple days ago. They have a Plus Size women issue, Amy gets named in the issue, they don’t label her as plus size but she freaks anyway and takes to twitter to release her frustration.

No. I mean, that story is an interesting experiment in political correctness but it isn’t the labeling issue I’m referring to this morning.

What got me all riled up this morning has to do with food.

Before you say the “ugh” that’s dying to escape from your throat give me a minute.

You know I’m pretty environmentally focused, and that goes for the planet as a whole as well as the tiny speck of space I inhabit on the blue and green rock. I like my home to be clean and try for a chemical-free existence. I prefer to make a lot of my own stuff like laundry detergent and lotion. And I try to buy organic options whenever possible.

So, with all that said, you might be thinking I’m talking about labeling food with GMOs. And in a way, I guess I am, but that still isn’t the issue at hand. It raises a whole bunch of questions though and here’s why:

The story I saw this morning was about labeling our junk food with recommended exercise time in order to work it off.

Now, I’m not sure you had the same reaction as I did. Mine went something like this:

I’m sorry, but, what the actual fuck?

Once that went through my mind, the next three things I thought about, in this exact order, were:

• We can’t get GMO labeling but this stupid shit is okay?
• Who in the hell thought of this and how did it end up as a story on a morning talk show?
• Idiocracy

I really can’t understand this world we live in sometimes. Big huge corporations are creating seeds resistant to pesticide and pests – and they all tell us those seeds are perfectly safe to consume – but the fight to have packages marked with that information is like asking the CEO of that huge company to pull his teeth out with a pair of rusty pliers.

Who wants to place bets that we get big bold stickers next to all the nutrition information on our bags of chips that tell us to shove in 5 of those chips then go do 100 sit ups before the fight is even over on GMO labeling?

Like I said, it makes me sad for our society. Watching people watching segments like that and knowing there are tons of people sitting at home and nodding along at just how great an idea that is makes me mental.

I mean, come on.

And I don’t mean to offend anyone here, because I’m basically talking about myself, but if you’re a person who sits around shoving snack foods, junk food, fast food down your gullet, is it safe to assume you don’t really give a shit about the nutrition label that says you need to go jog around the block?

Because, and answer me honestly here, what’s the first thing you want to do after ingesting a few (hundred) handfuls of cheddar and sour cream chips? I may not know you but, using myself as the example again, I feel pretty secure in saying it isn’t 'go to the gym'. At least not for the majority of the world.

The good news, if for nobody other than Mike Judge, is that at least we’ll all know how much we have to exercise while drinking our butter. It's just unfortunate, that butter is probably going to kill us with chemicals before we ever get off our ass to go workout.

• • • • • • • • • • •
In addition to this drivel I also write books, both fiction and non-fiction.
Learn more on my author page.

We'll Get a Table near the Street

Every time I listen to that Brad Paisley song “Letter to Me” I full-on cry. No, I’m not kidding. Despite the fact he sings about boy things solely applicable to himself – Playboy, chewing tobacco, dating girls – I still can’t help it.

The song reminds me of where I was at age 17, how far I’ve come, why all the drama of those days just doesn’t matter anymore, and how I wish I could go back in time to remind myself that everything is going to be fine if I just chill the heck out.

Oh hell. Just typing the premise of the song has me choked up (thanks again perimenopause!)

Anyway, I’ve talked in the past about this thing that happens to me with some songs. And, as a side note, this thing that happens is the very reason I never want to know what a song is really about. All the artists can keep that to themselves, thanks. I like to feel my music. And in cases like the Paisley song, though I can’t specifically relate to the words, I can relate to the overall feeling behind the words and music.

Best way I can describe what happens? The song lyrics will remind me of a feeling I have inside, not a specific time and place.

And “Scenes from an Italian Restaurant” is another one of those songs.

I don’t know anyone named Brenda or Eddie (or more appropriately, as the song goes, BrenderenEddie because those two names are really just one word). I don’t know anyone who owns a waterbed, paintings from Sears, or enjoys rosé with their meal. Nor do I know a single person who hangs out with a group of people (called the greasers) at the village green.

The lyrics and references in the song tell us it took place in 1975. A year when I was 2 years old. Hardly wishing two crazy friends well on their doomed-from-the-start marriage.

But something about that song makes me long for those two people that Billy sings about to be the romanticized version of my parents.

BrenderenEddie are two people who once loved each other so much, but just couldn’t make it together, sitting across from each other at their old favorite place to eat, years after they divorced, catching up on how both of their lives went on without the other. That they’ll never forget who they were then but how much happier they are now.

The funny thing is that I have very few Billy Joel songs I can even tolerate anymore. Let me back up for a second and explain.

After living in LINY for a couple years I was SO burned out on hearing Billy Joel every 5 minutes that I pretty much stopped listening. (Seriously, I sometimes thought about staging a Billy Joel v Mariah Carey cage match to the death just so we could get some different music on the FM stations).

Last night revived my love for the man and his music. I’ve never heard him do “Scenes” live before. And I never stay up until 11:30 at night. But when Jimmy Fallon announced that was the song Joel would close the show with, I grabbed my toothpicks to prop open my eyelids and just listened.

May I just say, holy crap! He still sounds great even after 43 years in the business (fun fact: his first single “Piano Man” was released just 130 days after I was released!).

If you’re interested in checking out last night’s performance you can check it out here.

And, in case you’re wondering, no, I didn’t cry last night. It was far too late for that much emotion.

But re-watching it this morning…

Image courtesy Microsoft clip art

• • • • • • • • • • • 
Like short fiction? Get a brand new story every month (one you won't see anywhere else!) when you sign up for my newsletter Facts & Fiction. Make 2016 better. Do it now!

Getting Soft in our Old Age?

Take a moment to read the above article. Don’t worry, I’ll wait.

Okay, now that we’ve got the words in our heads I’m here to tell you the entire article is a bunch of crap.

Allow me to explain.

As a child of the eighties I’ll be the first one to say I can’t for one second imagine how hard it would be to raise a child in this day and age. The internet age of constant connection, communication, everything you could ever want right at your fingertips. All the time. Anytime.

It absolutely breeds a sense of blithe ambition. Nobody has to work to learn. It’s all right there. Easy breezy.

But it also helps to add a sense of entitlement that everything should be just that easy to get.

Because it is.

However, here’s where I sat and took a long hard look back at my own childhood and the pop culture influences I had. The fictional heroes we all looked up to, tried to emulate. And though the good Doctor who wrote that article makes some good points, I think they forgot about quite a few god-awful examples.

Now, I’m not saying I didn’t thoroughly enjoy a good chunk of the shows and movies I’m about to list (some are still favorites) or that there weren’t some gems about tolerance, respect or loyalty (because there were), but let’s not get it twisted and try to glorify how awesome and perfect it was back then because there was plenty for our parents to complain about too.

Right off the top of my head here’s a few I remember:

Porky’s (1981) – misogyny is the name of the game from the moment you see the movie poster. We taught a whole generation of boys it’s okay to spy on high school girls in the shower without their knowledge or consent. Classy.

Moonlighting (1985-1989) – where to begin? The basic premise of the show is that female bosses are shrews when they insist their male employees actually work for their paychecks. Not to mention, no matter how much of a screw up he is, how many times he threatens their livelihood with his antics he still gets the girl in the end. Uh-huh.

Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (1986) – I’ve mentioned this movie before and basically in the same vein as this post. Suffice to say we all learned it’s okay to skip school, trash property and disrespect everyone as long as you don’t get caught and let your friends take the fall. How big of you.

The Breakfast Club (1985) – five teens, during a full day of detention, smoke weed in the school library, among other pursuits, while the sole authority figure fumbles around like a bumbling idiot.

Gremlins (1984) – what better way to say Merry Christmas than seeing your entire town trashed by a bunch of aliens simply because a teenager couldn’t manage the responsibility of owning his first pet?

Fraggle Rock (1983-1987) – a bunch of entitled kids live for free underground, take advice from a heap of trash and constantly destroy the hard working Doozer’s construction projects just because they want a snack. And it’s cool that the only adult in the bunch spends all his time traveling and judging humans.

Top Gun (1986) – generally be a dickhead to everyone and sleep with your teacher. Just cry over your BFF’s death while staring at yourself in a mirror and come back later to teach the same class and everyone will forgive you.

Any show where a female was in charge and she wasn’t a bitch or in need of a man to come swooping in to save the day (19?? – today) – a seemingly novel concept in any generation from the dawn of entertainment. Anything which breaks this mold is considered “groundbreaking” even today. (And on a side note, entertainment where men aren’t allowed to cry/show emotions at all or are constantly “scolded” by their wives like they’re children make me want to scream just as much)

Anyway, I’ll stop there but suffice to say there are loads more examples I could use to further prove the point.

However, I think the thing that stands out to me the most from the article above is this:

Yes, the world might be different now than when I was a kid. But when I was a kid we were afraid of the wrath of our parents (even if we didn’t admit to it) and at ten most of us were barely allowed to use the telephone let alone have one of our own to stare at while in a doctor’s office waiting room.

So where does the real ownness lie?

Should it be on the so-called role models of the screen that kids can’t tear their eyes away from, or on the parents who have full authority to force them to put down the tech and just be kids for a change?

I don’t pretend to know the answer. Even if I had kids of my own I couldn’t tell you the answer. All I know is there needs to be some kind of dialogue about the difference between reality (your parents have the right to punish you when you mouth off to them) and fantasy (everything you see on a screen of any sort) so kids these days understand and respect the difference.

Article first read on Facebook here

• • • • • • • • • • • 
Like short fiction? Get a brand new story every month (one you won't see anywhere else!) when you sign up for my newsletter Facts & Fiction. Make 2016 better. Do it now.

You Kids and your Internet. In my Day…

So here’s the fear. That I don’t actually have anything else to say. That I’ve run out of feelings and imagination. Or that unless I save it up I’ll use it all up and then have nothing later.

Which of course is total crap. There’s always something eventually, some inspiration to follow through on. I just hate the dry times, they make me worry. And I have way too many other worries right now to add anything else to the pile. Especially where work is concerned.

The thing is, I just always want things to work out before the credits roll. Like all those eighties movies and television shows I grew up with. And it makes me a little jealous of millennials. Since their birth, things have been more real in the visual entertainment sphere.

Now don’t get me wrong. It isn’t like I think everything we see on reality TV is real. Or that the gritty “truth” style movies aren’t an imaginative exaggeration of a real-life type of situation. I’m not an idiot.

But, when compared to what my generation grew up watching, I get a little pang of envy for how much more raw and honest dialogue has become. Situations. Lack of force-fed sugary goodness. That, sometimes, there isn’t an answer after 30 minutes, or 2 hours, a whole season, or even a trilogy of movies.

See, my generation had shows like Family Ties. Where democrats and republicans may not always agree but can live in harmony under the same roof. Or the classic Growing Pains where it only takes a laugh and a smile to deal with how much of a screw up your son is.

And let’s not forget movies like Ferris Bueller’s Day Off where we never have to see the repercussions of what happens when your so-called best friend forces you to skip school, take your dad’s pristine collector car out and, after getting home safe and un-caught, you decide your best course of action is to trash the car. But it’ll all be okay because the script says so.

Don’t forget, after all, Ferris didn’t get caught. He was pretty much the only one who didn’t.

My generation of pop culture fiends were shown that the kids were always smarter than the bumbling idiot grownups.

Well now I’m the age of all those bumbling idiot grownups and have come to realize that in this age of technology and world connectedness, the kids are smarter than me now. And do you know how fucking irritating that is?

The younger generation has found a way to take what’s available, AKA: everything, and use it to become these clued-in, whip-smart people. The people my generation wanted to be when we were their age.

But the reality of my generation’s half-hour comedy is that nothing in life can be solved in 30 minutes. The dork sophomore never ends up with the hottest, coolest, richest senior in school.

Which really doesn’t matter anymore because the Ducky’s of the world know so much better how to take care of their ladies.

But I digress.

Because that’s a post for another day.

For now I’m going to spend my time working on my own mash-up. My own ability to read, research and extrapolate the info available to me to craft some cooler, whip-smart characters.

And if I get bored, writer’s block, or a total lack of inspiration, maybe I’ll write my own eighties-esque story. The one where the sophomore obsesses over the senior and they don’t end up together.

But it all still ends up okay.

• • • • • • • • • • • EDITOR's NOTE: As of November 2015, shit is gonna get real. I'll no longer focus on my pitifully visited blog for new writers, every freaking blogger has a blog for new writers and I'm tired of trying to muscle my way into a club where the snacks already ran out. Because, what's the point? Instead, I'll be back here and focused on bringing you the most random of the inner workings of my head as well as sharing short fiction pieces in my newsletter. Sign up, read them, bookmark this site...or whatever other call to action I'm supposed to use in this situation.

A Long and Torrid ♥ Affair

I have to confess. I’ve had a one sided love affair going on for well over a decade now. In fact, since about the summer of 2002 I’ve devoted my listening ears to one particular songwriter and (it won’t be a shock to anyone who has been around this blog for more than, oh say, about 10 minutes that) the name of this lyrically limber lexicon lover is Jason Mraz.

Told you it wouldn’t be a surprise. Most of you are probably sick of me writing about him at this point (too bad this is my blog and I’ll fan-girl geek it out if I want to!). Other than a brief mention of a new album here or there would you believe the last post I wrote about Jason was back in 2009 when I saw him in Hershey,PA opening for Dave Matthews Band? Yeah, I wouldn’t have believed it either except I just did the research and it’s the stone-cold truth.

I like that I was a fan years before anyone knew who he was. That I got to see him at Irving Plaza in NYC with only about 100 other people in the place. That Matt and I drove all the way to NJ from MA. Then the two of us, my friend Trayce and her daughter took off for Susquehanna, PA to catch Jason on the ‘Music, Magic and Makepeace Tour’. That Matt and I drove all the way to Hershey, PA (also conveniently close to Centralia, PA [yes I filmed this documentary]) for that above referenced show that I wrote about.

Then about 11 days later my mom and I caught Jason headlining the Bank of America Pavilion in Boston with the smell of the harbor wafting into the enormous tent as we danced our butts off all night long (all night).

And then Matt and I made our way to the Life Is Good festival to see a whole slew of amazing artists (Emily Elbert, OK Go, They Might be Giants, Brett Dennen) and of course Jason headlining the whole night.

That was the last time I saw him perform live.

In freaking 2010.

What a sad, sad shame.

But a lot has happened since September 12, 2010 and as a grown up with big girl responsibilities it wasn’t like I could chase the guy all over the country or anything. No matter how much I really wanted to.

And now we’re in Phoenix, a five hour journey to San Disco Raggaefornia (give or take). And I just looked up the last time Jason played here. It was October of 2012. And we were recently moved into our house so there wasn’t much extra to go around; meaning I didn’t get to the show.

But now this morning I was wasting some moments scrolling through Facebook and came across this:

Um, yes please!

I’d say it’s about time he released something new because waiting between releases has kind of been the norm – Rocket in 2002, Mr A-Z in 2005, WSWDWST in 2008 and then love in 2012.

But we’re only talking about a year since love. And believe me, knowing every lyric on that album front and back (because frankly there hasn’t been another disc in my car’s player since the day I got the album), I’m already ready for more.

But aren’t all the former Sexheads? I mean seriously. The guy’s music is like a drug. A sweet and melodic drug that plays on your mind, body and soul. Best. high. Ever!

Thank god that shit is still legal. 

I just hate that part where I have to wait for it. Especially now that I know it’s on the way.

• • • • • • • • • • •
Published in multiple print and online sources, Author, Blogger and Freelance Writer Jenn Flynn-Shon has been writing for publication since 2001. Follow her antics on twitter @jennshon

Assonance or Asinine?

It’s no secret I’m a Writer. This is a profession of slogging and pimping yourself out there as best as you possibly can to scratch a few bucks together. Nothing about the job is forgiving, save for maybe the fact I don’t have to listen to idiots drone on about nothing all day. But being a Writer also brings up other less savory things like assessing spelling and grammar everywhere I go.

When today’s track started playing I immediately had a rush of memories back to a time when a big group of us used to hang out over one friend’s house and play music, dance around and generally just joke and have a great time with each other. Listening to pop music was always a fun way to spend a day or night.

But the cuteness of the lead singer has worn off and even though the track is upbeat and fun I’m having an extremely difficult time getting past the title now. In fact, seeing the little red squiggle line under one of the words in the title is making the vein in my forehead actually throb with irritation.

“Your Da One I Onena Love” is a track off Color Me Badd’s first album cleverly titled CMB.

Go ahead and read that title again, I’ll wait.

See? See what I mean? Let’s just break it down, and not in a pop boy-band dance number in the middle of the song kind of way.

Your. Definition: “a form of the possessive case of you used as an attributive adjective.” Better known as something only the ‘You’ in question can have – your jacket, your kitchen renovation, your snarky attitude.

If the boys in CMB (or whoever wrote it) had titled the song “Your Love’s Da One I Oant” then by all means this would be an appropriate use of this word. But they didn’t. Since they immediately tell the ‘You’ in question that they are ‘da one’, it means ‘Your’ should’ve been ‘You’re’. As in ‘You are the one I want to love’ (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah – but don’t even get me started on the lack of chorus, this is about grammar).

You’re. Definition: “contraction of you are.” Better known as something the speaker is assigning to you – you’re the best, you’re a terrible driver, “You’re Da One I Onena Love”.

Da. Not much to say here other than street slang has been known to make an appearance in song titles for years. I don’t love it but it’s ingrained enough that I know the word means ‘The’. I’ll let it slide just this once.

One; I. I have no issue with these words. They’re both spelled correctly and placed to get the point across.

Onena. Okay, what the fuck? I mean, I know the song so I understand this is supposed to be some type of cryptic spelling of ‘Wanna’ (though I’d prefer ‘Want to’) but wanna is a slang only added to the dictionary in the last few decades. And now they want to change it to onena? Really? Are they trying to throwback to two words ago? Someone should’ve told them that assonance is better left to poets and scholars who understand how to use it without creating erroneous words of their own that will never make it into a dictionary.

Love. The real truth. The thing I hate to admit. Despite all the title’s flaws I do still love this song.

Self-proclaimed pop princess over here and damn proud of it.

May’s Month of Music

Your Da One I Onena Love – Color Me Badd (iTunes / Pandora first track)

“Well, the truth of the matter is, I don't report to a Commissioner…”

“I report to a committee. Some of whom are appointed, some elected, and the rest co-opted on a bi-annual basis. It's a quorum, so to speak.”

It hit me when I was reading GalleyCat the other day and came across an article titled “Best Quora Answer of the Year” that I’d left a very important movie off my favorite laugh and quote list. I mean, So I Married an Axe Murderer is the quote movie of all time around our house. It made me wonder why I had forgotten to include it. Perhaps the lines have just become so ingrained in our daily use it’s like they were always there.

However, as far as I know it’s the only movie to use the word quorum.

Which of course is the perfect word for today’s post.

Perhaps this is cheating using a movie title that has nothing to do with the letter Q but hey, I included the article too and that really makes use of the Q.

So the article was about the winner who responded to this question: “What does the first day of a 5+ year prison sentence feel like?”

And for those interested, the Quora response in question was awarded during the annual Shorty Awards. I’d never heard of the award before so it seemed smart to look them up. Turns out it’s the social media content awards. Unfortunately blogs aren’t included unless they’re posted on Tumblr. Here’s the info. Despite the lack of Blogger or Wordpress to make the cut, the awards sound pretty interesting.

Strangely I had never heard the word quora before. Then as I was typing this up in MS Word I got the little red squiggle beneath the word indicating a misspelling. Suggestions included quota, quire, and quorum among others. I couldn’t get any results on dictionary.com either. Seemed strange.

I wondered if quora was the plural of quorum because quorums didn’t sound right. But Word didn’t say it was a misspelling so that furthered my confusion. So does anyone know what a quora actually is? It might be good to know in case I ever want to enter the contest someday. Someday if I ever decide to use Tumblr.

Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time to “turn off the Bay city Rollers, the game’s about to begin!”

Posted for April 2013 A to Z Blog Challenge Q is for Quorum

The Movie is better than the Book?

Although it will come out sounding awful and all of my Author friends will deny knowing me after I say it I’m just going to come right out and say that I’m much more apt to see the movie than read the book. There. I feel so much better just for getting that off my chest.

I think visually, even when I write I’m envisioning the scene in my head and how it will play out. But it isn’t just the characters I can see. I see the setting around them, little chotchkies surrounding the characters, the color of a car they’re riding in, the use of lighting and color to evoke emotions, and any host of other tricks a film director might employ to evoke a specific emotion. And I’ve been told that my books read like a movie sometimes. That’s pretty cool.

One of the first movies I ever saw was “On Golden Pond” and no I wasn’t nearly close to old enough to grasp the overall concept of the movie at the time. I was probably around eight years old.

My mom and aunt had taken my sister and me to the drive-in. Yes, I’m that old. Sort of. Anyway, we were supposed to stay up for the first movie, crash out in the backseat, then mom and my aunt would watch the second movie in peace. I want to say the opener was “Snow White” but my mom can weigh in on that one. It barely left an impression but still, after it was over there wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to sleep.

Are you kidding? I mean I was a kid in a car watching movies. It was, like, the coolest thing I’d ever experienced to that moment of my young life and I wanted it to last as long as possible. My sister was out like a light. Long before the first movie even ended I think. I hardly made a peep while I watched, with wide eyes, the grown-up movie from the backseat.

From that moment on I was hooked on movies. I loved how big everything was, it really added to the whole concept of a fantasy world when the actors were ten feet tall. It's true that "On Golden Pond" wasn't originally a book but let's just say in the years following my viewing of that movie, nine times out of ten I saw the movie before (if ever) reading the book. Not for a lack of imagination but simply for enjoying someone else’s take on what it would look like instead of just relying on my own.

So it shouldn’t be a shock that not only am I a big time movie quoter but I have an array of categories for when I’ll enjoy specific movies. With some flicks you just have to be in the right frame of mind to enjoy them ya know?

Movies for when I’m sewing/crafting

Armageddon

Sixteen Candles

Almost Famous

Can’t Hardly Wait

St. Elmo’s Fire

High Fidelity

The Breakfast Club

Movies for when I need to laugh and quote

Old School

How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days

Legally Blonde

Drop Dead Gorgeous

Clueless

The Ref

Just Friends

America’s Sweethearts

Napoleon Dynamite

Idiocracy

Waiting
Mallrats

Forgetting Sarah Marshall

Movies for when I’m in a music mood

Singles

Spice World

Dazed and Confused

Reality Bites

200 Cigarettes

Almost Famous

School of Rock

Movies for days when all I do is think

Chasing Amy

Girl, Interrupted

Fight Club

American History-X

Love, Actually

Leaving Las Vegas

Stand By Me

The Crow

Movies for when I need adventure and excitement

The Goonies

Indiana Jones (first three)

Lord of the Rings Trilogy

X-Men (all)

The Bourne - original trilogy

Groundhog Day

Back to the Future Trilogy

Red

Movies for nostalgia

Rudy

9 to 5

Better Off Dead

Say Anything…in fact

Pretty much any movie John Cusack made before 1994

And for that matter, every movie Sean Astin made before 1994

Glory Daze

Practical Magic

An Affair to Remember

Dazed and Confused

Forces of Nature

It Could Happen to You
Mallrats

Movies I hated after reading (and loving) the book

Carrie

Pet Sematary

Thinner

OK, pretty much everything written by King then adapted for the screen except…

Movies I loved after reading (and loving) the book

The Shining

Lord of the Rings Trilogy

Movies for when I’m in a Sports mood

Rudy

Goon

Fever Pitch

Major League

Rookie of the Year

Jerry Maguire

Miracle

Posted for April 2013 A to Z Blog Challenge M is for Movies