Don't Put My Face on the Milk Cartons Just Yet!!

Peeps,

Sorry I haven't gotten a chance to post this week. It's been a rather long one and I just haven't been myself...

I was planning on something special for this past Monday -- would have been my mom's 55th birthday -- but I wanted it to be a tribute of sorts and couldn't get it quite right (read as "exceptional, because she deserves nothing less").

(A little backstory: My mom was a cancer victim. It's been over ten years now, but I still tear up a lot when I think about it, like right now. She was awesome and I miss her.)

So that's what I was going to do. But this evil week had other plans. It managed to suck away all my time and positive emotions and left me as only a sliver of the writer I usually am. I've been a bundle of anger and frustration and depression... and I am not about to pass those along to anyone who happens to read my little blog. (I firmly believe that negative emotions are contagious viruses.)

The massive time suck resulted in a lack of posts more than anything emotional, though. It's just been an insanely busy week. That probably compounded the stress and fatigue I've been feeling...

Fortunately, this week is over and maybe I can recharge a bit this weekend. I'll be back next week.

I hope you have a terrific weekend!!

Skimming the Surfaces

The post that was actually intended for today will be put up tomorrow. Sorry about that peeps, but I'm taking this particular one rather seriously and want it to be "just right." In the meantime...

Got this from espn.com's The Sports Guy's most recent "mailbag" -- the dude gets mail from fans and then answers them (but this actually is part of a fan's email and not his response...) -- and thought I'd share with you:

"Dr. Drew has a theory about the impact of reality TV, and that it has created a generation of people who want to be famous, but don't want to put in the work to develop the skills or talent to be famous. Why study or practice or go to acting school or music school, etc., when you can just get on a reality show and be famous instantly?"

You know what I have to say to that? Amen, brother. We are picking up what you're laying down here at the Ducks.

Anyhow, I love the quote and felt it was share-worthy. (So I shared it.)

In other news, we have an oil pipe leak here in Michigan and it's making me sick. Well, I'm not sick from contact or anything like that, but we, as a human race, are being incredibly irresponsible.

Seriously, are we going to learn?

Now, I'm not the smartest man around -- heck, I'm probably not even the smartest person here at this blog -- but I think there are a couple of fundamental problems...

You know what, I have too many thoughts on both of these particular issues -- fame and oil -- and will have to revisit them at a later time. But not tomorrow! Tomorrow's post is altogether different.

Good night, the world!

Keepin' It Short

I know that I can be, um, rather liberal with the definition of "quick," but today's post is actually going to be a quick one. (Just wanted to acknowledge that upfront.)

Semi-related note: So I was going to say that today's post will be "short," right? Well, I was just walking back from the fridge and it dawned on me that some days I feel taller than others. I'm not sure how/why that happens. I started thinking that my jeans are rather long and maybe that has something to do with me not feeling as tall today as I probably did yesterday.

Of course, I also have days where I'll think "Huh, I'm feeling kind of tall right now." The weird -- "weirder" (let's be honest...) -- part is that it's never in reference to being around other people. So I really don't know where that comes from.

(I'm a fairly average height and don't worry about size like some shorter dudes -- Skee Lo, I'm looking in your direction -- might.)

Whoa, that was rather random. Anyhow...

Today's post just isn't "all that." If you're looking for something better -- of the "mine" variety -- check out last Friday's post (if you haven't already).

If you're looking for something better -- of the "someone else, but I could totally see John writing this, too" variety -- check out Kathryn's take on procrastination and group therapy. (Simply a fantastic post. As noted in the comments, I gave it five stars... which is something I rarely do.)

If you're looking for something better -- of the "not even close to anything John would write" variety -- check out Missed Period's take on a lot of words used for the same thing. (Her writing is so much more focused than mine. Plus, she has a lot more to offer education-wise than I do. She has a fabulous way of mixing that in with her humor and it’s always brilliant.)

Monday's post is going to be rather significant. That's all I'm going to say about it for right now, though.

p.s. I'll reply to comments from the previous two posts this weekend. I promise!

On Inescapable Prison; Facebook

I love being out and about.

(You have no idea how tempted I am to just leave it at that, walk away and keep you guys guessing.)

Anyhow, it's a great activity for someone like me, someone who thoroughly enjoys people watching. I would most likely enjoy that activity even if I didn't fancy myself as a writer. I think people are fascinating. (Well, not all people. I mean, some are complete dullards. Not you, of course.)

But people-watching, by itself, really only incorporates one of my sensory abilities. I am a man of many -- and let's consider five to be "many" -- senses. (Impressed and intrigued, aren't you?)

Now, people-tasting, I've discovered, is not socially acceptable. (Or legal.) Someone probably should have told me a while ago that you can't just start licking people at the store. Would have been super helpful to know…

Uh, same goes for people-touching. Some of it is illegal; some is just awkward (random high-fives, as an example). (What? I thought the cashier did an exceptional job of ringing up my groceries. I felt that was a suitable occasion for a high-five.)

Smelling people is okay -- as long as you aren't sniffing too closely or obviously -- but it's generally better when you can't smell people, unless they are wearing cologne or perfume in a subtle (read as "not gag-inducing") amount. So no issues there, I suppose.

That leaves one last sense for me to talk about... the ability to detect and interpret sound. (I'm totally going to put that on my resume. "So it says here that you can "detect and interpret sound?" "Yep, that's right. So when do I start?") (Note: That's a little funnier if you picture me as Norm MacDonald imitating Burt Reynolds from the classic Saturday Night Live "Celebrity Jeopardy" sketches, especially wearing a giant-sized cowboy hat.)

Editor's note: His note contained a little too many pop culture references in the same sentence. We'll try giving him a shorter leash.

Writer's note to Editor: Shorter leash? Ha! Never!

Actual note to Readers: I apologize for not including a link to the Celebrity Jeopardy sketch. I searched NBC's website, but they don't have one available. Nothing on YouTube, either. (That seems to be the case with most SNL material.) Now, as a thought, I have mixed feelings about this. On one hand, it's terribly inconvenient. On the other, our society feels as though we should be entitled to watch/read/listen to anything at no cost. We want it... we want it now... and we want it for free. (That is our new motto, I believe.) So I respect NBC's right to control its own property and fight against that increasingly prevailing attitude. Sure, having a link to that clip might make my little blog better, but the whole "free content" concept screws over a lot of artists. I don’t think that is right. At least, that's my take on it.

Where was I? Oh, that's right... hearing people in public.

The other day, while having a prescription filled, I was fortunate enough to hear two old ladies talking about Facebook. Quite frankly, if you haven't heard a conversation between two senior citizens talking about Facebook, well, then you simply have not lived.

I wasn't around for the start of the conversation, but was still able to quickly ascertain that the one had a male relative or friend or booty call (just making sure you’re reading!) who was involved with "the Facebooks." She was talking about the pictures on there (he apparently showed her how someone had put up unattractive-looking ones), the amount of time people waste doing it and the fact that "once you're in, it's impossible to escape." (Just like prison.) (How fantastic would it have been if she included that?)

Now, this poor old lady believes there is no possible way to leave Facebook. Well, actually you can, but they try to guilt you out of it. ("These people will miss you if you go!" Um, if they don't have any other means of contacting me, then how close were we in the first place?)

I know this to be true because I've looked into it. One of these days, I'm going to get around to cancelling my Facebook account.

I am not a fan of that particular service and only signed up in the first place over some misguided notion that I could use it to help foster a new freelance writing career for myself.

(Yeah, it hasn't been helpful for that purpose in the least. I'm convinced that my friends and family either hate me, or cannot see my messages. Whichever, Facebook is proving to be an epic fail.)

Anyway, I intelligently inferred that the old lady is an avid Ducks reader.

Note to old lady: Yes, Virginia, there is a way to leave Facebook. (I didn't catch your name in the conversation, but you kind of looked like a "Virginia.") And your friend/relative won't have to attempt any Prison Break-style escape, either. He just needs to prepare himself for Facebook's impassioned plea to stay. Tell him to stay strong. Tell him it is, in fact, possible to leave Facebook. And tell him to spend his newfound free time here at the Ducks! Thank you.

(Well, I'm considering that my good deed for the day. I should probably get a merit badge or lots and lots of cash for that.) (Hopefully not the merit badge.)

Facebook: The Musical

This past weekend I saw "Inception" and one of the previews beforehand was for "The Social Network." I'm not sure why they don't just call it "Facebook: The Movie." (Seems like it would break things down for those with simpler understanding of things. Those who would decide to take a donkey parasailing, as an example.)

The tagline for "The Social Network" is something along the lines of "You don't get 500 million friends without making a few enemies." Now, that's a great tagline. I mean, it conveys significance -- 500 million friends!! -- and conflict in one fell swoop. Love the tagline... except that rather liberal use of the word "friend."

Relevant segue: An important part of life for me is authenticity. I'm not going to use the term "friend" unless I mean it. Actually, this was a point of contention with some former co-workers of mine once upon a time.

Quite a few years back, I was working third shift and had been on the job only a couple of weeks. I called my sister to see if she would be willing to pick me up food from a fast food place for my lunch break. (She was.) After I hung up the phone, my two colleagues questioned "What about us?"

Admittedly, I did feel a tad guilty about not checking with them. (I had just figured they were set, food-wise, for the night.) So I called my sister back and said "Would you be willing to pick something up for my co-workers, too?" (See anything wrong there? No? Neither did I.)

When I hung up the phone, the guys were still upset.

"Oh, so we're just co-workers now, huh?" (Uh, yeah, that is exactly what we were.)
"What do you mean?"
"Why didn't you say 'friends from work?'" (Because I had never hung out with them outside of the facility.)

I didn't think about it at the time, and probably wouldn't have said even if I did, but I don't use the term lightly. I have about 120 people on my Facebook right now. Minus family and acquaintances, I'd say I've got about a dozen true friends on there, give or take. I'm just fine with that.

(So why all the acquaintances? Well, I was having a hard time saying "no" to people for a while. It's not on account of some weird obsession to have as many "friends" as possible, which I swear is the motivation behind some Facebookers out there. Maybe I'll call those people Facebookhookers. Anyone who has 900 friends is a Facebookhooker. Feel free to use the term, but -- much like a bo staff -- use it responsibly.)

Note: If you are using Facebook for business/marketing purposes and have a gajillion friends, that is totally cool with me. If that's the case, you are not a Facebookhooker. You are something else... but I don't have a term for it at this time. In the event I come up with one, I'll be sure to share. You have my word.

Anyhow, I'm thinking about adapting the Facebook story into a musical. It will be awesome.

In other news...

Lindsey Lohan is heading to jail. (I feel safer already.) Robert Shapiro has apparently quit on her. What does that say, you know? I mean, the dude defended O.J. "Clearly Guilty" Simpson. Let that sink in for a moment...

Editor's note: He means to say "Clearly Guilty in Civil Court." (Our legal department was freaking out, but this clarification should cover it.)

How sad is it that he took a look at LiLo and said "Unlike O.J., you are a real mess. I can't handle this. Call F. Lee Bailey." (From whereabouts unknown, F. Lee Bailey's ears pick up, catching that final bit. "Damn you, Shapiro," he says to the moonlit night sky, fist pumping menacingly. "Damn you!")

I'm currently -- and I mean that in the most literal meaning of the word -- listening to Phish's "Joy" (from the album of the same name). I cannot recommend this song strongly enough. It is beautiful from both a musical and lyrical perspective. Just thought I'd share that with you, my favorite peeps. Definitely worth a buck or whatever to download from iTunes or any reputable music source.

Actually, once the song is done, I'm going to play it a second time! (Not often I do something like that.)

Now, the whole "Joy" album is really good. There might be one or two tracks that make me shrug a bit, but how many albums don't have songs like that? (Answer: Not a lot.) Worth checking out if you have the funds and interest. If you're conserving money, the buck for the song "Joy" is still money well-spent.

Final thought: So, uh, does Mel Gibson just want everyone on Earth to hate him? (He could certainly use George W.'s "Mission Accomplished" banner.)

Wasn't Sure About This One, but I'm Posting It Anyhow

So I tried maintaining two blogs for a while. To be polite to, well, myself, that was an ill-advised endeavor. (If you aren't polite with yourself, who can you possibly be polite to?)

Maintaining one blog is a lot of work as is... but I didn't know that. I figured I'd just write brilliant pieces for both blogs and readers would flock from everywhere. (Uh, not exactly. I'm not actually delusional... but hopefully you see the point.)

Then I started to learn how things actually work in the real world.

Quick digression: Talli Roland has a blog I rather enjoy following.* Today she talks about things you really should consider doing if you want to have people follow/read your blog. I think all bloggers who are honest with themselves should openly admit to this being quite important. I mean, we write so people will read, correct? (If your answer is "no," I don't know what to possibly say in response. So let's just assume you said "yes" for the sake of moving along...)

* Since I'm not opposed in the least to pimping a blog I support, please find a link to her page here (for after you are done reading this much-belabored post). And be sure to follow, since you're already there. (It is, after all, the polite thing to do.) You have a Ducks-guarantee that you will not be disappointed!

Anyhow, I've basically turned off my J.M. Neeb blog. Sure, it's technically still up, but that is because I had left a note -- much like a shipwrecked, nautical disaster survivor might stuff into a bottle (Where does the bottle come from, though?) -- for anyone who did follow me there to come on over to the Ducks... if they want to do so. (Far be it from me to tell anyone else what to do.)

I decided to focus my efforts on the Ducks.

"So what was the difference between the two blogs," the ever-inquisitive (and always impeccably-dressed) Ducks readers ask in unison. (Yes, in my mind you are all reading at the same time. I also figure you coordinate this mass-reading via telegram, pigeon messengers and smoke signals.)

Excellent question, my favorite peeps. Well, J.M. was supposed to be more of a look at my journey (not the band Journey) into becoming a full-time writer (whether by freelance corporate writing, short stories, humor, whatever.) See, I am a writer. It is in my blood and I can't conquer it. I can try fighting it, but my nature will win every time. (My nature is kind of like the New York Yankees, except not evil.)

What I found was that it didn't seem to be rather exciting for anyone who isn't me, which happens to be most of the world. (Who would have guessed?)

Ducks Out Of A Row was supposed to be more like my "column," and it really has been. This presents more of an opportunity to be humorous and provide my thoughts on random things (Taliban monkey soldiers, for example). I figured, hopefully "rightfully so," that there would be more interest in this blog and it won out over J.M.

(By the way, those are my first two initials. No one actually calls me that, but I'm terribly private. Of course, I have my name listed somewhere in the About Me section, so I'm not sure how much it matters.)

"Okay, all this rambling has to come to some kind of conclusion or point, right?"

Right. My point today is that I'm a writer. I don't talk about it much here, well, because I'm busy writing the actual posts. But I write quite a bit beyond this blog. I have short stories and future novels in various stages of development. And I think about writerly stuff -- like, just because "writerly" isn't a word, is there any reason why I couldn’t use it if the readers will know what I mean? (See what I did there? Pure genius.)

And I want to see the craft thrive, which is something I worry about in this day and age of the Internet and text messaging and “The Dumbest Generation.”

"Alright, now he's picking up speed."

So I just wanted to put something out there for my fellow writers. I don’t have any affiliation whatsoever to this publication, but I’d like to encourage you to take a look at at Glimmer Train and consider subscribing.

The sisters (Susan and Linda) who run this particular literary magazine are, in my opinion, doing a tremendous service for writers. Anyone who publishes literary fiction, and hosts contests, to help writers deserves recognition by the community they support.

To be honest, I intend on submitting either for publication or a contest with Glimmer Train at a later date, but do not think for a moment that this will either help or hurt my chances. (I never do the whole “brown-nose” thing. Ever.) (Well, I’m a man of principles when you get down to it.)

According to their About Us page, Susan and Linda launched Glimmer Train in 1990 and haven’t broken even. Which means they are clearly doing it for the love of writing and that inspires me. That kind of passion for the written word is simply awesome.

Anyhow, this was important for me to mention, so that’s what I’m doing. My budget doesn’t allow for a subscription at the moment, but that will change in about a month, and so will my non-subscribing status at that time.

Just something for you to think about, I guess.

That’s all I got for now.

Editor’s note: Yep.

How to Cause an Upset Stomach (Even If You Don’t Already Have One)

I'm going to keep this short today, peeps. You know that's not my usual style, but I'm not feeling my usual self. (My stomach usually doesn't feel like it's full of rusty nails agitating like a washing machine.)

Truth be told, I was going to forgo posting altogether, but a certain headline caught my eye and I had some thoughts -- as I'm prone to do -- and figured I'd share.

Upon logging out of Hotmail, MSN.com presented me with the following gem -- "Report: 'Jersey Shore' cast goes on strike."

(Why couldn't those sadists at MSN know that I am already sick to my stomach?)

Apparently, the "stars" -- and I use that term in the loosest possible context (think Pauly Shore) -- believe they are underpaid.

(Now, I don't know the going rate for: working out, tanning and laundering dirty clothes, but if it's more than $10k/episode, then I am clearly in the wrong profession.)

The problem with fame is that it gives people an inflated sense of self-importance. Sure, entertainment serves a somewhat important role. Life is stressful and hard, and the temporary escape it provides can help keep us sane.

But let's keep things in perspective, people!

Does anyone really think the Jersey Shore crew serves a more vital purpose to society than doctors, teachers or firefighters? (Well, I mean "anyone besides the cast of Jersey Shore themselves.")

Given the choice, would anyone really pick "being able to watch Jersey Shore" over "having my garbage removed?" (As long as people are using their heads, they are choosing garbage men as being more important than Jersey Shore cast members.)

Perhaps I shouldn't get hung up on something as trivial as "talent," but what possible talent do these people have to offer, exceptional tan-ness aside? (None.) Why should I care about them? (I don't.) And why can't that one guy keep his shirt down? (Note: I'm in excellent physical condition, but I don't feel the need to constantly pull up my shirt in public.)

According to Wikipedia -- the most reliable source of information ever created -- there were 9 episodes of Season 1. At $10,000 a pop, that's... well, you can do the math. Is the service they provide really that valuable?

No, no it's not.

Editor's note: He'll do better next time, folks. The stomach issues have not been a lot of fun.