Pledge Week results!

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The people have spoken! 

And they said, “Ehhh …”

My earnest, ballyhooed, passionate blog pledge drive landed with a thud. Total haul from 10 enthusiasts: $547.

That was four $100 donations, one $52, two $25, one $20, a $15 and a $10. Each donor will receive equal prominence on the acknowledgements page of my new “Use All The Crayons! II,” which I hope to have available for sale by September. And each will receive a free signed copy.

So what do I do with my “windfall?” What’s the splurge? I hadn’t seen my sunglasses in about a month. I’d had them about six years and was eager to update with something stylish. I’d planned on going to The Eyeglass Shoppe on Route 30  today to shoppe, er, shop.

But I found the old ones rattling around beneath the driver’s seat Sunday morning on my way to church.

Nothing’s going right!

Now I’m conflicted about the blog’s future. Certainly, it must change.

I don’t doubt that many people really enjoy it and consider it a welcome distraction. For the first time, I had three months in a row with more than 10,000 unique views from all over the world. That’s not insignificant.

We’re talking Trump inauguration numbers.

And I really enjoy keeping it lively and fresh. It indulges a swampy part of my mind where offbeat ideas stew and seek release.

But, geez, there’s another part of my mind, the minuscule stump where cold logic dwells, that shouts the blog is a tremendous waste of time and energy.

I’d hoped to show that part of my mind a great, big bag of money to refute all its shrill protests. Take that, brain!

Alas, it is not meant to be. 

I’ve started a new novel and I think it’s time to really inhabit it, to divert all the time and thought I use for the blog and apply it to a new novel. I intend it to be fast and funny. My goal is write about 60,000 words by Labor Day and have some version of the story on Amazon in time for the holidays.

What’s the book about? It’s a satire about the upheaval the introduction social media wreaks on the afterlife. It centers on a star-crossed Romeo and Juliet couple only instead of Juliet being on a balcony, she’s in heaven and instead of Romeo being on a plaza, he is in hell.

It’s a match made in heaven.

And hell!

And it’s all thanks to Facebook.

Maybe this will be the project that leads to some sort of authorial stability.

Maybe not.

I now know this after nine years: no stability will come from blogging four or five times each week.

It’s like what Branch Rickey told future Pirate Hall of Famer Ralph Kiner when Kiner said he was too valuable to be traded.

“Ralph,” Rickey said, “we finished last with you, we can finish last without you.”

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Pledge Week: A bleak career assessment

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I used to dream I’d one day become a great writer. A wiser man would have known it would have been better to dream he’d one day become a successful writer.

Big difference.

Am I a great writer? Lots of people say so. I think I’ve become exactly the kind of writer I always wanted to be, funny with a keen eye for offbeat observation. I know there are no other writers that make me wish I could trade my talents for theirs.

Maybe I’m delusional.

Or maybe I’m not delusional enough. Being more delusional would certainly benefit my peace of mind.

I’ve written two books that have earned exactly the kind of reaction writers crave. People say say they’re hilarious and soulful. They buy them for friends and recommend them to other readers. They provide gushy on-line reviews.

Even many of my friends began treating me differently after they’d read “The Last Baby Boomer.” Sure, they loved “Use All The Crayons!” But that book wasn’t so much written as assembled, stitched together with treads and fabric I’d worn like so many colorful shirts.

But “Last Baby Boomer” was real writing really written. It’s like my friends were shocked someone they know so well was capable of something they considered great.

It’s a real kick in the ass when that shit happens.

So many people compare it to Kurt Vonnegut. In fact, I’d never read Kurt Vonnegut until readers started comparing me to him.

I read “Dead Eye Dick.” Didn’t like it. Thought I was better.

How’s that for delusional!

I’ve never asked anyone to take me seriously, but people began taking me more seriously as a writer after they’d read that book. It was very gratifying. So, I thought, this is what if feels like to be a real writer.

Only took me 30 years!

You’re aware by now of my affections for the blog. People say they can’t live without it. Many of these same people, to my ever-loving chagrin, don’t seem to have the disposable income to justify paying even a penny a post for it. 

One of the great surprises to me is how much people enjoy hearing my “Use All The Crayons!” talk. I’ve twice been paid $2,500 to address groups of 250 people. And they all loved me and chipped in with referrals and gushy compliments I still use when pitching to other event planners.

How come I can’t figure out a way to arrange one of those a month? Am I close? Somedays I think so. Other days, I fear it’ll never happen.

I may, indeed, be a great writer and speaker, but I’m an utter failure in every single category that people like Trump use to consider success.

I’m in debt. My car’s a wreck with 180,799 miles on it. I can’t afford to buy my wife and kids the things I wish I could. I sometimes feel crushed by disappointment.

How come I can’t convert evident abilities into even meager income?

My entire so-called “career” seems to be one of disappointment, rejection, humiliation and cruel defeat. I lie awake at night wondering how it’s all gone so wrong.

And what’s truly confounding is how I wake up every morning soulfully convinced that this will be the day something great is bound to happen. I’m stubbornly convinced I’m doing exactly what I ought to be doing and it’s all going to work out just fine.

Sadly, I’ve been thinking that every day since, gulp, 1992.

I may be broke but, by God, I’ll never be broken.

Being delusional isn’t a character flaw.

Being delusional is a frreakin’ godsend.

• Chris Rodell, 874 Solomon Temple Rd., Latrobe, Pa. 15650. Or just click the PayPal (storyteller@chrisrodell.com) donate button.

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Random thoughts amidst unseemly Pledge Week begging

• I know many of you start each day with a cup of hot coffee. Since, oh, mid-April I’ve been starting each day by watching Ray Davies and the Jayhawks perform “Americana,” the title cut from Ray’s magnificent new album. I find it soothingly elevating.

• If it wasn’t pledge week, I’d today be writing about how I told my mother (84, dementia) a dear old cousin of hers had gotten eaten by a bear. In fact, he died of a common heart attack, but I thought I’d use his death to see if she’d remember a really colorful demise. As she does not, I keep adding details. It’s now a very rich and gothic death, one which I think cousin Chuck would prefer. He was a fun and outdoorsy guy who was fond of wearing ’70’s style leisure suits. I’m enjoying telling the fiction because it proves, to hungry bears at least, you don’t have to exude good taste to taste good.

• In my mind, I was hoping my plea for donations would be greeted the way Bedford Falls greeted Mary Bailey’s “It’s A Wonderful Life” summons that her husband George was broke and needed dough fast. That hasn’t happened yet, but I’ll be sure to post something cheerful the instant it does.

• Spent the weekend with the family being tourists in D.C. It was wonderful. We spent Friday evening doing the Western monuments (Lincoln, Vietnam, Korean, MLK, FDR, Jefferson), Saturday the centrals (Washington monument, Holocaust Museum,  WWII, American History) and Sunday the eastern sites (Capitol, Supreme Court, Air & Space, Natural History, Hall of Archives and later the National Zoo). We’re so divided over so much, but that every American can enjoy each of these historical splendors for free is a national blessing.

• If it wasn’t pledge week, I’d have written about Uber. My old Nashville buddy Jim pointed out an NYTimes story about how the once-promising partnership between Uber & Pittsburgh soured. We used Uber a bunch in DC. Being aware what a criminal jerk Uber CEO Travis Kalanick is, it pained me to use them so much. Uber drivers work for next to nothing, get no respect, and have to hustle to make ends meet. So Uber drivers are like the bloggers of the transportation world! And, yes, we always tipped them (nudge, nudge).

• I realized I became eligible for an Order of Irony Medal when we were standing in front of a monument honoring victims and survivors of the Bataan Death March and all I could think about was how sore my feet felt.

• A friend of mine turned 40 this week and was lamenting how he now felt over the hill, done, used up. Overlooking the fact he was making this gloomy assessment to a 54-year-old listener, I told him he was fine. “Plus,” I said, “even if you are over the hill, it helps to remember going downhill fast is always the most exhilarating part of the ride.” I’m going to try and keep that in mind as my declines accelerate.

• I’m very proud of this blog and the number of people who enjoy it so much, but if circumstances don’t improve, changes will be made. I’m paraphrasing here with something I heard on an actual PBS pledge drive.

• The literalist in me was furious to visit Smithsonian Air & Space Museum and see it has both walls and ceilings.

• Jim, that same old Nashville buddy, asked if donation amounts lead to increasing gift levels. Like does a $25 pledge earn a blog umbrella; a $50 pledge a blog tote bag; etc.? I told him I'll start throwing in cheap bulk tchotchke when surging donations make purchasing cheap bulk tchotchke possible.

• I am putting together a sequel to “Use All The Crayons!” How about this? Anyone who donates to support the blog will get a grateful mention in the new book’s acknowledgments. And a free signed copy!

• I guarantee some of the jurors being selected in Pittsburgh for what is likely to be a long trial once said, “Oh, I just love Bill Cosby! I wish I could spend some time getting to know him even better.”

• If it wasn’t pledge week, I’d be writing about our visit to the magnificent Lincoln Monument and one of my favorite recollections of offbeat Presidential history. It was May 9, 1970, five days after the Kent State shootings. It was there under the shadow of Lincoln that then-President Richard Nixon surprised college protesters by appearing in person at 4 a.m. just to philosophize. It was utterly bizarre. The students asked Nixon questions about U.S. incursions into Cambodia, about the death of innocents and the morality of war. Yeah, in the back of my mind, I game planned what I’d ask President Trump if he on the spur of the moment decided to wade out among the tourists. Was I going to ask about prejudice? Equality? The sustainability of human life on a depleted planet? Nope, nope and nope. I was going to ask him if he’d likes to donate to support Eight Days To Amish. I’m optimistic he’d have written me a check on the spot.

• Chris Rodell, 874 Solomon Temple Rd., Latrobe, Pa. 15650. Or just click the PayPal (storyteller@chrisrodell.com) donate button.

• No amount too small … or too large! Every gesture appreciated.

A month in my mind; October's best tweets

Follow me @8days2Amish! It's like spending the entire month inside my head but without the hangovers...

• Ever-present distractions & video substitutes, for the first time in history humans are at risk of engaging in deliberate illiteracy.

• It may be that I'll always be broke, but by God I'll never be broken.

• I wonder if parents of boys born above the Arctic Circle ever struggle with the illogic of naming the fair-skinned child Tanner.

• Being "left to their own devices," once a stinging form of social abandonment, is now the preferred human activity.

• I’m one of those Christians who believes in God, but has trouble God could ever believe in me.

• Trump is the only man in America whom if you said, "Roy Cohn would be proud of you," would think it's a compliment. 

• I’m eager to find a website that archives audios of man’s greatest speeches, but said in the voice of Elmer Fudd. Yes, I have a dweam.

• I wonder if in the interest of modernity Fairfax, Va., is thinking about becoming Fairtext, Va.

• I wonder if in heaven all the movies are G-rated because that's a potential flaw.

• In heaven, the bottom lines will be determined by artists and that means in heaven the bottom lines will be squiggly rainbows.

• I’m confused about pejorative origins of the word “hardship.” Hardship should be good. History would be different if Titanic were a hardship.

• I know it's going to lead to trouble, but I can't resist putting lit matches under ears of strangers & asking, "Are your ears burning?”

• There ought to be a country song called, "I Married a Country Song" and my wife ought to write it.

• My failures have been so persistent my delusions of grandeur have become delusions of mediocrity.

• I wonder if fundamentalist climate change deniers see any irony in having sons named Noah.

• Right now every coach, player and commentator is saying some version of the exact same thing. Rejoice, NFL! We've achieved parroty! 

• If something as adversarially named as opposable thumbs can work hand-in-hand, how come the rest of us can’t?

• Any time anyone tells me I'm good listener I want to say, really, I'm just good at smiling and nodding, but all I do is smile and nod.

• Given our societal lasciviousness, I'm surprised I've never seen shirt buttons that look like stiff nipples.

• I predict this is the week Trump declares he will rename Gulf of Mexico the Gulf of Make America Great Again.

• How did ammunition get shorted to ammo instead of ammu? Is a word pronounced "am-MOO" too bovine for tough guys?

• I sometimes ask myself if I drink too much. I usually say no. I do this out loud and using two different voices like I'm on stage. 

• A woman decides with in 5 seconds whether or not to have sex with a man? That's a lie. I've been married 20 yrs & my wife's still not sure.

• I wonder if there are any bell & whistle stores that boast they sell bells & whistles with all the bells & whistles.

• I so love deadpan humor I can only conclude it killed the livepan kind.

• It’s now been 10 days. So this is the longest Arnold Palmer's gone without signing an autograph in 60 years.

• In the future, early voting will become so popular elections Election Day will be unnecessary.

• Just realized: For the first time in my life, I can probably beat Arnold Palmer at golf - but he'll still have to give strokes. 

• Some succeed by digging deep hopes to remove precious metals. If I ever succeed it’ll be ‘cause I’ve dug many shallow holes & planted seeds.

• In the future, "stupid" will be spelled "stoopid" so we can add additional "o's" to illustrate the degree of stoopidity.

• Haven’t had so much as a cold in years. I'd say I was healthy as a horse if I could verify horses suffer from occasional hangovers.

• Just occurred to me: Elvis Presley & Arnold Palmer will be seated near each other if there are homerooms in heaven.

• If house was on fire would you save photo albums or phone? Trick question. Your photo album is your phone and your phone is always there.

• Ideas about how to advance more quickly through lines are queue tips.

• Saw an incongruous scene at Steeler game. Native American Indians in ceremonial dress dancing at scoreboard pavillion. #Yinzdians?

• In order to ease passenger nerves, I propose airlines hire only pilots named Landon so it'll sound like: "Your pilot today will be landin’"

• The Rolling Stones today have more greatest hits albums (14) than most bands have great hits.

• Pokey school bus  made me late for "Price is Right" Showdown. Can't help but think this wouldn't have happened if Arnold Palmer hadn't died.

• It’s your past. Make it as colorful as you wish. I say I put myself through college working as a male stripper.

• How sizable would the yard sale be if you had access to all the stuff enemies through-out your life told you to shove up your ass? 

• I’m looking forward to reading serious analytic stories about how 16 qualified men couldn't beat Donald Trump, but one woman could.

• The chances of finding suits in a suitcase are even less than those of anyone ever finding gloves in a glovebox.

• A gym beam requires steady footwork. A Jim Beam isn't nearly as fussy.

• Lovebirds are fine, but it's too narrow a description for many personalities. There ought to be lovedogs, lovelizards, lovemonkeys, etc.

• I figured out why Earth is such a mess: It's bi-polar!

• Those who obsess over audacious bucket lists go beyond the pail.

• My mind's been wandering so long I'm surprised it's not appeared on someone's milk carton.

• The pessimist bemoans all the traitors who've thrown him under the bus. The optimist thinks one day he'll make a really swell bus mechanic.

• What is it about the language that makes "The Steel Curtain" sound so much more fearsome than "The Steel Drapes?”

• People who say revenge is a dish best served cold fail to realize if revenge had a drive-thru traffic would be lined up for miles.

• I’m still mystified why more transgender people don't congregate in a Wisconsin town named Sheboygan.

• We hear lots about Jesus as the Son of God. I wonder about Uncle Jesus. Wouldn't it have been cool to say Jesus was your Uncle?

• People convicted of road rage offenses should be sentenced to master and when possible go from here to there via tap dance.

• We live in a time when never before have so many unhappy people had the ability to appear so joyously otherwise. Thank you, Facebook!

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October ’12 tweets of the month

Too damn busy to blog

My back aches. My knees are sore. I haven’t had a hangover in 10 days. It’s a world gone mad.

What gives?

I’m immersed in rehabbing my mother’s South Hills condo with my buddy Mark. He’s a marvel. He does flooring, masonry, drywall, plumbing, electric. I tell you, he does it all.

Me? I try not to get busted checking Facebook while Mark’s doing all the work. 

The progress is already impressive and I’m confident we’re adding thousands of dollars in value to the eventual sales price. But it’s a lot of hard work, especially for a guy who’s idea of hard work is writing a blog that runs 800 words instead of 700.

And I miss near-daily blogging.

• Josie, 15, is out-earning her father. She’s working the Dippin’ Dots stand at Idlewild. She’s enjoying the job and I’m happy for her, but the situation underscores how I’ve made some really, really bad decisions about my career. 

• I’d like to see the reaction of the conservative media if after last night Hillary dumped Tim Kaine and nominated Michelle Obama for VP.

• It’d be fun for future historians if Hillary became president and became embroiled in a sex scandal with a young male intern. 

• I had the car AC fixed last week. I just couldn’t endure another day of parkway traffic with the windows down. Really, the heat was (barely) tolerable, but the highway noise drove me crazy. I love listening to satellite radio in the car and no AC made that impossible. 

• My favorite Sirius stations are (not in any order) Willie’s Roadhouse, E Street Radio, Tom Petty Radio, Outlaw Country, Elvis, and Bluesville. But I jump around to jazz, Broadway and all the decade stations. But the first thing I check is always Radio Classics. Val, too. We just love those campy old radio shows. I in particular love the Westerns and Dragnet. So entertaining. To us, at least. Our kids threaten to jump out of the moving vehicle the instant they hear it on.

• Unless every reader abandons me all at once, sometime in the next two days this blog will have had its busiest month. It’s conceivable this month will be the first 10,000-view month. I know, it’s hardly Khardashian, but it seems substantial to me. Thanks for reading. Please share with friends whenever you deem it worthy.

• My nominee for stupid Trump tweet of the month goes to the one that argued our enemies must be drooling because neither Clinton nor Kaine “look” like leaders. Our WWII enemies thought the same thing about a fat old drunken Englishman and a hobbled Yankee who was confined to a wheelchair. It makes it seem surprising that Trump picked Mike Pence instead of Dwayne Johnson. 

• Part of the big blog month is due to an unlikely surge in Russian readers. So many throngs of old Soviets have taken to the blog, it almost feels like a prank. But I figure a country that has yet to master the technologies of the flush toilet has better things to do so I take it at face value.

• Equally odd and just as welcome was the news that more than 150 readers from the Indian Ocean island paradise of Mauritius flocked in to read the blog. How this happens when I’ve never in my life typed much less visited Mauritius is baffling. I intend to write about this again in hopes island official invite me and my family to visit March 12 for Mauritius Independence Day to be the parade grand marshall.

• The blog in the last month has enjoyed heavy readership from people in Germany, France, China, Canada, Ireland, Ukraine and Slovenia. Most unusual? A couple people from the tiny landlocked principality of Andorra in France. I have no idea how any of these internationals find the blog. Heck, I’m surprised when people from Altoona find it.

• I haven’t had time to tweet much this month, but this is one of my favorites: “Did your Mom ever write your name on your undershirt tag? She was years ahead of her time. Mom: inventor of the original Collar ID!”

• After a great run of summer presentations to financiers, library patrons, retired teachers and other groups, I’m now facing an empty calendar. It’s confounding. I was in the running for keynoting the Women In Trucking convention in San Antonio in October and just found out the picked someone else. How can that be? This is bound to sound immodest, but wouldn’t I be perfect for WIT?

• To put the blog numbers in perspective, a month where I’ll get more than 9,000 readers still pays less than a day working at the Dippin’ Dots shack.

• Back to work! And I only wish that meant more blogging.

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