New Kevolution Theory Word; Snoading

Snoading (sno-ding) v the practice of tying a load on when it's snowing; the intersection of snowing and drinking

Ex; "It's supposed to snow again? Fuck shoveling, I'm gonna be snoading."

Snoader (sno-derr) n someone who actively snoads

Ex; The package store is full of pathetic snoaders today."

Now go forth and spread the word.

The Wildwood Story; Title Hopes

I think you know me to be an honest kinda fella. But, truth is, I’ve been hiding something from you. I have my reasons. I will call your attention to an analogy that has seemed to be running through my pathetic existence the last few years; life is like Charlie Brown trying to kick that damn football. And for the last 8 months, I have seen that ball teed up right in front of me. Not taunting me or mocking me; just there. Enough distance that it wouldn’t be tantalizingly close to me. But has time has gone on, it has come closer. I mean, this is very good news for me and all. But it is just my pessimistic nature to not jinx it or call attention to it. The last thing I want to do is make a big deal, only for that bitch Lucy to come along and swipe the ball just as I kick. But now I have reason to believe that it will happen.

Something I wrote is going to be published. Like, semi-real deal, ink and paper published. Using my real name, and will be read by thousands of people published. Retelling a tale that was vital in my youth. About a topic that is near and dear to my cold, black heart. Surprisingly, this has nothing to do with fart jokes.

I wrote a ‘piece’ as real deal writers like to call these things. I submitted it to a paper, and they are going to run it. And this is no Penny Saver BS. The fine institution that will give the rest of the ignorant world my brilliance publishes five issues a year, and my article will be featured for the spring edition. Sure, it’s no NY Times, but who writes for that rag these days anyway? This is quite the thrill for your esteemed Klogger. On top of that, the topic is about something I love; the beach.

So now as this all gears up, it seems tailor made to Klog about. Writing about writing. I am sure you can throw in some BS Seinfeld reference, but I never watched that show. So how this all came to be follows. Last April, my wife and I had the opportunity to go to Wildwood, NJ for a few days. This was a big deal to me, as my obsession with all things beach started with my one weekend all summer I got to spend in Wildwood. (You can search out those Klogs with the summer tag) I had been away from Wildwood for about 20 years, so I was really looking forward to returning. It’s funny how many of those memories are so vivid.

We went down and had a blast. Part of the trip was to revisit the house my sisters and their friends rented for a few summers. When I was a kid, my entire year was based around the one lone weekend I would get to go to Wildwood. Those brief trips actually taught me a lot. It taught me how to save, as I would squirrel away my paper route money for months in advance. It taught me the value of having good times with good friends. The place we stayed in –basically a converted garage-taught me that I don’t need the finest things in life to have a good life. Er, wait a minute, being an unemployed loser taught me that. I learned that the beach is where I want to live one day. At the rate I’m going, I might be homeless under the boards, but that still counts.

So when I came back from this trip, I had a ton of material floating around in my head. So I do what I always do, huffed some gold spray paint and got to writing it out. I liked the resulting Klog, if not my keyboard being colored in gold. While we were down there, I brought back every paper they had. I felt like I was bringing a little piece back with me. One of the papers I brought back was mostly about people reminiscing about their favorite Wildwood memories. A light went off. Damn faulty switch.

I revisited the resulting Klog. I tore it apart (removed all the zombie references, didn’t think that would fly), drastically shortened and re-edited it and added some new material. Voila, I have a story. Feeling all WTF, I sent if off to this fine publication. Lo and behold, they will run it, but not till next spring, as it is spring themed. OK, a tease, but something to keep my eye on down the road.

Cripes, this Klog is going on too long already.

I made a rookie mistake. I never actually titled the story. The Klog name wasn’t going to work. So I had one weekend to come up with a title. In essence, it seems so easy, right? Just a few words, and you’re good to go.

Well, if it was that easy, would I be Klogging about it? Turns out it’s pretty damn difficult. Title is all important. If you have a good, appealing, original title, more people are apt to read it. Have a bland, boring, mundane title, and most people think it reads like a WEA new release book (ZING! But only my old work friends would get that one.) Cripes, this is tough. It seems far too easy to use some pap like “Summers of my Youth” or some such. I wanted to somehow work Wildwood in there as well. Because, surely, no one uses that in a Wildwood paper.

I feel the same torment parents must feel when naming their kids. This is my first published piece, is there some sort of bad karma if I give it a dud title? Will I forever rue the day I named it “Kev’s Totally Awesome Scenes of Neon Summers”? Maybe I shouldn’t stay away from the Summer Teeth pun? Man, all the hard work is done, I just gotta slap a title on the thing. I even try to do the cool singer/songwriter move. I go over the piece again, just looking for any random string of words that just might be a good title. No such luck, and who the hell wrote this drivel?

I spend many hours staring at the PC and the ceiling, trying to come up with that magic collection of words that will pop. I didn’t want anything too cutesy. I am always against alliteration. (Please tell me you got that joke.) No sense in rhyming anything. A witty turn of phrase would be nice, but I can’t come up with any to fit the bill. I know the clock is ticking.

Not that I fancy myself a word nerd or anything. But I do have certain words I like. One of those words suddenly pops up; no it’s not “motard”. That’s it! That will work! I think the word really pops. My only fear is that people don’t readily know what it means. I don’t want to be getting “writerly” all over their ass. It works and is original and I think at the very least will draw people in just to see WTF it means. I am happy, and really that’s all that matters. I wonder if every great writer or artist goes through this process every time. Not that much of my stuff will be published (outside of the music reviews), but I just don’t see an audience for a Klog like “Mandy Moore Watches Me Pee”. And that is really a travesty.

By now you are surely screaming, “What’s the damn title?” I can’t tell you. I can’t tell you because it gives me all the power. That’s just how insecure I am. No, really, I am afraid some bad karma will strike, or the very least someone could Google it, and end up here. Yea, I don’t think most of these Klogs would fit well with that crowd. I am just that damn good of a writer, I can write for many audiences. And I know that audience probably wouldn’t enjoy a Klog like “F the PH”. Call me Kreskin.

So look for this to be a series of posts, as I have plenty more neuroses to cover about my future award winning article.

iSland

I know we live in a modern age. It seems everyone just can’t survive without some technological doo dad that supposedly makes life easier and far more worth living. Kind of ironic that I get to this Klog days after the announcement of the iPad. We live in the age of i-everything; iPods, iPhones, iPads, etc. Recently, I have discovered a new i to add to the list. I proudly announce to you the Kevolution Theory iSland.

For the last 9 days, we have been disconnected. Seems this here PC caught a virus that surprisingly wasn’t from any number of questionable sites I frequent. I discovered this last Monday morning, and spent most of the day trying to track down the offending virus. This also entailed running a scan that goes on for hours. Being a guy and all, I seem to think this is something I should easily be able to fix. Turns out I was wrong. I thought the scan caught and corrected the offending bug, but I was wrong. I apparently did the cyber equivalent of poking it with a stick and insulting its parentage. Because after yet another reboot, there was even more shit missing. Damn. I try to fix it but clearly, I am beat.

Fortunately, I know a ‘computer guy’ who can unfuck our PC, it will just take him a week or so to do it. That’s a fair trade over those jackals at Geek Squad. Although I can’t decide if I feel better or worse actually knowing the person who will be nosing around my PC. I drop the PC off, and, we are thrust onto the iSland. We will have no real connection to the outside world for days. Someone really should invent some device you can just talk to somebody on. That would come in handy.

I can hear the nerds of you out there asking, “Well, why can’t you just go online from your phone? And why am I talking to myself?” The answer is that I am in the minority that doesn’t own an iPhone. I have learned that simply rubber banding my phone to my iPod does not grant it iPod like powers.

The first few days are actually not bad, kind of enjoyable. Sure, there are key times when we miss the easy access to info that we need; what the weather is going to be like, how do I get this poison out of my system, etc. Actually, we do other things. Things like talking. I know, I know, a man and his wife talking, sounds funny, right? And we eat together, too. We actually cook the meals. Fuck, it’s like we’re the Waltons.

I actually did something I’ve never, ever done. I read an entire book-a real book, too, not one with pictures, mazes or the usual Choose Your Own Adventure books that always finds me slayed at the hands of the dragon-200 or so pages in less than a day. OK, so insomnia was a big part of that, but it still counts. I highly recommend From Baghdad With Love.

Of course, I come up with a hundred good ideas for Klogs that will surely lead me to fame and fortune. Alas, most of those have been lost to the sands of time and massive amounts of cheap hooch. I learn that all the usual sites I go to for a laugh will still be there. Yes, people will still dress strangely at Walmart, and there will be another dozen funny dog videos, but ya know what? They’ll all still be there.

I go for a few days before feeling the need to check my email. I finally go to my parents to check. As I try to open attachments, I realize I can’t because my parents are still running Windows 63. So now I will have to go across town to my sister’s to look at attachments. OK, now this is getting to be a hassle. I manage to resist opening “those” emails from a few guys who always send me stuff that makes me smile.

You know what else I discover? I have a fucking life outside of Facebook. OK, barely a life outside of FB, but I really don’t miss it. I don’t miss the typical “nothing is new” or “what I did today” updates. Really, unless you figured out how to slay that dragon, no one fucking cares. I don’t miss the near constant updates asking ME to change MY status; even for just an hour. How about……no. Maybe it’s fun to be in some coterie (look it up) that loves posting cryptic updates. I think we were all enthralled with the girls posting their underwear color. Or how they are wearing their hair. Really fascinating stuff. I don’t miss the requests to change my status to have friends post shit about me. You know the ones; where you met me, how would you describe me, blah blah blah. One thing I have learned is that apparently no one cares about me to ask why I haven’t updated in 10 damn days. And I refuse to change my status to highlight some cause, ‘even if just for an hour’. News flash; nothing ever changes. You might as well be signing your name to any number of petition emails going around. “What’s that? 4000 nerds all signed an email about ? Well, shit, boys, let’s get on this.”

On a somewhat related note, I also don’t miss the alarmist and often untrue emails I get from certain people. You know the emails about Target hating the Veterans, etc. I mean, check Snopes before sending untrue shit out. I used to send them the link in private, but if they insist in continually sending those damn emails, I am going to CC everyone on the email. And, GD if Fred Hadayia didn’t email me again.

I got used to living Amish. I really didn’t miss the Net as much as I thought I would. It gave me more time to read, hang out with the dog, etc. Now that I have it back, it’s a rush to catch up and do a few more things to clean it and improve the speed. And catching up on Walmart pictures and dogs doing cute stuff.

I rather enjoyed my time on the iSland. You should go sometime.