Le Tour de Chance

Funny title, huh?

Bet you'll never guess what I'm doing as I write this.... :^)

So, why "Le Tour de Chance"?

I've been away from the blogs for a bit (again) and have so many topics I'd love to cover. I'm actually writing this post right in the "new post box" -- not my word processor. See, even I don't know which topic I'm actually going to end up writing about.... So, there's your "chance".

Possible Contendors

I have been toying with writing about the reaction I had to being censored on the Men with Pens blog. Aaach, there's something wrong with their computer. It keeps scrolling "lead, chase, peloton", but not telling me how many seconds separate them. Don't they know that I have to know? There are only 8 k's left! Sorry. I'll try to stay on topic from this point forward. Don't worry -- no spoilers.

...and now back to your regularly scheduled broadcast

I'm back. You probably didn't notice, but I had to stop writing and focus on my TV. Folks needed me to clap and cheer them on, and I kind of needed my hands for that. They've got enough people covering the podiums that they won't miss me, though, so I'll continue typing now. Oh, and before I slander James -- at the risk of killing my punch-line, he didn't really delete my comment. I'll tell the whole tale another time.

Subscribe to frakin' comments

Another story I've been itching to tell involves the blood, sweat, and bleary eyes somebody forced me to put into my blog. I don't think I'll be posting that one too soon, though. If all my posts end up being about James, people might get the wrong idea.

Time management

Part of the reason I've been away from the blog is that I've been trying to re-work my schedule and develop better habits. Yes, I'm attempting better time management. I've got a couple of posts on that -- one I even started putting on "paper" entitled, "Beware the Middle Flame". I can almost safely post that one without raising eyebrows because James isn't in it at all (and I can avoid mentioning Harry).

Before I continue, I should add some explanation for readers who may not be aware. Men with Pens is a blog by two guys -- James and Harry. It's a cool blog. You should check it out.

In my search for efficiency, I attended a webinar about "Information Overload", presented by Shally Steckerl. Shally mentioned one tool that he thinks is great for helping to find out where your time goes, so I went to the web site to check it out. Who do you suppose I found on the front page? ... James. I downloaded "Rescue Time" anyway, and am giving it a try -- because it's been recommended by a few trusted sources, not because James told me to.

"All Hail Hincappie"

That's the title of another post I've written in my head. I'm trying to decide what to do with it, though. It actually has meaning. Posts on this blog are supposed to have NO value added (I kept your caps, Steph.) . Posting something that has value might disrupt the time-space continuum...or at least water down the alcohol. Either one of those events could be bad -- very bad.

So you see my dilemma...

Men with Pens and it's authors seem to be mentioned quite a bit in this post. I didn't plan it that way -- I didn't plan this post at all, remember? They seem to factor pretty heavily (in some way) into most of the topic ideas I have right now. So, what do I do?

I like the Blog that must not be named (again). I actually read several blogs regularly -- when I'm reading blogs regularly. I actually paused in the process of sharpening my nose (read lifted my nose from the grindstone, which I could have said originally, but chose not to for no reason whatsoever) to read and comment on Rogue Ink the other day... and I just suffered a brain cramp and don't remember why I said that.

At any rate, those guys -- Btmnbn(a) -- are popular. The posts that caught my eye and inspired me were written long before I ever started reading their blog. They have people following them. They are not following me...but everywhere I think, there they are.

I am not a cyber-stalker

...at least not on purpose, anyway. Nor do I have some sinister plan to lure Btmnbn(a) to my humble blog by mentioning their names repeatedly -- no matter what it looks like. I mean, Link Love is one thing, but there's probably such a thing as too much love.

The other ideas I've got right now aren't my first choices. Does anybody really care why I called my son Boy when he was little? No, not that "Boy" -- this one's mine and I love him (and he knows it) -- I just got the story idea from the name. Anybody want to read a post on housework, or my favorite shows on SciFi? Should I scramble for other ideas? Write the posts without mentioning Btmnbn(a)? Continue using a stupid acronym until I get ideas that don't include them?

What would you do?

Crossing the finish line

So ends this stage of "Le Tour de Chance". Funny, the podium positions are being shared by "A Ramble About Possible Blog Topics", "James", and "When Other Bloggers Show Up in Your Post". Oh well, no clapping and cheering on this one -- the real stage ended much, much better. Maybe I should consider having my own cheering section. I think it was an episode of Designing Women that had a character create a special "music" box. When the lid was lifted, the box played a clapping, cheering crowd for the listener. Bet I could create an mp3....

A Sloggy, Bloggy Tale

Boy sat on the sawdust-covered floor of his workshop, feverishly racing the clock to complete his invention. Of course, Boy didn’t really have a workshop, only a corner of The Mom’s shed that he’d managed to claim as his own…for now. He didn’t have a real deadline either, or anyone to care about what he did with his time. No, Boy developed his ideas and imposed time limits on himself. Someday, I’ll be important and I’ll have an important job. People will depend on me…and they won’t call me ‘Boy’.”

Those were the thoughts that drove Boy. The Mom who called him ‘Boy’ didn’t care about his thoughts, his projects, or his name. She was just The Mom that Boy had been forced to accept when he was little. The Mom had been forced to accept Boy, too and she hadn’t been happy about it. Boy still remembered the terror he’d felt when The Mom had approached him that first day. She’d glared at him and barked, “When I say ‘Boy’, I mean you. Got it?” At his small nod The Mom had walked away and seemingly dismissed him.

Boy didn’t really remember what had happened to his other mom, the one who’d given him his real name. He didn’t think about that much any more. Boy had two clear memories from those early days. He remembered the day he’d been named ‘Boy’, and, although years passed before he heard it again, he remembered his real name.

Boy rose from the floor triumphantly, dusting off the seat of his pants as he stood. He realized too late that he had just transferred rogue ink from his hands to his pants. The Mom would have something to say about that, but Boy didn’t care right now. He’d completed his invention – his jobmachine. It was beautiful; it was his; and there was nothing else like it in the world.

Boy knew what to do now. He’d once made friends with a neighbor who invented things. Chris Brogan had been one of the few people in Boy’s life who knew Boy’s real name and used it. Boy had been sad when the inventor’s work had taken him elsewhere, but he’d left Boy a legacy – people to contact when he’d completed an invention. Boy ran the short distance to their home, eager to ask those inventors to come and take a look at his work. The men, recognizing Boy’s agitated state, didn’t make him wait, but went right over to inspect his invention.

Boy brought them to his workshop and waited outside the shed for their verdict. He watched from his vantage point just outside the door as the men with pens circled and prodded his invention, making notes on their clipboards as they went. The anticipation was killing him. In a surfeit of passion, Boy let out a “Whoop!” that was sure to bring unwanted attention.

As expected, The Mom came up behind him, already yelling. “What was that racket? What are you doing out here…and what’s that on the back of your pants?” The men approached hesitantly, having completed their inspection. “You should be very proud of this young man,” one of the men told The Mom as he placed a reassuring hand on Boy’s shoulder. “That’s quite an invention he’s got there.”

“In fact,” the other man said, “we just recently read a white paper about a similar design in The Daily Blog Tips. You, my friend,” he remarked to Boy, “think like an inventor with many years of experience and education. We’ll be happy to help you refine your prototype.”

The men shook Boy’s hand and left him and The Mom standing in front of the shed. He was still slightly giddy with excitement and barely registered the fact that they’d shaken his hand like equals. “Did…did you hear what they said?” he finally managed, turning to the Mom.

“I heard them,” she sniffed disdainfully. “They said that you didn’t come up with an original idea. You’re not a real inventor; you’re just a…copyblogger.” The Mom turned and walked away, dismissing Boy once more.

Tears welled up in Boy’s eyes, but he determinedly dashed them away with his fists and headed back to his workshop. Someday I’ll be important and I’ll have an important job. People will depend on me…and they won’t call me ‘Boy’.

If you're still reading this post, please note that I got the idea for this kind of link love from Harry's "Dark and Bloggy Night", that came from Carolyn's "Once Upon a Bloggy Night" meme (logo courtesy of Carolyn), via Ettarose's "Tuesday Link Love Story". My apologies to all concerned for whatever is lacking in my tale, and my congratulations for coming up with and propagating such a fun idea.