Grand Slam Communication
The grown but not mature son told me that his friend will be passing through town.
Could I put him up in my spare room?
I said of course.
The grown son asked if I could make a special dinner.
I said of course.
Lasagna?
I said of course.
But, I told him, I’ll need you to go to the store for some things.
The grown son rolled his eyes and huffed in annoyance.
Proving that he is grown, but not mature.
Not yet anyway.
I had three students and a slacker interpreter in my English class.
One of the students was really struggling to understand.
Usually the interpreter will jump right in to help.
This interpreter did nothing.
I asked her to please help the student.
She said, in perfect English, that she couldn’t help him.
Because she didn’t understand.
What?!?!
The students said something to each other, and they all laughed.
I don’t need an interpreter to know that they said, “slacker.”
Who proofreads this stuff?
I read the following headline:
“Homicide Suspect Arrested from the Sheriff’s Department.”
This implies that the suspect worked in the Sheriff’s Department.
Which was not the case at all.
The suspect was arrested BY the Sheriff’s Department, not FROM the Sheriff’s Department.
That’s a whole different kind of news story.
And a bit of a disappointing read.
Who proofreads this stuff?
Left turns in Texas drive me crazy.
I have lived in this state for a year now.
And there’s one thing that I just don’t understand.
Maybe someone can explain it to me.
In the left turn lane, with a flashing yellow arrow,
WHY doesn’t the car move ahead into the intersection?
The car always stays behind the limit line.
From that point, there is often no opportunity to make the left turn.
It can take two or three cycles for even one car to move ahead.
Why don’t they pull up?
Is it a law?
Texans are otherwise very aggressive drivers.
Why are they so weak on left turns?
I’m not sure if it’s a law to stay behind the limit line, or if Texans are just weirdly polite about it.
I silently seethe.
And wait my turn.
To make left turns in Texas.
A huge problem that I see in the scripts that I cover is that the protagonist lacks focus.
The main character is going in too many directions.
He wants love.
He wants to win.
He wants revenge.
He wants to go home.
He wants to reconcile.
He wants redemption.
I advise writers to focus their protagonist.
Give him one single desire that drives him through the entire plot.
Are there exceptions to this rule?
Of course there are.
But an aspiring writer should master the basics first.
Yes, I know, I used “he” instead of “he/she.”
But I’m thinking of a specific script in which the protagonist was male.
I gave the writer suggestions about refining the main character.
I can’t wait to read the revisions.
It will be a much huge problem when the protagonist is focused.
I need to work on my revenge game.
Bob had to get up very, very, very early this morning.
His alarm woke me up.
Fair enough.
I went back to sleep.
However, he left his phone on the nightstand.
In snooze mode.
Nine minutes later, when I barreled furiously into the kitchen, he said cheerily, “what are YOU doing up so early?”
I don’t usually curse.
I made an exception this morning.
However, something went wrong in the execution.
Bob just laughed.
Lacking a Plan B at last-night-o’clock in the morning, I murderously stared him down, and methodically turned on every light in the house.
Just to annoy him.
Again, he laughed.
He turned off all of the lights and apologized for the snooze thing.
I’m going to have to work on my revenge game.
I’m getting weak.
I recently cornered a huge Texas fly in my bathroom.
I shut the all doors and started swatting at it with a towel.
I knew I couldn’t actually hit it – it was way too fast for me.
My intention was to keep it flying frantically around the room.
I planned to kill it with exhaustion.
It was so big that it made a distinct “thunk” noise every time it hit a wall.
Which was often.
I kept thinking, “Well that’s gotta hurt…”
But the fly just kept on flying, oblivious to any traumatic brain injury.
This bug had a very strong will to live.
Its will to live was stronger than my will to kill it.
I got bored.
I quit.
Huge Texas Fly 1, Human 0.
I swear, it was for research.
I’m a script reader.
I read book and movie manuscripts,
and I write a technical analysis.
Sometimes I have no idea what the writer is talking about.
I have to research the topic.
If I ever got hacked and someone saw my recent Google searches,
all I can say is,
“It was for RESEARCH!”
Seriously.
I was speaking with a friend the other day, a friend whose name is Liar.
He told me that he had been to the County Fair.
He had eaten an objectionable type of drumstick.
And some corn dipped in an equally horrifying type of butter.
I didn’t believe a word he said.
This guy is known to be a teller of tall tales.
I’m 99% certain it was all lies.
But what if it was the truth?
Do they really sell these disturbing kinds of foods?
It’s the fair, after all, and anything is possible.
I guess I’ll have to take myself to the Texas State Fair when it opens.
I’ll have to see for myself what kind of horrifying offerings are on the Fair Food Circuit.
And then I will say to my friend, a la Will Ferrell,
“Your name is Liar…”
I visited the art museum the other day.
There is a Monet exhibit that I wanted to see.
Bob refused to come with me.
Apparently I have tried his last nerve.
He’s done being dragged to cultural events.
Big sigh…
I pointed out that if I was his date rather than his wife, he would eagerly accompany me to the museum.
He laughed and laughed and laughed.
This, I informed him, is why boyfriends are better than husbands.
It is also why sisters are better than husbands.
However, I don’t have any sisters nearby.
I took myself to the art museum alone.
And I had a surprisingly wonderful time.
No one bugged me.
No one urged me to hurry up.
No one complained that they were hungry.
I could take as long as I wanted.
But don’t tell Bob that I enjoyed myself.
He feels kind of bad that he ditched me.
I’m gonna milk it.