Written by Karen Reed of Positive Health Wellness We hear all the time about how video games are making our children ill. They’re unhealthy and things to be avoided. We need to limit our time playing them to a bare minimum. While there are some negatives to playing video games—there’s …
I know what you’re thinking: “There are too many personal rants and things on this blog! Where’s the news and such?” Right? Well, just in case you didn’t know, this blog is still my little baby and I’ll keep watering it as long as I can. That being said, you …
I wish I was a crow, so I could see the the sky disappear onto rooftops, where I’d alight, not knowing whether I perched upon a weather mane or a stove pipe.
It’s the kind of day where, walking, you suddenly find your feet straddling the curb of a street where the sidewalk once was. Everything buried in a 12-inch quilt of white.
Looking down, eyes sparkle with rainbow-strewn dots flitting in and out of comprehension’s way. What is color?
The few people out and about are sweating in their winter fluff, rediscovering the true shape of their girlfriends’ cars while the women stand there, dutifully watching.
It’s hard to breathe. The air 50/50 mixed with engines giggling methane, left idling by whilst masters keep toasty inside. The biting cold freezing dripping snot runs that you can’t feel until lungs feel fit to combust.
No one should be working today. Why try and drive someplace? This winter Sunday is best enjoyed with screwdriver in hand, staring out the window at the splendor of nature’s destruction.
I’m going to marry one Keith Bohnen and soon my last name will translate as “beans” in German. I don’t think my maiden name has any direct translation, aside from the fact that it has ties to Jewish heritage (I’m pretty sure my great grandpa Snyder was a Jewish refugee who wiled his way into the ranks of the US Army).
This is the main thing on my brain, lately. Not because I regret anything. I do have regrets in life (like, not rescuing my dad’s Heat jacket–which was originally his dad’s–from this storage facility when I intuited that it would be lost forever along with all of my other belongings, at 14) but I really want this.
We’ve only known each other a year and it seems that we’ve been connected for all eternity, somehow. And maybe this is a whimsical 14-year-old dream of mine, but I’m living it, so there’s that.
You can’t deny your fate, especially when it’s slapping you in the face.
I told my friend Rachel the other day that I had found a glowing crystal in the dust and decided it was mine, so I picked it up and put it in my pocket. That’s Keith. He is that crystal. And I’ve dusted him off, put him on a shelf, to remind me every day that there is beauty in this world. And he’s stayed with me. We’ve learned so much about each other, the thought of separation seems impossible.
Where have you been my whole life, dear? Up here, shivering in the cold, while I melted away part of my soul down south, ripening for a taste of you.
It’s really all I can think about. Collision is imminent. And my mom couldn’t be happier. That’s a plus. I’ve lost a cousin due to my insatiable love, but you really can’t help the feelings of others.
You have to look out for number one, right? Number two and number one.
So, here we go. Sept. 24 is the date. And while people are dying, others are having babies, some are creating art by pricking their thumbs and smearing their life’s blood all over the walls, and I’m getting married. It’s a big step. And I feel I’m a little late to the game, but there is no other way. This is the path I’ve chosen. Keith is the one.
And here are a couple of photos of our rings, carved from Alan Lightman’s “Einstein’s Dreams”, courtesy of the artist himself, Jeremy May of Little Fly.
The Great American Trucking Show is all bright lights and goosebumps in the beginning. When you first walk through the glimmering hallways of the Kay Bailey Convention Center, you notice the Dallas skyline through the floor-to-ceiling windows to your right, and on the left, photos of past plays hang on the wall, highlighting the history of the building.
Then, there’s the escalators–which I totally forgot I was afraid of, seeing as how I don’t encounter them too much on my way to and from the Bloomington office. Nelson helped. He offered to stand a step below me on the way down, just in case I fell face first onto the scary-looking steel traps which would invariably diverge and lash out to grab hold of my shoelaces, rendering me pulverized meat in a slow agonizing death.
However, I have survived the escalators and I am A-OK, in case you were wondering.
Aside from the sweetly warm heat of downtown Dallas, I’d expect the slightly stormy weather near the closing of the show to envelop me in a sticky embrace, much like I’m used to in Florida, but, the environment is quite arid, to my liking, and once you roll down your shirt sleeves, you can find yourself quite comfortable in the frigid indoor area of the trade show itself.
The people are nice, here in Texas. Nicer than I thought. Most people go out of their way to offer up a nod and smile at any passersby, and when they decide to stop by your booth, they take their time looking through the marketing department’s carefully designed literature before scrunching up their eyebrows, hitching their glasses back in place on the bridge of their noses, and asking you questions.
I found that letting them ask the questions, instead of launching into a spiel right away helps. In one case, a lady with two guys in tow, asked, “Howdy. What’s your spiel?” Since I overheard her talking to her compadres about getting wifi for their truck, I simply said, “Oh, we don’t have wifi. This is satellite TV.” And she raised her arms, “See?” She had won the battle that day, preventing further confusion among her friends. I let her walk away.
But! A huge percentage of the people we talked to seemed generally interested in the product, and we even managed to sell a dozen or so, so the trip was well worth it, in my humble opinion.
I also had a chance to walk around the quaint little tourist town of Grapevine, TX one night after the show. I took a ton of photos of strange cactus (I was informed that the word’s both singular AND plural, there) and if you look carefully in one of the photos, you can see a mannequin of a man standing guard way high up in one of the bell towers, next to that Cotton Patch cafe with the unicorn mascot pointing the way toward justice for all foods fit for southern stomachs.
Long story, short. GATS was great. I met a TON of cool people and I learned a lot from Nelson, not only about Dealey Plaza, Lee Harvey Oswald, the World Trade Center, and various architectural marvels employing sound engineering in the form of bridge construction, but I learned about the relationship dealers have with customers and customers have with sales people, face-to-face. I also learned that there’s a difference between local truckers and long-haul truckers. HUGE difference—as far as selling our product goes. Oh, and it’s quite possible the first long-haul truck was made in 1939. Go figure!
The Great American Trucking Show was an eye-opener, to say the least, and I’m glad I had the chance to participate. Now, let’s see what happens at MATS next year, in March.
To be published in next month’s staff newsletter for KING…
Dept.H is a new series by husband and wife team Matt and Sharelene Kindt. Matt writes the story and draws the art, then Sharlene brings the panels to life with her amazing watercolor impressions of the scene. The visuals are reminiscent of Jeff Lemire of Sweet Tooth’s sketches, yet the colors are …
Hello, and welcome back! You might not have noticed, but I haven’t written for the blog in the last two weeks. Maybe this isn’t so preposterous, as during college or some of my lower points, I would go a couple of months without blogging, but the last two years I’ve been pretty adamant about posting at least once or twice a week, so somewhere in the back of my mind I get a little peeved about the fact that I haven’t been writing little news stories for you, for the last 15 days.
So! This is the halfway point during my speech where I inform you that I’ve made a proclamation to focus my attention on Camp NaNoWriMo, whereby my writing attentions are solely directed toward fiction. I made a Facebook post publicizing the fact, but just in case you’ve been refreshing this page every other day, looking for new content, and you’ve been sorely disappointed, now you know why!
There you have it. Congratulations to all participating in the month-long marathon that is NaNoWriMo. Starting Aug. 1, you can expect to see a flurry of new blog posts (I have, like, five potentials up my sleeve).
If you live in Minnesota, you might have noticed simple signs touting, “Now Hiring”, all over the Twin Cities. The economy is booming up here in the Midwest. Whether you’re looking for summer work or something more full-time, look no further than the nearest cross-street.
They’re always looking for drivers to haul our general merchandise around. When you’re stuck in traffic on the way home tomorrow, jot down the number on the back of the semi in front of you. Having a CDL is required, but some companies pay for training.
Minnesota is known for its prowess in the realm of steel, flour, and all the essentials that serve as the backbone for modern society. If you’re hardworking and you’ve got some cojones, put your car in park and call the number on the sign sticking out of the grass in that cul-de-sac you so love to traverse through day-in, day-out. You may soon have the privilege of getting a workout while you’re at work. (KING is also hiring. Visit kingconnect.com for details.)
One of the largest companies in the U.S. also happens to have one of the largest turn-over rates for employees. Feeling a little like Chris McCandless and want to give your butt a break after all that hitchhiking you’ve been doing this summer? Pop into your nearest McDonald’s and fill out an application. You’re likely to get yourself a job there, no questions asked. Plus! You’re significant other will just adore you when you come home smelling like greasy French fries. Yum.
World of Beer
They’re opening up a new location in Downtown St. Paul, and they’re looking for happy, smiling faces to corral patrons to the trough. Of course, you’d probably rather work at Bedlam, right around the corner and listen to live music while you work, but this will do in a pinch.
And there are plenty of other places that are hiring in Minnesota.
So, if you’re looking for a job in a state where foreclosed houses loom like old ghosts and abandoned shopping malls spell dread for even the most accidental tourist, move to Minnesota*.
Forego those laborious internet applications, where you have to type your skill set in quixotic fields over and over to the point where you’ve already stultified yourself long before you’ve even received the automatic reply email. Just walk right up to some shady place with the “Now Hiring” sign clinging to the window. Make a little buckage, and move onto better pastures.
Now, you’re living in the 90s and beating the system. How neat is that?
*I am not being paid by the Minnesota government to recruit out-of-towners, I just like this state. All of the above statements are true.