Tag Archives: Question of the Day

QOTD- “What Did You Say Your Name Was?”

by Doran Simmons

awesome-rad

Ken Tremendous.

Just saying it is awesome. A name like that can propel a man to greatness.

Remington Castle. Alexandro Bloodharvest.

I’ve been thinking a lot about names lately. Names say a lot about us, and yet we have little to no control over them. Every day children are born with names waiting for them. They become Michaels or Jennys or Norbits without any regard to their individuality.

Yet the reverse seems scarier still. Think about what the world would be like if people chose their own names. It would be pandemonium. Everybody would want a cool name. No one is going to choose to be called Irving when they could go by something cool like Gunter or Rodrigo. Or even Pandemonium. That would be an awesome name. The point is, most people can barely be trusted to name their boat. There’s no way we, as a society, could allow people the right to pick their own names. It would be irresponsible.

Todd Irresponsible.

It all started this morning when I read that TV producer Michael Shur wrote a sports blog under the pseudonym Ken Tremendous that I started to seriously think about the name I would have given myself. As writers we spend more time than most thinking about names and titles. We give titles to our works and names to our characters, always aware of the power these labels have.

Our very own J. Gabriel Allan wrote a piece a while back about the power of names and the way they influence our perception of others. My question is a little different.

I want to know what you would call yourself if you wrote your life. What you name yourself if you were your own boat?

Me, I can’t decide. It’s a toss up between Billy Knightblade and Special Agent Don Shark.

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Question Of The Day: Where’d All The Time Go?

by Doran Simmons

billym

There was something I was supposed to do today.

I can’t remember exactly what it was, but I know I didn’t do it.

I suffer from a problem that I suspect is widespread. The problem is with my concept of time. Before I go to bed at night, the next twenty four hours seems like a vast expanse before me. When I think about the possibilities of all the things I might get done the next day I see nothing but potential. Tomorrow is the day I actually do all things I’ve been thinking about doing for so long. Then the morning comes. I open my eyes with sleepy good intention, but the clock seems to move impossibly fast. When I sat down, I only meant to watch one episode of Cold Case Files while I drank my coffee. Now it’s almost noon and I’ve moved on to The First 48. Potential wasted, I embrace the ruined day and go to the record store.

Hello. My name is Doran and I’m a procrastinator.

There, I said it. I’m a procrastinator. Which is not, as I first thought, a person who gets paid to play with themselves.*

I never do today what I can put off until tomorrow, and it is the absolute worst trait a writer can have.

I once saw a documentary about Charles Bukowski. He was sitting on a dirty couch in what I assume was his home, snarling at the camera and drinking wine. I can’t remember what the interviewer asked him, but he got an angry look on his face and pointed at his typewriter. “A writer has to put his time in here!” or something like that. He shouted at the camera and picked up the machine before slamming it back down on the table. “If he doesn’t he has to call himself something else.”

I know those weren’t his exact words, but the words weren’t what stuck with me. It was the bald hatred in his eyes when he looked at his weapon of choice, the typewriter. At least in that moment, he hated this whole writing thing. But he had to do it. And no matter what state he was in or what excuses he had not to, he made himself write. That’s what I need to remember.

The question I ask now, to myself and to all of you, is what will you wish you had done today? When you wind down for the day and get ready for bed, what will you be glad you did?

*JOKES!

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QOTD – How Do You Feel About Poetry?

by J. Gabriel Allan

poetry-sm

In its inception, the poetry question was simple: is poetry relevant in the 21st century.

Through our meandering exploration of the written word it has become more… or less, depending on your perception.

Recently, Chris started a segment called “How does so-and-so feel about poetry?” in which he asks celebrities the question via twitter and posts their 140. The responses have been beautiful, fun, funny, creative, insightful and wonderful- especially the words from Jon Favreau (the speechwriter, not the Swinger).

I feel that poetry is everywhere; everything is poetry. Life is poetic if you allow it to be. The world is poetic if you look for it. Seek and ye shall find.

The way you speak, the words you say, the way you move is your poetry.

I not only feel poetry is the most important thing we do, I contend it is all we do.

QOTD – How Do You Feel About Poetry?

QOTD – October 10 – The Musical Roller Coaster

by Christopher Margolin

I spend too much time thinking about musical “Top 5″ lists.

Top 5 jazz artists before 1960: Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Eric Dolphy, Thelonius Monk, Art Blakley

Top 5 contemporary pop artists under 21 who will have careers lasting longer than 10 years: Miley Cyrus, Justin Bieber, Lordes, Jayden Smith, Earl Sweatshirt

Top 5 under-appreciated singer / songwriters with a dark, romantic twist: David Ramirez, Matthew Mayfield, Gregory Alan Isakov, Denison Witmer, William Fitzsimmons

Top 5 artists to listen to while coping with writers block: Miles Davis, Bon Iver, Elliott Smith, Drake, DJ Quick

Poetry and music – even music without lyrics – are so closely tied, that I don’t question whether or not this QOTD works.

QUESTION OF THE DAY:

What are your Top 5 most powerful morning anthems?

QOTD- Reading Phases?

by Doran Simmons

 

1993_jurassic_park_wallpaper_001

 

When I was about twelve years old it suddenly became very important to me that I read every book written by one Michael Crichton. It started with Jurassic Park, which I read at the public pool while I waited for my little sister to finish with her swimming lessons. I was in love with that book. I found myself fascinated by the science, reading about the magic of DNA with the smell of chlorine in my nostrils and the echoes of that bounced off the concrete walls and high ceilings of the aquatic center in my ears.

My enthusiasm for his work did begin to wane a year or two later, somewhere between Sphere and The Andromeda Strain, but not before it set a pattern for the rest of my reading life. Soon after that I read Jaws, and began my Peter Benchley phase. Three or four books about sea monsters and noble fishermen later, and it was on to Stephen King.

I don’t know if this is a universal experience among readers, or just among those who, like myself, spent their formative years watching movies and letting those movies direct their thoughts while perusing the library. I was always afraid of wasting time on a book I didn’t like. So, if a movie looked cool, I figured I’d like the book. Then, if I liked that book, I figured I’d like the other books by that author. Plus, I’m a completionist. If I find myself really appreciating an artist’s work I will go out of my way to possess all of it, just so I can say I do. It’s the same reason I own several Rolling Stones albums that I actively can’t stand.

For the record, my taste did improve. But my habits didn’t. I moved on from Benchley and Crichton to Vonnegut and Bukowski, but I still had that sometimes infuriating urge to track down all the books and slog through them whether I liked them or not.

So, I guess my question is…

Am I weird? Does anybody else cross reference events in their lives with the author they were reading at the time?

Do you go through reading phases?

 

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QOTD – Could You Do a Better Job?

by J. Gabriel Allan

Anyone who’s listened to anyone speak about anyone who’s in the public eye has undoubtedly heard what a moron so-and-so is and what a horrible job those clowns are doing.

In fact, it is amazing what a great job all of us would do at the job we don’t do.

For example, I have met very few people who would not do a better job than the idiots in Washington, even though these self-proclaimed Senators have never even read the Cliff’s Notes Constitution let alone the living document.

Very few sports fans would not make better decisions than their favorite team’s coach or GM.

I am a teacher and every single one of you knows how to do my job better than I do. I mean, you went to school so you know exactly what I do.

But let’s be honest for a minute. Could you do a better job?

I couldn’t. Not at politics. So much of the political game is not about content knowledge but about gamesmanship, I couldn’t do it. Not because I am too honest or anything noble like that, but because I’m just not great at the art of the handshake deal. When I worked at Blockbuster video I was a horrible up-seller. I, instead, would help you get what you wanted instead of what I wanted. I didn’t want to be rude. Or pushy.

I, most definitely, could not coach any professional or collegiate sports. I can watch the hell out of them, and would be a pretty good play-by-play guy, but coaching… no.

There are some bad actors on TV, but I am not convinced I would perform that much better on camera.

I would, however, be an awesome guest on Whose Line is it Anyway?

So, let’s be honest- other than your job, what could you do better than the idiot who is currently failing?(
~or, if you didn’t do what you did, what would you do?~

QOTD – October 7 – NPR vs Sports

by Christopher Margolin

sportstalk

I pulled up to work this morning, parked my car in my usual parking space, turned off the ignition, and listened to the radio for just a few more minutes to catch the rest of the story. Two other teachers were seemingly doing the same thing. At 6:50, the radio moved to a commercial break, and we all turned off our cars, and stepped out into the parking lot. I was greeted by another teacher who asked, “Were we all listening to the same NPR story?”.

Nope. I was listening to sports talk radio. Dan Patrick was talking to Tony Dungy about Josh Freeman signing a one-year deal with the Vikings. That, frankly, is much more important to me than anything NPR might have to offer this morning. I am a Vikings fan, and I’m pretty upset by how terrible their quarterback situation has been since Brett Favre decided he was done – after he had decided he was done the year before, and the year before that.

When I told my co-worker what I was listening to, he gave me a very questioning look. Now, he’s not a big fan of sports, but all the same, he was curious why I wasn’t listening to the news. With the exception of a few episodes of Car Talk, or Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me, I don’t think I’ve ever turned on NPR to listen to the news. I know, blasphemy! It’s not that I don’t have an interest in what’s going on in the world – actually, it’s completely the opposite. I’m a political junkie, but I prefer to read my news, rather than listen to news talk radio. I want to be able to analyze what’s going on, rather than have someone else opine about the current government shutdown, or the situation in Syria.

All I really want to listen to is whether or not Tony Dungy believes Josh Freeman is the answer at QB for the Vikings. He doesn’t. I respect Tony Dungy’s commentary because he was a coach for 28 years, and he has the expertise to tell me if my favorite team is going to suck for the rest of the year. They will. It’s true.

I don’t think that just because I’m a high school teacher, that I need to listen to NPR in the morning, or ever for that matter. I have my own opinions about what’s going on in the country, and if I need more information, I have newspapers, BBC Online, and a myriad of other sources. So, no, I wasn’t listening to that NPR story. I was listening to sports.

Question of the Day:

Be honest, what is more important in your world: NPR or Sports?

QOTD- “What’s the QOTD?” “It’s the question of the day.” “Hmmm. That sounds good. I think I’ll have that.”

by Doran Simmons

Dumb-and-Dumber

That’s a Dumb and Dumber reference in the title there. You see that? That counts as proof that this is one of my favorite movies of all time. It’s one of the few movies that I loved as a kid that still stands up today. It is because of this fact that I feel comfortable criticizing the entire idea of making a sequel. If I condemn the sequel, it is coming from a place of love.

That being said, please don’t make this movie.

Comedy is very hard to do. When it works as well as it did back in 1994 when the original Dumb and Dumber came out it should be treated as the rare and sacred event it is. You don’t mess with that. Trying to shoehorn a sequel in to ride the tide of popularity that inevitably follows a successful comedy is like walking up to a pitcher halfway through a perfect game and wishing him luck. It just isn’t done. At least it shouldn’t be.

The sad fact is that it is almost always done. Movie making is a business, and business is shockingly unimaginative. Imagination involves taking chances. Taking chances involves risk. Businessmen hate risk. They like things that are sure to produce revenue. So, it makes all the logical sense in the world that the movie business would try to capitalize on a successful idea to make more money.

But twenty years later? I’m sad just typing this. I won’t say that this sequel will definitely be terrible, but a lot has changed in the last two decades. Jim Carrey is out of his mind now, Jeff Daniels talks like Aaron Sorkin and the Ferrelly Brothers haven’t made a good movie since the twentieth century. The odds are staked against it.

I realize I’m going to upset a few people who believe that they can go home again and that the magic of the early 90′s can be resurrected by our heroes in the studio system. I’m okay with that. Because it brings up a bigger question. Whats with all the sequels? Is it lack of original ideas or a fear of the unknown that makes sure we have a Grown Ups 2 or Fast and Furious 17 to watch instead of the imaginative and risky comedy screenplay that no one will ever read sitting at the bottom of a pile of mail on an unused desk.

Have we lost all imagination? Or is it a legitimate urge that people have to reconnect with characters they already know?

To put it another, less kind way, who’s getting lazier, the creators or the audience?

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QOTD – October 2 – What’s Your Poetry?

by Christopher Margolin

poetry-or-how-much-is-your-life-worth

We spend quite a bit of time talking about what we think words mean, and what makes poetry relevant in today’s world, but we don’t spend enough time hosting events – or at least online events. So, we are going to use today’s Question of the Day to entice you to show us your poetry.

Here’s the incentive: We’ve been asked several times to share our own writing. If we get 10 comments on this QOTD, showing us your poetry, we will show you our poetry.

QOTD:

What is your poetry?

QOTD – What’s My Age Again?

by J. Gabriel Allan

murtaugh

There are constant remind that I am no longer in my twenties: the reflection in the mirror every time the stylist wets my hair before a cut (way more forehead than necessary), the pops in the shoulders, knees, and elbows, the not getting carded for alcohol at most places, and the fact that most of my students were born when I was in high school (and some of their parents are my age).

The reminders that I am no longer in college are more frequent: the all-day hangovers, the fact that I have no desire to drink copiously for multiple days in a row (and rarely even one), eating actual meals instead of microwaved pizza, and the transition of the word party from a verb to a noun.

This weekend I had a nice reminder that I might not be an adult either.

My wife and I are avid Oregon Ducks fans. We had been planning on going to watch them play in Colorado on October 5th… you know, cause Boulder is so close to Iowa. During the planning, I realized she had never been to a game in Autzen and one of the friends we were planning on meeting couldn’t go anyway. With all this new data, we decided to plan a trip to Eugene to watch a home game.

The game: Saturday, 9/28 versus California. Perfect. Our flight was slightly inconvenient for travel, but great for our work schedules. We would leave Des Moines after work, 6 something flight, and we would arrive in Portland at midnight. We would leave Portland at 7am Sunday and be back by midafternoon (3 of the clock) and have plenty of time to have a good work day Monday.

And then the kickoff got moved to 7:30 pm Saturday night.

And then the weather report came in.

Instead of taking the time to tell you how well we planned for these new contingencies, let me tell you how the day(s) went.

Airplane delays, which are on par with death and taxes, caused us to get to bed Friday night in Beaverton (a Portland suburb for the uninitiated) at 2:30am. We woke up Saturday morning at 7:30 and had a nice breakfast with some friends and their kids. At 10 o’clock we picked up our third travelling companion who had flown in from Texas and stayed with his mom in Portland the night before and headed down to Eugene to have lunch with my parents and his dad.

We had lunch, killed some time, enjoyed some conversation, talked about how nice the weather was considering the weather report that suggested the remnants of a typhoon were heading our way and the heavy rains would start around 7.

Then we tailgated and marveled how it was cool, but not cold while wearing T-Shirts and jerseys. (It should probably be noted this tailgating included five people and three beers consumed)

As if scripted, at 7:00 the rain really came in proper.

By the 7:30 kickoff it was easy to tell this would be a game where you would have to stand or sit the entire time or you would be splashing in and out of a puddle.

I was extremely thankful I had purchased a hoodie to keep me warm under my thin rain jacket. The receiver gloves were a nice touch, too. The jeans and tennis shoes, on the other hand, were drenched. It was before halftime that the water had leaked through the jacket’s neck hole and the sweatshirt had transformed into 20 pounds of dampness. The shirtless guys in the student section had left, and most of the people who remained were the adults in their rain gear or fishing waders.

Most people bring dry clothes when they go snowboarding, skiing, or to stand in a monsoon, right?

I drove back to Portland pantsless and barefoot.

Most people create a plan of egress, especially when on a tight time schedule with a very early flight, right?

We realized we had a passenger who needed to be dropped off 35 minutes away from where we had planned to sleep.

By 2:40 in the morning we had stopped to grab our bags, dropped off our passenger, and began to painfully realize we had only had five hours of sleep in the last thirty plus. A hotel would be a great idea, right?

We slept in our rental car in the parking garage of the Portland Airport for two hours. I walked barefooted into the airport and bought a $10 pair of socks to put on to shield my (still mostly numb) feet from my (now only “mostly damp”) shoes.

One thing I’ve learned – it would suck to be homeless… especially without taking a lot of heavy drugs or being too drunk to realize what’s going in.

One thing I can’t stop thinking –

“What is this? What are we doing? What in God’s name are we doing?”

“What?”

“Our lives! What kind of lives are these? We’re like children. We’re not men.”

“No we’re not. We’re not men.”

(George Costanza & Jerry Seinfeld in “The Engagement”)

There are plenty of quotes and expressions telling us age is a state of mind, not a number or that being an adult (or a man) is not determined by the number of days you’ve lived, but how you’ve lived them, etc. etc. etc.

We’ve all heard the expressions about being a child in a man’s body or just being a “big kid”, etc. etc. etc.

We’ve all met someone who seems to have been born in the wrong decade.

Do you need a Murtaugh list (I’m too old for this $#@!) or an Old Man list (you are not old enough to go to bed before 8)?

QOTD – How old are you really? (not according to the year you were born, according to your “you”)