Honea Express

Archive for the ‘meme’ Category

Hi. Remember me? I’ve been a terrible blogger-buddy. Maybe it is because I couldn’t go to the party. Maybe it’s because my Fantasy Football team sucks. Maybe it is because BlogRush, that was in my sidebar, contacted me and said my blog wasn’t up to their standards and provided a list of said standards of which I met, if not exceeded, every one. Screw ‘em.

Sure, those might be part of it, but the truth is I’ve been busy. Thing 1 has blossomed as a full-blown lover of all things Halloween and as such we’ve spent every free moment creating decorations and spooky-ooky houses. These are generally made from sticks and duct tape. Whatever, he digs it.

In addition, I’ve taken on yet another blogging gig. Yes, the internet is mine, all mine! Bahawahahaha!! That’s supposed to be some evil laugh thing in case you were wondering.

What this means is that I’ll be spreading myself even thinner, but my pockets will be getting fatter. It’s a win-win. The new site will be up soon. I’ll keep you posted.

In the meantime I’m still reading blogs I just haven’t been commenting as much. That’s because my fingers are numb and my brain is mush. More than usual.

In closing, Keith at African American Dad has tagged me with a NonBlog Meme. This seems like as good a place for it as any.

My answers are below the fine print:

The Rules:

1. After your intro, copy/paste this line and the rules below it: The originator wants to see how far it goes so please keep his link intact: http://rileycentral.net/

2. Encourage people to post with the incentive of a link by including those who have passed it along here:(Your link here and so on . . .) Seriously, what the heck does this part mean?<--Keith added that part, but I agree.

3. Visit at least 3 on the list that have written and passed this meme. Leave them a comment..

Damien at Riley Central says, “Today I hereby unblog my mind with this post. One reason MANY of us writers get writer’s block is because we don’t nurture the things that give us joy. We spend too much time on the computer trying to write when we haven’t done anything worthy of writing about! To illustrate what makes me tick, and what gives me pure joy I am choosing 3 things I enjoy more than blogging and writing about them! Pick three things that enrapture, consume, fascinate, or otherwise enliven you more than blogging. Then write a few lines about each to explain what the nonblog activity does for you, why and how.”

Top 3 things I enjoy more than blogging:

1. My family. I was going to be lame(r) and list them individually as the three things, but even a lazy guy like me can do better than that. Obviously they are the most important aspect of my life. I can’t even remember what motivated me before I had kids. Oh, wait, yes I can, and I guess that’s how I came to have kids. It’s one of those butterfly in the Amazon sort of things. I know I’m supposed to list the reasons why I chose this answer, but I think this one speaks for itself, and if it doesn’t, pick a post, any post.

2. Music. I love music. I was just going to say that I always have music playing and then I realized that I was sitting here in silence. Hey, the boys are in bed, the wife is at work and I just turned off SportsCenter. I don’t get a lot of me time. Yes, I stand by #1.

   I do love music though. Now I feel weird. Pardon me a moment…

   Ok, I just hit play on iTunes. Wilco came on, which is always good. I’ve been listening the hell out their new album. I’m also heavy into the latest Shins (I know, it’s been a while, but it’s good) and the most recent Foo Fighters. I also came across a fun little band of British hotties called the Pipettes which are a lot of fun.

   Most of you know I’m a Beatles guy, but did you know I’m a jazz guy as well? That’s what fills most of my day. I have a decent collection, but lately I’ve gone the lazy route and just play the ‘real jazz’ station on the XM channels on my satellite TV. There was a time, years ago, that my only experience with jazz were the likes of Harry Connick Jr., and Kenny G. I took a jazz appreciation course in college and quickly replaced my Kenny G albums with the likes of Monk, Miles and the ilk. I love that shit in the morning with my coffee or in the small hours of the night with whisky and lonely thoughts. You can’t beat it. In fact, the first story I ever published was called “Jazz,” and you can find it in my internets. It’s not for the faint of heart.

   Crap, how long is this answer? To wrap it up, I love music but I can’t play it. We have a keyboard, a piano, a guitar, a drum kit, and various smaller instruments in our home and neither my wife or I can play any of them. I’m hoping the boys develop my ear for it and take it a step further.

3. Animals. Yes, I’m back to eating them, but only the ones that deserve it. I’ve always loved animals. We have 3 dogs and 3 cats, with over a dozen other cats in the surrounding area that my wife has taken to feeding and petting on a daily basis. As soon as she starts wearing a shawl we’re moving.
   
   They just make me feel good. They always have. I grew up on a large parcel of land surrounded by fields and desert. Over the years we had the following pets:
   • Dogs
   • Cats
   • Pigeons
   • Geese
   • Pigs
   • Sheep
   • Cows
   • Horses
   • Rabbits
   • Ferrett
   • Monkey
   • Chickens
   • Goats
   • Fish
   • Hamsters

   I think that’s it. Of those, only one cow, Strawberry, made it into the freezer and when my sister and I refused to eat her my parents gave the meat away. As far as we know, but really, that’s freaking gross.

Okay, how boring was that for you? Try living it.

In the spirit of memes I’m now supposed to tag some people, so here you go (feel free to participate even if your name isn’t called): JerryChicken, FlutterCrafts, and Daddyshack. Tin roof. Rusted.

Last week I thought of tons of things to write about. I can’t remember any of them. However, I do have this meme that has been sitting in my junk-drawer for a while. Figured I could dust it off and see if it still works.

Island Girl tagged me with this years ago. It’s been so long that the flowers that came with it have already been pressed in my bible, and the chocolates, well, they didn’t last a week. I had to check Wikipedia to make sure Jesus was still prevalent, and seeing that some Central American countries believe that he is, I’ll go ahead and do it.

This meme is for Belize.

Long before Dan interviewed me, I was supposed to be grilled by Matthew from Childs Play X 2, (whom I’ve drank many beers next to) but he was busy and/or forgot about me. He contacted me today with my questions, and said that he understood should I want to wait a while, fresh as I was off the first. However, since this whole meme involves me interviewing others, I’m going to piggyback the last post so as to hopefully avoid extra work for myself. Asking questions is hard.

Here’s the second round, courtesy of Matthew:

1. Since you went with the bald look, are you more Vin Diesel or more Bruce Willis?

I’m definitely more of a Bruce Willis, back from the days of crackin’ wise on Moonlighting. I’m a thinking man’s action hero.

2. How DO you get your wife to stay with you? I mean, really. It’s like she has THREE boys.

I am EXCELLENT in the sack. That’s what it comes down to.

3. Describe your perfect day.

First we would drink sangria in the park, and then later, when it gets dark, we’ll go home.
We would feed animals in the zoo, then later a movie too, and then home.

4. As a bartender, what was your favorite drink to make and what would you make me if I sauntered up to the bar?

Most bartenders worth their mud will tell you that their favorite drink to make is a Bloody Mary. I would have to agree. The trick is to grind black pepper on the ice, then add two ounces of a decent vodka- Absolute Peppar is made for this drink. There are plenty of good mixes on the market, but I like to use spicy V-8, that way you’ve just justified having a second (or third). Season to taste. I’ve had to use what we’ve got on many occasions, but my favorite additions are splashes of chipotle sauce, fajita spice and a dash of garlic A-1. Don’t go crazy on the garnishes, celery is for old ladies, just a lime and an olive (stuffed with garlic or jalepenos is always nice). Sometimes I’ll go crazy and substitute a pickled green bean.

If you sauntered up to the bar I’d make you a white wine spritzer.

5. Atticus? Zane? Explain.

We didn’t know the gender of our children until the minute they popped out, ala Alien, from their momma’s belly. We figured there are only so many good surprises left, why rush it. That said we had a boy and girl name picked out each time.

Atticus: Like most American’s I was forced to read To Kill a Mockingbird in high school. I couldn’t put it down. That was in English.

My junior year we had a History teacher show us the movie version. I decided then that should I ever have a son, his name would be Atticus.

Oddly enough I went on to get a degree in English with a minor in History. Coincidence?

Luckily, Tricia was cool with the name. At first she was the only one. Even the nurses in the delivery room gave us a double-take.

Interestingly enough, the week before his birth the American Film Institute named the character of Atticus the number one screen hero of all time. Gregory Peck, that played him, died a few days later. Tricia’s father called her and told her that the world needed a new Atticus, two days later they got him.

Zane: The story behind his name is much shorter. Whereas I had Atticus picked out for over 15 years, we didn’t consider the name Zane until Tricia was 5 months pregnant. We had just spent a great 3 days on Catalina Island, which is heavily influence by the author Zane Grey.

At the time we were still bouncing around a number of ideas, which escape me now, and maybe it was the fact that our trip was one of our most relaxing ever, or that Tricia was knee-deep in the copy of Riders of the Purple Sage that she bought in an island bookstore, but the name Zane was offered up and it stuck.

People have had lots of fun with the fact that our boys are A-Z, or the abbreviation for Arizona, where I’m from and where Tricia and I met, but we never even gave it a thought until it was too late, not that we cared.

On a side note, both boys have surnames from Beatles as their middle name. I’m a Beatles guy, what can I say?

I’m not going to put the rules again. If you want to be interviewed just let me know.

Dan, of All That Comes With It, was kind enough to take 5 seconds out of his day and ask me some questions. He apologized profusely for the “low quality” of the questions, but they don’t seem of any lower quality than anything else Dan sends me. Oh wait, the stuff he normally sends is lowbrow, but of exceptionally high quality. My bad, Dan.

So here are the questions, which for the record, I am very happy with:

1. What’s the best photo you’ve ever taken?

I don’t have a favorite per se, but I like these:

2. Daffy or Donald?

I wouldn’t be representing my Disneyness very well if I chose anyone other than Donald, now would I. However, in all fairness, I do enjoy the antics of both.

3. What was your favorite childhood possession?

Does a pet count as a possession? If so, does a chicken count as a pet? I used to have a huge rooster named Gilligan that went everywhere with me. He stood on my head. The dog across the street ate him. He said he tasted like chicken.

I was also partial to my baseball mitt.

4. Was your Prague trip part of a grand tour or was it a one off?

My trip to Prague was actually a stop in the middle of an 8 country trek. A friend was attending a semester abroad in the Netherlands, so my roommate and I took our student loan checks and bought round trip tickets to Paris and train tickets to tour us through a chunk of Europe.

We met up with our friend in Amsterdam and spent quality time in Dresden and Barcelona before meeting other longtime friends at the base of the Eiffel Tower. There are many more stories from that trip, but that was the only one I’ll tell in these pages.

5. What book needs to be made into a film?

A lot of books I like are either movies already, To Kill a Mockingbird, Lord of the Rings, a bunch of the classics, and other, more recent books that I like, such as A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius and The Ha-Ha are supposedly being made into films.

I can’t believe that A Catcher in the Rye hasn’t ever made it to the screen. Also, I think that something by David Sedaris could make for a pretty funny film.

Of course, any book I write should be made into a huge blockbuster as soon as possible.

That’s it. According to the rules, which I am a stickler for, I am to post this information:

Interview rules:
1. Leave me a comment saying “Interview me.”
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the
questions.
3. You will update your blog with a post containing your the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Hope that wasn’t too boring for everyone. Thanks Dan!

There was a time in my life when I considered myself a writer and poet. I had forgotten about that until I read ImPerceptibility’s take on me (a-ha).

I spent too many years in college sitting up late drinking wine and listening to Chet Baker while trying to use my words to woo women. Eh, it was hit and miss.

The best part about majoring in writing was that it was filled with workshops and poetry readings. They were the only classes where the excuses of sex and drinking were accepted as valid reasons for being late or absent.

“But did you write, Mr. Honea?” they would say, eager for my answer.

“Yes. Yes, I did. I wrote my sexy, drunk ass off.” I would reply.

They would clasp their hands, smile, and motion for me to be seated. Sometimes I would wink at a fellow student as I made my way to my seat. The next week they would wink at me.

The thing is, I still consider myself a writer, but the poet has been buried. Granted, I did go speak to a group of high schoolers just this past February in the guise of a poet, but what the hell, I was still making my living slinging drinks at that point. However, I’ve got to admit, it went well.

I guess what it comes down to, is that aside from a few bits that I have written for the boys, I haven’t done much in this vein in too long. It’s time to break out the needle.

I want to feel that again- to live life as a poet. Society cuts the crazies a lot of slack, and there is no one crazier than a man that writes poetry and flaunts it.

Cut me some slack.

There is a collection of poems that I put together, back in those days of innocence and ignorance that covered the winding road of the heart, (hey, it’s poetry, what do you want?) and they ranged from the highest high to the lowest low. If you’ve read any of my fiction then you have an idea of the darkness I played in. The following is the title piece from the collection, although I don’t believe it to be the best, it’s decent enough that I’ll share it and not fear it’s judgment.

If you made it this far you may as well read the damn thing:

Words of Women and Whiskey

How many sirens
do you hear at night
(against the echoes
of distant trains
and the constant
barking of alley dogs)?
going somewhere
where someone lost,
maybe not the war,
but the battle,
and I can’t help but wonder
if they were fighting the words
of women and whiskey.