Honea Express

Archive for the ‘Writing’ Category

People often ask me what it is I like to do in my free time. To which I say, mind your own freaking business. If I wanted you to know about it I would put it on the blog. Or Twitter. Or Facebook. But probably not Google Plus.

But then it dawned on me that I do not have a moment of free time, hence my inability to answer. Sure, some might say that writing a blog post is “free time” and I get that, but I’m just taking a break from writing something for money. That’s a job, people. Some smoke on their breaks, I blog. Also, pornography.

Basically, I wanted to touch base with you, the reader(s), and let each and every single one one of you know that I truly appreciate your kindness in what was (and continues to be) a very tough time for us. But we’re making due and getting by, and the good (deity of your choice) willing, maybe we’ll win a few games.

I’ve been keeping busy. Limey Yank Productions is a full-time job without all the hassle of benefits or paychecks, and I’ve been posting random bits of parenting woes and whoas all over the designated play area of the Internet. I’m also trying something new: humor. It’s like funny.

My wife is enjoying her new job, the boys like their new school (the youngest started kindergarten last week!) and the dogs seem happy to be happy. I don’t know what the hell the cats are up to.

And in the meantime life is bits of love and leisure wrapped tightly between inboxes and deadlines. We spend our days working and our nights trying to catch up. The boys bounce barefoot from beach to branch, leaving a trail of sand-covered Magnolias in their wake.  The days fly by us like we’re standing still, but we are moving fast in all directions.

The wind is a chorus of whispers and promise. Free time is but a kite in the distance.

____________

Thank you for reading.

And here are the links I couldn’t fit into the paragraphs above. You’re welcome:

Atticus and the Lion King 3D Premiere (video)

Public schools outlawing peanuts

Disney’s D23 Expo recaps, Day 1 and Day 2

It starts with an email. Then there is a phone call. You might get some training on their system. There are some guidelines. You print out a contract and some tax forms, sign them, and email them back to sender. You write your first post. Maybe there is some feedback. Maybe you just keep logging on, doing what you were told, and you never hear from anyone. Your inbox may be full of jokes and community. Your comments may be full of hate and ignorance. You hope there is a check, and you hope they keep coming.

Other sites like what you do. They want your name, your talent, and your Klout score. They offer you various levels of pay and flexibility. The money is never good, but sometimes it is just enough. At some point you are able to cut the strings to a day job you have always hated and you spend the next five years working from home, writing for a living, and loving your children for stretches of time that you never knew existed. This is your benefits package, and it is everything you need but medical.

It could be you are in a new town and your wife has a new job. This is the fresh start you always read about. You might be staying with friends while you are trying to find the perfect home. There are big plans and family dreams and finally, it is the time to seize them.  Everything could be coming up roses. Everything could smell just as sweet. But everything is full of thorns, and pretty flowers tend to mask the dangers lurking underneath.

Perhaps you are standing barefoot in the cool grass of your friend’s yard, holding a phone to your ear and straining to hear the words that are changing your life forever. Perhaps it is the third straw in as many months, and it breaks your camel’s back accordingly.

It ends with an email. There might be a phone call: It’s not you, it’s me. We’re letting go of everyone. We’re revamping the system. We’re going in a new direction. We need someone that will do twice your work for half your price. We love your writing.

And then the checks stop coming.

It could be that things will be okay, except that your well has run dry and you are so frozen with fear that you cannot coax your drive out of park. In a moment your big plans and family dreams are reduced to the facts: you are as good as unemployed and you do not have a home.

Your options are few, but options are all you have. Options are the rope that life likes to dangle like so many participles: a noose, a lifeline, a tug of war, and things you are at the end of. Life has a twisted sense of humor.

Maybe you look in the mirror and you see your children laughing through your reflection, and all you know is that they do not deserve this.  Your hair is thin and it is growing grayer.

It’s a well-known fact that I live each week like it’s Shark Week. The only thing that changes is the shark. Or my underpants, depending on said shark.

This week is no different, but instead of contemplating the circle of life we’re looking at some of the other fish in the sea. That’s right, it’s review time.

Here’s what happened: A) My last post changed so many lives and made me so popular that I have more followers than I need. I figure a long review post should weed out the bandwagon. 2) While packing for the move I found a whole bunch of unkept promises behind the couch, and if there is one thing that Whit Honea almost always does, it is sometimes keep a promise.

For instance, did you know that Saturnian 1 Sport “… has the world’s easiest balls to grip.”

Seriously, it says that.

I know.

They are pretty cool though. The Fun Gripper Balls (what are you, 12?) are made from soft, durable material that makes “grasping, tossing, flinging…” Jesus, I can’t do this.

Here’s what you need to know, Saturnian 1 Sport makes sports equipment that is easy to hold and throw, and they make them in bright, fun colors. They sent my kids some footballs and soccer balls and they really do love them, and yes, they are much easier to grip than a regular ball.

Now grow up.

Speaking of fondling things, Freehands makes gloves with “flip back caps to expose your thumb and index fingers” so that you can text, email, game and pick your nose while you’re driving in the winter or a walk-in freezer. Except the driving part, don’t do that.

The good people at Freehands.com were good enough (that’s why I called them “good people”) to send me some gloves to check out. They also sent a pair for my wife, which was a nice touch. I really should have covered this during the winter, which, for the record, just ended here last Thursday.

And now…

The Arts

Seattle is well-known for its music, but did you know that one of the best genres here is aimed at kids? True story. In addition to my pal Chris Ballew (hope I didn’t hurt you when I dropped that name, see also “dropping babies“) there are a number of great acts. Take Recess Monkey, please!

Recess Monkey has a new album out this month (release date is June 21, 2011) called Flying, and it’s pretty darn catchy — in a good way. The Monkeys were kind enough to send me a copy, and my boys really dig their funky sound. In fact, now that I think about it, they kind of dance like monkeys when they listen to it. I’m going to assume that this is just a coincidence, but I’ll keep you posted.

Here is what I know about Bob Logan: He has a blog called boBLOGan, which is freaking clever, and he is the author/illustrator of the book Rocket Town. Emphasis on illustrator.

Mr. Logan has a day job as a story artist at Dreamworks, and as such he has worked on such animated hits as Madagascar, Open Season and Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs. As you can imagine, the pictures in Rocket Town are out of this world.

See what I did there?

If I Could Keep You Little… is one of those books that make people cry in the bookstore. I tend to buy things like this for my own mother so she remembers how awesome I am.  This book, written and illustrated by Marianne Richmond, is even more sappy than most — that is to say, if you love that sort of thing you will love this, and if you don’t you’ll try to write the nicest review you possibly can without saying it was just too much for you.

Like that.

Aron Nels Steinke is the talent behind The Super Crazy Cat Dance, which is, as you may have guessed super and crazy. There is also dancing. And cats. LOL.

The Super Crazy Cat Dance is for the inner crazy cat lady in all of us, and by all of us I mean my wife.

But seriously, folks, it’s good fun and written in a style easy for kids and enjoyable for adults. Who doesn’t love that? People that aren’t kids or adults, that’s who. Also, dogs.

And there you have it, gentle reader(s). Shark Week but without the sharks plus reviews. Next up, a visit from the Green Lantern.

Believe it.

I received all of the items mentioned above from the featured companies and/or artists (or an agent working on their behalf) for the purpose of review. I’ve also received other stuff, but I don’t write about items that I (or my kids) don’t like. Negative vibes make negative people, and I don’t have time for that crap.

This is my best post. I’ll tell you that right now. You might smile. You might sigh. You may have to step away from your computer and touch something to make sure this is real. That something is your focal point. This post is your anchor. I am the captain of your ship and we are sailing on an ocean made from the tears of so many children.  All children cry. Yours, because you don’t love them enough. Mine, because I love too much. All tears taste of salt. All tears flow to the sea.

I’m trying something new. Do you like it? If you do then please paste this on your car bumper. Page a friend. Yell it from the assorted rooftops. This is me excelling in a new direction, and the direction is up. It is like the rapture, but with more hype.

I am a giant redwood among the pines and oaks of daddy blogging. Other dads cut holes at my root, because they cannot reach my heart. They drive their cars through me. They are part of a fast-food forest. I am a seven course meal and the wine is an “h” short. Dessert is layered in metaphors. It is nearly as sweet as my words, but without the linger or the bite.

I will not rewrite this post, which makes it even better, because it is raw. It is trending.

I know things about parenting that you do not. You have told me so with your actions. Save your words for Scrabble and friends. This is sticks and stones territory. This is tough love. There is no reach around. There is no spoon.

Some of you may not get this. It may seem too deep. It may seem too powerful. If that is you, then congratulations, you just Googled directions to where love lives. There are hugs nearby.

If this post makes you angry then you are reading it wrong. If it makes you cry then you are probably Glenn Beck. Or me. Let it out. That’s how love flows. It sounds like Kenny G on a train in the distance.

There is a box and you are in it. I am on the outside, thinking of ways to help you get more traffic. It starts when I open the lid.

I have no idea who you are.

I shake your hand. I read your blog. I laugh at your jokes over beers and football. We chat during chance meetings at random places in a random world full of near misses and perfect timing. Your kids and my kids play together. Your parents know mine. We were classmates. We worked in the same office. We slept together. You sang in the choir. We’re friends on Facebook. You saved her life.

We are all walking shades and notes of choices and the places we’ve been and the places we’ll go. We share memories. We tell stories. I remember you. I saw you this morning. We’ve lived in the moment and we lost touch years ago.

You know everything about me. You know the highlights and skimmed the details. I saw you at a bar and we nodded with a smile. We couldn’t remember our names.

I read your obituary and regretted it all. You’ll visit this summer and we’ll go to the beach. Please, tell your sister that I said hello.

Life is filled with a cast of thousands. There are masses in the marketplace. There is crying in the library. I heard a song on the subway. Dinner was fantastic.

I miss you and I am sick of your shit.

You are complex and incredible with legs like wine. Society only scratches on the surface. Everyone has secrets and dreams and something worth knowing. Nobody understands me. I can’t find my coat.

Come in and know me better, man.

I have no idea who you are. It is time that we changed that.