Half Past Awesome

and now, we're into to copyright violation territory

I’ve not posted in a long while, long in the internet-based-relative sense. There are a couple of essays in the hopper that go into the trip to California last weekend, and how about that one where most of the Springfield firefighters were wearing pink tee shirts for the past couple of weeks? The Heathens have had some heart-warming/making-me-want-to-shake-them-violently moments too, but none that make sense beyond the immediate family.

I’ve got a bit of a problem.

Let me explain. I’ve been trolling through old posts, working on a new writing gig and trying to cultivate some ideas. This has led to a disturbing recognition: I’ve degenerated into a predictable pattern. The essays all seem to go in this order (aside from movie reviews):

1.) witty/funny/poignant situation, whereby I mock/slander/observe humorous scenario

2.) realization that corny/ignorant/insane protagonist is more than family member/illiterate neighbor/idiotic friend

3.) wax all nostalgic on significance of observation/friendship/shared love of bacon

4.) tie story back around to the beginning with funny ending/pithy insight/verbal group-hug

5.) add in gross/humorous/embarrassing picture to amuse you, the reader

Holy crap. My writing has taken on the tone of the NBC psa-s that invaded my childhood (see picture above). These amusing anecdotes have been informing me for over two decades on the importance of awareness on such topics as bone density and stroke prevention. Always narrated by a television star-du-jour, they were meant to impart a certain seriousness, especially as it came to the topic of prenatal care.They sort of worked in a roundabout way, as I found myself at nine years of age asking my peers if they were appropriately concerned about diabetes prevention.

But the recurring theme with the public service announcements (along with that musical theme song you’re humming right now) was a steady and predictable wagging of the finger at you, as if to say “look, I’m Bill Cosby, and I’m funny as hell most of the time, but right now I want to talk to you about a serious problem we all face: chain smoking house cats who don’t get enough excercise”. As hyper-consumers of all things that came across our screens, we immediately cast an accusing eye at the lazy housecat sunning himself in the window box, curious if we caught a whiff of mothers Virginia Slims emanating from his twitching tail.

My point? It worked, but only up until a certain point. I no longer concern myself with some supposed Real Housewife Of The Greater Tri-State Area offering up 30 second lectures. They’ve lost me, they’ve cried wolf in a boring fashion too many times. And I worry that the essays I offer you are heading down the same path.

So here’s my solution/conditional offer.

I need some new perspective, and I like where a lot of you are coming from. I want to offer you a non-paying opportunity for me to be lazy just a bit longer: I want you to author some posts for me here. If you’re funny, if you’re boring as hell, it really matters not. I just want to see what other people who read this site might say, given a platform. The only requirement is that your work be limited to somewhere in the neighborhood of 1000 words or less.

Maybe you can jar me out of my stilted patterns.

Maybe you can make this site about more than a Seinfeld-ian loop of nothing in particular.

Interested? Let me know at uli@halfpastawesome.com

Raisin and Porter Synthesizing Human Data

Ever walk into the room to have a canine look at you, size you up with a tilt of the head and see it thinking “y’know, I came from outerspace and I could end you at any given moment”? Welcome to my world.

Pugs are the breed of dog my wife and I invested in several years ago due to their big dog personality in a little dog package, crumpled face, frog eyes, curled tail and kid-friendly reputation. Little did we realize that the breed actually was not of ancient Chinese origin popularized by Europeans favoring “much in little”, rather they were an alien breed sent to Earth to monitor human civilization one household at a time.

That’s absurd you say? Allow me to present evidence A. Pugs are not well equipped to live on our watery planet as they suffer from a variety of health issues, including overheating, obesity, pharyngeal reflex and two fatal conditions which are granulomatous meningoencephalitis and hemivertebrae. What other dog has these issues? None. They are smart enough to lull their owners into considering them to be quiet and docile, or vivacious and teasing—depending on their owner’s mood—while they collect evidence for their superior alien race located deep in an unknown galaxy several millions of light years away.

I have often confronted our pugs Raisin and Porter as to their intentions here on Earth, but they simply deflect the question with puggy cuteness and loving temperament. I’m certain they will consume me in their own time, once I’ve provided enough information for their scientific fact finding mission.

Our dogs also possess hypersonic speeds. When agitated or teased, I tend to test them from time to time, they run circles around the house with great velocity. At this time they are barely visible and I can only assume that they are showing me their superior power and strength as a warning not to push them too far.

The result I expect to achieve one day is to agitate the little alien beast so that their head splits off and the little green alien controlling their canine bodies steps out and says, “let’s just give us a bone and quit the games, right?”

Still think I’m wrong? Check out the pug’s teeth and hang onto your human canines. A pug tooth is the best indicator that life exists outside of our planet. The molar teeth are so irregular I believe that they are used primarily as a map of their home galaxy vs. crushing dog food or anything else they find in the yard to consume to fuel their out-of-this-world alien vessel covered in shedding fur.

So keep this in mind all ye soon to be dog owners. Why did the movie Men In Black feature a pug as a main alien character? Because it is true. Google it. Make your family canine selection carefully and use measured judgment when taking home your new “best friend”.

Chad Harris is the founder and editor of Fair City News, a satirical look at local happenings here in Springfield, Mo. He’s also nominated for three “Blogaronis” by The Springfield Bloggers Association, including “Blog Of The Year“.  As if he didn’t have enough on his plate, he’s a founder and member of The Improvadors, a comedy troupe entertaining the unsuspecting public on a regular basis. He is one funny sonofagun, a title I just made up.