Linda M. Au – Page 3

Today I taught my parents… (Part 2)

Last week on “Today I Taught My Parents,” we watched Linda teach her dad how to use a fast-food drive-thru.

This week on “Today I Taught My Parents,” Linda helps her mother navigate ordering food online through a restaurant’s website.

**Linda’s mother looks nothing like this.**

Every phone conversation with my mother over the past umpteen years has started like this: “I know you’re busy. Do you have a few minutes?”

I fall for this tactic every time. It’s a good thing that she’s cute. And that she’s my mother.

The other day she called to ask about working her way through ordering Chinese food online. They typically call their favorite Chinese restaurant on the phone to place an order, and then my dad drives there to pick it up. But, for some reason, the restaurant wasn’t answering their phone.

So, my mom, desperate for some General Tso’s chicken or pepper steak or maybe just fortune cookies, ventured online to place an order. This is where the phone call came in.

Mom: Hi, honey. I know you’re busy. Do you have a few minutes?
Me: Sure. [Apparently I enjoy lying to my own mother.] Whassup?
Mom: I’m trying to order food online from China House.
Me: Wait, speak up. I could have sworn you said you’re ordering food online.
Mom: I am. But it keeps asking me to create a profile.
Me: Are you missing a step or something? You shouldn’t need to create a profile. Just skip that part.
Mom: I can’t. It won’t let me go any further. When I finish and click Save, it just goes back to the profile page.
Me: This is happening on China House’s website?
Mom: No. I’m on a site called chinesemenu.com and…
Me: So you’re not on a site just for China House? Hang on a second…

My mom starts mumbling something else, but I’ve missed it because now I’m opening up a browser window and going to chinesemenu.com myself, just to be sure she’s not giving her credit card information to some Nigerian prince. Sure enough, it’s legit.

But she’s right about the profile page thing, which kinda freaks me out because I was 99% sure she was misunderstanding things or was on a page rerouting to the site of that Nigerian prince. Sure enough, creating a profile and saving it just takes me back to the same page I was just on.

Until I see something in the upper right corner of the screen.

Me: Mom? Are you still on the profile page?
Mom: [dripping with sarcasm] Where else would I be? I’ve been stuck on this friggin’ page for an hour now.
Me: Click on the words “chinesemenu.com” in the upper right corner of your screen.
Mom: What?
Me: Click… on… the… words…
Mom: I heard ya. I heard ya. I’m not deaf. I’m just old. And cranky.

She’s not wrong. On all counts.

Mom: That worked. Thanks!

Click.

I go back to my work. A few minutes later, the phone rings.

Mom: Hi, honey. I know you’re busy. Do you have a few more minutes?
Me: Sure. Why not? What happened now?
Mom: Well, I got through the entire order, but…
Me: [trying to sound helpful and not embittered and ready for therapy] Yes?
Mom: I got to the end where…
Me: Wait, what? the end of what?
Mom: The order! I got to the end and…
Me: Sorry. I’m on the site again, trying to walk through a fake order just to see what you’re seeing.
Mom: What? Why would you do something like that? Are you having Chinese food too?

I wisely decide not to explain this to her. After all, I may have initially said I’m not busy, but I’m not THAT not-busy.

At this point, I find China House on my screen again and walk my way through their menu, fake-ordering lo mein and moo shoo pork and making myself really hungry for Chinese food. Everything is fine till I get to the end.

Me: Mom, how did you input your credit card information?
Mom: What?
Me: Your credit card information. Where did you input that? I don’t see any options to pay for this order.
Mom: Oh, I didn’t. I clicked on Cash at Pickup.

This confuses me, because it seems so much more complex than simply placing an order over the phone—especially for my mom. Then I remember that she told me China House wasn’t answering their phone.

Me: So then, what’s the problem?
Mom: What do I do next?
Me: [looking at the screen with my fake order on it] Click where it says Place Order.
Mom: And then what will happen?
Me: Your computer will explode into a million tiny plastic shards, and time will move in reverse until you’re back in high school. Is that okay?
Mom: Don’t get cute with me. I taught you how to use a toilet.

She has a point. Even if it took me longer than most kids to get the hang of it, especially at night. But I digress.

Me: I assume it’ll place your order with China House. It might give you some indication of when you should go pick it up. Then, um, Dad can go pick it up, I guess.
Mom: [cheerily] Okay! Thanks!

Click.

I go back to my work… again. A few minutes later, the phone rings. I don’t even need to check the caller ID.

Me: Mom? What now?
Mom: Your father just called from downtown. They’re closed.

I feel awful for them both. They’ve been stuck in the house for weeks, like the rest of us, and they look forward to their outings.

Knowing my dad, though, he probably just stopped at the Wendy’s drive-thru on his way back home. You know, now that he’s an expert.

Today I taught my parents…

This week on “Today I Taught My Parents,” we watch as Linda tries to walk her father through using the Wendy’s drive-thru. Over the phone. During a pandemic.

*****

The phone rings. It’s one of my parents, but I’m in the middle of a video-conference board meeting that’s going to last for three hours, so I let it go to voicemail. While I’m smiling and nodding at the webcam and trying to take notes on the meeting, I surreptitiously open my email program and zap an email off to my mom telling her why I didn’t answer the phone.

At the end of the meeting, I see an email from her, stating my dad has a question, and that he’ll call in the morning “after 10.” I reply and ask to push it back to noon, knowing I won’t be conscious before 10 or 10:30.

The next day, the phone rings at 11:55 a.m. My parents are nothing if not overly punctual.

Me: Hi, Dad. Whassup?
Dad: Hey, what do you know about the Wendy’s drive-thru?
Me: What do you mean, what do I know?
Dad: How does it work?

At this point it occurs to me that I’m not sure my parents have ever used a fast food drive-thru. Like, ever. Sure, they’ve had fast food, but my recollection is that they always park, always go inside, and always eat in the dining room. Like civilized people.

I, on the other hand, grab greasy drive-thru food and eat it in my car on the way home from the grocery store, where I’ve just purchased healthy produce and low-carb ingredients for the pantry. The irony of this is never lost on me.

Me: Well, the Wendy’s near you has two windows. You pay at the first one and…
Dad: Do they take debit cards?
Me: Yeah, of course.
Dad: How does that work?
Me: Well, you order at the big light-up menu first and then…
Dad: Do they take your card from you?
Me (now feeling slightly confused): Umm, yes…?
Dad: Like, they take the actual card?
Me: Yeah. You hand them the card through the window—the first window—and they swipe it and hand it back to you. Then…
Dad: They hand it back through the window?
Me: Umm, yes…?

At this point I’m starting to wonder if this is an elaborate prank. But then I remember this is my dad, and that he still carries filthy wads of cash in his wallet. On purpose.

Dad: And then?
Me: Then, when you get your card back, you drive to the second window to pick up your order.
Dad: Uh huh.

At this point I’m starting to wonder if he’s taking notes.

Me: Usually at Wendy’s, your receipt is in the bag with your order at the second window. At McDonald’s they give you the receipt when they hand back your debit card.
Dad (hesitating): Umm, okay. Thanks!
Me: Enjoy!

Yup, he’s taking notes. Or maybe he’s just worrying about whether to bring along some sanitizing wipes to wipe down the debit card when they hand it back. I’ve been doing this myself the past few weeks.

Meanwhile, I’m starting to realize how many times I must have used fast food drive-thru windows, if I know how each one handles your receipt.

In the days of a pandemic, when stepping through the door of any business now means mandatory face masks, even my parents see the appeal of drive-thru windows. And debit cards. And sanitizing wipes.

Stay safe out there, Dad.

34 Things You Didn’t Need to Know about Me

The more you know, the more you realize you didn’t want to know QUITE that much…

This survey has been circulating around Facebook, so I figured I’d post it here for the three or four of you left in the world who aren’t yet my Facebook friends.

1. Who are you named after?
Middle name: Mae, after my grandmother, whose awesome full name was Fannie Mae Hockenberry. I swear, with a name like hers, she should have been selling strawberry preserves.
First name: Linda, just because my parents liked it, especially once they realized their first choice, “Amy Au,” sounded silly. (This, coming from my mom, Ann Au, who doesn’t even have a middle name!)

2. Last time you cried?
Earlier today. I came home from a weird grocery shopping trip with a store full of just adults (not a child anywhere), none of whom were talking AT ALL, not even couples talking to each other. NOBODY TALKING. It didn’t bother me till I got home and was writing to someone else about it and busted out crying… I’m a very, VERY serious person most of the time, as you all know. (cough) The last time I cried before today was when we ran out of ice cream and the stores were all closed. (See? Very serious. I weight all personal tragedies equally.)

3. Do you like your handwriting?
What are we, in third grade? Here in my office alone I can see eight keyboards and ten typewriters. I type everything these days, so I don’t think I’ve even SEEN my own handwriting since the Reagan Administration.

4. What is your favorite lunch meat?
Don’t judge. Oscar Mayer B-O-L-O-G-N-A. (You know you just sang that. And you know you’re going to curse me at 2 a.m. when it’s still stuck in your head.)

5. Longest relationship?
Romantic? Then, depending on how you define it, either my husband Wayne… We’ve beaten my first marriage by 7 years so far, although calling it “romantic” after 20 years now means “date nights” at a casino buffet, where Wayne saying “Here’s fifty bucks. Let’s have some fun!” has a very different meaning than it would have when I was twenty… or, if imaginary relationships count, then Gene Wilder. (I SAID, DON’T JUDGE!)

6. Do you still have your tonsils?
Wait, let me check… gnnhgrrr grrrllllnnngggg… Yup. Still there. Whew, for a moment I thought somebody might have stolen them.

7. Would you bungee jump?
Is this a trick question? Because I don’t even like getting on a step-stool with more than two steps.Next question.

8. What is your favorite cereal?
Deep philosophical questions like this really confound me. I’d have to say either Cap’n Crunch original or Honey Bunches of Oats With Almonds (in spite of their ridiculous, clearly-too-literal name).

9. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?
When I even wear shoes, NO. I’ve replaced every shoelace in every shoe I own with these rubbery things that look like shoelaces but that simply turn your tied shoes into slip-ons. Every pair of Chuck Taylors are now SLIP-ONS. This was a game-changer for me. I mean, like, Yes, There Is A God game-changer.

10. Do you think you’re strong-willed?
Only if you want me to be.

11. Favorite ice cream?
Black raspberry or Mint chocolate chip. On a good waffle cone, please. Aaaaaand, now I’m hungry. Aaaaand there is no ice cream in the house. Now I must cry for the second time today. (See question 2.)

12. What is the first thing you notice about a person?
These days, whether or not they’re six feet away. Before March 2020, whether they look like they have a sense of humor. If they do, I whip out the sarcasm and snarky jokes. If they don’t, I whip out even more sarcasm and snarky jokes. Win-win.

13. Football or baseball?
On TV? football. Live? baseball. Getting hit in the head? Wiffle ball.

14. What color pants are you wearing?
I beg your pardon? Any day of the year it’s _____ [fill in the blank with a color from black to gray] sweatpants. Well, except for summer when it’s hot. Then it’s _____ [fill in the blank with a color from gray to black] sweat shorts.

15. Last thing you ate?
Low-carb pizza on a cauliflower crust. Pray for me. I’m going to cry for the third time today. I hate this survey.

16. What are you listening to?
The latest episode of Outlander via Roku on the TV in my office. And the tinnitus ringing in my ears 24/7. Anybody’s guess which one has more of my attention at any given time.

17. If you were a crayon, what color would you be?
Having worked for Crayola in the distant past, I can definitely say it’s NOT PERIWINKLE. But it might be Burnt Sienna. Just… NOT PERIWINKLE. I’m having PTSD flashbacks from 1981 now.

18. What is your favorite smell?
Crayons, but that’s probably because of the previous question. Really, it’s freshly ground coffee. Or freshly minted money. Or freshly washed babies. Just not low-carb pizza on a cauliflower crust. (Four times.)

19. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?
My brother on St. Patrick’s Day. (Hint: That was a week ago. DO NOT CALL ME ON THE PHONE.) He was checking in on our parents, who hadn’t answered their phone because, oddly, it never rang. Even more oddly, I was at their house when he called, and I told him they were fine. Even more oddly still, neither party wanted to actually talk to the other one so I hung up. Dysfunctional much?

20. Married?
Yes, so you’ll have to find some other poor shmoe to harass through your swipe-left-swipe-right app. I already have my own shmoe and we harass each other daily.

21. Hair color?
Until recently, Clairol Nice ‘N Easy #121. When I stopped coloring it, what was underneath was a lot whiter than I would have guessed. But it’s too late to go back now. Everybody’s seen it this way, and there are too many pictures!

22. Eye color?
Wait, let me check… Darn, that only works for tonsils… and genitals. (It’s more fun with the genitals than the tonsils, by the way, but the answer takes a lot longer.) I just dug out my driver’s license and it says brown eyes, so let’s go with that because “bloodshot” is apparently not an appropriate answer.

23. Favorite food to eat?
Wait… what am I doing with the OTHER foods if I’m not eating them??

24. Scary movies or happy endings?
Scary movies with happy endings. (Because happy movies with scary endings are just weird.)

25. Last movie you watched In a theater?
Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, with my friend Crystal and her family here in Pittsburgh. Before that, wow… was it Gone With the Wind with my mother? (NO! NOT THE ORIGINAL SHOWING! I’m not THAT old, and neither is my mother!)

26. What color shirt are you wearing?
It’s always a _____ [fill in the blank with a color from gray to black] sweatshirt (today is gray) with a changeable T-shirt or raglan T-shirt underneath. (The layered look is still in, right?) Our freakin’ huge house has 12-foot ceilings and two furnaces so it’s always ch-ch-chilly in here. Even in August.

27. Favorite holiday?
Halloween, or, as I refer to it, NaNoWriMo Eve.

28. Beer or wine?
Neither. Sorry. Rum and Diet Coke, a.k.a. a Skinny Captain. Or a fruity bad-for-this-diabetic punch-like drink, preferably served to me with a tiny paper umbrella while I’m lounging on a lounge chair while I’m cruising on a cruise ship (just not the Diamond Princess).

29. Night owl or morning person?
If you’re asking if I like to stay up late and work, then night owl. If you’re asking when I like to actually go to bed, then morning person.

30. Favorite day of the week?
I might be the only person who answers this question with MONDAY. I love Mondays. Promise of a new week, and all that crap… yada yada puke. (Seriously, it’s Monday. Now put down those pitchforks!)

31. Favorite animal?
As pets, CATS. As critters in my back yard, fox squirrels. As just animals I wish I could have as pets, then maybe a panda or a sloth or a koala or a semi-sedated fox squirrel on Quaaludes.

32. Do you have any pets?
I have none of the animals listed in #31, sad to say. Instead, I have two 4-year-old asshole guinea pigs named Carl and Steve, who are biological brothers. Both are drama queens who act either like they’re starving or like you’re killing them. There is no in-between with the little tailless prima donnas.

33. Where would you like to travel?
In late March 2020, to a grocery store with toilet paper.

34. What are you working on at present?
THIS SURVEY. Haven’t you been paying attention to how this works??

I vote for better weather!

So… today I voted. Yay me! And if you voted, yay you!

Even if the weather is horrible (and in western Pennsylvania, it often is), I never miss an election. Never in my forty years of voting. Not even a primary. Certainly not a general election. I’ve used absentee ballots when necessary. I’ve gone in snow, hail, and rain (like today).

**Not my actual polling place, but the spirit is right…**

Today’s voting in my ward involved paper ballots for the first time.

For many years I used old-fashioned mechanical voting machines, with those cool curtains I opened and closed with a lever, which made me feel like the Wizard of Oz. I loved voting with those machines.

**Actual photo of me voting in the eighties…**

Then I got married and moved to a different county, where we used these computer-type voting machines with folded-out privacy panels. Now voting felt more like I was a Jeopardy! contestant scribbling the question to that Final Jeopardy answer.

Fast-forward to a bunch of complaints about hacking, and some shady circumstances surrounding ballots being waylaid on their way to being counted… and today I walked into my polling place to find those paper ballots.

When I arrived, there were only two other people voting … and about six poll workers chatting. One of the poll workers was wearing green fuzzy slippers. They looked like these, only dirtier.

**Picture a pair of these after they’d been dragged through a ditch.**

Now, I realize it’s a long day for these poll workers, but… old fuzzy slippers? Even I—the night owl slackingest slacker in the entire state of Pennsylvania—exchanged the sweats and slippers for real jeans, a real bra, and a real nice top (and my Converse Chucks) to go vote. And nobody even saw me except those six poll workers and the two other people voting.

Well, plus that woman out front stuffing propaganda into my fists. (Thanks, lady, but if I’m going into a polling place and I’m still being swayed by printed postcards, I haven’t done my research very well. Still, it was a lovely gesture, and I’m glad you got to see my Chucks.)

The poll worker taking my name handed me an “I Voted!” sticker.

Then another poll worker handed me the paper ballot in a folder and a second “I Voted!” sticker. I asked him if that meant I got to vote twice. He blinked at me.

I said, “Oh yeah, right. This isn’t Chicago. Sorry.” He blinked at me again.

I sat in one of the little privacy cubicles and took the paper ballot out of the blue folder. In my forty years of voting, I’d never used paper ballots before. These weren’t of the “hanging chad” variety, though. Instead, we had to color in these little jellybean-shaped ovals with a pen.

So now I’m having PTSD symptoms of taking the SATs in the seventies. “Color them in thoroughly or they won’t count!” The only thing missing was the #2 pencil.

Still, it was a straightforward ballot, and I’d done my homework and knew who I was going to vote for. Despite the school test flashbacks, it was a fairly painless procedure.

Once I was done voting, one of the poll workers slid the paper into this contraption that looked kinda like a fax machine, and whoosh! It was gone!

**Image is an approximate representation of the fax machine… I mean, ballot-catcher thing.**

The skeptic in me wondered if the machine wasn’t, in fact, a paper shredder because I’m from the minority party around here. But I bit my lip and said nothing.

Anyway, I got to vote for lots of stuff. There still weren’t any referendum questions about Daylight Saving Time, though. So, all my dog-owning, toddler-raising friends must suffer for another year. We night owls don’t even notice when the clocks switch. We’re either awake anyway or still sleeping.

I hope those of you in areas with elections voted today. Participating in a democratic process isn’t perfect (hey, we’re all sinners, what did you expect?), but it’s still a lot better than all the alternatives.

If you haven’t voted yet, GO! There’s still time, even here on the East Coast!

SALE! Everything Must Go!

Well, not EVERYTHING. It’s print-on-demand, so they won’t be selling out any time soon. But hey, let’s pretend. Either way, it’s a big sale on some mighty great Kindle editions.

First is Secret Agent Manny, which is on sale until Saturday, September 7. Grab a measly 99¢ out of your bank account (plus tax) and the Kindle edition can be YOURS … immediately! If you’re into instant gratification, then click on over and start reading in seconds! I’m so excited for you!

Just 99¢ until Saturday, September 7!

And … hold onto your hats! To celebrate the arrival of the second book in the Red Ink Mysteries series (The Tell-Tale Heart Attack), I’ve knocked the price of the first in that series, The Scarlet Letter Opener, down to … [drum roll] …

FREE … until Thursday, September 5!

Big Sale Next Week!

Procrastination PAYS OFF!

If you’ve been lollygagging around and haven’t ordered Secret Agent Manny or The Scarlet Letter Opener (book 1 in the Red Ink Mysteries series) yet, next week is your lucky day! (Wait, whut?)

From Sept. 1–7, Secret Agent Manny will be just 99¢ for the Kindle edition!

From Sept. 1–5, The Scarlet Letter Opener will be FREE! If you’re itching to read The Tell-Tale Heart Attack (book 2), now you can grab the first book in this series next week for FREE!

No need to set a reminder on your phone (although, hey, I’m not gonna stop you). I’m sure I’ll inundate you with reminders all next week. That’s how much I care.

Yoo hoo! Is this thing on?

I have been chained to my desk so long now that I’m starting to feel like a character in a depressing Charles Dickens novel. If a bunch of orphans in ratty clothes start gathering around me and singing in Cockney accents, I’ll know it’s time to find a way out of this home office.

Until then, though, let me do a brief run-down on my summer:

1. editing The Tell-Tale Heart Attack to death. It’s the second novel in The Red Ink Mysteries series. It nearly gave me a heart attack just trying to finalize this project and get it out the door. But, as of last week, OUT the door it went! If you haven’t read the first book, The Scarlet Letter Opener, that’s a fun place to start. I cut my teeth on mystery writing with that first one—and it’s kind of “mystery lite,” for lack of a less derogatory term. This second book was a lot more fun to write. Half the time even I didn’t know whodunnit. (Oh, that first book smells like it’s time to go on sale. Be on the lookout for that sale in a week or two.)

2. going on yet another cruise with the hubster. He wanted to enter Carnival’s big Grand Blackjack Tournament to see what that’s like, and since he won a free entry back in December, well, there we were, on another cruise ship in May. Great fun … but not a good time of year for me to be away from the desk for a week. (You know, the one I’m currently chained to.)

3. attending the St. Davids Christian Writers’ Conference in June. The yearly trek to Grove City, Pa., was (as usual) like a big writer-family reunion. Crazy-good fun with crazy-good people. As a board member, I had a lot of tasks to complete before conference started, including doing the booklet layout in time to have printed copies ready to take with me. There’s nothing quite like late nights, jazzed up on caffeine, gathering faculty data and troubleshooting layout issues with Amazon! I’m kidding: there are a LOT of things just like it, but most of them involve torture or stints in hell. And speaking of typesetting …

4. typesetting books for everybody but me. It’s a good thing I enjoy typesetting book interiors, because I’ve been doing those in my sleep lately. Some were for friends (we’re all debuting new books at Beaver County BookFest next month). Others were for a great cause and hobby of mine: TYPEWRITERS. You can pick up these amazing TYPEWRITTEN anthologies of what a non-digital world might look like here: Paradigm Shifts (which happens to also contain a story of mine) and Escapements. Both books are bargain-basement-priced, in order to get them into as many hands as possible. These projects were a labor of love. And although I thoroughly enjoyed working on them, squeezing these projects in after that crazy cruise was the result of copious amounts of caffeine and lots of loud grunge music at all hours.

5. outlining and planning six new, shorter books in an upcoming new cozy mystery series, under a pen name! It’s been great fun finding a voice through my alter ego, Muriel Preston, who apparently writes cozies (shorter ones than I’ve been writing, so they’ll be churned out a lot faster). Her first series will be the Totally Tech series. Six covers ready to go!

6. heading back east soon for a few days of visiting family and outlining the six Muriel Preston cozies. Apparently I’m going to unchain myself from this desk, then drive six hours to the other end of Pennsylvania, only to chain myself to a completely different desk. Hey, whatever works! I love road trips.

Once the autumn kicks in (not a moment too soon for me), things don’t slow down. I’m staring at Beaver County BookFest in early September, the AAUW Kitchen Tour in late September, a trip to West Virginia for a big book festival in early October (as an attendee this time), the yearly gathering of typewriter nerds (also in West Virginia) in late October, a few board meetings, and …

wait …
wait …

WHAT YEAR IS IT??

Who is Muriel Preston?

She’s younger than I am.
She’s prettier than I am.
And thinner. Much thinner.
She has gorgeous long hair, flawless skin, beautiful blue eyes, and keeps her nails long but still manages to type a lot faster than I do.

She drinks espresso shots throughout the day, listens to smooth jazz, used to be a chain-smoker until she quit cold-turkey about ten years ago, and joins the gym every January, though she stops showing up at all by March.

She’s been married—twice—but both times realized the guy was just too big a distraction from her work. Each of the men wasn’t surprised when she left. They’re all still good friends, and on rare occasions she’ll take them both out to dinner or a movie. At the same time. Then they all get creeped out about it and don’t have any contact for at least six months.

She is an enigma wrapped in a conundrum.
I, on the other hand, am a conundrum wrapped in bacon.

—

So, who is this mysterious Muriel Preston?

Well, okay… she’s me.

Starting this winter, the not-so-mysterious, nothing-like-me, completely fictitious Muriel Preston will start churning out light, short cozy mysteries. Just because she can.

My own cozy mystery series, The Red Ink Mysteries, is now officially two books long. (The Tell-Tale Heart Att ack is finally available, folks.) The third book, Charlotte’s Website, is due out by Christmas.

But our new friend Muriel? She’ll be churning ’em out a lot faster. She has nothing better to do, after all. She lives for her work. Lucky for me.

Her first series, the Totally Tech Series, will contain five separate quick reads. I’ll update here as these become available. For now, take a gander at her tentative titles:

More Random Shopping Lists

I found two more grocery lists left in shopping carts in the past week. One was completely drenched because it had been left in a cart out in the rain, but I grabbed it anyway and let it dry out on the floor of my car before trying to read it. THAT, my friends, is how dedicated I am to this ridiculous, stupid hobby.

That list, though, proved to be nothing special:

Toilet Paper
Milk
eggs
Cereal
spag sauce [The handwriting was so bad I thought this said “spay savoy” at first.]
pasta
bread
bilogna [sic]

Meh. Nothing to write home about… or, nothing to write at home and then take to the store about.

The one I’d found earlier that week was a little more interesting:

2 honey mustard
2 Distilled water
2 Lem. Gatorade
Celery
2 Dental floss
2 Green tea

I haven’t figured out why this person needed two of everything… except the celery. Perhaps because celery comes in a bunch of many stalks (usually more than two). As usual, I tried to imagine the sort of project or meal someone was in the middle of concocting before he or she realized they’d run out of these things. In which case, the dental floss threw me off a little bit.

Still, if I had my choice, I’d rather be invited to the first person’s house for dinner. I love spaghetti, and I could even stay overnight and have a breakfast of eggs or cereal. Heck, I’ll even show up early and we can make bologna sandwiches for lunch. (I’ll assume the toilet paper is just a basic necessity in this case.)

But that second list? I can’t think of any beverage or smoothie or meal that would turn out good using those ingredients, no matter what other ingredients are already at your house waiting for you. I’ll pass. Thanks anyway.

Maybe the dental floss is to get the celery strings out from between your teeth.

Oh well. I’m still hoping to find that perfect shopping list: ax, rubber gloves, bleach, large trash bags, Luminol… But until then, my search for the story created from the perfect serial killer* shopping list continues…

—

*as opposed to “cereal killer”

Fifteen Seconds of Fame…

I realize the saying is usually “fifteen minutes of fame,” but in my case, it was closer to fifteen seconds. Give or take two seconds. I wasn’t exactly timing it. I was too busy floating in a surreal world of Cloud Nine Dreams Come True.

My friend Amy and I were minding our own business in the front row of “Weird Al” Yankovic’s Strings Attached concert here in Pittsburgh last night. I had already warned Amy that I would sing along with every single song, unapologetically. It’s just how I roll. And, I did. Every. Single. Word. Of Every. Single. Song.

I’d given Amy homework before the concert: memorize both “The Saga Begins” and “Yoda,” because Al does those two songs as an encore at every concert and everyone sings along. And he did not disappoint us. The audience sang along on all the choruses (and most of the verses) of both songs. First “The Saga Begins” …

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(Photo courtesy of @AmyJMable)

Then “Yoda.” Near the end of “Yoda,” Al turned the microphone to the audience and told us to sing. And we all belted out a chorus of “Yoda” together with gusto.

Then, without warning—with his accordion still strapped to his chest and the microphone in his hand—he knelt down and crept over the wires at the front of the stage. I could see him headed my way with that microphone sticking out as the audience wrapped up its group-chorus… and… and…

Oh my gosh… was he headed toward ME with that thing??

Then, he yelled into the microphone, “NOW JUST HER!” and pointed it right at my nose. I saw my life flash before my eyes as I used that split-second to decide whether to curl up and die in an introverted heap, or to boldly go where I had never gone before (that is, singing solo in front of 3,000 strangers, right in front of my favorite musician ever).

Should I belt out an entire chorus of “Yoda” all by myself? Or should I live in regret and despair forever? Guess which one I chose. No, really, guess. I’ll wait.

Have you guessed yet?

I even did my own conducting at the end…

It was perhaps the most glorious fifteen seconds of my life. And I might even include the births of several of my children and at least one of my weddings in that assessment. But I won’t say which ones.

Poor Amy froze. Although she’d been surreptitiously taking a picture here and there (just like everyone around us), there just wasn’t time for her to unfreeze, get her phone ready, and snap a picture.

So where did these candid pictures come from? Well, you see, there was this VIP after-party…

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…where we all chatted and made new friends while we waited to get our photo taken with Al. There was classical music playing and there were battery-operated candelabras on the tables. Stormtroopers and Darth Vader entertained us.

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Al even bought us all pizza!

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Meanwhile, I was teasing poor Amy about having not captured my moment of glory for posterity. (She endured it with grace. I would’ve smacked me into next Tuesday, but Amy is lovely and forgiving, unlike me.) She began asking around while we were in line for our photo op, and since “Weird Al” fans are some of the nicest people I’ll ever meet, we found someone further down the front row who had taken three photos of my fifteen seconds of fame, one Jeff McClelland by name. (That’s one picture every five seconds for all you fellow English majors out there.)

Keep reading. It gets weirder.

I exchanged cell phone numbers with a beautiful friend of Jeff’s, and she said she’d text me the photos today. And… she did. And… I squealed with delight.

And… it turns out Mr. McClelland designed the AWESOME Pittsburgh concert poster for this tour (all VIPs received a 16×24 copy of this poster, individually numbered), and mine will be framed and hanging in my office by the end of this week. It’s a great mix of “Weird Al” Yankovic meets Andy Warhol.

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[@JeffMcClelland]

I need to keep thanking Jeff McClelland (and his friend Brianne [@DellaandLila], who was the catalyst for these photos to get to me and who, as it turns out, is a children’s book author—see? I told you it got weirder), but I don’t think there is enough gratitude in the world for going the extra mile to get these to me.

And, of course, thank you to Mr. Yankovic, for not only entertaining us last night, but for providing me with decades of entertainment that got me through some very dark times. You, sir, are a gem.