Super-Secret Hidden Fun Page!

That’s right. You’ve reached the Novel Idea Super-Secret, Hidden Fun Page. Congratulations! You’ve proven yourself to be techno-savvy, on the cutting edge of what’s hip, trendy, and kewl. So while we can’t show this page to just everybody (the Great Unwashed need not apply), you, by virtue of your willingness to be out there in front, a technology leader, and early adopter, etc., etc., etc., we’re providing you with some super-secret cool stuff to look at, think about, and enjoy.

Now remember, not everybody is invited to the Super-Secret, Hidden Fun Page. And it will ruin it for all the other members if you go blabbing about as to how you got here. So don’t. Keep your trap shut and enjoy. On the other hand, we’re not at all opposed to you lording it over your minions, that you figured out how to get here and they didn’t. As long as you’re not too snarky about it. I mean, who doesn’t enjoy a good gloat now and then. But enough’s enough. Don’t make a Federal case out of it.

Okay, enough preamble. Here’s the rules. The stuff on this page are things I like/enjoy/ruminate about. They may change at any time. Check back periodically to see what, if anything, is new. (They’ll be a test later.) See anything you like, lemme know.

My favorite short joke:

This is a joke guaranteed to tick off PeTA, and it’s the shortest joke I know. But you have to pay close attention, because it goes by sooo fast. Ready? Here goes…

A baby seal walks into a club.

That’s it. That’s the joke. Funny, huh?

A fun fact to know and bloody well keep to yourself about me:

I tell most everybody that I’m allergic to salads. Which is silly. Nobody’s allergic to anything in a salad. Well, maybe the bread crumbs. But still. But I AM allergic to being force-fed pretty much anything. Which is why I don’t eat salads and have a revulsion that borders on nausea and vomiting if somebody puts a salad in front of me.

I’m a huge fan of:

• Blackadder
• Monty Python
• cleavage
• pies – cherry, apple, pumpkin, blueberry…
• tall, intelligent women with a wicked wit
• the Breedlove Northwest Classic guitar
• the Musser Pro 55 Vibe
• Macs
• Ayn Rand. Despite the fact that she was an atheist. Love her books. Atlas Shrugged changed my life.
• The U.S. Constitution

A few biographical details you won’t find anywhere else:

• I started playing drums when I was 4 years old. I wasn’t allowed to turn “pro” until I was 15, but I was playing professionally long before then.
• I fought studying piano and mallet instruments when I was a kid. I regret that now. At least I paid attention in music theory class. Not that I had a choice.
• I didn’t start playing guitar until I was 21. And it wasn’t because I wanted to. It was because every guitar teacher my dad hired at his studio turned out to be massive flakes. I mean Tony the Tiger is less flaky than those bunch of clowns. He was gonna shut down the guitar department, but I convinced him that guitar couldn’t be that hard to learn (after all, those guys could do it). So I taught all the guitar students music theory while I learned enough to be able to fingerpick and strum, and got enough chords down to be able to play a couple of dozen songs. Took about two weeks. (Told you paying attention in music theory class was fortunate.) I’ve been playing ever since. Although, I should probably be better than I am for how long I’ve been playing.
• Everybody asks “how many instruments do you play?” I don’t really know. I guess it depends on how you define “play.” I play drums very well, if I do say so myself. Acoustic guitar, too. Electric? I do fine on rhythm, but my lead skills leave much to be desired. I play a little harmonica, but I know enough to sell it to make it sound as if I play more than I actually do. I can hold my own on vibes, and latin percussion is muy bueno. I do okay on bass, but I don’t really consider myself a bass player. Ditto for keyboards. I can get by. Then there’s “all the rest of the stuff.” I can make music with a 4- or a 5-string banjo, a ukelele, recorders, autoharp (who couldn’t?), xylophone, marimba, bells, celeste, tympani, Dobro, organ, melodica, and a bunch of whistles, sound effects thingys, and such. An exact count depends on how you define “instrument,” how you want to count them, and how you define “play.” I can play some banjo, for instance. Earl Scruggs, I’m not.
• I do character voices. A lot of them. Mostly cartoon voices, for some reason. Dunno why.
• I’ve been told I have a very dry sense of humor.
• When you hear me whistle absent-mindedly, it’s usually a ‘tell.’ In other words, if you know the song or something in the lyrics, you’ll have a clue as to what I’m thinking. I usually don’t realize I’m doing this. But sometimes, with people I know well, it’s a way for me to communicate through a backchannel. Not exactly “windtalker” stuff like the Navajo language used in WWII, but it can be fun.
• I never played any serious sport (other than tennis) as a kid, because my dad was scared I’d get hurt and not be able to play music. Probably a good call on his part.
• I write for a gun blog. Came kinda late to the gun party. Didn’t buy my first handgun until I was almost 50.
• I’m a very good shot. Threatening the lives or safety of my family would be a very bad idea for any scumbag who might think that’s an option. We’ll leave it at that.
• I’m fascinated by technology. But I’m not a slave to it. Unless it’s useful, the “cool factor” always wears off.
• I like to study paradigm shifts. They offer opportunity for savvy, creative people to make money.
• Marketing comes down to telling stories. Which is largely bullshitting for a living. It’s not who has the best product or service. It’s who tells the best story. Believe it.
• I once wrote a love song in less than 20 minutes. It’s a really nice song. Ask me sometime, and I’ll play it for you.
• I have serious doubts that Lee Harvey Oswald was the only shooter at Dealey Plaza that November day in 1963. I don’t doubt he shot the President. Or could have been the lone shooter. I just suspect he was part of a larger plot. And I think Oliver Stone’s movie was pure ka-ka.