Sunday, July 8, 2012

Before I Danced on the Ceiling, There Were the Sixties

The late 1960s and early 1970s brings back memories of my involvement in the music world. I remember telling Jimi Hendrix to give up the tuba and play guitar instead. His tuba rendition of “The Star Spangled Banner” and “Foxy Lady” were fantastic yet at the end  of his concerts he was try and set his tuba on fire. It just would not burn.nHe never quite mastered the guitar as he had the tuba, but he did alright.

I remember after one concert I told John Lennon and Paul McCartney about my time travel abilities and how, in the future, big names in music was be Madonna and Lady Gaga, and wouldn’t you know it, they sat right down and right a song entitled “Lady Madonna”? They initially entitled it “Gaga Madonna” but I thought “Lady Madonna” sounded better.

I missed Woodstock. I was in junior high school at the time and had an oral report to give. Plus I heard that traffic was bad and the place was getting muddy.

Not every contribution to music that I did worked out. I told William Shatner he should record his version of the song “Rocket Man”. I was just kidding. Actually, in retrospect, it is not that bad a song...nah, who am I kidding?

I tried convincing The Fifth Dimension to change their name because there are more than five dimensions, but they didn’t listen to me. Well, it is on them for being scientifically incorrect.

I told the Jackson Six that they would be better without Cousin Elwood’s off key falsetto. Sorry, Elwood, but I do believe I was right.

I do hate it when song writers put my personal experiences into the songs. I find myself often having to make corrections to what they wrote. I shot a man in Reno, yet he as a foreign spy about to assassinate one of our agents. I only watched to make sure he was dead. I did not leave the cake out in the rain and I did not lose the recipe. Joe DiMaggio hadn’t gone anywhere, and I never said he was missing. I never once said “In a Gadda Da Vida”, I said “you gotta see this Danny DeVito.” Yes, my chewing gum loses its flavor on the bedpost overnight, please stop asking.

My biggest regret was breaking up the Beatles. I did not do it intentionally. All four kept asking me for music advice and it got so much I told them I couldn’t work with all four of them. I told Ringo he would do much better on his own, and things sort of when downhill from there. I thought they could always give Pete Best a ring and have him drum while Ringo went out on a solo career. It seems once Ringo left, John quit, then Paul, and then George, realizing all the others had quit, quit. At one point we were thinking of bringing back the Beatles with Pete Best, Eric Clapton, Jimi Hendrix, and Boxcar Willie, but that didn’t pan out either.

I also misjudged the return of barbershop quarters. I thought for certain they would outsell acid rock, but I got that one wrong. There was one barbershop quarter that did a fantastic cover of Pink Floyd songs but they never took off, either. I guess there is no understanding the musical tastes of the public at times.

Saturday, July 7, 2012

Come Fly With Me, But Not in My Soup

I hate it when people mistake my private hover jet for an unidentified flying object, or UFO. Let me be clear, If it is shape like an oblong with flashing landing lights and can hover above the ground and then take off at the speed of light, it is my private hover jet, If if moves slowly and barely seems to know where it is flying, it is an spacecraft from another planet.

It has been my pleasure to help introduce advance aeronautical techniques to cultures from other planets. I do so reluctantly because I do not know the cultures of the planets from which they came, and I fear that those cultures that wasted so much effort on such disappointing spacecraft are probably the cultures that should not be encouraged to promulgate. I do have to express sorrow at seeing their miserable crafts and out of sympathy I have shared some technologies so they may at least get back safely in time to receive our transmissions of “I Love Lucy” broadcasts. Believe me, Lucy has universal appeal.

I try to minimize disrupting people’s fears when they see my private hover jet that they are seeing a UFO. Of course, to them, it is a UFO, although I believe a good number of people who claim they have seen a UFO also could not identify a Boeing aircraft, a weather balloon, a balloon reading “Happy Birthday” released by a child, a helicopter, or a napkin floating in the air. Therefore, I try to mostly make inconspicuous landings in swamps, where I then take my underground fast rail to where I wish to go. Yet there are a few people in the swamps who, assisted with some swamp alcohol (I am not certain I want to know what they ferment in the swamp and then drink) who then have to call the local press and say they say a UFO, It bothers me when the actual spacecraft from other planets are able to fly around unnoticed more than I am able. I guess the spacecraft lumber around so slowly and errantly that most people just assume it is a US Airways flight.

It is my concern, in sharing space flight technology with alien pilots and flight attendants (never ask a Zorkan flight attendant for an extra napkin: if just isn’t done) that they could return and use my technology and advances in their technology to return and conquer Earth. First, stop being so homo centric, which has nothing to with homosexuality, you filthy minded readers. Most cultures from other planets are more interested in the two thirds of our planet that is water and they find aquatic life far more interesting than our boring lives, Yet, just in case someone has evil designs, I have secretly placed a device in their technologies that not only would disintegrate their abilities to continue yet would destroy them. Fortunately, while it does seem that motion pictures are correct that English is a universal language, I have discovered that aliens can only speak it but can’t read or write it. So, no one tell them, and we’ll be fine, Just a precaution,

Surprisingly, I have attempted to share my technology on hover jet and travel to other planets in distant Suns (and nearby Suns, there actually are a few decent planets close by) to the Defense Department. Yet every time I present this technology to them they are required to place the job out to bid and I always get underbid by some second rate entity such as Raytheon, those cheap bastards. Someday I will get my technology recognized!

Well, I have to run. Paris Hilton has had a few drinks too many and needs a ride home. Then I hate a dinner date with a Zorkan flight attendant, although I fear the dinner may get a bit messy.

Friday, July 6, 2012

About Time to Tell the Truth About Time

I was a slow learner. It wasn’t until the 4th grade that I discovered how to time travel. Can you believe my Science teacher only gave me a “B” grade for my time travel machine? Well, a few trips in the time travel machine took care of that and I finally got my “A”. Although it meant my original Science teacher was never born, so let that be a lesson to anyone who messes with me.

My time travel machine eventually caught on and I was quite popular through the United States. Yet it bothered me that the Confederate States of America was ignoring my time travel accomplishments. Yes, the Confederate States negotiated a treaty with President Lincoln that let them succeed from the Union after their victory at Gettysburg, their capture of Harrisburg, and then their capture of the District of Columbia.

I decided if I would not receive the proper respect I felt I deserved from the Confederate States, I would see that they lost at Gettysburg. I time traveled yet realized it was hard to remember all the details of the battle. Plus, it was a bit difficult to convince the Union Generals that I was a time traveler there to help them win, but a few stiff drinks solved that problem. I saw to it that the Union troops were moved from where I recalled Confederate cannon shelling occurred and I helped redirect Union troops to where Confederate troops would be. I also remembered when visiting Gettysburg where some good restaurants were, but that were not relevant in 1863.

Seeing that I changed the outcome of the Civil War, I then sought to see what else I could accomplish. I then saw to it that the Axis powers did not successfully conquer Europe ad Asia and that the Cubs did not win six World Series in a row. I felt good, yet with each growing respect I received for my time travel abilities, I realized that people regarded me only for my time travel and not for who I am as a person. I then time traveled back and made sure that people were unaware of my time travel abilities.

That is, until now. I do need to sell books, so I will let this secret out. Remember, if book sales are not sufficient to my liking, you may wake up discovering your life has been transformed into being a cashier in Kodiak, Arkansas. Oh, and if you are a cashier in Kodiak, Arkansas, you could have been the wealthiest person on the planet. Next time don’t overcharge me.

I have to admit that time traveling was fun. I do sort of regret killing off the dinosaurs by introducing them to television. They sort of lost all will to live after that. I did like that kid Albert Einstein and he seemed to appreciate those equations I gave him. What, how else can you explain that he could figure out things that were not discoverable until decades later?

Did you know automobiles ran on tracks so there would be few accidents? Well, I took care of that. Oh, and electric cars? I saw that gasoline powered cars won out over those electric embarrassments. I tried to kill 8 tracks, but after several trips, I just gave up. I knew that would die out on their own.

The world really needed a lot of straightening out. You should all be glad for my hard work, Did you know Tiny TIm was the largest selling recording artist in the 1960s? Did you know Richard Nixon was elected President? Wait, I think I forgot to change that one.

Sadly, my time travel machine finally broke. Do you know how hard it is to get parts for a time travel machine? I await the future me to return with new parts, but there seems to be some hold-up in shipment. Oh, well. I shall have to take this up with future me whenever future me decides to take the time and visit. You know how it is. The kids grow up and they seldom visit.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

You Bet Your Asbergers

Having learned that people think I have Asberger syndrome, which seems to mean I show no emotions when I eat burgers even though I do feel sorry for the cows, and the poor wheat plants used in the bread, whether or not I do have this, it lets me better understand how others regard or misregard (which is a regard that is not married) me. Even before people heard of Asbergers, there was some recognition that there were highly functional (or, in my case, moderate to low functioning) people who are “odd”, “misfits”, “politicians”, or “one card short of an elevator reaching the top”.

I have long been aware that people can take one look at me and judge me and reject me. I have known hundreds of women who have dated thousands of men who will not date me. Those who say they will do not appear at the first date. I am familiar with the very excuses of hair needing to be done (what is it about hair that is so traumatic that one cancels an appointment because it has become unsightly?), relative died, relate sick, relative died and then sick which makes me think this could have important religious consequence, and my favorite, someone else asked them out. That last one lacks tact, yet it has been used, which I suspect is useful information that I am even expected to be happy that the woman was able to find an even better prospect for a date than myself. Hurrah.

I used to think it was because I have a larger than normal nose. It did confuse me that larger nosed people are able to gain dates. Maybe my nose was too large yet not large enough. There could be a large nose fetish that does not qualify me while my nose is too large for those without the large nose fetish.

Now I wonder if people can sense Asberger types upon sight and immediately recoil. I do know people immediately recoil. Babies look at me and cry. Grown men look at me and cry. I will state that dogs seem to like me, and I don’t mean “dogs” as in unsociable women, I mean dogs as in the four legged type, and by that, I don’t mean unsociable women who crawl on all fours.  Dogs accept me, people not so much.

A dramatic example of this was when I took attended a screenwriters’ conference with several screenplays under my belt and a few more in my briefcase. A noted screenwriter professor (yes, there are such things, and don’t snicker if you took Basket Weaving in college) requested several ideas for scripts. A room of over one hundred people submitted their ideas. I was enthralled when this noted scholar (again, no snickering, this is actually a difficult type of writing and it is taught in some respectable colleges and in Internet scams) of screenplays put the best ideas on the board. Of the few he picked, the majority were mine. I felt enthralled realizing that someone else believed I had good movie ideas. My confidence was bolstered.

Another speaker taught us to pitch our ideas for movies. I listened intently and mentally prepared how to positively present strong ideas in a manner that would grab a producer’s attention. I prepared for every alternative. If a producer did not like an idea, I’’ll tell of another idea. If a producer seemed to like an idea but questioned aspects, I would attempt to adjust the idea to assure the producer that the idea is still worthwhile. After all, it is the producer’s money and the producer will be paying for the script.
Next, a real producer emerged to listen to our ideas. Each screenwriter was to pitch ideas until the producer said “next”. Once the producer declared “next”, the screenwriter was to walk away without complaint. I was all set. I stood in line and watched as screenwriter after screenwriter pitched ideas until the dreaded “next” was declared. I was confidant, though, knowing I had several of the best ideas there.I would pitch them as best as I could.

When it was my turn, the producer took one look at me and said “next”. Instead of walking away as I was expected to do, I presumed there had to be some mistake. “I haven’t said anything yet”, I stated. The producer looked at me and proclaimed “I can tell by looking at you that you have nothing of interest to say”. The producer then looked back at the line and repeated “next.

This is not the only example. I remember re-meeting a candidate for Governor. I at first was surprised when the candidate remembered me. He replied “of course I remember you. You’re the guy with the looks only a mother could love.” He lost the election. I saw to that, But that’s another story.

The serious problem is I have gone through life having experienced hundreds of job interviews and interviews for job promotions, in a few cases where I knew I was the best candidate in terms of performance, experience, academic background, and abilities, only to be rejected. I have been told on several occasions that I was the best candidate, but they found someone better. Those actual words were used. I never understood what that even meant.

I made the mistake of believing that hard work can make a difference. Sadly, in my personal experiences, I have learned there is no reward for hard work. I worked overtime, took work home, and produced more work than anyone else. I strove to produce quality work. I sought innovative ideas. I learned and improved upon more aspects of my work as possible. I believe I delivered much more than expected.

What I learned is that those with power over me use that power yet seldom wish to share that power. They may take credit for your work and instead of building an alliance with me for my abilities, they have turned against me in fear that I could either expose their false claims or perhaps fear I may rise above them (I can’t speak for the thinkings of others and must only speculate). I observed that their friends usually advance and that social networking is important. Unfortunately, the strange looking person working while others network isn’t permitted to join the network.

I find people see people with oddities and they attach their own interpretations as to how odd that person is. People create their own conclusions as to who I really am and the act to destroy the false person they have constructed. I have often noted the false reality they create of me is a reflection of their own perceived faults. People who created rumors of my sexuality often where themselves of that sexuality.

I am glad that my oddities lead me on the path that has allowed me to become an international superstar. I am able to move on, forget, and forgive the many people who took one look at me and refused to date me, hire me, promote me, or acknowledge my presence. I forgive those who acknowledged my presence and sought to harm it. I could care less if I see any of these people again. Yes, I know some believe believe the expression “I could care less” is incorrect because it literally implies one is able to have less affinity for the stated situation. I indeed mean I have some care for the situation and I could care less. In fact, I should care less. It should no longer bother me. So, to all who hurt me, all is forgiven. Just don’t take that forgiveness as an opening to ask to borrow money, I still don’t care that much.

Sunday, May 6, 2012

One of My Few Life Failures was Tabled

After successfully negotiating the still secret trade agreement with the Martians (fortunately they don’t mind that Twinkies are made of rocks and chemicals), President Nixon asked if I would help with a more difficult negotiation: peace in Vietnam with the People’s Republic of Vietnam, the People’s Republic of China, and some Republican people who were taunting us in the driveway. Our lead negotiator was Dr. Henry Kissinger from Columbia University, a secret university where all students are trained to either work for the Central Intelligence Agency, the State Department, or MacDonald’s (who frankly serve billions more people than do the CIA and the State Department).  Dr. Kissinger was previously noted for filling in for Peter Sellers during health problems when Sellers was filming “Dr. Strangelove.”
The meeting with the representatives from North Viet Nam, the Viet Cong, and Burger King (we had MacDonald’s on our side: Burger King went a different route) began ominously when Dr. Kissinger sneezed. The negotiating table was too close to an open window where pollen was entering.  The North Vietnamese representative declared that sneezing is a sign of weakness.  It was his theory that sneezing comes from a reaction from flaked skin and dandruff and that if one sneezed, it meant one was allergic to oneself. He insisted that he never sneezed, because his body was in full acceptance of who he was, as a man, namely a woman who looks wears dresses at night.  He argued that he (and she) never trusted a person who sneezed at what flaked from that person’s body. I tried to point to the ragweed, hay, cut grass, and strong perfume stand had all been strangely located by Bob's Big Boys associates (who we suspected we secretly aligned with Burger King, which is why today you find very few Bob's Big Boys left) in locations close to the open window.
We spent months just arguing over what  the negotiating table should be before we could begin negotiating. We wanted the table moved to the middle of the room. The Burger King representative wanted the table placed in a dark corner next to the kitchen, which made no sense especially since the kitchen staff sang off key Bob Dylan songs in a manner which ironically made them on key. 
Kissinger’s suggestion of bar stools and then bean bags were immediate rejected. The North Vietnamese delegation insisted we stand through the negotiations. We suggested they stand while we sit on massage chairs. They then insisted they get the massage chairs and we stand. We stated they could have the massage chairs if we could have the bar stools. This might have worked yet, unknown to us, the Viet Cong delegation had secretly sold the bar stools to pay a gambling debt with the Burger King delegation.  
The situation escalated when one of the North Vietnamese delegates hung a picture of Chairman Mao in the room. Dr. Kissinger and I thought it was actually a nice photo yet one of the other North Vietnamese delegates insisted on replacing the Mao Tse Tung picture with a picture of Leonid Brezhnez. Frankly, that photo had him in a bathing suit and was not a flattering photograph.  Then one of the North Vietnamese delegates hung up a face shot of Jane Fonda. Kissinger then hung up a poster of Jane Fonda in a bathing suit.  We all finally settled on the photo of Jane Fonda in a bathing suit.
After months of negotiating tables, chairs, photos, who is was that kept cutting the cheese, it was amazing that it then took us only seven minutes to negotiate an end to the Vietnam War.  Unfortunately, just as we were all about to sign it, everything feel apart.
The North Vietnamese representative sneezed. He left the room in shame, and the negotiations were off.

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

It Was All Watergate Under the Bridge

After the successful secret moon and Mars (that last bit of information is for later, you obviously would not be interested in reading all about that nor the subsequent enormous resulting trade in computer technologies with the Martians), President Nixon and I developed an enormous amount of mutual respect.      He was a man who cultivated that deep loyalty. When an aide stated he would run over his own grandmother to protect President Nixon, I too admitted I also run over that aide’s grandmother to protect Nixon.
We were putting the Martian technology to good use. I started a company we nicknamed DieVote which manufactured voting machines that protected the rights of dead voters to vote for Nixon. What better way to honor our past citizens, I say!  We rigged the machines so Nixon would defeat the wildly popular Georg McGovern by about 20 percentage points. Then, so no one would catch on to our scheme, we formed a bunch of fake pollster organizations that all reported Nixon had an enormous lead so no one would suspect anything was wrong with the machine results.   
Nixon’s fault was that he was enormous paranoid.  For fun, we used to scare him by sneaking up behind him and shouting things like “look, there’s Ted Kennedy” just to watch him jump.  Nixon wanted to make it a condition of his Supreme Court appointees that they would agree to award him the Presidency by Supreme Court order in case he lost the election.  I told him that was preposterous and that scenario could never possibly occur.
A positive attribute was that Nixon was just about the most honest person I ever met.  Why, if found a penny on the street, he would have the FBI get the fingerprints of the person whose penny it was, run the fingerprints through the FBI fingerprint data base, and return the penny to its rightful owner.  This really was not that cost effective and it did draw some Congressional scrutiny. So, after the penny was returned the person was then fined $50 for littering the penny.
One day Nixon came to me in a panic. He told me someone had found an incriminating tape in the files of the late J. Edgar Hoover.  (Technically, Hoover was not dead at that moment, but give it a day and the drug would have taken affect by then. But you don’t want to read about that.)  I started to explain that the tapes of me with Sophia Loren was perfectly innocent when I realized he did not mean those tapes.  It seems there was a film of Nixon getting Elvis Presley drunk enough to assassinate President Kennedy. Someone had mailed copies to CBS, NBC, ABC, and the Democratic National Committee.  We knew we controlled the television networks, so we were not worried about those tapes.  Yet we had never before considered the need to infiltrate and take control of the Democratic National Committee.  The Communist Party, yes. In fact, there were more FBI agents as voting members of the Communist Party than there were Communists in America.  Yet we had never even considered the need to control the Democrats, even though there also were more FBI agents than Democrats in America.
Now it is time for me to write the truth about Watergate. The reason the Nixon burglars were caught inside the Democratic National Committee was that they never could find the tape. They were in there for days. In fact, the Democratic National Committee staff came to work and helped them look for it.  No one could find it anywhere. The Democratic National Committee staff then let the burglars keep looking after hours and told the burglars to just lock up when they were done. The problem was a security guard did not know they were there, found them, called it in, and the rest is history.
Incidentally, the tape had been found by the leadership of the Democratic National Committee.  They thought it was an audition tape of Nixon, playing the prim and proper roommate to Elvis, playing the messy roommate, was hysterical.  They particularly enjoyed the scene where Elvis got so mad at Nixon he took out a gun and shot the TV set.  The Democratic National Committee sent the tape to Garry Marshall.
And that is how “The Odd Couple” came to become a TV series.

Saturday, April 28, 2012

I Was the First Human to Fly to the Moon and My Arms Were Tired

One of the benefits of the recent reductions at NASA is they have cutback the office that approves what people write about their NASA experiences to one 92 year old protected civil servant who is actually blind and just randomly decides what to approve.  Fortunately, this manuscript received approval and i am now able to disclose the truth about the moon landing.
For those who have seen the proof, you already know that the moon landing was faked. Neil Armstrong walked on a Hollywood set made to look like the moon,  This almost had a disaster when I noted the set designer included palm trees in the background.  Fortunately I spotted this and had them removed.
Neil later told me one of the crew hid a moon monster outfit on him and tried to run onto the set to attack Neil.   Some other crew members wrestled him to the ground before he could get into the shot.
What few people do not know is that while the world was watching the safe and sanitized version where success at landing on the moon was guaranteed to occur on a film set, NASA really was simultaneously launching a real spaceship to the moon.  In case it failed, the world would never know.  I am glad to report that the mission was a success. We sent two men to the moon who both walked on the moon and then safely returned to Earth, except for a minor face scrape because someone can’t remember to not fling floating meal trays across a cockpit (no names, but you know who you are, Jonathan).
I know this because I was on that flight. Even though I was 14 and fearing I was getting too old to pilot a spaceship (ironically, it seems spaceships to the moon are best piloted by children aged 13 below. We even printed that right on the spaceship packaging) it was felt I had the training, obviously had the intellect, and the alternative 12 year old pilot tested positive for heroin. 

The commander was Colonel Jonathan Winters.  Winters is a brilliant astrophysicist and pilot who uses a public persona of being a crazy comedian to throw international spies off the track as to his real abilities.  The mission went without a hitch, not counting Jonathan’s snoring.  
I may now tell the world that I was the first human to land on the moon while Jonathan Winters was the first human to walk on the moon.  I will explain. Jonathan was scheduled to go first and walk on the moon.  When we opened the door, Jonathan was walking down the steps when Lassie saw the door and ran out, tripping me, and causing me to fall onto the moon  So I was the first human to land on the moon, Jonathan was the first human to walk on the moon, and Lassie was the first Earthling on the moon.
Yes, one of the Lassies (I don’t know which one, one of them, there were several used on the TV show) was with us.  Even though Lassie was male, the spacesuit designers gave Lassie a pinkish feminine looking dog spacesuit.  Thus, Lassie was the first cross dresser on the moon.  (Don’t worry Jonathan, I’ll keep your secret about being the second.)
The rest of the mission was basically boring technical stuff. We gather several rock samples, take atmospheric samples, captured a few moon animals, and went back to the space ship.  We had to wait awhile because someone was enjoying chasing a stick and hopping all around. (Again, no names are being used here, Jonathan)  The flight back was uneventful, although Jonathan decided he wanted to visit Las Vegas on the flight back so we landed in the US Air Force landing strip on Area 51.  We still hear about that to this day.