Post every Sunday. 

Ha.

Ha ha.

 HAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!!

 As you can see, that failed in June.

 But I am back again.

 Yes, yes, cheering is in order.

 *Bows grandly*

 Thank you, peasants. 

A goose

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Did you know one of our tags is Geese? I don't even remember reading a post involving geese, but it's there. I'm looking right at the tag. 

Maybe I should use it, since it has probably only been used once and I bet Ben was the one who used it.

Since I don't remember writing about geese.

So, this isn't so much about geese but one goose.

A very dashing goose.

A very dashing goose I once danced with.

Don't worry, it's not as weird as it sounds. He was dead at the time.

Shot. With a broken neck on impact.

A friend of ours had gone geese hunting and gave us some of them.

We were supposed to clean them and cut the good meat out so we could eat it.

I don't know why I started to dance with him.

It runs in the family though, my dad did it when he was a boy.

Guess I just wanted to carry on tradition.

The goose wasn't that bad of a partner though, broken neck and all.

There, now I've used the geese tag again.

That is all.

Jim

Friends

A summary of me and my friends.

It's true and they know it

Walking in a Winter Wonderland

Bet ya can't guess what it's doing here today.

Look...Post!!!!!

 I'm so bad at this, but look...A POST! FROM JIM! *Faints from shock.* There, there. It's okay. You'll make it.

 Why hasn't Jim posted, you might ask? Simple....I'm a writer, therefore I don't write. It's like being a construction worker and not finishing roads.  Or an officer worker and leaving a pile of papers on your desk every day. Like being Tintin and never writing a news paper report but still calling himself a reporter.

 But I'm writing now. And I plan to do a post every Sunday. So be impressed and in awe of me.

 Because Jim has little to say?

 Why? Because Jim is a Hobbit and has yet to have Dwarves roll into her house so she's not yet gone on an adventure.

 And Jim also wants dinner.

 Because food.

 Normally I'd have something witty to say, but it's the middle of NaNo. NaNo saps all my wit and sucks it into my books. So while my characters sound clever I wave at people I pass at work and say things like, "Day is good."

 In other words, don't ask me to over exert any extra brain power, because I have none left.

 What I do have is a 50,000 word book I can proudly display. Or not so proudly until it is edited, because no one proudly shows off their unedited NaNo book. Unless they are the Emperor's New Groove movie. Unedited NaNo story at its finest.

 Speaking of which, John, Sammy, and Clara want the computer so they can catch up their word count. So I have to go, but don't be afraid. Because I is back!!!!!!!!!!

 Jim the Space Adventurer 

AVM Blog Party!

Ben here! I am hosting a Musical Blog Party on my Other Blog  This Blog has been open for Guest Posting!!! Our Guest today is a Miss Christine Eyre. Thank you so much for participating, Christine. I'll give you the stage now :-)

*Claps as Christine takes the spot-light.* 

Day 2—A musical you have a love/hate relationship with

Hoo boy. This was a small challenge, because I tend to love a musical (The Phantom of the Opera, Jane Eyre, A Tale of Two Cities) or dislike it (Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers [those just aren’t my type]). Mixed feelings about musicals are rare.

But one musical does merit this complicated emotion: The Music Man (1962 film). At first, I fully disliked it, and still dislike several aspects, but sometimes musicals just have to grow on me. I’ll end with the reasons why I like it so as to finish on a positive note.

Oh, and before I explain what I dislike, please know that I’m not trying to offend anyone or squash a favorite musical into poor, sad pulp. 

So here’s what I dislike:

The worst turn-off in The Music Man is the manipulation. Manipulation drives me nuts, which is one reason I dislike many “comedy” TV shows. Maybe the story wasn’t trying to justify Harold Hill’s behavior, but some of his slick moves were played for humor. I don’t understand this is supposed to be funny. It shows a lack of logic on both sides, and a lack of integrity in the character of Professor Hill.

The prime example of this manipulation problem is the song “You’ve Got Trouble.” It’s a catchy song, but not as fun as it is frustrating to me.

Hey, calm down and quit throwing rotten oranges! (Tomatoes are boring.) What’s frustrating is the number of logical fallacies in Professor Hill’s “argument”. He creates a fear and then plays on it, a fallacy called, naturally, “appeal to fear,” and one that uses fear of what might happen as the only basis for doing something. Harold Hill also calls the pool table a forerunner to corruption, which is the “slippery slope” fallacy, one that assumes a chain of disastrous events will follow X insignificant action. And Professor Hill’s “signs of corruption” have nothing to do with the pool table. This fallacy is called “after this; therefore, because of this,” which assumes that because the kid had a nicotine stain on his index finger after the pool table came in, said pool table must have caused an interest in cigarettes.

The underlying problem is that Harold Hill doesn’t have an argument founded on facts and reason. So he can only prophecy dire consequences of tolerating the pool table—and the whole town buys the argument (or lack of it), except Marian.

Speaking of Marian, I dislike the ending of her character arc. In Act I, she is cautious (though cold) toward Harold Hill, refusing his romantic overtures and entertaining sensible skepticism toward his schemes. She stuck to her standards for a future spouse, even when her mother pressures her to consider Harold Hill as a suitor. Which is why it drives me nuts when, in Act II, she drops all those standards and gets enamored with Professor Hill even after she knew that he’d lied to the town. I—I—I—what?!?! There went my respect for her, and it’s incredibly frustrating to lose respect for any story character.

But the musical did grow on me, and I came to like several aspects. The music is catchy, for one thing, and some of the songs are fun, such as “76 Trombones,” “Lida Rose/Will I Ever Tell You? “and “Marian the Librarian”.

In fact, “Marian the Librarian,” is my favorite song—it’s fun, the choreography is cool, and I totally relate to her annoyance with the interrupted library work.  And though Marian changes in the second act, I really liked her character in the first act: she was sensible, hardworking, tried to encourage intelligence and open minds, and put up with gossip and scorn.

Also, some parts of the musical were hilarious without requiring manipulation for laughs—such as, the mayor getting his words mixed up (“Not one poop out of you madam!”) and the Independence Day exercises in the school gymnasium. And the ladies doing upright posture exercises when their “dance” required them to bend over!

Speaking of dancing, The Music Man has some amazing choreography. The dancers made it all look so easy. “Madame Librarian” had some fun dancing in it, but “76 Trombones” probably has the best.

And I liked the end of Harold Hill’s character arc: he (spoilers!) comes clean, confesses that he’d been misleading the town, and explains the truth to the kid who looked up to him. Professor Hill also led the band as he’d promised to do.

So, The Music Man. Definitely a love-hate relationship, but it grew on me to the point that if a sibling puts it on, I’ll probably sit down and watch it. 

That's all for now folks. Share your thoughts in the comments! Thank you again, Christine, for blogging. Hope to see you again! 

BEN.

The Incredibly Unlikely and Practically Impossible Adventures Concerning Two Girls, A Ship of Pirates, A King and Jester, A traveling Musical Company and Butterflies

MY TURN!

Chapter Two: Concerning a treasure chest and a phone call

Ring, ring

Jim didn't like answering the phone. She glanced up from her book and quickly scanned the room. She hoped to see Ben, and hoped to talk Ben into answering it.

Ring, ring.

Jim wouldn't say she was particularly scared of answering the phone. She didn't have a phobia against it, but something close enough to pass.

RING, RING

She just didn't like to talk to people when she couldn't see them face to face.

RING, RING

Really didn't like it.

RIIIIIIIIIIING, RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!!!

At all.

RING! RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Then again, sometimes the phone refused to be understanding.

Closing her book, which she'd been thoroughly enjoying, Jim left her sprawled out position on the couch and picked up the phone's ear piece. She then spoke into the mouth piece, for obvious reasons.

“Hello. Jim Hillenbrand.”

Silence, followed by a whispered convention, then, “You're a girl.”

Jim leaned against the wall beside the mounted phone. “I am,” she agreed.

“Are you aware of the fact your name is Jim?”

She'd had to explain this more than once and had gotten rather good at it. “Yes. My mother's name was Alice and my father's was Gerry. His father's name was Bill and my mother's mother's name was Sue. And I'm Jim.”

Another pause. Another round of a whispered convention. “Makes sense. So, listen, it says in the yellow pages that you and your cousin Ben are the last living relatives of your uncle, is that true?”

Jim tugged on one of her braids. “It says all of that in the yellow pages?”

“I have the updated version. Is it true?”

Jim nodded, then remembered one couldn't be seen through phones. Which was really rather sad. With space travel happening, and teleports and flying ships and phonographs small enough to fit in your pocket one would think they would have invented phones you could see through by this point in time.

Oh well, what do I know? I'm an Author, not an inventor.

Jim: Who are you? (She asked this of a middle aged man who wore a brightly plaid vest and had a pen stuck behind his ear. He had just suddenly appeared and he looked up in sudden surprise because, another obvious moment, he wasn't used to being addressed like this.)

Random person who has yet to introduce himself: Oh dear, I've gone and told myself into the story again, haven't I?

Jim: Story? And you didn't answer my question.

Random Person who now gets his title in capital letters: Sorry, you're right. I haven't. See, I'm the Narrator of this story. It is my job to sit on the other end of the story and type down everything that happens in the Plot.

Jim: The Plot. That sounds rather exciting.

Narrator: (In other words ME): Oh it is, the Plot is the best thing that can ever happen in a story.

Jim: What is Plot?

POOF!

The man with the vest vanished in a puffy cloud of white smoke. Jim blinked and realized the person on the phone was still talking.

“Are you there? Are you listening to me? Hello! HELLO! I am not used to being ignored.”

“Sorry.” Jim tugged on her braid. “I thought I saw a Narrator.”

“What's a Narrator?”

Jim shrugged and completely forgot about Narrators. “Who are you?” she asked the person on the other end of the phone.

“Sir Isaac.” There was a puffy Breath of Importance. Not the same as a puffy cloud of white smoke, but close enough.

“Who now?”

The puffy Breath of Importance deflated. “Sir...Isaac...”

Jim had a prickly feeling that the man expected her to know his name. She felt bad and blamed it on a thing called LACK OF LUNCH.

“I don't think I know you.”

She tried to let him down gently. Instead he crashed and had his ego injured, which hurts no matter what you are told otherwise.

“I'm a famous pirate.”

Jim squealed. “Really?! I've never met a famous pirate before!”

Nothing fixes a injured ego like a moment of flattery. “Well, we do tend to keep to ourselves. When we meet up I will sign your shoe if you like.”

Jim looked down and realized she was barefoot. “Meet up?” she asked.

Sir Isaac turned stern, which is not at all like turning a pancake over to let the other side cook.

“We have your uncle locked up and shall undergo vile torture methods unless you bring his Beloved Treasure to our ship TONIGHT!”

“What?!” Jim gasped and squeaked and slapped a hand over her mouth and one over her heart. Because that is the proper reaction for when your uncle has been kidnapped by a famous pirate you've never heard of.

When she freed one hand, the one from her heart, she picked up the phone's ear piece. “But...but...”

“TONIGHT!”

Jim tried to be brave. “I don't think it would be good to meet on your ship. You might kidnap Ben and I.”

“It is Ben and me. Where do you want to meet?”

Jim thought. “Our house?”

“NO! You might capture myself and my pirates! By the way, see how much nicer that sounds?”

In spite of her worry Jim had to admit the pirate had a nice form of expressing himself and placing his words.

“How about a random place then?”

“How do we pick it?”

“Put a map on the floor and throw a knife and where it lands is where we will met,” Jim decided.

Of course this was done, along with someone shouting about his toes and Sir Isaac's bad throwing skills, and then the location was given. But since it wasn't exactly nearby Sir Isaac said she and Ben could have more than one day to get there. They set the date for two days from the day they talked and then they hung up.

And then Jim dropped her book and ran to get her cousin.