Excitement Reigns! The Mummy's Curse™️ Board Game

THROWBACK THURSDAY

This was originally published in August 2021. I am re-publishing it here because the game Frank Holmes and Jill Mackie created and fine-tuned is deserving of a wider audience. Board games are back. Hence, we are seeking a publisher.

While visiting fine artists Frank Holmes and Jill Mackie, I was introduced to a unique board game called The Mummy's Curse™️. It has all the elements you want in a game, including that undefinable "cool" factor. I mean, who hasn't been fascinated by the Sphinx,  Great Pyramid and mummies at one time in their lives?

Like all the best games, The Mummy's Curse is a family board game that has been designed to be easy enough for kids yet interesting enough for adults. As you can see in the photos here there's a Sphinx, a Pyramid, a Golden Mummy, and a Curse. 

The goal, if you want to play, is to break the Curse by stealing the Mummy from its Burial Chamber in the Pyramid, then getting back safely to the Start/Finish with it. To achieve this players must equip themselves with Supplies and Answer a Question from the Sphinx.

Whereas the game is an entirely new entity, it has some traditional elements, such as moving pieces around the outside rim as in Sorry or Monopoly. As in Monopoly, which has Community Chest and Chance cards, this game also has a number of cards as follows.

The Sphinx's Questions are on cards (all different) that each player receives. The answer to a Question is on two other cards that rhyme with each other and with the Question. (The Sphinx is very clever.) The cards are drawn as players roll a die and move around the outer path. Answering the Question is your primary objective.

It is equally important to gather Supplies, which you can do by landing on a Supply square and rolling a certain number. When a player has Answered the Question and gathered the necessary Supplies, the player gets to present him or herself to the Sphinx, receive Amulets and proceed to the Pyramid.

While all this is going on, Eye cards are being drawn as well. Eye cards are valuable and allow players to do many things. For example, the Freeze card allows you to stop another player for two turns. The "Go Where You Want" card lets you do just that. The "Wild Card" lets you move one to six spaces without rolling the die. And then there's the "Help Yourself" card, a nasty little maneuver that allows you to take an Answer card or Answer Rhyme from another player. Finally there's a "Supply Grant!" card, which will assist you in getting the Supplies you need the most. 

The first player to reach the Pyramid lifts it from its place and sets it on its side. Underneath is a chart which is now visible. The Chart shows which supplies are required to traverse a labyrinth-like network of paths to reach the Burial Chamber. (Who doesn't like labyrinths?) Once there, the two sarcophagi must be removed to expose the Golden Mummy. Whoever lifts the inner sarcophagi gets to take the Mummy, as well as the special Blue Amulet it rests on... and to head for the Start/Finish.

This last dash, however, is not so easy. Other players want it and may take it by landing on whoever has it. (Don't despair. You can get it back.) The Mummy can also be lost to the Curse if a certain number, established in the Burial Chamber, is rolled. Amulets, including the special one, offer protection but it's a treacherous time. The Mummy is almost certain to change hands in this final phase of the game. You may be assisted by Eye cards here, if you have held on to them. Oftentimes players who thought they were without hope come back and win. 

Created and perfected in Narrowsburg, New York

To quote Sir Winston Churchill here: "Never, never, never, never give up." 

* * * 

One of my earliest published articles, and the first for which I was paid, was titled Make a Game of It. My theme was that teaching can be fun when we use a little creativity to make a game of it. Over the years I created a number of games myself, and it was fun to see the intriguing project Frank Holmes and Jill Mackie had concocted as you can see here.

"We've played it hundreds of times," Jill said, the primary aim being continuous improvement. 

If you're a board game publisher, contact me at ennyman3@gmail.com. This is a game that's ready for prime time. 

THE STORY

Frank and Jill get the ball rolling. 1988.

Long ago in very ancient Egypt, there ruled a pharaoh who cared more for gold than anything else in the world. He put a terrible curse of greed on his people, from which they suffered greatly, fighting amongst themselves for wealth and power. When he died his mummified body was wrapped in bands of gold and buried deep within a massive pyramid--to be guarded forever by an all-knowing sphinx.

Now, many centuries later, the dreadful curse still emanates from the pharaoh's tomb and greed has enveloped the entire world--you may have noticed it yourself! The only way to end this plague of avarice is to find the golden mummy and to take it from its chamber of evil power, away from the pyramid to, according to legend, the very place the curse began.

So, players, an exciting and ennobling experience awaits you. Prepare well and honor the sphinx's demands, which will allow you to enter the pyramid. Your task is not an easy one and pitfalls await--any or all of you may succumb to the debilitating effects of greed. Whatever happens, remember your one and only goal is to break the curse!

Related Links

Veteran Painter Frank Holmes Discusses His Prix de Rome and Life as an Artist

"Paintings Now & Before: Figures, Flowers, Landscapes" and an Introduction to Jill Mackie

My Two Favorite Super Bowl Ads Last Night

William Sydney Porter

120 years ago, William Sydney Porter made his mark as a writer by creating stories with a surprise twist at the end. We know him today as O Henry. My two favorite commercials last night had the same "Aha!" effect that O Henry was famous. 

The first, if you watched the commercials, followed a motif that a friend of mine shared with me several years back. Claude is from Switzerland, and I don't know if this ad made American airwaves or not, but it was memorable even if I never saw it. 

He was at a movie theater where they run commercials while the theater seats get filled. On the screen it looked like a Marlboro commercial was beginning. The angle of the camera was down low as the famous emblem for Marlboro cigarets came riding toward the audience on a horse.

Suddenly the camera switches to the river and we see a man in a rowboat, the mascot for Camel cigarets, Joe camel rowing toward the shore. The natural reaction would be, "Is this a Marlboro commercial or a Camel commercial?" As the camera follows the rowboat toward the shore we see both company mascots. What's going on here? 

Finally, they're near enough to talk and one says to the other, "By the way, what tooth whitener do you use?" The other replies, holds out a tube and they both affirm it's the best.  

Well, that tooth whitener commercial came to mind after I watched the Miller Lite and Coors bar fight. Is it a Coors commercial or a Miller commercial. Naturally, this are the big kahunas in the major U.S. brands beer brawl. It really had me going. I almost wondered if they were getting ready to announce that Anheuser-Busch and Coors had merged. 

The spot begins with two guys seated at a bar. One turns to the camera and says, "For the first time in 30 years, Coors Light has an ad in the Super Bowl." The second guy swings around on his barstool and says, "Actually, this is a Miller Lite commercial." The first guy then slugs him in the face and a brawl ensues, with dramatic music. 

Coors commercial? Miller commercial? "Actually...." Watch it here:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fe4zS3y9PeI

The other commercial is titled Jack's New Angle. You don't have to know who Jack is, but in this story he takes up the triangle as a musical instrument. It's a 90-second spot and hilarious, with shades of Being John Malkovich. Like the previous commercial cited here, it uses story-telling and humor to keep viewers' eyeballs engaged till the dramatic reveal at the end, another surprise ending with an "Aha!" Watch it here:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GYPYfEVU62U

Now how fun was that? 

There was a lot of action in the Super Bowl ads last night. While some commercials worked better than others, it was fun seeing companies pulling out all the stops. 

Meantime, life goes on all around you. Laugh a little and it will lighten your load. 

* * * * 

Did you watch the game? What were your favorite commercials?

Fortune Cookie Fortunes Are Fun (It's Flashback Friday)

My cup of good fortunes runneth over.

THIS STORY ORIGINALLY APPEARED JULY 2012

Fortune cookies are fun. Who hasn't enjoyed peeling open the cellophane and cracking open this "Chinese" cookie to read their fortune. Often the little strip of paper contains words of wisdom and other times a vague prophecy or ambiguous advice. Sometime it includes a little Chinese lesson. Here's one that says "You’ll never know what you can do until you try." And on the back it has Chinese characters withe the word "Painter" on it. Evidently if I studied hard enough I could learn to read Chinese eventually. 

Here's one that was lifted from a book of Yogi Berra quotes: "The game ain’t over ‘till it’s over."

Evidently the idea of fortune cookies is not Chinese in origin and according to Wikipedia, attempts to import them to China proved futile because they were ‘too American.” Depending on your source they originated in Japan or in California. But wherever they began they a staple of American life today... in Chinese and Vietnamese restaurants everywhere. (That is, everywhere in this country.)

For some reason after reading my fortunes I keep them, thinking that I might put them to good use some day in an art project or story. I stick them in a little shot glass on my shelf. Last night I decided to type them up and share them with you. Afterward I was surprised by how many I have collected over the years. If you see a fortune you like here, you're welcome to take it. We'll call it yours.

You make people realize that there exist other beauties in the world.

You laugh now, wait till you get home.

Your high-minded principles spell success.

Your future will be happy and productive.

Always the beautiful answer who asks a beautiful question.

Teach only love for that is what you are.

You have an important new business development shaping up.

Life to you is a dashing and bold adventure.

If you do not have a plan for your life, someone else will.

This is a night for love and affection.

A way out of a financial mess is discovered as if by magic!

Your tongue is your ambassador.

You will be fortunate in everything you put your hands on.

Your smile always brightens the cloudiest day.

You find what you’re looking for; just open your eyes!

Even a blind hog finds an acorn once in a while.

Give what you have; to someone it may be better than you dare to think.

You have the ability to channel your energies into constructive activities.

You will have gold pieces by the bushel.

Fear and desire – two sides of the same coin.

Many of your wishes will come true soon.

Your principles mean more to you than money or success.

Things are often the opposite of what they seem.

Often it is better not to see an insult, than to avenge it.

Long life is in store for you.

Be careful of what you wish for. You may get it.

Your heart is a place to draw true happiness.

Accept the next job offer you get.

People find it difficult to resist your persuasive manner.

A merry heart maketh a cheerful countenance.

Action is the proper fruit of knowledge.

You display the wonderful traits of charm and courtesy.

Use your charm and personality to obtain your wishes.

A bargain is something you don’t need at a price you can’t resist.

The next few days are a lucky time for you. You can take a chance.

Go above and beyond your duty. You will benefit from it.

Your ideals are well within your reach.

Love in its essence is spiritual fire.

This instant is the only time there is.

Someone who deserves special attention awaits your magical voice.

Don’t be so critical and overly concerned about details.

You will follow a path which has a heart.

Friends long absent are coming back to you.

Good news is coming; expect good fortune.

Happiness is a state of mind.

Investment in knowledge pays the best interest.

When things go wrong, don’t go with them.

Sing and rejoice, fortune is smiling on you.

Be what you wish others to become.

Only a life lived for others is a life worthwhile.

A pleasant surprise is in store for you.

You will soon be confronted with unlimited opportunities.

By the work one knows the worker.

If you do not run your subconscious mind yourself, someone else will.

Good to begin well, better to end well.

Things may come to those who wait, but only the things left by those who hustle.

You are a deep thinker with a knack for problem solving.

You will lighten another’s heart.

Rely on your own good judgment to lead you to success.

Happy events will soon take place in your home.

You can see why people like fortune cookie fortunes. Who wouldn't want a pleasant surprise or happy event after a good meal? In the meantime, have a memorable weekend.... and may you think of a creative way lighten another's heart this day.

* * * *
PostScript: I've not been to a Chinese restaurant since Covid-19. We may want to try to support our local restaurants a little if we want them to be there when this is over. 

Throwback Thursday: Waltzing With Bears

If you're anything like me, you sometimes like to listen to the same song several times in a row. For some reason I occasionally listen to the same song three, four or even more times in a row. Or in a variation, start my day with the same song, for weeks.

The same with reading books, though not always in a row. But I do read favorite books multiple times. Perhaps we’re comforted by the familiar.

As early as second grade I had a favorite book that I kept taking out from the elementary school library. I’d taken it out so many times over and over again that the librarian was concerned enough to comment about it. Interestingly enough, it was a story about bears.

That memory came to mind after I had watched and listened to a song on YouTube maybe four, five or six times in a row by various artists. The song was “Waltzing With Bears.” Afterwards I began to wonder what it is about this song that gives me such a kick. Maybe because it’s so frivolous.

Here are the lyrics. 

Waltzing With Bears

I went upstairs in the middle of the night,
I tiptoed in and I turned on the light,
And to my surprise, there was no one in sight,
My Uncle Walter goes waltzing at night!

Chorus
He goes wa-wa-wa-wa, wa-waltzing with bears,
Raggy bears, shaggy bears, baggy bears too.
There's nothing on earth Uncle Walter won't do,
So he can go waltzing, wa-wa-wa-waltzing,
So he can go waltzing, waltzing with bears!

I gave Uncle Walter a new coat to wear,
When he came home he was covered with hair,
And lately I've noticed several new tears,
I'm sure Uncle Walter goes waltzing with bears!
[Repeat Chorus]

We told Uncle Walter that he should be good,
And do all the things that we said he should,
But I know that he'd rather be out in the wood,
I'm afraid we might lose Uncle Walter for good!
[Repeat Chorus]

We begged and we pleaded, “Oh please won't you stay!"
We managed to keep him at home for a day,
But the bears all barged in, and they took him away!
Now he's waltzing with pandas, and he can't understand us,
And the bears all demand at least one dance a day!

[Repeat Chorus]

Here's another fun version.  Loving the brogue.
And yes, I kinda relate to Uncle Walter a wee bit. Sometimes ya just wanna get away.
Have a fine day. 

Daniel Botkin's Riddles for Fans of Bob Dylan: Riddles and Trivia All Rolled Into One

Anyone who has followed Bob Dylan's career over the course of a lifetime will agree that Bob Dylan is one of a kind. I think the same can be said for Daniel Botkin, a lifelong Dylan fan, artist and singer/songwriter in addition to being a Bible teacher and conference speaker.

I first met Mr. Botkin at the 2016 Duluth Dylan Fest and helped orchestrate his one man art show at The Red Mug that year, which also included an artist talk that garnered a good crowd and TV coverage. His creativity extends to performing as well, and he's continued to participate annually in the singer/songwriter contests that have continued in Duluth.

Botkin, who hails from Peoria, Illinois, also has a sense of humor that reveals itself in both his art and his songwriting. On one occasion he was in his house singing "The Ballad of Frankie Lee and Judas Priest" and his wife told him to sing something his twin daughters would enjoy. He reinvented the song as "The Ballad of Winnie the Pooh and Tigger Priest," which he later performed here in Duluth.

This spring he assembled a collection of riddles for Dylan fans which he may have intended for distribution at our 2020 Dylan Fest which had unfortunately been cancelled due to the pandemic. I obtained a copy a couple weeks back and found it quite entertaining. There's a sense in which it's not only a book of riddles but also a trivia contest. A few of the answers will be obvious, but many will challenge even the most dedicated fan.

Here are a handful of riddles so you can catch the spirit of this book. The 57 page volume includes a chapter on where the idea for this book came from, a brief history of Botkin's relationship to the music of Bob Dylan and some other bonus material. For $7.99 I think it's a pretty good value and might make a good gift for the Dylan fan who already has everything else.

What did the farmer say to his stubborn hen?
A: Lay, lady, lay.
Lay, Lady, Lay

"Motorcycle Black Madonna" -- Painting by D. Botkin

What did the Dylan fan say when the farmer next-door asked him what time he normally woke up in the morning?
A: When your rooster crows at the break of dawn.
Don't Think Twice, It's Alright

What did Bobby Zimmerman‘s mom say to him when he came home after his curfew?
A: Where have you been my blue-eyed son?
Hard Rain

What do Dylan fans say when they set their clocks ahead for daylight savings time?
A: The times they are a changin'.
The Times Are A-Changin'

What does a Dylan fan do when you ask him for $.15?
A: Well, he hands you a nickel, he hands you a dime.
Maggie's Farm

Why can't burglars break into Bob Dylan‘s house?
A: His bedroom window it is made out of bricks and the National Guard stands around his door.
Maggie's Farm

What did the Dylan fan say to a friend who couldn’t remember his own phone number?
A: They say that Pat Garrett’s got your number.
Billy 1

Self-Portrait with Leopard-Skin Pillbox Hat

What did the Dylan fan say to the abacus?
A: Will I be able to count on you?
Is Your Love In Vain

What did the surgeon say to the Dylan fan is they wheeled him into the operating room?
A: You won’t get out of here unscarred.
Narrow Way

What did the Dylan fan say to Marie-Antoinette?
A: You went and lost your lovely head.
Narrow Way

You can tell the book is truly "hot off the press." It even has a riddle from "I Contain Multitudes."

What did the florist say in response to the customers complaint about the wounded flowers?
A: The flowers are dying like all things do

You can find links to Daniel Botkin's Riddles for Fans of Bob Dylan as well as prints of his paintings at DanielBotkin.com.

Related Links
Interview with Artist Daniel Botkin, Winner of the 2012 Dylan Days Art Competition
Like Dylan, Artist Daniel Botkin Reconfigures American Classics
Daniel Botkin's Gallery of Dylan-Themed Art

Channelling Papa: Scott Stavrou's Collected Blog Posts of Ernest Hemingway

OK, so you're a Hemingway fan. You've read everything you could find that he has written. Then you've read all the books you could find about his lives, his wives and the places he's lived. What else is out there?

OR, you have a friend who is into Hemingway in a big way. He or she has read everything by him, about him and about his lives and wives and the places he's lived. Is there something new and different that you might find for this special person's stocking this Christmas?

The answer is yes. Scott Stavrou's Collected Blog Posts of Ernest Hemingway could be just what you're looking for. The Collected Blog Posts is not only a hilarious read, it's an excellent example of parody. The actual correct title is Hemingway Lives: the Super-Secret, Never-Before-Published Blogs of Ernest Hemingway.

Stavrou, who lives in Las Vegas, is a graduate of Georgetown University. He's a writer of both fiction and non-fiction, with a notable PEN International Hemingway Prize for fiction under his belt. The story which earned him this award was true and good, bearing the title Across the Suburbs and Into the Express Lane at Vons.

The Collected Blog Posts is Stavrou's fourth book, the first three being Wasted Away, Picketing With Promethues, and Losing Venice: A Novel.

There are three reasons I've been enjoying the book. First off, because it's great fun. As I move through the stories I keep smiling, and who doesn't like smiling? Second, because I'm a Hemingway fan, so it resonates. And third, most importantly to me, each chapter--or blog post--seems to trigger creative juices.

It's not that I need to write like Hemingway or do parody, but it opens the door a crack to show more possibilities for one's writing. Are you a writer who has begun to feel like your work is getting stale? Do you need a cherry bomb to disrupt you or get your attention. That's what Stavrou's book is doing to me.

Here's a line from the introduction that sets the tone: "Many things are lost, not just generations. Things like innocence, faith, keys, or universal remote controls."

It's drenched with Papa references, a 21st century Hemingway like you've never known before. Chapter titles include At Noon the Bell Tolls, The Cold Man & the Seasons, Mailmen Without Women, The Dow Also Rises.

Theoretically, it could be a fun party game to have ten of these books (if you had ten guests) that you pulled out and said, "List as many references to Hemingway stories and books as you can in the next fifteen minutes." They'd be required to use the Table of Contents only. Afterwards everyone gets to keep their book and you can all check in once a week to find out how many you found in each chapter.

If you don't want to invest in that many books, you can just buy one and photocopy the table of contents. (This won't work very easily with the Kindle version.)

As a blogger I especially enjoyed this chapter: Hemingway Titles Retitled to Boost Website Traffic. (That one was a shorter blog post.) The book also has some great illustrations.

Hemingway Lives: the Super-Secret, Never-Before-Published Blogs of Ernest Hemingway isn't a book that you read in one sitting. No one will ever, to my knowledge, read Ennyman's Territory from beginning to end in a single sitting, or multiple sitings. Blog posts are intended to be bite-sized, not feast-sized, reading. Stavrou's book is a moveable feast that you can carry with you anywhere you go, and nibble from as you go along, whether on a subway, in an airport or at tonight's AirBnB on the other side of the river and through the woods.

Meantime, life goes on. Dig it.

Related Links
Interview with Scott Stavrou
Hemingway Lives on Amazon

A Pair of Mazes for You

The notion of labyrinths traces back to ancient mythology, but recurs throughout history. In essence, a labyrinth is a maze, a puzzle, a complicated route that leads to, or conceals, something.

Many writers have made reference to labyrinths in their work. Jorge Luis Borges was fascinated by the idea of labyrinths, which appear repeatedly in his short stories. Umberto Eco's The Name of the Rose was inspired by Borges in this fascination.

From ancient and medieval times to the present, labyrinths have had their appeal, as real structures to be built or as an idea. The mind itself is said to be a labyrinth. Numerous characters in literature, from Cervantes' Don Quixote onward, have become lost in the labyrinthine worlds of their imaginations.

One of Andre Gide's most fascinating works is his story Theseus, about the Athenian hero who navigated the labyrinth in Crete to slay the half-man, half-bull Minotaur aided by Ariadne's thread. It is an entertaining read, with unexpected twists, and comes with my highest recommendation.

Of course my first encounter with the Internet was somewhat akin to the notion of a labyrinth. If one considers each page a room, from which one must exit to enter another room, you can imagine the whole world wide web as a labyrinthine universe. You can lose yourself in it forever.

Based on this concept I created a small html-labyrinth when I built my personal website seventeen years ago. The Entrance is at the bottom of the page.

A question for you: If the Internet is a Labyrinth, then where is the Minotaur?

Finally, here below is a Maze that I drew this weekend as we sat around drawing together as a family. I must have spent hundreds of hours drawing mazes like this in my youth. It’s not as much fun though if you can’t get others to play the game… so take a minute to download this image and print it. Begin at the word START and see if you can reach the Red Dot at the END. Enjoy!

Download JPEG of maze, then Print.

EdNote: Except for the last paragraph and some minor editing along the way, this blog entry is a re-post of my blog entry of January 8, 2008. The maze is new.

Palindromes

Words are endlessly fascinating. Word puzzles abound in all languages, and ours is no exception. Word play assumes many forms from crossword puzzles and word jumbles to anagrams. As kids we loved search word puzzles where you have to find all the words in a grid of letters, and who among us has not played the word game Hang Man?

I once wrote a story composed of as many homonyms as possible called How Eye One The Wore, which was published in Games magazine years ago. That was fun, incorrectly placing more than 150 homonyms into a 500 word short story.

But my theme this morning is palindromes. According to Wikipedia, "A palindrome is a word, phrase, number or other sequence of units that can be read the same way in either direction." Here are some examples to illustrate.

LEVEL
KAYAK
RACECAR
SOLOS
SAGAS

The fun part is seeing the elaborate lengths to which sentences can be constructed. As a general rule it is O.K. to adjust punctuation to make sentences work like actual sentences.

Here are some examples of phrases, though I assure you the lists seem endless.

A man, a plan, a canal - Panama!
"Am I mad, eh?" Giselle sighed, "Am I, Ma?"
A nut for a jar of tuna.
Dad: "Alas, a salad ad!"
Delia failed.
Del saw a sled.
Dennis sinned.
Dennis and Edna sinned.
Detach cat, Ed.

Well, you get the picture. Palindromes can be fun. There are quite a few websites with palindromes online, but here's one you might especially like.

Here are a couple examples which the Palindrome Police have indicated are not really acceptable, though you'll have to admit they are clever. (source: Rinkworks)

Retteb, si flahd noces eht tub, but the second half is better.

Doctor Reubenstein was shocked and dismayed when he answered the ringing telephone, only to hear a strange, metallic, alien voice say, "Yasec iovn eilacilla temeg! Nartsa raehoty lnoenoh pelet gnig, nirehtde rewsnaehn ehw. Deya! Msid! Dnadek cohssaw nietsne buerro, tcod?"

But my real objective here was simply to share a Weird Al video from YouTube. When my kids were growing up, this is the one show I loved to watch that they watched on Saturday mornings. Weird Al Yankovich seems to be endlessly creative, and his spoofs on MTV style videos are not to be missed. We had a couple Weird Al CDs in the house and, well, he's just plain witty.

So without further ado, here's a video of Weird Al performing Bob Dylan's Subterranean Homesick Blues, which appeared in the 1967 D. A. Pennebaker film Don't Look Back. Except he does the whole thing in palindromes. He even sets up the background the same, with Allen Ginsburg or a Ginsburg-like character. Turn down the volume if you are in an office.



And, for comparison purposes, here's the original.

Have a fun day making word play.
Net forever. Often!

14 Year Old Submits New Game To Milton Bradley

When I was fourteen I created a game and submitted it to Milton Bradley. They received it on Oct 27, 1966 at 11:41 AM. In addition to the three page letter I'd written about the game (unedited below), I included several pages of score sheets and a copy of the game board I had used.

To The Game Dept.
Milton Bradley

Dear Sirs,

This may sound silly, or this may sound originally brilliant. I invented a "new" game that I have been playing since last September. My friend liked it, too. One night my mother heard me playing and said I should write to the Milton Bradley Company.

I call it PFL football. Or the Professional Football League. I make a 15 game schedule, and score sheets for each game. To me it is very realistic with fumbles, interceptions, TDs, 8 yard losses, 20 yard passes and incompletes. I do all this with a home made football field 2' x 1 1/2', a deck of cards (with some removed) and a penny (as the football.)

I have roster sheets, League Standings sheets and score sheets. To make this a game it would be good to make your own pack of cards. 2 piles etc. (See samples)

Here I spent a page and a half detailing the rules of the game. In closing I wrote...

Since I'm a teen at 14, I know what kids over 12 like to do. Most of them love football. If you have nothing to do you watch T.V. or play a game. Many times, there is nobody to play the game with and T.V. may stink. That's why I made up this game, and since I liked it, I've been playing it. I never even expected to write to MB.

If you would like further information on how to play or anything else, please contact me at

1316 Roger Avenue

Somerville, NJ 08876

Truly Yours,

Ed Newman

On December 2, 1966, Milton Bradley Vice President Millens W. Taft, Jr. responded.

Mr. Leon Edward Newman

1316 Roger Avenue

Somerville, New Jersey 08876

re: Proffessional (sic) Football League

Dear Mr. Newman:

Thank you for submitting your idea to us.

Your idea has been presented to our Research Committee which has carefully studied it, having in mind the requirements necessary to make it adaptable to our line and also its originality.

The Committee's report has been completed, and we regret to advise that, although your item has merit, the sales potential is too limited in our estimation. We are therefore returning your material herewith by registered mail.

Your submitting this idea to us for consideration is nevertheless greatly appreciated, and we trust that, although it did not meet with our requirements, you will contact us again as you create and develop additional items.

Thank you again for submitting this idea to us, and we regret our inability to cooperate with you further in this particular instance.

Very truly yours,

MILTON BRADLEY COMPANY

Millens W. Taft, Jr.

Vice President

LESSONS

It just doesn't seem like I can close without trying to draw a lesson from all this.

In 1961, I won the Grotto Circus Contest in Cleveland. (see Dec 3, 2007 blog entry) I'm not sure if it was this that contributed to my perpetual optimism, but it must have helped. My mother's cheerful encouragement always helped, too, as you see in this story above, which resulted in... a rejection letter. But that was O.K. It was cool to get that rejection letter. I did not expect a response from the Vice President of Milton Bradley. It made an impression.

A few years later, I brought some day-glo posters to The Third Eye in New York City. They liked the posters, but didn't purchase them. The parking ticket was memorable.

The following year the president of Doubleday passed some of my sketchbooks around to five publishers for feedback as to whether I had talent. One evaluation letter said I could possibly become the next Peter Max. All five rejected my art, though.

Years later when I was trying to become a writer I followed all the rules and sent queries and articles to many magazines before I got a letter back with a hand written note saying I was getting better. He said my submission was in the correct format, which was good. At least someone was reading those submissions. It was a very nice rejection letter. I collected quite a few after that.

In the 1990's my Hollywood screenplays were read, also. And though I was paid for a winning story in 1991, it was never published, the only year they failed to publish the winners of that particular contest.

They say you have to fail before you can succeed. If you're reading this, then I have done both. I failed but kept going. Finally, after all these decades, someone has looked at something I created, and maybe even smiled. Hope it was you. If at first you don't succeed, try a bar-b-cue. If that don't work... try something else. Or just try again. Or... whatever. Just make sure you're having fun along the way.

CLICK PHOTOS TO ENLARGE

The Angry Visitor from Xon

Short Story Monday. This week a little sci-fi... My grandmother was a voracious reader of sci fi, with many Asimov books prominent on her shelves. I'd enjoyed a fair share of it in high school and perhaps this strange little story was birthed from those early readings.

The Angry Visitor from Xon

He landed his spacepod in a field near Carlton, Minnesota. It was night and he hoped that there had been no sign of his landing. He had landed without lights.

He meant no harm, visiting this planet for the first time in more than a hundred earth years. During his last visit he was instructed to refrain from making contact with the residents of this planet, called Tortell in his own world (which means, Two Thirds Water.) It was not a creative name, as most of the inhabitants of Xon are factual, reality based engineers, lacking in imagination. (Xon means, “The Largest Blue Planet in our Solar System”, which it was.)

His name was Som Felo Fint, which translated means he was the first born son of Som Felo. His parents, however, called him Rau, which means “Male Boy.” Happily, Rau had discovered in his previous visit that Tortell had ample supplies of oxygen, that the molecular designs and carbon based life forms corresponded to his own planet and that, but for his clothing and one other handicap, he could practically pass for a Tortellian, that is, earthling.

Rau’s unfortunate handicap was the lack of vocal chords. The peoples of Xon had developed their telepathic communication skills to such an extent that it was believed by Xon scientists that vocal chords were irrelevant. The vocal chord gene was removed from the genetic code shortly after the elimination of the genes that cause migraines, cancer and an assortment of other miscellaneous maladies. The only peoples to be infuriated by this decision were Xon’s pet owners and pet trainers. Telepathic communication with animals has yet to be developed, in spite of that “can do” attitude of high ranking Xon technologists.

The spacepod landed without mishap in a farmer’s field shortly after dusk. He made only a modest attempt to conceal it, intending to depart by morning.

Rau’s visit to Northern Minnesota corresponded with the county fair season, and as luck would have it, these were the days of the Carlton County Fair. His first stop: a farmhouse just off Highway 61, to pick up a set of clothes. The farmer and his family had gone to the fair and for a Xonian, subduing the family watchdog was a cinch. In no time at all Rau was appropriately decked out. He smiled when he caught his reflection in the mirror. On the surface, at least, he made a passable rural Minnesotan, and a handsome one at that.

Rau was off to the fair.

*

Lisa Flanagan was mad at her boyfriend Curt Steffle and she intended to let him know it. Curt had made fun of her in front of his friends. Roland Kinney and Billy Mitchell were laughing so hard tears spilt from their eyes. And if that wasn't bad enough, Tess Harper saw everything and she probably wouldn't get off Lisa's case for a year. For definite and for sure Curt was finished.

Lisa took a walk in the field beyond the parking lot and found a place to be alone with herself while her friends went off to have fun. She cried into the folds of her sweatshirt, then quietly composed herself in the dark. As she stood up to head back toward the fairground she heard the sound of footsteps and whirled about only to see a man's silhouette moving toward the lights.

At first it frightened her to think that she may not have been alone. Then, she wondered if maybe it had been Curt feeling awkward and guilty, having followed her but being too timid to approach her.

Walking briskly, she pursued the dark figure until she reached the open lighted space between a tent and a vendor's trailer. The figure turned, and it was not Curt at all. In fact, it was a young man, taller and fuller in the shoulders, and very handsome, with deep set eyes that seemed to possess an understanding which exceeded his years. The glare of lights shone on her face and he saw that she was looking at him with a strange expression. Rau turned and walked out of sight around the corner.

About ten minutes later she found her friend Melissa. “Did you see him? That new fellow. Know anything about him?”

But Melissa hadn't seen him.

“Where’s Curt? Didn’t you come with Curt tonight?”

"Curt’s history,” Lisa said and she spat. She wasn’t very good at spitting, so it was more like she sprayed a bit of spittle in the direction of the ground. The sound was effective and showed what she thought of her former boyfriend.

"So what’s his name?”

"I don’t know,” Lisa said. “We haven’t really met.”

"You don’t even know the guy and you –"

Lisa cut her off, pointing. “There. He’s over by the cotton candy.”

Rau was standing alongside the glass, mesmerized by the furls of air and sugar that were being wrapped into pink and blue clouds of cotton.”

Come on,” Lisa said. “Let’s go meet him.” Reluctantly Melissa went along.

Lisa acted like she had lost her footing and brushed against him. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m such a klutz.”

Rau looked at her and smiled. He found her features delicate and pleasing to look at. Using his telepathic powers he attempted to tell her she was beautiful and that it was O.K. that she bumped into him. He said he was shy and wanted to comfort her in the field, but sensed that she wanted to be alone. He said many more things, but on his face he wore only a smile that seemed strangely sad.

Unfortunately, human comprehension of Xonian telepathy is zilch and Lisa wondered if she may have said or done something wrong.

Awkwardly, he reached out and put his hand on her upper arm and nodded slightly. He realized she did not hear him, that his words were all locked up in his head. He hoped that his touch would reassure her.

TO BE CONTINUED

Curses, Foiled Again

The origin of the line "Curses, foiled again!" is from the wonderful and hilariously popular cartoon show, The Adventures of Rocky & Bullwinkle, also known as for a time as Rocky and His Friends. If you're too young to remember Rocky & Bullwinkle, you're too young to rule the world...

"Hey, Rocky, watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat."

Bullwinkle pulls out a hostile rhino face, or sometimes a roaring lion's head, and pushes it back in.

"Wrong hat."

OK, it was a kids show, but incredibly creative. Masterful. The format of the show had Rocky and Bullwinkle as hosts introducing the other cartoons, which were also set pieces like established regular acts on a variety show: Dudley Do-Right, Mr. Peabody, Fractured Fairy Tales and Mr. Know-It-All.

The phrase "Curses, foiled again" routinely emerged from the mouth of villain Snidely Whiplash whom our hero Dudley Do-Right of the Mounties had to defeat every week in order to rid the world of evildoers, thereby winning the heart of his fair Nell.

I love the names of these villains. Because this was the Cold War era, Rocky & Bullwinkle's nemesis was Boris Badenov (bad enough), who with his assistant Natasha reminded us that not everything is innocence in this world of ours. The names are, of course, a dead giveaway as to who the "real" bad guys were at that time.

You can get a feel for both Bullwinkle's and Boris' characters in this little clip which is especially fun in these final weeks before the upcoming election.

But, that's not really where today's headline came from. Rather, the stimulus for this particular interconnected web of memories was.... well, I just feel bad for those Chicago Cubs fans who pinned so many hopes on this year's team. In preparation for the World Series I created a little illustration which I'd hoped to post during Game One. But as is so often the case, Fate is a fickle mistress and the Cubs were eliminated in three games by the Dodgers. The real enemy, their arch nemesis perhaps once again, was themselves.

Two Cubs were reportedly injured after the game when they slipped and fell on a locker room floor made wet by manifold tears.

If I may, a line from the Beatles' Abbey Road album comes to mind here. "Boy, you're going to carry that weight, carry that weight a long time."

Curses, foiled again.

The Love of Poetry & Other Surprises

Last night. I knew going into it that this would not be a typical Friday evening. Harrold and Nancy, my wife’s sister and her husband, were flying in from Dallas. My father-in-law Bud Wagner, WWII vet and author of And There Shall Be Wars, was picking them up at the airport. They were to be here for supper.

I’d hurried home, changed clothes and skimmed through email in an effort to clear my plate for an evening of playing host, and giving myself the liberty to temporarily have no responsibilities. The phone rang. It was my daughter calling home from college to ask if they were here yet. She was all cheerfulness. We shared a few minutes on the phone. I suggested she call back in an hour or so.

Ten minutes later, I heard the gate opening outside my opened office window. The dogs sprang up and went into their berserk welcoming agitation. I walked to the door and, lo! It was my daughter, beaming with joy, in part due to seeing the surprise on my face. She had not called from Morris at all. She’d been hitchhiking and was just down the road with a friend of hers named Matt.

“Happy belated Birthday, Dad,” she said, handing me a present and a card. After hugs and greetings (Susie had joined us at this point) we chatted, laughed, talked, listened to hitchhiking stories.

This kind of unexpected surprise visitation has become something of a tradition in our family, handed down thru the generations. Bud, my wife’s dad, pulled off surprise visits to Nancy and Harrold in Dallas – a thousand miles away – on more than one occasion. Susie and I with the kids in tow pulled off a surprise Easter visit to my folks ten or twelve years ago. A variation of “shock and awe,” you might say.

Shortly after, our guests arrived. A wonderful dinner was shared. At some point I opened the card, which contained a CD of music that Christina made for me with love, and then the package, a book of poetry by Czeslaw Milosz called Facing the River.

After dinner we’d broken up into pairs, jabbering enthusiastically, playing catch up after not having seen one another in a year. Harrold picked up the Milosz book, quietly read a couple poems, then made a soft “wow” type exclamation.

Over the years we've shared many conversations on the widest range of topics. The four of us -- Harrold, Nancy, Susie and I – went to Mexico together in the fall of 1980 to work at an orphanage. The shared experience taught us much, and though we live in different parts of the country, our paths have converged annually. Business, faith, philosophy, child-rearing, pets, home ownership, health, taxes, readings, music… over the years we have talked about many things, but last night for the first time that I can recall we got jazzed about poetry. Milosz set it off.

Sliding into the living room I proceeded to grab books by two of my favorite poets, Rainer Maria Rilke and Billy Collins. I read to Harrold "Another Reason I Don’t Keep A Gun in the House" from Collins’ Sailing Alone Around the Room. Harrold’s face lit up with that one, so I shared another… and then another.

We entered Rilke’s "The Panther"… then moved to my office where, online, I began to share a few of my poems beginning with one about loneliness called "Hitchhiking Across Antarctica." I recited other poems from my website, in part because I enjoy the reciting poetry and in part because I had a captive audience. Each became a catalyst for more stories from each of our life experiences. Like water overflowing its banks, the conversation spilled into new regions in unexpected ways. No harm done, not like hurricanes and floods. But a really fine beginning to their stay with us.

Here’s a poem from Billy Collins about poetry itself. Tomorrow maybe I will share a couple of my own, though as is often the case, sometimes you never know what will happen next.

Introduction to Poetry

I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside the poem's room
and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author's name on the shore.

But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.

They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.

Billy Collins

The Goat

My senior year in high school I was quarterback for our intramural football team called The Nerds. I did not know what the name "Nerd" meant at that time, but assumed it was something dirty like one of the other teams in our league, the Galloping Gonads.

This was really the culmination of my years of street football and all the football games we played after school every day up at Hamilton School. In retrospect, I probably had more cred than I give myself credit for. As quarterback I called plays and engineered a winning season that brought us to within five yards of the intramural championship. If we won that last game, we would have been the school’s champion team.

As it turns out, we were on the five yard line with time running out. I called an option, and as I escaped the rush by moving to the left I saw Tony Ruggerio wide open in the center of the end zone. But I also saw a wide open space in front of me, inviting me to make a dash for it… which I did.

I have never been the fastest runner among my peers, and that day in the late afternoon sunlight, those five yards took a lifetime to traverse. An unsuccessful sprint I might add, because I was nailed on the two. So it is, I let everybody down with an impulsive bad decision.

Never mind that I had brought us to victory’s doorstep with a very successful year that surprised nearly all of our adversaries. (It didn’t surprise us, of course, because we’d played so many years together and fine tuned a lot of very cool timing plays.)

Ten years later I was visiting the old neighborhood. I don’t recall where it happened but I ran into Tom Dermody that day, one of the guys from our neighborhood who was on that intramural squad. His first words: “Why didn’t you throw it?” Ten years later. Not a greeting of “Hey, how are you doing? Long time no see.”

"Why didn't you throw it?" The irony is, that even with all that water under the bridge, I knew exactly what he was referring to.

I have replayed that decision a hundred times in my mind. It was a poor one, I know. And I wish I could tell the guys I’m sorry, but life goes on. Sometimes you let people down and no matter how hard you wish it you can’t undo what you’ve done. So the task is to learn from your mistakes, to be wiser, more disciplined and better next time.

Favorite Street Football Pass Plays

In March my brothers and I re-visited the neighborhood where we grew up in New Jersey. In 1964 our family moved into a new housing development of three and four bedroom homes in Bridgewater. As we drove about the neighborhood, we were flooded with memories. Here’s the spot I jumped out of a moving car. There’s the pace in the woods where our fort used to be.

Significantly, it was a vibrant community with lots of kids of all ages. The isolation created by living in the ‘burbs is a common theme in books and movies, but during that Sixties era things were different in our neighborhood. There were kids in abundance, and grabbing a few for a pickup football game was a snap. For street football it only took five or six to get a pretty good game on.

I had a brother Ron, two years younger than I, who was always ready to play. Tom Browne lived next door in the house above, Kenny Koons in the house below. The McAvoys were a few houses up the road, and with that we were set. If there were five, I would be quarterback on both teams with no pass rush. Six, we’d play three on three. And there was nearly always room for one more.

The asphalt road made a perfect “field” for this setup. The brick curb provided a clear demarcation for what was out of bounds. The end zones could be from the telephone pole to the Koons’ driveway, or any other length that seemed suitable. It was touch football at its finest, involving psychology and finesse.

In retrospect, it was a great way to develop basic football skills. For quarterbacks, timing and accuracy are paramount. For receivers, developing good hands was the essential skill, as well as footwork and feints in the psychological game of beating the defense. Defenders learned how to read the offense and react. Playing street football on a daily basis enables you to practice, practice, practice. Besides, it was fun.

Generally we'd play three complete is a first down. Sometimes we'd go long just to keep the defenders honest, but it was pretty tough to defend against these short timing routes.

The illustration here shows a typical play that I might call. It begins with a crossing pattern which creates just enough confusion in the defenders to give the receiver an edge. The receiver begin straight along the curbs, and at about three steps out begin the cross. The right end is counting to five with the one-one-thousand, two-one-thousand, three-one-thousand cadence. At five the receiver breaks back toward the quarterback, with the ball already on its way. Almost impossible to defend against.

More football memories to come.

personal pages // creative writing // articles // spiritual light

On the Road Again

Well, it's pre-dawn darkness here, early Monday morning. My bags are packed and I'm ready to go.... Heading to Las Vegas for a quick lube show at Mandalay Bay and what do ya know, I'm also doin' the Con Agg show at the Convention Center once I get in the flow.

If all goes according to plan, I may also be performing at Pounders tonight, an open mic stand up comedy club. It brings my family shame when I do this, but hey, you only go around once in life. They say I am not cut out for comedy, that I am too serious. Plus, bad timing. My brother concurs. "Ed, you're not funny." O.K., that's throwing down the gauntlet. That's waving a red flag in front of a bull. And maybe they are right, so I have changed my name. If you ever see it in lights, you will know it's me: Eddie Danger. And in all likelihood those who know me best are right, so I'm not quitting my day job.

Meantime, life goes on all around us. Smile and have a great day.

Newman Family Christmas 2007

A few images from last night and this morning for family and friends.