November 9: Winter Storm Warning, Classic Saint Marty, New Cartoon

Yes, the National Weather Service has issued a winter storm warning for my piece of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan starting Monday night through Wednesday morning.  Depending on the source, we are going to be getting anywhere from six inches to two feet of snow.

This news depresses me more than a little bit.  I'm not ready for winter yet.  My mind has not made the adjustment from rain mode to snow mode.  Of course, I live in the U.P., so a snow storm at the beginning of November should not surprise me.  Actually, a snow storm at the beginning of September shouldn't surprise me.  I just am not looking forward to moving that much white rain.  Too much work.

Today's Classic Saint Marty first aired three years ago.  In 2011, I was yet again bitching about a winter storm warning.  Some things just don't change.

November 9, 2011:  Got to Be Kidding, Best Drink, Snowstorm

I just looked at the latest Blog of Note (BON).  It's another artist blog.  Looks like the artist/blogger just finished illustrating some kind of book.  My reaction when I looked at his blog:  you have got to be kidding.  Really, it seems like strong written content doesn't mean a hill of beans to the people of Blogger.  It's about art and food and fashion and baby pictures.  Don't worry about being a good writer.  The thing that bothered me the most about the latest BON was that there was no gushy post from the said blogger about how excited and surprised he was.  No welcome to all his new followers.  No thanks to the people of Blogger for giving him the honor.  Nothing.  Now, I know that being named a BON isn't exactly like winning an Oscar or a Pulitzer Prize, but I want to see some kind of reaction.  Anyway, I was just a little torqued this morning.

My wife and I went out on a date last night.  We traveled to a local micro-brewery, even though we're not beer drinkers.  I ordered a peppermint patty, which is a hot chocolate spiked with a healthy dose of peppermint schnapps.  Quite good.  We also ordered a heaping plate of every deep-fried appetizer on the menu:  waffle fries, mozzarella cheese sticks, mushrooms, and chicken fingers.  It was delicious, but I was paying for it for the rest of the evening and into the night, gastro-intestinally speaking.

There is a winter storm warning in effect for my little area of the world today.  Depending upon which weather report you believe, we could be in for anywhere from three to eleven inches of thick, white, heavy rain.  I was really hoping this little winter event was going to blow past us, either to the west or east.  No such luck.  I guess I better drag out the old snow boots.

Saint Marty is having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad weather day.

Not quite ready for this shit!

Confessions of Saint Marty

October 24: Alone, Quite Alone, Where Have All the Readers Gone?

"Mr. Scrooge it was.  I passed his office window; and as it was not shut up, and he had a candle inside, I could scarcely help seeing him.  His partner lies upon the point of death, I hear; and there he sat alone.  Quite alone in the world, I do believe."

This statement is made by the husband of Belle, Scrooge's former fiance.  He has just seen Scrooge toiling away in his office while Marley is dying at home.  Of course, Scrooge is alone.  By this point in his life, Scrooge has pushed away everyone who ever loved him.  He is by himself, depends only on his own resources for security and so-called happiness.  As Belle's husband says, Scrooge is alone, quite alone in the world.

The reason I chose this little passage is that I have noticed an alarming trend with this blog.  My readership is down.  For the past four or five months, I have been averaging over 10.000 hits a month.  This month, I will be lucky if I even approach that number.  I'm not sure what the cause of this decline is.  Perhaps I have written something offensive.  Perhaps my disciples are getting tired of my constant need for acceptance and appreciation.  Perhaps I have turned people off with my political humor.  (For the record, my friends are Republicans and Democrats, and we exchange good-natured insults all day long.)  Perhaps it has nothing to do with me and everything to do with the change of seasons or weather or maybe the full moon.

Whatever the reason, I am feeling alone, quite alone in the world, and I don't like it.  Saint Marty will never be named a Blog of Note if this decline in readership continues.  So, I am trying to figure out how to stem the tide, so to speak.  I will do practically anything for my audience.  I will even post a picture of myself in a compromising position.  (Yes, I will wear a Mitt Romney tee-shirt, if I have to.  I will even go that far.)  Just let me know what I can do, or not do, to get your vote.

This country needs Saint Marty.

I am Saint Marty, and I approved  this message.

March 26: Carol Dip, Show Me No More, Prizes

This morning, being Monday, and me, being exhausted, are not getting along very well.  Everybody drags after  the weekend, I know.  Nobody, after having a couple days off, willingly takes up the yolk of work again.  It would be unnatural.  Even my computer seems to be working at a slower pace after having a couple days at home.  However, return to work I must, even if only 35% of my brain is functioning correctly.

As a result of my total lack of motivation and energy, I will be doing a Carol dip this morning.  (For those of my disciples tuning in for the next installment of Project Memoir, do not despair.  It will be coming in the next day or so.)  I know this practice is cheap and easy, but sometimes I like cheap and easy.  I've already consulted my copy of A Christmas Carol on a couple of questions without very satisfying results.  Therefore, I'm not going to cheat.  I'm going to ask my question and accept whatever answer I get.

My questions is: 

Will this blog ever be named a Blog of Note (BON) by the people who run blogger.com?

And the answer from my copy of A Christmas Carol is:

"No more!" cried Scrooge.  "No more.  I don't wish to see it.  Show me no more!"

Well, that sucks.  I'm going to have to give up Carol dipping.  It's not good for my self esteem.  It never yields very positive results.  According to my interpretation of that quote, I'm not going to be named a BON.  Ever.  In fact, I should never ask or contemplate that question ever again.

It's true that I tend to invest a great deal of importance on awards and recognitions.  Any person who's read my posts at the beginning of October know that I tend to become very (some might say unhealthily) obsessed with the Nobel Prize in Literature.  I can't help it.  For some reason, I attach great importance to these kinds of accolades.  It's the reason I was a straight "A" student through high school and college.  It's why I graduated summa cum laude.  It's why I get pissed off every time the people at Blogger choose to recognize yet another food or fashion blog.

It's not that I think I'm better than everyone else.  I don't.  I think it stems from a need to be liked.  If I win an award, if somebody tells me I've done something exceptionally well, that means I've got admirers.  We all want to be liked.  Even Scrooge.  We all want to be surrounded by people who think we're great.  I know I do.  It's one of the reasons why I teach.  All my students have to pretend to like me for at least three or so months.  Perhaps I don't need a plaque or trophy to prove my worth, but it doesn't hurt.

I'm not going to say that simply writing this blog is the only reward I need.  Simply knowing there are people out there who might be benefiting from my nuggets of wisdom isn't tangible enough.  I want a title.  Blogger of Note, for starters.  Then maybe Blogger of the Year.  Pretty soon, I'll have a book deal.  Then I'll win the National Book Award.  In the same year, I'll win the Pulitzer Prize for something.  That will put me on the radar of the Swedish Academy.  After being nominated a few years in a row for the Nobel Prize for Literature, I will eventually be named the winner.  I will fly to Sweden in early December to collect my prize.  I won't be able to walk down the streets of Stockholm without being mobbed by admirers.  And when I return home, I will be asked to be Grand Marshall of my town's Fourth of July Parade.

It could happen.  OK, I might not get the Fourth of July thing, but the rest is totally realistic.  Blogger people take note:  my time has come.  Give into the inevitable.

God wants Saint Marty to be a Blogger of Note.

Why fight fate?  Give me the award.

October 24: Another BON Rant, New Tactic

Yes, I'm going to write, yet again, about not yet being chosen as a Blog of Note (BON) by the team at Blogger.  I've threatened hunger strikes, animal sacrifice, and Stephen King-like curses.  Nothing has worked so far.  Of course, the closest I came to a hunger strike was turning down seconds of Hamburger Helper for dinner, and I can't really bring myself to harm cattle or sheep, although I have killed a few goldfish in my time.  The curse thing is harder to pull off than you would think.  It involves satanic ritual, and that would screw up my chances of becoming a saint.  I would be a double loser--in my life and afterlife.  Not willing to take that chance.

Therefore, I am at an impasse.  I'm not sure where to go from here.  I have reached some milestones on Saint Marty already.  I'm approaching 10,000 page views.  I've got twelve disciples.  Each day, I'm getting close to 100 hits.  Things are going well.  When I started this little blog two Lents ago, I really never thought I'd still be at it almost two years later.  It was a slow start.  I had to beg people to become followers at the beginning, and I forced friends to sit down at their computers and read each post.  Wait, that hasn't really changed.  Of course, Saint Marty has evolved over time.  Long-time disciples will remember the first name of the blog--Feasts & Famines.  (Sounds like a food blog, doesn't it?)  I've added poetry, cartoons, and lots of pictures.  If you go back and look at my first posts, you'll find a lot of great writing, but not a whole lot else.  Go ahead.  Look.  I'll wait.

Now, I have to decide how to make the people at Blogger sit up and take notice.  Maybe I should write each post in pig Latin.  Ouldn'tway atthay ebay nnoyingaay?  Something's gotta give here.  Any reader who has any suggestions, post them in the comment section here.  I'll try any reasonable idea, and probably unreasonable ones, as well (as long as it doesn't involve public nudity).  I didn't get the Nobel this year.  I need this shallow recognition of my hard work on Saint Marty.

Help a poor saint become a BON.

Evolution of Saint Marty

October 13: New Look, Blog of Note, One Day to Go

Got a little bored with the look of my blog yesterday afternoon.  For those of you who've been following me for a while, you know that I change the appearance of my pages frequently.  For me, it's like rearranging the furniture in the family room.  Couch over here.  TV there.  Footstool in the corner.  Plus, I wanted something that reflected the season of the year more accurately.  Come November, I'm going to have to switch to snowmen and turkeys, but I think this new autumn color scheme is quite attractive.  It brightens things up and makes me think of hot cider spiked with cinnamon schnapps.

I also added a new text box on the side of the blog.  Go ahead and look.  I'll wait...Yes, it's the box that says "Future Blog of Note."  Again, for those of you who've been following me for a while, you know about my obsession with being named a Blog of Note by the Blogger team.  I have not given up on that aspiration.  However, I had to lay off on the whole "I'm going to poison your pet poodle if you don't name me a Blog of Note" tactic.  It hasn't worked, and it was getting in the way of that other goal of Saint Marty--to be recognized as a living saint.  Therefore, I added the appellation about being a future BON.  Until I receive said distinction, that box will remain on my blog.  When I win, I will change it to "Blog of Note" and add things like "In your face!!" and "Suck it, all you doubters!!" and "Next step, the Nobel Prize!!"

Tomorrow morning, I head off to the Wisconsin Dells with my family.  Not to worry, though.  I called the Kalahari Resort, and they do have a computer center for use by hotel guests.  Therefore, I will be able to post updates through the weekend.  I know you were all worried you weren't going to be able to get your daily words of wisdom from Saint Marty.  Put those fears away.  I will still be posting, at least once a day.

Allow Saint Marty to quote Garrison Keillor (a book lover, good Christian, and Democrat--you gotta love this guy):  "That's the news from Lake Wobegon for this morning."

I really am

September 20: Looking Up, Good Times, Blessings

I spent a good deal last night feeling sorry for myself, even after yesterday afternoon's post about counting my blessings.  I just couldn't shake the mood I was in.  I guess I would describe the mood as a I-might-as-well-just-stay-in-bed-and-eat-Cheetos-until-I-suffer-a-heart-attack-because-I-just-can't-seem-to-get-ahead-at-all mood.  Is that specific enough for you?

This morning, I'm vowing to pick myself up, dust myself off, and put myself back in the game.  I'm going to start looking up instead of down or backward or sideways or out of my ass (translation:  no shitty attitude).  I firmly believe in keeping your vision focused on God.  If you do that, He does great things, like part the Red Sea, cure people of leprosy, and make Chaz Bono dance well (for a transgendered fat man).  My mantra for today, then, is, "Look up."

The other part of this process is being aware of the blessings in your life.  I have a great family, great friends, and great coworkers.  I have not one, but two jobs that don't require me to wear a uniform and work a deep fryer.  And I have a blog that's been named a Blog of Note.  Oh, wait.  That hasn't happened.  Sorry, I sort of got carried away.  You get the idea, though.  My can of Diet Mountain Dew is half-full, not half-empty.  Actually, at the moment, I don't have a can of Dew.  I need to rectify that situation.

Things are looking up for Saint Marty.

If God can do this, He can make me a Blog of Note.

May 21: New Feature, Birthday Party, Family

Currently, I am at the birthday party for my sister.  It was actually her birthday last weekend, but since we were travelling, we put off the celebration until tonight.  As usual, with family get-togethers, there's the joking, kidding, and crabbing.  People get on other people's nerves, and, by the end of the evening, someone is going to be supremely pissed at someone else.  Hopefully, I won't be the pissed-off or the pisser-off.

Today, I'm going to start a new feature of the blog--a cartoon.  I'm going to call it Confessions of Saint Marty.  The cartoon will allow me to incorporate another one of my artistic pastimes, drawing.  Plus, I've noted several Blogs of Note that are by visual artists and cartoonists.  It just ups my chances of receiving that distinction.  (Are you listening, Blogger staff?)

I hope you find this cartoon funny, amusing, annoying, something.  It will probably just appear on the weekends.  Think of these posts as special weekend editions of the blog.  Hope everyone has had a good Saturday.

Saint Marty now presents the first edition of...

Confessions of Saint Marty

February 16: Saint Juliana

Let me tell you about a few things that piss me off.  Be warned, what you are about to read may come off as mean, petty, stupid, angry, sinful, envious, and cranky.  I will own that.  If you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you already know what a flawed and broken person I am.  No big surprise.

I have not ranked the things I'm going to bitch about in any specific order.  These rants are spontaneous and fueled by my general need every once in a while to go a little postal (no offense if you're a mail carrier).  So, here I go...

I'm pissed that I'm a part-time adjunct English instructor at a university that I probably don't stand a chance of ever working for on a full-time basis as a "real" faculty member.  I've been an adjunct for close to 15 years now.  In fact, I think I'm considered the "senior" adjunct, which is sort of like being the head fry cook at McDonald's.  The only way I probably even stand a chance of being allowed to play with the grownups is if I win the National Book Award, the Pulitzer Prize, or the Nobel Prize in Literature.  I can't even be selected as a shitty Blog of Note, which brings me to my next subject...

I'm pissed that I haven't been chosen as a Blog of Note.  I follow the BONs every week.  One of the latest Blogs of Note is written by a woman who pretty much goes out to eat at different restaurants around the world, takes pictures of her food, and posts the pictures.  Big friggin' deal.  She now has hundreds of new followers because of her BON status.  Me, I can't get any new followers.  I have to personally remind most of my old followers to read my blog.  I guess the people of Blogger have something against someone who writes blogs that are literate, funny, spiritual, intelligent, and not about food.

I'm pissed that no matter how hard I work, I never seem to get ahead.  I start work at around 5:15 every morning.  During the day, I register patients, put together medical records, answer phones, and schedule surgeries.  Some time during that day, I sneak off to campus to teach one or two classes.  Then I come back to the first job and work until 5 p.m.  Tonight, because it's Wednesday, I have to go to church for choir practice at 7 p.m. and then praise band practice at 8 p.m.  I'll eventually get home around 9:30, just in time to make my daughter's school lunch, pick out my work clothes for tomorrow, and go to bed.  For my taxes this year, I have four W-2 forms.  Yet I still have trouble staying ahead of the bills.

I'm pissed that I've been trying to sell my house for over a year now and haven't gotten a single offer yet.  I spent about a month this autumn tearing up carpeting and painting walls, injuring my fingers and feet on carpet staples and tacks about 15,000 times.  I'm not a home improvement kind of guy.  The other night, I told my wife that I've resigned myself to the fact that I'm going to die in this house.  (It doesn't help that my coworker put her house on the market for a day, got three offers, and sold it immediately.)

I'm pissed that they changed the question format of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?

I'm pissed that Justin Bieber didn't win the Best New Artist Grammy.  Just kidding.

I'm pissed that change is inevitable and that people try to convince me change is a good thing.  Change, for the most part, only brings about pain, hurt, hardship, and hard work.  Change sucks.

If you haven't realized it yet, I'm not in a great mood right now.  There's a legend about today's saint, Juliana.  In the third century, Juliana was thrown into prison for (what else?) being a Christian.  The story goes that, while she was in prison, the devil appeared to her, and she spent days wrestling with him and fending off his attacks. 

Right now, I'm Juliana, and I'm wrestling with some devils.  At the moment, it feels like the devils are winning.  And guess what?  That pisses me off, too.

August 13: Saint Benildus

It is Friday the 13th.  I'm not really superstitious, however.  Nothing really terrible has ever happened to me on a Friday the 13th.  I'm pretty sure the bad karma attributed to the day comes from the fact that Christ was supposedly crucified on a Friday, and the unlucky number 13 is connected to the number of people at the Last Supper.  The superstition, then, has its roots in Christian tradition.  That doesn't mean that I believe in the whole black-cat, step-on-a-crack, don't-walk-under-a-ladder way of thinking.  However, I did grow up with the whole Jason-in-a-hockey-mask, serial killer thing.  As long as I'm not camping in a rustic cabin on a deserted lake with a group of horny teenagers, I can confidently say that I'm pretty safe.

As a follower of Christ, I guess I shouldn't really subscribe to ideas of luck or karma or fate.  Friday the 13th is just another day of the month...Okay, I just typed that and nothing bad happened.  A brick didn't crush my skull.  Lightning didn't strike my computer and fry its circuitry.  The phone didn't ring with news that my house was on fire or my dog died of severe mange.  (Actually, I don't own a dog, but I just wanted to use the word "mange.")

Since I'm courting catastrophe by scoffing at Friday the 13th, I think I'll just throw caution to the wind and talk about some dreams and goals I have for myself and my life.  So, this post may really annoy those of you who can't stand the me-me-me-ness of current popular books like Eat, Pray, Love.  (I think I may be the only man I know who actually liked that book.)  In my defense, you are reading a blog written about me and my experiences by me.  What the hell do you expect?

Anyway, I recently accomplished one of the goals I've had for a while.  I was chosen as Employee of the Month for the health care system I work for.  That means, for one shining period of 31 days, I was better than over 1200 other people.  (Okay, even I have to admit that statement sounds incredibly shallow.)  I know that awards and accolades don't determine how good of a person I am.  But it's a lot easier to feel good about myself if I have that physical affirmation to back it up.  Plus the money that went with the award was nice.  It's sort of like my coworker who just purchased a new used car.  "Is it bad that I feel like a better person when I'm driving now?" she asked me.

One of my current goals may seem equally as self-serving as the one I just wrote about.  I know I shouldn't crave fame or readership, although sometimes it feels like I'm writing only for myself and the few friends I drag to a computer and force to review my latest post.  I know there are more readers out there than I'm aware of.  However, writing is essentially a lonely process.  You write in isolation, rewrite in isolation, and, in the case of a blog, publish in isolation.  I revel in comments from readers I don't know personally because it means that what I'm writing is actually being read by people who aren't obligated to read it.

Which brings me to my next goal.  I want to be chosen by Blogger.com as a Blog of Note.  Basically, every month, the good people who run Blogger.com choose blogs that somehow strike their fancy for some reason.  I've reviewed a lot of the blogs that have received this distinction.  They don't seem to follow any particular topic or theme.  There's artists and cab drivers and chicken farmers and Hooter's waitresses and moustache fetishists.  You name it.

I want to be chosen as a Blog of Note.

Now, the problem is that the authors of these blogs are pretty good self-promoters.  They do things like e-mail Blogger.com and threaten to torture kittens if their blog isn't chosen for recognition.  I'm not good at stuff like that.  I think another way a blog gets chosen is by having a large following.  That means I need more followers.  I've been at five followers for a while now.  So, what I'm asking is for those of you anonymous followers to register as official followers.  Tell your friends/relatives to register as followers.  I like new friends, even if they're cyber.  And, if you feel so inclined, e-mail Blogger.com and tell them you're going to shave a puppy if Feasts & Famines isn't chosen as a Blog of Note.  It might help.

Now, this blatant plea for recognition and popularity may seem to be antithetical to my quest for becoming more saintly.  I agree with you.  Benildus, today's saint, didn't go around telling friends to mention his name to the pope.  Basically, Benildus spent his life as a teaching priest in France in the 19th century.  He established a school in Saugues, France, and spent almost a third of his life providing free education to underprivileged boys.  He had a reputation for sanctity, generosity, and humility (of course).  He didn't care is he was voted Teacher of the Year.  He didn't even care is he was a Priest of Note.  Benildus just did what he thought God wanted him to do.  When I started this blog, I really thought it was God who planted the seed in my heart.  It was something I felt I needed to do.  I think that qualifies as being called, just like Benildus was called to teach.

I thought God was going to take control, and I'd have over 1000 followers by now.  I'd be getting calls from the New York Times and have my pick of literary agents.  At the very least, I'd be a freakin' Blog of Note.  But, of course, God has other plans.  So, I'm just going to keep writing and trusting.  It's all I can do.  The rest is out of my hands, like all goals and dreams.  It's not about luck, good or bad.  It's about trust.

And a few hundred e-mails to Blogger.com by some avid fans.