Check out the Japanese!
She'll Feel Mighty Silly When Someone Tries To Feed Her Some Change at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com
Friday, October 26, 2007
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
It's Over...What Happened?
It’s over.
And because I have the gift of verbosity, let me tell you about it.
The two days prior were spent “outlining” my own silly book—This was the first interview and I wanted to be ready! After 12 hours of work I had five pages of material made up of helpful overviews like the “two things that influenced me the most,” or “the 4 lies we believe,” and even “if I only had 5 minutes to talk to some who was struggling with the what-ifs, what would I say.” Sections of Scared Silly had been dutifully highlighted and dog-eared with added extra notes in the margins…wait a minute? Was this a radio show or the ACT?
I arrived at the office a half hour early each page of my notes coded and carefully laid out on the desk before me. Extra information was up on my computer ready for accessing. A large diet coke from McDonalds sat beside me—the $1 cheeseburger had been consumed on the way (I always try to hit the Four Food Groups of Stress—grease, salt, carbs, and caffeine—in a situation like this. Because. I. Do.). The office phone was on—check; my cell phone off—check.
The first words from Pam Duffy’s mouth was, “Do you know the score?” My mind raced—score of what? Oh, right! She’s a UK fan! They must be playing! “I’m at my husband’s office,” I replied lamely. “They’re a media company but they don’t have real media here.” A quick check of the score online (UK was behind) and Pam quips, “Duffy’ll be right with you.”
“Right with you” in my mind—being the mind of a simpleton, apparently—meant that he’d pop on during the break and introduce himself and then lead into the interview. I sat enjoying the pleasant ads and devo thoughts while on hold waiting for Mr. Duffy. A hum and a prayer nearly erupted from my lips.
Suddenly the music changed…it sounded like…well…it sort of sounded like the opening to a show. And then came a jovial, radio voice, which said, “Welcome back, friends, to ‘Duffy and Company.’ Our last hour was filled with possible nuclear annihilation from Iran…my next guest wrote a book, blah, blah, blah….” My mind hiccupped and reeled as it tried to switch gears. “You’re. Not. On. Hold.” It frantically screamed. You’re ON. THE. AIRRRRRRR!!!!!
Thus was the start of my first interview. I don’t remember much else. Except that he kept referencing page numbers. PAGE NUMBERS! I did the summarize-your-brilliant-tome-in-a-minute-or-less exercises and this guy was asking (in a very loving, uplifting, and joyful way) about what I wrote on page 42. I couldn’t even remember if there WAS a page 42!
So I did the only thing that anyone would do in such a situation. I yammered. I B.S.’d. I made noises that sounded like I totally agreed with what he was saying when in fact I was scrambling to get my brain to understand English again. “No hable Englese,” nearly leaked from my voicebox at least once.
The other problem was that I kept waiting for a commercial break so I could gather my thoughts and get a swig of Diet Coke. Or maybe I’d just breathe. Or run away. At any rate, I thought there would come some sort of regrouping-type break. Instead, as the music was coming up signaling the long awaited respite, Duffy says, “And that was Marcy Bryan…next we’ll talk to two guys who…”
*Gack.* That was it. I never even got to say goodbye.
I felt like a cross between a limp, wet blanket and Charlie Brown coming off the pitcher’s mound with his head hung down after Lucy did (or said) yet another stupid thing. Shell-shocked, I turned on my cell and called Kevin and Megh (they were in central Kentucky filming) and packed up wondering if people in California buy books written by fools.
Fortunately, several friends and family had signed on and heard the event live. Thankfully they all felt like it went well. They even raved, God Bless them.
And through the fog of self-inflicted gagginess, I vaguely remember Warren Duffy, a veteran communicator who personally worked with the Beach Boys, say that “Scared Silly” was funny, profound, and helpful. God Bless him.
Maybe, just maybe, it would all right after all…
Thank you for all of your prayers. I’m sure they are to blame for getting me onto this wild ride in the first place. And I know they are what made me sound as good as I’m told I did.
Tonight the thought of Balaam’s ass comforts me.
Thank you God, there’s hope for even me.
I think.
Watching where I'm talking at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com
And because I have the gift of verbosity, let me tell you about it.
The two days prior were spent “outlining” my own silly book—This was the first interview and I wanted to be ready! After 12 hours of work I had five pages of material made up of helpful overviews like the “two things that influenced me the most,” or “the 4 lies we believe,” and even “if I only had 5 minutes to talk to some who was struggling with the what-ifs, what would I say.” Sections of Scared Silly had been dutifully highlighted and dog-eared with added extra notes in the margins…wait a minute? Was this a radio show or the ACT?
I arrived at the office a half hour early each page of my notes coded and carefully laid out on the desk before me. Extra information was up on my computer ready for accessing. A large diet coke from McDonalds sat beside me—the $1 cheeseburger had been consumed on the way (I always try to hit the Four Food Groups of Stress—grease, salt, carbs, and caffeine—in a situation like this. Because. I. Do.). The office phone was on—check; my cell phone off—check.
The first words from Pam Duffy’s mouth was, “Do you know the score?” My mind raced—score of what? Oh, right! She’s a UK fan! They must be playing! “I’m at my husband’s office,” I replied lamely. “They’re a media company but they don’t have real media here.” A quick check of the score online (UK was behind) and Pam quips, “Duffy’ll be right with you.”
“Right with you” in my mind—being the mind of a simpleton, apparently—meant that he’d pop on during the break and introduce himself and then lead into the interview. I sat enjoying the pleasant ads and devo thoughts while on hold waiting for Mr. Duffy. A hum and a prayer nearly erupted from my lips.
Suddenly the music changed…it sounded like…well…it sort of sounded like the opening to a show. And then came a jovial, radio voice, which said, “Welcome back, friends, to ‘Duffy and Company.’ Our last hour was filled with possible nuclear annihilation from Iran…my next guest wrote a book, blah, blah, blah….” My mind hiccupped and reeled as it tried to switch gears. “You’re. Not. On. Hold.” It frantically screamed. You’re ON. THE. AIRRRRRRR!!!!!
Thus was the start of my first interview. I don’t remember much else. Except that he kept referencing page numbers. PAGE NUMBERS! I did the summarize-your-brilliant-tome-in-a-minute-or-less exercises and this guy was asking (in a very loving, uplifting, and joyful way) about what I wrote on page 42. I couldn’t even remember if there WAS a page 42!
So I did the only thing that anyone would do in such a situation. I yammered. I B.S.’d. I made noises that sounded like I totally agreed with what he was saying when in fact I was scrambling to get my brain to understand English again. “No hable Englese,” nearly leaked from my voicebox at least once.
The other problem was that I kept waiting for a commercial break so I could gather my thoughts and get a swig of Diet Coke. Or maybe I’d just breathe. Or run away. At any rate, I thought there would come some sort of regrouping-type break. Instead, as the music was coming up signaling the long awaited respite, Duffy says, “And that was Marcy Bryan…next we’ll talk to two guys who…”
*Gack.* That was it. I never even got to say goodbye.
I felt like a cross between a limp, wet blanket and Charlie Brown coming off the pitcher’s mound with his head hung down after Lucy did (or said) yet another stupid thing. Shell-shocked, I turned on my cell and called Kevin and Megh (they were in central Kentucky filming) and packed up wondering if people in California buy books written by fools.
Fortunately, several friends and family had signed on and heard the event live. Thankfully they all felt like it went well. They even raved, God Bless them.
And through the fog of self-inflicted gagginess, I vaguely remember Warren Duffy, a veteran communicator who personally worked with the Beach Boys, say that “Scared Silly” was funny, profound, and helpful. God Bless him.
Maybe, just maybe, it would all right after all…
Thank you for all of your prayers. I’m sure they are to blame for getting me onto this wild ride in the first place. And I know they are what made me sound as good as I’m told I did.
Tonight the thought of Balaam’s ass comforts me.
Thank you God, there’s hope for even me.
I think.
Watching where I'm talking at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com
First "Officital" Radio Interview--EEEEEEKKKKK!
It’s Friday night, late. Tomorrow (Saturday) I go on the air for my first pimping radio interview. The show is out of Los Angeles and I’m sandwiched between Halloween, the Sword of Islam, and the state of our country. My three favorite topics! *GACK* (sound of me choking on that lie!)
The program is called Duffy and Company. I’ve talked to Mrs. Duffy; she’s originally from Kentucky and still follows “her team” (UK), which gives me 1 point for living in the right state. Mr. Duffy worked with the Beach Boys back in the day so that puts him on the “Uber Groovy” list in my book. The show is Christian and conservative. Mr. Duffy looks like a cross between my old neighbor (named Al Cook) and Rush Limbaugh. He’s got a very peppy and pleasant radio voice. You’ll enjoy listening to him.
What might be the most unnerving is that Mr. Duffy has actually read “Scared Silly!” (The question immediately erupts in my mind is this: Why would he go and do a thing like THAT for!?!?!? Now I feel pressured to actually remember what I wrote so I can explain it! Why would he do such a thing to me???? What is this world coming to?!?!)
OK: Below are the links. I don’t know how to work them…although I did just get on (only through Explorer…NOT Mozilla) and putz’d around a bit. Sadly I can’t think about it much more until after the show is done, which sort of defeats the purpose of telling you. But you’re getting the email anyway because you’re probably more media savvy than I (don’t feel superior…our brain-dead dog Libby would probably qualify as “more media savvy than I” and she doesn’t even have opposable thumbs!). Even if you’re not…I’m coveting the one thing that seems like it would OK to covet if God allowed coveting: Your prayers.
Please pray that all 4 of my brain cells will fire well, together, and quickly. Please pray that I can answer Mr. Duffy’s questions succinctly, with spiritual sensitivity, and humor. I’m asking to help me to find favor with him and his many listeners. And especially PLEASE pray that the folks who need what is offered in this goofy book of mine will tune in at just right time for God-sized hug and huge dose of hope.
True confession: I’m scared (Duh!). But am exceedingly grateful for this opportunity. And I don’t want to blow it but I don’t want to make it into a bigger (or lesser) deal than it really is—a conversation with someone who as READ what I WROTE (I think we can all safely say: Everyone panic!)
The plan is for me to work on various responses tomorrow…then I’ll “pop” by Sam’s and get a diet coke on my way into Kev’s office. I’m using the phone there, which will help make the connection more stable compared to my “We’re AT&T And We Think We’re god Which Means You’re Outta Luck, Chump” cell phone service.
I’ll let you know how it goes.
The time is 6:40 pm till 7 pm.
If you like, feel free to listen LIVE by going to www.kwve.com. Or go to www.duffyandcompany.com and click on the podcasts for my interview (I think this will be primarily after the show but you can check it out as well). Once the live show is ended, they make it into an archive podcast. The Duffy’s are going on a “someplace ancient” tour (check out their website, for more info—it’s cool but because it’s late) so my interview might be available on their archive podcast as early as next week (10/23) although it’s more likely that it will be available the second or third week in November. Mrs. Duffy will email me with more of those details as she gets them and I’ll pass them onto you.
Thanks so much for your love and support through this ever-stretching time. I’m really glad to have you around.
Stressed out (but not as bad as I used to be!) at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com
Marcy
The program is called Duffy and Company. I’ve talked to Mrs. Duffy; she’s originally from Kentucky and still follows “her team” (UK), which gives me 1 point for living in the right state. Mr. Duffy worked with the Beach Boys back in the day so that puts him on the “Uber Groovy” list in my book. The show is Christian and conservative. Mr. Duffy looks like a cross between my old neighbor (named Al Cook) and Rush Limbaugh. He’s got a very peppy and pleasant radio voice. You’ll enjoy listening to him.
What might be the most unnerving is that Mr. Duffy has actually read “Scared Silly!” (The question immediately erupts in my mind is this: Why would he go and do a thing like THAT for!?!?!? Now I feel pressured to actually remember what I wrote so I can explain it! Why would he do such a thing to me???? What is this world coming to?!?!)
OK: Below are the links. I don’t know how to work them…although I did just get on (only through Explorer…NOT Mozilla) and putz’d around a bit. Sadly I can’t think about it much more until after the show is done, which sort of defeats the purpose of telling you. But you’re getting the email anyway because you’re probably more media savvy than I (don’t feel superior…our brain-dead dog Libby would probably qualify as “more media savvy than I” and she doesn’t even have opposable thumbs!). Even if you’re not…I’m coveting the one thing that seems like it would OK to covet if God allowed coveting: Your prayers.
Please pray that all 4 of my brain cells will fire well, together, and quickly. Please pray that I can answer Mr. Duffy’s questions succinctly, with spiritual sensitivity, and humor. I’m asking to help me to find favor with him and his many listeners. And especially PLEASE pray that the folks who need what is offered in this goofy book of mine will tune in at just right time for God-sized hug and huge dose of hope.
True confession: I’m scared (Duh!). But am exceedingly grateful for this opportunity. And I don’t want to blow it but I don’t want to make it into a bigger (or lesser) deal than it really is—a conversation with someone who as READ what I WROTE (I think we can all safely say: Everyone panic!)
The plan is for me to work on various responses tomorrow…then I’ll “pop” by Sam’s and get a diet coke on my way into Kev’s office. I’m using the phone there, which will help make the connection more stable compared to my “We’re AT&T And We Think We’re god Which Means You’re Outta Luck, Chump” cell phone service.
I’ll let you know how it goes.
The time is 6:40 pm till 7 pm.
If you like, feel free to listen LIVE by going to www.kwve.com. Or go to www.duffyandcompany.com and click on the podcasts for my interview (I think this will be primarily after the show but you can check it out as well). Once the live show is ended, they make it into an archive podcast. The Duffy’s are going on a “someplace ancient” tour (check out their website, for more info—it’s cool but because it’s late) so my interview might be available on their archive podcast as early as next week (10/23) although it’s more likely that it will be available the second or third week in November. Mrs. Duffy will email me with more of those details as she gets them and I’ll pass them onto you.
Thanks so much for your love and support through this ever-stretching time. I’m really glad to have you around.
Stressed out (but not as bad as I used to be!) at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com
Marcy
Thursday, October 11, 2007
If You Ever Saw The Shining
This will make you feel all better about it.
I wish "doctored" movie trailers = real life at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com
I wish "doctored" movie trailers = real life at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Betcha Didn't Know THIS About Kentucky!
Key Quote: "Kentucky produces more marijuana than any other state except California."
There are several "farms" rumored to exist not far from where we live. I haven't gone looking for them...basically because I like living with all of my limbs. And I haven't told Kevin about the rumors because he'll go all "man, let's go look for them! It'll be a GREAT date" on me.
When you add all of the potential pot farms, actual tobacco farms, and bourbon distilleries, us here in Kentucky should be riddled with lung cancer, but happy and unawares.
So then, what about this? (seen at Dairy Queen)
Or this? (found at the Kentucky Derby)
Probably Living In the Uptight End Of the State at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com
There are several "farms" rumored to exist not far from where we live. I haven't gone looking for them...basically because I like living with all of my limbs. And I haven't told Kevin about the rumors because he'll go all "man, let's go look for them! It'll be a GREAT date" on me.
When you add all of the potential pot farms, actual tobacco farms, and bourbon distilleries, us here in Kentucky should be riddled with lung cancer, but happy and unawares.
So then, what about this? (seen at Dairy Queen)
Or this? (found at the Kentucky Derby)
Probably Living In the Uptight End Of the State at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com
Finally!
Therapy the way I like it: without people.
And They Say The Internet Rots Your Brain at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com
And They Say The Internet Rots Your Brain at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com
Monday, October 01, 2007
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)