People

Leave a comment Posted on People, Uncategorized, Writing

Is There Such a Thing as a Wrong Opinion?

A behind-the-scenes look at writing with authority.

I spend a lot of time reading articles online (movie reviews, political blogs, etc.) every day and I always make sure to read the comments that other people post below them. The majority of comments tend to agree with the writer. But a good third of them have the polar opposite view of the topic. To me it’s funny when they disagree, because ultimately what they are saying (especially when their comment is emotionally charged) is that the writer’s opinion is wrong.

In a way they are the treating the writer’s opinion as a fact, by questioning it like it is a fact. Because only a fact can be wrong. An opinion is completely subjective.

And what that points out is the importance of the natural assumption of credibility in a writer. A convincing writer is able to supplant this idea in the reader’s head: “If he’s saying it, it must be true.”

No writer is completely right-on and in-tune all of the time. Even if a writer was, they may just not simply be right-on and in-tune with the exact same perspective as the reader.

Writers must present their information in confidence, in a way that says, “This is unquestionable truth”. When executed correctly, the reader subconsciously puts their trust in the writer, assuming that if the writer says something that seems a little off, it must be the reader that is out of touch and off-sync, not the writer.

I know this is true for the writers that I follow. Even when I read an article from one of my favorites and I don’t thoroughly enjoy it, or it just doesn’t grab me, I still come back the next day or the next week for more. Because despite their shortcomings, they have instilled a sense of reverence in me through their talent. A sense of belonging, even.

That’s my opinion, at least.

Leave a comment Posted on Health, People, Storytelling, Uncategorized

Cigarettes: The Drinkable Version

As followers of the financial superhero Dave Ramsey, my wife and I are both allotted $10 each at the beginning of every week for what is called “blow money.” We can waste it on whatever we want: going out for lunch (instead of bringing our lunch to work), buying a CD, picking up a magazine at the book store, anything that would fall under the category of “disposable income”.

Because it’s evitable we all blow money each week. It keeps us from going crazy. Besides, we all “deserve it”. But my wife and I are putting perimeters on this human tradition. In the terminology of a child, it’s our weekly allowance. The rest of our income is for our needs (groceries, gas, etc.) and paying off our debts. No exceptions.

 

In the past year since we started doing this, my “blow money” has mainly been spent on the cheapest coffee available at Starbucks ($1.75 with tax). Taking the five minute drive during my lunch break as my workday escape. Sitting in a comfy leather chair, reading a book, sipping what truly is wonderful coffee.

And really, I must admit that a major reason I frequented Starbucks is because all of the staff there knew me by name. There is much truth in the lyric from the Cheers theme song, “You want to go where everybody knows your name.” But like any fast food joint (which Starbucks definitely is, just an upscale version of one), the place has an extremely high turnover in staff.

I realized last week all the people I knew there have gone on. And I just don’t feel like starting over with a new cast of characters. So as of last week, I stopped going.

 

Conveniently at the same time, I learned that the new office I now work in is a two minute walk from a beautiful walking park. So now I can take a nature walk (comparable to a state park) during my lunch break and read outside at a picnic table next to the flowing creek beside me. And when it’s too cold, I can walk an extra five minutes to Barnes and Noble and get the warm atmosphere I liked so much at Starbucks.

So now each week I use less gas, get more exercise, see the great outdoors, and don’t waste $10 a week on coffee.  And now I’ve converted back to work coffee, bringing in good creamer from home like Spiced Vanilla.  Still, work coffee is pretty awful. I entitle it “Cigarettes: The Drinkable Version”.

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Long Sleeved, Button Downs are the Shirt

In 8th grade, I saved my parents plenty of money because instead of hoping for new cool clothes for the 1994-1995 school year, I just used my dad’s closet as my wardrobe. At the time, I was around 5’ 6”, compared to my dad who is 5’ 11”. Obviously there was a notable size difference at the time, but it didn’t matter.

Because I didn’t need Tommy Hilfiger to be cool. I needed my dad’s long sleeved, button down shirts (AKA “casual dress shirts”). Worn unbuttoned over any random t-shirt pulled out of the drawer. And it didn’t really matter if the shirts matched each other either.

 

Fifteen years later, I now wear long-sleeved, button down shirts every day to work. Uncomfortably tucked into dress pants to look professional. And when I get home, I change into jeans. But the shirt stays.

Why are casual dress shirts so awesome? A few simple reasons.

Most importantly, they are made from thin, yet quality material. I am a man, therefore I get hot easily. That being said, casual dress shirts are designed so that the sleeves can easily be rolled up, and because of the turbulence of the buttons on the sleeves, they actually stay up, unlike a sweater or hoodie. And people think that rolled up sleeves on these shirts look good. It’s professional/hip.

And with a casual dress shirt, no one really has to know how little money I spend on them. There are no obvious logos to notice. I buy most of mine from the Unclaimed Baggage Center near my hometown for around $6.

 

These shirts link back to boyhood. Transformers, Go-Bots, and even Legos. Boys love things that change into different things. I can go from a professional working man to a casual dude (but not a slouch).

Hoodies are great, but they do have a sloppy connotation attached. And sweaters are okay, but sometimes when I wear them, I feel like I’m wearing a sweatshirt, which makes me think of Hanz and Franz from early 1990’s Saturday Night Live.

Long sleeved, button downs are the jam. And best of all, when my wife and I are out somewhere and she gets cold, which is indeed a constant occurrence, I can sacrifice my casual dress shirt to keep her warm. Only to reveal the dorky Transformers t-shirt I happen to be wearing underneath. Double win.

1 Comment Posted on People, Storytelling, Uncategorized

The Way a Name Sounds Compared to How a Name is Spelled

My name is… My name is…

Some people have long, complicated names. Like Ben Roethlisberger. Or M Night Shyamalan. I’ll even throw Weird Al Yankovic in that category. But just because a name is short, that doesn’t mean it’s not complicated. My name, in theory, is very simple. Especially when it’s written down.

But when it’s simply spoken, especially over the phone, to someone who has never heard my name before, they usually don’t get it right on the first try. Some popular variations include, but are not limited to the following, in all possible combinations:

 

Mick Shale
Mike Snell
Rick Schell
Nicky Shaw
Nic Snow
Mickey Show
Nate Shelton
Ned Shells

Because when all a person has to go on is what they simply hear, they are working with a muddled form that sounds literally like this: “Nicgtkahshelahw”.

I remember how fascinated I was when someone pointed out to me about ten years ago that often, when we say a word, we don’t correctly pronounce it, because we can get by without doing it clearly. When we say “cat”, we pronounce it “caaa”. We leave off the “t”. I had to practice a few times at first. Then I realized it’s true.

But if we are sure to emphasize the “t”, the word “cat” literally sounds more like this: “cattuh”. We tend not to hear the extra syllables we add on to the end of words. And we make a habit of leaving off the strong consonant sounds on the ends also, as previously mentioned.

 

I wonder, too, what mental image my last name gives people. Personally, I’ve always envisioned a turtle shell, hence the picture of a turtle at the top of this site. But people usually tell me they think of “a seashell at the ocean”. When in truth, “schel” is simply the German word for “loud and noisy”, which over time evolved into “Shell”. It would be nice to imagine my ancestors were a bunch of cool hippies hanging out at the beach. But in reality, not so much.

Secretly, some sort of picture pops up in my head for everyone I know- as soon as I hear their last name. I’m taking requests, actually. For those who send me a request on facebook I will reveal my mental image for their name.

I expect no one to actually do that, though. That would be like getting sucked into the TV screen.  It’s what we in the theatre world call “breaking the 4th wall”.

 

3 Comments Posted on Nostalgia, People, Storytelling, Uncategorized

Manspeak, Volume -1: Boyspeak

During the summer of 2000 I was a camp counselor in Florida. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing but I had to make my campers think that I did. Each week I teamed up with a different co-counselor and ruled over a new cabin full of 16 boys, ready for action and trouble. Every group of boys had a natural leader, a natural rebel, followers of both, and occasionally, what I call the Boy Wonder.

He was the most misunderstood. He had the hardest time fitting in with the rest. He was in his own world. And he really didn’t mind. Because I am convinced he didn’t realize any of this.

Of course most boys encounter these traits at some point in their boyhood; some just take longer to grow out of it, if ever.

It was camp policy that every counselor had at least one of his campers with him at all times (like Sonic the Hedgehog and his rings). The Boy Wonder of the group usually ended up being the one I spent the most time with. There was something in it for both of us: I would be his faithful friend and he would be my camper-at-all-times.

The most memorable Boy Wonder was an 8 year-old named Daniel, complete with a pasty white complexion and perfectly straight bangs running across his forehead. Everyone learned his name on the second day of camp, when he threw up his corndog and tater tots inside the cabin after lunch. As the other counselor cleaned up the mess, I watched all the boys outside.

The easier job would to have been to clean up the puke. Because outside the cabin as I tried to stabilize the situation, Daniel chased all the other boys. They were afraid to get near him because of the vomit all over his clothes and face.

But ultimately, Daniel wanted to be the comedian of the group. And in a way he was: There were times he made the other boys laugh, but they were always laughing at him, not with him. His jokes were too familiar and too predictable (knock-knock’s and chickens crossing the street). It’s like he began realizing that by the end of the week, so he decided to start making up his own jokes:

Q: “What did the anteater say to the ant?”
A: “May I eat you or may I lick you?”

I remember what happened as soon as that joke was delivered. A few seconds of silence passed as this non-logical riddle fell flat. Then, it hit us all at once. The entire cabin roared up in a session of uncontrollable laughter. The joke made no sense: Why would a talking anteater politely ask his victim if he would prefer to be eaten (and die) or licked (and survive)? And why would being licked even be an option anyway? And that’s why it was inevitably hilarious.

Somewhere out in central Florida today is a high school senior named Daniel. Maybe his jokes got better. Maybe he started fitting in with the other boys. But if I know Daniel, he still hasn’t grown out of his Boy Wonder phase.

He would be far from the first. Classically, I’m referring to Gary Busey. But more recently, any man featured on a “celebrity” reality show on VH1.  And even it weren’t for the recent MTV Video Music Awards incident, I would still say it.

Kayne West.

All pictures with the “JHP” logo were taken by Joe Hendricks Photography:

Blog- www.photojoeblog.com

Website- www.joehendricks.com