A New Comic... Presented on New Year's Eve

 

Spooky Time Reviews: SOCIETY (1989 Horror Film)

Why Do I Have to Make My Bed? by Wade Bradford

Jail Birds: The Card Game

What am I Working On? Wednesday, Nov. 18th 2020

Last Year's Christmas Tree: A Dramatic Monologue

Hocus Pocus Movie Trivia

5 Strategies for Your Second Draft: Advice for Writers

Join my Micro-Audience: Authortube Update

Spooky Time Review: APOSTLE

My Dream Came True (LITERALLY): Psychic Dreams and Premonitions

On Writing Part Two

That Was a Lovely Vacation... Now Back to Work!

 Just a quick post to say that Cheri and I had a delightful extended weekend getaway. On Thursday we drove to St. George, Utah. It was a gathering (a daring venture in the age of Covid!) for her business, but it was mostly about the vacation. 

We arrived on Thursday, and I admit I was a little disappointed because we were all staying in townhouses, sharing dining space and bathrooms and such. This was fine because everyone who attended was cool... but I had imagined that our living quarters would be a bit more private and intimate... if you get my drift -- wink, wink, nudge nudge! We spent the late afternoon in the Lazy River... which wasn't all that lazy because of these fountains that squirt you every five minute. Still, lots of fun though. 

We went to Zion National Park, focusing on the oft neglected northern corner where the Kalob Canyons reside. We hiked about seven miles that day! 

On Saturday we hiked around Snow Canyon State Park. No snow, but there was a canyon. Then it was back to the pool! We actually saw a show at St. Goerge's little Opera House theater. We had our masks on the whole time, but lots of folks did not. Utah feels like the land before Corona! 

Sunday: We left St. George and headed to the JW Marriot in Summerlin, Nevada -- just outside of Vegas. This was a lovely vacation within a vacation. And there was another amazing pool. I haven't swam this much in years! (Or should I say, dog paddled?) 

Now it's Monday. We made the drive home in a goodly fashion... And now it;s time to get back to the day-to-day activities of work and responsibilities. I've got papers to grade! No matter what the state of the world may be, grading papers is the status quo. 

On Writing by Stephen King: Highlights from the First 50 Pages

What Am I Working On? Wednesday, Sept. 2nd 2020 AUTHORTUBE UPDATE

I am NOT doing MILWORDY... and neither should you

Getting Into Character for "Mr. Complain Takes the Train" -- Wade's New ...

The Hero at the End of This Book

 Last night, I dreamed I was writing a new book. This morning I doodled the cover as best I could. It was a sequel to "The Monster at the End of this Book." But each time you turn a page, it takes you further into Grover's secret lair, uncovering his secret identity as a super hero, until he finally trains you (the reader) as his side-kick and together you save a lost kitten stuck in a tree.

The last page is a mirror, so the Hero at the end of the book is you.

I wish Jon Stone and Jim Henson were still here so I could tell them about it!

A new comic

 

Thursday Movie Question: Tribute to Olivia de Havilland

Back to School: Food For Thought Videos

 A school is a group of fish who move as one through the water. Why do they do they? Why do they spend so much time together? Why do they conform? 

The quick answer: to survive. 

But still... how do they work together so well? This animated TedTalk Video helped me understand a phenomenon called "Emergence." 

I stumbled upon an animated video series that explores a lot of cool subjects, including emergence. 

Tribute to Movies Delayed by Covid-19: Thursday Movie Question!

Day Dreaming in the Back Yard: This is the Closest I've Come to Meditation

I just sat outside for an hour. It was so pleasant. The weather is perfect. The dogs were well behaved. A sat with my journal, hardly making a note. A butterfly fluttered by. 

An overwhelming sense of peace enveloped me. Maybe it was the Advil I took for my cankersore. 

I think the feeling of fulfillment came from allowing myself to relax a little, now that I’m done with putting my English course online. 

I’m in my late 40s…. But I currently have my health and countless blessings for which to be grateful. 

If I live to be 100… that means I have 51 and a half years left on this planet. 

Of course, there’s no guarantee I’ll live that long… and there’s also the possibility I’ll live a bit longer (and if our consciousness survives death it might be a WHOLE LOT LONGER!) 

I am flawed. I make mistakes. I have regrets. 

But I also love myself. I love being me. I love the people in my life, and even though we go on much of life’s journey alone, we do connect with others, truly connect, from time to time. 

I have the potential for 51 and a half more spins around the sun (give or take a few decades!) How excellent is that? 

John Green recently talked about how we don’t know the suffering that lies ahead, nor can we predict the joy. 

The Realm Unknown is what lies ahead… and that’s kind of exciting, isn’t it? Today, the Unkown fills me with a joyful wonder. 

Feelings don’t last. So this too shall pass. But it feels pretty darn good right now. 

author lost in desert wilderness

PATHOS, LOGOS, and ETHOS in Argument Essays (English Class: "Letter from...

Review of THE RITUAL: Spooky Time with Bradford & Bradford #SPOILERS

What Am I Working On? Wednesday July 22, 2020 ( AUTHORTUBE UPDATE )

Mark Twain Lecture and Descriptive Writing Activity: Two Ways of Seeing ...

"Two Ways of Seeing a River" by Mark Twain

An excerpt from Twain's Life on the Mississippi:

Now when I had mastered the language of this water and had come to know every trifling feature that bordered the great river as familiarly as I knew the letters of the alphabet, I had made a valuable acquisition. But I had lost something, too. I had lost something which could never be restored to me while I lived. All the grace, the beauty, the poetry had gone out of the majestic river! I still keep in mind a certain wonderful sunset which I witnessed when steamboating was new to me. A broad expanse of the river was turned to blood; in the middle distance the red hue brightened into gold, through which a solitary log came floating, black and conspicuous; in one place a long, slanting mark lay sparkling upon the water; in another the surface was broken by boiling, tumbling rings, that were as many-tinted as an opal; where the ruddy flush was faintest, was a smooth spot that was covered with graceful circles and radiating lines, ever so delicately traced; the shore on our left was densely wooded, and the sombre shadow that fell from this forest was broken in one place by a long, ruffled trail that shone like silver; and high above the forest wall a clean-stemmed dead tree waved a single leafy bough that glowed like a flame in the unobstructed splendor that was flowing from the sun.

There were graceful curves, reflected images, woody heights, soft distances; and over the whole scene, far and near, the dissolving lights drifted steadily, enriching it, every passing moment, with new marvels of coloring.

I stood like one bewitched. I drank it in, in a speechless rapture. The world was new to me, and I had never seen anything like this at home. But as I have said, a day came when I began to cease from noting the glories and the charms which the moon and the sun and the twilight wrought upon the river's face; another day came when I ceased altogether to note them. Then, if that sunset scene had been repeated, I should have looked upon it without rapture, and should have commented upon it, inwardly, in this fashion: "This sun means that we are going to have wind to-morrow; that floating log means that the river is rising, small thanks to it; that slanting mark on the water refers to a bluff reef which is going to kill somebody's steamboat one of these nights, if it keeps on stretching out like that; those tumbling 'boils' show a dissolving bar and a changing channel there; the lines and circles in the slick water over yonder are a warning that that troublesome place is shoaling up dangerously; that silver streak in the shadow of the forest is the 'break' from a new snag, and he has located himself in the very best place he could have found to fish for steamboats; that tall dead tree, with a single living branch, is not going to last long, and then how is a body ever going to get through this blind place at night without the friendly old landmark?"

No, the romance and the beauty were all gone from the river. All the value any feature of it had for me now was the amount of usefulness it could furnish toward compassing the safe piloting of a steamboat. Since those days, I have pitied doctors from my heart. What does the lovely flush in a beauty's cheek mean to a doctor but a "break" that ripples above some deadly disease? Are not all her visible charms sown thick with what are to him the signs and symbols of hidden decay? Does he ever see her beauty at all, or doesn't he simply view her professionally, and comment upon her unwholesome condition all to himself? And doesn't he sometimes wonder whether he has gained most or lost most by learning his trade?

Greek Myth Trivia with Nancy Lantis: Author of "The Real Housewives of T...

Persuasive Writing Activity: Create a Commercial

Pick a number between one and six... Whatever number you pick, match it with the object above That's your product!

Imagine that you are an advertising executive and today you have been given a very unusual task.

You get to decide what this product does. (What is it? What does it do? Why would people want to buy this?)

Give it a cool name.

Now, write a 30 - 60 radio commercial script that lets your audience know about this product. Make sure you choose a distinct emotion for your audience to experience. Do you want your audience to feel relaxed? Fearful? Humorous? Excited?

Your commercial could have characters and a story, or it could be straight-froward (information delivered by a spokesperson).

Here's a little lecture video to tell you more about persuasive writing and the use of emotional appeals in advertising.

Beach Episode 2020: Social Distancing at Ventura Beach

Writers Are Weird: AuthorTube Tag

Movie Question Games: What Movie Stunt Would You Do?

My Writing Projects: Revisiting a 10 Year Old Unfinished Novel & Creatin...

Midsummer Monologue Contest: Gift Card Giveaway #summermonologues

What Am I Working On? Wednesday June 10th, 2020 #AUTHORTUBE

Introduction to College Writing

The Little Red Ribbon: A Story by Wade Bradford

I wrote a new story. This one is a bit different than my normally whimsical style.

It's dedicated to all the kindhearted school bus drivers of the world!

I recorded the audio and made a YouTube video...






And I am also presenting the written version of the story below. I hope you enjoy it!

All the best,

Wade

The Little Red Ribbon

By Wade Bradford

Rachel had never been on a school bus before, but she was ready.

She had her lunch box, her backpack, and her mother's gift: a little red ribbon tied up in hair.

Thanks to her special red bow, she wasn't a bit nervous as she waited in line with the other children. 

And she wasn't even a little bit jittery when the big yellow bus squeaked and sputtered to a stop.

Maybe she was a tiny bit scared as the bus door clanked open, but when the bus driver gave her 

a smile and said, "Welcome aboard," all the butterflies in her tummy fluttered away. 

Rachel knew it would be a good day.

She sat in the very front seat, next to a boy who WAS nervous, jittery and more than a little bit scared. 

It was his first time on a school bus too. He was worried about the what-ifs...

"What if the bus gets a flat tire?"

"What if we go down the wrong road?"

"What if we never find our way to school?"

So, Rachel shared a secret: "My mother gave me this to keep the worries away." 

She untied the bow so that she and the boy could both hold onto the little red ribbon.

They looked out the window as the world rolled by and soon they were at their school.

"Thank you, Bus Driver," said Rachel.

"You're welcome, little one," said the bus driver. "And you can call me Mrs. Grace. 

Have a great day."

"I will, Mrs. Grace!"

But Rachel did not have a great day. On her way to class, when she was just about 

to tie a bow in her hair, a mean gust of wind swept the ribbon into the air.

It danced back and forth in the breeze, just out of reach. The ribbon twisted and tumbled 

in the wind, and then it was gone. Nowhere in sight.

During class, while the other children listened to the teacher, Rachel just looked out

 the window and wondered where her ribbon could be.

She looked for it at recess, and at lunch time, and even after the last school bell rang

 and the children lined up for the bus.

"Hurry on up and climb aboard," said Mrs. Grace, but even the bus driver's smile could 

not cheer her up. Rachel sat in the very back of the bus and thought about her lost ribbon. 

Then she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

When Rachel woke up, the rest of the children were gone. Outside the window, the world 

that rolled by was strange and different. Up in front, Mrs. Grace, who seemed to have forgotten

 all about Rachel, was driving to the place where the buses go to settle in for the night.

She began to cry, and even though the bus squeaked, sputtered, and clanked,

 Mrs. Grace heard Rachel.

"Oh dear me," said Mrs. Grace. "You must have fallen asleep and missed your stop. 

Let's get you home, little one."

Mrs. Grace turned the bus around, and soon Rachel began to recognize the neighborhood 

around them.

"You had a rough day," said Mrs.Grace. "Tomorrow will be better."

"I don't think so," Rachel said quietly. "I lost my ribbon."

"I'm not so sure about that," said Mrs. Grace as the bus came to a rest at Rachel's corner. 

Mrs. Grace pointed up to a tree, where there was a little red ribbon fluttering in the branches.

"Looks like it's not so lost after all," said the bus driver.

"Thank you, Mrs. Grace!"

"Goodbye, little one."

* * *

Years went by, and Rachel became a teacher at that very same school. One afternoon, 

she waved goodbye to her students as they stepped onto the bus. Then, she placed her 

books in her backpack and tightened the red bow in her hair. It was a windy day and she 

didn't want the ribbon to blow away again.

On the way home, she saw an old woman standing on the sidewalk in her slippers. 

It was Mrs. Grace. Her eyes were filled with worries and what-ifs.

To her, her world seemed strange and different.

"Hello, Mrs. Grace?" Rachel said gently. This was not the first time she had seen her

 like this. "Do you remember me?"

Mrs. Grace did not. She backed away, afraid. Then Rachel untied her bow and showed 

Mrs. Grace her ribbon. The woman's eyes no longer looked so lost after all.

Mrs. Grace took hold of the little red ribbon... and together they walked home.

The End

Thursday Movie Quiz: Games, Nonsense & Movie Trivia

How Should I Publish? Traditional VS Self Publishing AUTHORTUBE

In today's video, I share my thoughts about which publishing path to take:

Self Publishing or Traditional Publishing

Keep in mind, although I do have experience in both worlds, I am NOT an expert. Your own writer's path will be unique. Still, if you need some encouragement, I am happy to share my thoughts on how I decide whether or not to self-publish or seek a traditional route. Check out my website: www.wadebradford.com Visit my blog: www.wadebradford.blogspot.com These are my traditionally published children's books: THERE'S A DINOSAUR ON THE 13th FLOOR https://www.amazon.com/Theres-Dinosaur-13th-Floor-Bradford/dp/0763686654/ PAPA BEAR'S PAGE FRIGHT https://www.amazon.com/Papa-Bears-Page-Fright-Bradford/dp/1441325980/ AROUND THE WORLD IN A BATHTUB https://www.amazon.com/Around-World-Bathtub-Bathing-Globe/dp/1580895441/ These are some of my self-published projects: TOMORROW'S WISH https://www.lulu.com/en/us/shop/wade-bradford/tomorrows-wish/paperback/product-1w49jqvy.html CASTLE WRITEMORE https://www.amazon.com/Castle-Writemore-Workbook-Young-Writers/dp/1499748299 STUCK IN DUCK TOWN https://www.amazon.com/Stuck-Duck-Town-Rainbow-Sprinkles-ebook/dp/B086S5KBGS/

So, You Got Stuck in an Online English Class?

Are you just now finding out that you are going to be taking online classes in the fall? All thanks to that pesky little bug that's been turning our lives upside down? Me too! I'm an English teacher and, for most of my career, I've had the privilege of teaching students in the classroom. However, things are going to be different this fall. So, I'll be using YouTube (and other resources) to provide an exceptional classroom experience, even it if has to be virtual. If you'd like to join this educational adventure, subscribe to my channel. Feel free to leave a comment and ask any questions you have about English courses, anything from Freshman Composition, to literature, to Creative Writing! I'd love to hear about your classroom experiences and expectations. Learn more about my books at: www.wadebradford.com

Star Wars Casablanca

I love a good mashup! I've always felt that the Cantina scene in Star Wars is a lot like Rick's Cafe from Casablanca...

So here's a little re-edit of A New Hope with "As Time Goes By" to sweeten the cinematic experience. Don't worry, Han shoots first.

The Queen Must Have Cheese: Simple Machines for Serious Mice (PART ONE: ...

#simplemachines #kidscience #physicsforkids The Queen wants some cheese, so it's up to Sir Cheddar and his companions to bring back as much delicious dairy goodness as possible! This week's simple machine is a LEVER. By the way, I had a lot of fun making this. Should I make more of these videos? Like, share, and subscribe if you would like to see more adventures with Serious Mice and their Simple Machines.

Josh and Wade Made a New Video

It's been way too long since Josh and I filmed something together. Here's our latest and greatest, written, directed, and edited by Josh. I just put red tissue paper on my face and showed up.

Stay safe, everybody! You think you've been anxious to get out of the house? So has the Coronavirus! Check out this COVID-19 zoom meeting featuring the virus itself! This sketch was written, directed, and edited by my best friend and fellow idiotic cowboy: Joshua Eklund.

Wade's Dictionary: I finally get to AARDVARK

AARDVARK: 

(All right, now we’re finally getting to the good stuff! )

Noun. 

An incredibly mixed-up mammal. It has ears like a donkey, a stretched-out pig snout,shovels for paws,  a giant rat-like tail, and the tongue of an anteater. Even the platypus looks at the Aardvark and says: All this? Too much. 

Etymology: From Afrikaans Dutch, literally means "Earth" (Aard) and "Pig" (Vark). Why not just call them varks? Why bother specifying it's from earth? There's no other kind of pig!

Oh wait...

Elementary school must be awful for the Aardvark, because they would always be called upon first during role, year in and year out, And most likely, it would be the Aardvark that sits in front of the class, sitting closest to the teacher. Such pressure. It’s no wonder Arthur the Aardvark punched his sister. 

Since we’re on the subject Arthur Read (who, now that I have read that his last name is Read, I realize he wouldn’t be sitting in the front of the class -- so I don’t know why he smacked D.W…. Oh wait.. I do… It all comes back to my point!) 

Even Arthur Read, the world’s most famous aardvark was self conscious about his mix-matched looks. Here is the cover of the very first Arthur Book: 

In which Arthur is self-conscious about his nose, thanks to a verbally abusive chimpanzee named Francine. Poor Arthur feels so embarrassed that he contemplates plastic surgery, but ultimately decides to love his own body and accept his nose. 

Except he doesn’t! Look at Arthur a few years later!

 

He totally had work done!

Name Your Fear

If I understand the concept of FOMO (fear of missing out), I don't think I've really experienced it. If I see a photo of someone traveling through Switzerland or lounging around on a yacht, I think "That's awesome!" But I don't think, "Aw man, I'm missing out on all the good stuff in life."

That's because I'm fortunate enough to be surrounded by people I love, working on a career that gives me a sense of purpose, and developing artistic projects that make me feel fulfilled. Also, I'm an introvert. I don't really want to get out much. (I'm writing this during the Covid-19 crisis, and I've embraced the stay-at-home orders without the slightest qualm.)

But I do have some other "writerly fears," which I explore in my latest YouTube Video:

As I mention in the video, the fear that gauls me the most is FOMI (the fear of mediocrity / insignificance )

When I am working on a project, I usually begin by thinking "This is genius!" However, somewhere along the way I start to believe, "No, this is just so-so, sub-par, meh." I sometimes feel the work is not important enough. Or I feel that if I don't have a large audience reading / viewing my work, then it must mean than my work is a failure, or just not interesting enough to warrant attention. i.e.: my work is insignificant. 

This feeling of FOMI doesn't prevent me from working, but it does hinder the joy of the artistic process. For example: this blog post. I am writing it knowing that not many people will read it. The lack of a wide audience doesn't stop me from writing it, and it doesn't stop me from sending it out into the world. Yet, part of me is imagining that these words will be meaningful to many others. And when I look at the view count to find that less than a dozen people have happened upon this little blog, I'll feel just a little melancholy. I'll experience just a bit of uncertainty about what to write next. Where should I turn my ambitions? Should I care about reaching more readers? Should I just write purely for myself? These are fine questions to consider once in a while. But I don't want to be plagued with these questions all the time -- but that's what can happen with FOMI.

I go through a cycle:

Creativity (Hooray -- I made something!)

Disappointment (in the lack of excellence and/or attention )

Comparison (I judge myself based on the achievements of far more successful people)
                    ---> by the way, is this an example of FOMO? Good old fashioned envy?

Uncertainty (about what I should work on next)

And then, after overcoming the combination of self-deprecation, jealousy, and ambivalence, I eventually commit to a new project and the cycle continues.

I've told myself in previous blog posts, that I shouldn't just use this blog as a place to whine. But I'm blogging about this right now because I feel like I'm in a really good place. I'm feeling really fulfilled. Not quite satisfied -- since I'm like Hamilton in that regard -- but I feel great about the creative process.

Keep in mind, that might simply be because I sent a novel to my agent and it has yet to be accepted or rejected. That means I'm going to be in the Limbo Land of Infinite Possibilities. Perhaps, at least  temporarily, I've broken the cycle.

I did some journaling (surprise, surprise) and I discovered some new perspectives. I asked myself some great questions:

Should I try to be creative without any expectations? 

If I want an audience don't I need to have expectations? 

Is the cycle actually useful? Does disappointment, comparison, and uncertainty serve as a natural part of my writing process? (If so, then there's no problem; I just need to accept it!) 

For a little while, I thought: Just think of those negative emotions as the price you pay for working on creative projects. Think of it like exercise. Exercising sucks! It makes you feel exhausted. But it's also good for you.

But ultimately, as I continued to write in my journal, I decided that I don't need that cycle. In fact, I think I can experience more joy if I come up with a new cycle. So that's exactly what I did:

1) CREATE

2) RELEASE

3) CELEBRATE

4) EXPLORE

5) EXPERIMENT

6) CHOOSE

7) REPEAT

Nice verbs, right? Let me elaborate:

1) When I create, I'm making something for someone else. Or maybe I'm making something just for me. I probably want praise for it... but instead of desiring praise I should instead be thinking about the audience (even if that audience is just me). So I've posted three questions on my office wall:

Does it evoke laughter?

Does it spread joy?

Does it encourage empathy?

As a human being, I cherish those three emotional experiences: laughter, joy, and empathy.

That's my mission as an artist, to help foster those experiences within others.

If I am crafting something for someone else, it should probably do one of those things. And if I am having fun during the creative process, then I know I'm on the right track!


2) Release means to let the work go out into the world, and also to let go of expectations, to the best of my ability. I can't control what gets accepted or rejected. I can't control how others respond. But I can release the work. So, my mantra is: Submit, submit, submit (and submit to whatever fate the Universe decrees)

3) I need to celebrate more often. Acknowledge the victories, big and small. Share with others.Celebrate their work as well. Promote my projects with confidence, but know that others might not care as much as I do, and that's okay.

4) There are so many books still left to be read! So much music, film and art. I need to explore -- consume more good stuff. Recharge my batteries by falling in love with the creativity of others. Then, explore further -- really learn from the work of others; study their craft and see what new things I might want to try.

5) Exploration will then lead to experiments. Take chances. Make crap. Try new things. Fail. Try again. See what works and what doesn't. Feel free to stop and try something else... eventually, I will fall in love with a project and then  I will...

6) Choose the next work. In my case, it's usually a book. It's an idea so compelling I have to keep working on it to find out what happens.

My work might not be excellent -- but if there is happiness in the act of creation, and if it brings joy / laughter / empathy to at least one person (even if that one person is just me), then the endeavor is worth it. Insignificance vs. significance is subjective. So is excellence vs. mediocrity. I don't need to fear them. I just need to re-evaluate and re-define. FOMI, I have named you and I have tamed you!

Have you named your fears?

Thursday Movie Quiz: Which Animal is the Best Non-Human Actor of All Time?

What Am I Working On? Wednesday, May 6th 2020 AUTHORTUBE

Authortube Newbie Tag: #authortube #newbietag

Your Minute of Zen 5/2/20

Castle Writemore: Invent a Game

Thursday Movie Quiz: Movie Mash-Ups, Mackenzie's Favorites, and More!

What Am I Working On? Wednesday, April 29th 2020: AUTHORTUBE

What Am I Working On? Wednesday, April 22 2020 AUTHORTUBE

Wade's Dictionary: a cheval, a deux, and a fortiori (walk into a bar)

A CHEVAL: (Adjective / Adverb) 

My guess: This is a fancy French way of asking for a shovel. As in: Ho, ho, ho, hand me a cheval zo I can deeg zis hole.

Actual Meaning:  having a leg on each side of something, or being on both sides. This is how I am at family reunions when I casually bring up politics to see which uncle will throw the first punch. 

This is also how I gamble at roulette, betting one dollar on both red and black, thereby guaranteeing the little ball will land on zero. 

Origin: “Cheval” is French for horse. So, while in France, you can ride a cheval a cheval. 

A DEUX: ( Adjective / Adverb) 

My Guess: What a French musician says before playing: 

“A un and a deux and a -- *plays crazy French jazz*” 

Actual Meaning: involving two people in private

Example: “If that dude is a douche don’t meet with him a deux.” 

A FORTIORI: (Adjective / Adverb)

My Guess: A really, really cool tree fort. Like, the Ferrari of all forts. A Fortiori. 

Actual Meaning: Legal Latin stuff that basically translates into “from the stronger argument.” 

Example: 

“At the age of nine, Sam is still a child. A fortiori, Fred, being eight years old, is also a child.”

Does that make sense? 

Well, it’s wrong! Fred’s a middle-aged golden retriever entering his golden years, and you dead language-Latin-logisticians dare to assume he is a child???

Wade's Dictionary: a capella

A CAPELLA: (Adjective) used to describe singers so in love with their own voice that they don't want any music to accompany them.

Origin: This type of singing was developed directly after the invention of showers.

Etymology: Some believe that "a capella" means "in the manner of chapel music." However, in truth, something similar was first said by an opera singer when the orchestra suddenly stopped playing:

"Ah crapella! What-a happened to the music-a?!" The word eventually became the less profane "a capella" we know and tolerate today.

Side Note: A group of a capella singers in called a "bernard."

Example: Plug your ears; here comes a bernard! 

Lexicographer's Note: 

Why does this word get to be on the first page of the dictionary? Why does it get to be listed before "aardvark"? The audacity! Just becvause there's the letter "a" and a space??? Why is it even one-word? As far as I'm concerned if you got a space between the letters then you're two words, "a capella"! Stop trying to cut in line, you perfect-pitched crooner! 

No Social Distancing for Space Invaders

Wade's Dictionary -- The First Entry

It's official! I've gone bonkers. Since we’re self-isolating due to the Coronavirus, I have decided to pass some of the time by writing my own Dictionary. I guess that would make me a lexicographer.

Samuel Johnson, who took nine years to write the English dictionary, defined a lexicographer as: “a writer of dictionaries; a harmless drudge.”

Let the drudgery begin!

A: Oh crap. This is going to be harder than I thought. How does one define A?

The grade for which every student strives. Except when English majors are in math or science class. Then they’ll be happy with a C.

There, that wasn’t so bad.

But it’s also…

2) A: an article -- it’s that little word before a noun. Darn it. I just said “a” noun. You can’t use the word to define the word! Come on, Wade! You can do better than this.

Hmmm… “A” all by itself is hard to explain. It’s like you are saying “one” -- but maybe not. If a homeless person comes up to me and asks, “Do you have a dollar?” but I have two dollars in my pocket, is the correct and honest answer “No?” (I’m going to say “No” regardless, but I’m just trying to figure this “a” word out.)

The word “a” also gives a clue to the person listening. If I ask you, “Are you a human or an evil alien?” And you start to respond: “I am a...:” I already know you’re going to say human, because that A sound means the next word is going to be a consonant instead of a vowel.

If you say, “I am an…” Then I know you’re about to reveal your evil alien ways and I can get a running start before you blast me with a laser gun. (Of course, maybe you were going to say you were “an especially kind-hearted alien,” and now I’m running away from you like the cowardly xenophobe I am.)

Is that good enough for our first definition? You try defining this first little word, and you’ll see how hard it is! Strangely enough, if you add more As to the word A it gets easy to define.

AA: Alcoholics Anonymous

AAA: The American Autoclub Association

AAAA: Hmmm... maybe this is the Asian American Autoclub Association?

AAAAA: A term of satisfaction delivered by the Fonz.

AAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaa: The sound one makes when falling off a cliff. (The number of As determines the cliff’s height. Each upper case A is “10” yards, each lower case “a” is five feet, which means the person who screamed this fell exactly… Actually, I have no idea. I got a C in math.)