Almost Viral

Between Rick and me, we have several muses, one cartoonist (with one dialogue consultant always close at hand), two photographers, two musicians, one professional speaker, two cooks, one oil painter, two videographers, two restaurant critics, two writers, two editors, and one policeman.

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Rick is the policeman.

Every blog that seeks to establish itself anywhere close to the mainstream needs to have at least one guardian of (mostly) correct spelling and grammar conventions, socially respectable content, clean(ish) language, and gentle humor.

As I came out of the womb with a burning desire to stick my monkey fingers up people’s noses to see what they would do, I’m rarely our first choice for this position.

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God bless Rick the Co-Editor: he always laughs sincerely at the first draft. He even waits a beat or two before he switches hats and becomes Rick the Decency Police.

Then, as he freshens my drink, he’ll casually mention, “Hey, if we change the word “bastard” to “doofus,” delete the F-bomb from the second paragraph, and drop the line about wanting to smack that co-worker between the eyes with a piece of frozen haddock, I think we’re good to go!”

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Sometimes I’ll push back and argue “literary merit,” or “contemporary usage,” or some such piffle. But inevitably, through some mind control device he learned in college, or Boy Howdy charm, or reminding me that we have financial responsibilities and like to eat, I find I have been out-monkey fingered. Miraculously, we wake up the next morning and we still have jobs and a readership that will occasionally even leave comments.

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My inner simian occasionally balks at what feels like censorship, but my outward human bean is almost always grateful for the intervention. Anyways–and don’t tell Rick this–half the time, I’m outrageous in the first draft just to tickle his funny bone. It’s SO much fun to see him snort merlot out his nose.

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