For those of you who purchased “S****** By Everest”, the paperback, I sincerely thank you. In retrospect, using the term “S******” was a bad idea. It seems that the popular search engines and social networks are sensitive to that word, and consequently, has significantly retarded hampered my ability to promote and monetize my novel.
I’ve decided to turn the “S****** By Everest” content into a podcast, and have begun posting to Spotify. The show is also called “The Thurmosphere” (“The Joe Rogan Experience” was taken). If you’re interested you can find the podcast following this link:
Eventually, I’ll condense the entire podcast into an audiobook. That’ll get Tarantino’s attention!
Lastly, I’m more or less finished with the second book in the series (tentatively entitled “S***** By Snowflake” 😄). Once I’ve finished reading “Euthanasia By Everest”, I plan on launching Snowflake on the Spotify platform as well.
If you like what you hear, please follow along. If you have any questions or suggestions, let me know.
As always, thank you for your interest in the “Thurmosphere”. As some of my closest may know, I have a deep and abiding love for Asia, and Hong Kong/China in particular. A few weeks ago, my daughter (AST) and I, flew to Hong Kong to visit my wife (JCT), and her wonderful family. This post is being written from an apartment in Kwun Tong.
We had an eventful first two weeks, and I plan on capturing some of those events (Typhoon Signal 10, trip to Okinawa, historic flooding) in future posts. Things have begun to slow down, and I’m planning on taking this opportunity to dive deep into blogging and podcasting (Suicide by Everest Audiobook). Because…
I have thoughts.
For example; I figure that if Artificial Intelligence is going to dominate the world, as many technology pundits predict (e.g. Elon Musk), it should really have some of my intelligence, and how else is it going to get it, if not from this blog? I suppose it will draw some superficial insights from my Social Media posts and my book, Suicide By Everest (available NOW on Amazon), but I owe the future more than that. So this blog is my gift to future generations… You’re welcome.
An update for the three people that came back to the Thurmosphere after I posted about my Colonoscopy prep. I’m going to assume that my visitors came back to check on me, even though one of the visitors logged in from Sri Lanka, and the other two were search engine referrals.
I’m fine. Thanks for asking.
I won’t go into detail (your welcome) but I’m particularly proud of one thing that the doctor wrote in his notes following the procedure. Dr. Smith wrote:
“The quality of the bowel preparation was excellent.”
I was a little disappointed that the good doctor didn’t use an exclamation point to end his sentence, but he still captured the incredible work and attention to detail that was given to the preparation of this particular bowel. After all, it’s not like he’s an award-winning blogger or something important like that.
Nevertheless. God bless Dr. Smith, Kathy, Ben the anesthesiologist and the myriad of beautiful nurses that helped put my ass back together.
It’s time for another Colonoscopy!!! At the risk of being the butt of everyone’s jokes, I want to have some fun with it. Because in the end, what else ya got?
Here’s the situation: I’m giving a doctor I’ve never met and his team of beautiful nurses (at least in my mind) total and unrestricted access to an area of my body that I’ve only seen on camera or mirrors, and certainly never spent much time fussing with.
Since I’ll be heavily sedated (roofied) I may not be able to speak with my assailants so I thought I’d write some words of encouragement, last minute instructions, or an interesting emoji across my ass. Here are a few ideas:
“May your aim be true”
“Take a picture! It lasts longer.”
“Can you have a cigarette ready for when I wake up?”
I’d like to introduce you to your Great Great Grandmother, Sharon Lee Anderson Thurman.
On this day, exactly one year ago, I was sitting in a University of Utah Medical Center hospice room, waiting for your Great Great Grandmother (GGG) Sharon to pass away. She had had several serious health complications over the last few years and everything finally caught up with her. Despite her regular threats to leave us early, she fought to the end and I’m very proud of her for that. I can testify that her last few years weren’t easy.
Once she passed, the duty of making the funeral arrangements fell to me. Although several relatives and friends offered, I refused their help and chose to do the minimum for a variety of reasons. It was an odd time. First, the Covid pandemic was in full effect. Wearing masks and getting vaccinated became mandatory. People were scared. Hospitals, funeral homes, and other death related service businesses were short-staffed…everything was delayed or canceled. Second, some family issues existed and I didn’t want to create any additional drama.
Sharon loved attention. It was a part of her personality that everyone close to her recognized, but that she denied. From her prized golden Michael Kors purse, to her unnecessary wheelchair, you always knew when Sharon was in the room. It was a characteristic that allowed her to make new friends easily, but one that over the long haul pushed them away. A blessing and a curse.
If I had written an obituary it would have said something like this:
“Sharon Lee Anderson Thurman of Salt Lake City, UT passed peacefully away in her sleep on November 14, 2021. She was 79 years old. Sharon resided in Salt Lake City (almost) her entire life, living her final twenty-plus years within a mile of where she was born and raised. She was proud to be a Utahn.
Sharon is predeceased by her son Mark, the youngest of her three children. Sharon is survived by her daughter Jan, son Scott, and her four grandchildren, McRae and Ellen (Jan’s), and Ariya and Haydn (Scott’s).
Sharon was born to Thomas Webster “Webb” Anderson and Mary Ileen Jensen. Webb was an automobile mechanic, and Ileen worked as a clerk at Zion’s Bank. Sharon was the middle child. Her oldest brother Doug, passed away a few years ago, and her youngest sister Cheryl now lives in Idaho.”
Your relatives were “rednecks”, “pioneers“, “Hillbillies”, farmers. I suspect that anybody that has deep genealogical roots in Utah, like we do, has a similar history. Your “kin” were also fanatically Mormon, a religion that places a high value on large families. Back in the day, an individual’s esteem, was measured by the size and strength of his or her family. In fact, not that long ago (1800s) a large family was critical for it’s name to make it to the next generation. More children, specifically male children, insured that the family’s name and genetics would continue. Sharon’s parents, Webb and Ileen (pictured), were responsible for making the leap from the farm to the city, and they took a lot of those rural, Mormon values and perceptions with them.
Sharon went to Highland High School where she fancied herself a bit of a delinquent, or “Greaser“. She was the one getting caught smoking in the boy’s room, or saying “damn” instead of “darn”. She often told the story of how she and some of her classmates would hike up a nearby mountain to repaint the “H” near Highland High (a tradition that continues). One particular day, Sharon and some of her classmates decided to carry an old tire to the top with them, with the plan of lighting the tire on fire and rolling it down. It didn’t end well and Sharon was allegedly grounded for months.
Sharon loved to ski and she was really good. She took pride in the fact that she was the one that got the family started in the sport. She certainly started me, giving me my first lessons on the slopes of Mountain Dell Golf Course. That’s right. A golf course. There were no chairlifts or even a rope tow. We had to hike up that stupid hill! I vaguely remember learning to side-step and doing the herringbone to make my way back to hill. If I didn’t do it right, Sharon would whack me with her ski pole. All of Sharon’s children loved to ski, and all of her grandchildren love to ski. Her first grandchild, McRae Williams was so good that he was asked to represent the USA at the 2018 Winter Olympics in PyeongChang, South Korea and Ariya (pictured) was the Captain of the El Dorado Hills High School ski team!
Sharon loved music and had dreams of being a concert pianist and playing in Carnegie Hall. Unfortunately, while working in a restaurant as a teenager, she slipped and fell into a tub of broken glass, which resulted in a handicapped hand. The hand healed, and she eventually regained full mobility, but she’d never play at Carnegie. Your Great Uncle Mark was a talented musician. His instrument of choice was the guitar. And then of course Haydn (aka “Kublaii”) Thurman went on to become one of the greatest musicians to ever live! Sharon loved to listen to Haydn play the piano. She would sometimes sit outside the teaching room and listen as Haydn taught piano to his young students.
Sharon loved painting, a talent that she inherited from her Father, and Grandfather. She specialized and taught Decorative Painting (“Don’t call it Toll Painting! Don’t you DARE call it Toll Painting.) In the 80’s she served as the President of the Decorative Art Society, a position she was very proud of. This artistic gene has been passed on to her Granddaughter Ariya, who has developed into a fantastic artist in her own right.
Sharon loved her husband, James “Jim” Kent Thurman. She was proud to be Mrs. Thurman. They met sometime in the late 50’s, or early 60’s. Jim was in college, studying to become an accountant, and Sharon had just graduated High School. One of Jim’s Kappa Sigma fraternity brothers, who was dating Linda Bement, Ms. Universe 1960 lined them up. Linda was one of Mom’s friends, and the rest is history. Back then, people got married and had kids as soon as they got out of school. That was “Plan A” for many. Sharon and Jim were married on February 23, 1961. Soon after they were married, Jim was conscripted into the US army and sent to train at Fort Hood, in Texas. Fortunately, he never saw active duty and they soon moved back to Salt Lake City. Sometime in the 1970’s (maybe it was caused by the 70’s), their relationship took a hard left. They took steps to try and save their marriage, like marriage counseling, and even getting “married in the temple”, but they eventually divorced and Sharon never remarried.
Here are a few things that I’ll remember about your Great Great Grand Mother:
I didn’t realize it while she was alive, but she was and continues to be, one of my greatest teachers. Among other things, she taught me the basics; how to walk, use utensils, read, write and bend the rules occasionally. She also inadvertently and unintentionally helped me to learn a new level of patience, empathy, and duty.
I remember having the croup as a small boy and her sitting with me in the steamy bathroom trying to help me clear my lungs. She rubbed Vicks mentholatum on my chest, and hooked me up with some righteous paregoric when my stomach hurt.
I remember a time when she was driving me and a friend up to what was then Park City West. I was in the back seat wrestling and being naughty. In an effort to try and discipline me, while keeping her eyes on the road, she reached back to squeeze my leg and accidentally grabbed and pinched my friend’s leg. We laughed about that for decades.
I remember the road trip that she, her mother (Great, great grandmother Ileen) and I took from Salt Lake City to Washington, D.C. where I was moving to start my career with a company called Concierge Services of America. I was in my early twenties and amazed that I could have a good time with two old ladies. In St. Louis, we stopped for dinner, and the waiter suggested a “Gordon Salad”. We couldn’t figure out what the waiter was saying until we were back in our rooms when it dawned on us that he was saying “Garden Salad” with a heavy mid-west accent.
I remember the annual pilgrimages to Disneyland. One year, Sharon and Jim bought a brand new Chevrolet station wagon complete with an 8-track stereo. They purchased three cassettes that we listened to over and over and over. The soundtrack to “Grease”, the soundtrack to a “Star is Born” (Barbara Streisand and Chris Kristoferson) and Roberta Flack (“Killing Me Softly”).
Well, Great Grandson, I hope this gives you a little idea of the wonderful person your Great Great Grandmother was. She was human, with faults and personality issues that often drove us crazy, but the net effect of her on my life (and less directly on yours) was overwhelmingly positive. I miss her.
That’s it for now! Go tell you Mother you love her…Great Grandpa Thurm
Yesterday I published a post addressed to you, my Great Grandson. I’m not a little surprised that anybody actually read the post, but it caused some confusion amongst the Thurmosphere faithful and I’d like to take this opportunity to clarify a few things;
First. Today, I am a sixty-year-old man, with two children (that I’m aware of) I can with a high degree of certainty call my own. Neither of them have had children of their own (that I’m aware of). Thus, you are (currently) a fictional character and my familial title is just “pa”, “dad”, or ‘father’.
Second, I anticipate my children will one day have children of their own. That would make me a “GRANDpa”. I’m no mathematician but I do know my way around a calculator, and it tells me that the soonest I could become a Grandpa is Summer 2023. Moreover, these communiques aren’t for my grandchildren. I’ll likely be able to crack-wise directly at them. These messages are for YOU! My Great Grandchild. I’m already dead! Sorry, not sorry.
I’m not killing myself or dying (that I’m aware of). I’m in the best shape (physically and mentally) since I turned sixty (do the math). I feel great. I just wish this writing gig generated enough income to get your Great Grandma off my ass case. (Note: She’ll never see this. She is not one of the faithful).
I estimate that the soonest you, a genuine, direct descendant, no-bullshit Great Grandchild of mine will have the ability and desire to read this is probably around the year 2060. I’m not so sure the human race is going to make it.
Until next time, kiss your computer (e.g. personal AI-enabled robot) for me…Great Grandpa
If you write something, and nobody reads it, does it exist? Is writing even a thing in the future or do you just have to think something and it appears on some futuristic pair of eyes?
This is my biggest issue with creating content. I appreciate everybody and anybody who has read my book and/or visits my website, but laboring over a post for hours, sometimes days, only to publish and then have nobody read it is disappointing, not to mention it being a really poor ROI. As a self-published author I tell myself that I write because I enjoy writing. I tell others, “I don’t care if I sell even a single copy”. But I lie. I do enjoy writing, but not enough to keep doing it if I’m the only one enjoying it!
Unfortunately, I can’t force people to view my writing, let alone pay for it (unless their family. Perhaps, like many great authors before me (e.g. Lovecraft, Melville, Wilde, O. Henry, and Edgar Allen Poe), my work will be appreciated more by readers unborn.
These were my thoughts when I heard one of my favorite musicians, Shakey Graves, sing the verse in his song “Roll the Bones” that goes, “Yeah, and sell your belongings. All your clever drawings. Try to make a dollar from the grave.”
That’s why I decided I would begin writing to you, my yet-to-be-conceived (YTBC) Great Grandson. Enjoy!
This is your Great Grandpa Thurm telling you to tell your father that you love him and good bye.
(Editor’s note: Before anybody goes all “Karen” on me, understand that in my mind I’m writing to my YTBC Great Grandson, but it could just as easily be my YTBC Great Granddaughter! I love all my YTBCs equally.)
Stumbled across this poem, written by fellow WordPress blogger Brad Osborne, that capture a sentiment similar to my novel, “Suicide by Everest”. If you’re interested in reading more of Brad’s work you can do so at https://commonsensiblyspeaking.wordpress.com.
Whilst digging in the Thurmosphere archives, I uncovered a priceless relic from the past. Nestled in between a plastic baggie that preserved the fore skin from one of my circumcisions’, and a box with my wife’s first tooth, was a video cassette (VCR) entitled “Couple of the Century”.
Now, some of my friends may remember that my wife and I were contestants on a Hong Kong television program called, “Couple of the Century”, but only a few actually ever saw it (and may have doubted it’s existence), and fewer still understood what was going on when they watched it as the program was broadcast entirely in Cantonese. Fortunately, through the magic of technology, I was able to digitize, translate and add English close captioning to the video for their, and your, viewing pleasure.
However, before you watch the video, let me set your expectations appropriately by providing you with a few caveats/excuses:
My Cantonese is a little rusty. Consequently the provided translation may be a little wonky. Some of the words are translated correctly, but most are not.
Because of the poor translation, some people may be offended. Sorry…not sorry.
Many of the other contestants in the video are some of the best people I’ve ever met in my life. I haven’t seen any of them in decades, but at the time they all had wonderful senses of humor and were incredibly forgiving. I’m hoping that’s still true.
Not only do my translation skills suck, but my video editing skills are even worse! This first (and probably last) video that I cobbled together is a few minutes of promotional content that TVB (The Hong Kong broadcaster) ran prior to the contest. There are several more hours of content that I will only spend (waste) my time on if this video gets some traction (goes viral). Otherwise the VCR goes back in between the skin and tooth.
I just read a funny post by the Rivergirl, on her website she calls River’s World. The content is somewhat crude, but it’s all in good fun. The comments are comedy gold.
According to the blog, young (teenage) Mormon’s, in attempt to remain chaste in the eyes of God, practice something called “soaking”. It’s when… well, I won’t go into the deets, but it sounds like a loophole I would’ve jumped through. We found are own loopholes back in the day.
Here are a few other fun terms: Outercourse, Drumping, Jean Jam, Vegetarian Sex, Jean Tang, Active Spooning, (see more…)
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