\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2067025-Michael-Carson-in-London
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: E · Article · Other · #2067025
This piece was published in iPhoneLife Magazine


Living The iDream: Michael Carson in London






The amazing thing about London is…

They have really lousy weather.

Having a background in creative writing I sometimes get these random requests to speak in front of large crowds of eager writers looking to put their indelible stamp on the literary world of fiction. Why? I’m not sure, perhaps it has something to do with all the time I put in staring at the stars late at night… whatever it is; now it’s taking me to London.

I boarded my flight about 6pm after spending 2 hours going through all the security steps it takes these days to hop a plane across the pond… that’s about when I realized I left my powerbag Deluxe (powerbag.com) backpack at the check-in counter with all my gear inside, including my iPhone, iPad, and all the cases I planned on using during my stay with the Brits… you see, among other things, I’m what you might call a serial “case-ist”.

After a brief run-in with an Air Marshall who mistook my urgency for that of a possible terrorist (I’m sure the extreme look of panic on my face didn’t help… and I was screaming loudly that I had left my powerbag full of devices in the terminal) I managed to retrieve my possessions and settle in for the 14 hour flight to Londontown.

I’d love to tell you I was sitting in First Class enjoying a Filet Mignon and a bottle of Perrier while bantering back and forth with Angelina Jolie about our plans to run off and start a new life together now that she had decided to leave Brad Pitt for me… but that’s not what happened. Although the kind folks who were footing the bill to have me ramble on about whatever comes to mind (which is basically what I do when I talk about writing… did I mention I’m a famous writer? I’m not) they certainly weren’t going to take responsibility for Angelina leaving Brad… so I was seated in the coach, umm… err, “economy” class section.

Once we had leveled out at 20,000 feet and hit our cruising speed of 600 mph, I decided to check my email. I pulled out my iPad and tapped the mail icon. At just the same moment the list of unread emails populated the screen, I heard a soft voice asking me what it was I had my iPad wrapped in. Turning to my left, I noticed a young woman with beautiful blue eyes and a smile that could light up New York City. As I tried unsuccessfully to appear suave and sophisticated, I introduced myself to “Amy”. I explained to her that this was not just any case, it was a Portenzo (Portenzo.com) hand-tooled Italian leather “Limited Edition 76” with the Magna-Cover option, which allows the sleeping iPad nestled inside to “magically” awaken upon opening… I could tell she was impressed because she was still awake.

After dinner was served, we engaged in a long conversation covering subjects all the way from ex-boyfriends (not mine!) to our favorite magazines (of course I told her mine was iPhoneLife), I could tell she liked me by the way she suddenly got up and nervously excused herself to the restroom, I was in… There would be 10 more hours to seal the deal with Amy.

I remember thinking, as the pilot announced our impending landing, that it sure was taking Amy a long time in the restroom… but I wasn’t worried, I didn’t like her that much anyway.

Once we landed at Heathrow, I readied my iPhone by dressing her down in a black LifeProof (lifeproof.com) case, another in the arsenal I had brought along in my powerbag. The LifeProof case is dirtproof, shockproof, snowproof, and most important for London’s famously wet climate… waterproof. I was ready for anything that circumstance could possibly throw my way, whether it be a phone call, email, text, or even a slip of the grip trip, my iPhone was covered in all its MilSpec glory by the good folks at LifeProof.

I checked in to the Premiere Inn Hotel about 6pm local London time. Having gotten little in the way of shut eye on the flight over, I was looking forward to resting my weary head on a pillow. This was not to be the case though as I glanced at my iPhone and noticed I was scheduled to have dinner with two of the event organizers and their wives. I had just enough time to shower and shave before I was due to be interrogated about America and all things pertaining thereof.

I arrived at the restaurant around 8:30pm, just in time to witness a heated debate between the two couples I was about to have dinner with. Introducing myself, I came to find out Mr. & Mrs. Standiford were arguing with Mr. and Mrs. Gerondale about whether to order me a dish called “Bangers & Mash” or the more familiar to Americans “Fish & Chips”. Having never even heard of Bangers & Mash, and being the brave soul that I am, I opted in on that one. As the waiter seated us I noticed that Margaret (Gerondale) was staring at my powerbag messenger, she thought it odd that I would bring a messenger bag to dinner. I explained that I used it as a “man-purse” so to speak, and that I carried my iPhone and iPad in it (as stylish as the ful designed powerbag messenger is, I was also looking to make an impression) Margaret’s husband Mark then asked about my iPad as he was thinking of purchasing one (thank goodness I still had it wrapped in my Portenzo “Limited Edition 76”… after all, first impressions are everything!) I lifted the iPad out of the powerbag messenger and handed it to Mark.

This is where the sleep that I lost on the flight over would have been a plus… when Mark had finished with his iPad inquisition, he handed it back to me… not wearing my glasses and being a bit fuzzy, I stood up and reached over in front of Margaret to grasp it. At the very moment the waiter was bringing my much-ballyhooed Bangers & Mash to the table, and as I turned to my left to slide the iPad into my messenger… I elbowed the waiter in the most sensitive region I possibly could have, which in turn caused him to double over in the kind of pain that only a man can truly understand, sending both my plate, and Mark’s, into Margaret’s lap…

There was a long moment of silence, a really long moment…

And then, AHHHHHHHHHrrrrGGGGGG! Margaret’s scream was so gutturally high-pitched and loud that the entire restaurant ground to a halt… complete silence.

I thought to myself “that had to hurt”… duh.

Bangers and Mash is English “comfort food”… sausage and mashed potatoes, served hot… in this case, really hot. Mark raced to his wife’s side and began scooping off the B&M with his bare hands… uh, yeah, his scream was almost comparable to Margaret’s except a little more of a tenor rather than soprano, nonetheless, the ensuing ruckus was nothing short of comedic genius… kinda like an old Marx brothers movie with English accents, definitively sublime.

The next day I was scheduled to speak at the Creative Writers of London conference. I spent the day exploring the city’s many tourist attraction’s including Buckingham Palace. Around 3:45pm I was strolling down Charing Cross Road when I spied a “Harry Potter” themed store. Thankfully I had my iPad sitting in a black, Italian leather bound Pad & Quill (padandquill.com) “Contega” case, which I thought appropriate for the HP theme.

Upon entering the small shop, I noticed a gray bearded, slightly balding man standing in the corner waving a stick back and forth muttering some kind of quasi-muggle incantation that sounded strangely like the Star-Spangled Banner. As I edged closer to the corner where he was standing, I noticed he had a “practical spells for practitioners of the magical arts” guidebook in his hand; he looked up at me, smiled, and asked “Can I help you?” “Yes, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind a few questions about your shop” I replied. Even before “Charles” had a chance to answer I extended my hand and introduced myself.

We spent the next 2 hours talking about everything you would want to know about Harry Potter, including the English pride associated with J.K. Rowling’s seminal works. I can honestly tell you, when you hop the pond from the States to England you really do get a sense of muggleness that can only be described as surreally magical… any moment I was expecting Dumbledore to pop in and ask me what my purpose was. I had recorded the entire conversation on my Pad & Quill wrapped iPad. Cool.

I arrived back at the Hotel just before 7pm. Given that I had about an hour before I was scheduled to make a mockery of the fine art of literary science, I decided to write about my visit thus far. I had set up my now BRUDAcase (brudacase.com) enshrined iPad in the corner by the window overlooking the street below. As I recounted the initial events of my journey abroad in semi-chronological order, I felt as if there might be a story here worth telling… uh, yeah… more on that later. I closed the hand-crafted cherry wood BRUDAcase and began preparations for my historically insignificant speech.

Donning my favorite Sevens, a pair of Clark’s, and a well-worn Henley crew I felt as if I were appropriately underdressed for my literary tour de force speechmaster debut. I arrived at London’s Albert Hall a full 15 minutes ahead of schedule and proceeded to survey my Kingdom. As I had already planned on using my iPad’s presentation capabilities to augment my poorly developed public speaking skills, I decided to set up said iPad in my BRUDAcase to the left of the podium enabling me to use my now Pad & Quill LBB wrapped iPhone as a remote. Stepping to the podium and surveying the masses that had gathered to hear me blather, I truly felt as though the world were my oyster… at least I thought so.

I had decided to hit 3 topic points, Inspiration, Execution, and Monetization… if nothing else; I am certainly not a traditionalist. Opening the Pad & Quill LBB as if it were some sort of secret little black book (LBB) containing all my scribbled musings of the literary arts, I tapped the Keynote icon enabling my BRUDAcase enshrined iPad to post the first of many visual aids on the screen above and behind the podium where I stood.

My opening line was classic… “Four score and forty years ago…” oops, that’s not it. Nope, it was more like “My name is Michael Carson and I’m a writer”… I could hear a little chuckle down in front as I struggled to remember anything about what I actually do. I remember thinking to myself whether or not I turned off the lights in my hotel room… I was stuttering. I suddenly felt as if I had lost the gift of gab that got me here in the first place. I heard more laughter and then about 10 seconds of silence.

Just then I thought to myself “What would Marsha do?” You see, when I was a kid “The Brady Bunch” was the most popular show on television. Every Friday at 8pm most of America was tuned to ABC television to witness the comedy series that would inspire a psychological condition known as the “Brady Bunch Syndrome” for its unrealistic portrayal of second-marriage family life. In one of the more popular episodes Maureen McCormick’s character “Marsha” was preparing for an upcoming class speech. Having expressed concern for her ability to remain calm during her presentation, she was advised to picture her audience in their underwear, thereby reducing the intimidation factor to the ridiculous. It worked… and thinking about it made me laugh so hard I just started talking… and talking, and talking.

I began recounting all the reasons I wanted to be a writer, from the proto-typical Jack Kerouac lifestyle answer to my sincerest desires to change the world for the better… one word at a time. I spoke of my initial efforts to monetize my chosen profession in the guise of a struggling copywriter, as well as my career making bid for immortality as a confidentially bound Storyblocker. I touched on my feelings about how truly powerful the written word is and how important it is to have fun in whatever you choose to do. That’s key. I worked for years just to pay the bills, writing for others in an effort to help them finish their stories. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed my work immensely… but at the end of the day it wasn’t my dream passion to be a Storyblocker.

So then I started talking about my current fascination with technology, especially the Apple iPhone and iPad, and how they have affected my writing. I lifted my iPhone 4s out of the Pad & Quill LBB and held it up to the audience. I started talking about the different ways I use them to help me in my daily search for the perfect group of words that will enthrall and engage my readers. At the close of my speech I thanked the organizers for their hospitality and graciousness, and expressed my sincerest desire that the audience find their muse, so that they might experience the joy and happiness that writing creatively offers… just as I heard myself repeating my hopes for all the aspiring writers in the audience, I felt a trembling in the floor that began to vibrate through my whole body. This wasn’t anything I would normally have expected to be happening, not at all anything I would expect… I remember thinking to myself “there are no earthquakes in London, are there?”

Looking out at my audience I was surprised to see that no one was moving, in fact, no one was even talking… everyone was looking at me, completely oblivious to the now constant shaking in the auditorium… I closed my eyes and began to pray… “Dear Lord, remember to keep your tray in the upright position…” Huh?

I could smell coffee. I opened my eyes and there in front of me were those beautiful blue eyes, and the smile that could light up New York City.

“It’s time to fasten your seatbelt Mr. Carson, would you like some coffee before we land?”

“Uh… no thanks Amy, coffee gives me weird dreams when I sleep…”


Contact Me

writtenbymichaelcarson@gmail.com






ACCLAIM




"Michael was a favorite student when I was teaching... his unbridled wit and sharp sense of humor, not to mention keen sense of irony, never ceased to fascinate an old teacher like me"


-Abraham Bramovitz Ph D




michaelcarson

© 2011 TERMS & CONDITIONS
© Copyright 2015 Michael Carson (michaelcarson at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2067025-Michael-Carson-in-London