The X FacTOR

It ain’t everyday
that one gets to audition for a major television show here in the Ohio Valley but ole Tor recently did.

Soooo here’s how it all came about.
Tor views ads for The X Factor auditions on WTRF.
Tor Es his audition submission and gets a confirmation date.
This truly surprised my ole arse/brain, greatly.
With all the
"Special" attention that
MammyMaterWifeyWu and moi have become
accustomed to expect I never dreamt of
gettin' into the auditions.

NOTE:
WifeyWuMammyMater
shall henceforth be onlinely know as
Mrs. H.

Soooooo,
it was a warm eve with a few rain droplets gently making their way to the sidewalk.
I walked on up to the
Capital Theater Ballroom's
entrance, jaunted upstairs,
waited a bit, in line, and signed in as #64.
Then I went to the back of the room and found a chair in a corner.
I watched the first 32 auditioning folk and then took a bathroom break.
Some of moi’s
"Friends" are there and they,
moi supposes, were makin’ bets, on whether
I’d whiter or go through with the audition,
sooooo
leavin’ then returnin’ may have given Them a wee bit of chagrin or even a chuckle.

Wow!
God and Jesus
REALLY got a workout from most of the singers before moi.
Many of me fellow chanters were pretty fair to great and could earn a livin’ as lounge or backup singers.
Two or three, of the contestants before Tor, could be world class songsters.

Anywho, as everyone was called-up they went to the stage
via the audience.
So I decide to leave when #62 was beckoned onstage and enter the stage from the side rather than walkup, back to the crowd.
This would also give me wee “Friends” the thought that moi
'twere chickening-out, as I waited just outside the main entrance to the ballroom.

Now some info, the auditions were sponsored by
WVNCC
[De facto:
West Virginia Northern Christian Club]
&
OVMC
[De facto:
Ohio Valley Meanie Christians]

Some HisTORy: I have an A.S., A.A., a culinary arts and business certificates from WVNCC with an overall 3.25 GPA.
Mrs. H. earned likewise with a,
cum laude, 3.67 GPA.
Me GPA would’ve been higher but, since I knew it was only workin' for $10,000 a sq. ft. wallpaper, I did a few experiments to answer some questions, e.g.,
Q. Could I pass the first Developmental Psychology
(An accelerated self-study course)
exam with zero studying?
A. Yes (Barely, but yes)
I also opted for a B in Philosophy since we had a
___fill in the blank___ professor.
How ___fill in the blank___ was she?
“There were no riots after Martin Luther King was assassinated,” that's how.
The kiddies may of bought that but this old ape KNOWS better and stated such.
I done did a lot a statin' in that, and some other, classes.

Anywho, one day, I decided to try the alumni resources.
I went to see the advisor in charge of findin’ employment for students and alumni. His advice to moi was that
“You [I] will see Jesus standing over your shoulder one day.”
However he did have a job contact that sent me to an office in The Mull Center, an unoccupied office for a
no where to be seen company.

I’m sure there are many, MANY of you with similar tales.

I suppose the recent tuition increase request, by
WVNCC, must be to cover the cost of sponsoring community events that help
MAKE THE WORLD SAFE...
...FOR SINGERS.

Now, OVMC aheeeeem had moi standing in a un-busy ER
(moi and some teenager with a hurt foot were all that were there) for 1.5 hours whilst havin’ a major heart attack. No one attended to me in that time except a few people with snotty attitudes and great advice, e.g.,
“Don’t breath so fast you may hyperventilate and pass-out,” wonderful information for someone who’s dying.

Then a bit after 90 minutes I managed to utter
“I hope everyone here gets their Tomás de Torquemada Awards.” A couple of minutes later a doctor enters and says
“No one here is trying to torture you.”
The first thing that came to mind was to retort
“You’re right, you’re not trying – you’re succeeding!”
However
NO WORDS would come outta me yap;
I was in
TOO much pain but
I was somewhat surprised that
ANYONE there knew who
Torquemada ‘twere.
Then I, making it to the sink with great effort and pain, vomited.
A snotty nurse came in to give me a
“Bucket” and chastised me for not,
I don’t know,
holding it?

At that point I got lots of attempts to take blood.
The fact that there wasn’t any blood going through my body didn’t seem to bother, interest nor deter the happy poker.
Then, finally, someone hooked-up an EKG.
A bit later the place was like a
REAL, the kind you see on the tube,
ER.
No smart mouths, just people running, getting me ready to be shipped to
Wheeling Hospital where major heart surgeries take place.

Such ER treatment is not unheard of.
The first blog I read, about heart attacks, was by a woman, at a big city hospital, that was given Benadryl for her heart attack after waiting two hours.

NOTE: OVMC and Wheeling Hospital put on a show of
being enemies, lawsuits and such, but I believe it’s all community theater and when that curtain drops the two high-five each other over their fine performances.

I had wonderfully, amazingly competent care at
Wheeling Hospital.
The two days in IC before the operation and two days afterwards I was under constant surveillance.
Every time I woke there was one or more nurses and/or doctors watching me.
The care was truly world class.
Then...
I went to the regular ward and religious loonies started invading.
Only three times as I remember.
Not a TOO awfully huge bunch of crap for someone who registered as
No Religious Preference.
Oh, at OVMC I was asked twice about my Religious Preference which I answered
“None, I’m an Atheist”
but moi ‘twere too beaten-down scared
(Over five hours of massive heart attack can do that to a guy)
to add the latter while at WH, a Jesuit Hospital.
(I answered “None” but left the "I’m an Atheist" out)
That was after my heart cauterization, in IC.

Oh well, let’s see, the first incident happened when an old dude, must-a been about ninety , came in to my room, yammered awhile and began to leave uttering
“May god bless you”
to which moi retorted
"Thank you for your kind thought."
At that point the old dude turned his head and
IF LOOKS COULD KILL
I’d of been stone cold dead right then.
The next one was an old lady.
She yammered and then added
“It's all in Jesus’ hands, isn’t it?”
I said nothing.
She repeated
"It’s all in Jesus’ hands, ISN'T IT?"
Moi was induced to answer
“Absolutely, positively, 100% NO!”
She stared at the wall for a second and said
"Absolutely," then left.
The next day a person, in religious costume, came in and began a ceremony for the dude in the next bed.....
I turn the TV speaker
(individual audio unit only in my bed)
up so I don’t have to hear.
They get louder, the television is increased in volume.
The incantations rise in decibels and so does
The Beverly Hillbillies' audio.
I put it on max and next to my ear, finally they leave but...was that for the other dude or moi?
Choose whichever ye wishith.

BTW, when I first came out of surgery there was some talk, I've been told, of keeping me for a month @ WH
BUT
after not recanting
and
praising the prevailing mythology –
out the freakin’ door moi went and I ‘twere
D E L I G H T E D,
in a
just dragged/crawled outta the grave sort-a-way,
to head home.

Oh yeah, a week after returning home I went to have a checkup per instructions.
The choices of GP are limited.
We went to visit a doctor that will see you, payment up-front.
Now, I know this dude doesn’t like moi
(Not a small club boo phuckin’ hoo)
BUT
I’ve been recently sawed in two, several times, and ain't in a arguin’ mood.
This dude GETS ME on his table, keeps me sittin’ for awhile, finally comes over, hooks-up the BP, I begin to feel quite woozy, I tell him I'm 'seeing purple and yellow spots that are getting bigger', he keeps moi sittin' up,
then my BP crashes, I pass-out, I wake,
WFD ambulance is called per doctors' orders to one of his staff.
(Ain't it amazing how many doctors need an all female harem,
I mean staff ?)
So, now moi ‘tis back at Wheeling Hospital, in the ER.
The ER doctor keeps tellin’ moi that it’s
“...all in the hands of the man on the sixth floor.”
At least methinks it ‘twere 6th or 7th or 8th but
THAT doesn't matter.
After about five ‘plugs’ for the
Sixth Floor Dude he explains that there is no 6th floor, he means Odin/God and says soooooooooo.

And now, back to the audition.....
So, I wait till
#63 is done, enter, walk to the stage, give a brisk leap (About a ft.) up and walk over to the mic. Since some folks did a bit of yammering before they sang I thought I’d start with a joke, that was going to be
“Is this the auditions for Last Geezer Standing?”
I thought that would get me a nice chuckle since I was BY FAR the oldest contestant, but...nothing.
Then I hear someone yell something at moi.
The voice rings-out again.
I bend forward and ask
WHAT!?!?
One of the judges says,
“The microphone is off.”
"Oh," is my ever so clever response.
I have no idea if the previous user or I, inadvertently, switched it off.
So, I turn the mic on and say
“Well in that case, I guess I'll sing one of my Internet hits...
Incy...Wincy...DNA.”
I raise my right hand high, open me mouth and out comes
a “BURRRRP!”
That gets a laugh...then I start singing.....


During me number I did hear some ‘okay’ and a few ‘strange’ sounds from the crowd.
I finish with a big “Thank you, Wheeling!”
I walk over and replace the mic.
I was expecting a smattering of applause,
but there 'twere zero!
It was like at the end of the overture from
"The Producers'" song
(original movie)
Springtime For Hitler
minus the one dude in the film.
Silence.
Not even crickets.
So I take a couple of steps to exit
THEN a dang fine outburst of applause and cheers.

Moi 'twere halted in me tracks.
So I stop, give the audience somewhat of a suspicious glance, turn, face the crowd, smile and do a fine Edwardian bow,
and (most happily) leave.
Methinks I had the loudest
(sounded that way onstage)
reaction of the eve.
People do love a freak show.

That audio doesn't covey Tor's considerably vast,
emotionally and ass-dimensionlly,
stage presence.

I was amazed that I was allowed to audition but after that response I thought I might, may, perhaps, possibly could make the Top Ten for the next level. I didn't but I was proud to do my part to make the
WORLD SAFE FOR SINGERS.

Too bad there were local judges and not an
applause meter
for moi 'tis sure I'd of made the Top Two -
at that point.

If I had moved on moi 'twere going to do
(Not being constrained by the audition's 01:30 time limit)
Queen's
"Bohemian Rhapsody"
a la Tor.

If you're not familiar with the song, here's a version minus, WAAAAY MINUS, the amazingly grand pathos and undeniably bombastic logos moi was plannin' to project.


To have recorded my vocal of BH would’ve been an extremely pale representation of the energetic choreography and grandiose theatrics moi had planned; it is such an intensive performance moi may have died, literarily, on stage. Wouldn’t that have been a gas, just think, a thespianistic death scene and a biological one combined!
I was going to ask for a headset rather than a hand mic, too.
Oh yeah, I 'twere also going to change the lyrics
“His monstrosity” to
'the theocracy' or 'the oligarchy'
perhaps "Devil" to ‘savior’[?]
&
the last “Me” to 'we'.

Anywho, the entire experience was a gas and I'd recommend it for most folks.

Here’s my latest iconoclastically humorous video.

BTW: The person of the "...rich Jew around" event in “POPE GUY The Pontiff Man” ‘tis not moi but I was there and if someone, GUESS WHO, hadn’t shot his big mouth off, well.
Oh fudge, here’s a condensed version of the tale – the person, on death’s door-stoop
(It was not sure that she was
well enough to withstand an operation –
AT THAT TIME)
, was at Wheeling Hospital.
I went to check her in.
As I was leaving the window the nurse asked what my name is.
I told her, took a couple of steps, turned and loudly added
“And Hershman isn’t Jewish!”
Immediately after that a visiting MD from Pittsburgh,
info he gave,
(With a name that MAY belong to a Jewish person),
came running-out of the ER to assure me that ‘He has never known of Wheeling Hospital turning down ANYONE that needed medical assistance’.
I was givin' him the ‘oh yeah, sure’ look all the time for this same person, I wasn’t there that time, went to WH’s ER about three months previously. She was given some pain pills and sent home where she continued to suffer, horribly so. A good deal earlier the young lady had been taken to OVMC where, after running
five separate pregnancy tests
(one test to tell the, non-existent, fetus’ age
and They ran that test TWICE)
[OVMC is heavily into the 3Bs -
Baby Bartering Business
nudge nudge wink wink to WH]
where she received a prescription for acid-reflux medicine...and sent home...
TO SUFFER HORRIBLY
FOR MONTHS AND MONTHS
in lieu of a most commonly preformed surgery.

Oh, she got the operation (PGTPM time) and is now as fine as frogs' hair.

Well, ain’t this the longest and most detailed of moi’s blog postings?
RheTORical question

BTW: If anyone thinks getting’
Special Treatment
is new to old Tor, THINK AGAIN!
One of the most blatant examples was during moi’s junior year at
Mapletown Jr. Sr. High School where moi had NOT a 3.25 GPA.
Move the decimal one space to the left would be about right.
Gad!
I despised, that, school.
Anywho, I decided to do the thoroughly unexpected, I made-up me noggin to have
perfect attendance for me junior year, which I did.
Then in the sping, on
Awards Day, I sat on the gym's bleachers with rest of the student body the
vice-principal entered, walked up on stage,
now this is the very first thing outta his yap,
looks (without searching) directly at moi and spakes thus
"We’ve decided not to give awards
for prefect attendance this year."
TA DA !
The award was a, not that rare back then, silver dollar.
That’s all.
Which proves the point, if’in THEY ain’t a-gonna allow you to have your justly earned compensation, for being proper when it's
ONLY A BUCK,
then THEY sure as farts are not going to GIVE YOU
[? ? ?]
YOUR 3.5 billion you’re owed.
Well owed,
@ ten cents on the $,
according to the last twelve words of the 5th Amendment
from the
Bill of Fictional Rights.

NOTE: Read on, former post, to find out how that SDI $3.5B is.

Well, I hope you enjoy this as much as moi dug keying it.

Stay on groovin’ safari,
Tor

P.S. Oh, someone once asked, after me massive heart attack and several operations, if I were on disability.
No, even though I DO KNOW OF several folk that suffered less coronary trauma and ARE on permanent disability.
Heck, I didn’t even get temporary disability;
I bet-cha after what I was going/went through moi would’ve even, or even oddly, received @ least
Temporary Disability in a
Stalin era gulag, but nay here.
And just think, the Ohio Valley is somewhat less horrible than the west coast dumps and malfeasance, misfeasance and nonfeasance run rampant
here, there and mostly everywhere the
DNA jungle grows.
There may be, maybe, exceptions...
somewhere...
but I doubt it.

P.S.S.
Here’s moi latest visual parody inspired by Ed Wood.

Oh, and for you youngins
(You know, the folks born a quarter of century after moi – the over 30s)
here's a groovin’ video of the original song.

I wonder if the "She" is really 'Life/Birth'?
It is a P. F. Sloan song.
Click here to be baptized into
The Chruch of ED WOOD
Here is an Ed Wood baptism
NOT
@
The Chruch of ED WOOD

Click here to visit
Landover Baptist Church
P.S.S.S.
And for mofos that try to take their minds off the inevitable by being creepolas,
HEEEEEEEEER’S JOHNNY


I could recount tales for hours & hours & hours &.....

OH YES!
For those of you who haven’t heard of
The Marcellus Shale find,
there has been discovered
ENOUGH
natural gas, just below Tor’s lil’ feet and few million other footies, to run every nuclear, coal, oil power plant, convert every car and truck to natural gas and run them all, nonstop, for the next hundred years.
Of course, this gives the
Masters a huge problem, which is
(as always)
how to make sure all the profits from
natural resources are kept outta the pockets of most of the
citizens.
Don’t worry though, they’ve been doin’ a jim-dandy job of that sooooooooooooooooo far.

Yikes!
There I go.....gettin' all uppity, again.