Sometimes irony kicks you in the ass. Other times you’re literally bathed in it.

I stood in the shower this morning, absentmindedly going through the get-clean routine and thinking about what I’d like to knock off of the honey-do list today:

Put a new sweep on the bottom of the front door? Yeah, winter’s on the way. Dump the grass collected when the kids mowed yesterday. Better get on that right away, before it starts to stink. Plug the hole where the cable comes out of the house outside the den. Mm-hmm. Go get groceries with my better half and throw something in the Crock Pot for supper….

Suddenly a light bulb went off over my head.


The bulb over the shower had blown, went kaput, illuminated its last idea session.

I dropped my head in the dark, took a deep breath, blew it out through the water running down my face and started over:

Replace the light bulb in the shower. Put a new sweep on the bottom of the front door. Dump the grass….

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Martin C. Fredricks IV

Martin C. “Red” Fredricks IV here. I’m husband to an amazing woman who is also my best friend, dad to three outstanding kids, Fargoan (North Dakota, that is), proud introvert, veteran messaging strategist/copywriter, blogger ( nonprofit founder ( and big-time reader. As they say, if you're gonna write good stuff, you have to read good stuff. A ginger, too - ergo the "Red" - although some of it's going white. Cinnamon-Sugar, I call it. Tattooed to boot; seven so far. At age 54, I'm stilling crankin' AC/DC & Metallica, but now and again I spin some Eric Church and Black Uhuru, too. I love hanging out with my (much) better half, spending time with our kids, writing, hiking, riding my mountain bike and reading.


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