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Mark O'Brien Writer, Blogger

I'm the founder and principal of O'Brien Communications Group (obriencg.com) and the co-founder and President of EinSource (einsource.com). I'm a lifelong writer. My wife, Anne, and I have two married sons and four grandchildren. I'm having the time of my life.

Books Authored By Mark O'Brien

By Mark Nelson O'Brien

Recent Content

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Celerywear

I don’t know why, but it seems as if many of the ads that show up in the games I play on my iPhone have to do with clothing made from bamboo. Underwear seems to be particularly popular for some reas…

I don’t know why, …

I don’t know why, but it seems as if many of the ads that show up in the games I play on my iPhone have to do with clothing made from bamboo. Underwear seems to be particularly popular for some reason — and sexy, if the ads are to be believed. I don’t know if I buy those ads. And I certainly don’t buy the underwear. But all of this got me thinking … and exploring. Bamboo, it turns out, is the largest member of the grass Family. I know they make skirts from grass in Hawaii for luaus and such. But I wondered how fabric could be made from bamboo for underwear and other garments. I disco…

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I’m Batman: Part Five &Raquo; Mrkbtmn
I’m Batman: Part Five

From early 2000 to early 2004, I worked for an advertising agency in Avon, Connecticut. As you may have surmised from some of my earlier writings, my office was full of all manner of Batman stuff, inc…

From early 2000 to e…

From early 2000 to early 2004, I worked for an advertising agency in Avon, Connecticut. As you may have surmised from some of my earlier writings, my office was full of all manner of Batman stuff, including a neon Batman clock on the wall. There was a young, brilliantly talented graphic designer on the Creative Department staff at the agency. Her name was Jennifer McKenzie. She was largely overlooked and woefully underappreciated. And she had at least one tattoo of which I was aware. It was on her right ankle. One evening as she was leaving, I asked her to come into my office. I gestured towar…

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Right On The Bismarck &Raquo; Mrk2 1
Right on the Bismarck

Here’s a highly unofficial and utterly arbitrary pop quiz: The photograph above is: A licensed furbearer trapper’s cabin in Bismarck, North Dakota? The home of our unlicensed neighbors across the…

Here’s a highly un…

Here’s a highly unofficial and utterly arbitrary pop quiz: The photograph above is: A licensed furbearer trapper’s cabin in Bismarck, North Dakota? The home of our unlicensed neighbors across the street in Middletown, Connecticut, after two feet of climate change fell? But before we get to the answer, a little history: Bismarck, North Dakota, was named after the German battleship, Bismarck, which was named after Otto von Bismarck, the former Chancellor of the German Empire. Thinking it was in Norway, Bismarck lived in Oslo, North Dakota, on the Red River of the North, before moving to Ge…

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A Love Letter

I’m not generally one to dispense advice, but I’m going to break character and offer four pieces here: If you’re taking your trash cans down a steep icy driveway, don’t let your feet fly out …

I’m not generally …

I’m not generally one to dispense advice, but I’m going to break character and offer four pieces here: If you’re taking your trash cans down a steep icy driveway, don’t let your feet fly out from underneath you, causing you to elevate horizontally and to whack the back of your noggin on the pavement when gravity takes over. If you fail to heed #1, experience dizziness the next day, attribute the dizziness to whacking your noggin on the pavement, and go to a local emergency room (ER) to get checked out, make sure you don’t have atrial fibrillation (AFib) before you go. If you fail to…

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Housework and Numerology

The other morning, I was at the kitchen sink making coffee when Anne came into the room, opened the cabinet underneath the sink, and pulled out a bottle of Formula 409. The first thing I wondered was …

The other morning, I…

The other morning, I was at the kitchen sink making coffee when Anne came into the room, opened the cabinet underneath the sink, and pulled out a bottle of Formula 409. The first thing I wondered was where the name came from. So, I looked it up. It’s an interesting story with which some liberties have been taken. Because I tend to favor even numbers over odd, I decided to look up the numerological significance of 409. That compelled me to look up the numerological significance of 408 and 410. While I’m happy to leave the details to you, dear reader, I’ll digest and paraphrase their respe…

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It’s Only Syllables

If you’re a language snob like me, you pay attention to things other people don’t notice — or disregard if they do notice. I’ll cite a couple instances in a moment. But first, a note on lingui…

If you’re a langua…

If you’re a language snob like me, you pay attention to things other people don’t notice — or disregard if they do notice. I’ll cite a couple instances in a moment. But first, a note on linguistic mechanics — more specifically, a mechanical abbreviation with the literal, functional purpose of condensing terminology: initialism (noun): a set of initials representing a name, organization, or the like, with each letter pronounced separately In an initialism, the initial letters are pronounced individually — FBI (Federal Bureau of Investigation), CEO (chief executive officer), HMO (H…

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Woody’s Wonderful World &Raquo; Img 2778
Woody’s Wonderful World

If you’ve never read anything I’ve written about my baby brother, Woody, here are a few things you should know: He loves animals. They Love him (like Eddie and Sammy). He loves music. He particul…

If you’ve never re…

If you’ve never read anything I’ve written about my baby brother, Woody, here are a few things you should know: He loves animals. They love him (like Eddie and Sammy). He loves music. He particularly loves Christmas music. He loves Elvis Presley. He loves to sing. One year at Christmastime, my sister, Lynn, and her daughter, Johanna, had flown up from Virginia to visit my parents in Old Lyme, Connecticut. Woody was also visiting my parents at the time. The five of them got in my parents’ car and drove up to where I lived in Glastonbury, Connecticut, to have yet another Christmas celebr…

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How the Nigerian Prince (Almost) Stole Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, The Nigerian Prince was as mum as a mouse. “They know me,” he thought, “as the Master of Sham. But they’ll still take the bait for…

‘Twas the night be…

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, The Nigerian Prince was as mum as a mouse. “They know me,” he thought, “as the Master of Sham. But they’ll still take the bait for my Christmas Eve scam.” “I’ll tell them that Santa Claus had his sleigh filched, And children all over the world will be zilched Unless they send ten million smackers to me, So I can make sure Santa’s sleigh is set free.” The Prince laughed a laugh that was haughty and smug, Quite sure that his plan had not one single bug. It seems he forgot or perhaps never guessed: The one who laughs …

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Happy New Year

As this year was coming to its inevitable close, I found myself feeling more contemplative. Because I wasn’t sure why, I posed a number of questions to myself, each of which I was able to answer wit…

As this year was com…

As this year was coming to its inevitable close, I found myself feeling more contemplative. Because I wasn’t sure why, I posed a number of questions to myself, each of which I was able to answer without taxing myself unduly. Here are some of them: Question: Do you think you’re becoming more reflective as you get older? Answer: That can’t be it because I’m getting younger. Question: Do you think it’s because you’re acquiring more Wisdom? Answer: You don’t know yourself very well, do you? Question: Do you think it’s because you’re anticipating more change? Answer: Now that the …

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A 360 Christmas

‘Twas four days after Christmas at BIZCATALYST. Most things still looked normal, but there was a twist: Santa had skipped over Dennis and Ali. They somehow got left off his Christmas gift tally. So,…

‘Twas four days af…

‘Twas four days after Christmas at BIZCATALYST. Most things still looked normal, but there was a twist: Santa had skipped over Dennis and Ali. They somehow got left off his Christmas gift tally. So, Santa sent word out to 360 Nation To ask for some help with his miscalculation. And what to his wondering eyes should appear But outpourings of goodwill from far and from near. Yes, all they’ve paid forward came happily back To make sure there’s no joy for which they might lack. The hearts that they’ve touched and the friends they have made Took care to make sure Santa’s fears were allaye…

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Cubism

An article popped into my feed from History the other day. The headline grabbed me immediately: “Why the Inventor of the Cubicle Came to Despise His Own Creation”. If you’ve ever worked in a cub…

An article popped in…

An article popped into my feed from History the other day. The headline grabbed me immediately: “Why the Inventor of the Cubicle Came to Despise His Own Creation”. If you’ve ever worked in a cubicle, as did I, that headline may have restored a little of your faith, as it did mine. My faith was bolstered still more when I read the first paragraph: How do you envision corporate hell? It probably involves fluorescent light, a micromanaging boss and a tiny, impersonal cubicle. But the office layout that’s come to represent the worst in work was actually designed to bring out the best in w…

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The Toughest Angel

My friend, Rick, and I had our families at roughly the same time. His daughters are about the same ages as my sons. When the kids were small, Rick called their efforts to test their boundaries running…

My friend, Rick, and…

My friend, Rick, and I had our families at roughly the same time. His daughters are about the same ages as my sons. When the kids were small, Rick called their efforts to test their boundaries running for daylight, an expression used to describe what running backs do in football. I never forgot his characterization. Fast forward to 2006. My younger son, Quinn, was 20 years old, a sophomore at Salve Regina University in Newport, Rhode Island, and living in an apartment off campus. One night he called me from there. “Dad,” he said in that kind of drawn-out way he and his brother had of prono…

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