My book

Imagine if a matchmaking service used the same procedures as an eye doctor.

Imagine if the career of the future turned out to be a moneymaking pursuit from the past.

Imagine if a severe weather warning appeared on your TV just as the Red Sea was being parted in the movie “The Ten Commandments.”

Bill Kempin has imagined all these things and more. He presents his humorous perspective on circumstances worldly and otherworldly in the book “The Great, Grand, Glorious Scheme of Things,” available at and the Kindle store.

Bill possesses an eye for detail connected to a sense of the absurd that finds something askew in almost every situation. His observations and deductions may not unlock all of life’s mysteries, but they might produce laughter as you realize that you’re not the only person who thinks napkins are running rampant throughout what remains of civilization.

By the way, did you ever wonder how far behind you a woman must be before it isn’t rude of you not to hold the door open for her?

That answer and more can be found in “The Great, Grand, Glorious Scheme of Things.”

About the author

Bill Kempin has been a broadcaster, a television writer, a TV director and an editor at a newspaper.

Now he edits life.

He appeared in the book “A Twitter Year: 365 Days in 140 Characters,” compiled by Kate Bussmann.

He assisted longtime friend Jenny McCarthy with her book “Bad Habits: Confessions of a Recovering Catholic.”

Speaking of Catholicism, his favorite saying from his days as an altar boy is “et cum spiritu tuo,” which means “and with your spirit,” “and also with you” or “same to you, buddy.”

His favorite Meryl Streep movie is “Defending Your Life.”

He is also fond of “The Court Jester” with Danny Kaye. And remember, the pellet with the poison’s in the vessel with the pestle; the chalice from the palace has the brew that is true. Unless of course you break the chalice from the palace. Then the pellet with the poison’s in the flagon with the dragon; the vessel with the pestle has the brew that is true.

Get it? Got it. Good.

His mood at the moment is subjunctive.

A sample chapter

Lots of people complain about going to the dentist, but it’s worse to visit the eye doctor.

When you see a dentist, your teeth get poked and scraped and drilled. But you can sit back and pretend you’re not there.

But at the eye doctor, you’re heavily involved. You constantly have to answer questions and make decisions. No pressure — the only thing at stake is your ability to see.

“Which looks better: 1 … or 2?”

“Uh … 2.”

“3 … or 4?”

“Could I see them again?”

“Certainly. There’s 3 … and there’s 4.”

“They’re so close. … If I have to choose, I’ll say 3.”

When you’re done answering all those questions, you take the prescription somewhere and get eyeglasses or contact lenses. And when you first wear them, you review the vision exam and think to yourself, “You dope, you should have said 4.”

Imagine what it would be like if a matchmaking service used the same procedure as an eye doctor:

“Which looks better: blonde … or brunette?”

“Uh … blonde.”

“Blonde … or redhead?”

“Could I see them again?”

“Certainly. There’s the blonde … and there’s the redhead.”

“It’s so hard to decide.”

“Blonde … or redhead?”

“If I have to choose, I’ll say … blonde.”

“All right. Tall … or short?”


“Tall … or statuesque?”


“Stacked … or proportional?”

“Could you please go through that again?”

“Here’s stacked …”

“Hold it there a second.”

“Snap judgments are usually best. Otherwise your lust will adjust.”

“I’ll go with stacked.”

“Real … or fake?”

“This is tough.”

“Just remember, if you choose fake and the relationship clicks, there will probably be more plastic surgery to come.”

“Real then. No, wait. I might regret this 10 years from now. Fake.”

“We’re almost done. Naughty … or nice?”

“Can’t I get both?”

“Sure. We can order you two: one for home and one for social gatherings.”

Click here to order “The Great, Grand, Glorious Scheme of Things.”