2author

Life in the Hinterlands OR

2012-02-10T11:11:00.000-08:00

How the rest of America and the well connected world doesn't understand the lack of "being on" the internet/cellphone life.

The past 3 months have been spent working and trying to make time to get to a high speed internet connection. It didn't happen and there's no excuse for it.

Too bad we can't spend a few billion dollars and hardwire this country for high speed internet access. Anyone who thinks that satellite is the answer has never had to put up with the lack of service the rest of us encounter when we need access the most, like in storms, etc.

Enough, I've got to get back to the farm.

Enjoy your day, I will!!!!!!!

Time to Launch the 'New' Video

2011-11-03T14:04:00.001-07:00

It's been fun, the past 6 weeks. The weather went from too hot to too cold and I've still got a Sable sitting in the barn, unpainted. To say that I've not had time to work on the blog would be an understatement.

Still working on my short story series, doing updates on "Going Dutch, Trials of a Wage Slave" and working on the video script for my public service announcement.

Watching the "Occupy Wall Street" movement has been fun. What took them so long to realize that we have all been getting ripped off for the past 40 years. I could go into the history of how our social structure has been tuned to benefit certain parties, but that's a subject for another time.

Will update the blog when the video is up on YouTube.

Sweltering at the Ranch Has Stopped

2011-09-08T11:16:00.001-07:00

Yeah, been a few months or more. This summer qualifies as 'Hell on Earth, the Un-Cool Version'. Don't know how it's been for you, but the weather has been nuts, either too hot, too much rain or wind or....

Too hot to paint, without a temperature and humidity-controlled paint booth. If the paint doesn't fog, the painter will drip sweat into it. So, it's a no-win situation, until the temp comes down to around 80F. Scuffed the Sable's rear quarter backing it into the barn, so just now getting around to fixing that mistake. Should be ready to paint next week, but I've sung that song before.

Farm work never stops. The baby bull, Rascal, is now almost as big as his momma and his cousin, Spunky, isn't far behind. It's funny how an 800 pound animal can act like a puppy, not realizing that he can bulldoze you like a blade of grass, if he gets upset.

Writing? I'm doing plenty of it. Got a couple of projects going, not including the new video work. Stay tuned.

Other than that, welcome to the wonderful fall weather, hurricanes included. Please keep all hands and feet inside the ark.

All the best,

Tom

Full Moon and Spring

2011-03-21T07:38:00.000-07:00

What a week.

Put paint on the Mercury Sable and did something I haven't done in years. Ran the paint till it dripped, like I'd never painted a car before in my life! Can't remember when this happened last but it made for lots more work. Spent yesterday sanding the drips down and will spend part of today sanding the rest of the car. It's like starting all over again.

The weekend was interesting, if not educational. Saturday I went to a class in "Lead Safety, Removal, Renovation and Painting". After the class, all I can say is, 'invest in plastics'. You'll need lots of plastic, as in tarps, gloves, etc. to comply with the federal regs on removing old paint in houses built before 1978. Or you could just bulldoze the place.

Got an email from an old high school buddy, hadn't heard from him in, well we won't go into ancient history, but it's been a long time. He's been doing stuff I wish I had pursued, but we can't do everything in this life, try as we may. I don't know if I can even mention what he's been doing, will have to wait and see what's allowed to be discussed. Yes, folks, that's the way the government works. You have no need to know.

The full 'super' moon was a sight to see this weekend. Took some photos and shot some video of it, for the record book. Will have to wait and see if we experience any earth shakes in the next few weeks. Doesn't look good for the short term.

Other than that, enjoy this new start to the year. It's been great here, 80 degree weather, the pear tree is in full bloom (very early) and I'm looking to get the rototiller out and churn up the garden plot.

Now all I have to do is watch out for the snakes.

Into the Spring

2011-03-11T07:25:00.000-08:00

Busy, too swamped with work and literally flooded in the lowlands around here to have time to post on the old blog.

Will increase the blog posts, starting with coverage of the books that I've read over the past few months.

That will have to wait until I get this weekend out of the way. Going to get the Mercury Sable finished off, primer it and look to paint it next week, when the weather finally breaks into the 70's.

As for the folks out there who are dealing with the employee/employer issues and worker rights, I'll be putting up some comments on my 01Wage Slave blog.

It's going to be an interesting year!

Would Chuck Wood for Work

2011-02-17T08:19:00.000-08:00

Otherwise, I can't wait to chuck winter for spring.

You been having a nice, mild winter? Not here. I've been playing lumberjack most of this winter, in conditions that are common up North, but downright aggravating here. I've cut and split enough wood for three 'regular' winters and it's not over yet.

I expect 50 degree weather this time of year, not highs of around 30. Which is the normal low temp overnight.

So, this past week, we went from highs in the upper 20's to temps now in the lower 70's! Great weather to catch the flu.

Posting here has been spotty, at best.

It's a good thing that I don't have access to the internet on a full time basis or I'd get nothing done on my writing or around the farm.

Love the internet, great source of info, etc., but it makes me want to comment on things that I should leave alone.

So, it's back to the shop, where a Sable awaits me. Time to put paint on it and ship it down the road. Then it will be tractor maintenance time.

Believe me, I look forward to a nice, relaxing hour or two in front of my computer, working on my writing. Some people think it's a grind, but they should try manual labor for a while.

Then they would appreciate how easy it is to give your opinion on things you aren't going to change without making a real, physical effort.

Back to work, wage slaves.

Ending the Year with a Calf

2010-12-29T14:29:00.000-08:00

So, don't have a cow, man.

Been busy, so busy that there's been very little time to work on the blog. Cutting, splitting firewood, burned more so far this year than all of last year. Winter weather during the fall season, broke some records, a reverse of this summer. I'm sure you're enjoying the weather where you are.

The 'herd' has been self-thinning. Curlie (Curly?) jumped the fence for the last time about three weeks ago. The Boss and our neighbor decided to reach an agreement on the situation, so she was sold to the neighbor. Now, she stands at HIS fence and bellows, while looking over at our pasture. She's a cow, so go figure.

LuLu (again, I didn't name these heifers), decided that enough was enough and delivered her calf on Christmas Eve day. I was cutting some standing deadwood down by the creek when MoMo bellowed at me from the hillside. I could see LuLu was down, but didn't think much of it. Went to check on her about an hour later. She had the new boy with her. He's a healthy little dude, about 60-70 pounds and bigger than my German Shepherd.

So, a Christmas calf and a baby bull at that!

Now, if I can get some bull market activity on my writing, then it'll be a GREAT 2011.

Have a healthy and prosperous New Year!

Bovine Social Club

2010-11-29T15:07:00.000-08:00

You have lazy Sunday afternoons, where you lie around, perusing what to do, if you don‘t take a nice, quiet nap. I know that I’ve had a few, but lately, most of them have been taken up with catching cows. This is not to be confused with Mad Cow disease, although you might make a cow mad while attempting to herd it home.

If you are wont to enjoy the company of your neighbors in a natural, rural setting, there is nothing like trying to get a lovelorn heifer back to the home pasture. Especially if she’s mixed in with about thirty other head of cattle, a half-dozen horses and a mule. Let me not neglect the Bull of the herd and it’s young son, Bull, jr.

This stray heifer, not exactly light of hoof at about 800 pounds, has been the cow errant of the farm. She likes to jump fences, even if said fence is of barbed wire construction and about three feet tall. Which is not the usual height of a good farm fence. It’s the height of some of the fence here due to lack of maintenance. Fence gets taken down by trees, animals, broken posts, etc. There’s always something to mend on a farm.

My neighbor Carol, having encouraged my father into getting this ‘herd’, is a willing participant in the care and feeding of said animals. I was against it from the start, as I knew who would get roped in, so to speak, when it came to dealing with the overall care of the ‘herd’. My previous experiences having been with a herd of about 25 cattle last year that a former girlfriend happened to have on her property. They spent more of their time over the fence, in the road or wandering in the woods then they did in the fields. Since both the cattle and my ex-girlfriend were spending more time wandering than staying home, it was best that we split. So, I really didn’t want to have to deal with more of the same, with less help, this year. At least I knew which watering hole the cows were drinking at.

When I showed up at my neighbor Carol’s door, she was in the middle of cooking beans and watching “Of Mice and Men”, which could be the story of living in my old farmhouse, but the mice have taken to committing suicide by water bucket lately, a topic which I may dwell on in a later blog.

It would be about an hour before the beans and the movie would be over, so I went out to the shop and worked on various projects. I put a couple of coats of paint on the now welded up ATV gas tank, then started taking apart the wood burning fireplace insert. Haven’t been able to sell it, so I’m going to cut it down to fit my small fireplace. It’s more than twice as big as the wood burner I’m using now.

Carol came out to get me when she was ready to go. I got some rope, a big plastic coffee can of sweet feed and found a wooden stick, about 1 ½ X 2 inches and 4 feet long. Didn’t think to bring a ball bat. Carol had her cane that she used when they operated on her knee. It helps to have a nice stick when you’re dealing with a herd or even a single animal. As Carol found out earlier in the week, when a very preggers LuLu all 1,000+ pounds of her, cornered Carol and tried to butt her, wanting to get to that can of sweet feed. Which is a real treat for cattle and horses, kind of like chocolate for kids with hooves. Three basic rules of dealing with cattle: Don’t get in with them while feeding them, don’t get between a heifer and her calf and NEVER fuck with the bull. You will get the horn, if not run over.

We piled into her van, since the farm truck was hooked to a trailer and went up the road to the neighbor’s pasture. At the field, we walked about a ¼ mile, looking through the scattered herd for “Curly”. Don’t give me any grief about these names, I didn’t name the cows, Carol did. We spot Curly on the far side of the pond. I notice a very anxious black cow, which I mistake for a bull. She’s dancing around, running back and forth. That’s when I ask Carol, “Does JW have any bulls out here?”
“Yep, why?”
“I think I see one.”
That’s when I realize that Carol, festive person that she is, is wearing a bright red Christmas sweatshirt under her bright orange University of Tennessee windbreaker, with athletic shoes. We’re being subtle here, right? I’m dressed in standard farm regalia, bib overalls, heavy boots and a black and white checked hoodie, dark blue ball cap. Just like you see down at the local feed store, rapping to the oldies.

“Uh, Carol, you might want to zip up your jacket, since that bull might not like your red sweatshirt.”

I won’t repeat her reply, lets just say that she zipped up her windbreaker while dodging ankle deep cow pies.

Turning back to the cow in question. Curly was regarding us with a wary look. She’d seen people coming for her before and it usually wasn’t a good sign. I tried to ‘make friends’ with her by using the old, native ritual of shaking the gourd, in this case, rattling a plastic coffee can of sweet feed, while calling “Here babe, come on, here babe.” Hey, it works for witch doctors, right?

She looked at me like I was some thick-glasses wearing geek in a hillbilly costume. I kept up the chant. The dancing cow gets closer and I realize that she’s a young heifer, couldn’t see her udder, since she isn’t mature. Curly comes on and gets about four feet from me, the smell of sweet feed drawing her and twenty other cows. I throw some out on the ground and she bows her head to munch it. As soon as I pull the rope out of my pocket she moves off. We proceed to play ‘chase the cow’ for the next half hour.

During this time, we realize that there is a bull in this pasture, actually there‘s two of them. Big Bull’s watching with more than a little interest, kind of like a pimp watching over his ladies. His son, Bull, jr. is prancing around, playing with his mom. Which is hard to imagine, 500 pounds of dancing beef. Big Bull, he’s cool, you would be too, if you weighed in around 1800 pounds. He looks like a four-legged locomotive with a head about two feet wide. All I can think is that I’m glad that he’s not a big one. I had one about 2300 pounds come at me last year when the herd stampeded due to 4th of July fireworks going off. The only thing that kept me from getting run over was the fact that I was next to a forest and got in behind a tree. The herd went through the forest, then they slowed down. They sauntered into the next field like nothing happened. Which made me happy, since that’s where I was trying to herd them to begin with.

We now have Big Bull decide that we’re messing with his heifer. Not only is he standing shoulder to shoulder with Curly, he’s got the rest of the bovine posse lined up with him. I faced some big offensive lines playing high school football. Which wasn’t hard, since I was the one of the smallest, lightest guys on the team and the only one that wore glasses in the whole league, while playing middle linebacker. Some of the guards and centers would laugh, until we made contact. Everything I did was within the rules. The problem is there’s no referees on this field and these animals have their own rules. You might outrun a bull for a hundred yards, if you’re a world-class sprinter. I guarantee that he’ll catch you in the second hundred.

Discretion being the better part of valor, I turned around and walked off, heading for the gate. Carol decided that would be a good idea also. I think she was growing tired of dodging cow pies and pushing horses away from her. They love sweet feed and aren’t shy about it. We had gone about a hundred feet when Carol said, “They’re following us.”

She was about twenty feet off to my left, I pivoted, looked over my shoulder. Sure enough, the bovine posse was duly following us towards the gate. We’re all out for a nice, Sunday afternoon stroll in the fields. As we get near the gate, the owner and his wife pull up. JW and Theresa park in the road and get out to help. JW shunts the horses off into a field next to the one Curly is in and closes the gate on them.

The bovine posse now has us cornered by the gate. 25,000 pounds of beef on the hoof versus three puny humans, who wouldn’t top 400 pounds altogether. The bovine posse craps more than we weigh in a day. We hold them at bay since we have the key ingredient, sweet feed. We rattle the cans, enticing them, warding off the animal spirits. Curly knows it’s ordained and shuffles forward, the rest of the herd holds back. They turn and move away, like they know we can’t be stopped and she’s been chosen to leave with us.

I get around behind her, moving slowly, urging her forward. JW keeps her from going down the right fence line and back out into the field. Carol opened the gate, wide enough to drive a truck through, shaking her can of sweet feed. Curly edges forward, then moves to up the fence line to my left. I dodge left and get her headed back towards the open gate. Curly gets within ten feet of it, then bolts left and turns on the speed like a halfback heading for the goal line. She’s gone, back into the middle of the field, in nothing flat.

A big roan mare decides that she’s seen enough and pushes the gate open, reaches over and rips the lid off of Carol’s coffee can. She wants that sweet feed! Carol bops her on the nose, while JW waves her back behind the gate into the small field.

We humans regroup, deciding that parking the maroon van and the big Chevy diesel dually at the gate might have kept Curly from coming out. The vehicles are moved, while I walk out into the field, trying to catch up with Curly. This is why you need either a good horse or a four-wheeler. A moto-cross bike would work, but I think that after hitting a few cow pies, you might have to be hosed off and fumigated before they let you in the house. Trying to walk/run after cattle will only wear you out.

After about another twenty minutes of chasing Curly, I’ve had it. I’m ready to go back to the shop, where the only cowhide is in gloves or seat covers. The Big Bull has ambled towards the lower pasture. He’s getting bored. Curly comes up along side him, going the other direction and gives him a ‘come-on’ rub with her butt. I’m watching this and decide that I better hang back, in case this is Sunday afternoon bovine lust. He ignores her and keeps heading towards the lower pasture. Miffed, she trots off across the big pasture and I start to follow her. JW yells at me, “Hey, forget it. We’ll get her tomorrow.”

I can only nod agreement and we trudge back across the pasture to the gate. He tells me about how he used to have two bulls, but last year one of them disappeared. He thinks it might have been stolen. I’m surprised. “How the hell could someone steal a bull? We can’t even get a heifer to follow us!”
He explains that they have a gun, shoots a dart with something in it that slows the bull down.

Whoa! I’m thinking, that’s it! Cows on ‘ludes! Where the hell are Quaaludes when you need them! No, wait, that would just make her really horny. That’s enough of a problem.

Wonder how many Valiums it would take?

Maybe we should just take her a bucketful of beer and let the drunk heifer stumble home behind us?

Sounds like an excuse for a kegger to me.

Yippie Ki Yaa

2010-11-08T08:25:00.000-08:00

Or however that old cowboy saying goes...Guess I need to ask Bruce Willis, cowboy that he ain't.

No posts for the past few weeks, busy with the new 'herd'.

Let's just keep this brief and say it's been late nights, stuck trucks, tractor maintenance, heifers on the run and mending fences. Be glad that it's me and not you.

More work to be done this week and I need to be out of here. The weather's great and it's too nice to be inside. The internet is a great place to visit but I don't get my work done when I'm surfing it.

Beautiful weather and I need to get to the barn.

If it rains, more later this week.

Cows and Bushhogs

2010-10-25T10:23:00.000-07:00

You know how you plan your week. Maybe you think about it over the weekend, set goals, promise yourself that you'll have this or that done FOR SURE, come Friday.

Last Monday started off great. Did some work on the new short story series, was closing the file when I heard a truck in the driveway.

My father, 78 years young, was outside, leaning on the horn. He had some plans for getting the main pasture ready for some cows. What cows? The cows he was going to buy that afternoon.

Which meant he wanted to bushhog the pasture. He got his favorite tractor out and I did an oil change and basic maintenance while he went to the livestock auction and bought some cattle.

When he came back he started making the rounds. After I did a few things, I caught up with him to find him driving around the pasture, knocking the overgrown field down, but not cutting anything. He had burnt the clutch out of the bushhog.

About this time, the cattleman showed up and delivered the cows. They disappeared into the field and I went back to the shop.

We put the bushhog in the shop, it turned out that it was in serious shape. My father tends to drive like he's racing at Le Mans, so I was looking at a fried bearing and a nice, deeply blue driveshaft. Overheating them will do that, if they don't seize up and shred something.

The rest of the week was spent chasing parts and cows. I got to work on a couple of my projects, but it meant for some long hours. Maybe I'll get to finish welding up those tool boxes this week.

At this time, we're waiting for bushhog parts and two of the cows are staying with the neighbor's herd. I guess they got lonely and left.

You got to love farm life. It's never what you expect.

One Bite at a Time

2010-10-07T09:14:00.000-07:00

I'm trying to get some projects done before winter. This keeps me from doing as much writing as I would like but I usually get in an hour per day on my stories . The spider bite didn't do too much damage to my leg. It just takes time out of the day to treat it. Healing nicely, thank you.

Took on a project this week that I've been putting off all summer. Promised my neighbor that I'd weld up her 25 year old ATV's gas tank. Rust over the years has ate away at the gas tank.It had some small pinholes, but they can empty a tank overnight and you don't want gasoline all over your garage floor. It's a bit of a health and safety situation.

Oxygen-acetylene welding, for those of you who have never stuck an 1700 degree welding torch into a metal tank previously full of a highly flammable liquid, can be slightly nerve wracking. I took the proper steps, emptied the gas tank, filled it full of water, then went one step further, I put it in a cut-off 55 gallon drum full of water. Figured if it exploded it would contain the shrapnel. Don't want to mess up the shop with shredded Tom parts.

The small pinholes turned out to be major potholes. The more I welded it the worse it got. Now the tank has a huge brazed patch on the side, all in an attempt to control the splitting and cracking of the ATV tank. Old, rusty car parts will do this, gas tanks are the worst. You can get away with some pinholes in a weld on a fender, not on a gas tank.

I'm considering cutting the side out of the tank and making a new piece to repair it. What should have been a two hour job has turned into a nightmare. Which is a real bite out of my work week.

At least it hasn't blown up in my face.

NOTE: THE INFORMATION ABOVE IS NOT TO BE CONSIDERED AS A PROCEDURE, RECOMMENDATION OR INSTRUCTION FOR DOING ANY WELDING OR REPAIR WORK. WELD AT YOUR OWN RISK.

The Bite

2010-09-29T08:28:00.000-07:00

Everyone loves the idea of living in an old farmhouse. OK, maybe not everyone. It's a romantic ideal for some people. All the old wood, high ceilings, beautiful views of fields and forests.

Then there's the reality. I've had wasps in the house, snakes stuck to the wall by the back door (a real eye opener when you reach for the door knob!) and the various creepy crawlies.

This past weekend I was snoozing in the sack when I felt a bite on my leg. Thought it was a mosquito that had somehow found me. Went back to sleep.

When I got up a couple of hours later, it was obvious that I was wrong.

A brown recluse spider bite is something you can't ignore.

I've been treating it now for the past 5 days and it's getting pretty ugly.

My neighbor has been bitten twice by a brown recluse. The first time she spent three days in the hospital and they cut out an infected mass bigger than a golf ball. She got bit again last year, treated it herself and it still took 6 weeks to heal.

She told me what to do and I'm taking care of it.

You got to love living in the country, but sometimes it puts the bite on you!

New Day, New Blog

2010-09-24T08:54:00.001-07:00

I've started another blog. This one will cover, "Glitch", the novel that I've written and am now reworking into a screenplay.

www.2glitch.blogspot.com

Cyberwar is beginning to get coverage in the mainstream media, but most people are either ignoring it or don't seem to care. Yeah, it's tough with all the unemployment, bad economy, etc.

A cyberwar would make our current situation look like a nice place to live.

Consider how your life would change without running water, electricity and transportation. That's just the necessities. Many of you consider the internet, your cellphones and other media-devices to be something you 'couldn't live without'.

Believe me, you can do without them. I have and it hasn't destroyed my life.

In fact, I probably live a less stressful, more enjoyable life than you can imagine.

Enjoy your toys while you can.

Before someone turns out the lights.

Trials and Errors of a Video Pitch

2010-09-15T11:30:00.001-07:00

I've been sending out a video query to agents in New York, friends in Hollywood and overseas. The response has been interesting, to say the least.

Some liked it, some didn't. The main thing is feedback.

Now I know what it needs and will go to work on revising it.

A video takes longer to create than an email or letter, but I feel it has more impact.

What I like is that they give the agent/producer/publisher, etc. a chance to see and hear about my work.

The scary part is that they have to look at me.

Maybe I'll just do audio queries instead.

Agents, continued

2010-09-10T13:16:00.000-07:00

I might have sounded a bit gruff, rough or been tough on agents in my last post.

Didn't mean to upset anyone. Just want some answers to the simple question of using videos as a method to query agents, publishers and for those of us who write screenplays, production companies.

Doing a video isn't easy. Most people have a hard enough time writing a query letter or a pitch for their work. I've been shooting film or video for decades, so it's a something I'm used to.

It's the video age. Everyone was raised on TV. OK, I've got a few gaps there, where I've gone for years at a time without owning one and didn't watch too many hours of programming. That can be explained and no, I wasn't in jail.

Gives me more time to write and shoot photos.

Are Agents REALLY Needed Now?

2010-09-07T14:10:00.000-07:00

I'm not going to make any friends with this, but the question must be asked. After all, I've seen how the internet has changed the music business. Why should the publishing biz be immune?

Now that all of us can communicate one on one, who needs a salesperson to tout your wares?

Sure, the agent is 'in place', whether that be NY, LA, London, etc. depending on whether you're selling a screenplay or novel. Yes, they have the contacts which you haven't developed, but did they grow up with these people or just hang out in the right colleges and bars?

Are the proper places to 'hang out' now Facebook, Twitter, or? I ask this, since the internet landscape changes quickly. Does anyone remember Myspace?

Does all the tweeting, blogging, etc. really get you published? Or is it who you know?

My personal experience with agents hasn't been good. I've driven across country to LA to hear a sales pitch about how my screenplay would be promoted to producers and directors. All I needed to do was come up with $2500. This was in 1992, so things have changed since then. Yet, isn't an agent really just another salesperson?

Now, you have to jump through hoops, apply all your skills to being a good pitch/query writer and hope that they like your blog. Sorry, I'm not here to spend half my time being a lap dog. If you don't like me or my work, OK. Get in line, there' s a long one. There are people who don't like Shakespeare either.

Yes, I know a good agent can help develop your work. They can find you a good editor or the people with special skills to help you.

A relevant story, short and pointed. I moved to Europe ten years ago, was told by a real estate agent that I couldn't buy a house until I rented an apartment for a year. This sounded like they wanted to control the situation and get a year's rent from me.

I hopped in the rental car, drove around town, found houses for sale. Called the listing agent, even though I didn't speak Dutch (still don't). They showed me their houses. I found one I liked and contacted a real estate lawyer. Got the contract written up, reviewed it, signed it and moved into the house.

So, no offense to the agents out there. I would LOVE to give you my business. My catalog of work grows each day. I write, but I don't spend hours on the internet, blogging, tweeting and generally getting nothing done. I leave that to those thrive on it.

Myself? I'm going to videos.

After all, if you get to be a published author, you have to make those personal appearances.

Just as long as they photograph me from my good side.

Communications, interrupted

2010-08-17T11:10:00.000-07:00

I've been working, on the farm and writing projects. The "farm" includes car/equipment work, not to mention the typical farm activities.

Don't know if it's been the heat causing stress on the fruit and nut trees, but I've been having limbs break and even had our largest pecan tree split down one side, about one third of it cracked off and fell into the garden. Lots of firewood, but I hated to see the tree break apart like that.

As for the Great Agent Search. Just received an email from a friend in Australia. She complained of sending me emails for the past couple of weeks...and they were 'bounced' back to her.

If you're an agent and have had this happen, please resend. I really hate to send email after email to a person, in the hopes that the ISP or whatever is causing the problem gets their act together.

Otherwise, I'm gearing up for fun.

It's going to be a great Fall season!

Videos and the lack thereof

2010-08-12T10:45:00.000-07:00

August? Who let this happen? I thought I would have about a dozen videos done and posted by now, but a variety of factors have slowed me and the process down this summer.

The heat we've had for the past three months hasn't helped much. It's either been scorching or raining. Getting hit with a major case of heat exhaustion didn't help either.

About the videos. The Baja Bug has been pushed back. I am going to clean up the 1935 BMW cabriolet and do a video on how it was abused by so-called 'car restoration' people. I have a 26 part TV series outlined for it. Anyone interested?

Video queries for my novel are going out to agents and publishers. It may not be the accepted thing to do, according to the rules driven agent application process, but the pace at which I receive or don't receive replies is glacial.

When I was in management, you answered an email that day, unless you had to provide info that required research, then it was usually within 48 hours. Waiting two months for an agent to tell me, "Sorry, not interested", if they answer at all, is an odd way to do business.

I have a feeling that the publishing business is about to go the way of the music business and many agents/managers/publishers will have to revamp their methods, as authors will turn to self-promotion to get their work before the public. The internet has turned the business model of more than one sector of the economy on it's head.

That said, I've taken a different stance as to my public persona. Too many people may have the wrong impression about me living out here in the hills of Tennessee. I'm not a complete hillbilly, more like a redneck peasant. Love living out here, away from all the traffic, noise, congestion, etc. of the big city.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy being in NYC, LA, London, Paris, Brussels, Prague. I could go on with a long list of cities I either lived in or visited and their attractions. It's just that I get more work done in the solitude of the farm. There's a pile of work that I've done over the past 10 years that now needs to get out to the rest of the world.

Like I tell people brave enough to ride with me.

"Sit down, buckle up and please scream quietly...I don't like being distracted when I drive."

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

2010-07-29T13:47:00.001-07:00

It's been some time since I've posted here. Busy has been the word.

The heat has slowed down work around the farm. If it's not done by about noon, forget it, you'll spend the afternoon frying in the sun. If you can stand to work in it!

The shop has been running around 100F+ for the past two months. No air-conditioning, except for a couple of small fans. If you aren't within 5 feet of them, forget it. Saw 112 degrees in there this past Sunday afternoon. I needed to get something, opened the door, ran in, grabbed what I needed (sunglasses I'd left in the car!), looked at the thermometer and headed out the door.

More fun later, getting some videos finished up, now that I've reworked the computer.

I just love all this high-tech stuff!

When it works.

Film, Video-tape and No Lie Hi-Def

2010-06-11T08:41:00.000-07:00

I've shot film, then video tape, now digital, down through my sordid life. Film was a commitment, you shot it, then either developed it or sent it out to a lab and prayed they didn't fry, over-develop or horrors, lose your negatives.

Then video tape came along, nice package, loss of picture quality, but most of us would accept the quick and easy use of it in exchange for waiting for the film to come back from the lab.

Now the wonders of digital. Hi-def allows us to look at the real, un-retouched subject.

Which is scary as hell for people in the movie biz who got by on soft focus lens all these years.

Now, everyone can be Fellini.

Just bring the talent.

Don't worry, there won't be any hi-def video here.

I'm still using video-tape..........for the time being.

YOU WANNA BE IN MOVIES, PART NINE

2010-06-11T08:26:00.000-07:00

Everything was set, actors were in their places. The train moved a few minutes later, went down the tracks and stopped. We sat there, then went forward again. Stopped. We backed up to the station, went forward again, stopped.

During this time, I'm watching the camera crews outside, setting up cameras, moving them around, adjusting for angles. Virginia asking me questions the whole time. I explain to her that you can set up, think that it'll be a good angle, then find out that something affects the shot. So, you move the camera, get set up and try again. This was interesting, for about the first three times. After we had been up and down the same stretch of railroad tracks about a dozen times, she was getting bored with it all.

We took to looking for unusual landmarks, strange scenery, you know, stuff that's never going to be seen if you only go past it one time. Crew pissing against trees in the woods, stuff like that. It was very convenient, they fed us, put us on this train, then we find out that the toilets don't work. OK, it wasn't that they didn't work. They had been removed. Which tends to keep people from using them. As you might guess, this upset the ladies more than the gents. We just took to the woods. Still have to be careful, the city boys didn't know about the funny leaves. Which can give you a nice rash in a tender area. You have to be careful when going splishy-splashy on the side of that tree. It might get its revenge in a couple of days. Poison oak and poison ivy love to break out all over. Don't itch that rash, use a scrub brush on it! Hey, you didn’t really wipe with that leaf, did you? Your girlfriend is going to hate you.

After they had shot some exteriors, we were allowed to take a break and gnaw on some snacks. Which was nice of them, since it was only about 1PM. Yes, I know that it would only be 10AM in Hollywood, but lunchtime is lunchtime. Here, we call it ’dinner’ and some people eat at 11 AM. Which is normal if you work ’farm hours’. Try arguing with your stomach, it always wins. We did another three hours worth of 'work' before taking our lunch break, at 4 PM! You know that you're working for Yankees, most Southerners eat supper around 5.

They took the train back to the station and let us out. The lines at the porta-potties weren't long, but the expressions of relief were priceless. We all chowed down, wondering what was next, since we were only four hours late, according to the shooting schedule. Which as shooting schedules go, really isn’t too bad.

Before we headed in for lunch, a near fatal mishap occurred. The Star and some of the crew were engaged in what could only be termed as 'screwing around'. Someone had decided that they should throw rocks at a telephone pole, while waiting for the next camera set-up. Virginia and I sat in the train and watched this event.

The train was stopped near a trestle over a road, which was about 40 feet below us. The telephone pole was on the other side of the road, probably a good two hundred feet away.

Now, I don't care who you are, even with a rocket arm and throwing a perfectly round stone, you're going to have a hard time making the distance, much less hitting the telephone pole. It was like watching schoolboys, egging each other on. Virginia shook her head in amazement. The schoolteacher in her was probably screaming to discipline them. I watched for a while, head turned to look out the window behind me. It didn't take too long to get bored with the whole thing. So, I missed the most exciting event of the day.

One of the couples, who were truly a couple, some young married kids who both got hired to be on the film, were sitting across the aisle from Virginia and I. They had wandered outside, then came back in. She had gone forward to the platform between the cars and was watching George Clooney as he threw rocks at the telephone pole. She came rushing back to where we sat.

"He just fell down! He nearly slid down the embankment!" she exclaimed as she hurried towards us and her husband.

I looked over at Virginia and then back to the newlywed. "Who fell down?"

"George Clooney! I can't believe I saw it! He climbed back up, stood up and pulled his pants down. He's wearing blue underwear!"

I gave Virginia a surprised look, when the newlywed exclaimed, "Look, you can see where he tore his pants."

She was pointing out the window behind me. I swiveled around to see George Clooney standing there, explaining to the producer what had happened. His pants were soiled and torn at the right thigh. I looked back at the newlywed.

"Did you get a photo of it?"

"What?"

"Did you get a picture! Do you know what a tabloid would pay for a photo of George Clooney dropping his pants on a movie set!"

She shook her head. She didn't have her cellphone out when it happened.

I dropped my head, shook it, then looked over at Virginia. "Another million dollar opportunity and me without a camera!" I could see the headlines in my head, ‘Clooney Moons Cast‘, ‘Clooney’s Undie Tips; On Monday, It‘s Blue Boxers‘, Clooney shows Choo-Choo Town His Good Side’, ‘Hey Baby, Have You Seen My Scar?’.

You don’t get chances like this everyday, more like once in a lifetime.

And me, without a camera!

YOU WANNA BE IN MOVIES, PART 8

2010-06-07T14:33:00.000-07:00

To follow is a blog post written a couple of years ago. I’m posting it now to complete this series of posts. At the time, I didn’t know if the movie was going to be a hit or not. Like the vast majority, it wasn’t and posting about it faded as an interest for me.

When I left for Chattanooga to do the movie, I told people that I was going to a ‘job interview’, most people around here still don’t know that I worked as a ‘background extra’ on a feature film. It wasn’t the first time I had been in or worked on a film, since I used to be the Film Commissioner in Dayton, Ohio.

The experience was important, since it gave me insight on how the common man and woman reacts to being in or around ‘stars’ or people perceived to be of social importance or status. It’s fascinating to watch people modify their behavior, adapting to the circumstances of the moment. The star can act pretty funny, too.

On location in Chattanooga.

From breakfast, I went over to the wardrobe people. The men had been told to wear 'plain white dress shirt, dark dress pants, black or dark blue tie and lace up shoes'. They also wanted us to bring overcoats. This led to a quandary for me. In the past few decades, I've usually worn leather biker jackets, since that's the preferred gear when riding a motorcycle. When it came to business, I've got an almost antique trench coat to go over my business suit. Buried deep in the closet was something from out of the past, a cashmere overcoat. Hadn't worn it in years, but women love it.. .it's dark blue, didn't look or smell like it had died, so I took it with me. The only things I forgot was a scarf and gloves. No hat either, but they would fix me up in wardrobe. Like I would have a Fedora lying around the house. Cowboy hats, ball caps, watch caps, motorcycle helmets, an old ‘Civil Defense’ helmet, but no Fedora. I am so unstylish.

First thing the wardrobe folks did was take one look at the cashmere coat and pitch it. I was given some checked, beige-green wool thing, scarf, gloves and a hat. The gloves were a bit tight, as in too small. Not like I would need them, it was about 65 degrees on the set! It was going to be interesting, shooting a winter scene on an unusually warm spring day. It's the movies, they can fake the cold, right?

The tempo started to pick up around the set. Men were sent to their dressing room, which was a tent, as were the ladies. People were told to dispose of their cellphones, briefcases, unnecessary coats, etc. get ready to get on the train. It was already pushing towards 10 AM and we were about to lose our first background extra. One of the local wheeler-dealers was having a hard time getting separated from his cellphone. He was micro-managing his office from the set, got flustered, decided that they weren't going to shoot the movie on his timetable. So, he walked. Took his paperwork out of his briefcase, handed it to the casting agent, gave wardrobe back their clothes and headed for the office. Only thing he kept was his haircut. Now, he'll never be able to brag about being in a feature film. I'm sure his office workers are disappointed too. They probably would have enjoyed a day without his forced march attitude.

We all trooped out into the sunshine. Ladies transformed into wives, flappers and gun molls of the twenties, men looking like dissipated business men or flat-cap wearing college boys. We clustered around the tents, mugging and doing bad gangster imitations. Which may have led to the second loss from our ranks. One of the young ladies, flapper-type, evidently did a near swan-dive. Maybe she got too close to the Star as he moved through the area? It was a matter of conjecture for the rest of the day. She was immediately cared for by the medical crew, who insisted on hauling her to the hospital. You are not allowed to either faint or die on the set! Another poor soul with fame snatched from her grasp. The inhumanity of it all!

A production assistant came around and started the herding process, driving us like so many sheep, cattle, chattel? towards the train cars. We were picked over, sorted, graded and sent to our doom. Directed towards seats, shuffled, then moved again. I was pointed to a seat next to a window, a large 'X' on it. The train’s wooden benches faced each other. There were three other men sitting on the benches, we barely had time to introduce ourselves. Another PA came by and told us that the Star would come down the aisle, lean over and look out the window.

Since I was sitting next to the window, I nearly fell out of my seat. This meant that there was about a 50/50 chance that I would be in the shot with him!.

That's when another PA came by, told me to get up and move, I had the wrong type of hat, they wanted 'flat caps' in the seats. I was directed to another car. Here, they paired me with a lovely woman.

I was now ‘playing the part’ of a couple. Virginia didn't seem to mind that she had been stuck with me. We were placed in the center section of the train car, facing each other, both of us sitting next to the windows. The PA told us to fake conversation, lean towards each other, make hand gestures. The typical, "I'm interested in what you have to say" kind of stuff.

We did the, 'where you from, how did you get here' thing. After all, we were going to be on this train together for a few hours, might as well make it bearable. It went beyond that, it was great. Virginia loves motorcycles, traveling and movies. We talked about everything.

One of the PA's told us to be quiet and nodded towards the front of the train.
Suddenly, everyone in the train car got quiet. The Star had appeared. As director, writer and star of the movie, he wanted us to know exactly what we were going to be doing. At least, that's what I think he wanted to tell us.

As he talked, people around us looked over, shrugging, mouthing the words; "Can you hear him?"

I yelled "Speak up!" but he was almost done.

A PA gave me their version of a dirty look. I glanced around, nobody had understood a thing The Star had said, a trainload of blank faces.

Virginia shrugged, shook her head when I asked if she heard what the Star had said. Nope, it was all a mumble to me and everyone that I talked to later.

Perhaps he should do more stage work, learn to project his voice.

Filming was about to begin.

Then the Rains Came

2010-06-03T15:20:00.000-07:00

June is one of those 'benchmark months'.

I try to have the garden in, equipment repaired, a book done and out to agents, things of that sort.Thought I would have more done by now, but the monsoon-type weather we have had over the past 6 weeks has slowed me down.

The floods of May have left everything down here in a quagmire state. The garden is so wet that it's more mud than dirt.

Working at the shop can be a bit nerve wracking. It's an all metal building and welding during a thunderstorm isn't a good idea. The Baja Bug and Yanmar tractor projects are slowly getting done.

So, I've read a bunch of books and worked on my videos. Will be posting them to Youtube next week.

I'll also be adding some comments to my posts on the Richard Clarke cyberwar books.

Shameless Self-Promotion

2010-05-14T11:41:00.000-07:00

Those of you who read this blog know that I've been working on a novel for the past five years. Which might seem to be a long time to write an action/adventure book based on cyber war.

The problems I encountered trying to find and verify information about the threat that exists in the Internet was a bit difficult, since most people don't want to admit this threat exists. In addition, my novel is based on the premise that the electronic media we all use can be used against us, in more than one way. This goes beyond financial, structural and nation/state attacks.

This week I read "Cyberwar, The Next Threat to National Security". For me, this book confirmed and justified all the work I did on my book. I have a different perspective than Mr. Clarke and Mr. Knake have on how a cyber war would affect the world and this country, but that's to be expected, considering our backgrounds.

The novel is done and I'm sending queries out to agents and publishers at this time. The only thing that concerns me about the publishing business is the amount of time it takes to get into print. This is not a book that can wait for two years.

I'm also considering putting it on the Internet, either through a blog or by posting videos of me reading it.

The novel is not the only that I've written in the past five years. I did a "romance-novella" spoof titled; "Shotgun Romance", a couple of screenplays and a dozen short stories.

During that time I was an extra in a feature film. OK, more like 'human background scenery'.

I've shot some short videos and will be posting them on YouTube in the future on my site at Tom2u.

That and worked on the farm. Hey, don't have to worry about getting to the gym!

Cyber War, The Next Threat to National Security

2010-05-14T11:22:00.000-07:00

I just read Richard Clarke and Robert Knake's latest book, "Cyberwar, The Next Threat to National Security" .

You don't know how relieved I am.

NO! Not that the threat of cyber war exists. I've realized it for a long time. Most people think that it's Hollywood movie stuff. Sorry gang, it's real life. I've accepted the possibility for a long time.

Mr. Clarke and Mr. Knake lay out the bare-bones truth in this book. The problem will be trying to get the average American to accept it.

IF you only read one book this year, hell, if you only read one book in your life, read this one. It will change your view of the world as we currently live in it.

After all, do you think that the stock market bounce of last week was just a glitch? Do you think the oil well problem in the Gulf of Mexico was an accident? Maybe they were or maybe they weren't. Either one of them could have happened with a logic bomb or a hacker overriding the control programs.

Thanks Mr. Clarke and Mr. Knake.

Agents of Change?

2010-05-10T12:36:00.000-07:00

Having fun, sending emails to literary agents. Which seems to take forever.

Please bear with me, the Internet isn't as fast out here as it is in the cities. As I've mentioned before, I had better Internet access in the Netherlands, 10 years ago. Even my neighbors, who just moved here from Nashville, complain about the service. No, they're not on dial-up, cable's not available, so they're using satellite. Which is pretty slow out here.

Yesterday, heard Bob Edwards Weekend's final chapter of "The Future of Publishing" series. Which sounds like it's going to keep changing, now more rapidly then ever.

Wonder how it's going to affect literary agents?

Everyone in the publishing game is now having to deal with the Web. Twitter, blogs, e-books, websites, all things that didn't exist 10 years ago.

Is the best thing to have a daily video of you reading your book? A podcast for those who are driving or otherwise busy? Followed up by a link to your blog/website where a reader can download a PDF file of your lastest chapter? With a 'donate to the starving writer' button for that all important PayPal account?

Will the writer be able to directly access the reader, without the need for publishers, agents and managers?

Stay tuned, it's all changing.

On the Vine...OR Maybe It Isn't

2010-05-10T09:46:00.000-07:00

Just joined Newsvine.

Read the article by Eve Tahmincioglu about contract work. Here's her article:
"Need a job, contract work could be new normal"

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/36826679/ns/business-careers

Then posted a comment about it, after I stopped laughing. (It beats crying about it.)

Don't know if it shows up on my new site. It's at http://tsegerson.newsvine.com/

Left another comment about 'contract work' here in the U.S.A. at http://www.%2001wageslave.blogspot.com/

I'm not worried, the rest of the country is now starting to catch on to what's really going on in the American workplace.

They can't keep telling tall tales to the Wage Slaves. We may look dumb, but we ain't stupid.

It ain't a pretty sight, what's going on in the workplace.

Wanna eat this year?

Get that garden in now.

April Showers, a Bit LATE

2010-05-05T11:21:00.000-07:00

For those of you who are wondering, yes, I survived the Great Flood of 2010.

There will be photos and maybe a video later.

Hope that all my friends in Nashville and Memphis are doing OK.

I don't even want to see what happened in those two cities. What I've seen on the Internet and TV has been too much.

Hang in there, it's got to dry out sooner or later.

What's Down For Now

2010-04-28T10:15:00.001-07:00

Me and "THE TREE"

It was a tremendous lightening bolt followed by a deafening crash of thunder that brought me out of the house and onto the porch last year. Bits of bark were scattered across the porch. I picked one up, it still steamed a bit.

Across the road, the large red oak had a stripe down it where the bark had been stripped off by the lightening strike.

My neighbor decided to have the tree cut down, since it was too close to their house and posed a threat of crushing it if it fell. A very real danger down here, since we have tornadoes and high winds in the Spring.

It's an old tree. We haven't been able to figure the age yet, but it's got to be close to 100 years old. I did a rough measurement on it and it's about 4 feet across and 80 feet tall. Or it was 80 feet tall.

So far, it's taken me over a week to cut the smaller branches off and work down to the big stuff. I'm talking limbs that are over a foot in diameter. Lots of tree left to process.

Most of it will wind up as firewood, keeping the old home warm when the cold winds blow.

The trunk, that's another story. I've always wanted to carve a large chair. Something about 10 feet tall, big enough for two people.

That or about a dozen nice coffee tables.

Do You Research or Just Write It?

2010-04-28T09:58:00.000-07:00

I spend a lot of time at the local library. A couple of weeks ago, my friend, the librarian, asked me, "Do you do research for your books?"

The question caused me to stop for a moment, "Can't write a book without doing research."

We got into a discussion, since that had been a topic brought up by some other librarians.

Even when I did my memoir-mockumentary (there's a new word for you), "Going Dutch, Trials of a Wage Slave" I did research. I checked on quotes, regulations, business topics and liability. Getting sued is no fun.

The novel I just completed took me almost 5 years to write. It's on a complex topic, cyberwar, and there aren't too many references out there. The subject is so leading edge, most people can't comprehend the topic.

It led to me creating a 4 drawer file cabinet full of background information. This doesn't include the movies, videos, library books, Internet, blogs, etc. that I reviewed to gain an understanding of my subject.

The worst thing a writer can do is put out a book that doesn't have all the latest info on the subject. Sure, it might be wrong in the future, when the technology advances or society overtakes the concept.

But for right now, it better be as good as you can make it.

Faking it will get you burned, every time.

April, Who's Getting Fooled?

2010-04-06T15:01:00.000-07:00

Time flies by, when you're working all the time.

I've been doing farm work, started the outline for the follow-up to the novel I just finished. Shouldn't say 'finished' because there will be revisions, edits, etc. when it gets sold to a publishing house. Let's just call it done for now. Doing the 'waiting on the agents' thing.

Dragged the Baja Bug off the trailer the other day. Can't believe it'll be 30 YEARS in June since I bought the beast. It was a typical, simple, red VW Beetle at that time. Got it from the second owner. The car has sat for about 10 years now. Stored while I worked in Europe and haven't had time to do any work on it since I've been back here. Too many other toys and irons in the fire.

May start yet another blog, to follow the rebuild work on the Baja Bug. I'll get some photos up in the next week or so. I started a video the other day to document the rebuild process. I've only built, rebuilt, modified, customized about two dozen VWs in my life, so I should have it looking good in time. Notice I didn't specify how much time...

Other than that, just enjoying the July weather in April. This can't be good, no matter how much we all love it. If it stays this way, will it be 130 in July?

I got a nice start on a sunburn yesterday, rototilling the garden with the tractor, before I realized that I was turning into a TOMato.

Enough of the bad puns, later.

Keep Trying

2010-03-19T10:19:00.000-07:00

Spent the past 24 hours trying to get a partial out to an agent.

Everything is fighting it, my computer didn't want to run the word processing program. Fixed it, moved on to reformatting a correctly formatted document that turned into junk on it's own. It's not like I haven't run into this before.

When I worked in the Netherlands, sending tech manuals halfway around the world, you wouldn't believe the way things would print out at the receiving end. That's why I check what I've done before sending it. Even then, it seems like there is some type of problem.

Today, ready to send the partial to the agent, went to another computer, where DSL/high speed is available. Now, I can get on my blog...but I can't get on my email to send them the partial!

To compound this, earlier I called their office, to clarify a couple of questions I had about the submission. Sent to voice mail, haven't heard back. Can't check my email to see if they answered my questions that way.

Are we having fun yet?

Doesn't matter, I don't stop.

Maybe my email server is having a problem.

Either way, I'll get the partial out.

If you're the agent in question, have mercy and a bit of patience, please.

What's that saying? 'That which doesn't kill me, makes me stronger!'

YOU WANNA BE IN MOVIES update

2010-03-13T18:27:00.000-08:00

I know, I know. Made a comment earlier about how I don't like to leave any projects 'undone'.

This one's been dragging on now for, ummmm, almost 3 years. Yes, time flies when you're researching and writing a novel. My car caught on fire, twice, still haven't fixed the carbs...OK, there were some short stories in there, the three blogs, farm work and a screenplay, but you get the idea.

Then I took the last year 'off', went, as a lady friend calls it, "incommunicado'. Part of the experience/research for the now completed novel. Which means I didn't do much in the way of worrying about being on the Internet or doing the blogs. Yes, there are a couple of unpublished posts that will complete the YOU WANNA BE IN MOVIES series.

I can now say that the feature film I was human background scenery on can be classified as a bomb. It won't be remembered as a classic, at least that's what I've been told.

For the really surprising confession is...I've yet to see it.

I'm so far out in the sticks that the local movie house didn't show it. When it came out on DVD, I decided that it wasn't worth buying. The local library is so small that we haven't got a copy of it. NO, I'm not going to rent it either.

Why? Word from my fellow human scenery extras is that the scenes we were in showed great shots of the train. As for us? Well, I understand that there wasn't much to be seen of the extras.

Hey LOOK! My head as a pixel!

The Sweet Taste of Rejection

2010-03-13T18:02:00.000-08:00

Oh, the joy!

Query emails going out, rejections now starting to roll in. Most people would be depressed, upset, angry. WHY?

You have to get rejected to be accepted. When I sold BMWs and Volvos for a living, I learned about sales averages. At that time, you had to talk to about 100 people to sell 1 car. At the dealership I worked at, you were expected to sell at least 10-15 cars a month. Anything less and it was talk with the sales manager time.

Try sending out 1,000 to 1,500 queries a month. You can see why car salesmen spend so much time at the dealership. Now, if you had the same rate of return, you'd have 10-15 agents interested in your 'product' at the end of the month.

Throw in the fact that you're not selling a known product. Raise the return rate to about 200 to 1 or higher. Yep, tough to sell a book.

You can't give up.

Me, I'm just getting started.

Persistence

2010-03-08T21:08:00.000-08:00

Persistence, that great word which means you don't stop until you reach your goal.

Tenacity is part of my personality. I will stay on the book, project, job, whatever, until it's done. Why stop? There's nothing more aggravating than a unfinished project lying around.

Which leads to the frustrating part of being a writer. The real work comes after I write the story. Then I have to find an agent or publisher.

I've sent out the query letter.

Now comes the hard part, waiting for the reply.

Your Efforts May Be In Vain

2010-03-03T19:29:00.000-08:00

OK, few hours since the last blog.

Agent Query email results?

No change.

Send the test email. Reformats itself to look as if I am unable to insert page breaks, etc.

Which I did, but they get stripped out when sent through the ISP server or maybe the virus hunter?

I am not having fun now.

Decided to go ahead, send the email to an agent. May she be merciful on my efforts.

After all, life out here in the 'rural areas' of America doesn't include the wonders of cable, DSL or high-speed internet of any type. Unless you want to spend the big bucks on satellite, which works at a less than satisfactory level. Just ask my neighbors, who have used it and then quit it.

Ah, but the views are sublime and the wonders of nature abound.

Yes, I LOVE NY and LA.

But it's hard to take this old boy out of the country.

So, dear agent, please be gentle
If rejection be thy choice
I shall suffer no remorse
For I have done my best

How Many Ways Can I Write This?

2010-03-03T16:45:00.000-08:00

Dear Agent,

Have I told you about my book?

Yes, I know this isn't the way to do it, but my angst is now overwhelming my restraint.

Spent the better part of the morning, rewriting my basic email query. Went out, chopped some wood for the wood burner. Got cleaned up and got on the Internet.

Enjoyed the nerve wracking experience of putting my carefully crafted query into an email, then checked it.

Yep, all that time spent putting page breaks, correct spacing, page numbers on the query, wasted. Down the tubes. Repair the damage and try again. Send the email to myself.

Haven't looked at it yet.

Afraid of what I'll find.

So, Dear Agent, you might not get the query until tomorrow.

For My Next Act...

2010-03-02T13:56:00.000-08:00

Yeah, a couple of weeks, I'll be back.

How about just shy of a year, by a couple of weeks?

That's the thrills, chills and headaches of writing, researching, editing and rewriting a novel.

It doesn't help when the agents/publishers decide that anything over 125,000 words is too long. I was at 136,000 words when I got the news by reading the blogosphere.

Back to cutting, rewriting, restructuring the book. I'm not complaining, because I'm convinced it improved the book, immensely.

Now it's time to find an agent. Which, from what I've heard, is much harder work than writing the book.

Yes, I've started writing the next book.

It's what I do.

No Excuses

2009-03-16T20:10:00.000-07:00

Not Going Dark, Just...

Don’t expect any more blog posts for a couple of weeks. More important for me to finish off the novel rewrite. Posting here takes time and it’s in very short supply right now.

No excuses, I'm writing, just not posting it.

Literary Agents Search

2009-02-25T05:09:00.000-08:00

If you write and want to be published or produced (in the case of film), then you know the biggest job is getting representation.

Believe it or not, over 100 years ago, agents didn't really exist. Writers contacted newspaper, magazine or book publishers about publication. You might get a deal to do an article or a contract, if there was a series involved.

Now you have agents who specialize. Some won't touch poetry, others screenplays. I can understand this, as the literary world is now much more complex than in the days of Mark Twain.

Which is OK, if you're a writer who only works in a specific format or genre.

I like to work in all forms of word and story construction. Whether it's Haiku, poetry, short stories, novellas, screenplays or novels, I've written them all. Blogs, websites and tech manuals can now be added to the resume.

No matter what you write, finding an agent you can work with is of supreme importance. I've never pushed myself to get an agent, until now. It's a time consuming process, but one which, if done right, can result in a long-term relationship.

Actually, it's more of a team than a one-on-one relationship. After all, you have the writer, the agent, the editor and the publisher/producer.

Having a Muse is optional.

I'm ready to find and work with an 'A-Team'.

Have Muse, will travel.

Cut to the Chase...Agents and Rewrites

2009-02-24T04:52:00.000-08:00

There won't be a follow-up post about the fire down the road. It would take too much space. The 'blog post' I wrote about it came in around 3,000 words. More a short story than a blog post.

Too much to do, getting ready for Spring planting. Already have some things done, but need to get more seed beds started and the garden ready. Plan on putting in a new orchard, mainly plum trees, but may try to add a few pear trees.

The 'to do' list at the shop is more a 'to do catalogue'. I'm still engineering the dump truck tailgate. This is not your usual tailgate. It's going to both tilt and swing open. It's a real workout to move the 40x92 inch tailgate around to make things fit and work correctly. Who needs time in the gym?

The novel rewrite is progressing, if that's a proper term for my slogging through mud pace. I'm now at the same spot I was back in January, before I lost the file. Time to put my foot down and increase speed.

Agents? Still reading blogs and doing research. If you're interested in representing me, don't hesitate to contact me.

Like any good gambler will tell you, "You can't win, if you don't play."

Place your bets!

Fractures and Fires

2009-02-14T10:53:00.000-08:00

What a week. Glad it's about over.

Since my last post, I cracked/broke a couple of bones in my left foot. Working on the dump truck tailgate, a large piece of angle iron dropped from the truck bed. My foot didn't get out of the way in time. Landed just above the steel-toe part of my work boots.

Nothing like 30+ pounds of steel falling four feet to land on your foot! It was more than an 'ouch' moment.

This led to me hobbling around the farm and shop the past couple of weeks. You can't stop, just because your foot looks like a blue-black lump.

Thought that I got a reprieve this past Wednesday. Rain was forecast, but we mainly got high winds, up to around 50MPH. I checked out the window, looked east, storm clouds. Went out the front door, stood on the porch, looked west. More storm clouds. Some were really low, blowing across the road. Hmmm, white, not dark gray.

That's when I realized the field up the road was on fire. Right next to my neighbor's house.

I'm still writing the post on the fire. More later.

Shiver or Sweat

2009-02-03T22:17:00.000-08:00

You have to love winter weather in the Midwest, actually, I might now qualify for the Southeast, but it's borderline.

In the past two weeks, it's been in the mid--60's and down to the mid-teens. Add in rain, sleet, ice, snow and light breezes in the 30-35 mile per hour range. Variations that happen within a 48 hour period. A weather roller coaster, repeat each week until dizzy. You get the idea, perfect weather to get sick as a dog.

I've spent the time either painting, welding, cutting firewood or rewriting the novel. Very little time left for the blogosphere.

When it's too cold, too hot or too wet to work outside, then I get a chance to catch up on my blogs.

Which at this rate means that I'm only a couple of years behind on blog posts.

Uncle Red's Anvil

2009-02-02T03:11:00.000-08:00

You never know what you’ve got, until you take a close look at it. Like with a magnifying glass.

A few years back, after my great-uncle Red passed away, his son began to sell off all his tools and farm equipment. Which to me was sacrilege. Tools are something that are useful forever, until you either wear them out or break them. Sell the tools that have been in the family, keeping things working, generating income, feeding your face? No way.

Terry offered me first shot at his stuff. Red had been a well known mechanic around these parts. If he couldn’t fix it, it was broke forever. Junk it and move on. Looking over his tools, I passed on most of them, I had a lot of the same tools already, except for the anvil.

I’ve never had an anvil. Always wanted one. Great for hammering out metal into whatever shape you can imagine. For years I used an old piece of railroad track rail, a cut-off piece I found beside a track. OK for small stuff, but not a real anvil.

A real one is massive. Rather hard to move around though. You don’t just snatch it up and toss it into the back of the car or pick-up truck. If it’s a good anvil, it’s a two men and a boy job.

Being about 6 foot 4, Terry is no puppy, I took the light end of the anvil. We maneuvered it into the back of my truck, I took it to the shop. It’s easy to unload something when all you have to do is lower it to the ground. Then I dragged it into the tractor shed.

Where it has sat for the past couple of years, on the shop floor, under a workbench. One of those ‘get around to it’ jobs. I either needed to weld up a stand or find a nice tree stump, like from an oak or walnut tree, to make a stand for the anvil. Get it up in the air where it would be at a good working height.

About a year ago, I cut down a red oak, pretty good sized tree. As I was chain-sawing it into firewood, I realized it would make a good anvil stand. The firewood was stacked and the stump was forgotten about, other projects to do at the time.

While working on a painting project a few weeks ago, I ‘found’ the old anvil, which reminded me about the stump. With some heavy metal projects coming up, I decided I had wasted enough time working without a real anvil. The red oak stump was trued up, cut parallel and then a section was cut off, at the right height for me.

The anvil was dragged to the center of the shop floor. Where I slowly raised it to the height of the oak anvil stand by levering it up on stacks of wood., adding pieces until it was high enough for me to grab it and move it onto the stand. Which is when I found out that the anvil overhung the stand by an inch on every side! ARRGGGH!

Which is why you measure twice and cut once. The trusty ‘micrometer eye’, able to measure nanometers on the fly, had misjudged the size. Damn big anvil.

If I had cut the tree stump four inches lower, I would have been in good shape. I used the rest of the stump for a chopping block, so it’s too short for an anvil stand.

I looked it over once it was on the stand. That’s when I noticed all the marks on it. Casting marks, pin-punch indentations made by hand, the scars of hammer strikes from the metal worked on it. A faint casting mark that appears to read “100 LB”. Which wouldn’t surprise me. It felt like a ton moving it.

I’ve already used the anvil and it works great. When you hammer out something on it, it’s got a beautiful, bell-like ring to it. A tonal quality that can’t be expressed with words.

When the old man came down last week, I asked him about the anvil. Did he have any idea about where it came from? Was it off the old farm, from my great-grandfather? He didn’t know for sure, but thought that it might have come from this farm. Which means that it may have traveled full circle.

I’m gonna take some chalk and see if I can ’read’ those casting marks. They don’t make anvils like they used to and I would like to find out more about this one. It’ll be around for many more years.

You ever wear one out or break one, then you know you’ve done a helluva job. To do it would take more than a lifetime. Maybe a half-dozen.

Add a hammer and a piece of metal, you can make almost anything. With every strike of the hammer, the anvil sings a new song.

Real heavy metal music.

2008, Goodbye!

2009-01-01T18:46:00.000-08:00

What a year!

Big gap between this and my last blog post. Didn't mean to be gone so long. A few unexpected incidents, some dealt with, others avoided.

Was cranking along on my novel rewrite, about 25% done and the file became corrupted. Usually, I back these up, this time, I was in a hurry, going to come back to it...when I did...nothing.

My own fault, got out of my routine and paid for it. The good thing about this? I found a book that I should have read about 6 months ago, have been reading it and it will help my novel a great deal. Which means that I would have been doing another rewrite anyway, IF I found this book. The reason I found it was because I was angry and depressed about losing the novel draft file, so went to the library. IF I hadn't gotten angry and stopped working on the rewrite, I might never have found this book. The rewrite is coming along great now.

Farm work? It never stops. I'm cutting fire wood for the new wood stove and it eats it like there is no tomorrow. The other farm projects never end. I could write a book about that alone.

Close calls...almost too many to think about. On the way to the store the other night, came around a curve. Bambi and his sister were standing in the road. I slammed on the brakes, put the truck sideways and counter-steered to go between the two deer. Missed the one on the right by about two feet and the one on the left by about the same margin. Good thing there wasn't any oncoming traffic, since I wound up in the left lane, coasting. I had hit the brakes so hard, before shoving in the clutch, that I stalled the engine. Probably rolled about two hundred feet before I realized that the motor was dead and restarted it. You don't even want to hit a deer of any size. You could both wind up dead.

Then I stuck the 4X4 pickup in the pine grove the other day. Bogged down in mud up to it's axles. Which meant towing it out with the tractor. A small tractor, one that's about a third the size of the truck. You ever try to drive a truck and a tractor at the same time? One towing the other backwards? I won't go into how I did it. It might give someone ideas and lead to them getting hurt. When I told a friend of mine about it, all he could say was, "YOU'RE CRAZY!" Yeah, OK, but I lived to tell about it.

So, 2008 was pretty much a strange year, for me and the world in general. Now that it's behind us, time to get on with 2009.

After all, we ain't dead yet, so it's got off to a good start!

Have a great 2009!

Worldwide Information

2008-12-08T08:51:00.000-08:00

I follow blogs of many different people.

It's great to get information and views from all over the world, without leaving the comforts of the old farmhouse.

Since I have always had an interest in astronomy, it would follow that I would also look into astrology. Two of the people that I read are Kathryn Cassidy and Jonathan Cainer.

http://collaboratingwithfate.blogspot.com

http://www.kathryncassidy.com/home

http://www.cainer.com

From their recent posts, it looks like we could have an interesting week ahead!

When it comes to the world of publishing, I've been reading Janet Reid.

http://jetreidliterary.blogspot.com

She's funny and will not hesitate to figuratively 'put the knife in', if you deserve being skewered for a bonehead comment or other faux pas. That's a social blunder for those of you non-French speakers. She also gives GREAT advice on how to query literary agents.

Which is still on the list of things to do. I will have to revise my agent list now, since I don't know who's working for who this week, after the great publishing industry bloodbath last week.

I'll be going to AgentQuery to get that update info.

http://www.agentquery.com

It's all out there, you just have to dig it up.

Now, back to my novel rewrite...

Hollywood Strike Redux

2008-12-08T08:38:00.000-08:00

It's the Holiday Season, so it must be time for a strike in Hollywood.

Last year, the Writers Guild of America showed how you could strike and not get any real benefits, except the enduring animosity of your Hollywood co-workers.

This year, the Screen Actors Guild has dragged their feet, probably didn't have a script for contract talks. Now they're going to finally call a strike vote, something they should have done BEFORE the contract expired, back in June.

I've been following the fun and games over on Nikki Finke's blog; http://www.deadlinehollywooddaily.com

My post over there won't win me any friends, but I'm fed up with the lack of action.

Here's the key part of the post:

Get a hint from the workers in Chicago:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/28111166/

I'm all for people getting a good contract, no matter what industry they work in.

You better be brave enough to risk it all to deserve it.

It's not going to be handed to you.

Whining about it won't get the job done.

Hey Wait! The Year Can't Be OVER!

2008-12-01T22:15:00.000-08:00

It has to be a cosmic maelstrom, spinning us closer and faster towards...

OK, maybe everything is going into the toilet. How cosmic is that?

First of December, missed a deadline, self-imposed on finishing the "Project X" novel.

Did get the van painted, set a new low temperature record. You're not supposed to be able to spray paint a vehicle in 54F temps. I just did and it's not pretty, but it's shiny and done.

Most of the weekend was dedicated to minor home remodeling. Boring topic, but the new wood stove is snapping and crackling, pumping out heat as I type this.

Other than that, I spent quality time chasing poachers out of the fields.
The winning excuse of the week is, "I'm just out looking for the golf balls we hit into this here soybean field."
Yummy! Nothing like the taste of golf ball flavored tofu!

Now, if the weather will clear and get up around 60, I might just get the pickup truck painted this week.

Then I'm gonna pray for rain, so I can sit inside, roast my toes and work on the novel.

Paying For Research

2008-11-21T07:48:00.000-08:00

Or the lack thereof.

Back in the Spring, I sold an old rototiller to a neighbor. This being the 'Year of the Rototiller', everyone putting in gardens.

She used it, until it spit it's drive pulley, came off while churning the dirt. Then she borrowed her daughter's rototiller, dragged it down from Nashville. Rototilled the rest of the garden, then decided to do another patch.

While starting it, the engine pull rope didn't retract and got snatched up by the rototiller tines. This snapped the starting rope. Now she had two rototillers, neither one of which worked. She called me.

Did I want to trade work, fix the daughter's rototiller and get my old one back?

No, I don't need any more rototillers, that's why I sold two of them this year. Didn't do any good, my father bought more at an auction. We won't go there.

Would I fix the daughter's rototiller? She wanted to take it back to Nashville. I agreed to this on one condition. The rototillers were not coming to the shop. I would fix them at her farm. Last thing I need is more immovable machinery in the shop.

I went out to her farm one morning, took the daughter's rototiller apart, rewound the spring, attached the rope and put it back together. Then the rototiller wouldn't start. Pulled the spark plug, it was fouled. Cleaned it, started the rototiller. We went over to the one she bought from me.

It was too easy. The drive pulley had come off because a small metal 'key' had come out of the drive shaft. The key rides in grooves in the driveshaft and the pulley, which locks them together. I glance at the driveshaft, pick up the pulley and inspect it. No damage to either one. I think I know what I'm looking at.

I figure that I have a 'woodruff key' for the pulley back at the shop and leave. The only ones at the shop are too big. I'm going to town the next day, so I stop at the hardware store and get two woodruff keys. They are half-moon shaped and come in different lengths, but are the same thickness. I check them in the pulley.

That evening, I'm back at her farm, ready to fix the rototiller. When I spin the driveshaft over, so I can put the key in from the top, I realize my mistake. It's got a straight-cut key, not a woodruff key. I needed a 3/16th square piece of steel key stock, not a half-moon key.

I didn't do my research, so I got to pay for it.

It gets better.

I thought I had the right bar stock at the shop. Close, no cigar. I had a piece of 5/32th stock. So, I call the rototiller lady, ask her if she will stop at the hardware store to get the right material. Sure, no problem she tells me. She goes into town almost every day. I've already called the hardware store, to be sure they have the right key stock. They do and everything should be fine.

The next evening I'm back at the rototiller lady's farm, ready to fix this thing after three attempts. She proudly hands me the foot-long bar of metal key stock, little white ID flag flying.

It looks small. I put it in the rototiller pulley. It's way too small. Then I look at the little ID tag. It's 1/8th stock.

She didn't look at the tag when the hardware store lady handed her the key stock.

Which goes back to my previous post about research. If you do it, cross-check it. If you let someone else do it, you still have to check it. Otherwise you both pay for it.

I handed the rototiller lady her pulley, so she can match the key stock with the groove.

At this time, the rototiller still isn't fixed.

You have to have the right key.

Breakfast, Then and Now

2008-11-20T06:54:00.000-08:00

What’s your way to start the day?

Years ago, I would gulp a can of cola, grab a donut or four and head out the door. If I had time, stop by the drive-thru grease pit and get a carbo-load of pancakes and fake maple syrup, throw some slabs of fried pig on the side and voila, fatfest.

Great in the old days of 12-16 hour slogs in the shop. Burn those calories like a raging forest fire. The body changes as does the routine.

When I settled into the more sedentary life of writing, burning brain-cells didn’t seem to overcome too many calories. I began to accumulate insulation, slowly layering it up, under my skin. This slowed me down and allowed it to build up faster.

Life in Europe didn’t help the situation. All that fresh bread, scones, crumpets, Dutch pastries…chocolate in everything else, except the beer. I was on my way to becoming a rotund one.

My return to America on the good ship Queen Elizabeth 2 was the crowning touch. I gained about twelve pounds in ten days. Huge breakfast, walk the decks, read, write, lunch, write, nap, tea-time, walk the deck or read, dinner, movie or catch a couple of the Blues groups (it was a "Blues Cruise", 10 days, 18 acts), evening stroll around the deck, then a midnight snack. You get the picture; I was burning about 137 calories and taking in 9,000.

When I got to Tennessee the scale informed me that I was nearly 190 pounds. Which is way too much for my frame. The move to the farm brought that out in a hurry. Out of shape and overweight a doctor put me on a natural diet. It probably saved my life.

Breakfast now is composed of oatmeal and tea. Boring but healthy. OK, I add a few ingredients to the oatmeal. First in is sliced pears or apples. We have pear trees on the farm and I use them fresh when I can, preserved when out of season and frozen in between. Then I throw some peanut butter into the mix, top with dark chocolate chips and add pecans. There are pecan trees here and this year we had a good crop.

The green tea gets raw honey from the local apiary. I haven't used sugar except in an emergency while away from home. There isn't any in the house.

Sounds like I circumvented the doctor, but I’ve lost the weight that I gained and more. I’m now about ten pounds heavier than when I played football in high school.

In my opinion, half the battle is going back to natural foods and getting away from the processed debris sold as food in many fast-fried places.

It’s your body, fill it up any way you want.

Don’t call me when it breaks down.

I only fix cars.

Research, Love It or Pay For It

2008-11-19T05:54:00.000-08:00

In my last post I mentioned that the ending for my novel came to me while taking a pecan break from house painting.

Why did it take a couple of weeks from the 'moment of enlightenment' to getting back to the novel?

I spent that time doing research, reading and cross-checking information. When writing a techno-thriller, all the elements should be feasible. Suspension of disbelief can only take place when you present a good argument. Too far out and it becomes fantasy or sci-fiction.

Research is something that I love to do. Finding out about places, things and people help me paint a better picture for my audience. Why pay someone to do it for you? First hand knowledge is the best.

If you don't know the subject, don't try to fake it! It's a sure bet that there will be someone out there who will catch you.

Your agent and publisher might not notice. They're counting on you to have done your homework. If it gets past them and into the hands of the public, it could be a different situation.

You don't want to pay that price.

And Now, THE END as a Beginning

2008-11-18T09:17:00.000-08:00

The "Project X" novel has been in the works now for more years than I want to mention. You don't want to get any elements wrong in a techno-thriller. The 'experts' will kill you.

Been gnawing over the ending for the past months, many of them.

A couple of weeks ago, while taking a pecan break during the great house painting escapade of 2008, it struck me. The ending, wrapping up all the elements of my novel, popped into my head as I masticated a pecan. I didn't do a little victory dance, just leaned back against the truck and went, "Whoa, that's it!"

Now I'm rewriting the book, cutting into the 257 pages, slicing the 130,000 plus words, paring it down. Excising fat, leaving meat and bone.

Gotta steal a line here;

"I love it when a plan comes together."*

*("The 'A' Team" TV show)

Your Role in this Movie, Book, Life, etc.

2008-11-12T17:05:00.000-08:00

How do you talk about your life?

This blog is supposed to reflect the efforts I'm making as a writer. Less than two percent of those efforts make the blog. If I blog about everything, I wouldn't get any farm work done, much less work on my novel or other work.

From my vantage point, here in Cherry Bottom, people seem to reflect a character they admire. They buy and wear clothes like that of their favorite star, politician or sports hero. Even get their hair cut the same way. Until they take the risks and go out there and do the thing, it's all hero worship.

People get obsessed with a book, play, movie, games, you name it. TV and now the Internet gives even more examples of how you can lead or mislead your life.

That's the tough part.

Leading a life you can call your own.

An Honest Day's Work

2008-11-12T16:10:00.000-08:00

For an honest day's wage.

I read other blogs, not as many as I would like, but I try to get an overview of the publishing world. Janet Reid's blog is one of the few that I follow.

http://jetreidliterary.blogspot.com/

She also posts over at "Hey, There's a Dead Guy in the Living Room".

http://heydeadguy.typepad.com/heydeadguy/2008/11/ive-gone-over-to-the-dark-side.html

Buying books is always an experience. I've been surprised at what I've found in old bookstores, usually something that I never would have thought of buying until I stumbled upon it.

That's been changed, with the advent of online book sales. I'm glad that there are ways for people to buy books over the Internet. I've bought and sold books that way myself. It's a new marketplace.

It made me realize that there are too many opportunities in this day and age for people to benefit from the work done by another, without compensation. There are plenty of examples of pirating in the film and music business. Books aren't immune.

When it comes to e-books and tracking their sales, how do you do inventory? Who knows the exact number of downloads?

I've been stonewalled when I ask these questions, either on the phone, letter or by email. The lone writer gets no respect from the company, big or small.

It's one of the reasons that I am looking for an agent for my work.

Let them fight those battles,
earn their keep.
I've got an empty page to fill,
words to go,
before I sleep.

(I couldn't resist....)

Just In Time

2008-11-12T08:44:00.000-08:00

Finally got the house painted, took longer, much longer than I expected due to the changing weather and my getting the flu. I wrapped that up yesterday, just in time. We're getting much needed rain.

Some people hate the rain, I don't mind it. It gives me the excuse to stay inside and work on my writing. Which is how I would rather make my living, rather than be in the shop or doing farm work. It's getting harder for the average person to make ends meet. The flea market is disastrous right now, the scrap metal market is even worse.

An example. Three months ago, automobile scrap metal was at $14 dollars per hundred pounds. Now it's at $1 dollar per hundred pounds. For those of you who only pay attention to Wall St. and the stock market, that's like the Dow Jones dropping from 14,000 to 1,000.

When I hear the big boys whine about how tough it is in the markets, I shake my head. They have no clue.

Everyone is talking about change.

That's the one thing that's constant in life.

It probably will be what you don't expect.

Last Minute Chores

2008-11-05T07:23:00.000-08:00

There is always something that has to be done, usually at the last minute. You can't paint a house in the rain or if it gets cold.

I love to paint. Something about putting a new gloss on something old, bringing it back to life or giving it a different look.

When it comes to house painting, I could care less. I’ve been here for more than six years now and the office/living room still hasn’t been painted. It’s still got primer in places and the door frames are stripped to bare wood, all work done by a previous tenant. I’ve had other projects, so it can wait. When I moved in, it was a rush situation, so the painting was put off. On top of that, I don’t like to think about, much less move all the ‘office furniture’ to paint the room. All those books and magazines…

The house that I’m painting up the road, that’s another deal. A necessary evil. Money to pay the bills. Painting the exterior of a house isn’t any fun either, climbing up and down ladders, scraping peeled, dead paint until my hands are scuffed and raw. It has to be done before the weather changes and it’s too cold and wet.

What I like to do is custom paint work. Flame jobs, stripes, two or three tone colors. Something that knocks your eyes out when it rolls down the road. If it’s on top of custom bodywork, so much the better. Then you have an original piece of work. Rolling sculpture.

I’ve got a van and a truck, both in primer, ready to be final sanded, taped up and sprayed. That’s what I would rather be doing right now.

Putting a paint job on a vehicle has always be a time consuming process, but when done, it’s a shiny testimony to your skill.

It’s those chores of necessity that get in the way.

Parking Lot Treasure

2008-11-04T08:29:00.000-08:00

You see a lot of strange things at the flea market. Some of them won’t be on the tables or trailers for sale.

I was talking to Camo-man, watching the strollers surge from table to table. When they get to his ammo, knives, targets and military surplus stuff, they either speed up or slow down to eyeball the goods.

Movement in the parking lot caught my eye and I turned from the table and looked over to see a family of four, one of the children down on his knees in the gravel parking lot. At first, I thought that he might have fallen and was hurt. Then I realized that he was scratching the dirt around a rock.

I walked over, the amateur geologist in me curious about his actions. People have told me that I have rocks in my head, but I really have them scattered around the house. Everything from crystals to volcanic slag, beach rocks and fossils. An amber pyramid, cut from petrified tree sap, sits on my desk, next to other rocks and minerals. I usually bring something back from every trip I’ve ever taken. It’s a lifelong affliction.

The father of the child looked up as I approached.
“Everything all right?” I asked.
“Yeah, he’s found something.”
The boy, about 11 or 12 was excited, “I just looked down and saw it! Right there in that rock.”

He’s pointing at a dark brown rock about five inches long and four wide. I stoop down and look closely at it. A dark, raised ridge runs diagonally across it, ending in a wider, flattened section. I run my fingers over the rock, shake my head in wonder.
“It’s a snake fossil! I don’t believe it! Probably been here for years, people driving and walking over the top of it. How did you notice it?”
The kid shrugged, “I just looked down and saw it.”
His father shakes his head, “Who knows how big that rock is.”

They had been digging around it with their fingers and house keys. My truck was parked about fifteen feet away, I turned and headed towards it.
“Let me see if I’ve got something.” I rummaged through the tie-down straps, rope and other farm necessities in the area behind the truck seat before I realized that I would have to unload the mess to get to my tire tool. Backing out of the truck, I went over to Camo-man.

“You got a shovel or something I could…?” his look of disbelief stopped me short.
“Just what is it that you’re doing?” His look wasn’t encouraging, as the thought flashed through my mind that I was digging up someone’s parking lot. I shook my head.

“Nothing, the kid’s found a fossil, I need a pry bar or something.” I turned to the young couple next to Camo-man. They’ve been trying to sell t-shirts for the past month. “Hey, you wouldn’t have a shovel or a pry bar would you?”

I get the ‘are you crazy’ look from the blonde in the pink hot pants, while her boyfriend looks blank for a minute, then dives into his truck and comes out with a small nail-puller pry bar. “Will this work?”

I grab it, it’s brand new, look over at him, “Yeah, if you don’t mind me digging up a rock with it.”
“Go ahead, you can’t hurt it.”

The family is staring across the parking lot at me. Waving the pry bar, I dodge back from a car creeping through the lot. The driver and passengers surprised to see a scruffy man waving a pry bar around, like he’s about to put it through their windshield. The car accelerates past me. I cross over to the fossil family.

“This will do the trick.” I turn the sharp, flat chisel-edge down, lean on the curved prying section and lever into the dirt around the rock. It embedded, years of rain, cars and people stepping on it have sunk it into the parking lot.

Scribing around the edge, dirt flakes away, smaller pebbles break loose and roll off. I work the pry bar down into the gravel, finally getting under a section of the rock. It comes up out of the ground with smaller rocks still clinging to it.

I peer closely at it, turn it over, looking for other fossils in it. There isn’t any visible, but the rock needs to be washed off to really know. The kid hovers next to me, as if I’m going to steal his treasure.

I hand it to him, “Great eye! That’s a real find, a complete snake, except for his head.” I point out the indentation where the head should be, the only part that’s been broken out of the fossil.
The kid’s ecstatic, he’s about to jump out of his skin. Show it to his folks. His mother and father are beaming. I turn back to the kid.

“Hey, do me a favor. Take it over and show those guys.” I point towards the young couple and Camo-man. “They let me use the pry bar, so you should at least show them what you found.”

The kid nods, eager to show off his prize. We stroll over to the tables and everyone looks at the snake fossil.

People shake their heads in wonder, disbelief, and some, with a touch of contempt.

After all, it’s just an old snake, stuck in a rock for the past 50,000 years or so. Who cares?

I guess you had to be there.

A Day on the Farm, Work and Writing

2008-11-03T06:03:00.000-08:00

You don't want to do the work I do, it's difficult and dangerous. It's not as dangerous as coal mining or firefighting, but it's got it's challenges.

Life on the farm is unlike anywhere else. Sure, things are pretty much set to a natural cycle, but events and routines are changed more often than in any other work situation.

I get up around 5-6AM and sometimes don't go to bed until after midnight. In between, I'll work on equipment, take care of the animals (not many, as we're not running livestock), deal with unexpected events (neighbor's animals getting loose, etc.), maintain the property...just plain hard work.

Then, if I'm not too tired, work on my writing.

That's been the summer schedule.

With winter approaching, I try to write in the early morning, then do farm work until dark, which is now around 5PM here.

I usually write out a blog post, then review it. Still make mistakes, but that's part of getting it done.

Looked over my "Project X" calendar, found that I hadn't done any writing/rewriting on it for a couple of months. Which doesn't mean that I stopped doing research on it. Trying to 'forget' it, so I have a fresh perspective when I come back to it. I won't snooze on this one any longer. Events in the world are catching up to it's premise and I have to get it out to an agent or publisher.

It's the query emails that eat up time and really frustrate me. Haven't done any in a long time and they are the necessary evil of the literary world.

Like any writer, I hate getting the rejections.

One day though, I'll get the reply I want to see, maybe more than one.

That will be the validation of my efforts.

Someone else understands my work.

Quantity and Quality Control

2008-11-02T06:41:00.000-08:00

I don't like making mistakes, few people will admit to them and even more ignore them.

Past couple of blog posts I've hammered out, trying to get back on a daily schedule. When I reviewed what I had written, couldn't believe the number of errors, misspellings, we won't go into the the grammatical structure. I have an excuse for my twisted writing style.

Since I've been educated in various places, North, South, Europe and America, I have been exposed to different languages structures. German isn't written like English and French has it's own way of construction. Nederlands (Dutch) sounds like German, but 'vrouw' and 'frau' both mean 'wife' yet they aren't spelled the same but sound similar to a foreign ear. Throw in regional dialects and their special connotations, you can come up with a strange brew of languages.

Sure, it's a cheesy excuse, but it's mine.

Language laws are made to be broken.

I do it all the time.

As long as you get the idea out there.

Unknown Dead

2008-11-01T22:43:00.000-07:00

It was one of those middle of the night phone calls. Lying in the dark, phone ringing, not quite asleep.

I look at the phone, a name I don’t know. Is it some local meth-head, trying to score? Another drunken wrong number, looking for their love? A phone call I don’t want to answer, with a person telling me that someone I know is hurt or dying and I need to rush to a hospital?

Thoughts that pour through my mind, a jumbled cascade as I stare at the unknown name on my phone with the strange number. The answering machine kicks in, they don’t drop off, but start to leave a message.

“Hello, Mr. Thomas, I know it not a good time of night to call and get up with you….”

I pick up the phone. He’s apologizing for the late hour, couldn’t sleep, had to call me. I ask what I can do for him. It’s an old carny, who goes by the name of ‘Tom’. His real name is Gordon, but he’s called Tom. Something about shirts he wore when he first joined the carnival. Which leads to the first of more than a couple of stories that I’ll hear over the next hour.

When I met Gordon, three weeks ago, he was at the local flea market. I was running a table, trying to sell some of my accumulated goods, a polite way of saying I was trying to get rid of some of my junk. It also gives me an excuse to get off the farm, check out what the local folks are doing and maybe, if I’m lucky, make a couple of dollars.

You never know who is going to show up. My neighbors have wandered up, surprised to see me sitting there, clothes, exercise equipment, copies of my self-published book arrayed across the weathered wooden table.

An author I know from the defunct local writer’s group, shocked that I was mixed in among the rabble. People who pick over things, some just to see what you have, others are truly interested. Snooping and sniffing for a bargain.

A man stops, looks at some of the blue jeans for sale. He’s wearing a shirt with a fiberglass company logo, so I ask if he works for them. “Nope, just have the shirt. I’ve done fiberglass work for years, built those waterpark slides all over the country. Do roofing now.”

I nod, “Yeah, I done a bit of ‘glass work myself, mainly cars, a few boats.”

We talk fiberglass for a few minutes. He picks up a copy of my book, looks over at me.

“Wrote that just after I got back from Europe. People don’t really know the difference between working here and over there. Too many think that it’s all socialism over there. They have more rights than we do and don’t lose their benefits if the company fires them or gets bought up by another company. We bail out the companies and mistreat the people who do all the work.”

He nods and says, “Yeah, you have to work for yourself. Then you can set the price.”

We talk about work, life in general and that topic of disgust, how the economy went to hell. He looks my book over, reads the back cover, “I’ve got someone you should meet. You got a minute?”

“How’s that? I mean, there’s no one here to watch this…” My hand sweeps across the table, turning my dross into gold.

“There’s a guy here, wants someone to write a book about his life. He needs a writer. I was just talking to him about it. He’s right up the way here.”

I’m taken aback. There’s not too many people who you would expect to want a book written about them working at a flea market. Most people here would like to forget about their lives and just make the rent, buy some food and keep the electric on in the old homestead. I look over at Camo-Man, who’s daughter is here helping him.

“Hey, can she watch my table for a couple minutes? I’ll be right back.”

Camo-Man nods and his daughter comes over. She watched me set up and I’ve got prices posted on everything.

“I’ll split the profit with you on anything that you sell. OK?”

“Sure!”

“Good, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

We take off through the throng and dodge our way towards the center of the flea market. Along the way, he’s nodding, waving, saying “Hello” to people. He stops one portly man, makes a snide comment to him, most of which I miss, then moves on through the crowd. He turns to me, “That’s the sheriff, always good to know the sheriff.”

I nod in agreement, “Just as long as he’s not serving a warrant.” We trudge on and suddenly he stops in front of a pork skin stand.

Pork skins are a country delicacy which are self-descriptive, yet indescribable. The first time I threw the pellets into a vat of boiling oil, I knew I could never eat them. Later that day, after finishing off the first bag, I got two more bags to take home with me. They were like eating bacon-lite, not quite as greasy, great with beer. I ate them constantly for about seven months and haven’t touched them now for over fifteen years. After all, deep fried pig skins are still pig skins. Good for footballs, not my stomach.

In front of me is a long-haired man, a snowy beard dappled with black, short, energetic, hands waving about as he explains something to a woman’s he talking to. The crowd surges around us, islands in the middle of the stream.

The fiberglass man grabs Tom the carny’s arm, “He’s a writer,” pointing at me.

Tom nods, “Yeah? I’ve got a writer, school teacher down in Selmer, gonna write my book.”

I think, ‘Wonderful, that’s the end of that…time to go back to the table.’ Still, I’m not about to leave without throwing in my two cents. “That’s great! Are you working on it now?”

He shakes his head, “She hasn’t had time, been teaching school.”

I nod, thinking, ‘Yeah, I’ll bet…what’s a good excuse for me?’. Before I can say anything, he’s off and running, veering through stories, piling decades together, not quite in sequence.

It was the story about the unknown dead guy that got me. Man who had worked for him for six months, running the ‘duck pond’. A game that has rubber ducks floating in it, numbers on the bottom. Put a dollar in the man’s hand, pick up a duck, see what prize you won.

Tom the carny had called him “Quack Quack”, since he didn’t know his real name. Lots of people, on the run, making a living, just getting from one place to another, no names, pay in cash, gone in the morning. Carnies don’t ask any questions, just as long as you pull your weight. Otherwise you can hit the road, the carnival doesn’t need any freeloaders.

They had set up for the weekend. The carny told me that he had left with his girlfriend, spent the day at the lake, swimming and picnicking. Got back late. In the morning he goes to check on Quack Quack and finds him dead on his cot, lying in the back of a game trailer.

Now, over thirty years later, the carny wants to find out Quack Quack’s real name and contact his family, tell them where he’s buried. That and write a book, except for one problem.

He doesn’t know how to write.

ad naseum, ad nauseum, ad nauseam, etc.

2008-11-01T22:30:00.000-07:00

I HATE misspelling words. Use my spellcheck often, still mess up.

When I wrote the title to the previous post, it bothered me, but I was in a hurry and published it. Since it wasn't in my dictionary, I finally checked it tonight and found out that I had it wrong.

It stands corrected and I learned something.

All these years, I had been spelling it wrong, as in the second example, besides the fact that I left out the 'u', as in the first example in the title above, when I wrote the previous blog post.

I can only offer the lowly excuse that I never took Latin in school.

Now back to our regularly scheduled misadventures.

Halloween, Flu... ad nauseam

2008-10-31T07:37:00.000-07:00

It's been too long and it doesn't seem like it. Ten days, where did they go...

Plenty to write about, but work and a bout with the flu have slowed me down.

Until now. I'm much better, thanks and the posts that are in the review process are going to be up this weekend. Don't place any bets on it.

Since tomorrow's a new month, I'll start my monthly writing log with entries for my "Project X" novel and at least one blog post.

There, it's in print and in public, so I'll have to do it!

On my 01 Wage Slave blog, I'm going to start with employee tactics. Those basics to cover yourself, in case, make that WHEN, you're 'laid off'. Check out the link below:

http://01wageslave.blogspot.com/

Since the election is winding down, I'll do a couple of more posts on the faux election, what it means and how people like Ted Stevens can be convicted and still elected. Yes, I expect him to be re-elected.

http://1apolitical.blogspot.com/

Have a happy and safe Halloween.

Watch out for the ghost dog in my yard.

His bite is worse than his bark, since he doesn't bark.

Fair warning, as posted.

Undone, Unsaid and Unfinished

2008-10-21T07:07:00.000-07:00

The list of things that need to be finished, much less started, is growing daily.

Frankfurt's Buchmesse (Book Fair) has come and gone, the Surrey Writers Conference is this week. I've been to one, but not the other. Planned on going to Surrey this year, but it's not to be. I'll write a post about Frankfurt. It's an event that every writer should plan on attending at least once in their life.

I'm painting a house, instead of the van and truck that have been 'on the schedule' for the past month. Finally delivered the welding truck to it's old/new owner. He's probably glad to have it back, I'm glad to have it out of the barn. It sat here for over two years after he bought it.

The welding truck escapade interfered with my going to the flea market for the past two weeks. I'll have to check in with the folks down there and see how the real economy is doing.

We should get some rain in the next couple of days. That will give me the time to get my writing caught up. I also have to get back to sending out queries to agents.

I would make a list of everything that I need to do, but it would take all day!

A Post is a Post is a Post

2008-10-13T23:04:00.000-07:00

When confused, drivel is always soothing. Just ask any baby.

I was going to write a post, but had to put in some posts today. The fence post type of post.

This being rather mundane, back-breaking type labor, but necessary to keep animals in and predators out. It was an unscheduled task, as I was already working on cleaning the shop.

Shop cleaning is perpetual, especially when I am trying to paint a vehicle. Nothing like dust, spiderwebs, dog hair or other detritus embedding itself in new shiny paint. Doesn't add to the luster.

My father, swooping down from the far hills of town, descended on the farm mid-afternoon. He was early, usually he doesn't show up until about an hour before dark, then wants to work until the bats come out.

His penchant for secrecy doesn't allow for me to be informed beforehand as to the 'job of the day'. There are only about eighty-four things that need to be done, but with the posts and other fencing materials lying out by the road, the sight of undone work might have spurred this event.

Without further ado, the tractor was equipped with the post-hole digger, and post-haste, we went to drill the earth. For those of you who have never enjoyed such endeavors, allow me to relieve your angst. The immense thrill of churning dirt with an over-powered drill bit cannot be understated. The real excitement comes from dodging the tractor as it's being maneuvered into place. It's too easy for someone to back over you, when the tires are taller than you are.

The usual planning went into this project. Which translates as; 'it was planned as we went'. After the sixth post, I was informed that we were not 'aiming' the line of posts in the proper direction. My mistake was to think that we would place the posts across the property, in a straight line. As it turns out, they are now curved, to match the road. What was I thinking?

Equally spaced they are not. Why measure the distance, divide by the number of posts and do layout with a chalk line? Let's not confuse the issue with planning. Just get 'er done!

Rather than bring on more tears from your overworked eyes, I'll rest the matter now.

The posts are in, this post is done. We even finished before the bats came out.

I'll have to go back and level them off with a chainsaw though.

The heights are a bit uneven.

There isn't more than five inches of difference between most of them, except those at the gate.

Which are about a foot different in height.

Not bad for government work.

Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch...

2008-10-12T21:54:00.000-07:00

This is a post to let you know that the posts that I've been meaning to post will be posted as soon as I've written them to the required posting minimum.

Do not confuse this with the current state of confusion regarding the unstated panic, fed by the fear of worldwide markets. A market cannot bite you, except in the wallet.

Remember, it's all paper money.

Unless of course, you're using plastic.

Normal posting will resume when everything returns to normal.

Whatever that is.

Ivory Tower Ignorance

2008-10-09T08:54:00.000-07:00

You have to hand it to the news media. When they 'go to an expert' they try and pick a good one. This CNN article is correct, but it misses the point. Check out the link:

http://www.cnn.com/2008/POLITICS/10/09/eichengreen.depression/index.html?iref=mpstoryview

Here's my comment, don't know if CNN will post it:

More 'Ivory Tower' ignorance. Sure, all of his statements about government action/inaction are correct. The problem is that when people aren't working, they aren't paying taxes. The 'New Deal' had to create jobs before this country started to pull out of the Great Depression. You can 'create' all the credit, etc. you want, without work, you don't have product. People have to eat, have a roof over their heads and contribute to the country through their job before any of the banks, etc.really matter. All markets are based on product, not credit or paper!

Further thoughts on the situation;

It all comes back to tangible assets.

You don't acquire 'tangible assets' without work of some kind or being able to pay for them. Every market is based on either goods, property or a commodity. Goods (cars, boats, appliances, clothes, etc.), property (houses, buildings, real estate, etc.) and commodities (grain, livestock, minerals, etc.) have value dependent on demand. When demand is down, the value goes down.

Credit is based on the repayment ability of the person, company or government. It's determined by a risk factor. Good risk, then good credit. Bad risk, bad credit rating and then your 'perceived' value drops.

The current economic crisis is being solved by giving to the banks money that's going to be hard to produce, unless it's printed by the government. This will cause inflation, as it will take more money to buy any product, regardless of it's value. The government should be spending money on job creation, which produces taxes and spending on goods, commodities and housing.

This economic crisis isn't over by a long shot, it's just the beginning of the end game for many institutions.

Hang on! The roller coaster ride is about to get rough!

NO BUCS

2008-09-30T07:54:00.000-07:00

I've posted this on my other blogs.

Yes, I'm angry about this 'bailout'!

NO BUCS!
Welcome to the roller -coaster ride of Wall St. No suicides, homicides or bailouts allowed. Please keep your hands and feet inside the car, sticking your neck out is optional. Just as long as it’s not mine.

Remember, that it’s all about your perception of ‘credit‘. None of the ‘money’ on Wall Street is real, it’s all paper tiger trash. All tangible assets will still be there tomorrow. Your house and city won’t disappear overnight.

This ‘financial meltdown’ is being done to keep you from real issues; lost jobs, wage, health care, and pension erosion, immigration and the wars on drugs and terror. All of which have contributed to this credit, mortgage and bank dilemma.

The root causes of this crisis is deregulation by the government.

There is a simple solution to this problem. It’s listed below and will pay for itself.

1) Immediate levy of an 80% tax on all incomes over 10 million per year.
Tax rate to adjust down to 30% per $100,000. These rates to be in effect for the next four years. If you made big bucks, you should pay big bucks, no exceptions.

EXAMPLE: Rush Limbaugh will have to ‘get by’ on about $27 million from the $105 million that he’s paid. Either amount is ‘lottery’ money to the average American.

Big actors will ‘take home’ 4 million out of their usual 20 million movie salary. Tough, but they’ll survive. Sell a yacht or an extra house. Taxes were higher than this in the 1950’s for millionaires.

2) Immediate 10% reduction on all government contracts. No exceptions. ‘No-bid’ contracts to be reviewed for revision and imposition of limitations.

3) Immediate 10% reduction on all elected officials salaries in the government (Executive, House of Representatives and the Senate) Since they can’t do their jobs, they deserve a pay cut.
They’re lucky we can’t fire them outright.

4) Immediate yearly bonus cap for ALL employees, agents, managers or officers of companies, not to exceed 10% of annual salary. No adjustments or exclusions. This to include shares of stock or any other investment instrument.

5) Price gouging fine of 25%, minimum, on all excess profits from market manipulation for any ‘vital necessity’; such as: energy (oil, gas, propane, coal, electricity, etc.), food, health care and products, and clothing. A temporary price cap to be put into place as penalty for a 3-6 month period.

6) 90 Day moratorium on mortgage rates, to be extended as needed, on a monthly basis. This will allow the market to stabilize over the winter, which is a slow time for sales.

7) Minimum 50% equity share in every business that requests assistance from the government. Government to be first to recover investment when asset is liquidated or there is a return on profits.

8) Immediate freeze on stock market. Declare a ‘stock market holiday’ until 6 October for legislation to be enacted, based on proposed actions listed above.

IF no action is taken on a fair and comprehensive restructuring of the financial system, then:

ALL AMERICANS SHOULD STAY HOME ON 7 OCTOBER 2008 TO REMIND THE COMPANIES AND THE GOVERNMENT WHO REALLY RUNS THIS COUNTRY!
IT’S ‘WE THE PEOPLE’!

October 7, 2008, is the 243rd anniversary of the Stamp Act Congress. One of the first attempts to insure the rights of citizens of America. Look it up, read about it, learn our history.

TAKE ACTION TODAY; CALL, EMAIL OR WRITE CONGRESS!

We trust in our government to manage our money and provide for our security. When they don’t, we the people must assert our rights to demand proper service.

The proposal above is not perfect, nor complete. It’s an outline of what needs to be done, without putting the entire burden on the average American.

NO BUCS!
NO BAILOUT for UPPER CLASS SWINDLERS!

Please forward this email to all your friends!
30 September 2008 Thomas L. Segerson

Club Hollywood, the Religion Test

2008-09-26T10:58:00.000-07:00

Nikki Finke loves to shred people in Hollywood.

Big players, moguls, movie stars who have gone astray.

When she picks on a person who's just trying to do her job, it's over the line for me.

See what you think. Check out her blog:

http://www.deadlinehollywooddaily.com/hollywood-gentiles-have-a-lot-to-learn/

In case she doesn't post my comment, it's included here:

Dear Hollywood and Nikki Finke,

Thanks for this important and earthshaking post.
All the major players, liars and thieves out there and you pick on this poor, young soul. A person just trying to do her job in the best way possible.

I would like to see a public apology by you Nikki Finke to Michelle. A private one would be in order also, but I don't expect miracles from you.

I'm sure your 'insiders' could easily get you in touch with her. Take her to lunch. Do the right thing.

Life is difficult enough, without you beating up on someone like this.

Try to be inclusive, this exclusive club of Hollywood is only being self-defeating by supporting this sort of thing.

Those of us in the 'fly-over states' are not as dumb as you think.

http://www.kabbalah.com/roshhashanah_2008

When you celebrate the New Year, try to remember the reasons we all need to work harder at understanding each other.

You ain't helping the problem.

Life's Rollercoaster

2008-09-24T07:39:00.000-07:00

It aggravates me no end. I WANT to post everyday, but you know, life gets in the way. Hmm, some blogger country singer could make a song out of that line.

The past week has been full of non-events, but lots of work. My father's building a new house, instead of remodeling one....so I'm digging out all the lumber and building materials on the farm for this new project. He's a tough one, works most people right into the ground, even at his age.

I just spent the past two days welding up the trailer that he almost destroyed hauling concrete block. It's a good thing that he's got more than one trailer. I'm usually fixing one, while he's out bending the usable one.

I'd rather be working on one of the car projects, like my '65 Baja Bug. Plan on doing a blog on doing 'downhome' custom work. How you too, can have a custom ride, without the big expense of taking it to the local bodyshop.

One of my monthly projects is sending out the bill to my former company, O'Neil & Associates, Inc. of Dayton, Ohio. We parted ways over seven years ago and they still haven't paid the court judgment. Have tried to get a lawyer to take this case, but not too many of them are interested in a court judgment from the Netherlands.

It's one of the reasons that I started a new blog.

http://01wageslave.blogspot.com

I'll be reviewing work conditions, the loss of benefits and healthcare, any issues related to the workplace. Too many people put their faith in their companies, only to find out that the company is only going to wear you out, then throw you out.

Didn't get to the flea market this past week. With all the flack about the Big Bailout on Wall St. I didn't think that too many people would be there. Saved the gas and the time. Maybe this weekend....

It's been a wild rollercoaster ride and it's not over yet...keep your seatbelt fastened until the ride comes to a halt.

You may be paying for everybody on the ride, please have exact change ready.

Cash only, we don't take no credit.

Ten Cents on the Dollar

2008-09-16T13:35:00.000-07:00

Hurricane Ike’s winds swirled up dust, floated crumpled papers through the near empty parking lot. Saturday’s flea market was about shut down, tables covered with tarps, people throwing junk they couldn’t sell into the dumpster, other treasures reloaded into the trunks of sway-backed cars.

I was standing at camo-man’s table. We were discussing bicycle parts, what they were worth, is there going to be a market for them. Gasoline being five dollars a gallon.

An old man, hunched over with his arms wrapped around a ‘squirrel cage’ fan unit shuffled up to the table. He eased the unit down, put his hand on top of it.

“See you got yourself one of them.” pointed at the older unit that camo-man was using to keep himself and his wife cool in the sweltering heat.

“Yep, lot better than some box fan. What you want for it?”

“Like to get $25 dollars, it cost a lot more…brand new…lookit them wires, ain’t never been hooked up.”

Camo-man is looking the unit over. It’s as clean as the day it came off the factory line. “What voltage is it?”

“She’s 220, that’s why I can’t use her. Cost too much to put 220 in the house. Man wants $150 just to hook it up.”

Camo-man nodded, “Yep, mine’s 110, use it anywhere. Don’t really need it, but I might be able to use it for my wood-burning stove. You take ten for it?”

The old man shook his head, he was anxious. The unit probably cost at least $150 dollars new. I’ve had to work on more than one of them myself. The old man looks at me, “You interested?”

I shook my head, “We’ve got about eight of them on a shelf down in the barn.”

His eyes were full of doubt, “Yeah…?”

“My old man remodels houses, keeps everything. I’ve got rid of all the old heating units, took ‘em to the scrap yard in the past year, kept the fans. Almost always they’re still good. Never know when you might need one.” He nods, knowing that I’m out of the game.

Turning to camo-man, “You think you can go twenty on her?”

Camo-man looks over at his wife, she’s not committing or commenting, poker face. This is her man’s deal, she can berate him in private. He shakes his head, “I’ll give you ten for it, know it’s worth more, but I’ve got to be able to turn around and sell it if I can’t use it.”

The old man looks down, shakes his head, “How about a TV, got a nice one, over in the car. Take $45 for it and throw in this here fan.”

“Naw, we’ve just about stopped watching TV. Nothing to see on it.”

The old man looks over at me.

I lean up against a metal support pole, shaking my head, “Stopped watching TV four years ago, gave my set away to a neighbor about three months ago.”

The clouds are closing up, blocking the light, shadows meld into a gray pall over the market.

Camo-man looks the old man in the eye, “I’ll tell you what, give you fifteen for it, but that’s all I can go.”

The old man looks defeated. He knows he’s dealing with his last chance. It might be the only money he makes today. He studies the table, then looks up, “OK, I’ll take it.”

Camo-man pulls out his book of a wallet, drawing out the tattered bills. He hands them across the table to the old man. Camo-man’s wife, behind him, looks with disgust at his back.

I clap Camo-man on the shoulder, “Catch you later, need to get back to the farm.”

He nods, “See you next week?”

“Yeah, tomorrow’s gonna be nothing but rain. I’ll get those bike parts together for you. Take it easy.”

I trudge over to my beat-up old truck. Slide behind the wheel.

Ten cents on the dollar. Is that all things are worth?

It could be worse.

We could all be using hand fans again.

Wet and Not Wild Weekend Ends

2008-09-14T20:26:00.000-07:00

Some people look forward to the weekend. I know that I used to, but things change.

A farm has a magnetic ability. It attracts things. The various barns and buildings down here have accumulations of items that would boggle your mind. Everything from antique wooden crutches to an old fire department ambulance. The usual and unusual farm debris.

Game plan was to get some of the various 'collections' together and take them to the flea market Saturday. Sell what I could, talk with some of the other folks and drive home with an empty truck and a pocket full of cash. Call it 'Spring Cleaning, the Late Version'.

Hurricane Ike kicked into Texas, sending water and economic shock waves throughout the country. I was late getting to the flea market, but I could tell when I pulled in that it was not going to be a good day. The place was empty.

I made the rounds, talking to various vendors. People who sell livestock, used clothes, old books, everyone a specialist. The usually crowded aisles were quiet, no throngs of people, just scattered clumps of families wandering around the tables.

The frumpy woman selling used clothes shook her head. Nothing good about the day. I asked her if there was any particular sizes that she was looking for, what was selling. There's something depressing, end-of-the-line about used clothes. She wants more men's work clothes, in my size. I shook my head, told her that I wore my clothes out, then used the remains for cleaning car parts and farm equipment.

One of the livestock vendors cruised by on his electric cart, paused for a moment. He gave me that, "Where you been?" look. The semi-disgusted one. There are a couple of old animal cages sitting in the barn. I need to fix a hinge on one, put a brace on the other, been meaning to do it for a couple of months. He gets first crack at buying them. After he whirred off down the path, I excused myself. A late start and more people to catch up with.

Need any bicycle parts? There are probably 2,000 pounds of new and used stuff out in the barn. Almost all of it is thirty years old.

I stopped and talked with one of the old men who used to fix and repair bikes. Now he and his wife sell used toys and some bikes in their indoor booth. He didn't have any bikes today. Told me that he was getting out of the business. Too much work for too little profit.

I showed him the bike parts that I brought with me. Good stuff, but he had no use for them. Asked about the man who rented the next stall over. He also kept a few bikes for sale.

The old guy shook his head, "Closed down, going to fix bikes at home and try to sell them from his garage." He pulled out his wallet, gave me the guy's card.

He had another old man in his booth, who spoke up and told me about a guy who was now getting into fixing bikes, just down the road a few miles. Got his info, thanked the man, excused myself again and headed out the door. This was getting grim.

Went over to the tool man. New and used stuff, everything you need for the home or shop. I had three coils of used air hose. He had no use for them, but another vendor who was talking to him wanted to see what they looked like. Took him over to the truck, he inspected the air hose and we negotiated the sale. After we agreed on the price, he fumbled his wallet from his bib overalls, pinched out the bill and handed it to me. We did the "Thanks...I appreciate it. See you later." exchange as is common amongst country folks. He scooped the coils of rubber hose up and walked away.

It had been over three hours and I looked down at the ten dollar bill in my hand. With the dollar that I got from the used clothing lady for a pair of kids boots that I sold her, I had made $11 dollars. You could say that it wasn't worth loading the truck, much less spending the time and gas to make the trip. I got in the truck and drove over to see the camo-man.

He sells surplus military stuff. Knives, targets, old ammo cans. Friendly guy, everyone knows him. They stop by to shoot the breeze, catch up on the latest flea market gossip. Everyone talks about the weather, the usual farmer stuff. Now with the elections, add in the spice of politics.

Politics are pretty much a sore subject, with the economy doing its swan dive. Hurricane Ike was giving us some high winds, also pushing up gas prices. As the day wore down, prices keep moving up. Rumor? Fact? Fear? A man from Alabama told me that he had seen $5.99 per gallon at a station. Another just in from town said that it was up to $5.11 at one of the discount stations. There were no happy campers.

The forecast for the rest of the night was rain, high winds and possible tornadoes. We turned eyes toward the sky when gusts would knock things over on the sale tables. Spooky weather, odd clouds.

The lady across the aisle was selling DVDs and music CDs. I looked over her wares and made my big purchase of the day. Since there's no TV in the house, I watch a lot of movies. An old classic caught my eye, "The Last Time I Saw Paris". Something about it stuck in my head. I looked up and down the table, came back to it. Old movie, 1954, Elizabeth Taylor, Donna Reed, Van Johnson, Roger Moore, Eva Gabor, Walter Pigeon, a cast of great actors...shrink-wrapped in the world's smallest cardboard cover. All for a quarter, that's right, 25 cents American.

I asked the lady if the price was correct. She didn't know, it was her friend's DVD, but it looked right to her. You could tell by the 'period' in front of the 25. I dug a couple of dimes and five pennies out of my pocket, handed it to her and went back over to the camo-man's table with my new treasure.

We discussed bicycle parts. He's into riding now, trying to lose weight. I left a couple of new bike seats and other parts with him. Just to see if he could move them. Never hurts to expand the inventory.

There was nothing else to do. The only traffic was from other vendors, trying to sell their wares in a last ditch effort to make a few bucks, pay for the gas it took to drive to the market.

I headed for the house. It looked like rain and the mood was more down than up.

A tropical depression, an economic depression and general social depression.

The three together don't make for a wild weekend.

One thing about being on the bottom.

You can only go up from here.

Self-Defeating Behaviour

2008-09-14T19:56:00.000-07:00

Ever wonder how much would get done, if you could just ignore all the distractions in life?

People get caught up in issues, causes, current events, most of the time without having the slightest chance of being able to impact these situations. I'm guilty of this more than most people. Other people go on about their lives, I try to 'help', only to step into the deep manure.

Just spent the past couple of days sniping back and forth with a SAG supporter. I think that's what they are, they have one of those anonymous blog poster names.

End result, I'll go back to spending more time on my novel and blogs.

The SAG people will learn the hard way about contract negotiations in this day and age. That's how I did it. Fell on my face more than a few times, didn't enjoy the pain.

It's one of the reasons that I wrote "Going Dutch, Trials of a Wage Slave". Wanted to point out my errors in life, give people a few laughs and hopefully, keep them from making my mistakes.

People don't mind the laughs, but lessons? They usually have to learn those on their own.

Hitting the pavement can hurt. Hard on the face, too.

Bring your own band-aids.

Going Dutch, Trials of a Wage Slave

2008-09-12T23:39:00.000-07:00

I’m getting ready to launch another blog. Like I need more work.

This one will focus on my book, “Going Dutch, Trials of a Wage Slave”.

It will be a couple of days before I launch. Working out the blog name, deciding the layout and contents, etc.

Have been raising hell on Nikki Finke’s blog:
http://www.deadlinehollywooddaily.com

The SAG/AMPTP thing is nothing short of a fiasco. Time to shut Hollywood down until the people who do the work get paid for their efforts.

This country has been allowed to sink into a wage slave mentality. Too many people think that they don't have any say in their work conditions. They are too scared to speak out, afraid to lose their jobs.

Instead, they are slowing losing everything, while they are holding onto a job that could be gone tomorrow.

Those who aren't brave enough to fight for their rights usually have none.

Ike and His Storm

2008-09-12T21:43:00.000-07:00

Ike and Ike, the perfect storm.

Irony is one of nature’s strong points. We’re about to get hammered by a storm named “Ike” and we really need an Ike, as in Eisenhower-type president right now.

You don’t hear anyone talk about him. Probably too honest for most of our current political types to mention.

After all, he warned us of the potential problems with various situations in the world and within our country. I have mentioned in a previous post, his book “Mandate for Change” should be required reading. Catchy title, huh? Almost like a political slogan.

I’ll start my review of the book in the next couple of postings. Expect it to last for a couple of weeks. The parallels with our problems today will shock you.

Then there's that storm out there.

I'm afraid it's going to shock this nation, in more ways than one.

Into The Rain

2008-09-05T15:09:00.000-07:00

Rainy season is just around the corner.

Which will mean more time to write. I don't like doing outside work in the rain, if it can be avoided. I thought I would be outside today, but rain came in, so I'm sorting through my paperwork, getting the house changed over for the cold season, all those things I hate to do.

The rain is leftovers from Hurricane Gustav. It's been pretty funny down here, listening to people try and pronounce 'Gustav'. It doesn't translate well to print, so I'll just leave it to your imagination. Bounce the syllables around a bit, try it with a drawl, slur on it, make it into a couple or even three syllables. Fun, huh!

I've never said that the boredom factor was low, but sometimes you have to make your own entertainment.

Try watching how people react to a sudden rain shower. Most frown, pout, get angry, especially if they don't have a raincoat or umbrella. Very few people smile at it, unless they're a farmer or gardener, needing some water on the crops.

Without the rain, there are no rainbows.

Enjoy them after your local shower.

The Harder You Play, The More You Pay

2008-09-01T20:13:00.000-07:00

Trying to start the month off right. Even if this will be a short (for me) post.

A couple of old items on the agenda, which I WILL take care of in the coming month.

The "You Wanna Be In Movies" Series will get wrapped up. Trying to break down the overly long post that is the one day of shooting on the feature film set. It was a long day, so it's a really long post.

My education into the ways of the blogosphere continue. It's a good thing for the Internet that people can make anonymous comments. If they couldn't, about 80-90% of all blogs would dry up and blow away. Anon commentators remind me of hecklers in a crowd. Always wanting to shout out some usually worthless dreck, but hey, not brave enough to get up on the stage and give their name. Don't even begin to lecture me about 'freedom of speech'. The people who believed in it were brave enough to sign their names to the document, when doing so could have meant their death. Yes, this could mean another blog.

The summer is officially over. Getting the farm ready for winter. Which seems to be coming on rapidly this year. An early winter would not be any surprise, but I would like to have a fall season for once. The past few years fall has lasted about two days and then the cold weather slammed down. That's relative of course. I don't have to deal with three feet of snow any more and when we get three inches of snow on the roads...they close the schools! All of you in the Great White North can go ahead and laugh now.

If you are one of the few people who read this blog, I can report that the pear tree was loaded with fruit this year. Some of the biggest pears I've ever seen. So far, I've got about a dozen five gallon buckets of pears off the tree. It was well worth getting up at 4AM to light a fire and keep the tree from icing up during a late freeze. Pear preserves are already on the shelf, right next to the red plum preserves. Need to get some apple trees planted down here. Pecans will be next, they're starting to fall.

Work, an appropriate topic for the day, considering that it's "Labor Day" in the U.S.A. The irony of which is that only rich people or those who have vacation days usually get to take the day off. OK, I know, most businesses are closed and everyone is having a barbecue, congratulating themselves on having a job.

One thing about national holidays in Europe which the US needs to look into copying. When they have a national holiday, they usually close everything. You can't go to the grocery store, mall, etc. Some restaurants will be open, but that's about it. Unfortunately, the trend has been for Europe to copy us. So now they are trying to work everyone, every day of the week, all year long. So much for enjoying life! Take some time out from the greed.

I will be spending more time on my writing in the coming months. It's not easy, but it certainly is much less stress and strain on my body.

During my life, I played hard, got the lumps, scars, broken bones and aches to prove it. All that fun comes with a bill. Which is not covered by medical insurance.

You can't appreciate pleasure, until you've tasted pain. Whether in your body or brain.

It's a comparison thing.

Not avoidable in life. See your doctor, if pain persists.

He'll write you a prescription.

Take as directed.

I Love Hollywood

2008-08-24T15:42:00.000-07:00

I love Hollywood, really.

I know people out there who are some of the finest human beings on the planet. They have helped me, given me guidance on my work, gone out of their way for me.

It's my hope that they will understand my comments. I'm not trying to be rude or too angry. None of this is personal, although I've made comments about the actions of some of the people involved in the current SAG/AFTRA/AMPTP situation that won't win any awards. So be it.

You probably have done it. Told someone you love how messed up they are. You do it because you care. You want them to see the error of their ways.

The difficult part is finding the diplomatic path to take.

Sometimes I have a difficult time restraining myself in making comments.

Usually, I write out what I'm thinking, look it over, edit it, then put it out to the world.

Even then, it might not come out as proper and polite as it could. Then again, there's nothing like a poke in the nose to get your attention.

Right now, Hollywood is looking at another record-breaking year for the box office. Some of the folks out on the coast are convinced this is due to their great writing, acting, movie-making, etc.

Very few of them will be correct in that self-congratulatory mode.

If the economy weren't in such sorry shape, there might be a vastly different report card for the movie business.

Hollywood made money during the Great Depression. Now, during the Great Recession, they're doing it all over again.

Too bad they think it's because of their movies.

If gasoline were cheaper, more people would be on vacation and doing things outside.

As it is, it's cheaper to take the family or your friend to the movies than it is to feed your face or do almost anything else.

Wake up Hollywood, you're not the center of the universe, except in your own fantasy.

So, please settle the contract talks with SAG.

Write and produce some quality movies.

I love you Hollywood. America loves you. The world loves you.

Now, please get your act together and get the show back on the road.

Time for Rest and Research

2008-08-24T15:12:00.000-07:00

It's been a few days. Didn't think I would be away from the blog for so long a period.

Did some damage to an old injury during the scrap yard run mentioned a couple of posts ago. Kept working around the farm, thinking that it would get better. Instead, I had to take some time off to heal.

While I was in the house, I finished reading President Eisenhower's book, "Mandate for Change". There are a few topics which I will need to research before I comment further on his book. I will say this, too much of what he warned about then, has been ignored now and we are going to pay for it.

Have also spent time on doing research for one of my books. Too many authors sit down and write something, without doing the background work necessary to creating a solid base from which to build their work. It's the other side of writing that I like, the reading of other authors.

Too bad that it doesn't appear to be work to most people.

They think that I'm just goofing off.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

Writing, Photography and Life

2008-08-15T08:31:00.000-07:00

I’m a writing animal. Have written poetry, songs, short stories, novellas, screenplays, novels, everything except a play. That’s on the literary side. I’ve also written operator and repair technical manuals. Proposals for film museums. Now this blog.

After the work I have put in on the dozen screenplays, two novels, one memoir and countless other works, why do I continue to do something that hasn’t really paid yet? I love it!

I’m also a photographer, although you won’t find any of my work posted here. Started at the age of 10, went on to shoot for the high school yearbook and newspaper, shot my first film in high school. That’s film, not video. Later I volunteered as a cameraman at a public access TV station.

Along the way, teachers suggested that I get acting experience. I’ve been on the sets of independent and feature films, both here and in Europe. Sometimes as an observer, others as a background extra. It’s helped me gain perspective and respect for what an actor has to go through to do their job.

For a few years, I was the film commissioner in Dayton, Ohio. It was a great experience and gave me a good look at the political and social games involved in the film industry.

Now I write and shoot videos, work on my multi-volume novel and try to keep all my toys running. Then, there's all the farm work. Never a dull moment on the farm.

All I need now is an agent to promote my stuff.

Scrap, Sweet Dreams and Stardust

2008-08-13T22:54:00.000-07:00

I'm a bit late on doing my Perseid meteor shower update.

Monday was a day that can only be described as beyond hectic. Checked the Internet, ran all over the farm, loaded the dump truck, took it to the scrap yard. Which is 60 miles round trip in a 30 year old truck that rides like a bucking bronco. Believe me, I don't need to go to the gym to get a workout.

For those of you who have never enjoyed a trip to a scrap yard... I can only tell you that it's not worth writing about, but I will.

It used to be pretty boring, drive up, weigh in, dump the scrap, weigh out. Now, it's drive up, "Ve vill see your papers!", show ID to the scale operator, who runs it through the computer. Then drive over to get inspected by the Scrap Yard Inspector; "Where did you get the scrap? What city? Have you and the scrap been separated since you loaded it on the truck? Was anyone seen to approach the scrap? Has anyone offered you scrap today?" I explain that I have a scrap-sniffing dog on the farm and that he has raised his leg in approval, giving his mark of acceptance. It's that stain on the right rear tire.

Mr. Serious Scrap Yard Inspector will not tolerate ANY jocularity or attempts thereof. "Where did you get the truck, what year is it, make and model?" I answer all the pertinent questions. He notes that there are a couple of tires still on the rusty bicycles, mixed in with about 2,000 pounds of clean steel. "I don't like to pay for plastic or rubber tires, next time, cut the tires off." I resist the urge to snap off a "Jawhol, mein fuhrer!" and just nod at him. Give a clown a clipboard and you'll have a full-fledged tyrant by the end of the week. I hope he hasn't seen that "Patton" movie.

After I dumped the scrap, it's back to the interrogation area, uh, scales and office, where I'm weighed out, then get to sign ze papers and give my thumb print to the nice lady. I've been through less security at a major airport. Who knew that junk was a high security item?

Dump trucks ride even worse when they are unloaded, it's their heavy-duty springs. It's kinda like being thrown around by one of those angry rodeo bulls, but it doesn't stop after 8 seconds. I've got the bruises to prove it.

Hard to admit, but I would rather go to the scrap yard than go grocery shopping. Which was next on my list. After a shower to get that manly fragrance of 'Eau du Junk' off my body, it was into the big town. I usually buzz-saw through the grocery. Little old ladies see me bearing down on them and run their carts into neatly stacked boxes of crackers, trying to get out of my way. Busted cardboard and crumbs everywhere.

This attracts the grocery cops, you know, those old geezers who wander from aisle to aisle, looking lost, minutely inspecting jars of phlegm oil and buttered Yak hooves. All the while giving me sidelong glances through their tri-focals.

Just to raise their blood pressure, I'll shove something back on the shelf, take off and whip around a corner on two wheels, with only one hand on the cart. That always gets them foaming at the mouth. By the time they get their Dr. Scholl's in gear, I'm two aisles away.

Once I've accumulated the essentials of life; beer, chips and dog food, I head for the checkout. Where it's ID time again. I think some of these people do this so that they know where all the beer is hidden in the county. I would like to think that the single women are doing it to follow me home, but that's just a fantasy.

Back at my humble abode, I take a break. Pop in a one dollar DVD. A Roger Corman classic, "The Fast and The Furious". Lots of old sports cars being raced on country roads without rollbars. Ralph Nader would have a heart attack. After studying this classic, it's back to work, on my writing this time.

About 1 AM, I head for the sack. Plan on grabbing about a four hour nap, get up, watch the meteor shower, breakfast, do some work until it gets too hot, then nap, do some writing, etc.

I'm dreaming, it's one of those strange dreams, more disjointed than usual, plus I've never noticed it before, but there's a smell.

Now, I've had dreams where people spoke French. Which my high school French teacher told us was a sign that we were learning the language. Which made sense, since I was living in a French-speaking country at the time. I couldn't understand them in the dreams either. I have dreams in color and they have strange sequences of events. The smell thing is new...it gets to be overpowering.

That's when I wake up and realize that it smells like skunk. Now, if I had the air-conditioner running, it might not have been too bad. The windows were all open and a couple of fans were moving the air around in the house. What they were doing is sucking the stench into the house and blowing it right at me. I jumped up, got dressed, grabbed my small, 18 "D" cell flashlight and ran outside.

You don't want to run outside at night in the country without a good flashlight. Mine is about the size of a baseball bat and weighs a little less than a nice, heavy lead pipe. You can use it to drive a golf ball a quarter of a mile. It's got a beam on it that's good for signalling UFOs and at close distances will fry bacon or blind a bat. Handy, but not overkill.

Unfortunately, it's pretty much useless against a skunk. Who can spray you from a distance, then take off for the creek. While you smell like, well, skunk piss. There is no cologne equivalent. It makes "Eau du Junk" smell like a bracing, manly fragrance.

I was lucky, the skunk had hosed down my dogs and taken off. The dogs wanted me to appreciate their new-found odor, but I declined and headed for my truck. Might as well kick back and watch the meteor shower. It was almost 4AM anyway. All that stardust, flaming across the sky. I was so tired, I didn't think to make a wish.

Even so, the Perseid meteor shower was pretty good this year. I didn't get to use the method that I wrote about earlier, due to lack of time. Still, it was a good show from the truck interior. Just before the false dawn, I nodded off, woke up after about an hour and went into the house. Which still stunk of skunk.

I turned the fans around, so they would blow the aroma outside. Then I wandered back out to the dogs. Who looked at me, as if I didn't know what I was doing.

They were right.

I went back into the house and got their breakfast. Mine could wait.

There's something about skunk that just kills the taste buds, much less the desire to eat.

Now that's an idea!

The skunk diet.

Also good for keeping you wide awake.

Not sold in stores.

Mandate for Change by Dwight D. Eisenhower

2008-08-09T05:37:00.000-07:00

Some time back I mentioned that I would try and pick an 'author of the week'. It's not worked out as I planned. I usually read a book a week, sometimes two or three.

At this time I'm reading "Mandate for Change" by President Dwight D. Eisenhower. My copy is the Signet edition, which is the paperback version. Doubleday & Company, Inc. printed the hardcover version. Copyright 1963, this copy is a first edition, printed in 1965. This book covers the first four years of his presidency and the events leading up to his running for office.

This book should be required reading for all Americans who want to vote this year. It should be taught in all high schools. President Eisenhower reviews his political career, starting from after World War II.

He explains how he came to chose a political party, since he had been apolitical while serving in the military. His coverage of the important diplomatic, economic, scientific and political issues of the time still ring true today. We are still grappling with the problems of Korea, China, Russia, atomic power, the economy and worldwide warfare. At home, we can't seem to agree on anything and almost nothing is getting done by our government.

What strikes me about this book is President Eisenhower's commitment to not only America, but to the image it projects in the rest of the world. His concern about being strong, but compassionate in his dealings with other countries.

I'll get specific in later postings. At this point, all I will say is that he doesn't sound like any current Republican.

Time For A Meteor Shower!

2008-08-08T21:42:00.000-07:00

Oh yeah, it's that time of year again. Perseid meteor shower time.

For those of us who are fortunate enough to live out in the country, it's an opportunity to watch a great light show. You can still see some of them from town, but tall buildings and light scatter will lower the number of meteors that will be visible to you.

Look Northeast, anytime after midnight. You'll see meteors all night, up until dawn. The best days this year will be around the 12th of August. Just before dawn on the 12th is supposed to be the best time.

I'll probably park the pickup truck out in the field, put a 4x8 foot piece of plywood in it and block it up at an angle. Put down a layer of foam (or an air mattress), then toss a sleeping bag on top of it. This keeps me off the ground (which will get damp and cold, even in the summer) and it's much more comfortable than lying in a lawn chair. Bring along your favorite refreshing beverage and settle back. This can easily turn into an all night thing, but it's worth it!

Just remember that any fires, lights, etc. will ruin your night vision and cut down on your ability to see the meteors.

A few years back, there were numerous fireballs that came in. When they exploded they cast shadows! An impressive sight in the middle of the night.

If you can talk your favorite squeeze into doing this, it just might be a 'night to remember'!

Schedules and How Not to Keep Them

2008-08-05T22:11:00.000-07:00

I was doing fine. Everything planned out for this week.

Got up this morning and my arm let know that it was taking the day off. Nothing like an old injury to throw the day/week schedule out of whack.

Just spent the past two hours writing what I thought would be the final chapter? Episode? For the "You Wanna Be In Movies" series.

It's at 1800 words and a bit too long for a blog post. Especially since I'm only half-way through the day we spent on the movie set.

At this rate, I could break it down and make it into a TV series.

OK, maybe not a good idea, considering.

IF I work 22 hours each day, for the rest of the week, I'll be caught up to the first of the month.

Then I'll only be 9 days behind on my work.

DEATH, World's Biggest Seller!

2008-08-01T21:41:00.000-07:00

You want in on a little secret?

Invest in death.

That's right, you can't lose. It's always a money-making proposition. No matter what form you choose. Let's look at your options!

War
A perennial favorite! Thousands of years of excellent return on investment. Billions dead prove that this can't be beat for overall cost-effective management. Ask a politician, military leader or defense contractor today about investment opportunities!

Entertainment
Can't bring yourself to face the real deal? That's OK! We can pretend, just like kids playing 'grownup'. Books, TV, movies, video games, you name it, we got it! Death in a thousand ways, performed in slow motion, multi-angle, digitally enhanced, anywhere on earth or in space. There's no limit!

Sports
It's the next best thing to warfare! Plot, plan, execute your strategy. Win at all costs! Drugs? Cheating? It's all expected, as long as it's not detected by the 'officials'. Pay-offs not included.

Economic
That's right, the one most people never consider. That slow, excruciating crush of fiscal collapse. Watching as every last penny is squeezed to keep a roof overhead and food in the mouth. As seen on TV!

Environmental
Conspicuous consumption? Can't get enough of it? You gotta have something to put in them landfills! Why worry about killing off the planet, you won't be around to clean up the mess anyway! Leave it for the next generation, the lazy slackers!

That's just the tip of the iceberg! Ask the people on the "Titanic" about that!

It's the one thing that everyone has to deal with, so let's make money on it!

Death.

It's not funny, but it sure is final!

Give your money to someone else today.

After all, you can't take it with you!

Not To Be Morbid OR Profound

2008-08-01T20:56:00.000-07:00

Yes, the last post was probably too serious for many people.

Against the backdrop of the inane world that is usually bantered about on the blogs, why not slap some people back to reality?

I've been reading about paparazzi, stupid politicians (all of them), lazy union members, thieving businesses, you name it, the blogs are full of it.

So, what's being done?

Nothing more than a lot of posturing and mouthing. Not too much action, as in real world, down in the dirt, get it done.

That would take work and commitment.

Too many want to shirk and get paid.

No matter how bad things are, just smile.

Knowing that it's worse somewhere else, for someone else.

Your Last Day

2008-08-01T20:37:00.000-07:00

Your last day.

Think about it.

Yeah, I know. You're too busy. Got other things on your mind. Important stuff. Like what color to paint the kitchen or which new video game to buy.

It'll be around before you know it. Most of you won't see it coming. The majority will be horrified to think about it, much less plan for it.You really should think about it. Put it into perspective. Give yourself a chance to reflect on what you've done. More importantly, what you've blown off and NOT done.

Depending on your life, you'll get warnings. Some won't get as many as others. You might not get any warning at all. Those little incidents, where you barely escape having your life end.

Kind of like slicing an apple, the knife close enough to take off your fingertip, but just at the right distance to cut the apple into wedges.

A friend sitting next to you gets killed in a car wreck and you walk away with a couple of minor scratches. One of those close calls, where the breath of death tickles your neck, but extinguishes another life.

You live long enough, you'll know what I'm talking about.

You see enough death, you'll know what I mean.

It will make you question how people can continue to be arrogant and ignorant about the current situation in the world.

How people can discount the lives of people they don't know, because they aren't the same as them. Too many people devalue others, not knowing that they then devalue themselves. We all do it to a certain degree.

You want to scare someone? Laugh at them when they threaten you. It upsets their perception of being empowered. It will bother them that you show no fear.

When you face your final moment, then you will find out just how much truth was in your life.

A false life ends in fear.

Your time will come. Don't rush it. Keep going down the road, even after you've taken a wrong turn and had to backtrack. We all do it.

When you come to the end of your road, you'll want to be able to look back down the track and laugh at the great ride that you had.

It's all about being true to yourself.

Buried by Work

2008-07-30T11:18:00.000-07:00

I thought that I could keep up the blog and get work done on the farm. Didn't happen.

The past few weeks have blown by, like they weren't anything more than leaves in the wind.

Since the heat is now stratospheric, I'll be spending more time at the keyboard. I can only work a couple of hours, maybe four at the most, in the early morning. Then it's too hot and humid, with the heat index easily over 100F. I've seen air temperatures over 103F, in the shop, in the shade. Yes, I know that it's hotter in the desert. Here, it's the humidity that can kill you.

I've been expecting an earthquake down here, but LA got one before us. Glad to hear that it wasn't serious. You know what they say about earthquakes.

It's usually really hot before one hits.

We had one in Ohio about thirty years ago, a very mild one. I would rather not repeat the experience, thanks.

Back to the novel for me.

Outrunning the Avalanche

2008-07-11T06:59:00.000-07:00

This is like downhill skiing, in front of an avalanche.

The faster I go, the closer the towering wall of snow draws to me.

Have a couple of more posts to do on the "You Wanna Be In Movies" series. but who's making movies right now? Only the independents. Most of Hollywood is shut down due to the SAG/AMPTP fiasco.

Plenty of work to do on the farm. It's only hot as hell with humidity approaching sauna levels. Work for about an hour and I'm soaking wet. Great way to lose weigh.

Still, I love it! Think of all those hours I could be sitting in traffic out in LA or riding the subway and NOT writing...rather be writing than riding. Especially with the speed limits we have.

If we go back to 55MPH, I'm gonna have to fix my old VW Baja Bug. It's got a top speed of about 85MPH and it takes all day to get there.

I'll be back yet this week.

If I can stay away from Nikki Finke's blog.

Contract News of the Future

2008-07-11T06:52:00.000-07:00

CONTRACT NEWS OF THE FUTURE

DEADLINE-HOLLYWOOD-GHOST-TOWN

24 JULY 2017

In yet another advance for creatives planet-wide, after years of ‘New Media’ study, the AMPTP announced their last, best, final ultimatum to the Creatives Guilds Alliance. The CGA, composed of reps from the WGA, SAG, IASTE, DGA and AFTRA, were gifted at the confab with a 55 gallon drum of Kentucky jelly, to be liberally shared among the members.

With the contract due to run out on 31 July 2017, AMPTP spokesdevil Santa Spawn commented, "This is a back-breaking opportunity for these unworthy creatives. In the darkness of our hearts we have decided to give up our claims on all of their children, only demanding their first-born. Further, we will now increase their already bountiful rations to include bread with the recycled sewer water we now provide them.

Asked for comments, at their idyllic island retreat on Alcatraz, a lone dissenter demanded to ask a question. He was immediately shot and run through the Ferti-Loamer machine.

When questioned, Santa Spawn admitted the incident, "It’s sad, but we must keep the creatives isolated from society, rather than chance that they infect the loyal, orderly, working drones. After all, once they reach 27, 28 years old, they’re over the hill and really only good for plant food. A bit acidic though, I might add."

A creatives bystander, shook his head and remarked, "He knew better, they told us they would review the New Media provisions back in 2008. Don’t people realize this stuff takes time?"

Santa Spawn smiled and slapped him on the back, "Sheeply, you’re great! We’re still working on that DVD formula from back in the ‘80s and hope to have it figured out by the next contract."

Rumors that Santa Spawn danced off singing "My North Pole Is Gonna Be In Your South Hole" could not be confirmed.

Nikki Finke, Attractions and Distractions

2008-07-02T08:57:00.000-07:00

It's been a typical week and then again, it hasn't been typical at all.

Get some hours on the computer, writing. Unending work up at the shop, too many projects to list. Try to keep up with cutting the grass, which is growing like crazy, due to the heat and all the rain.

I've been sending writing work out to different agents, production companies and whoever else I think might be interested. Doing the hardest job of being a writer, self-promotion. Which can seem to take forever. Then there's this blog.

The SAG/AFTRA/AMPTP dust-up has grabbed my attention. If you have read my book and I honestly don't expect anyone to claim that they have, you would know that I've got more than a little background in the union/labor contract/negotiating arena.

Nikki Finke writes a blog on all the Biz news in Hollywood; http://www.deadlinehollywooddaily.com

She does a great job. It doesn't mean that I always agree with her. The fun part is reading comments by other people who follow her work. Sometimes, I have to shake my head. Ignorance and arrogance is not confined to the sticks.

My comments probably don't win me any friends, but my experience is that if you expect people to meet your needs and don't do anything to oversee their actions, you can bet on them NOT doing everything as you expect it.

Allow me to qualify that statement. In a group situation, you usually have a common goal. There will be discord, but majority rule usually determines the direction of the group. Which still doesn't mean that the head man or the group assigned to do the bargaining are going to deliver your contract like a hot pizza. In thirty minutes and just the way you ordered it. It will be a committee pizza.

As an individual, if you hire someone to represent you in a negotiation, whether it's a lawyer or an agent, then you have more direct input. You're paying the bill and if you don't get what you're paying for, you should either fire the representative or demand to know why they have not done the job. Maybe both, if they get paid and still don't deliver. Be polite and try not to rant when you terminate the contract.

After all these years, I can't believe that people still think that if they let things go, without making any effort to advance their agenda, it doesn't matter who represents you, those people are somehow going to do what's in YOUR best interest. They are only going to listen to the people who bend their ear.

You better be ready, willing and able to stand up for yourself. Or be ready to get shipped down the river.

Start building that life raft now.

Unions, Contracts and Con Jobs

2008-07-01T12:47:00.000-07:00

I'm spending way too much time reading about the SAG/AMPTP contract situation.

It would be great, if someone had a plan to end the mess that's going on in Hollywood, but...

In my humble opinion, SAG is not using it's members to get the word out. I don't know what individual SAG members are doing to build up support from the marketplace, otherwise known as the TV and Film audience. It's pretty obvious that major stars haven't done too much, if they have, it's not showing up on major media coverage.

AMPTP is doing the least work with the most results. I read their press release and it's a very good job of placing all the issues and the resulting slowdown in movie production on other people. We all know that the good-hearted people running the studios and corporations would never do anything to crush the employees.

Maybe I'm being too polite about all of this, but I can't get into rant mode.

If you are dumb enough to believe everything that is advertised, then you're probably still waiting for E.T. to come back and visit.

Wanna buy a bridge?

Why I Love Hollywood

2008-06-29T09:53:00.000-07:00

It's a town of legend.

If you do good work and make the right connections, one day you can see your dream up on the big screen.

The big problem will be getting everyone to buy into what you are trying to accomplish.

Get a few people who want to throw a wrench in the works and you'll have a train wreck.

The evolving SAG/AFTRA/AMPTP contract situation is better than any reality TV show.

If you're reading any of the Hollywood blogs, you can get a whiff of the action that's taking place in Tinseltown. Like watching a bad movie or, if you're involved in that mess, living a nightmare.

It's eaten up a lot of my spare time, so I haven't posted here in a few days.

Will be doing an update later today.

I'll be commenting on the above mentioned contract situation.

Please Hollywood, get it together and go back to making movies.

Right now, it's back to the farm work.

Hollywood Family Feud, SAG vs AFTRA

2008-06-25T00:07:00.000-07:00

I'm on the sidelines when it comes to this mess.

SAG and AFTRA are cutting each other's throat, trying to leverage power with AMPTP.

After the WGA strike, this could be the worst thing that happens this year. If it comes to another strike, then expect things to get very nasty.

Like we need more problems in this country.

Take away the 'bread and circuses' and what will be the results?

I don't even want to speculate.

Time to buy some more books.

You Wanna Be In Movies, Part Seven

2008-06-24T20:18:00.000-07:00

It was still dark when I headed for the movie set. First workday of the week and people on the road, going to their daily toil. Old factories and some new scattered amongst them in the industrial section of Chattanooga. When I cruised up the hill past the gravel pit, you would have thought that there had been an accident.

Security had gone from minimal to maximum overnight. Police cars in the street, stopping everyone. I was checked in, told to park the car in a gravel lot about 300 yards from the set, pulled into the lot and directed to a specific spot by another security guard. Who then told me how to walk down to the set. With an implied, "Don't make any sudden moves, boy, we're watching you." You guys ever work at the airport?

It was frantic ant city on the set. A catering truck parked at the big tent, white-aproned workers unloading hot food and cold drinks. All this activity to make something that never happened appear to be real. Let's not get existential here.

I squeezed into the main tent, dodging crew and caterers to sign in, given another list of instructions, rules and regulations of the movie set. Speed read the laws of the land, while eyeing the food goodies laid out on the nearby tables. The crew was going at it, piling up plates of food and getting hot coffee, tea or chilled caffeine for the morning buzz. My stomach reminded me of my granola in a bag and lukewarm, non-iced tea breakfast at the motel.

I looked back at the fine print of the 'background extras' regulations. There it was, in all it's font and glory, sub-paragraph v, section 9: "The background extras shall starve and watch the cast and crew gorge themselves at the feast tables. There shall be no whining, sniveling or pandering for food. Groveling or other obtuse acts will be treated with disdain. Violators will be flogged and hounded from the set." Thus spake the rulebook.

I noticed that the politician had already worked the crowd and was standing next to one of the tables, trying to balance enough food to feed a third world country on one plate, while filling up a gallon coffee mug with the other. He spotted me watching him, so he YELLED; "Hey dude, come on over and get some of this, it's great!"

Looking around, I noticed that I was the only person in the area, he wasn't talking to the sea of chairs around me. You ever try to duck under one of those folding tables? Those damn extension arms that hold the legs up will hit you in the face every time. Nice welt though, with the imprint, "Made Somewhere Else" emblazoned on my face.

David, the generator man, train expert and Model T driver strode into the tent. He noticed me and came over to the table, "Hey, get something to eat. That's what it's there for. You're gonna have a long day and who knows when we'll stop for lunch."

My protests about the fine print were met with a shake of his head, "Forget it, this cast is so small, it doesn't make any difference. If we had about 400 people here, like we will next week, then they would enforce it. Come on."

He pivoted and headed towards the tables. I looked around at the rest of the background extras, none of whom had budged, more fine-print readers. They watched me closely, waiting to see if lightening would strike or I would be just dragged from the tent. I hadn't seen this much food in one place since coming over on the cruise ship from the old country.

As I loaded up my plate with food that is only available to movie stars, royalty and CEOs, I almost felt guilty. Almost doesn't count for shit. After all this little excursion was costing me money. It wasn't going to put anything into my bank account. In that respect, I figured that I could eat like a pig. The only problem was that I was too nervous and backed off, just eating stuff that wouldn't turn over in the old stomach. Heavy on the fruits, rolls and donuts, tea, a breakfast burrito, no hot sauce.

I had never had a burrito for breakfast, due to my long-standing strike against fast food restaurants and their contrived menus. Halfway through the burrito, I decided that it was a plot to upset the delicate balance of my stomach. Which is renown for it's cast iron ability to withstand rotgut tequila at 8AM, without the benefit of food. A real good reason to never start drinking, much less make it a lifelong habit.

When you wake up with a hangover, you want to do something to make it go away. Aspirin is so boring, just have another drink. After a few years, you'll wake up one day and go, "Damn, am I already 30? or am I 40?" Your entire youth will have passed you by in a blur. If you live that long.

The volume level in the tent flattened as the tension rose suddenly, people nodding towards one corner, some craning their necks to see.The Star had arrived and was doing the greeting the troops thing.

OK, we're fine with that. I respect the man. Got a screenplay parked in my briefcase, sitting right next to me. Come on over here....yes, he's moving this way. NO! Wait...damn, he goes back out the door? flap? opening? of the tent and into the cool, foggy morning.

This gets my hopes up, maybe the female lead will show up in the next few minutes. I ask around the table if anyone has seen her. I didn't come down to see The Star. I just want him to buy my screenplay or the rights to my book. Hire me to do rewrites.

Now, the leading lady, that's a different story. You can never appreciate the true beauty of a woman until you see her face to face. Even if she's about to slap you for that last comment.
So, where was she?

"She's not here." David informed me, between bites into his breakfast.
"What! What the hell are you talking about?" My feelings of betrayal were obvious.
"She's not here, he's the only one, besides a couple of others that came down from the other location."
"I didn't come down here to see a bunch of guys!" I grumbled.
"Yeah, well, that's how it is," he deadpanned, taking a sip of coffee to wash down his sausage biscuit.

Great, how are you supposed to charm a woman when you can't even meet her?

I Can Write, I Have Written, I Will Write On

2008-06-23T08:46:00.000-07:00

Writer's Block.

That infamous malady which afflicts the introspective. Most of the world doesn't have a clue about it, unless they run into a problem with their grocery list.

Those of us who write sometimes have problems with the next sentence, paragraph or thought. There are many remedies relied upon by different authors for this malady.

While reading a copy of "Lew Hunter's Screenwriting 434" book, I thought about the phrase he uses to close emails and with which he embellished the cover of this book; "Write on".

All of which led to an impromptu, off the wall mantra:

I Can Write

I Have Written

I Will Write On

Can be chanted, as needed. Use as directed. Not guaranteed to work in all cases. Some people will have side-effects, such as excess verbiage, non-linear thinking and potty mouth.

See a doctor, if blockage continues.

Remember, only you can put words on the page.

We Are Having FUN, yet...

2008-06-18T07:52:00.000-07:00

Sure, I'm late, you're always on time, right?

The past few days leading up to this full moon tonight have been anything but dull.

Got to bed early Sunday, going to get up real early on Monday and get a good start to the week.

Which worked out OK, except that I overdid it out in the sun. I have a couple of projects that I want to paint this week, since the rains have stopped and the humidity is lower. I dehydrated myself and wound up going back to the house and working on a request for a writing project.

At about supper time, I decided that going to the store would be a good idea. Get all the necessary things, be able to stay at the farm for the rest of the week and just work. Did the mad dash into town, got most of the things that I needed to sustain life on this planet and came home. Pretty exciting, huh?

Read a few pages of "Guns, Germs and Steel" by Jared Diamond. Award winning book, but I've had problems with reading it through. I'll get to that in a later post. Decided to hit the hay earlier than usual and get a really good start on Tuesday.

A couple of ticks found their way into my bed and latched onto me. Let's say that they chose a very intimate part of my anatomy to drill into. The pain woke me up abruptly, just after midnight. Being half asleep, I immediately itched the area and made things worse.

I've had to deal with more ticks, chiggers, fleas, spiders and snakes down here in the past few years than I've seen in all my life, prior to moving here. It almost makes me want to move back to the city. Then I talk with friends of mine who live on farms in other locales and they don't have half the problem that we have around here. I'm convinced it's living in the swampy bottoms of this area.

Since these two ticks had attached themselves on the inside of my thigh, right next to those private parts every man considers to be his jewels, I immediately dug out the first aid stuff. Then spent the next two hours cleaning, disinfecting and taking all the preventive measures that can be taken at home. Most of you out there would go to the doctor or run to the hospital. That's your option, it's not for me. I won't go into how to take care of a tick bite, you can find plenty of info about that on the web. It's the way it heals that's important.

I stayed up until almost 5AM, put hydrogen peroxide on the bites and working on writing, doing research on the Internet. Until I wasn't able to keep going and finally had to head for bed and a nap. No more dogs in the house after this incident.

Tuesday? Tuesday was such a fiasco that it's not even going to be written about. Let's just say that every woman I talked to, it didn't go well. I even managed to make some people mad using email. I stayed at the house and worked on my writing, including the now later than usual next installment for the "You Wanna Be In Movies" series.

Even when I write, I still want more time to write more.

No matter what, I'm going to walking funny for the next couple of days.

I wonder if anyone buys ticks on eBay?

I could make a fortune.

It's NOT On The List

2008-06-15T21:47:00.000-07:00

You ever make a list of things to do?

Recommended by people who 'get things done', for those of us who are constantly getting interrupted by other events.

Had a list made out, sure I was going to mark off each and every one of those items before the end of the weekend rolled around.

Wrote a post for the blog, didn't post it, needs work. Saturday, worked up at the tractor shed, trying to get a project ready to paint. My father shows up with a truckload of appliances. Nice day, sunny day, few clouds, 20% chance of rain.

Except those clouds weren't told about it. After getting the washer and dryer unloaded, I find myself in the middle of a thunderstorm. Rain hammering down on me as we try to wrestle a large refrigerator from the back of one truck onto another, without an appliance dolly. Don't ask.

Drove the truck and the now soaking wet refrigerator into the tractor shed. Parked it to let it dry. The fridge has got to be moved again anyway, so why unload it? Stood in the door and watched the 100% downpour soak everything in sight, including my painting project. Oh well, there's always next week, when it dries out. Which will be about the same time that I dry out.

Mom would never let me play in the rain, but I seem to spend a lot of time working in it.

Then I got a phone call about another project...

Which put everything planned for Sunday on the back burner.

The first thing that I'm going to do on Monday is burn last week's list.

If I can find it.

You Wanna Be In Movies, Part Six

2008-06-11T21:26:00.000-07:00

Tell me that you don't wanna be a star. Tell me all about how you're ready for a life of obscurity. Tell me that deep inside you don't nurture the faintest hope of one day seeing your own smiling face looking down on you from a billboard as you walk down Hollywood Boulevard.

OK, maybe you'd rather be a politician instead and follow in the hallowed footsteps of our great leaders. We are currently a bit short of great leaders. Most of whom have passed from this plane of existence. You can do either act, all you need is drive, ego and maybe a bit of luck.

The one thing that you'll have to do in either case is sell yourself. This might require a bit of soul-searching, if you' re the reflective type or just the willingness to sell your soul, if you're the me-first type.

No problem in either case, just bring plenty of ego. Lots will be used up, if not crushed in some cases, but fans will resupply you with heaping helpings of adoration. Always an ego booster. Did I mention all that free nookie? Ask Bill.

After arriving on the set Sunday afternoon, I began to meet my fellow actors. We eyeballed each other as we sat under the off-white canvas of the large tent, scattered amongst the tables, filling in our paperwork for the casting company. Everyone a bit nervous, an undercurrent of tension vibrated in the tent.

It was a small cast, only 18 of us. Which raised the hopes of everyone. With that limited number, the possibility of being in a scene with one of the stars went up, astronomically. We ranged in age from young college studs and lovely coeds to retired teachers and your dissipated scribe. In general, a cross-section of middle America, Southern style. Which was a good thing that none of us had speaking roles. Since we were in a movie that was supposed to represent a time and place a bit further north, like around Chicago.

Although there were many from the south, a good portion of us had moved back or relocated here from other parts of America. I didn't get to know everyone, so there will be some who won't be covered. My apologies to all concerned.

The retiree from California, the retired teacher from right up the road, but who has travelled the world, the young mother who left her babies at home, but still had that star-struck gleam in her eyes. A young couple, married for just over a year, excited that they were going to be in a film.

A middle-thirties actor, back home after a stint as a struggling actor, but reticent about himself, acting totally bored by the entire ordeal. An ex-military man, who could have made a career of the service, but got out, now working in a hospital. Just the edge of doubt about him, as if he questioned whether he had done the right thing. He always talked about how exciting the military life had been, when it wasn't full of crushing boredom, sitting around the base.

A smattering of college/post-college boys, all unbounded energy and studly attitude. A business yuppie, briefcase, cellphone, trying to be Wall St. while located about 500 miles too far south of the real deal.

The politician, as I dubbed him, who really is a waiter in life at a local restaurant. When he isn't strumming his guitar, crooning for the ladies. Never leave your props behind. Somehow he managed to drag his guitar onto the set. He played it while we got our haircuts. He played it while we ate. He played it standing in the middle of the parking lot. The ladies loved it, the men just wanted to kill him.

So, we have our basic cast of characters. The 'background extras'.
Tomorrow, the stars.

All the world's a stage, as the great bard, William Shakespeare tells us.
Just don't trip up when you walk out upon it.
A pratfall could ruin your makeup.
Not to mention what it'll do to your ego.

Sex, Love, Intercourse? Hexed or Not

2008-06-10T08:57:00.000-07:00

Let's not confuse the issue by discussing it.

I'm going to teach myself how to get the links thing working on this blog, so that I can direct you to the specific news item. I know that it's fairly easy, just hasn't been a priority until now.

While checking the New York Times today, I see that there are two new books out about how married couples decided to have sex every day for a specific number of days.

In reading the article, it's mentioned that married people sometimes don't have sex for weeks and even months! What? You mean they don't do it a couple of times a day?

Now I understand why I'm still single. Too bad that there's no way to explain this to the people who I know around here. They can't understand why I'm not married/divorced/remarried. Which is the status of about 85% of the people in this county. Hey, it's the Bible Belt. If you ain't married, then any sex is sin. If you're married, then it's either OK or just adultery.

Men get married to have sex without the time consuming mating dance, posing and preening that's necessary to snag the available female. Who's going to do all the deciding anyway.

I think women get married for the security. Don't quote me on it, I'm just hazarding an opinion here.

In rereading the article, I noticed that one word was missing. Different sex therapists were interviewed and mentioned important relationships aspects; financial, career, etc. No one mentioned that really scary word; love.

One of the most powerful words in the world and one that's guaranteed to kick start either a tirade of scorn or a paean to the ideal relationship. Ideal relationships don't exist, you have to work at any relationship, no matter what it's based on. The idea being to improve your understanding of each other.

That's what intercourse is about, isn't it? Communication between people.

My own situation has been slightly different than most. An ex-girlfriend got angry at me over a misunderstanding. Which I tried to explain, but she wasn't interested in hearing it.

So, she had her mother put a 'hex' on me. Her mom being a practicing witch and all. She told me that I wouldn't have sex for seven years. Hey, that's what she told me.

I didn't believe it at the time and still don't.

One thing I do know.

Don't ever let a woman cut off a lock of your hair.

You don't even want to know how long it's been for me.

You Can Sleep When You're Dead

2008-06-09T22:20:00.000-07:00

Oh yeah, but to blog, you have to be awake enough to hit the right keys.

I was going to post every day this month. Which doesn't seem to be happening. My fault.

After the great deluge of 2008, when we got about 7 inches of rain in 4 hours, everything has rocketed out of the ground. I've cut the grass more times this year than usual, while letting it grow taller between trimmings. Which I hate, because it gives the snakes a good place to hide.

Snakes love tall grass. When it rains and drives them out of the bottoms and away from the creeks and rivers, they tend to visit those warm, dry places. Like your backyard or mine.

Other than the increased reptile activity, the more I work, the less I seem to sleep. Must have something to do with the the heat and off the charts humidity. Is anyone out there wondering about global warming?

The results? I got into a sleep less, nap more, get less done cycle. Take on jobs that I shouldn't have, get even less done. Don't write as much. Read other peoples' stuff to see how they do their blogs.

I could just claim that it's all research. A large part of it is. Now it's time to apply it.

When is someone going to come up with a human battery pack?

Just plug me in and keep on going. 24 hours a day.

After all, who needs sleep?

Don't lose any sleep over the "You Wanna Be In Movies" series. I'm doing that for you. The next episode will cover some of my fellow actors. Some background on their aspirations.

I know that they had high hopes for the film.

At least it didn't wind up going straight to DVD.

I'll go into what it didn't do later.

The director/writer/leading man is losing sleep over that.

Happens to all of us.