My Jacket

I like my jacket.
It's made out of wool.
"Dyed"
"Spun"
"Handwoven and finished
in the Outer Hebrides of
Scotland"
That's on the label
inside the jacket.
"Harris Tweed"
"Handwoven"
"100% Pure Scottish Wool"
That's there too!
Serial number 923064
"Tailored in the USA"

It's soft, comfortable and warm.
Small check pattern.
Mostly grey, with blue
and some green.
Mostly blue and grey.
It has a rip by the
right hand pocket.
How it got there,
I don't know.
I don't care.
It adds character.
My father liked wool
too.
He said it will keep
you warm, even if it
gets wet.
I like that.
I paid $3 for it at
the Thrift Shop.

A Summer reading opportunity

I've finished a novel and some short stories since my last blog entry. I'd like to share them with you. All you need to do is leave a comment here with your email address and I'll send a link you can click on and read them. It's that simple. Don't worry, no spam. I'm not trying to sell anything. Just want people to read them and give me feedback. I'll list the titles and a brief synopsis and you can choose one or all of them. Thanks.

Wonderland--- a novel set in the near future that questions what it means to be human.

A Broken Heart--- a short story about love and being careful about what you wish for.

John and Sharon--- a short story about enduring love and commitment.

Let me know what you think.
Stay tuned.

Brooklyn Baby

This is the original first two pages from my second book titled..."Lionhearts". Although I liked it quite a lot, I felt it didn't tie in with the rest of the story so well. As a consequence, I edited it out. It's kind of like a mini short story in it's own right, I think. I hope you like it.

The music drifted around the room as Beth Turner hurriedly packed her belongings. The bedroom was in disarray, with boxes and bags of books and clothing scattered throughout.The early morning sunlight filtered through the partially opened curtains, highlighting dust particles in the air. She knew this day was coming and planned her getaway to coincide with him being away.

Him was Peter Channing. Beth's boyfriend for the past two years. They had shared this apartment on W. 70th Street in Manhattan, for almost a year. It was time for her to move on. They had grown apart, she thought. He was gone so often, they had hardly spoken to each other in the last two weeks as it was. Absence was not making the heart grow fonder. On the contrary, she saw things much clearer now and realized their relationship was not working. Her younger sister, Stacy, had invited Beth to live with her until she got on her feet again. She accepted and now was waiting for Stacy and her boyfriend to come by and make the move final.

"You going to take that picture?" asked Stacy, pointing to a rather large photograph of the Grand Canyon on the living room wall.

"I don't think so. It's Peter's and I think he would be upset if I took it." replied Beth.

"So who cares. You've always liked it. I'm just saying he owes you something. Just take it. He can have another made. God Beth, quit being so uptight."

"I don't think so..."

"Ryan... come lift this picture off the wall and put it in the truck, will ya?" Ryan walked up to the picture and started to pick it up.

"Uh, hey, I'm going to need some help over here, you guys. This son of a bitch is heavy."

"Honestly, you're such a weakling, Ryan." Stacy walked up to Ryan to give him a hand. "It's just awkward, that's all."

"Stacy... oh never mind." Beth said, as they hauled the picture out the door and down the hall.


Beth looked around the room for the last time. So many memories. Some good, some bad. It had all started so hopeful and this is how it ends, she thought. Escaping like thieves in the night. She figured she should write a note or something. She at least owed him that.

She sat down at the kitchen table, pen in hand. The late morning summer sun poured through the window, warming her face. But what to say? All she could think to say was, that she was sorry. On a sheet of paper, that she left in the middle of the table, she wrote... 'I'm sorry'. And left it at that.


Here's a hint... the music 'drifting around the room' is Lana Del Rey's "Brooklyn Baby". Check it out. Play it while reading the story for a complete experience.

Stay tuned.

Why I write

 A great quote from Gustave Flaubert---

"It is a delicious thing to write, to be no longer yourself but to move in an entire universe of your own creating. Today, for instance, as man and woman, both lover and mistress, I rode in a forest on an autumn afternoon under the yellow leaves, and I was also the horses, the leaves, the wind, the words my people uttered, even the red sun that made them almost close their love-drowned eyes. When I brood over these marvelous pleasures I have enjoyed, I would be tempted to offer God a prayer of thanks if I knew He could hear me. Praised may He be for not creating me a cotton merchant, a vaudevillian or a wit."

Announcement

As you can see, I have changed the title to my blog to reflect the new direction I will be taking. I have not been writing much on the blog, lately, because I've been writing fiction for the past year. I've written first drafts for two novels. I hope to have them published, eventually. Whether by the traditional route or self publishing, I haven't decided yet.

So with this "new direction", I will be more attentive to creating content for the blog as a way of keeping my creativity going. Look for the usual memoir stories now and again. I've got lots more to share. Also, I intend to share story ideas of fiction works in progress. Maybe even a snippet or two of my novels I've written or am in the middle of writing. Could be exciting. Also I'm thinking of doing reviews of books, movies and music that I've encountered along the way. More excitement. As always, you know the drill, stay tuned!

How I Saved Sears from Bankruptcy

Okay, maybe that's a little hyperbolic, but maybe not. I was in my local Sears store at the mall and as I was walking out, I noticed a spill of some substance that looked suspiciously like a milk shake. Right on the aisle way. Enough was spilled that if you weren't careful, you could easily have slipped on it with disastrous results. Especially considering all the metal and hard wood display equipment around. The resultant lawsuit, I argue, could put Sears over the top into bankruptcy, considering how poorly they've been doing financially lately. As I walked around trying to find an employee to warn them of the situation, I was amazed to find that there seemed to be hardly anyone working there. I counted three sales people working at registers and all of them busy at the moment. I waited patiently until the one was free to let her know of the spill, keeping an eye on the spill so no one would slip on it. She then told me she would call for a manager. I left thinking that I had done my good deed for the day and that maybe I just saved Sears from a fate worse than death-bankruptcy. Or maybe not. Also- was she calling the manager in the store somewhere or was she calling the manager at home?

I saw The Yardbirds at the Grande Ballroom or That's Not Jeff Beck!

Ok it's 1968. Detroit Michigan. It's May 3rd. I'm standing outside the Grande Ballroom ( we pronounced it Grandee ) looking at a playbill for the evenings performance that I had eagerly awaited. The Yardbirds! with special guests The Frost and some other group. But I was there to see The Yardbirds - one of my favorite groups. They were one of my favorite groups because Jeff Beck was their lead guitarist. I thought he was and still do the greatest guitarist around. So as I stood looking at the poster of a man with back lit frizzed out Bob Dylan/Jimi Hendrix hair I thought to myself which Yardbird is that? Well, it wasn't Keith Relf. Nor was it Chris Dreja. Could have been Jim McCarty maybe. Why would they use a picture of the drummer to represent the group though? That's how my mind worked in those younger days. Let's see who's left. Paul Samwell-Smith the bass player. Nah that wasn't him either. That left Jeff Beck. Well that's not Jeff Beck- the nose is all wrong. Hmm.  A side note. You have to understand the era. This was 1968. Even though the computer had been invented there was no Google or You Tube or any kind of instant communication to keep up with the news in the music business. Sure there were magazines about rock and roll but mostly teenybopper stuff. And it was all 3 months behind the actual happenings. So I had no idea of the personnel changes within the group. Anyway I'm in the Ballroom and what a time we had. Smoke, incense, purple haze and strobe lights. Darkened hallways, paisley, bellbottoms- man this was really the 60's wasn't it?  Suddenly The Yardbirds are on stage. Wait there are only 4 of them. What's going on? Yes Keith is still the singer/harmonica player. There's Jim on the drums but Chris is playing the bass? And wait a minute whose that playing guitar? That's not Jeff Beck! No it wasn't at all. But -- oh man I'll tell you what-- whoever it was sure knew how to play guitar! An amazing performance by the group. Although you could tell things were not quite right. Sometimes they looked a little tired to me. Keith sounded a little morose with the in between songs chatter. All in all  I left the building happy but wondering who that new guitarist was. It took some months later but I read that the young man's name was Jimmy Page! Of course later that year saw the birth of The New Yardbirds/ Led Zeppelin group. As much as I love Jeff Beck I have to admit it was Jimmy Page who inspired me to learn to play the guitar and his performance that night was spectacular. Stay Tuned.