Medical Emergency

This household is full of excitement as our favorite band is coming out with five new hits tomorrow, after seemingly disappearing for quite awhile.

I hope I will not be disappearing anytime soon, but a scare, or what they call a scare, I really don’t allow things to scare me but needed to act with the utmost prudence, sent me to the emergency room.

The rumors have been confirmed true. I am just too sweet, or “beyond sweet” in my wife’s words.

The demands of the garden and the vision I have for our small piece of this world, amplified by the time restraints brought by a coming Winter, have kept me working in the physical realm. I have had little time to write, or rather build up the motivation to write.

Now a whole new distraction of investing in what is at this time required to restore my health keeps me listening to various YouTube doctors. And if a doctor is on YouTube you know they must be right.

I will focus on finishing up the short stories and a tale of “Life on the Farm”. The title may be misleading here, but maybe not. I have no new stories growing in my mind. I have to get these out first. My regained memories, not in the news, required no input from outside sources to come to mind, just the healing properties of time and goodwill to all, even to those seeking my destruction.

In my book, as the expression goes, that really creates content of significance for a writer. It is easy to see the evil, but submitting to the good gifts you with understanding.

A Varidesk may benefit my condition.

Thank you for reading.

Do As I Say, Not As I Do

I picked up a few books, real books, hard copy novels from my parent’s estate, as they have passed on.

The authors are names most would recognize. If you asked someone who any of these people are, they would most likely answer; “Don’t they write books or something?”

Amidst all the advice one may come across as a self publishing author, to show not tell, is amongst the most frequent. To develop content, such as a person’s character or back story through some dialogue, action or event; intertwining various threads. How someone reacts in a confrontation can convey much about them and their past.

So I start to read one of these crime novels. I had selected three books from three different recognizable authors. I am over 10% into the first book. Telling is 99% of what I have read so far.

And the repetition of background is just too tedious.

I am sure all that will change. Long storylines, back stories, for an assortment of apparently unrelated characters makes one wonder how these characters will all come together. It grabs your interest as it bores you into a midafternoon stupor guaranteed to ruin any intended nap time.

But these names, and perhaps there are several people contributing to each book, make big money; at least they are renowned for selling lots of books. Once in awhile a movie deal may come along.

How does this stuff make money when far better works, those approaching the level of literature, are completely lost in the crowd? Yes, I have read many a wonderful self published work that actually does show rather than tell. It makes a much more interesting read.

I am not saying best selling novels are not up to adequate standards for a good read and plot development. I am saying that there is far better stuff out there that few will ever see or be exposed to.

How does this happen?

Why have I not received the call, with the job market as it is now?

Actually I did receive a call, from a head hunter looking to fill some positions in Architecture, and responded enthusiastically. As of yet I have not heard back. There were suspicious aspects to the call, such as what sounded to me like canned crowd noises in the background. I had to wonder if someone had an interest in me saying anything that could possibly be construed as a lack of interest in my chosen profession.

There are lots of traps in life. Or you can stretch innocent but not so common experiences into something insidious for a good storyline.

Like being ordered to inspect a job site without a hard hat. Oh sure, I asked five people at the office (I was being outsourced at the time) if I could borrow theirs; “No.” The contractor offered to provide me with one. He was talked down by my boss, and as I am ordered up several stories on a cherry picker to inspect some work, pictures are taken. You have to know that it was not I who was in trouble with OSHA.

One could twist that into quite a tale of intrigue, but you need more for a proper plot.

I should have known better, with that virtual shell game of putting my initials on some work I was going to take over, save file here, save file there and so forth. Perhaps the work that I corrected was not the work they wanted to pin me with.

The intrigue builds. How will the story end?

I should say hello to Scott here. Hello Scott.

So I go into one of the civil buildings downtown last month to pull a permit to raze one of my garages. I speak with a delightful lady. A few moments into our exchange, a city official from the next stall slides over. He Leans in crossing the back of the desk divider. The entire time, more than a few minutes, he is perched at forty-five degrees gawking at me through some not so stylish eyewear.

But there’s more! What a story a vivid imagination could make of all this. Nearly everyone in the office is getting up an slow walking behind her, gathering for little chats and joining in the gawking.

The plot thickens. Forty-five degree man continues to gawk.

These are the kind of events I suffered through that pushed me to create an freedom of information request of my Alderman some years ago under the freedom of information act. I was told no e-mails in his system met the criteria, but have since learned otherwise. It may have been a technicality. After a second FOIR I again received zero e-mails. Not sure what I am going to do about that.

I have to say I have never felt any sense of malice on the part of my alderman or the city in my interactions.

Well, …two months ago I was the only one to get a parking ticket in our alley for parking our vehicle on our property overnight. I asked everyone else along the alley who parks their vehicles in the same way, “Have you ever received a parking ticket for parking on your apron in the alley?” The typical answer was, “No, never.”

So am I going back to work in Architecture, full time, working under the critical eye of another? A critical eye is good if you want to produce quality.

It is sort of like Polish jokes. The south side of Milwaukee was one huge mass of ethnic Poles back in the day. I was a young kinder back then. Many Polish jokes went around implying a lack of skill and understanding on the target groups part. Yet today if you look up any skilled trade, or seek out craftsman of the highest caliber, there is a strong likelihood they will be Polish.

We have a great Polish Fest here in Milwaukee.

So what was with the jokes? The Germans were running everything.

Things are not always as they appear. Standards have become arbitrary in a world of moral relevance. We want to believe we live in a moral and ethical world, but we fail when we mistake position with, even in some cases professional prowess, not to mention the righteousness of a person.

And in the digital age, it can be far worse. I will expound on that point in another blog; No Sanction. I haven’t posted there in awhile but… I’m back.

So the writing grows in prominence as the days grow shorter. I have some YouTube videos I am trying to piece together, one of me demolishing my garage, hard hat and work boots included.

Not too many months ago I had three dreams, yes some dreams I never forget, of hit men being hired to take me out. I even remember back into my mother’s womb. Too much information? Sorry.

They were just dreams of course, but look at all the material I have here to make a great story of mystery, intrigue and victory over all the odds.

Thanks for reading and tolerating my rant.

Analog

How I long for the analog world. A world of the moment where shiny screens do not drive one to false hopes and dreams, is the world I miss. A topic touched on by science fiction, but not too deeply.

Oh yes, evil computers or manipulative villains, human, robot or otherwise, are always foiled in their attempts to make humankind submit to an agenda man is supposedly completely blind to, is a well worn staple.

But what of the unplanned chaos of a world increasingly devoid of direction? A world that forms around an ever changing flow of light with no purpose or meaning, other than the pursuit of its purveyors for an even more exciting light.

Truth is stranger than fiction. …Yes it is.

Well… I had to get my post in this week. I am not reading much these days. Maybe I need to buy some real books? Those e-readers have lost their luster. At least an e-reader screen doesn’t destroy your eyes.

Have you noticed these days that your eye doctor demands you have your retina check? Every visit. You know, the eye drops. They are tracking something.

And do not get me started on LED lights.

The digital world is a very dangerous place in so many ways.

I liked watching “Green Acres” when I was a kid.

Oh how I long for the analog world.

I could never get those typewriters to function at a sufficient level to make use of them. I will have to check the Internet for Typewriter Repair shops.

Thank you for reading.

The light of truth will never lead you astray.

Disaster

I plug in my external hard drive and nothing happens. I see the drive start up and spin, but no window opens, no PIN prompt comes up. I cannot find the device on my computer.  I try several times over; same result.

Most of my writing is consolidated on the drive, though there are other scattered digital sources and hard copy… for most of my writing.

My mind flashes to when I grabbed up an extendible flashlight. You know those with a magnet on one end. I discovered my external hard drive clinging to said magnet and I yanked it free.

Had I wiped the entire drive. And I’m not talking about ‘with a cloth.’

Then my wife and I watched the movie, an Amazon original, “Paterson” and life suddenly comes into alignment. A movie about a man with a boring life and a crazy wife who writes poetry. The life most all married men have. Watch the movie if you want to catch the connection.

Then when everything finally makes sense, I set to one of my tasks, added to the list in response to my apparent loss of files, on that weekly list of things to do: review all digital backups.

A few weeks after I have logged my external hard drive as a digital waste land, I plug in my external hard drive once again, just for giggles and laughs. The prompt for my PIN comes up. I stare in wonderment, contemplating whether this is really happening or not and enter my PIN.

Walla!

It appears all my files are there, and undamaged. The One Cloud feature had come up on my computer, a feature I have noticed since Windows10 came out. Not exactly sure what One Cloud is (possibly a cloud backup), but I considered the possibility it may have had something to do with my uncharacteristically good fortune. Yet I have no recollections of saving anything to that mythical cloud that holds all secrets.

Disaster averted.

Then I think, “Wait a minute.”

Back over a year ago I wrote how this particular device had disappeared for some three months. And when It suddenly appeared in a place I had searched five times over, having completely emptied my computer bag each time, I found myself in dismay. It is not a small device. When I connected it up after its three month absence, I was prompted through my Windows file folder to open the device then enter my PIN.

This is not how I had accessed the device originally, when I first purchased it.

Originally I received a direct prompt for my PIN from the device…as I do now.

There is a story in there somewhere. Truth or fiction, it is hard to say which would be more interesting.

Multi-tasking is out. It is like when they said butter is bad for us but then we all realized we were lied to. Garden, home renovations have held the spotlight for a while. After receiving quotes for various projects, I realized that I can earn nearly a years salary in savings if I could do all that work myself this year.

Still, I am scheduling in the writing, providing some extended focus time.

Almost losing all my easily accessible work I feel prodded to get the stories/books done.

Thanks for reading.

Parents

Both my parents are gone now; within a period of five months. Family dynamics are changing. A deeper understanding of who my parents were here on this earth progresses in their absence. Their powerful influence deeply acknowledged as it wanes. Responsibilities related to what their family of six sons will or will not become fall upon a younger set.

An insight into the human dynamic captivates. Honest observations of such events, a sense of understanding, can only make one a better author.

My dad sold me my mother’s Buick Regal after she passed. It needs new tires.

I was driving the Regal shortly after purchase and punched one of my mother’s Catholic stations on the radio. Religious music is uplifting, consoling, but as the interior of the car began to smell more and more like the inside of a Catholic church I had the sense that I was not alone.

Yes, for a month or so I had to readjust the driver’s car seat every time I got into the Regal. My mother did, or rather does have a sense of humor.

We were visiting my dad everyday these last several months. He hung in there so well, we almost forgot he was dying. Reflections on the family take me away at times. Demands of Spring, namely the garden, and work on my garages that I cannot put off any longer have kept me from writing, even posting on my blogs.

Getting back into a schedule will get me back on track. I must prioritize, delegate my time and be rigid with myself.

My cousin recommended a publisher to me at my dad’s funeral. He is an author himself. I was genuinely moved that he came so far to share with us.

So it is either crank out all my work into the proper format this summer and send it all to a publisher, or hit a writer’s conference and plod ever onward into the world of self publishing.

I have a lot of work, not to mention writing to do, to get in order. Pushing ahead quickly on the keyboard you naturally expect there to be some errors and typos as a result. In my case, if you see any errors or typos in my posts or in any other creative endeavors of mine…

It is my mother’s fault.

Thanks for reading.