My short vampire story….

Now I know some of you probably think that I’ve been pulling your leg.   But I have written a short vampire story (part of a serial) for Amazon’s Shorts Program.     I signed the paperwork right after Christmas and was told that it would be up on Amazon within a couple of weeks.   So what’s the deal?

I queried Amazon about the timing and have yet to receive a response.    But based on their notice that they’re closed to any more submissions for a while, I’m guessing that they found themselves a little overwhelmed with stories and are running behind schedule.  So I wait, hoping that you’ll bear with me and still be interested in downloading my story whenever Amazon gets around to loading it on their website.    

The title is ‘Survival – The Fall of Post #17’.    I’ve already started the second installment, but got to thinking the other day that I could make this story interactive.    So I’m not going to start the 3rd installment yet.   I’m going to wait and see if I get any comments from readers as to how they’d like to see the story unfold.    Give you, the reader, the chance to say who lives and who dies.    Give you the reader the chance to play god with the characters and plot.

Once ‘Survival’ is up, I’ll post a link on the sidebar.   Until next time, remember to keep your finger on the pulse – but don’t push too hard or you’ll stop the flow.  J/W

Damn those New Year’s resolutions….

I’ve had it!    I tell you I’ll never sign up to one of those god-forsaken resolutions again.   Sit down and rest for a piece while I tell you about one of the most embarrassing moments I’ve experienced in recent memory.    It all started with a stupid resolution to start eating healthier.    In particular, I made the commitment to start eating at least two servings of fruit each day (and for those of you like me – a glass of orange juice doesn’t count).

So every day since we went back to work on the second, I’ve been taking in two helpings of fruit.   At first it was an apple and a banana, but I’ve always had a thing about bananas.    I can’t quite get past my phobia around the small blackish “core” that runs along the axis of the fruit.   It has to do with spiders – but I won’t go into it any further than that.    With that in mind, the other day I decided to break away from the dreaded banana and bring in an orange to supplement my apple.   After all, I have no inherent fears about oranges.

At least I didn’t until then.    Those damn things are just so juicy and squirty.    I was busy at my desk, working feverishly to peel off that armored skin, when my thumb suddenly broke through and plunged into the meat.    A gusher of juice shot straight up into my eyes and started burning the dickens out of me.    In a blind panic, I dropped the orange on my lap and started dabbing both eyes with a napkin.    That’s when I felt the cool, sticky sensation all over my crotch.    Yeah….     I jumped up and nearly fell over.   I was half-blinded, eyes bloodshot and tearing up from the juice as I grabbed a fistful of napkins and pressed them against the fly of my Dockers.    Of course the tear glands got my nose running.    So when my co-workers came running into the cubicle to see what all the commotion was about – they saw a grown man, crying because he had just peed his pants.    A few immediately spun around, trying to afford me some privacy in my embarrassment.    But I still heard their chuckles as they walked away.    I cried out that it wasn’t what they thought – but I don’t think they believed me.

So I say screw the oranges and the apples.   I never had a problem like this with a chocolate bar.   Or at least I didn’t think I had until I saw the back of my pants last night….

On a different matter:  I don’t know if any of you liked my little comedic story behind Carly Simon’s ‘You’re So Vain’ (see my post dated 1/25/08), but if you got a kick out of it and would like me to parody another song – just shoot me a comment with the artist and title.   I’ll get right on it.   I had a lot of fun working the lyrics into the story. 

Until next time, be wary of all things natural – like fruit.   J/W

My next-door neighbors…

I was full of good intentions last week when I planned to go next door over the weekend to lend my neighbor Bill a helping hand.   As most of you know, he’s become increasingly obsessive about restoring the interior woodwork of his house.    I intended to go over and help him out so that he could take a break.   But as the case happens so often, my good intentions fell by the wayside.

To make up for it my wife and I invited Bill and Rena to dinner last night – our treat (I know this surprises a lot of you who know what a tight wad I am).    We headed next door at a little past seven to pick them up, but found only Rena ready to go.    Bill wouldn’t stop working.    The girls passed the time with a glass of wine, while I met up with Bill in one of the upstairs bedrooms.    I found him sanding the wood floors.    Now I’m not talking a drum sander or any other kind of power equipment – I’m talking about down on your knees, back breaking sanding with both hands.    He was trying to do the entire floor (of the room) this way.     For nearly a minute he didn’t even notice me standing in the doorway.    I finally said hello, and when that got no response, I walked over and squatted down next to him.     He still didn’t notice me until he began to sand around my shoes.    Then all of a sudden, he jerked back and looked at me like I was some kind of freak.   For a moment, I think I actually took his breath away.   He didn’t know what to say.   I finally spoke up and after a few seconds of talking to him the way you would a child, he started nodding and said hello.

He carefully set the sanding block to the side, stood up and asked me what I thought of the floor.   To be honest, the floor looked pretty bad.    You can’t really sand an entire floor by hand and expect it to look too good.    Some places were sanded down way too far and some places were barely sanded at all.    I could tell you more, but I didn’t look at the floor that long – I was too busy staring at the open blisters and cuts all over his palms.    The strangest thing is that he didn’t even act like his hands hurt.    He walked me all around the second floor showing off his handy work with the pride normally reserved for new parents.    And even though the floor he was sanding looked like crap – everything else he had done looked great.   It all had that same wonderful luster that the banister down at the foot of the stairs had (where he first cut his hand).

All the while he showed me his progress, I steered him down the stairs with the hope that we’d be able to get him out of the house.     Things were going fine until I made a foolish comment at the bottom of the stairs.    In my defense it was hard not to.     For some reason the finish on the banister at the bottom didn’t look that good now.    I swear that it had the most beautiful finish on it before, but now after seeing what Bill had done upstairs it just didn’t look as nice.    I don’t know how to explain it.    But Bill reacted immediately as soon as I stopped to stare at it.    That’s when I made the mistake of asking what happened. 

My wife and I took Rena to dinner last night.   Bill stayed home.    Well it was more like he pushed us out of his house so that he could get back to it.    I tried, but there was no convincing him otherwise.     I knew that as soon as I saw the look in his eyes.   It was a look of anxiety that almost crossed over into fear.   He shook his head vehemently and said that he couldn’t leave.

But at least Rena got away for a few hours.    By the way she put down the wine, I think she must have needed the getaway just as much as Bill.     I’ll keep you posted on what’s going on next door.    This is actually turning out to be a pretty interesting ordeal.

Until next time, keep mind of the fine line between passion and obsession.   J/W

Tax rebate?

Well it looks like the government is going to try to stimulate the economy by infusing money under the guise of a “tax rebate”.    This “rebate” will fork out $600 for individuals, $1,200 for couples who file jointly ($300 extra for each dependent) and finally $300 for anyone else who didn’t make enough money to have any tax liability.   Smells pretty sweet don’t you think?

Now believe me… when they start handing out checks I’ll be pushing folks to the side as I fight to get to the front of the line, but I have a little problem with Bush calling this a “tax rebate”.    I mean how can it be a tax rebate if we’re giving folks $300 who didn’t have any taxes taken out?    How can it be a “tax rebate” if we’re giving folks more for each dependent, when each dependent lowered their initial tax liability in the first place?   Does this sound a little bit like welfare?

Does anyone think this is really going to help in the long run?   Hey, I’m no different than the next guy – I like money just like everyone else.    But sometime in our life, we have to step up and take responsibility for the mess we’ve gotten ourselves in to.    I could go on and on about how I think we should let the market self-correct.    And yes that would mean that a lot of people would lose their homes and their savings.    But you know what… if they’ve been living beyond their means then maybe they should be brought back down to reality.    Does the government handing out money accomplish this?    I doubt it.

I think it’s time that we stop expecting the government to bend over backwards for us.    We need to take control and responsibility for our own life.    This starts with the basic understanding that if you want something, it’s not an entitlement – you need to work for it.

Yes this cash smells as sweet as a rose.    But lets call it for what it is – a handout to appease the masses who refuse to take accountability for their actions.    Until next time, remember that a rose by any other name is still a rose – unless it happens to be a red carnation.   J/W

I can’t believe it… after all these years

I have to admit that when I was younger, I used to get around.    But hey, everyone got what they wanted.    And I have no regrets.    Whether it was with the wife of one of my close friends or even an undercover policewoman that I dated for a while – we always had fun and then went our separate ways.

But as you know, hearts do get broken – and I guess I broke a few during my younger days.   I just found out recently about one of those chicks.    We hooked up at a party down in Florida.    A friend of mine invited me down to a party on his yacht and while I was adjusting my collar I saw her reflection in the mirror.    She was hot; I was hot, so as you can guess - one thing led to another.    After a steamy night under the covers, we hit the tracks for a little betting the next day.    The ponies were good to me, so I took the winnings and flew her up to Canada to watch an eclipse with me.    It was a wild, free loving couple of weeks.

But I wasn’t in it for the long haul.   As I said, I wasn’t looking for love.    All I wanted was to have some fun.    And she got what she wanted – so the way I looked at it no one got hurt.    Or at least that’s what I thought.Now after all these years I find out she’s been carrying around a torch for me – sipping her coffee while dreaming about what might have been (her words not mine).    To make matters worse, she’s trying to make it sound like I took advantage of her youth and inexperience.    Like she didn’t get anything out of it. But as I said, I didn’t know about any of this until just recently.    I remember her mentioning something about trying to get into music, but never put much thought into it.     That is until I heard this song on the radio.    Right off the bat I knew she was singing about me. I’d like to put this matter to rest once and for all.    Carly, if you read this post – make no mistake, it is about you.    I’m not coming back.   It’s over!    You were lucky that I spent any time with you – you enjoyed it, you know you did so don’t try to deny it.     Now grow up and move on.

Click the image below to order the CD 'Reflections: Carly Simon's Greatest Hits' which includes 'You're So Vain', from Amazon.com

To all you “other” readers of this post, I apologize for getting you caught in the middle of this.   But you know how some chicks are.    Until next time, I hope I didn’t sound too vain.   J/W

Caught peeking at my neighbor Bill last night….

Okay, may be it was a little more than a peek.    I was going around and closing the drapes, as I got ready for bed.   The west window in our second bedroom (all our bedrooms are on the second floor) is right across from the set of double-hungs on Bill’s landing (staircase going up to his second floor).    As I started to draw the drapes, I noticed him working on the banister (this was a little after the 11:00 news).

I don’t’ know exactly why, but I found myself standing there in the dark and staring across the twenty-foot gap between our houses at him.     He was feverishly wiping the oak railing down with a wet rag (I’m guessing either Tung oil or boiled Linseed oil).   And as I watched, I began to see why Rena was a little concerned.   Even from that distance I didn’t think Bill look too good.    I’d been there myself in the past.   You keep working on a project longer than you should.    You start skipping meals as well as sleep.    And from the looks of Bill, I’d say he crossed that threshold a good day or two ago.

Then one of those creepy things happened that always catches you off guard.   As I stood in there in the dark watching, Bill (with his back to me as he worked his way up the flight) suddenly stopped working.    For several seconds he simply froze – bent over with both hands around the wet rag on the railing.    I started to lean toward the window, and that’s when Bill slowly and deliberately turned around and looked right out his double-hung at me.    Or at least that’s what if felt like.    To be honest, I don’t think he could have seen me without a light on in the room.   But it sure gave me a good look at him. 
 

I have to side with Rena that Bill needs to lay off the project for a while.    It looked like he dropped a good ten pounds.    Bill was far from being heavy in the first place, but last night he looked downright thin – too thin to be healthy.     I think I also saw more cuts on his arms and hands (I feel guilty now for taking my tools back and leaving him to work in unsafe conditions).

He stared toward my window long enough to make me realize that I’d been holding my breath, then he turned back around and went right back at it.    I closed the drapes and climbed into bed with my wife.    After a few seconds of staring at the dark ceiling, I rolled toward her and whispered that I was going to go over and help Bill this weekend.

I’ll keep you updated on how this on-going saga plays out.   Until next time, remember that curiosity is a human trait.   If you don’t want neighbors looking in at you then all you have to do is close the drapes.  J/W

Does it really matter what you feed your dog?

According to the television commercials, if you want a healthy and happy pooch then you need to feed your four-legged little one a diet composed of ‘Purina One’, ‘Science Diet’, ‘Iams’ or any of the other high-end dog foods.   Well I’m here to tell you that’s not necessarily the truth.

Over sixteen years ago my wife and I adopted a pooch from the Humane Society while living in Madison, IN.    Over the first fourteen subsequent years, we tried everything to get Pal to eat her food.    She has a sophisticated palate that seemed to demand a different food everyday.    She’d eat just about anything the first night – with gusto I might add, only to snuff her wet, spongy nose at it the second night.    We tried everything: we tried dry, we tried wet, we tried crunchy, we tried chewy morsels – she’d have nothing to do with any of them past the first night.    What were we to do?

Then I saw this great commercial (geared toward the finicky canine eater) for vitamin-rich gravy to pour over dog food.   Yeah you know it…. it worked the first night.    But it got me to thinking.    What about real gravy?    I jumped in the car and headed for the local Kroger.    There were so many selections.     Which would Pal like best?        Beads of sweat trickled down my face as my eyes danced between beef gravy, turkey gravy and chicken gravy.     Finally after a torturous debate, I swallowed hard, determined that I was about to make the right choice… that’s when I saw that there were more than one brand!

All the anxiety and fret over such an important decision was for not.   Pal sucked it down the first night and then turned her nose up to it the second night.    What was with this demon dog!   Was she sent up from the bowels of Hell just to test my faith?  

But still, progress had been made.    My venture into the dark side had begun.   No longer was human food off limits for my pet.    I know that some of you are cursing me right now, but I couldn’t help myself.    My wife and I set out on a quest.    Every night we’d cook up something different to test out on the small one who will remain nameless.    We started with the ever-popular hamburger – 93% lean no less.    Failure.    But we were determined to succeed and never lost sight of the brass ring (symbolized by an empty dog food bowl).

For over a year it was a battle of wits and will.   If Pal had been anything more advanced than the somewhat “slow” but lovable pooch she is, my battle would have been lost.    But in the end, I rose up to seize victory from the very jaws of defeat.    After close to $350 in groceries, my wife and I found that Pal would consistently eat Oscar Myer hotdogs (only if either pan fried or grilled) or breakfast sausage (Bob Evan’s only).    So now we “trick” her into eating her dry food by giving her some of the aforementioned “treats” along with a spirited song and dance routine, whenever she finishes her bowl.

Victory never tasted so sweet.    Before any of you pummel me with remarks about how unhealthy this is for Pal, let me remind you that she’s going on 17 and in incredibly good health according to our Vet.    Now I’m not saying that her health should be attributed to this rather unique diet we settled on – in fact I’d go so far as to say that this diet (or any diet based on any of the high-end brands listed above) has very little to do with her health.   What I haven’t mentioned yet was the amount of love we give our pooch.   That’s the real key to ensuring your pet lives a long a happy life.    Give them the same affection they give to you so freely each night.

In a future post I’ll tell you about the encounter we had with a little girl while walking Pal one night.    Until next time… did I mention the BBQ sauce?   J/W

My next-door neighbors are starting to get a little weird…

First off, I want say that I hope everyone had a nice holiday.   Mine started off pretty good.   The Patriots and Giants won.    Remember that I’m an AFC fan (Colts and Chiefs) and that I thought the Colts and Patriots were probably the two best teams in the NFL.   But I have to admit that the Chargers looked pretty damn good in their win over the Colts.   I was cheering for the Giants (even though I like the “old man” in Green Bay) primarily because of Manning – hey if Peyton can’t go then his little brother Eli might as well.

So anyway, I had a good time over the weekend watching football and college basketball.   But then yesterday I got a call from Rena (of Bill and Rena - my next door neighbors).   In no uncertain terms, she wanted me to come over and collect the tools I lent to Bill.   For those of you new to my blog, he’s been working on restoring the interior woodwork of his house.

When I got there she took me down to the basement.   Remember this is an old house (and not one in that good of shape to boot).    I pulled the chain on the lone hanging light and got a real eye full.   The brick walls on two sides of their basement are bowed and the brick floor isn’t in much better shape.   I stepped over a few puddles and then as I started packing up I asked her what the problem was.    She said that Bill had been working on the house around the clock.    In fact, she said that he called in sick last Thursday and Friday – just to work on the house.   (Personally I don’t have a problem with this).   I asked about him and she said that he finally came to bed just before sun up this morning.

She headed back upstairs by the time I got around to cleaning my table saw.    The saw was actually the only thing that looked like it had been used.     I took the first load back over to my house.    But then as I was picking the rest of my stuff I noticed the door.    That’s what Bill used my saw for.   He put a door on one of the rooms in his basement.    He had a padlock on it so I can’t be sure, but by it’s location I’m guessing it to be the old coal room.   So while my tools collected rust in their musty, old basement – something was probably kept nice and dry.

They’re turning out to be real characters.    I’m going to set up a 'Neighbors' category and list any of my posts that mention them so that you can get the full read on them as this strange relationship continues to bud.

Until next time, for any wives out there who “nag” on the husbands to get things done around the house – be careful of what you wish for.  J/W

Here’s a nice story I received in my email….

HORSES


There is a field with 2 horses in it.  From a distance, each horse looks like any other horse. But if you stop your car, or are walking by, you will notice something quite amazing.  Looking into the eyes of one horse will disclose that he is blind.  His owner has chosen not to have him put down, but has made a good home for him.  This alone is amazing.

If you stand nearby and listen, you will hear the sound of a bell.  Looking around for the source of the sound, you will see that it comes from the smaller horse in the field.

Attached to the horse's halter is a small bell.  It lets the blind friend know where the other horse is, so he can follow.  As you stand and watch these two horses, you'll see that the horse with the bell is always checking on the blind horse, and that the blind horse will listen for the bell and then slowly walk to where the other horse is, trusting that he will not be led astray.


When the horse with the bell returns to the shelter of the barn each evening, it stops occasionally and looks back, making sure that the blind friend isn't too far behind to hear the bell.


Like the owners of these two horses, God does not throw us away just because we are not perfect or because we have problems or challenges.  He watches over us and even brings others into our lives to help us when we are in need.


Sometimes we’re like the blind horse being guided by the little ringing bell of those who God places in our lives.  Other times we’re the guide horse, helping others to find their way...


Good friends are like that... you may not always see them, but you know they are always there.  And remember... be kinder than necessary.  Everyone we meet is fighting some kind of battle.


Author, unknown.   J/W

The sudden fall on the rollercoaster of writing….

A couple of weeks back I asked you to check out my entry into Amazon’s Breakthrough Novel Contest.    The entries that made it past the first cut weren’t supposed to be posted on Amazon’s site until January 15th, so when I found my entry listed just after the start of the new year – I was quite excited.    It was kind of akin to approaching the crest of one of those giant hills on a rollercoaster. 

Then as any of you who were gracious enough to search for my story know, something happened to my entry.   The very day after I asked for your support – my entry was nowhere to be found on Amazon.   Apparently this same situation happened to over a hundred other entrants.     But I was still excited.   I figured that if Amazon took the time to format my entry for their website, then I must have made the initial cut.   I was at the crest of the tracks and ready to fling my arms up in the air and scream with the thrill of adrenalin.

That feeling continued until yesterday.   That’s when I got an email from Amazon thanking me for my entry, while at the same time informing me that I didn’t make the initial cut.    For those of you who aren’t struggling writers or didn’t hear about the contest, the first cut took the pool of entries from 5000 to 1000 (actually 836).   So all things equal – you stood a 1 in 5 chance at making it to the second round.    Now I never expected to win – didn’t figure a “horror” entry could (especially when they didn’t even have a category designated as horror).    But I have to admit that I fully expected to make it past the first cut.    After the initial shock wore off, I became quite embarrassed by my earlier presumption of success.    I apologize to any of you who tried to help me out by going to Amazon in search of my story.    Please know that I appreciate your support.

So as the rollercoaster crested the peak and I looked down, anticipation was displaced by the sobering knowledge that the ride was over.   To all those still alive in the contest – I wish you my best.    We all share a common passion for creating worlds and characters for others to enjoy – in that respect, every individual success is a victory for us all.

Until next time, take consolation in knowing that for another 25 cents you can get right back on the rollercoaster.  J/W