The Writer's Life 8/7 - Preview

There will be an abbreviated session of the floating book shop today, then I'll be off to Jersey to celebrate the 14th birthday of my great niece/godchild Danielle. Meanwhile, here's a preview of the story I've been working on the past week. It's about 95% done. I used a few Italian terms. I'm not sure about the spelling of one, i sciarri, marital arguments. I'll have to ask my sister and oldest niece, Isabel, about it. I changed the title of the piece from Paradise Lost, already taken by John Milton, to Bad Form, mala figura, to use the Italian phrase:

Clarissa and Vinnie exited the theater holding hands. Vinnie’s eyes brightened as he took in the beauty of the summer night, the bustle of the Brooklyn street.

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The Writer's Life 8/6 -

There were two particularly interesting op-ed pieces in today's NY Post. George Marlin focused on the pay of legislators. In Texas it's $7200; in Connecticut $28,000; New Jersey $49,000; New York $79,000 - and they want a raise! And this doesn't even count their perks. An elite class of the corrupt and entitled has been created. Too bad their pay scale wasn't up to the citizens. I'd vote that they receive the national average, which might have many rushing for the exits. Then again, they could always make up the difference in bribes. What a racket!

George Will addressed the dangers of football, a game he dubs a mistake. The average life expectancy for those who play five years in the NFL is less than 60, even lower for offensive linemen, many of whom are in excess of 300 pounds these days. I was an assistant coach at the high school level for six years. The game has become more dangerous than ever, as players are bigger, stronger and faster. There is no effective means of reducing injuries without emasculating the game and reducing fan interest. And I always wonder what effect banning the game would have on our national character. Also, our most aggressive young men would be deprived an outlet that might keep them from questionable behavior off the field. And if football were banned, wouldn't boxing have to be as well? Perhaps what will doom football in the end, at least at the professional level, are lawsuits. There is a class action underway on behalf of those who suffered concussions. Pro sports is all about money. The loss of profits is about the only thing that would endanger the NFL.

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The Writer's Life 8/5 - Bad News

There's a maniac on the loose in our section of Brooklyn. On June 6th a shop keeper was murdered at 7718 5th Av. in Bay Ridge. The creep used a .22 caliber handgun. This past week another at 1877 86th Street met the same fate. Neither victim was robbed. Police are wondering if the similarity in the building numbers is purely coincidental. Today I saw a young man, walking with a friend, who fit the description, sunglasses at the crown of his head. He was looking back and mimicking shooting at someone in the distance, his hand made into a gun. He seemed only stupid. Witnesses described the suspect as disturbed. Here's a sketch of him and a picture of his latest victim:

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The Writer's Life 8/4 -

Carla Neggers has been writing since she was eleven. She has had great success, publishing 60 novels in the romantic mystery genre. Her work has been translated into 24 languages. I just finished Kiss the Moon (1999). Set in rural Vermont, she describes the area convincingly. The characters are believable and interesting. The mystery worked, although the climax did not ring quite true. It's not easy to create something that is plausible and exciting. As for the romance, it's just not my cup of tea. Of course, I understand this is what her fans expect of her. I simply prefer a cut to the chase. The writing is solid. On a scale of five, two-and-a-half. Tami Hoag's A Thin Dark Line remains the best mystery I've sampled. It transcends the genre. Joy Fielding and Daniel Silva are the smoothest writers. I've restricted myself to one book per mystery writer, so I may not have caught the best work of the others.

I dreaded opening the floating book shop today. It was already hot when I walked to the bank at 10 AM. I was sweating and constantly sniffing at my armpits. I sprayed my T-shirt with Febreze before leaving my sister's house at noon. To my surprise and relief, there was a nice breeze blowing along Bay Parkway, so it was quite pleasant under the tree in front of the Chase Bank. Fortunately, Jack was working. I had a bunch of thrillers I knew he would like, all donated by Simon during the week. He bought five, and a couple bought three. But the best part of the day was a chat I had with Jan (Yon), another employee of Chase. He was 14 when his family emigrated from the Soviet Union. They lived in St. Petersburg. I asked if things were as bad as was believed, which was a dumb question given that his family had chosen to leave. On his first day at school at the age of six, he was turned away, as the quota for Jews had been met. His mom is Jewish. She had to go to the school and fudge the paperwork so that he could enter. He also said that his parents, in the 50's and 60's when western music was banned, would somehow record the Beatles and other artists on x-rays, which were called Bone Records. I had never heard of this before. Sadly, he had an uncle who disappeared two days after making a joke about communism at a gathering. The guy was never heard from again. I wonder if the likes of Bill Maher and Roseanne Barr realize how lucky they are to live in a country that allows them to get away with the things they say.

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The Writer's Life 8/3 -

This week I watched a television production of Dr. Zhivago (2002), courtesy of Netflix. It was in two parts, each less than two hours. Based on the novel by Boris Pasternack, one can't help but compare it to David Lean's 1965 film, which won five Oscars. The first is more cinematic, of course, the second more intimate. Which Lara was better, Julie Christie or Kiera Knightley? Christie was so beautiful, her blue eyes so devastating, that she was irresistible. Knightley, in one of her early roles here, displayed the talent that has made her one of the world's best actresses - toss up. And the villain - Rod Steiger vs. Sam Neill? The former was volatile, the latter chose a more reserved sense of menace - toss up. As for the hero.... I was never a fan of Omar Sharif. Hans Matheson, 27 at the time of release, was excellent. Of course, the story and the backdrop, the madness Russia was undergoing, are the stuff writers dream of. Not having read the novel, I don't know which version follows it more closely. As far as I recall, only the endings are considerably different. There is no ambiguity in the latter. I was particularly impressed with one ten-minute stretch where the doctor is forced to serve a revolutionary squad and witnesses harrowing atrocities. The original's score, by Maurice Jarre, was memorable, particularly Lara's Theme. It won the Oscar. I kept hearing it in my head as I watched the remake, which used what seems like Russian folk music, although the score is credited to a paisan, Ludivico Einaudi. Two mournful pieces in the second part perfectly captured the mood, the tragedy Russian was undergoing. The production was also directed by a goombah, Giacomo Campiotti. Hai fatto bene, signore. On a scale of five, four. The folks at IMDb rate it 7.3 out of ten. The original scores eight. Both are more than worthwhile.

When people are panting from the humidity, it usually isn't a good omen for business. Fortunately, that wasn't the case today for the floating book shop. My spirits buoyed as soon as I saw Mrs. Eclectic approach. She didn't disappoint, buying eight books across the genre spectrum. But the best sale of the day was odd. Among the 30 or so books Simon, the 84-year-old vet, donated the other day was one in German that had the word Kampf, as in Hitler's Mein Kampf, in the title. I know it means "struggle." At first I thought I'd have to wait for a fluke occurrence, a German-speaking person to pass, to unload it. Then I remembered Hans, aka Mr. Su Do Ku, who is Swiss. Sure enough, he showed today and is fluent in German. He explained that the title referred to a coming battle, an endgame. Although we've spoken countless times, it was his first purchase. Thank you, sir, and madam, and the other buyers.

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The Writer's Life 8/2 - Stories

How encouraging that so many Americans across the nation stood up for free speech by flocking to Chick-fil-A restaurants yesterday. Former Arkansas governor, current talk show host, Mike Huckabee suggested a national appreciation day. Kudos, although I suspect people would have have patronized the franchise spontaneously. I know I would have were there one in Brooklyn. The owner stands by his convictions, so steadfast in his beliefs as to keep the restaurants closed on Sundays, forgoing millions, if not billions in revenue. And it's been so much fun to see how apoplectic some leftists have become in their comments and tweets. They are merciless in their intolerance. Many would forgive violent criminals before they would those with religious conviction. By the way, as per usual in demonstrations by the right - no violence, no arrests, despite the crowds. Here's a pic of one venue:

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The Writer's Life 8/1 - Music

I watched another of the music videotapes I made, this one circa 1996. In fact, there was a clip from Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve featuring Kiss doing I Wanna Rock n Roll All Night  just before the ball fell to usher in 1997. There were some fabulous babes stage side, as there were in a Doobies Brothers reunion broadcast on PBS. They did a smokin' version of Long Train Runnin' that went on a little long for my taste. Chicago appeared on The Tonight Show to promote their reunion tour, and tore it up on 25 or 6 to 4. There were four breakout artists on the tape: Beck doing Devil's Haircut on Leno, No Doubt doing Don't Speak on SNL, and Luscious Jackson doing Naked Eye and Republica doing Ready To Go, both on Late Night with Conan O'Brien, back in the days when I had the stamina to stay up to one-thirty AM just to tape a four minute performance. I'm not sure the latter two bands had any follow up hits, but both of those songs were fine. There were two clips of Elvis Costello, both from Late Show with David Letterman. Costello has always been a daring artist, delving into different forms. He teamed with Burt Bacharach on a standards-like song from an album they did together, and with Debbie Harry and the Jazz Messengers on a wonderful take of Don't You Go Away Mad. At the time, I had become interested in Jazz, and the tape ends with a couple of tracks I no longer find interesting, although I really enjoyed a three-tune set of saxophonist Richard Eliot earlier in the tape. The guy has unbelievable lung capacity. It's amazing his heart didn't give out or his face explode. I looked for a link to Live's performance of Lakini's Juice from SNL on youtube, and was disappointed not to find one. Not only was the performance spectacular, the lighting was ingenious. Instead, here's a link to Republica on Late Night:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=djW8rZgFxaY Enjoy.

Steve, an old buddy who used to trade gold futures at the Exchange, has launched a new venture, a website for people stuck in airports. We actually go back further than our years in the wacky world of commodities. He was a student at John Dewey H.S. when I worked there as an aide in the late '70's. He has been nice enough to give me some free publicity, running ads for the digital versions of A Hitch in Twilight on the site. So, if you're ever stuck in an airport and want something interesting to do while killing time, check out the site:  http://meetattheairport.com/ Good luck, Stevie.

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The Writer's Life 7/31 - Seniors

Some days the floating book shop is more fun than others. Such was the case this afternoon, even though I didn't make a lot of money. A woman introduced herself as Karen and said she'd seen the article about me in the Bay News. Her neighbor had also seen it and wondered if I wanted books he'd attempted to donate to the library and been turned down. I said yes and told her my schedule, which the article had gotten wrong. I had something to look forward to.

Soon Herbie, one of my most faithful regulars, stopped by. I know his taste and knew I didn't have anything for him. Then I spotted Simon, the 84-year-old veteran, who I hadn't seen in a few weeks, walking up East 13th, shopping cart in tow. He had a bunch of books for me. Herbie's eyes spread when he saw Sidney Sheldon's If Tomorrow Comes. He'd seen the film but never read the book. The three of us began discussing movies, a passion we share. Simon has been around since the early days of sound and saw all the early classics in the theater, not on television like Herbie and I. He is particularly fond of Jeanette McDonald and Nelson Eddy and Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. He mentioned that Dick Powell began as a singer, which I hadn't known, and that he introduced I Only Have Eyes for You in the 30's. I know the classic doo wop version by the Flamingos, which came up on the disc I was listening to in the car yesterday on my way home from the golf course. Simon broke into song several times and mentioned his mother told him she'd had him sing Yidishe Mama on the ship that brought them from England to America. He was two-and-a-half at the time and received a big ovation his proud mom claimed. Priceless.

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The Writer's Life 7/30 - Nanny

NYC's head nanny, Mayor Michael Bloomberg, is at it again. He has been on crusades against smoking, trans-fats, soft drinks, and automobiles. He has claimed that banning smoking from restaurants and buildings has saved many lives. I hate smoking, but I am skeptical of the claim. It doesn't seem that less people are smoking. Then again, maybe that's because I live in a neighborhood that is predominantly Russian, and it seems like every Russian above the age of 16 is a smoker. The Mayor's edict against trans-fats seems to have flopped. Gothamites are as portly as ever, if not more so, and McDonalds fries now stink despite being laden with salt. He is trying to ban soft drinks more than 16 ounces, which seems ludicrous when a person can simply buy more than one at a time. His predilection for bicycle lanes at the expense of smooth automobile traffic has riled many more people than it has pleased. Not satisfied with these measures, he now wants hospitals to hide baby formula so that more mothers will breast feed. It's a good thing he doesn't have absolute power at the national level. Who knows how far he would go? His first edict would no doubt be a gun ban, leaving citizens at the mercy of criminals when policemen aren't around, which is almost always. I try not to be an alarmist about the so-called erosion of freedom conservative talk-show hosts rail about, but politicians like Bloomberg make it difficult.

We were back on the golf course after last week's rain-out. I was at the top of my game in all aspects except putting. I shot 87 despite six three-putts. The one putt I made was for birdie, which took a lot of the sting out of the others. My boy Cuz again struggled with his ball-striking except for a few off his classic bombs off the tee. He's had some interesting customers lately in his limousine duties: wildly successful mystery writer Michael Connelly and Annie Jacobsen, author of Area 51, a work of non-fiction that made it to the top of best sellers lists. Connelly has been very generous to him, as was a sheik of an Arab country, who gave him a tip in the currency of his native land, which turned out to be worth $113. A couple of weeks ago his son, Willie, went to a WWE try-out in Iowa, run by Jim Ross, who has done blow by blow from ringside thousands of times, including Wrestlemania. He really liked Willie, who has been doing side shows in the metropolitan area for years. Unfortunately, Willie is small for the Sport of Kings, standing only five-nine and weighing but 170. He was told to keep trying. Good luck, Junior.

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The Writer's Life 7/29 - Chicks

Politicians in certain areas of the country are trying to block new Chick-fil-A restaurants from opening, citing the owner's opposition to gay marriage and belief in traditional marriage of man and woman, as stated in the Bible, a belief held by most of the public, although, according to polls, the margin seems to be shrinking. He is not banning anyone from eating in his venues. He is being penalized for a belief. By this logic, shouldn't all churches, synagogues and mosques that hold this belief be closed? If a person does not like the owner's beliefs, he/she is free to avoid the franchise. Let the market decide which businesses win and lose. This isn't a totalitarian society - at least not yet. Citizens are entitled to their beliefs without fear of government interference. Recently, I said to a friend how absurd the idea of marriage between men seemed. She laughed and said she thought marriage between women was absurd. If there were a Chick-fil-A nearby, I would eat there once a week. If it went public with a stock, I would buy it.

My thanks to the woman who purchased four Sue Grafton thrillers, C, D, F & G in the Kinsey Milhone series. The prolific author is now up to V Is for Vendetta. When she is through with the alphabet, she can use numbers and go on infinitely. I also thank the woman who bought Barbara Taylor Bradford's Power of a Woman. A Russian gentleman broke the streak of chick lit by buying a translation of three Alistair MacLean novels, including The Guns of Navarone. Spasibo, sir. I also reached the payout threshold at Ipsos surveys. Not a bad day.

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The Writer's Life 7/22 - Dream

I had another strange dream last night. For some reason, I was sleeping on a couch in a corner of a warehouse and awoke to a mob hit. The gangsters didn't notice me, so I hid behind the couch and covered myself with an afghan my mom knit for me ages ago, which I still use. The most interesting aspect was the clarity of the moral dilemma. I did not want to witness the killing, which would have me face the choice of doing the right thing by testifying or being a coward. I also feared being discovered and killed. Would I whimper and beg for my life or accept my fate like a man in my last act on earth? I couldn't get back to sleep. It was 2:30. Rather than toss and turn, I laid on the floor and turned on the TV, which is my cure for insomnia. One of the access channels was running Classics Arts Showcase, clips from opera, ballet, Broadway. I don't know that I fell fully asleep, but it helped. The only thing I can figure that triggered the dream is the troubling idea of fate, of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, like those poor folks in the theater in Colorado. For decades I never remembered any of my dreams. In the past few years those I've remembered have been so vivid. Fascinating.

I ran a balance check on my checking account this morning. Sure enough, it had increased significantly. My first social security payment is in the bank. I am now part of the entitlement problem. I know I paid into the system for many years, but I still think the government is foolish for allowing me to begin collecting at such a relatively young age. If not for my complete lack of confidence in the political class, I might have waited until I was 65. My aim is to stockpile in case of financial Armageddon. For the first time since early 2008, my savings account will no longer be shrinking and, if things get really bad, I'll have held onto my IRA funds that much longer. I don't know how long it will be before I am collecting more than I've contributed to the plan. My guess is ten years. Although given the current state of my health it seems a lock, who knows if I'll live that long? In my short story collection A Hitch in Twilight, Network 2015 addresses the problem in the way Alfred Hitchcock or Rod Serling may have. That's less than three years away. I hope it proves to be silly hysteria.

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The Writer's Life 7/27 -

A couple of weeks ago I received a letter from my health care provider, which included a check for $196. One of the facets of ObamaCare is the 80/20 rule. A firm must use 80% of its revenue on customers. It was determined that the company in question allocated only 69%. In a sense, it was fined, forced to make payouts even to those, like me, who had no complaints about coverage. I was happy to have the money, of course, but I expected consequences. Yesterday I received another letter, which informed me the company had applied for a rate increase of 5.3%.

I had a scare this morning from my virus checker. I use Microsoft Security Essentials. It's free and doesn't take up the space on a hard drive that Norton or other software does. It has worked like a charm. I scan every Friday morning. Today the program spotted a Trojan. I wasn't that surprised, as I remember my PC stalling for a moment after clicking on a link, probably from a survey site. It's been just a tad slow ever since. I held my breath as the program worked to remove the virus. It seemed successful, although the machine still seems just a tad slow, but that might be because it's now three years old and has accumulated a lot of debris through constant use. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

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The Writer's Life 7/26 - Hook

I haven't been this hooked by a song in a long time. I heard Gotye's Somebody That I Used to Know for the first time last week. It's a tale of love gone bad, the bitterness after the break up. It appears simplistic musically. In this case, the old adage "less is more" is as true as ever. Of course, it helps to have compelling lyrics. They are not as polished as those of the the writers of American standards, but they are intelligent and poignant. I particularly like the couplet, sung beautifully by the female counterpoint Kimba: "...But I don't want to live that way/Reading into every word you say...." Wow. It sort of reminds me of The Human League's Don't You Want Me, Baby, which I like despite its complete lack of subtlety. I was the daytime bartender at Hedges Cafe when it came out, circa 1980, and the fabulous waitresses were crazy about the song. Somebody... is lethally subtle. It is art. Kudos, young man. Here's a link to a clip of the song done live. It is as close to the recording as a live performance ever gets. That's not necessarily a good thing, although in this case it is. Stevie Ray Vaughan's live work occasionally surpassed his studio tracks. Some nights, a great artist will reach a rare height. That may not occur in a recording session.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6YzGOq42zLk

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The Writer's Life 7/25 -

I caught up to Steven Spielberg's War Horse (2011) last night, courtesy of Netflix. Based on a 1982 novel by Michael Morpurgo, it is solid film-making, but it rarely soars. It is unusually understated for a Spielberg film. It is basically a reworking of Homer's The Odyssey, set during WWI, with a beautiful stallion at the center of the story. One big plus is the avoidance of gore, which probably would not have worked in such a feel-good movie. The deaths of likeable characters occur off-screen. One minus: German characters address each other in English. This is unacceptable in such a big time production, implying that the audience is jingoistic or too dumb or lazy to read subtitles. People at IMDb rated it 7.2 out of ten. I can't decide whether to rate it three or three-and-a-half out of five. The cinematography is beautiful, the characters are easy to root for, and there was a moment when I experienced chills but, overall, I thought it was standard stuff. It was nominated for six Oscars but took home none.

Here's something that will likely have duffers, especially male, eating their heart out: Latanna Stone, ten years old, has qualified for the U.S. Women's Amateur golf championship. She shot 70 in a recent tournament. She is four-feet-ten. The previous youngest qualifier was 12. Here's a pic of the mighty mite:

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The Writer's Life 7/24 -

Baseball writers are proffering their opinion on the Skanks acquisition of Ichiro from the Mariners, the team he spent eleven years with. His once awesome hitting skills seem to be in steep decline. Being a Yankees-hater and a fatalist when it comes to the Bronx Bombers, I predict that the 11-time all-star will be revived, embraced by their front-running fans, and become instrumental in another Bronx championship. Add 30 points to the batting average, ten homers to a slugger's total, and 25% more pitching wins to anyone who dons pinstripes. Phooey!

The NY Post had several superb articles today: Brian Costello profiled Hall of Fame RB Curtis Martin (Patriots, Jets), who revealed that he actually hated football, describing it as a "headache." He used it to stay out of trouble as a youth, and as a means to acquire wealth as a professional. As someone who played and coached at the high school level, I can attest that it is no picnic. I loved game day and film review, but the rest of it was a grind.

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The Writer's Life 7/23 - Sad

I just read about the penalties the NCAA imposed on the Penn St. football program. Wow - four-year probation, no league championship game appearances, no bowl appearances, a cut in scholarships, and the vacating of 111 wins since 1998. I didn't expect that last part. This knocks Joe Paterno from winningest coach in history to twelfth. According to Yahoo, Florida St.'s Bobby Bowden becomes the Division I leader with 377 wins, although Eddie Robinson had 408 at Grambling, which is also considered Division I, so I don't understand the discrepancy. I wonder if an asterisk and explanation will be placed in the record book next to Paterno's name. After all, he did earn those wins legitimately, despite his unacceptable behavior regarding the case. Perhaps this ugly, distressing story will now begin to fade into the background. Of course, the victims will have to cope with demons the rest of their lives. If there is a lesson to be learned, it is to come clean immediately. Eventually, the truth will out. Cover ups always make things infinitely worse. Penn St. students, faculty and alumni must be devastated. It is also a sad day for Italian-Americans, especially those from Brooklyn. One of our own has fallen mightily.

I guess Cuz was intimidated by the forecast, which called for severe thunderstorms during the afternoon. We did not play our Monday round of golf, interrupting the groove we had going the last four weeks. Here in Brooklyn it's 5:46, and we've yet to see rain, although I've heard some rumbles of thunder. Of course, it may be pouring in Queens. I look at it this way - I saved about $40, counting gasoline, and I earned some money at the floating book shop. This past Saturday, Munsie, a woman who has asked my advice about writing several times, donated eight non-fiction books. I've sold all but one of them. Today a woman bought one by Joy Behar (yuck!). A young white girl purchased Growing Up X, a memoir by one of Malcolm X's daughters, and a young black woman bought The DaVinci Hoax. And another young female selected Sue Grafton's J Is for Judgment.. I guess it was ladies day. Thanks.

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The Writer's Life 7/22 -

Here's another troubling sign for America: Last quarter 246,000 were added to the rolls of Social Security Disability. There were only 225,000 jobs created. The government printing press must be working overtime to cover all the outlays.

I just read a recap of the British Open. Australian Adam Scott had a four shot lead with four holes to play, and bogeyed all four closing holes, while old favorite Easy Ernie Els made a birdie down the stretch to steal the storied championship. It must have been gut-wrenching drama. After last Monday's round, I commented how golf can be a cruel mistress. Although Scott is young, talented, rich and handsome, I feel for him. No matter what level one achieves, golf is fiercely psychological. No one can predict what will happen to Scott's game after this. He should use Rory McElroy as an example. The young Irishman, who collapsed in the final round of the 2011 The Masters, rebounded at the very next major, winning the U.S. Open going away. Good luck, Adam.

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The Writer's Life 7/21 - War

I needed a break from the sampling of mystery writers I've been doing the past few years. I was in the mood for serious fare. Among the donations given to me was Adolph Caso's The Straw Obelisk, which I'd never heard of. I balked when I read the jacket and saw that it was an anti-war novel. All reasonable people know that war is the worse thing imaginable. I need something more provocative than that. Fortunately, I told myself not to be so narrow-minded. After all, if I didn't like the book, I could always put it aside, although, anal retentive, I've done this only once in my life. I found Henry James' The Golden Bowl unreadable, its sentences convoluted beyond belief.

Recently, World War II has been rehabbed by staunch liberals like Steven Spielberg (Saving Private Ryan), Tom Brokaw (The Greatest Generation) and Tom Hanks (Band of Brothers), excellent works that focused on the monumental accomplishments of G.I.'s. The Civil War, of course, has always been the ultimate PC war, more so even than The American Revolution. The War on Terror is probably supported by a majority, but not nearly in proportion to the other three. Of course, the Vietnam War is the left's ultimate whipping boy. Very few pundits made the argument that the hardline taken in Korea and Vietnam led to the fall of communism, which almost everyone celebrated. Wars continue to be re-evaluated throughout history. We still don't know whether the Iraq War was a success, and probably won't know for decades, same for Afghanistan, although that one seems hopeless. Civilizations have been forged, evil has been conquered through blood-letting. Reasonable men are left the terrible burden of figuring out when killing is necessary. That's the main theme of my novel of the same name.

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The Writer's Life 7/20 -

What's to be said when a maniac breaks down an emergency door of a theater, hurls a smoke bomb, and opens fire on innocents? The political arguments will rage. The left will demand greater gun control, the right slacker so that an armed citizen might kill or severely wound such a murderer before fatalities climb. I'm in the right's corner, although I doubt an armed citizen would have prevented much, if any, of the deaths in that theater. Then again, who knows? But I do believe that stricter gun laws would result in more incidents like this one. What a blot on humankind. Columbine, now this - maybe there's something in the drinking water in Colorado.

I saw an interesting film last night, courtesy of Netflix. According to IMDb, Take Shelter (2011) had a budget of one million dollars and brought in just above that. A family man, 35, suffers nightmares. Is it the onset of the paranoid schizophrenia his mother began suffering at approximately the same age, or is it a premonition of a storm to end all storms? Michael Shannon and Jessica Chastain turn in first-rate performances as husband and wife. TV stalwarts Kathy Baker and Lisa Gay Hamilton bring their talents to cameos. The pace of the film is slow and it's a tad too long, coming in at about two hours, but the story is absorbing. I think it would appeal especially to fans of M. Night Shyamalan (The Sixth Sense, Unbreakable, Signs), whose career has been in a slide since it peaked with that great story about a little boy who sees dead people. Take Shelter was directed by Jeff Nichols, who has only three films under his belt. I'm interested in seeing more. On a scale of five, three-and-a-half. The folks at IMDb rated it 7.6 out of ten.

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The Writer's Life 7/19 - Procedures

I opened the floating book shop an hour later than usual. As expected, my friend passed her cardiograms with flying colors. Needless to say, she is pissed at her regular doctor's associate, who threw a scare into her without even taking her blood pressure or having enough imagination to discern that a person with a rare neurological disorder is vulnerable to unusual swelling. She underwent the tests so she wouldn't obsess about it, which she tends to do about anything important. It's just another example of how tax-payer money is squandered on unnecessary procedures.

I had a visit from Morty, a retired salesman who recently completed a month of radiation treatment on a growth beneath his jaw. His appetite is returning. He is now able to consume more than Ensure. In fact, he went to the lobby of the apartment building nearby to pick up a flier that had a coupon for a tuna sandwich at Dunkin' Donuts. Finding discounts, saving money, is his passion. I sense he has loads of it stashed away. As he approached he waved a newspaper clipping at me and said: "You thought you'd be able to slip this past me?" It was the article about me from the Bay News.

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