​I read with interest an article on my newsfeed written by Lia Sestric, “6 Really Dumb Ways Americans Waste Money.” Lia mentioned overspending on education, purchasing expensive diapers, buying unnecessary baby stuff, betting on lottery tickets, failing to shop for bargains, and insisting on lavish weddings. In my opinion, she wasn’t even close. Here is my list of more ways people waste money:

1. Sending money to someone in Nigeria who claims you inherited a large sum of money. This is a scam, folks.
2. Using your savings to invest in your brother’s or brother-in-law’s stupid ideas. In the case of the brother-in-law, you can’t stand the guy anyway, but you married his sister. Your brother or sister is a different issue. This is a tough one. Never lend money to family -- period. Good luck with this.
3. Enrolling in Trump University. I’m sure you thought this was a god deal. It’s overpriced folks. Go to the local community college.
4. Buying swamp land that might be drained. You don’t see this one much anymore. Here’s a hint; if you can’t see it, don’t buy it.
5. Spending a lot of money to buy a map to the Lost Dutchman's Gold Mine. Think About it; so many maps to the mine have been sold that someone must have found the gold by now.
6. Spending money to claim a prize someone says you won even though you never entered a contest. Another scam, folks.
7. Spending a lot of money on drugs (prescription drugs, over the counter drugs, under the counter drugs, meth, pot, cocaine, heroin, coffee, alcohol, cigarettes, candy, sugar and liquorish). Enough said.
8. Buying bottled water. Tap water is just as good, and it has fluoride for your teeth. The bottles are made of plastic which comes from oil – bad for the landfill and the environment. Just drink tap water and save. You can reuse the old water bottles and fool your snobbish friends.
9. Paying too much for sex. Sex should be free. If you must pay for it, you’re wasting money. Now, “good” sex is something else. That’s going to cost you.
10. Spending too much on pets. Pets shouldn’t cost anything. If you have a dog or cat, yes, it’s expensive. Pets should be free. Forget dogs or cats; cockroaches make great pets and they don’t eat much. They never bark.

 
I hope this helps everyone to cut expenses.

​I may have figured out a way to count the number of stars in the universe. Follow these steps:

1. 1. Section off a portion of the sky about a million square miles. You may have to eyeball this.
2. 2. Count the number of stars in this section. Take your time.
3. 3. Now multiple that number by infinity.

That should give you a rough estimate of the number of stars in the universe. If you have trouble doing this, try it at night.

I read an article on WritersLife.org by Bethany Cadman, “5 Signs You Might Not Be Cut Out to Write”. She listed things like you aren’t enjoying writing, you don’t make an effort, you have more important goals, you resent the time you have to spend writing, and you’re sick of being rejected. I couldn’t agree more.
 I write a blog and often get discouraged. There are many subtle signs that you aren’t cut out to be a blogger. These signs are:
Your family unfriends you on Facebook after your most resent post.
You write a controversial article but get no hate mail or threats.
People who don’t follow you try to unfollow you.
A writing teacher asks to use your blog as an example of poor writing.
Your mother corrects your grammar.
Your spellchecker underlines every other word.
You get in an argument with your spellchecker.
When you try to post something in your blog, your computer asks if you really want to post it.
No one tries to plagiarize your work.
Your friends give you dictionaries as Christmas gifts.
You google your name, and nothing comes up.
Your printer refuses to print anything you write.
All the comments on your posts concern grammar and not the subject.
No one is suing you.
Your significant other doesn’t know what you do for a living.
Your kids won’t invite you to Career Day at school.
Your friends and family are surprised to learn that you’re still alive.
You went on vacation for two weeks and didn’t post anything, and no one noticed.
No one shares your posts.
President Trump isn’t denouncing you publicly.
You don’t like coffee.

​If you notice any of these signs, maybe you should reconsider whether you want to continue writing a blog.
​

It’s that time of year when we take stock (inventory?) of the things we’re thankful for. I’ve eliminated the obvious things that people list every year; family, friends, health, blah, blah, blah. Here’s my list of things I’m thankful for:

1. 1. Farts are colorless. Can you imagine what the world would be like if farts were blue or green? That would take all the guess work out of who farted and let the dog off the hook.
2. 2. Lobsters don’t scream when you cook them (same goes for stepping on bugs). This goes without saying. (There I said it.)
3. 3. Cow can’t fly. Pigeons are bad enough. Thank goodness cows can’t fly.
4. 4. Dinosaurs are extinct. Driving to work every day is enough of a hassle. Thank goodness, we don’t have to dodge dinosaurs too.
5. 5. Fire. I’m not sure who invented or discovered it, but Thanksgiving wouldn’t be the same without fire. We’d have to eat cold turkey. What would a BBQ be without fire? Just a stack of wood or coal.
6. My secret bank-account. I’m glad my wife doesn’t know about my secret bank account. Oh, wait! WTF? Never mind.
7. Breathing is automatic. I’m certainly glad I don’t have to think about breathing. I’m so forgetful lately, I’d forget to breathe.
8. Light bulbs. Because without light bulbs, we’d be in …wait for it… the dark ages.
9. Gravity. Where would we be without gravity? Flung to the far corners of the solar system, I imagine.
10. Control of my anal sphincter. Can you imagine what life would be like if humans had no control of their anal sphincters? It would be shitty for sure. You could say, “That depends.”
11. Beer. Ben Franklin said, “In wine there is wisdom, in beer there is freedom, in water there is bacteria.” Which is why I don’t drink water. I’m thankful that beer is no longer just a breakfast drink.
12. Coffee. The elixir of the gods. I plan to quit drinking coffee as soon as I find a better way to get it down.
13. The thermos. It keeps hot things hot and cold things cold. How does it know?
14. Golf Carts. A golf cart came in handy when my good buddy Ralph had a heart attack in the middle of our golf game. If we didn’t have a golf cart, we would’ve had to drag his body from hole to hole.
15. My brain. I’m thankful my mind is still tack as a sharp.
16. That marijuana is harmless. Thank goodness it haade ne efftive omn me abilly to rite.
17. I’m thankful for air. Can’t live without it.
18. The little light in the refrigerator. It makes things easier to see at night. But where doers it go when the door is closed?
19. Toilet paper. Without it we’d have to newspaper or magazines or even leaves.
20. Chocolate. I love it. Can’t get enough.

Perhaps you have some non-traditional things to be thankful for. Let’s hear them.

​Another boring debate among the Democratic Presidential Candidates is over. I say boring because there’re too many candidates, the debates aren’t competitive and there’re too many debates. The topics are limited by the time allotted. There isn’t enough time for each candidate to fully express their position on various topics. Viewers/voters must wait until the next day to discover the winners and losers. Usually there’re more than one winner and several losers.
 
I have some recommendations on how to improve the debate and gain more public interest (viewers/voters):
​

• Run the debates like an actual competitive event like March Madness. User a bracket like tennis does for Grand Slam Tournaments. Pit the highest rated candidate--based on polls—against the lowest and so on down the line. Run the debate like a real debate with a winner and loser each time. I think a double elimination tournament would work great. The debate could be judged by a panel of experts. Continue until there’s only one winner.  
• Televise only one-on-one debates, maybe two or three per day.
• Limit the number of candidates to 16. That’s the number that fits nicely into a bracket.
• Spread the debates over several days.
• The final winner would be the Democratic nomination for President. Runner up could be the Vice President nomination.

 
This should make the debates more interesting. At least viewers/voters would have more knowledge about each candidate.

​     I'm getting to that point in my life where my memory doesn’t serve me. I make notes to remind myself of everything. I have shopping lists, do lists, passwords and reminders for appointments. I find if I put something in my line of sight, I’ll remember it. To help myself remember or to remind myself of future events, I post notes to remind myself, mark up my calendar and use visual aids. I put them on my computer, refrigerator, and kitchen counters. I even put outgoing mail near the door where I’ll see it as I leave the house.
     The other day I went to buy groceries at our favorite big box store. When I got inside, I realized I forgot my shopping list at home. After berating myself for one minute, I told myself to put on my big boy pants and try to remember everything on the list.
     I decided if I went down every aisle, whenever I saw things that I use, it would remind me to buy it if I needed it. I went down every aisle and loaded up my cart. By time I was done, the cart held twice the amount of groceries that I usually buy. I figured it was all consumable, so no waste, no harm done. I was proud of myself for shopping without my usual list. When I got outside, it hit me; I forgot where I parked.
     My memory is a strange beast. I think now that I’m older, my brain can’t retain any more data. Therefore, it seems to be doing a data dump. It pulls up an old memory file that I haven’t thought about in years. For example, it might pull up a name of someone from high school. Then my brain asks, “Do we need to keep this file?” If I don’t immediately try to contact that person, my brain dumps that memory. It’s lost forever. That leaves a little storage space for a new memory. I’ve learned how to use this to my advantage. Before I fall asleep, I might ask my brain to find the name of a long-lost friend. Bingo, the next morning, my brain shows me the file.
      The other day I forgot what day it was. I thought it was trash day. I got up early and took out the trash. When the trash truck didn’t come, I figured out I was a day early. No sweat, lots of folks take out their trash the night before. I was just early. The problem is that I have done this before.
     My memory was never very good anyway. Many, many years ago, my wife gave me a birthday card. I thought it was funny, so I laughed. She said that she couldn’t do it anymore; she had given me that same card ten years in a row. I often run into a person I haven’t seen for a while and can’t remember their name. I have on a couple of occasions, let the dog out and forgot to let her back in.
     In my experience, there seems to be three types of memory lost: the first is a total loss of memory of names, places or events; the second is a mixed match of memories (not remembering correctly or mixing two separate events together); and finally, false memories (remembering things that never happened – duh).
     What I really hate is remembering things that never happened. For example, I was trying to remember if I took my morning meds and decided that I did. Later, I discovered that I hadn’t taken them. I was remembering something that never happened.
     As we grow older, our memories are often the best things we have. I hate losing them. They say the memory is the second thing to go as you get old. I forgot what the first thing was. I thought I’d better write this blog before I forget.

​I read with interest an item on my newsfeed. “11 Questions to Ask Your Partner Before You Get Married.” It listed things like love, family, debt, values, emotions and other such nonsense. As usual with these lists, they missed some very important questions you should ask your partner before you get married. Here are the other questions that should be asked and answered before getting married:

1. 1. How fast can you field strip an AK47 or M16? The answer to this question is insightful. Whether it’s a deal breaker or not is up to you.
2. 2. Do you know how to make pipe bombs? This is like the question above, however, it isn’t a timed event.
3. 3. What did the voices in your head say about me? It’s important that the voices like you. If they don’t, there will be problems later.
4. 4. Are you terminally ill? This might be a deal breaker. A follow-on question might be, “How much insurance do you have?”
5. Are you legally single? Don’t accept anything but a yes answer. “My divorce is pending,” is not a good answer. “I’m thinking about it.” is even worse.
6. Do you have you have biological children? You probably should answer this question also.
7. Were you ever on America’s Most Wanted or The Hunt with John Walsh? This could be a deal breaker.
8. What cult do you belong to? This is a trick question. If your partner is in a different cult than you, it could be a deal breaker.
9. Is your birth gender the same as your current gender? This may or may not be an issue with you, but it’s good to know.
10. Are you in this country legally? Make him/her show you their green card.
11. Are you an extraterrestrial? No green card in this case. 
12. Do you have your own place or are you living with your parents?
13. Are you a registered sex offender, on parole or a work release program?
14. Do you remember my safe word? This will be important if you take things to the next level.

 
I hope this helps you and your partner to make the big decision.
 

     Today is Veterans Day honoring the current and former members of the U.S. Armed Forces, including those who have died in the pursuit of freedom. This is my tribute to our veterans. When I write “brother” I am including sisters too.
     Were you there with me, brother, with muddy boots when we stormed Normandy and started to push back the Germany Army? Or were you with the 82d Airborne and Patton at the Battle of the Bulge? We liberated Paris. We stood in shook as we saw the survivors of the concentration camps. We saw the ovens and still smell the burning flesh. We saw the destruction of the German cities, many centuries old – the victims of war. We forgave but couldn’t forget. After the war, we helped to rebuild Europe.
     Were you there with me, brother, when the Japanese surprised us and bombed Pearl Harbor without a declaration of war? Maybe you were there when Bataan fell, and the Japanese bottled us up in the tunnels of Corregidor. We who survived made the Bataan Death March. We fought back at the battles of the Coral Sea, Midway and Guadalcanal. You walked with me and Mac in muddy boots as we leap-frogged across the South Pacific to push the Japanese back and finally returned to the Philippines. We are so few still living. We were the greatest American generation. Those who survived the war came home and built and rebuilt the United States industries to make the USA the greatest country in the world – a world superpower. We made the mold, set the standard and inspired future generations. Soon we will be gone but never forgotten.
     Were you there with me, brother, at Pusan when we stopped the North Koreans and held the perimeter? We held the line to buy time for Mac to organize a counterattack. Or maybe you came ashore at Inchon in an amphibious landing that turned the tide of the war and turned back the communists? Then we watched the massive Chinese intervention into the Korean War and fought a strategic withdraw. We fought at Bloody Ridge, Heartbreak Ridge and Old Baldy. We were the "The Chosin Few” or, as we called ourselves, “The Frozen Chosin.” We have been there ever since to protect the South Koreans.
     Were you there with me, brother, when we went to fight in a country we didn’t know to fight a war we didn’t start and didn’t want. We wadded through rice paddies and walked in elephant grass. We were in the Delta when the monsoon struck and soaked us until we looked like drowned rats. We fought at Khe San, in Hue during the Tet Offensive, and on Hamburger Hill. We felt the earth tremble during Arclight strikes by B-52 Stratofortresses, or when the artillery answered a call for fire support or when Hueys airlifted us into battle or for a medevac. We marveled when Spooky –Puff the Magic Dragon – delivered ordinance on Charlie, or when artillery flares lit up the night or when ice cream, still cold, made it to the field. Even now, on a clear day when the wind is right, we can still smell the burning crappers, the smoke from smoke grenades and the napalm. Our ears still ring from the sounds of claymores going off, from incoming rockets and the cries of our wounded. We fought to hold the line against communism until finally we withdrew and Saigon fell. But we fought mainly to protect our brothers on our flanks. When we came home, no one said “Thanks for your service,” or “Job well done,” or even, “Welcome home.”
     Were you there with me, brother, when we went into the Dominican Republic to stop a communist takeover? Or maybe you were there when we overthrew the socialists in Grenada? We captured the Panamanian dictator and drug-smuggler Manuel Noriega. We were in Lebanon when terrorists bombed the Marine barracks in Beirut. We lost many brothers that day. The cost of freedom is high and is paid in blood in places like Somalia, Bosnia and Kosovo. Freedom isn’t free.
     Were you there with me, brother, when Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait and crossed the line we had drawn in the sand? We countered attacked with Desert Storm. We liberated Kuwait in 100 hours. We stood in shock as we watched oil wells burn. Finally, we invaded Iraq and occupied Baghdad. We searched and captured Hussein. He was tried and hanged. The country held free elections to vote in a new government. We felt the heat in July and August and froze our butts in January. We are still there to help keep the peace and to fight terrorism.
     Were you there with me, brother, when we went after the Taliban and Osama bin Laden in Afghanistan?  We hunted down Osama bin Laden and finally found him in Abbotabad, Pakistan where Navy seals killed him. We participated in Operation Khanjar ("strike of the sword"). We felt the oppressively heat of summer in Kandahar. We are still there to help keep the peace and to fight terrorism. 
     On this day we honor all veterans, living or dead. We shall never forget. We stand shoulder to shoulder with all veterans whether we share the same foxhole or just the same experiences. We have your six.
 
--Monte R. Anderson

Honoring my dad (Dale Anderson), my uncle (Royal Anderson) and my friend Steve Alber.

     I like TV. Okay, I may watch too much TV, and I tend to be critical, because I’m a writer. I’m getting sick and tired of some ridiculous actions and mistakes that so many scriptwriters make in TV scripts. When I see them, I want to scream. I know it’s fiction, but I do expect fiction to make some sense.

Here’s what I’m talking about.:
​

• Violating Newton’s Laws of Gravity. I know you’ve all seen this one. The hero throws a rope or chain around the villain’s neck and throws the other end over a beam or tree branch. Then, believe it or not our hero hoists the villain off the ground. Here’s the problem – there’d no advantage without a pulley. The hero must weigh considerably more than the bad guy for this to work. It’s simple mechanics – Newton’s 2nd Law of Gravity (the sum of the forces on a mass). Therefore, the force applied by pulling down on the rope must be greater than the weight of the object, in this case, the villain, to raise the object. It doesn’t matter how strong the hero’s arms are unless his/her feet are anchored.
• Karate kicks that are too powerful. Here’s another common sight – our hero kicks an opponent and the opponent goes flying backwards through the air. No way. I have a second-degree black belt in Tae Kwan Do, so I know a little about it. Once again, it’s mechanics -- Newton's third law (for every force there is an opposite and equal force) If one person kicks another hard enough to make them fly backwards, the kicker also will fly backward. Think about it – the foot or fist is small compared to the body. It would be like a chisel hitting a stone. The target wouldn’t fly backwards, but a rib or two might break.
• Parking directly in front of building. This is another scene that bugs me. Our hero pulls up to a build and finds a parking spot right in front and there’s no meter. In what universe would that happen? I have lived in NYC, LA, Chicago, Washington D.C. and a few other big cities. It never happens. People must arrive very early to park in front, and there’s usually a meter. Our hero would have to park in a parking garage or parking lot farther away. It might happen in a rural area, small town or suburb but not in a big city.
• Ridiculous stake outs. The scene shows one or two detectives sitting in a car on a stakeout right in front of suspect’s house or workplace. Usually, there seems to be a light under the dash. No one challenges them or even notices. It… would… never… happen. A nosey neighbor or neighborhood watch would notice. Even in a high crime area, people would suspect the detectives were drug dealers or narcs and alert the suspect or police.
• Extremely explosive hand grenades. You know the scene. Our hero throws a hand grenade and it explodes in a huge fire ball and people fly up into the air. That just blows my mind. Most grenades are fragmentation grenades that look like baseballs. They use a small explosive surrounded by a notched wire – no gas or fuel. Incendiary grenades look like beer cans and burn rather than explode. A hand grenade would not have a huge fire ball and wouldn’t blow people up into the air. It would just blow through them.
• Bad guys who are terrible shots. You would think that professional killers could at least hit the side of a barn when shooting. But no, our hero kills someone with every shot while the professional killers can’t seem to hit anything. The hero can run from cover to cover or through open terrain, and it’s as if the bad guys are shooting blanks. Give me a break.
• Popping up to shoot. Our hero is behind a rock or some other bullet proof cover and periodically pops up to shot. Yeah, right. That would never work. The bad guys would take aim at that spot and shoot our hero as soon as he/she pops. It might work if our hero could move to a different spot before popping up.
• Breaking necks with a twist of the hands. Our hero grabs the head of a bad guy with two hands and twists, killing him instantly. Theoretically, it might work, but here’s the problem; the neck muscles are very strong. Even if the villain is totally relaxed and surprised, the body’s natural reaction is to resist. If it were that easy, there would be more deaths in wrestling. I have wrestled off and on for ten years. It ain’t that easy. Now there are way to break a person’s neck, but I won’t disclose them here. Also, a broken neck doesn’t always mean instant death.
• One punch knockout. This is like the broken neck. I’ve done a little boxing and a lot of karate, and on a few rare occasions I have seen one-punch knockouts, but they are rare. In some cases, the person has a glass jaw.
• Throwing knives. When I was in junior high, I wasted a lot of my time practicing throwing knives. It wouldn’t be the best choice to kill an opponent. If the thrower misses, the intended victim could use the knife. Throwing knives to cut wires or ropes – forget it.
• Ticking bombs. It’s a tense scene. Our hero must figure out which wire to cut while a clock nearby counts down the time in bold, red letters. What a laugh. Most bombs consist of a power supply (or just a switch), an initiator that causes the bomb to explode (often a blasting cap), an explosive and maybe something for shrapnel. If the explosive is like C-4, the bomb maker just sticks the blasting cap in the C-4. Therefore, if possible, the quickest way to render a bomb harmless is to pull out the blasting caps. Be sure to move them far away from the explosive.
• Stereotypical detectives. It seems in every detective show; the protagonist keeps some evidence secret or lies about it. They also chase leads and clues without backup and never calls ahead to the local law enforcement to secure the suspect. Come on! They can’t all be rogues.
• Not wearing head protection. I am appalled when I see our heroes joining the SWAT team without heads protection. Say, “It ain’t so”. At least they don’t get shot in the head.
• Holding the rope during rappelling. I love this one. Our hero rappels down a cliff while his/her partner (anchor) sit at the top and holds on to the other end. This might be possible if the anchor person is sitting and has some way to brace the feet. Otherwise, the anchor would be pulled over the cliff.
• Getting confidential information on patients from nurses and doctors. I go crazy when I watch a TV show where a detective (Chicago PD) or fireman (Chicago FD) goes up to the nurses’ station (Chicago Med) and asks about the status of a patient and is told. It’s a clear violation of HIPAA (the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act). It’s illegal for medical personnel to divulge medical information on patients without the patient’s consent. It could happen but probably won’t--except in Chicago.
• Romance after a near death experience. I know you’ve seen this. Our hero and the significant other barely survive disaster. It could be a group of assassins, a natural disaster or space aliens trying to conquer the earth. Immediate the two decide this would be a great time to make out. Duh? I would think it would be a good time to change underwear, stay alert in case the monster returns or one of the killers is merely wounded, or catch some shut eye.
• Sex in the hospital linen closet. This is why I don’t like hospital shows. I used to work in a hospital. Believe me, if the linen closet was big enough for sex, the hospital would turn it into a patient room. It’s all about business and profit and loss.
• No sense of urgency. I know you’ve seen this. The captain tells detectives that they have only a few minutes to save the day (stop the bomber, the killer, rescue the damsel) and they slowly walk off.
• Sneaking up on the bad guys with a flashlight. I hate this. The police or heroes are sneaking up on the villains using flashlights. It’s the best way to alert them that the police are coming. Apparently, criminals can’t see a flashlight.
• Crawling in duct work. This mistake drives me nuts because I used to be a facility manager. To begin with, ducts aren’t made to support the weight of a person or persons. They’re suspend from the ceiling or beams by thin strips of metal or wire. With one or two people inside, they would come crashing down. On TV, they appear to be 16X16 which is big. Ducts work like this, they come out of a furnace or air handler and progressively downsize as they supply heat or AC to a room. A duct vent in a room could be 12X4 – hardly big enough to crawl inside. They’re also filled with things like filters, smoke dampers and fire dampers. The best ducts are round, not rectangular. Just once I would like to see our hero fall into the furnace.
• Unlimited ammo. Writers are getting better at this, but there’re still scenes where our hero never runs out of ammo.
• Super lightweight machinegun ammo. This one is a little complicated. In the scene, our hero grabs a machinegun and begins killing hordes of zombies or whatever. So far so good. If he/she grabbed a M249 light machine gun (LMG), it weighs only 22 lbs. The ammo is the standard light 5.56x45mm NATO round. The M249 can fire 725-rounds per minute. If our hero carries 200 rounds of ammo, that’s about 7.2 lbs. That means he/she can shoot for about 15 seconds. But does our hero pick up the M249? No. Our hero picks up a M61 Vulcan, a hydraulically driven, six-barrel, Gatling-style rotary cannon which fires 20 mm rounds at a rate of 6,000 rounds per minute. Our hero would need a wagon or truck to carry enough ammo for one minute, and they’re heavy.
• Instant hacks. The crime TV shows give the impression that computer nerds can hack anything instantly. Not true. I expect to see a show where the electric toothbrush gets hacked.
• High speed transportation local and international with no jet lag. I know you’ve seen this one. Our hero has 48 hours to stop the criminal mastermind before a weapon of mass (WMD) destruction is detonated in NYC. To stop the master mind, our hero must first fly to Moscow to locate the master mind’s partner, then fly to Antarctica to get the code book needed to defuse the WMD, then return to NYC during rush hour to save the city – all within 48 hours. Yeah, right.
• Licking cooking spoon. This one I love. The scene is in the kitchen. The world renown chef is cooking something on the stove. He takes a spoon, tastes whatever is in the pot and places the germ-infested spoon with all his DNA and other bodily fluids back into the pot. No way. No professional chef would risk food poisoning or salmonella. I love to cook and even I know better than to do that.
• Noise in space. Here’s another one that drives me nuts. In outer space, there’s no air – it’s a vacuum (mostly). To make sound there must be air or something to transmit the sound. So why do we watch a space craft soar by with a roaring engine? It wouldn’t happen.
• Ear buds not detected. I enjoy watching TV shows like Scorpion, Quantico and Agents of Shield. If you are a fan, you know when the agents go undercover they use ear buds that transmit and receive so they can communicate. Everyone knows that. So why is it that the mega-corporate outfits that are behind all the evil in the world never bother to check in their ears when they do a pat down? Surely, at least one employee has a TV and watches the shows.    
• Cellphone reception. This is like the ear bud scenes above. Our hero is underground in a cave or under water in a submarine. He/she pulls out a cellphone and makes a call. WTF? I can’t even get reception in an elevator.
• Giving away the conspiracy. I think screenwriters do this for the audience. It happens in two ways: The criminal mastermind explains his/her plan, or the detectives explain their theory. You know the scenes. The mastermind is about to kill our hero. But before killing, he decides to explain to our hero in detail his entire manifesto for world domination and enslaving mankind. Why? Because he like to hear himself talk, I guess. In the second scene, the detectives bring in their prime suspect, and during the interrogation revel to the suspect their working theory and all the evidence they have so far. Why? Because they’re stupid. I guess they think the suspect will confess on the spot.
• Liars. On TV crime shows every suspect, person of interest and witness is lying. Really? Has society sunk that low? Never mind.
• Too close for comfort. This is another space thing. Our heroes fly in their space craft to rescue some space station or colony that is under attack by some other aliens. So, do they use their long-range scanners and engage from miles away with an advanced form of cruise missile or death ray? No, of course not. They get close enough to hit the aliens with a golf ball.
• Planets much too big or too close. Artistic license.
• Agreeing to a date and then not getting the phone number, setting a time or arranging a meeting place.
• Entering a house and leaving the door open. Same for refrigerators.

I hope these tips help your budding screenwriters. Best wishes.

​John Hunter was stunned as he stood in Times Square. This was not the New York City he remembered from his youth. Of course, that was over 150 years ago. John was a ‘young-old ghost’ as the spirit community liked to call ghosts that died young a long time ago. Most ghosts are “ancient-old ghosts”, having died at an old age a long time ago. John decided to make the best of his situation and to start haunting. Haunting a city was certainly more interesting that haunting a Civil War battlefield and with a hole in his head, John figured he could still provide a good scare. 

He waited until a group of people approached him on the sidewalk. They were walking with their heads down as if praying. No matter, John decided to scare the hell out of them. He waited until they were just a few feet in front of him and then he manifested himself and yell “boo.”

No one even noticed. The closest person walked right through him without stopping or even looking up. John decided he needed to up his game. When the next group of people approached him, he removed his head and threw it at the closest person. Nothing happened. His head sailed right through the person, bounced down the street and rolled down the steps of a subway entrance.

John, or at least his head, lay on the subway platform wondering how in the world he was going to find the rest of his body when he heard laughter. He glanced over and saw a young man, a young ghost really, laughing at him. Finally, the young ghost walked over and picked up John’s head and held it up so they were eye to eye.

“What are you laughing at?” John asked, irritated.
 
“Why, you of course. Let’s go find your body.” The young ghost carried John’s head under his arm and up the stairs to the street level. John’s body wasn’t hard to find; pedestrians were oblivious to it. They walked through it, not even bothering to lift their feet. The young ghost lifted John’s body and placed his head squaring on his neck. John looked down at his body. His head was backwards. He reached up and turned his head around. Then he looked around, found his kepis cap and placed it on his head.

“Oh,” exclaimed the young ghost. “You’re a soldier.”

John snapped to attention and saluted. “Private John Hunter, 22nd New York Volunteer Infantry at your service.”

The young ghost stuck out his hand. “Please to meet you, John. My name is Eston Morschauser.”
John shook Eston’s hand. “You’re young like me.”

“Well, I died young just last year. I guess I’m a ‘recent-young’ ghost as they say.”

“Maybe you can tell me what’s going on,” John said. “I tried to scare these people, but they just ignored me. They keep looking at their hands. What’s going on?”

Eston laughed. “You’re way behind the times. Where have you been?”

“I was killed during the Battle of Antietam in Maryland when a Confederate sniper shot me.”

“In the head, I presume.”

John raised his eyebrows. “Yes, how’d you know?”

Eston poked a finger through the hole in John’s head.

John laughed. “Yeah, lucky shot.”

“So, what have you been up to the last 150 plus years?” Eston asked.

“I stayed on the battlefield marching in solemn formations every night for visitors at the Antietam National Battlefield.”

Eston shook his head. “That must have been boring.”

“Not for the first one hundred years. To tell the truth, each time I thought maybe this time we’ll win. But it was the same results every time.”

Eston laughed. “So, you finally asked for a transfer?”

“Yeah. Now can you tell me what’s going on. I can’t seem to scare anyone.”

“That’s because everyone is looking at their iPhones; playing games, reading emails or sending pictures,” Eston answered.

“Wait, wait. An eye phone? What’s an eye phone?”

Eston smiled. “Not that kind of ‘eye’. It’s a communication device, like a telephone.”

John shook his head which would have fallen again if he hadn’t held on to it. “What’s a telephone?”
“Wow,” Eston answered. “What war were you in?”

“The Civil War. I was killed in Sharpsburg, Maryland, on September 17, 1862. A sniper shot me at the Sunken Road during the Battle of Antietam.”

“Wow,” Eston said. “So that’s what, over 150 years ago? There’s been a lot of progress since then. We haunt things differently now days. I’ll show you how.” Eston looked around. As the next guy passed, he entered through his back and snatched the iPhone out of his hands. He brought it over to John.  “This is an iPhone.” The man stopped and started looking for his iPhone. When he saw Eston talking to John, he screamed and ran away.

John took the iPhone and looked it over. “You said it was a communication device. Where are the wires? How does it work without wires?”

“It’s wireless. I don’t have time to bring you up to date on all the progress made in 150 years. You just have to accept what I tell you. Okay?”

John nodded. “Okay. What do I do now?”

“Good,” Eston said. “We haunt these things now I’ll show you how to enter the operating system and tell you the type of things you can do there.” Eston spent the next thirty minutes explaining how an iPhone works. Finally, he said. “Most of the apps on the iPhone are paid for by advertisements. These ads pop up here and there; some from the top down, some from the bottom up and some from the sides. They can be very annoying. To drive a person mad, just make ads pop up one after the other.”
John didn’t know what an ‘app’ was but decided to hold his question. “It’s that easy?” he asked.
“Oh, yes. You can also mess with their e-mails.”

This time he had to ask. “What’s an e-mail?

Eston smiled. “It means electronic mail. People use it to send messages to each other. All you do is mess with the addresses. Just change the address to someone else. If the message says something intimate, send it to everyone in their address book. I once sent a bunch of emails from Hillary Clinton to the WikiLeaks.”

“I don’t know who those people are.”

 Eston smiled, “That bring me to sexting.”

“What’s that?”

Eston smiled even wider. “Sexting means taking a naked picture or picture of one’s privates and sending it to a boy or girlfriend.”

“Good. I’m a private. Take my picture.”

Eston laughed. Not that kind of private. It’s a picture of your… you know… your thing.”

John blushed. “I would never do that.”

“Not your thing. People…live people do that.” Eston saw that this news puzzled John. “Don’t ask me why, they just do, and we can haunt that.”

“How do I do that?” John asked.

“Simple. Whenever you see someone sexting, you change the address to someone else. I like to use a parent, if I know it, but just about anyone will do.”

“And that works?”

“Oh, yeah,” answered Eston. “You should see what I did to Anthony Weiner. But the best haunting is with selfies.”

“What are selfies?” John asked.

“People now days, especially, young ones, like to take pictures of themselves alone or with someone and send to other people. When you see that they’re about to take a selfie, you jump into the background and manifest yourself in true ghostly fashion. We call it photobombing, and it will freak them out.”

John had seen only one camera in his entire life, but at least he knew what a photograph was. “Anything else?” he asked.

“Are you kidding? There are a million ways to possess a cellphone. One of my favorites uses the GPS.”

John sighed. “And what, pray tell is a ‘GPS’?”

“It stands for Global Positioning System. It uses satellites to triangulate the position of a cellphone.”
John had no idea what ‘satellites’ were or what it meant to’ triangulate’, but he was overwhelmed and let it pass. “So, what do you do to the GPS?”

“Whenever someone asks for directions, you change them. You know, send them the wrong way on a one-way street or take them miles out of the way. It drives people crazy.”
“Anything else? I can’t handle much more.”

“Okay, one more and you’ll love it. Some cellphones use artificial intelligence and an artificial voice. People can talk to them and they talk back. Two popular ones are Siri and Cortana. All you do is take over the voice and talk in a creepy, voice and maybe with a hideous laugh. It will freak people out.”
John laughed. “Now I like that. I’ll try it.”

“Well, that’s enough for now. That’s the basics. “Oh, before I forget, Halloween is October 31. All the ghosts in the city get together and ride the subways all night. I’ll come to get you after sundown. Happy haunting and welcome to New York City”

John said, “Thanks.”
​
THE END