Blog Archives

Journalists in War Zones

2/25/2015

I read with interest in the news that #VA Secretary, #McDonald, falsely claimed to have served in the special forces. He later apologized. That put him in the same boat with #BrianWilliams who claimed to have been shot at and #BillO'Reilly who claimed to have been in a “war zone.” Turns out that McDonald was actually in the 82nd Airborne; kinda a special unit. I had two tours with the All American Division. “Airborne – All the Way”

I am a veteran and I'm not particularly offended. For the record, I served in the 101st Division in #Vietnam as an Infantry Platoon Leader. We called the War Zone “Vietnam.” I was shot at and missed. I wasn't even wounded. I can understand that #journalists can be confused on what constitutes a war zone. While I was in Vietnam, I read articles written by reporters in Vietnam. It was clear to me that they did their reporting from a bar in #Saigon. Combat vets who knew that they were reporters would tell them real whoppers and the reporters believed them. Those of us on the front lines would read them and laugh and laugh. They were great entertainment but not true.

Of course, Brian Williams has been suspended. We'll wait and see what happens with O'Reilly as the story unfolds. Apparently, he referred to his experience covering the aftermath of the #Falklands conflict as being in a “war zone”. He went on to say that several people were killed at a protest that he was at and that his cameraman was injured. A series of #MotherJones reports and reports from others dispute O'Reilly's statements and that no one was killed and no #CBS staff was injured. O'Reilly wrote a novel based on his experiences covering the Falkland War. Clearly, he has a problem separating reality from fiction. O'Reilly is the host on #FoxNews. Let's be clear about this; Fox News is not a news station. It is the propaganda department of the Republican Party.

Perhaps the military should have an award for journalists who report from a war zone. I would name it the Battle Situation Award; BS Award for short. More to follow, I'm sure.

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My Digital Legacy

2/23/2015

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As I approach the certainty of my death, as certain as April 15 is tax day, I have become concerned about my legacy, not unlike President Obama. I am not concerned about what I have accomplished; that is on the history books, such that it is. My concern is what my children will find among my stuff when they have to clean up the mess I leave behind. I would like to take it with me, but I can't. With an eye to my legacy, I began to straighten up my stuff. I have already thrown out anything I do not want them to find in the house: my extensive collection of Playboy magazines, my file of angry letters to the editors of various newspapers, and my little black book of women I have dated.

What worries me the most is what they may find on my computer. I have taken care to delete everything I do not want them to find. Once again, any pornography, nasty e-mails, my Google search history and dumb jokes from my old Army buddies. I think I have deleted anything that might be objectionable to my family. Whatever remains is politically correct. What I am working on now is what I want them to find--my digital legacy.

I have downloaded every e-book I can find on quantum physics, astronomy, and Chinese. I have inserted little comments in the margins that agree with or dispute certain points. On the Chinese book, I have highlighted passages throughout the book. I have written e-mails to famous people like President Obama, Stephen Hawkins and Rush Limball. More importantly, I have written their replies. Never mind that they never received the e-mail and never wrote me back. My children do not need to know that. In their replies, these celebrities agree with my comments and encourage me to continue my efforts.

I have created a file of certificates and awards from numerous agencies; Windows has many templates. These include awards from the CIA and FBI for the undercover work that I have done. All the astronauts signed one award. Another award is from the CDC for finding a cure for a rare disease to be named later.

Now that I have started this effort, I have to continue every day. My premature death must interrupt some project of monumental importance or at least seem so. I want to make my kids proud.

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Best Selling Dead Author

2/20/2015

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I read with interest that #RandomHouse said it will publish a recently discovered book by Dr. #Seuss, titled What Pet Should I Get? They will publish at least two more books based on materials found in 2013. Dr. Seuss died in 1991. It reminded me of a short story that I wrote titled, Best Selling Dead Author. I hope you enjoy it.

Joe Regan was a writer. His suicide note was not his best piece of work. It simply read, “Fair well cruel world.” Joe took all the sleeping pills and sat down in his recliner. When he opened his eyes again, he was looking into the face of his agent, Bernie Blackwell.

Bernie smiled and brushed back Joe’s hair. “Hey.”

“Hey. Oh, my head hurts.” Joe looked around. “Where am I?”

“You are in St. Thomas Hospital. I found you and called 911. The doctors pumped your stomach. You’ve been in a coma for five days, man.”

“Oh. I don’t know if I should thank you or not. I just wanted to die.”

“I know, man. I found your note. Why did you do it?”

Joe smiled. “You’re my agent. I think you know why. My novel has been rejected by 45 publishers and I haven’t earned a dime in three years.”

Bernie chuckled. “It is 47 publishers now. I didn’t get a chance to tell you about the last two. However, while you were in a coma, I’ve been busy. I posted your suicide note on a few key social media web sites and wrote what a tragedy it was since your novel is so great.”

“My suicide note? I did not say much in my note.”

Bernie smiled. “Yeah, well, I sort of rewrote it. I also went ahead and published the e-book version of your novel. It is going viral. We sold over 10,000 copies in four days. We now have offers from three publishers. I think if you had died, your novel would make the best sellers’ list.”

“Lucky me! I have to nearly kill myself for my novel to sell.”

“Joe, what do you expect? You wrote a romance novel about gay pygmies living in San Francisco-not a great genre. Anyway, since you really don’t want to live, would you consider killing yourself? It would mean a lot to me. I could help.”

“What! My novel is finally published and you want me to kill myself? Are you crazy?”

Bernie shrugged his shoulders. “No big deal. Come on, get up. I brought a wheelchair. I am taking you out of here.” He handed Joe a glass of water and some pills. “Here, take these.”

Joe took the pills with the water. With Bernie’s help, he got into the wheelchair. Bernie wheeled Joe out of ICU and headed for the elevators. Bernie pushed the up call button for the elevator.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Don’t worry about it. I am taking you to the tenth floor. The second elevator is out of service. I should be able to open the doors there.”

“Bernie, I don’t feel so good. What were those pills?”

“Sleeping pills.”

“I took four. Am I supposed to take that many?”

“No, man. You are supposed to take only one every 12 hours.”

“Won’t that kill me?”

“No. It will make you comatose. In your condition, you won’t notice that the elevator is not there. The fall from the tenth floor will kill you.”

“But Bernie, I don’t want to die any more. I want to live.”

“Listen, man. I’m telling you. If you die, we will make the best sellers’ list. We’ll be able to negotiate a big contract. We’ll attract more talented writers.”

“We? I’ll be dead.”

The elevator arrived and Bernie pushed the wheelchair inside and pushed the tenth floor button.

“Well, yeah,” said Bernie. “Quit thinking about yourself for once. Did you even consider me? This is my big break. When I post your next suicide note, we’ll sell a million copies of your novel. Plus, I am sure I can get a six figure advance for your next novel.”

My next novel? I never wrote a second novel.”

“It will be found among your things after your death.”

“Bernie, don’t do this. I don’t want to die.”

“Quit being selfish! Close your eyes now and rest. It will all be over in a few minutes. You are going to be a bestselling author. Congratulations.”

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#FAA Proposes Rules for #Drones

2/18/2015

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I read with interest that the FAA has proposed rules for flying drones. The FAA has suggested that drones:

1. Not fly at night.

2. Not fly close to an airport.

3. Must fly within the operator's sight.

4. Operators must pass a knowledge test.

5. Travel at under 100 mph.

6. Fly lower than 500 feet.

7. Not fly over people except those flying the drone.

Drone companies are planning to use them initially for crop monitoring, aerial photography, inspections of bridges and cell towers, and much more. I think that the FAA should add a few more rules such as:

1. Pizza must still be delivered within 30 minutes or it's free.

2. Restaurants must have a drone free seating area.

3. Drones must not be used to deliver court summons or divorce papers.

4. Home owners should be allowed to shoot down drones that fly over their property.

5. Drones can be used at sporting events provided both team have them and they fight each other.

6. Drones can't be used to hold a place in line or a parking spot.

7. Drones can be used to chase mimes.

8. Drone operators can't fly drones while under the influence of alcohol or drugs.

9.Drone operators must renew their licenses every year otherwise they drone on and on and on.

10. The paparazzi can't use drones to track celebrities.

Did I miss any? Let me know.

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It is #Cold in the #Northeast.

2/16/2015

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With a nod to #JohnnyCarson, I have to say that it is cold here in #NewYork. How cold is it, you ask? It is so cold that:

1. I had a thought and it froze.

2. My farts fall to the floor, roll around and crack open.

3. My dogs refuse to go outside without coats and boots.

4. When the forecast is for 5 degrees above zero, I look forward to the warmer weather.

5. I tried to spit and injured a bystander.

6. When I blink, my eyelashes freeze together.

7. I thought perhaps the White Soxs won the world series since hell must have frozen over.

8. I started a heated argument with my wife just to get warm.

9. I saw a Yeti driving a snow plow.

10. I'm using ice melt in my coffee.

Perhaps you have some similar experiences to share.

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Answers to the Police Question, “Do You Know Why I Pulled You Over?”

2/12/2015

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I got a ticket yesterday for not wearing my seat belt. I know I should so don't start in on me. This was not my first rodeo. The officer asked me the same question that they always ask me when they pull me over, “Do you know why I pulled you over?” Why do they do that? Seems like a game. I stared at him while trying to look surprised and answered, “No, Officer, I don't know why you pulled me over?” I wanted to say, “I was hoping you knew.” Later I realized that perhaps he wanted a more imaginative answer. He probably had a dull day writing tickets and wanted some witty repartee to share back at the station at the end of his shift. I'm sorry to let him down. I decided to be prepared next time with a list of better responses. I thought I would share them with you. Post this on your sun visor so you can review your answer as the police officer walks over to your car.

Ten answers to the question when an officer asks, “Do you know why I pulled you over?”

1. “You're not sure that your radar gun is working so you wanted to check it against my speedometer?”

2. “You wanted to compliment me on my excellent driving?”

3. “If you can't remember let's just call it a day and go home.”

4. “You thought I was your ex-girlfriend's new boyfriend and you wanted to harass me?”

5. “You ran out of serial killers and terrorists?”

6. “You wanted to know who cuts my hair?”

7. “You wanted to know if this '88 Buick is older than you?”

8. “Your chief is watching and you want to make a good impression?”

9. “Your guess is better than mine.”

10. “You wanted to give me a ticket and it's easier if I'm not moving?”

I hope one of these answers gets you out of a ticket. Good luck with that. I'm sure you can add to this list, so let's hear them.

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A #Zombie #Valentine'sDay

2/9/2015

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I hate holidays. Not the ones with a three day weekend, just the ones invented by greeting card companies. One year I forgot Valentine's Day until the day it arrived. Usually, I order flowers for my wife online. After all, she is the mother of two of our beautiful children, and a third not so beautiful child. On the way home I checked my usual source for flowers but there was no one at the off ramp. In desperation, I drove to the nearest box store. The scene at the flower department was a disaster; flowers flung everywhere; stems bent, leaves torn, and missing petals. I searched desperately for a gift: a small bouquet, a potted plant, or even a single rose. Nothing.

Several other men in my predicament also searched in vain like zombies from the Night of the #LivingDead. At some point, I bumped into the department manager. Her hair was in disarray, her blouse wrinkled and stained, and she wore no shoes. I asked if I could get a corsage. She gave me an exasperated look and shook her head. I decided to use my well-developed technique that seems to help in desperate situations; I began to cry. She took pity on me, put my head on her shoulder, and patted my back.

“Perhaps,” she said. “They can make you one in the back.” As I shuffled in the direction she pointed, I heard her shout, “Dead man walking!”

When I arrived at the rear of the store, the scene was not much better. I saw two women making corsages as fast as possible. Both had Band-Aids on every finger. The trash was full of flowers ruined by blood from pricked fingers. As fast as one was made they put it into a petite white box.

When I asked if I could buy one, both women immediately stopped working, and looked at me as though I was the person in the elevator who farted. I was in trouble. The bigger of the two leaned forward.

“Do you realize how many local high schools have dances tonight?” Pointing to the stacks of white cardboard boxes, “We still have to make 150 more corsages and have them ready for pick up in one hour.”

I fell back on my proven technique and began to cry; my lower lip quivered and tears collected in the corners of my eyes. She softened. “Oh God, not another cry baby!” she shouted. “Okay! Okay! You can have one.”

I returned home carrying the corsage like a cat with a bird and presented it to my wife. She looked surprised and uttered those words that every man loves to hear. “You remembered!”

THE END

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Can #Marijuna Improve Your #CreativeWriting?

2/4/2015

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There's a lot of buss about marijuana lately. It is completely legal in #Colorado, #Washington, #Alaska, and #Oregon. The cities of Portland and South Portland in #Maine have joined the club. The decriminalization of marijuana use and the its medicinal use is legal in ten states. Nine states and #Guam have legalized medical marijuana. Many people have praised the benefits of marijuna and how it expands the creative mind. I have never smoked #pot but I think in the intereest of research, I should try to see if it helps my writing.

Here goes: One joint. Not bad. I don't decern any improvement in my creative writing.

Two joints -- Hey, this stuff's not bad. I'll try some more. I'm finding it hard to consentrate on writing. What was I writing about?

After three joints – My writing does look a little fuzzy. I'm not sure where the colors came from, but I like them. I am starting to hear the letters talking to me. Crazy!

Just finished mine 4 joints – I kinda like those. I do thunk that it improves my writ if I can just get the letters to stay on the page. The letters kept jumping around and I think they are going crazy.. But this comes as no surprise.

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Is it Possible That We All Have #Superpowers?

2/2/2015

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I am a fan of the #X-Men. I enjoy watching #Wolverine, #Magneto, #Mystique, #Storm, that the others with their mutant powers. As a kid, like many young boys, I enjoyed comics with the stories about #Superman, #Spiderman, the #HumanTorch, #TheThing, #Aquaman, and #Flash and how they used their super powers to battle evil. We all did. Now that I am older I realize that each of us has at least one super power, or more. We may not know what they are but you don't have to be a mutant to use them.

For example, my wife has several super powers. One of her powers is super hearing. She can hear an ant crawl on the kitchen counter. Sometimes she'll listen then announce to me, “We have ants!” I have to do something about it, apparently. Her super hearing is so sensitive that she can hear silence. Sometimes, she wakes me in the middle of the night and tells me that she can hear that I'm not breathing. Wow!

She also has a super sense of smell. If I eat a donut while I am out of the house, she can smell it when I get home. She'll ask me, “Did you get one for me?” She also can read the minds of our two greyhounds. Often when they come to me, she'll tell me, “They want a treat” or “They want out” or “They want to be petted.” Wow again. She even has the power to know what I want. When I stand up, she'll say, “You want to get me a glass of wine.” I didn't even know that. She might say, “You want to take me out to dinner.” It's amazing!

Remember when you were a kid and you thought your mom had eyes in the back of her head? That was her super powers. My super power? I can make people smile. I'm working up to laughter. Perhaps you have a super power or know someone who has. Let's hear about it.

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