I was copied on an e-mail sent to our producer from a high-powered literary agent based in Los Angeles. He said, due to the producer's recommendation, he would be glad to look at my work and see how his company can assist me in this new career.
This is what I've really been looking for all these years. If there's one thing to know going into this arena...it's a tough biz.
I started writing more than fifteen years ago. It started out with poetry as I needed an outlet for my emotions during trying times. About five years ago I began a search for a literary agent. I thought I got close one time. The guy was talking about how he could make me Longfellow, Wadsworth and Shelley all wrapped up into one. It was sounding really good until he dropped the other shoe. All I had to do was give him twenty-five thousand dollars. Click. Apart from that incident, I couldn't get anyone in that field to talk to me...much less look at my work.
Trying to get published and/or get an agent to help you get published is one of this world's great lessons in patience. It is a very competitive market and there are so many actual and would-be authors out there hawking their wares that you wonder if anyone will ever see you among the masses that are clamoring for attention. I could wallpaper my house with rejection slips and at times it got very discouraging.
What helped me was that I love to write. It is a passion that has grown with time and I am never more at peace than when I am banging out a new story. I get emotionally attached to some of the characters (I know...I need therapy) I create and at times I can't bring myself to kill them off or just leave them dangling at the end of the book. An example is Sam Harridan, the main character in The Grove of Akkadia. It wasn't until I was more than halfway through the book that I decided I would keep Sam active in a sequel. That's how much I like him. On the flip side, the unmitigated wickedness of Enidor Fox in Evil Most Holy just couldn't be contained in one book...so I'm mulling a sequel to that one. You have to love what you do if you ever expect to get better at it. And, that's what has happened to me. If you compare my first novel, Deathjester, with my latest release, Hell's Gunman, you wouldn't know it was written by the same author.
When everyone who read The Keeper's Dare, (who got back to me), said that it would make a great movie, I decided to write a screenplay. I've been shopping it now for almost three years. I got a nibble of interest while in London with some folks in the UK Film Industry, but it soon petered out. Then, another little break and the script was in Hollywood being read by a producer and again, it fizzled and died. Now, I have two exclusive contracts coming my way with interests in it and The Grove of Akkadia. Will they make feature films of these? Who knows? The probability factor says no...it only happens to the other guy. The possibility factor is wide open and says yes...it can happen to anybody. And now, as I said at the beginning of the blog, a literary agent is willing to look at my work and consider taking me on as a client. Will he? Again, who knows? But there is one rule that is true across every spectrum of employment, profession or career. It's not what you know...but who you know. There have been so many 'chance' happenings since last January that coincidence doesn't quite cut it when you're looking at how this has all occurred.
Most of the time it takes about six months and up to a year for me to write a novel. Hell's Gunman was written in two months. When my brother read it, he urged me to not put it up as a self published work, but to send it to a publisher. I had been down this road soooo many times and only got one-sentence rejection slips back in the mail over and over and over again. Yet, I took his advice and in three months I had a contract. So, not only do you have to love writing, you have to be persistent and never give up. There will be family members that will shake their head at your effort and wonder why you try. There will be friends that will smile and tell you 'That's good' that you're writing, but their mannerisms tell you what they are really thinking, and that's 'Whatever'. There will be acquaintances that couldn't care less that you write in your spare time and won't want to listen about your latest book idea. Sometimes...you feel all alone.
That's when I'm at my best. In my opinion. I seem to get more determined when I'm the last defender of the Alamo (a symbol of my work). Finishing The Last Medal, I put it in my wife's hands and asked her to read it. The story is a fictional crime/detective yarn set in Houston. About halfway through, she approached me and warned that I better not have killed off a character named Hinson. I said, "Baby, the book's already been written. If he's dead, he's dead." I knew then the story had grabbed her, and she doesn't like that kind of book. When finished, she told me it was my best work yet and while reading it she kept thinking, "Hey, my husband can write.". I had a fan. It only took twelve years.
Right now, I'm almost at the top of this roller coaster. My desire is to stay there once I reach it, and my prayer is that I don't go back into the dip of writer's despair. But if I do see all this crash and burn and hit with a loud thud...I won't give up. I won't stop the pursuit...as long as there is breath in my body. It's been a long ride. Maybe it is my time. We'll see.
Saturday, September 21, 2013
Saturday, September 14, 2013
How To Tell You're Growing Old
Of course, the first clue is what you see in the mirror. Yeah...I'm gettin' old. Here are a few more clues I've come up with.
1. You're growing old if you have a weekly pill dispenser with more than five pills for each day.
2. You're growing old when you hear the music you grew up with being played on TV commercials.
3. You're growing old when a part of your daily routine is to look in the Obits.
4. You're growing old if 'a roll in the hay' has come to mean only biscuits and hash browns.
5. You're growing old if you have learned how to effectively tone out your spouse and still nod at the appropriate times.
6. You're growing old when all NFL players look like high school kids.
7. You're growing old when the doctor gives the news about your impending death...and you smile.
8. You're growing old when you can't remember sex ever being more important than going to sleep.
9. You're growing old when your idea of a party consists of meeting another couple at Cracker Barrel.
10. You're growing old when doing number 2 is looked at as an accomplishment for the day.
11. You're growing old if the work week goes by as fast as the weekend.
12. You're growing old if you have no inhibitions about farting in public.
13. You're growing old when you take a tube of Preparation H wherever you go.
14. You're growing old if baths aren't as important to you as they were twenty years ago.
15. You're growing old when you get in the car, realize you forgot the keys, go back inside to get them, only to realize you put them in your pocket before you walked to the car. (Just yesterday)
16. You're growing old if your pants are pulled up under your moobs. (Men only on this one)
17. You're growing old if you can't eat anything past six PM without getting indigestion.
18. You're growing old when everyone that was older than you is now dead. It's kind of a BIG clue.
19. You're growing old if the snap, crackle and pop you hear every morning isn't breakfast....it's just you getting out of bed.
20. You're growing old when you start thinking you will never be senile. Or...aren't already.
Here's an old poem I saw several years ago to highlight our plight as we, meaning men, go into the Olden Years. I don't know who wrote it, but it wasn't me. I just like it.
Now that I'm old and feeble,
My pilot light is out.
What used to be my sex appeal
Is now my water spout.
I used to have some trouble,
To make the thing behave,
For every single morning
It would stand and watch me shave.
But now I'm growing older,
And it sure gives me the blues...
To have the thing hang down my leg;
And watch me shine my shoes.
HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND!!!!
1. You're growing old if you have a weekly pill dispenser with more than five pills for each day.
2. You're growing old when you hear the music you grew up with being played on TV commercials.
3. You're growing old when a part of your daily routine is to look in the Obits.
4. You're growing old if 'a roll in the hay' has come to mean only biscuits and hash browns.
5. You're growing old if you have learned how to effectively tone out your spouse and still nod at the appropriate times.
6. You're growing old when all NFL players look like high school kids.
7. You're growing old when the doctor gives the news about your impending death...and you smile.
8. You're growing old when you can't remember sex ever being more important than going to sleep.
9. You're growing old when your idea of a party consists of meeting another couple at Cracker Barrel.
10. You're growing old when doing number 2 is looked at as an accomplishment for the day.
11. You're growing old if the work week goes by as fast as the weekend.
12. You're growing old if you have no inhibitions about farting in public.
13. You're growing old when you take a tube of Preparation H wherever you go.
14. You're growing old if baths aren't as important to you as they were twenty years ago.
15. You're growing old when you get in the car, realize you forgot the keys, go back inside to get them, only to realize you put them in your pocket before you walked to the car. (Just yesterday)
16. You're growing old if your pants are pulled up under your moobs. (Men only on this one)
17. You're growing old if you can't eat anything past six PM without getting indigestion.
18. You're growing old when everyone that was older than you is now dead. It's kind of a BIG clue.
19. You're growing old if the snap, crackle and pop you hear every morning isn't breakfast....it's just you getting out of bed.
20. You're growing old when you start thinking you will never be senile. Or...aren't already.
Here's an old poem I saw several years ago to highlight our plight as we, meaning men, go into the Olden Years. I don't know who wrote it, but it wasn't me. I just like it.
Now that I'm old and feeble,
My pilot light is out.
What used to be my sex appeal
Is now my water spout.
I used to have some trouble,
To make the thing behave,
For every single morning
It would stand and watch me shave.
But now I'm growing older,
And it sure gives me the blues...
To have the thing hang down my leg;
And watch me shine my shoes.
HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND!!!!
Thursday, September 12, 2013
What's the Matter, AFL-CIO?
"We have to pass it to see what's in it." That famously idiotic line from Nancy Pelosi is now the booger-bear for unions and I LOVE it. The AFL-CIO has passed a resolution saying, in essence, that Obamacare will be 'highly disruptive' to union health plans. Boo-hoo. Boo-hoo.
How can that be? The unions were the main supporters of their new master, who promised promise on promise about how we would all eat cheese and drink wine and have a doctor in every bedroom and a defibrillator by each bed and if you already like your health plan you can keep it and blah blah blah blah. But now? They're screamin' like stuck pigs now. And, they're saying changes in the law must be made to accommodate their lower wage earner members and they want rules implemented into the law that would treat their multi-employer plans as qualified exchange plans.
HOLD THE PHONE!
The White House has already made exemptions for this brick-a-brack and that one, making this new law a joke from the very beginning. If the rules are changed to accommodate unions, now that they see the new law affects them in a negative way, that should tell us all what Obamacare is really about. Unlike the clueless Supreme Court, a lot of us see this as nothing more than a tax and grab scheme to drain us of our resources even further and to put a lock and collar of control on us that will only get worse in the future.
The unions in this country have had their way for far too long. The arrogance of those running them and those who are members of them know no bounds. OH Yes, Obamacare is good for the rest of us peasants, but not for the unions or their members. Yeah? Well, stew in it.
Unions were a necessary evil at the turn of the last century, but they have done their job and its time for them to GO. I always thought it hilarious that people join unions and pay 'dues' that are just another 'tax' coming out of their paycheck with little representation to show for it. The only time the union leaders stand up and really yelp is when THEIR pocketbook gets hit. Reminds me of Congress.
I thought we were all in this together? Haven't the unions ever heard of give and take? No, they haven't. All they've ever read about is the 'take' part. Well, take this....Obamacare is bad for EVERYBODY who works and pays taxes, union and non-union alike.
If you want to know what the AFL-CIO really thinks, all you have to do is read the first draft that didn't make the cut for political expediency. The first draft said if the rules changes are not implemented to accommodate the unions, then Obamacare should be repealed. Imagine that. The signature piece of legislation that the worst president this country has ever seen passed and hoped to build his legacy on....is a red herring that nobody...NOBODY...wants. Unless you're an idiot. Then, it's a great thing.
I apologize if you're a union member and you don't get your daily bottle from your masters. I know it's a tough pill to swallow, but YOU wanted this. As the old saying goes, be careful what you ask for. You might just get it. I have to go now. I'm laughing too hard to keep typing.
How can that be? The unions were the main supporters of their new master, who promised promise on promise about how we would all eat cheese and drink wine and have a doctor in every bedroom and a defibrillator by each bed and if you already like your health plan you can keep it and blah blah blah blah. But now? They're screamin' like stuck pigs now. And, they're saying changes in the law must be made to accommodate their lower wage earner members and they want rules implemented into the law that would treat their multi-employer plans as qualified exchange plans.
HOLD THE PHONE!
The White House has already made exemptions for this brick-a-brack and that one, making this new law a joke from the very beginning. If the rules are changed to accommodate unions, now that they see the new law affects them in a negative way, that should tell us all what Obamacare is really about. Unlike the clueless Supreme Court, a lot of us see this as nothing more than a tax and grab scheme to drain us of our resources even further and to put a lock and collar of control on us that will only get worse in the future.
The unions in this country have had their way for far too long. The arrogance of those running them and those who are members of them know no bounds. OH Yes, Obamacare is good for the rest of us peasants, but not for the unions or their members. Yeah? Well, stew in it.
Unions were a necessary evil at the turn of the last century, but they have done their job and its time for them to GO. I always thought it hilarious that people join unions and pay 'dues' that are just another 'tax' coming out of their paycheck with little representation to show for it. The only time the union leaders stand up and really yelp is when THEIR pocketbook gets hit. Reminds me of Congress.
I thought we were all in this together? Haven't the unions ever heard of give and take? No, they haven't. All they've ever read about is the 'take' part. Well, take this....Obamacare is bad for EVERYBODY who works and pays taxes, union and non-union alike.
If you want to know what the AFL-CIO really thinks, all you have to do is read the first draft that didn't make the cut for political expediency. The first draft said if the rules changes are not implemented to accommodate the unions, then Obamacare should be repealed. Imagine that. The signature piece of legislation that the worst president this country has ever seen passed and hoped to build his legacy on....is a red herring that nobody...NOBODY...wants. Unless you're an idiot. Then, it's a great thing.
I apologize if you're a union member and you don't get your daily bottle from your masters. I know it's a tough pill to swallow, but YOU wanted this. As the old saying goes, be careful what you ask for. You might just get it. I have to go now. I'm laughing too hard to keep typing.
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Putin Playing Obama Like a Drum
It's almost too painful to laugh at the ineptitude and incompetence that's going on right now with this administration regarding foreign policy, specifically Syria. Pootin'...(that's how I like to spell Putin's name)...is ex-KGB. Obama? Ex-community organizer. Who did you think was going to win?
Yes, let's allow Russia to 'police' their ally and scrub Syria clean of all those nasty chemical weapons. We can trust the Russians. Right?
Our 'wannabe' world leader marked down a red line. Then, he says he didn't mark down a red line. He lauds the treaty (that over 180 nations signed), as the proof text for military action against Syria. Yet, (as it's been reported on several reputable news sites), nowhere does it say that if someone uses chemical weapons, the U.S. is to attack immediately...or anybody else for that matter. In fact, all you hear from those other nations is crickets right now. France was all for it a few days ago, but now has backed off. Obama is a man alone, as even the demoncrats are deserting his good ship Idiot Asylum. He comes to the American people to state his case, but there is something strange in his rhetoric. Let's see...he was against the war in Iraq and seriously questioned the government's intel report about WMD's. Now, since it's HIM talking...we are to implicitly trust this laughing stock and rush pell mell into a religious civil war among people that are equally idiotic as he is that (A) has not attacked us, (B) holds no strategic value for us and (C) will hate us regardless of what we do or don't do.
Hollywood is silent right now. Some have said they aren't speaking out because they don't want to look anti-black. Ain't that a hoot? I like what one reporter said. Here we had George Bush killing brown people and he was attacked from every direction by the media. Now, we have a half-black president killing brown people but if you say anything against him then you're a racist. Can you not see how ridiculous that is?
If anyone is a winner in all this it's Pootin'. Russia has come on the world stage as the freakin' peacekeeper. The alliance between Russia, Syria and Iran is much stronger now thanks to Obama, Kerry and lil' miss presidential wannabe, Hillary "I got fired from the Watergate investigation" Clinton. After Benghazi, why does anyone still want to hear anything she has to say? Incredible. Pootin' owns Obama right now, and probably will while this amateur leader is still in office. Russia's allies, while few...are emboldened because Russia's leader stands strong and speaks out, while our leader spews out hollow threats and then skulks back into his cave when things don't work out. For the first time in a long time, that can be called NEVER, we have a president who blinked during a Russian stand-off.
When you look at the two men, which one comes off looking more like a leader? If you say Obama...I feel for you. I thank God for those in this country that have said no to any military strike in Syria. America's voice was heard, and unlike Obamacare, this time it isn't a fragmented voice or a partisan voice. It's a unified voice. WE DO NOT WANT TO DO ANYTHING MILITARILY IN SYRIA. If he does it anyway, then that should tell us all we do not have a president that is representative of what the American people want. He will then be nearer to a dictator than an elected official.
I would take Bill Clinton back in a heartbeat. He could even put Monica in the bedroom next to his for all I care. At least Clinton had backbone. Obama is devoid of any kind of skeletal structure, symbolically speaking. He's a worm squirming in hot ashes right now....and it's all of his own making. Pootin' is simply stirring the ashes with a stick, making sure Obama gets it on all sides.
From politics to policy to administrative and on....this...in my opinion...is the absolutely worst president in the history of the country. The only question that remains is....can we survive him?
Yes, let's allow Russia to 'police' their ally and scrub Syria clean of all those nasty chemical weapons. We can trust the Russians. Right?
Our 'wannabe' world leader marked down a red line. Then, he says he didn't mark down a red line. He lauds the treaty (that over 180 nations signed), as the proof text for military action against Syria. Yet, (as it's been reported on several reputable news sites), nowhere does it say that if someone uses chemical weapons, the U.S. is to attack immediately...or anybody else for that matter. In fact, all you hear from those other nations is crickets right now. France was all for it a few days ago, but now has backed off. Obama is a man alone, as even the demoncrats are deserting his good ship Idiot Asylum. He comes to the American people to state his case, but there is something strange in his rhetoric. Let's see...he was against the war in Iraq and seriously questioned the government's intel report about WMD's. Now, since it's HIM talking...we are to implicitly trust this laughing stock and rush pell mell into a religious civil war among people that are equally idiotic as he is that (A) has not attacked us, (B) holds no strategic value for us and (C) will hate us regardless of what we do or don't do.
Hollywood is silent right now. Some have said they aren't speaking out because they don't want to look anti-black. Ain't that a hoot? I like what one reporter said. Here we had George Bush killing brown people and he was attacked from every direction by the media. Now, we have a half-black president killing brown people but if you say anything against him then you're a racist. Can you not see how ridiculous that is?
If anyone is a winner in all this it's Pootin'. Russia has come on the world stage as the freakin' peacekeeper. The alliance between Russia, Syria and Iran is much stronger now thanks to Obama, Kerry and lil' miss presidential wannabe, Hillary "I got fired from the Watergate investigation" Clinton. After Benghazi, why does anyone still want to hear anything she has to say? Incredible. Pootin' owns Obama right now, and probably will while this amateur leader is still in office. Russia's allies, while few...are emboldened because Russia's leader stands strong and speaks out, while our leader spews out hollow threats and then skulks back into his cave when things don't work out. For the first time in a long time, that can be called NEVER, we have a president who blinked during a Russian stand-off.
When you look at the two men, which one comes off looking more like a leader? If you say Obama...I feel for you. I thank God for those in this country that have said no to any military strike in Syria. America's voice was heard, and unlike Obamacare, this time it isn't a fragmented voice or a partisan voice. It's a unified voice. WE DO NOT WANT TO DO ANYTHING MILITARILY IN SYRIA. If he does it anyway, then that should tell us all we do not have a president that is representative of what the American people want. He will then be nearer to a dictator than an elected official.
I would take Bill Clinton back in a heartbeat. He could even put Monica in the bedroom next to his for all I care. At least Clinton had backbone. Obama is devoid of any kind of skeletal structure, symbolically speaking. He's a worm squirming in hot ashes right now....and it's all of his own making. Pootin' is simply stirring the ashes with a stick, making sure Obama gets it on all sides.
From politics to policy to administrative and on....this...in my opinion...is the absolutely worst president in the history of the country. The only question that remains is....can we survive him?
Monday, September 9, 2013
East Texas Baptist College...er...University
When I went to ETBC, I didn't know what to expect. What I did expect, was to leave there and grow up. When I attended, there were about 800 students. I don't know how many there are now, but I've learned one thing from being on the ETB Facebook site for former students. If you got hooked by the high schoolishness of the place while there...it looks like the hook went deep. I finally left the group on FB today, for it really saddens me to see how childish a lot of the people still are. (Girly voice) "Hey girls! Remember Merle Bruce Hall? The dryer was SO hot there!!" Really? Yes, I want to hear this. I'm standing on tiptoe to be regaled about the too hot dryer at this girl's dorm. Then there are the pics of those dressed up in all manner of ridiculous outfits AND being proud of it. It is a good site for requesting prayer. I found that a few of those I went to school with have either died or experienced life altering occurrences in their lives. That's a good thing that prayers are being requested and the requests are accepted.
But it is the high school nature of the conversations that gets me. I understand we were all young and did stupid things and acted childishly. But I don't revel in it. As everybody does, I like to reminisce. Yet, it seems to me the majority of these people never grew up. Or, if they did...which I doubt...it doesn't show on this site. I just shake my head at the ridiculous nature of some of the posts. I think, "Have they ever LEFT?" I thought it might be cool to pick up on long lost friends, but that isn't what this site is about...I suppose.
Don't get me wrong. If you are on this site and you like it...no harm no foul. And, if you don't like that I didn't like it...I don't care. ETBC or U or whatever it's called now, is a distant memory of my past that I seldom reflect on. It was filled with wannabe preachers that were dying of terminal righteousness and preacher/deacon/missionary daughters who were so frigid (most, anyway) that when you went out with one of them it was like being with a statue. (If you aren't a preacher/deacon/missionary daughter, and I went out with you...that statement doesn't apply to you). I took this one girl to a Carpenter's concert in Longview. She had lived most of her life in Indonesia and was a child of a missionary couple. It was one of the most grating date experiences of my life. I think she said two words.
Being a licensed minister, I quickly decided I didn't want to be like any of the preacher boys there. Most of them weren't 'real' in my eyes, and aren't to this day. I did see where many of them are still in the ministry, and I'm glad. That only means they learned to play the game as a career, and did not learn it's a calling. Blanket statement? You betcha. Because that's all I saw while I was there. I wear the Black Sheep badge with pride. I didn't go to chapel like the rest of the lambs, because I never have believed, and still don't, that anyone should be MADE to go to church. I also never got reprimanded for it, even after one of my friends turned me in. ETBC or U or whatever they call it, seemed to be a black hole for juveniles to retain their juvenile thought processes. At least from what I've observed on the FB site. My time at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary was better spent, as well as my time at Lamar University. For some reason, they were more interested in teaching you what you came there to learn, instead of dressing you up like little Miss Muffet or Tom the Beanie Boy and having get togethers to discuss the latest cookie social.
If you liked going there, I'm glad. If you like continuing to live there, I'm glad. I really am. I thank God that I've left it behind. I made a couple of great friends there that I still keep in contact with. And, that's enough for me. When I was a child, I was involved with childish things. When I became a man...well, you know the rest. To me, it seems a lot of people haven't made the transition.
But it is the high school nature of the conversations that gets me. I understand we were all young and did stupid things and acted childishly. But I don't revel in it. As everybody does, I like to reminisce. Yet, it seems to me the majority of these people never grew up. Or, if they did...which I doubt...it doesn't show on this site. I just shake my head at the ridiculous nature of some of the posts. I think, "Have they ever LEFT?" I thought it might be cool to pick up on long lost friends, but that isn't what this site is about...I suppose.
Don't get me wrong. If you are on this site and you like it...no harm no foul. And, if you don't like that I didn't like it...I don't care. ETBC or U or whatever it's called now, is a distant memory of my past that I seldom reflect on. It was filled with wannabe preachers that were dying of terminal righteousness and preacher/deacon/missionary daughters who were so frigid (most, anyway) that when you went out with one of them it was like being with a statue. (If you aren't a preacher/deacon/missionary daughter, and I went out with you...that statement doesn't apply to you). I took this one girl to a Carpenter's concert in Longview. She had lived most of her life in Indonesia and was a child of a missionary couple. It was one of the most grating date experiences of my life. I think she said two words.
Being a licensed minister, I quickly decided I didn't want to be like any of the preacher boys there. Most of them weren't 'real' in my eyes, and aren't to this day. I did see where many of them are still in the ministry, and I'm glad. That only means they learned to play the game as a career, and did not learn it's a calling. Blanket statement? You betcha. Because that's all I saw while I was there. I wear the Black Sheep badge with pride. I didn't go to chapel like the rest of the lambs, because I never have believed, and still don't, that anyone should be MADE to go to church. I also never got reprimanded for it, even after one of my friends turned me in. ETBC or U or whatever they call it, seemed to be a black hole for juveniles to retain their juvenile thought processes. At least from what I've observed on the FB site. My time at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary was better spent, as well as my time at Lamar University. For some reason, they were more interested in teaching you what you came there to learn, instead of dressing you up like little Miss Muffet or Tom the Beanie Boy and having get togethers to discuss the latest cookie social.
If you liked going there, I'm glad. If you like continuing to live there, I'm glad. I really am. I thank God that I've left it behind. I made a couple of great friends there that I still keep in contact with. And, that's enough for me. When I was a child, I was involved with childish things. When I became a man...well, you know the rest. To me, it seems a lot of people haven't made the transition.
Monday, September 2, 2013
Labor Day
Ah, yes. The day we rest and take time out to reflect on the social and economic achievements of American workers. Let's take a look at a few of them.
Unions have priced themselves out of a job and want to blame everybody but THEM. Pension packages can't be sustained, trade for their products is down because the bottom line is so high, and cities like Detroit look like Baghdad after 'shock and awe'.
Fast food joints are under fire because their CEO's went to college, got a degree, worked their way up the ladder and now make squillions of dollars. Their workers have low paying jobs that were never meant to be family sustaining or career oriented, yet they want to be paid where a hamburger and fries will cost as much as a meal in a sit-down restaurant.
American workers are being forced to pay for those who won't, and for some reason the government thinks every lazy sycophant in this country needs to be taken care of on our backs. We have to pay for their housing, their food, their clothes, their pre-natal and post-natal care as they pop kid after kid into the world. We have to pay for everybody's medical care and dental care and eye care and anal care. And don't ever be so racist as to mention that before anyone gets welfare they have to take a drug test!
Millions of Americans live in economically depressed cities and instead of taking on the American pioneer mentality and pulling up stakes to build a new life where it's not so bad, they would rather march and protest and call on the government to take care of them. People are so ensconced into their comfort zone they don't think they should ever have to leave it. I'm glad the first settlers here didn't think like that. I'm sure the Indians wish they had.
What is your lot in the American workforce? Are you even IN the American work force? When you look at your paycheck, does it make you want to celebrate your economic achievements? If not, then do something about it and don't wait on the government. All we are to them is cattle to feed on by extracting more and more from the rewards we earn by the sweat of our brow.
Instead of whining about racial inequality, economic disparity and social indifference...pick yourself up, put on your work boots and strive for what you want and believe you deserve. This is still the land of opportunity for those who will work for it. For those who lay around waiting for it to come to them, they are the arsenic in the pie who suck the juice from the fruit of our labor. We are spiraling, in flames, down to the pit of becoming a nanny state. Yet, there are people out there who still poo-poo that things are bad or will get worse. They live in a bubble of contentment that will soon be burst by the very ones they trust in.
So, have fun today at your bar-b-que and beach party. You should, if you earned it. If you got the meat through food stamps? You're welcome.
Unions have priced themselves out of a job and want to blame everybody but THEM. Pension packages can't be sustained, trade for their products is down because the bottom line is so high, and cities like Detroit look like Baghdad after 'shock and awe'.
Fast food joints are under fire because their CEO's went to college, got a degree, worked their way up the ladder and now make squillions of dollars. Their workers have low paying jobs that were never meant to be family sustaining or career oriented, yet they want to be paid where a hamburger and fries will cost as much as a meal in a sit-down restaurant.
American workers are being forced to pay for those who won't, and for some reason the government thinks every lazy sycophant in this country needs to be taken care of on our backs. We have to pay for their housing, their food, their clothes, their pre-natal and post-natal care as they pop kid after kid into the world. We have to pay for everybody's medical care and dental care and eye care and anal care. And don't ever be so racist as to mention that before anyone gets welfare they have to take a drug test!
Millions of Americans live in economically depressed cities and instead of taking on the American pioneer mentality and pulling up stakes to build a new life where it's not so bad, they would rather march and protest and call on the government to take care of them. People are so ensconced into their comfort zone they don't think they should ever have to leave it. I'm glad the first settlers here didn't think like that. I'm sure the Indians wish they had.
What is your lot in the American workforce? Are you even IN the American work force? When you look at your paycheck, does it make you want to celebrate your economic achievements? If not, then do something about it and don't wait on the government. All we are to them is cattle to feed on by extracting more and more from the rewards we earn by the sweat of our brow.
Instead of whining about racial inequality, economic disparity and social indifference...pick yourself up, put on your work boots and strive for what you want and believe you deserve. This is still the land of opportunity for those who will work for it. For those who lay around waiting for it to come to them, they are the arsenic in the pie who suck the juice from the fruit of our labor. We are spiraling, in flames, down to the pit of becoming a nanny state. Yet, there are people out there who still poo-poo that things are bad or will get worse. They live in a bubble of contentment that will soon be burst by the very ones they trust in.
So, have fun today at your bar-b-que and beach party. You should, if you earned it. If you got the meat through food stamps? You're welcome.
Sunday, September 1, 2013
Stung But Not Defeated
Every kid growing up needs to get stung by something....at least a few times. Pain is a great teacher, and when that pain is coupled with a creature that is two hundred times smaller than you and shows no signs of being afraid of that fact, it's even a better teacher.
I've been stung by a lot of things. Fire ants are the worst. This is the only villain I've encountered that has radio communications. If you get into them, they don't start stinging you right away. Oh no. They wait until a whole division has hit the 'beach' and then signal for the simultaneous attack. I've never come out of a pair of pants as quickly as I have when those critters got hold of me. It's an humbling experience.
Wasps are the second worst. I've been stung by the 'red devils', the 'black bottoms' and the guinea wasps. I've been hit by bumblebees, yellow jackets, honey bees and those green and black striped ground hornets.
I've been stung by asps...I hate asps.
I haven't been bitten by too many things. I've been dog bit, cat bit, lizard bit, ferret bit (my brother used to have ferrets...mean little critters), bird bit, human bit (in a fight long ago), fish bit, but never snake bit. Except in life, of course.
There are many lessons one can learn through the experience. One, no matter how big your opponent, you still might be able to whip him out of his pants. Two, no matter how many opponents there are trying to kill you with their poison, you may still come out alive. Three, sometimes, when confronted with superior numbers intent on your personal destruction; the best decision is to run like hell. Four, Watkins Liniment will dull the enduring pain. Five, that which does not kill you REALLY is what makes you stronger. Six, you realize that you can lose the battle, but still win the war. (i.e. pouring gasoline on the offending fire ant bed). Seven, you learn to recognize people who've never been stung in life. They fly off at the slightest thing...are angry about the smallest inconvenience... and they wonder why the world doesn't bow at their feet.
Being stung teaches us to respect others, no matter their stature in society. He who may not appear as one who can assist you on your path, might turn out to be your greatest benefactor...or worst enemy. Don't judge magnitude by its literal size. Just because its small, doesn't mean it isn't worth your attention. Be stung...but not defeated.
I've been stung by a lot of things. Fire ants are the worst. This is the only villain I've encountered that has radio communications. If you get into them, they don't start stinging you right away. Oh no. They wait until a whole division has hit the 'beach' and then signal for the simultaneous attack. I've never come out of a pair of pants as quickly as I have when those critters got hold of me. It's an humbling experience.
Wasps are the second worst. I've been stung by the 'red devils', the 'black bottoms' and the guinea wasps. I've been hit by bumblebees, yellow jackets, honey bees and those green and black striped ground hornets.
I've been stung by asps...I hate asps.
I haven't been bitten by too many things. I've been dog bit, cat bit, lizard bit, ferret bit (my brother used to have ferrets...mean little critters), bird bit, human bit (in a fight long ago), fish bit, but never snake bit. Except in life, of course.
There are many lessons one can learn through the experience. One, no matter how big your opponent, you still might be able to whip him out of his pants. Two, no matter how many opponents there are trying to kill you with their poison, you may still come out alive. Three, sometimes, when confronted with superior numbers intent on your personal destruction; the best decision is to run like hell. Four, Watkins Liniment will dull the enduring pain. Five, that which does not kill you REALLY is what makes you stronger. Six, you realize that you can lose the battle, but still win the war. (i.e. pouring gasoline on the offending fire ant bed). Seven, you learn to recognize people who've never been stung in life. They fly off at the slightest thing...are angry about the smallest inconvenience... and they wonder why the world doesn't bow at their feet.
Being stung teaches us to respect others, no matter their stature in society. He who may not appear as one who can assist you on your path, might turn out to be your greatest benefactor...or worst enemy. Don't judge magnitude by its literal size. Just because its small, doesn't mean it isn't worth your attention. Be stung...but not defeated.
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