A Case of Mistaken Identity

Yes, this truly happened. Shame on me for writing with my eyes closed. Names have been deleted to protect the victim.

My unsuspecting friend: So do you do bids just for Jeff, or for other people too?
me: I'm usually too busy to do them for anyone else, but the other ISS do them for whoever needs them.
Me: I'd like to bid you.
My unsuspecting friend: What for?
Me: To show you my skill at going through you from front to back, paying close attention to all of the details.
My suspecting friend: I feel creepy.

It reminds me of one time when I walked out of a public restroom and a guy outside said, "Did you notice anything strange about that bathroom?"

I said, "You know, (lightbulb) I noticed they didn't have any urinals in there." The guy nodded at me, my idiocy apparent on his face as he pointed to the women's restroom sign.

If there are two things the old R is good at, it's getting into accidents and embarrassing situations. If that doesn't call for the old 'So be it..." I don't know what does.

R.

Jock Straps and Tales of Woe

I'm not sure if you have ever considered it, but being sales support is a lot like being athletic support: both have to cover the...

But I digress. The stories are still flowing. My honey and I sat down and looked at what's needed to fill out the collection; it looks like six more stories will round it out nicely. It was a bit of a dilemma figuring out what to do because I want the collection to read like like a series of short stories, not a really bad novel. Based on that I am going to hit some obscure events that should smooth out the transitions between story clusters (like the ADIS - GBO cluster, or the TM - TTG - PTJ cluster) and to balance out the stand alone stories with the obviously followed up stories. So six more stories and it will be time to revise with a vengeance.

R.

New Story - Gambler's Luck

I have completed this beast at last, my long short-story. It came in at 7945 words, 15 pages. It was rather hellish to write, but it's gotten good responses so far. I'm so glad to be done with that one I could shake my booty like Ella Enchanted. There is love (of a sort), there is hate, there is intrigue (if you want to call it that), and there is a tower rescue (sort of, but not really). I should note that I had to stop and write another story in the middle of this one. That doesn't really matter on any level, but I wanted to make it clear, or semi-transparent at least.

R.

Lost Opportunities and Personnel Changes

Our bambino ripped us from sleep at 5:05 this morning. I laid in bed coughing because I'm down with the sickness like the guy in that song by Disturbed, keeping my honey and the baby awake until I finally decided to get up and go to work early. It is too bad I didn't just get up and write; I am making progress (too slow to call it good progress) on what I feel will be a good story, one of my best I hope. "Water over the dam or under the bridge or however you want to put it." I just have too much to write and not enough time, and when I have time I don't always use it to my advantage. My wife says that I should be grateful that I don't suffer writer's block, but not getting the stories I have written is equally frustrating in my opinion. Enough on that I suppose.

There have been some changes at the corporate beast that writes my check even as it devours the world; my moody young compadre has taken a job for one of our customers and is moving on, bringing in a new inexperienced but enthusiastic person. It will be very interesting to see how it goes. I wish I could support my family writing.

R.

I Think I'm Addicted to AFI...

Work is a super bummer. I had my annual review today. I received satisfactory remarks on every level, and it earned me my 3% cost of living raise. I imagine a CEO or regional manager making six figures coming up with the idea that a flat percentage raise was the fair way to go; that way the $16,640 forklift operator would be happy knowing that his $520 raise was actually equal to the $3,092.78 raise that went to their $100,000 dollar corporate counterpart. It's right there in the math: 3% for each of them. Just something that's on my mind today.

R.

Addendum to Conan Analysis

After working through a few more of Howard's Conan stories I have to modify my last comment on the matter. Although I feel that Conan felt strongly toward Belit, in other stories he does take to the sea again. Whether it shows him to have moved on, or that he never truly loved Belit I haven't decided. I thought I should note it, however, for any who have not read Howard's stories, or just some of them.

R.

Raised Awareness

If there is one thing that I have gained from my blogging experience it is acute sense of isolation. At first it was liberating to say what I wanted without having to look at the blank stares of rejection of incomprehension, but now I feel like I am in space, sending out signal that may or may not be received in my lifetime. Is there life out there? I don't know.

R.

Grilled Cheese, Hold the Butter...

What have you got? That's right, crispy bread wrapped around a warm piece of cheese.

R.

Short Story Collection

By the time school starts again in August I will have a decent stack of short stories written at my current pace. I'll let someone else decide whether they are good or not but so far even my most critical feedback has been good. My plan is to write all I can this summer, revise over fall or winter break, then put together a collection for interested parties. The plan is still in it's infancy, but I've had several people request it. If anyone has ideas or suggestions on how to make it feasible, feel free to comment. I worked late last night on a story that looks like it could surpass Resurrection as the longest story so far in this series, but it is hard to say until the last line is written.

R.

A Nice Walk

So today I was on my way home from work and my car died. I walked about a mile and a half home in the same scorching heat that turns grass into straw here. What a bummer.

R.

Lawns in Utah

I find it ironic that I now live in the third dryest state in the union, and people grow grass like there is water here. The city wherein I dwell sent out a flier saying to water 2-3 times a week in twenty minute intervals. I do that and my lawn is yellow and crackly. How many times a week do my neighbors water? How about 5-7 days a week, for hours at a time. I wonder if they know the difference between Utah and Tennessee, you know, precipitation. It bugs me that people throw that much water on what is ultimately a symbol of "God couldn't make it grow here, but I can." I'll keep my yellow lawn.


R.

Horsey Horsey

I was looking at a few exotic horse colorations and I found a few worth checking out, if you are into that kind of thing; black varnish roan with spotted blanket (Appaloosa), strawberry dun, blue roan, grullo, any zebra dun. Do some image searches. These colorings can turn out incredibly.

R.

Response to Queen of the Black Coast

I just read Robert E. Howard's Queen of the Black Coast as it appears in The Coming of Conan the Cimmerian and wanted to put down some thoughts. First off, I think Howard had a serious grudge against the civilization and the effects it has on mankind. In QotBC this is demonstrated in the weakness of the civilized sailors in the face of the more barbaric pirates. Of course, Conan, the most barbaric of all, commences slaying and does not cease until Belit, leader of the pirates, throws herself at Conan's feet, having decided that such a speciman must be her life mate. It is also demonstrated in the endless success of the pirates attacks on countless ships, villages, and possibly towns. Then of course the final showdown between Conan and the fallen being, an evolution a persons Howard says are as far above man as man was above ape, persons that built wonders beyond man's reach or comprehension; and yet, when the time comes the wild barbarian slays the creature and all it's servants, establishing that civilization will always fall to the natural and wild man.

My second item of note has to do with Howard's less talk, more action approach. As I read the story I felt that the relationship was one sided, with Belit deeply infatuated with Conan, while he simply was along for the ride. At one point she tells him how not even death could keep her away from him if he were in need, a foreshadowing of the help she provides him in the final battle after her death. For Conan, once his enemies are slain he takes Belit's body back down the river and once it reaches the ocean he turns the ship into a pyre and sets it out to sea. Howard then reveals something about the barbarian: the sea is now empty and dead to him. To him, the sea was Belit, and without her he had no more desire to ride it's waves in search of adventure. And so in the end Conan stands and watches his love burn until the glow of the flames dissappears. I think it is a great example of the old adage "show, don't tell".

R.

5 o'clock and all's hell

That's right. I'm still inventorying away. I hear they might provide dinner; tortilla and water or something like that. Yummy.

R.

Physical Inventory

Inventory stinks like the fist in that song by Tool. If you don't know what I mean you are probably lucky.

R.

My knees are too tender...

I could never be a salesman. What more can I say?


R.

Welcome to my Lair

I really wanted someplace where I could vent and spew my thoughts. For now, the big R welcomes you (more appropriately it could be the short r, but that is misleading as well). I will try to be objective, because I like that, but sometimes I won't be. That's just the way of it I guess.

R.