Monday, December 10, 2012

I sent the following to my Uncle Roger in answer to his questions. He is English but very interested in our politics.

Very good observations, but mine don't exactly match up.

1.       You mention that we are divided between extremes. I don't necessarily agree. Don't listen to just the rhetoric. Our system is set up that way, the checks and balances and divided government stops the tyranny of the majority. If you look at the numbers and facts the two sides are not that far apart. Obama has continued almost all of George Bush’s foreign policies. We still have GITMO, still conducting Drone attacks. The only difference is tone and nuance. As for domestic policies, we still collect the same intelligence, same immigration policy, etc. On the fiscal side we are arguing about the top tax rate being 39.5% vice 36%. We’re arguing over taxes being 24% of GDP vice 22%. Those are not extremes. Not really.

2.       As for Obama getting re-elected. Everyone forgets the power of Incumbency. A little remembered fact. Only once in our entire history has a party and new president lost the popular vote after only four years. (Jimmy Carter, which tells you a lot about Regan). The other times, Polk didn’t run, and Cleveland won the popular vote but lost the electoral college (6 new states). Presidents and or parties are almost always given the full eight years. It takes that long for them to piss everyone off enough that they get thrown out. This was why I was so hesitant about Romney winning, despite the atrocious economic situation.

3.       As for the parties always fielding an Ethic candidate. Every election is different. It always comes down to the candidates themselves and the times they are in. Who can energize his/her own base while removing a few from the other parties base. Or at least convincing them not to vote.

4.       Romney was a middle of the road business man who governed a very liberal state. While there, he established a record that was way less than conservative. He didn’t energize his base. And Obama locked his base in. The democrats waged a very hard and very negative campaign and it worked. Romney got about the same as McCain from 4 years earlier, Obama got 6 million less, but hung on.

5.       A 400K swing distributed through six key states would have swung it for the republicans. In all honesty, if Romney had been African-American I don’t think it would have made a difference. He might have picked up some minority vote, but might have lost some white vote.

6.       (Very General Statement) The democrats are made up mostly, Unions, Young Unmarried Women, Minorities. The republicans are made up of Fiscal Conservatives, Strong Defense, Evangelical (social Conservative).

7.       The voting pattern of minorities is not only because of the candidate’s ethnicity, but his policies. Bill Clinton got huge amounts of African-American voters. It was because he connected with them. George Bush got more than normal Mexican-American voters because of his efforts and policies. Not a majority, but more than either McCain or Romney. What I’m trying to say is that Policies and communication are way more important that Ethnicity, even among minorities. I will grant that it helped, but I don’t believe it was deciding factor.

8.       Your final statement about Democracy needing to work better made me smile. Who says! I think it’s working the way it is supposed to. And I’m saying this from the point of view of someone who has lost the last two elections. Not all problems need to be solved. Also, What I think is a problem may not be considered as such by others. It has a habit of evening out in the long run. I really, really think that the process is as important if not more so than the result. We just had a major argument in this country. Yelling and screaming at each other for a year. We cleared the air, some people were disappointed, some overjoyed at the results. But the main thing was it was out in the open and everyone got a chance to participate. It wasn’t thrust upon us from outside. If we don’t like the results then we’ll have to buckle down and try harder next time. I believe that the main benefit of democracy is that it doesn’t let us go too far down the wrong path. We’ll either throw the bums out, or it was the right path after all.  I think that if we had one party rule for 20 or 30 years then we would really start having problems. Some people would feel left out, not part of the system and the only way to get what they wanted would be through revolution.  

9.       Because of the divided government (House being Republican) I am pretty sure that nothing to sever will happen. We will muddle through these next four years and do it all over again. My predictions are Hillary Clinton vs. Marc Rubio. (maybe Paul Ryan)

10.   On a side note, there is a feeling starting to spread among some conservative thinking to “let it all  burn”. To give them (liberals) everything they want and let them completely ruin the economy. To raise taxes to the rate at which we are spending money, so people will feel the true pain. Only this way will the public change their minds. Others are talking about going ‘John Galt” (Anne Rand) and checking out of the system. Not working as hard, not starting or expanding business, not risking capital. If the government is only going to take it and redistribute it then why try. If this becomes a movement then the economy is really screwed. I don’t think this will really happen that much, but it’s starting and will depend on how bad it gets. Scary but interesting idea??

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Heaven is; having the Italian designing your cloths and the Germans building your cars.  It's having the French as your chef and the Swiss as your lawyer. It's having the British in charge of your police force and the Americans in charge of your army.


Hell is; the Swiss designing your cloths and the Americans building your cars. It's having the British preparing your food and the Italians for a lawyer. It's having the French in charge of your army and the Germans in charge of your police force.

Friday, October 5, 2012

Different types of "Time Travel" stories

Different types of “Time Travel” books
There are six basics types of time travel books. Obviously each is different, but that is story, that is plot. They fall into one of the following categories

- Old to Modern (Encino Man, Kate and Leopold)
- Modern to Old (Bill and Ted’s excellent adventure, Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s court)
- Modern to Future (Time Machine, Back to the Future)
- Future to Modern (Time travelers Wife, Millennium)
- Future to Old (Ancient Visitor’s delivering knowledge to set humans on the path of civilization)
- Old to Future (Think Caveman on a space ship)

There are many sub-categories. Each Sub Category can be used in any type.

- Juxtaposition – Unsophisticated man in a sophisticated setting or vice versa (fish out of water)
- Change – Changing an environment by outside actions.
- Observation – Seeing a world through new eyes
- Paradox – Self fulfilling prophesy

When you add Genre such as Mystery, Romance, Thriller, Young Adult, etc., You can see the endless possibilities.

Basically, each story is setting different values, different rule sets, into conflict with each other. It is this conflict that allows us to explore the meaning of our world. To compare and contrast and ultimately to judge.

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Ideas for a Story


- THEIR’s NOW - Indestructible Aliens land and take over a small NW timber town along with the rest of the world. A bunch of kids escape to the woods and must learn to work together to survive. The Outcast must learn to lead the popular kids in taking care of the weaker while taking on the menace from the stars. (Red Dawn meets Predator)


- DEMON’s NIGHTMARE - Michael and Lucifer must battle once again for the earth’s very soul. Unfortunately, Michael is more interested in partying than in preparing for battle. To top it off, he has chosen bad boy Landon Marshall to help him. Landon refuses to follow orders and is determined to fight god every step of the way. Thankfully Ms. Ann Tudor is there to keep him on the straight and narrow and lead him in a quest for the weapons Michael will need.


- THE RELUCTANT DUKE - Set in Regency England. A wounded soldier returning from Waterloo is unexpectedly promoted to Duke, his derelict household is being taken care of by a mysterious twenty three year old house keeper with more secrets than Napoleon. He doesn’t want the title, she can’t live without the job and the hiding place it offers. How do these two people face the realities of their new environment? Can they flaunt society’s rules and establish their own.


- WARRIOR SCHOOL – In a dystopian future the Warrior School is Jason’s only way out of the fields and to a higher status. Everything is against his being accepted into the school, let alone graduating. He risks all to help two other young people escape the enclave and travel across the wilderness of the ancients.


- ANGEL’s PREY – What happens when a man meets an Angel that turns out to be a real Angel. She’s on the run from a false charge of heresy and god refuses to get involved in her case. She’s free game to the devil and his demons. Anything goes. What does it do to a man’s ego when his girl friend is faster, stronger, more deadly than he is?


- WORTH SAVING - Kris Robertson must learn how to be with other people. Five years after the plague he has come to the abandoned city to find others like him, human and alone. He is forced to create a family of the disposed who help him build a paradise on the roof tops. Of course, Others want what he has and are willing to kill to take it. (Swiss Family Robinson meets Lord of the Flies)


- WORTH FIGHTING FOR – Hector’s Story – Twelve years after Worth Saving, Hector travels in search of answers, Why did the plague happen, why did some survive and not others, what will they do if it comes back. Hector wanders the land alone in permanent search for answers but becomes dejected and a hard bitter man. His world is saved and given meaning when he is forced to rescue Meagan and her brother. Hector must decide whether to stop searching and learn to accept the answers in front of him.

Friday, August 31, 2012

Relaying information is not the same thing as relaying emotion. One of the first lessons I learned about communicating was from the movie “STRATEGIC COMMAND” with James Stewart. Jimmy is in an airplane crash in Greenland while his wife June Allison is having a babe. He is rescued and receives a telegram telling him that the baby has arrived and June wanted to know what to name it. Jimmy replies, “I can’t think of anything. But hope everything is fine.” June receives it as “I can’t think of anything but Hope. Everything is fine.” So of course she names the baby Hope, luckily it was a girl. Putting that period in a different spot changes the meaning and therefore the results. I have been trained for 30+ years to relay (communicate) information. To eliminate ambiguity and to be precise in what I say. I have been taught to remove emotion and judgmental words from my correspondence. As a result it is hard for me to not over describe. To assume the reader will get what I mean. Because of this, It gets boring. I am aware of it and working on it.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Finished writing "WORTH SAVING" 68K word young adult dystopian novel. Five years after a plague has swept away most of mankind. 18 year old Kris Robertson leaves his mountain top farm and travels to the deserted city to find others. He ends up establishing a safe haven for a few remaining survivors. They build a world on the roof tops away from the wild animals and the raiders wanting to enslave them. Or as my wife Shelley likes to say. Your typical two worlds colliding and all hell breaking lose. I have given it to a couple of people as beta readers and will edit it again when I get their comments back.

Monday, June 18, 2012

The First A weird combination of advances in thermal fusion phased propulsion and cryogenic nanotechnology made it possible for Man to reach the stars, not men, but a Man, me! I was the lucky one shooting towards the edge of the solar system. The guy who would spend the next 200 years sleeping the sleep of the dead, waiting to be pulled back into the realm of reality called now. The computer chimed, “You’ve Got Mail,” with that cutesy familiar female voice. (I know, I know, but I set it up the messaging system that way on purpose. My own internal joke.) I hit the accept button and an old guy appeared on the screen. It might not be appropriate to call the President of the United States ‘Old guy’ but that’s what he is, let’s be honest here. The President started talking, his prepared remarks had been prepared months ago, I’m sure. Politicians never missed a golden opportunity to brag about what they had done for society and how they were responsible for making history. I listened to him drone on about me doing something everyone wished they could do. How I would be the first person to visit the stars. Yada yada, yada. I laughed out loud when he said I would rank up there with Columbus, Magellan, and Armstrong. I mean that was going over the top a little don’t you think. All I do is sleep for 200 years and wake up at a new planet. Or not wake up, in which case it doesn’t really matter and screw em all. I sent my pre-prepared statement thanking everyone for the opportunity to risk my life. Then promised to do my best for God and country, and finished it with a P.S. asking them to tell Maggie that I loved her. That should keep them confused for a while, there is no Maggie, and never was. I just like the idea of driving them crazy trying to figure it out. I sat there while the computer processed the check off lists for the dozenth time. I knew it would be a few more hours before it got to me and another couple of hours before I was under. Let’s say six hours, tops. No way could a message get to earth and they answer back in that time. So that was it then, no more communications with humans. Two hundred years from now I’d pop out orbiting some cold heartless stone circling a strange star. Or at least we assumed it might be lifeless just like they assumed I’d wake up. They’d studied the thing for years. It was the right distance from the right kind of star. The planet had the correct mass with a medium moon, signs of water, etc. Everything you needed for life, but still it was in doubt. They’d called it X37N at first; the computers had found it and cataloged it before we humans even got involved in the process. People wanted to name it New Terra or Terra Nova, some boring thing like that. But the first thing I did when I got there was going to be to rename it something else. Some obscure word that made thirteen year old boys snicker every time they said it. At Twenty Eight light years, it was relatively close. No signs of industry, no radio waves, a rather pristine atmosphere. But a lot could happen in two hundred and twenty eight years (28 years for light/info to travel to us, 200 years for me to travel there). Look at us, in the early 1700’s the British Navy was chasing Blackbeard around the Carolinas with muzzle loaded blunder busses, two hundred and twenty eight years later we’re dropping atomic bombs from 20,000 feet . What I’m saying is, there was no telling what I was getting myself into. But there never is with things like this, that’s why they call it an adventure. The computer beeped three times and a green light flashed an intermittent beat. It mesmerized me for a second, but then went off and stayed off and I was able to break my mind away and return to day dreaming. My mind drifted back to a particular famous news correspondent, Geneva was a rare combo, beautiful, smart, and willing. She had finagled an interview somehow, it came down from the top, ‘You will do this’. So I did, I was never so thankful for an order in my life. We met in an upscale high priced bar, not my kind of place, but she was buying. I watched all the men forget to close their mouths when she walked in sexy as hell and all the women, well let’s just say that if looks could kill, she’d have been dead a hundred years before she was born. It didn’t seem to bother her in the least. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that walk as she sauntered over to my table, her hips making figures eights as they swished back and forth. A devastating smile and flirty eyes completed the job. A man could get lost and forget about god and country just looking into those eyes. I could see why she was so good at her job; she must have had politicians begging to tell her their secrets. We spent a few minutes getting to know each other before she led right into the interview part. “So why did you volunteer for this mission,” She asked, taking out a small notebook and pen and then looking at me with those flirty eyes. What was I going to do tell her the truth? Are you crazy? I couldn’t tell her that every space jokey had to volunteer because if you didn’t, you couldn’t stay a space jokey for long. Instead I told her about god and country. She looked at me like she knew I was lying, but shrugged her shoulder as if she decided not to push it, yet! “So what most excites you about this?” She asked, staring at me with a look that dared for me to lie to her again. I couldn’t thing of a plausible lie, and the truth would make her laugh at me, a thought that could shrivel a man’s insides. Instead I shrugged my shoulders and said “I don’t know”. She shook her head and then put the pad and pen on the table before reaching over and holding my hand. “Let’s put the interview on hold for now, everything off the record and treat this like a first date,” she said in the whispery voice she has. So we spent an enjoyable few hours getting to know each other before heading back to my place for three days of unbelievable physical activity. We were lying in bed after a particularly stressful few hours, both of us trying to catch our breath and our bearings. “Tell me a secret about yourself, something no one else knows, and I’ll tell you everything,” I blurted out without thinking. She was quiet for a long time and then said, “I wanted to be the last women you slept with before you went to the stars. I wanted to know that long after I am dead, you might think of me,” She said, a pretty blush filled her face and gorgeous chest. She turned her head to hide her eyes. God women a cute when they are embarrassed. I smiled and assured her it was OK. (I was hoping for a rematch). My hands slipped behind my head as I stared at the ceiling. “I want to be first, to do something no one else has done, or as Capt Kirk used to say, ‘To go where no man has gone before’. I want to be the guy who names things, Lovell got to do it on the back side of the moon, Cook, Columbus, Magellan. I want to do the same but there’s not a lot of opportunity around here.” I smiled and looked over to see if she was laughing. She’d turned on her side her eyes focused on me like a laser, trying to read me. I don’t know if she had fallen into her Journalist mode, but I felt OK enough to go on. Trying to lighten the mood I offered to name a mountain range after her, The Geneva Range I’d call it, somewhere with a lot of seismic activity. She laughed which led to a renewed wrestling match. .o0o. I continued to sit there, metaphorically twiddling my thumbs, waiting for the computer to finish up the ship checks and get started on me. The time seemed to drag on and on. I just wanted to get it over with, go to sleep and wake up, or not. The waiting was killing me. It’d been eighteen months of waiting since I had been selected and these last few were dragging. I don’t think I got across to Geneva just how important it was to be the first, to leave my footprints all over history. Nothing else mattered to me. I didn’t mind the idea of dying, as long as I got to be the first one there. The idea of being able to launch the seeding program was pretty neat also. It sent shivers though my guts. The thought of playing god and turning some barren rock into an Eden made me feel complete somehow, like I would be able to fulfill my destiny. Plus I got to name things, what could be cooler than that. The green lighted started flashing again followed by a gentle beep. “Ship’s checks are complete. Please prepare for personnel preparations,” The computer’s female voice cooed. This was my final chance to ‘Never mind’ and go home. It’d take a couple of years to slow down, turn around and get home, but we could do it. Once I was under, there was no going back. It was the final goodbye. I made my way over to the slumber couch, or as I called it, The Coffin. Hooked up the tubes and the computer did its thing. Two hours later it was time, I didn’t slow play it, said the magic words and immediately started to drift out. Waking up was easier than I expected, no different than any other morning. I was a little stiff, but knew immediately where I was and why. My eyes shot to the digital clock above the hatch. Two hundred and three years. My heart began racing, I couldn’t get out of that coffin fast enough. I popped the tube connections off and crawled out. I had to grab a bulkhead to steady myself, but finally made it to the command couch, wishing for the thousandth time that there was some kind of window. “Computer, please bring up a visual of the planet,” I said, my voice shaking through my dry throat. The head-up video display squiggled into focus showing a blue planet with white puffy clouds. Odd shaped continents broke up the huge seas. My heart was about ready to jump out of my chest at the strange new world below me. Everything I needed. “You have mail,” The computer said with a bit of an attitude. Had it become sentient over the last two centuries? “Display.” A beautiful young woman with blond hair and luscious green eyes replaced the planet on the video. I breathed a sigh of relief, humans hadn’t changed, and obviously hadn’t killed themselves, granted the signal had must have left earth twenty eight years ago, but if they had gone this long that was great. It was sort of nice to know that they remembered. “Congratulations, Mr. Sinclair. Your arrival at Terra Nova is truly remarkable and to be commended.” That’s it? It seemed awfully short for a one way message. I shook my head but didn’t bother replying, my transmitting equipment was nowhere near powerful enough to reach back to earth. I returned to studying the planet below me. It took me all of two minutes to fall totally and completely in love with it. I had only… “You’ve got mail” Jesus, more congratulations, couldn’t they let a guy work. “Display.” The pretty woman came on the screen again. “Mr. Sinclair? Are you there?” She said, her eyebrows rising. …….”Oh crap,” I mumbled under my breath, a sick funny feeling made my insides turn to Jell-O. “Oh crap,” I said again, my mind searching for an explanation. “Computer respond – ‘Who are you?’ Send” Three second later the young woman smiled and said “I’m Geneva Sinclair, your great great granddaughter, welcome to Terra Nova.” I almost lost control of my insides. That would have been a real heroic moment, huh? I couldn’t get my mind around what was going on. My hands started shaking and it took everything I had not to lean over and upchuck two hundred years of bile. “They let me be the one to greet you. We’ve been looking forward to this for so long. It’s so wonderful to know that you have been successfully revived,” she said with a smile that was a dead ringer for her great great grandmother. “But…. How? …. I mean…… when…..” She continued to smile that fricken smile as she said “We got here about a hundred and twenty years ago, worm holes, My grandfather made the trip in about two weeks.” She said, like it was not big deal, crushing a man’s dreams in one simple sentence. No big deal. “But… Everything, you’ve explored the whole planet?” I asked, dreading the answer. “Oh yes, Everything’s been mapped and cataloged, new people are arriving almost every week now. The place keeps growing faster and faster. But we didn’t forget about you. Grandfather made sure of that. In fact I went to John Sinclair Jr. High School. That was neat. Don’t you think? The End

Saturday, April 28, 2012

I entered the following into a writing contest. Spring break What could be more fun than Spring break in the Florida Keys, a day trip out on a boat with four of her friends, yeah right? A simple three hour tour Tommy had called it. It’d all sounded so simple, She’d agreed to join them even though she’d been the fifth wheel, thinking it would be a good diversion and might break her out of the dark mood she was slipping into, God, what she wouldn’t give to be back on dry land and obsessing about her love life again. They’d drifted for two days now, The Caribbean sun baking them into red cinder crisps. There’d been no sight of land since two hours into the trip, a few minutes before the motor had gone out. The radio didn’t work and they were only a few sips away from being without water. Things can’t get much worse, Jenny thought. She’d spent the time sitting in the bow, trying to save energy and quietly going over her twenty two years of life. Reliving the high points, examining the regrets, trying to figure out what she would have done differently. Her mind drifted to that boy from the other night, not a boy really, a young man. So different from the boys sheknew. Brown haired and blue eyed, with a scar over his left eye. He’d seemed so different, with a quiet confidence, as if he had seen it all and yet somehow found her interesting. She only had five minutes with him before Sissy pulled her away, but she wondered if she would be thinking of those blue eyes forty years from now and what might have been. “I hope I have forty years,” she mumbled to herself. I hope I have forty days, she thought and knew if she ever had a chance like that again, she’d do everything possible to make it happen. Wow, how pathetic was that? She thought, close to death and I’m thinking about some guy I met for five minutes. She looked at her companions, Tommy and Sissy were in the middle of the boat, Sissy looked like a wreck, her fair skin blistering and covered in salty sweat. John and Marla had the back end of the boat, after three years of college, inseparable and in each other’s back pocket; they were going to die not talking to each other. It was only about an hour before sunset which meant another night of fear and dread. Jenny wondered if they’d still be alive at this time tomorrow and who’d die first? The little boat began to rock in the gentle swell. It wasn’t fair, the wind was blowing somewhere else, sending them waves, but no relief from the heat. Bored, frustrated, and getting angrier with every lurch of the boat, Jenny twisted and pulled herself up onto the bow. She shielded her eyes as she scanned the horizon. The sparkling blue water was so tempting, her throat ached and her tongue felt like it’d swollen to the size of a loaf of bread. This was their last chance; she doubted they’d make it through the night. Her eyes swept back and forth, but there was nothing, no hope. Jenny dropped her head onto her hands, and would have cried if she’d been able to. Then looking one last time, a slight movement caught her attention, doubting what she saw, losing it, and then getting it back. A small orange speck, skimming over water, was it…, could it…, Yes! A Coast Guard Helicopter, the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Standing up in the bow, bracing her knees on the gunnel, she started waving her hands, turning to make sure everyone else had seen it, needing confirmation that it wasn’t a figment of her imagination. The aircraft glided to hover forty feet up and slightly to the side, the thundering downwash raising a stinging mist that scoured her burnt skin. The beautiful machine hung there in the air for a moment and then a door slid back and a crewman stuck his head out. Wearing a helmet and darkened visor, the man looked down and smiled, giving them a quick thumbs up. Reaching out he attached a metal basket to a winch and lowered it to the water. Jenny could see him talking into a mouth piece, obviously giving directions to the pilot as the basket was dragged through the water to the edge of the boat. They decided Sissy should go up first, and the others soon followed, Tommy wanted to be last until Jenny convinced him that Sissy might need him. Finally it was Jenny’s turn. The trip up was thrilling, the sense of relief easily overpowering any trepidation. Finally she was at the doors edge and the crewman grabbed the basket and pulled her into the helicopter’s interior. Jenny watched the crewman slam the door shut as the aircraft tilted and turned for home. Jenny breathed an intense sigh of relief as she watched the crewman throw back his visor. A small wisp of brown hair fell across his forehead, almost hiding the scar above the gorgeous blue eyes. Jenny crumbled when he smiled and said, “I knew I’d get another chance.”

Thursday, March 15, 2012

Bill Baker

I would like to spend a moment remembering Bill Baker, My step father, and my mother’s best friend. Bill passed away the other day after years fighting several disabling illnesses that would have taken a lesser man far sooner than now.

Bill was a good man from a hard background. He grew poor in a tough world. One of 5 in a single woman’s household. He was a bit wild in his early years.

When I met him he was managing a fence company, basically running everything, He was dating my mom and gave me a job for a few months building fences. I learned a lot, most of all; I learned that I didn’t want to use my back to make a living.

Even though he was dating my mom, Bill laid me off when business slowed up. He could have kept me on the books a little while and screwed the company owner. But he didn’t, I always admired him for that.
He and my mother eventually got married and moved to Arizona where he started a business and ran it for 20 years until his retirement.
It was an honorable life for an honorable man.

Best of all he treated my mom and sisters with respect, It allowed me to take off and explore the world. I knew Bill was there to take care of them.

You will be missed Bill, you made a positive difference in our lives.

Thanks