Ma, Batten Down Dem Shutters! De Be A Storm Comin!

Over there! See ‘em? See those clouds forming to the South? Yep, there’s a major storm coming that rears its ugly head every year at this time. Some refer to it as a mini-Civil War – pitting brother against brother and dividing even the closest of family and friends. Many look at its activity as a true religion, turning the most spiritually sound to the practice of worshiping false gods. People have been shot, new relationships have ended, and divorce proceedings have been filed more during this yearly activity than at any other time.

This storm that I speak of is better known as college football!

You see by living in the South, there is nothing more noticeable than the way that folks tend to live, breathe, and eat all matters that deal with college football. And though more obvious when the season comes around, many will talk, argue, and proudly display their fandom throughout the entire year – flying flags, plastering their vehicles with magnetic stickers, or even updating the rooms in their homes dedicated solely toward their favorite team. And if that’s not enough, children and pets have been named after coaches or players, and engagements or weddings have taken place either on the schools grounds or even within the teams’ stadiums – all in an effort to include some type of a remembrance of their team.

Now for the most part, it’s not a bad thing to support ones team. That good conversation between fans or to constantly back your favorite team is a good way to socialize. However, some DO take this a bit further - making some walk precariously between what’s really right and important in life, compared to what isn’t.

In my latest book, ‘George’ – one that deals with its main character having to go through an ‘exit interview’ before being decided whether to enter Heaven or Hell – his interviewer conducts the exam by correlating Georges’ past life with the Ten Commandments. And it’s through this conversation where I tried to express one of my concerns on some of this fanatical activity:

 “Were there any types of rituals that you did, say…before, during, or after one of those games, George? Maybe in hopes that WHATEVER it was that that it would help your team win?”

George looked down and shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “Well, I guess so,” he replied. “You see, before going into the stadium I would casually stand in front of a statue - one of a past coach - say a little prayer, and then leave a pom-pom at its base. By doing that, it just seemed that my team either won more often! Worked like a charm!” George stated a bit proudly.

           

“Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them or serve them…. Graven image? What part of that don’t you understand, George?” cracked Hutchins. “A bit of a ‘fine line’, don’t ya think?”

Surprised by the response, George sat back in his chair and thought. “Really? I mean, it was only a football game.”

“And I bet you had a room dedicated in your house for that team of yours, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Did you have another room in your house dedicated to God?”

So folks, just think about it. I guess the best ‘food for thought’ is to prioritize what REALLY is important in your lives and not let things you can’t really control take the best of you – spiritually. Try to remember that life and love is worth more than any team, player, or coach. That if you take the time to go to a football game – or to watch one – on Saturday, then you have plenty of time to consider going to Church, reading a spiritual book, or even volunteering on Sunday.

But anyway for now, enjoy the season! I love college football myself and can totally relate to all who follow it.

And as for what’s starting to form along the horizon? As a boy in the country might scream to his mother from the fields, ‘Ma, batten down dem shutters! De be a storm comin!’  

Self-promotion. It's Not Gloating, It's Marketing!

If I was living my perfect world, it would consist of having an agent, a publisher, doing book signings on a regular basis, and maybe supplying a syndicated column on a weekly basis. However, I am just among the millions of other writers that are trying to get their message… their thoughts… their creative vision out to the masses. For alas, I am just another self-published, independent writer who is cutting a path through the jungle of pages written by others – in hopes to one day be accepted; for my written stories to be verified.

To date, over 500,000 new titles are entered into places such as Amazon, Barnes&Nobles, CreateSpace, Smashwords, Wavecloud, and Goodreads every month. And with numbers like that, you can imagine the difficulties one faces whenever self-publishing their work. Add into that – since most indie writers have fulltime jobs, families, and the like – that it becomes a daily challenge to not only do the entire marketing of their wares, but also to find the time to write even more. Personally, I have accumulated to date over six book ideas; all of which can’t find the time to write.

Each author in that predicament spends hours of their own time using social media as if it were their very own lifeblood. Posting non-stop on sites such as Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Goodreads, Instagram, and many others – all in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, someone will find interest in their title, their cover, their storyline, their genre and eventually check out that authors’ ‘masterpiece’. Dropping all pride aside – while not trying to make everyone tired of his or her self-promotion – they know that by doing this that it would be the ONLY way to share their latest endeavor.

Recently my wife, Lisa, made the remark that I am someone who HAS to have constant attention. When asking her why she indicated such – to me a hurtful statement - her response was something like ‘Well, you have so many fan pages. I always see your multitude of posts on Twitter, LinkedIn, and Facebook. You have an assortment of websites and NOW your blog!’

Needless to say, this hit a nerve. You see, as a child in middle school, since doing things like drawing pictures for teachers and/or playing the piano at events, fellow classmates were calling me ‘conceded’ and that I was full of myself – which was SO far from the truth since having the insecurities associated with artists.

I told her that all of those things she had seen posted from me WEREN’T to gloat, but to market. Market my books. Market my music. In fact, market anything that I could to help find interested folks who would enjoy those things. It was also during this conversation, I shared that since being an independent author that unfortunately no one was going spend the time or the effort to spread the word – which it was up to me, and only me. In conclusion, I then informed her of the old adage ‘It’s harder to market a book than it is to write one’. And man, how true is that!

Anyway, such is the life of an indie author/self-published writer. We write for the pure enjoyment of writing because we know that any funds will be hard to come by – at least for a while. We are all hoping for contracts from publishers and movie studios, and hope that our names become associated with the likes of Clancy, Sparks, Steele, and King. And though writings of that caliber are probably already available, due to the multitude of titles out there, the sad truth is that many of those words will never be read.

Oh, do you know that you can get ‘Just A Song Before I Go’ and ‘George’ in both paperback and for E-book? They are both garnering 4-5 star reviews, and both picking up speed. Get YOURS Today :)

Okay… so what did you expect? If ever faced with the opportunity, you have to self-promote. 

The Poot Pedal! This Poot's For You!

I want to take this blogging opportunity to acknowledge a great addition to all cars since the bright beam button moved to the steering wheel. And also note those creative engineers - whoever they may be – that came up with this GREAT, USEFUL element. Of course what I’m talking about is none other than the Poot Pedal! Okay, so I don’t know the developers name for this - and whether it may be German, Japanese, or even English - but I call it for what it is … The Poot Pedal!

Now, I’m sure that you know which ‘pedal’ that I’m referring to. It’s that solid pedal area that is located to the far left on the floorboard; next to the brake pedal. And no, it’s not the emergency brake pedal, since that is either located in the console or maybe a few inches above the floor. This is the pedal that usually has rubber on its top layer and its base is solid. Yep… the Poot Pedal!

Since driving such long distances to-and-from work on a daily basis, I have come to use that pedal quite often – especially after having either Mexican food, eating chicken, or even beans the nights before. And it’s become a REAL lifesaver in terms of my social life.

Never used the pedal before? Well, let me share the proper way.

When feeling the urge, securely place your left foot upon its top. Then slowly stretch out your left leg till it is extended fully – while at the same time raising up your body about a couple of inches (or high enough to fully release). This way you can let it rip discreetly (without being noticed by nosey, fellow drivers). Now poot! And for all of those who don’t know what ‘poot’ means - in other words, ‘flatulence’, ‘breaking wind’, ‘cutting the cheese’ or ‘passing gas’.  Poot!

See? The Poot Pedal! And if done correctly – and often enough – both you and those you might be meeting shortly thereafter will truly be appreciative.

What a great innovation from those fine folks who designed our vehicles! What creativity and useful ingenuity!

So in closing, I just wanted to send some kudos as well as give praise for this item that is probably overlooked on a regular basis.

And the next time I have the urge to use the Poot Pedal – but before releasing - I will make sure to proudly proclaim to those unsung developers, ‘Hey guys! This Poot’s for you!’

However let me warn you - careful on the amount of pressure you wish to use when using the Poot Pedal. For if you push on the ‘pedal’ too powerfully, you might have another matter to deal with!

Me? A Walmart greeter? Hmmmm

So, this past weekend my wife and I started to talk about how to gather funds for our impending retirement – a conversation that we have had many times before. And it was during our discussion that she matter-of-factly stated that due to my bloodline that the odds were greatly in my favor of living longer that she. You see, my grandfather lived past 104 years, and most of my extended family are still around – which pretty much equates to me being on this rock a bit longer. And so, needless to say, I had to think a bit selfishly as to how I could bring in additional income in my golden years.

At first my thoughts quickly turned to being one of those Walmart greeters. You know, one of those folks who stand stoically at the entrance of each store; checking receipts and saying ‘hello’ to those who enter?

Then it hit me! What other profession could I have that would call for an immediate need and service, without a lot of competition from other seniors? What offerings could I give being such a ripe old age? In fact, what type of employment would accept not only my extreme years but also my ancient appearance? Well, none other than that of being a senior citizen GIGOLO!

Yeah… just think about it! To start, the competition would be close to zilch – putting the amount of available clientele out of the roof. Then with the accessibility of that wonder drug, Viagra… well, needless to say – though most of the body might be worn, that offering would be constant! And as for incorporating the ‘greeter’ roll into the services, it makes for the perfect opportunity to hand out business cards to possible clients. It’s would be a win-win situation!

I’m thinking the ‘look’ would consist of white shoes, white belt, plaid pants, silk buttoned-down shirt, and that thing around the neck called an ascot. Whatcha think?

Man… this could go international! I could even franchise out! The possibilities are endless!

Of course the last thing I would EVER want is for my wife, Lisa, to leave me. However, if it came to the point when I had to live my final days by myself… well then, watch out female AARP members! One day you might just get a knock on YOUR door!

Steve

Though five years and a few months ago, it still seems like yesterday. For it was in April of 2009 that my brother, Steve, took his life. And I guess that I only mention it at this time due to the recent measures that led to the passing of the talented Robin Williams.

You see, whenever losing someone to suicide, it’s events such as the ending of Mr. Williams life that bring back the memories of the hurt, anger, and shock I felt when it happened to our family. When it happened … to me.

The guilt. The questions. Man… all those self-evaluating questions. “Could I have done something different?” “What ‘sign’ didn’t I notice?” “When did I let my brother down?” And I guess it’s always that later that pains me the most.

Of course, everyone will tell you that once someone makes up their minds to end their life that there is really nothing you can do – that dwelling on questions or feelings like mentioned earlier is just a waste of time. And I know that that is the case, but still one can’t help but to wonder and beat themselves up.

Death in itself is tragic. It’s never easy to lose anyone – whether from old age, illness, an accident, or whatever. Never. However, I feel that when an act like suicide is the cause, then it just seems to hurt a bit more - more because it addresses your own caring nature. That instinctive ability that each of us has to help our fellow man.

As for the recent passing of Mr. Williams, I guess it just shows to the masses that no matter how someone may seem on the outside, it’s not necessarily the case on the inside. And, as well, this could really be a lesson for all of us living today. The lesson to never assume that everyone is ‘fine’ and that their lives are without problems. Reminds me of the old Smokey Robinson song ‘The Tears of a Clown’ - The tears of a clown\when there's no one around.

But anyway… for the masses mourning right now, eventually the vigils will cease and the news coverage will fade. And soon, the memories of such a great and talented artist will only become – for most - flickers on small and large screens.

However for Robin Williams’ family and friends – much like those who knew my brother, Steve – the pain will never go away.  There will always be the questions, the hurt, the anger, as well as the disbelief. There will always be… There will always be…

And so just a thought, folks – if you notice that someone may be a bit standoffish, depressed, introverted, troubled in ANY WAY, make the first move and talk to them. Feel them out to make sure all is good. Look past the façade – that fake smile they might have plastered on their face – and try to search deeper within their hearts.

You might be glad that you did, and they as well.   

http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org  or call 1-800-273-8255.