Movie review.

Posted on by

It’s Friday night and I just finished watching Soul Surfer. It is the amazing story of Bethany Hamilton. I’d seen it in the theater while visiting my mom but finally got around to watching it with my wife. It’s awesome. There’s the review. Tears, joy, God, surf, and family love.

If you have any doubts about the impact that movies have on you please find a faith based movie and watch it next. Put down the nearly worn out copy of Animal House and watch Courageous, Soul Surfer, The Passion of the Christ, To Save a Life, or any of the hundreds of movies that share faith and love as a part of their theme.

You will get up from the couch a different person. I promise.

Now, back to Netflix. I have one queued up on Hasidic Jews in America.  It’s faith night at my house.

Just how much junk can you remove from the trunk?

Posted on by

The answer is 24,000 words in the last two months. That’s what I’ve trimmed from the current manuscript. It reads just a wee bit faster these days.

Can’t quite wrap your brain around that number?  Look below the fold. Now multiply that festering pile of nonsense by a factor of 8. You can see why editing is as important as writing. The words I’ve removed/changed were as harmful to the story as if I’d just put the stuff below the fold into the book directly. Continue reading →

Does it really matter?

Posted on by

Yes, Madame Secretary of State, it does. The peasantry would like answers. Now do your job and answer our questions without the smirk on your face. You work for us. We are not your subjects. You seem to have forgotten how that relationship works. Servant should be your vocabulary word of the day.

You, Mrs. Clinton, need to come clean. I hope the ghosts of four men remind you of your duty until you quit dodging the question and provide honest answers to my elected representatives.

By the way – alluding to classified things as your out doesn’t work. Especially when it’s all predicated on lies and dishonesty. If you are still hearing “conflicting” stories this far down the road and you’re having a hard time sorting them out, give me a call. I know several honest brokers who will thin out the herd.

Dang.

Posted on by

Last night I was informed of the death of a friend. A friend I’d never met.

I work with technicians all over the country in my job but have only met a few of them over the years. For the most part they are voices on the phone. Kind voices, knowledgeable voices, angry voices, frustrated voices, and sad voices. You get to know these people pretty well when you spend hundreds of hours with them on the phone.

Sometimes they change shifts and you don’t talk to them for months. But other times, they get sick and are gone without your even being aware of it.

That’s what happened to my friend Gerry. I’ve been talking to him for years. We developed a great respect for each other and steered away from controversial topics. Polar opposites in many ways, we always enjoyed the calls. He was a consummate professional. I knew when I saw his technician number assigned to a trouble call that he’d just fix the stupid thing and call me when it was done. He was that good.

And now he’s gone. Another friend I didn’t get a chance to say my piece to in this life. Well, there’s a chance that someone out there knows his wife or his family. So I want you to know that Gerry was a great man, a good technician, a kind soul, and a friend I will miss all the more because I never met him in person.

Is there someone whom you’ve neglected to tell how you feel in your life?  Why are you waiting? Pick up the phone, walk to their cube, send an email, and let them know that you love them  and are proud to know them. It might be too late tonight.

Attention Hamster Head:

Posted on by

Yes, you. The Jerry Garcia look-alike in the clapped out Ford Focus. I am still marveling at your abrupt u-turn and injection into my side of the divided roadway yesterday.

I’m not sure if your cutting me off was more impressive than subsequently splitting the lane, hitting the brakes, and forcing the Metro Transit bus to hit his brakes but I’m sure I’ll be able to decide when I quit shaking. It’s only been about 20 hours.

Maybe it was the fact that you then hogged both lanes and motored along at 22 miles an hour for the next three blocks before abruptly turning to the right with no signals that lodged you in my memory. Don’t worry, that pedestrian was clearly over reacting with their leap toward the sidewalk.

That is all.