That Chair Is Taken.

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“I always enjoy being out here in the sunlight. Not that I really want to spend that much time here, but it is kind of interesting to see who shows up today.”

“I love the women. My wife quit coming after she got remarried, but I don’t blame her at all. Our kids needed a dad. Besides, I can gawk without guilt if she’s not here.”

“It always comes down to chicks with you guys. Fair enough. The beefcake is nice for me.”

Silence fell over the group taking up the last row of chairs to the East side of the tent. The crowd was starting to find its way across the vast ocean of grass and granite, many wearing poppy pins and parts of uniforms.

A program fluttered across the lawn, blown by a light breeze. Hernandez picked it up and scanned the page before passing it along the row. “Same guy as last year. His heart is in the right place. I know those guys he talks about from the reception area. Both good dudes. He gets all choked up each year like they just died. Wish I could tell him they were unconscious when the plane went to the bottom. Didn’t feel a thing. Guess that’ll have to wait until he joins us up there.”

“I was with his cousin in Vietnam. Crazy guy, kind of a poet. Most of those linguists were a little loopy. But he was a good Marine. This guy even looks a little like him. Way heavier, but Cal never got very old. I suppose he would have gotten fat himself.”

A six year old stared down the row, clearly seeing all of them seated there. Janice put a finger to her lips to indicate it was a secret. The little girl just waved and guided her grandmother to another set of seats under the shaded tent.

“Always amazes me when one of them sees us. Makes me tingle a bit. I’m so used to people forgetting we were ever here. If it wasn’t for my birthday and my brother, this would be the only day of the year anyone says my name out loud. I sure miss that jerk. He misses me as well. I’m glad he broke that arm when we were kids, or he’d probably be sitting here with us right now. He always did have guts.”

Silence settled over the row as a few others joined them, taking seats in the bright morning. The wind had died down now and the tent was almost full. It was time.

Mass started at 10:00. The superintendent of the cemetery was punctual. Things moved right along and the religious service was over in just under an hour and ten minutes. The big crowd this morning slowed things down at communion time, but the back row inhabitants kept their seats throughout. Not quite enough people to fill it all the way back to where they were congregated.

An honor guard moved up near the altar under the tent, and a ceremonial grave was laid out in front of the speaker’s podium. The speaker was indeed the man who’d presided for the last decade. He was rounder, grayer, and walked more slowly than he had when he first took the job on for his American Legion Post. He was a bit sadder as well: too many of his friends were now buried in the cemetery beyond the tent boundaries. Friends and comrades who’d spent their youth with him had left him behind for the first time in his life – it was a bit daunting. They’d never been apart for this long before.

After a short speech about the meaning of sacrifice and courage, the sounds of rifle volleys and bugles rang out over the reflecting pond nearby. Crisp salutes were delivered by arthritic hands in honor of those who would never have a chance to grow old. Cookies and coffee were served as people dispersed.

Hernandez stood up and stared toward the reflecting pond. The others looked as well: the speaker was standing alone and staring toward Heaven. “He’s talking to his friends. He never got to say goodbye or go to their funeral. Feels bad about it still. Let’s go over and comfort him.”

The silent troop from the land beyond marched in formation to the edge of the pond and stood in ranks with their brother for a moment before they departed, one-by-one, for the sky above. Left alone, he wiped a tear from his eye and headed home.

He’d be with them one day. But while he was here, he’d remember them until his time came as well.

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Let’s finish with shameless self promotion: if you’ve enjoyed this blog, please take a minute and help me out in a writing contest I’m entered in right now. Your vote will help me get to the final round, and it will be very much appreciated. Click this link and vote for my short story before going any further. While you’re there, a vote for my friend Tamara would be nice as well. We aren’t in competition (I’m fiction/she’s non) and she’s a gifted author. Your voting for us both is a blessing and we appreciate it in advance.

Amish Zombies From Space: A Review.

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Let’s start with shameless self promotion: click this link and vote for my short story before going any further. While you’re there, a vote for my friend Tamara would be nice as well. We aren’t in competition (I’m fiction/she’s non) and she’s a gifted author. Your voting for us both is a blessing and we appreciate it in advance.

Amish Zombies from Space is just another book about the Amish. Well, at least the Amish in space. Perchance, more specifically, a group we’ve seen battling vampires in the past. Yeah, it’s kind of a niche thing, but it’s so well done that if you have any interest at all in speculative fiction you should take the time to read it now.

Please follow me on Twitter, and “Like” the Facebook author page. Don’t forget to subscribe (the box is on the right side of the page) to be eligible for free e-books and other benefits!

Amish Zombies From Space

Amish Zombies From Space

I know Kerry Nietz from a writers group I belong to, and have corresponded with him in the past. I was also lucky enough to beta read this book. He has said he’s blaming me if it fails, because I off-handedly made some smart comment like, “Anyone can do Amish Vampires. It takes a real writer to do Zombies.” Or something like that – I think he’s just scapegoating me. Not that he has to worry, the book is good. Very good.

It would be easy to throw a book like this out in the world and just make it a campy goof. Kerry doesn’t do that. He presents a thoughtful approach to technology, changing religious values, and how characters try to reconcile their faith with a changing world. He strikes a delicate balance between fascinating and offending the reader with his portrayal of the Amish. There’s enough there to bring tension, but not enough to stereotype the order and defile its members.

A thoroughly pleasant read, it will captivate even hard-core science fiction readers. Since it’s a book that follows the Christian faith, it shouldn’t offend anyone with sex or language. In other words, it’s a great read for all from about age 12 on up.

Below is my Amazon.com review. I hope you get a chance to buy the book today and enjoy it as much as I did.

Full disclosure: I received an advance copy of this work for review purposes. There was no monetary incentive. Zombies. Lots of zombies. But no money.

Kerry is at full speed in this book, the sequel to the widely discussed Amish Vampires In Space. Any book that Jimmy Fallon lampoons should tweak your interest. The sequel? It had best grab you by the throat and shake you, as it’s facing the world with one half-hitch in its stride already.

I am pleased to report that it’s a great book. Not only does Mr. Nietz manage to do justice to the Amish, but also he hits the horror of zombies full in the face, making your skin crawl with anticipation (and, for that matter, fear of contagion.)

Well written, great plot twists, clever use of technology, it’s actually a story of how an conservative religious culture is forced to deal with major shocks to their view of the universe. Faith and technology don’t have to be at war, only our interpretation of how they should interact.

Kerry has managed to bring the best of the Amish, science fiction, and faith elements into this work. It’s entertaining and enjoyable at many levels.

Definite five stars for this book. Now, go raise a barn, Kerry.

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I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.

Please Click The Link And Vote For Me. It Does Matter.

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This is one of those rare moments on the blog where I ask that you take an affirmative action on my behalf. Well, other than the incessant whining to like the Facebook page and subscribe. I guess the occasional request to buy a book I review doesn’t count either.

Dagnabbit, this is different. I entered a contest. I need you to CLICK ON THIS LINK and vote for me. It’s easy: IT TAKES YOU RIGHT TO MY PAGE IN THE CONTEST WHERE YOU CLICK ON THE SYMBOL THAT YOU LIKE THE STORY. After you’ve clicked for me, go ahead and read it – it may even be good. I’m kind of pleased with it. It’s called A Walk In The Park. Part of the Faith 900 writing contest.

Tell your friends and family about this link. Share it on Facebook. Tweet it. ETC. I need the votes. It will move me along in this career thing I’m trying to launch.

That’s it. Just CLICK THIS LINK AND VOTE FOR ME.

I appreciate it. You don’t even have to buy anything.

Joe

Rant #4,756

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It’s been too long with out a good rant around here. Stand by to Stand by…

You, the imbecile in the gray hoodie on the mountain bike tonight at 2215. The imbecile with the headphones, no light, no reflective vest, no helmet, and no shot at survival. Did you realize that it was raining? Yeah. like for the last 24 hours. The look you gave me when I almost turned over you at the stoplight may have been better directed inward. You, sir, are an argument for the wonders of putting chlorine in the gene pool.

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God makes wonders. White Castle just happens to sell them at the drive-thru window. Behold the Chicken & Waffle Slider:

Chicken & Waffle Slider

Chicken & Waffle Slider

Tom Brady getting suspended by the NFL is not racist. I won’t even try to follow the argument that if he was black it would have been worse. Two words kind of end that argument: Ray Rice. Not everything is about race. I’m really disappointed that a man of the cloth I know thinks this is part of the great conspiracy to keep him down.

Haitian coffee and spiced peanut butter are the best ever. Don’t even try to argue that with me.

Hillary and Bill Clinton are both disgusting despoilers of the third world, particularly Haiti. They’ve enriched themselves to the nth degree while stealing from the Haitian people, among others. She’s never had to answer the questions I’ve wanted answered about Benghazi, and he’s a serial abuser of women. When’s the last time you heard anything about his visits to sex-slave island?

Bill O’Reilly is an absurd idiot. He has his moments, but they are decreasing in frequency. Except for Watters’ World segments.

Pamela Geller has every right in the world to hold a cartoon contest. Especially here. I refer you to the Constitution. Amendment #1. Which is supported by Amendment #2. This is why Bill O’Reilly is a twit. Read the thing, Bill. Like what she said or not, she can say it when she wants. (I like Pamela. I’ve corresponded with her in the past. Very engaging person. Also, she’s right about Sharia law creeping in to our society.)

Bags at supermarkets are getting too thin. I know they’re free, but now I have to double bag the plastic. When does the madness stop? Oh. They’re trying to ban them locally. Great. Extra food borne illness on the horizon from used tote bags.

The NFL took money from the military to salute the troops. I don’t know which organization I despise more in this case. The NFL for not disclosing this right away, or the government for doing it with my tax money. The NFL probably ought to refund all that cha-ching to a charity like the USO, or a disabled vet project (not Wounded Warrior, too many bad things there…) that will actually honor the troops because they deserve it, not because they got paid.

I love my church. A lot. Not a rant, more of a rave like the White Castle one above. Both good things.

Nobody has gone to jail yet, and way too many knuckle-headed vermin are still working at the VA in spite of the scandal. Dead veterans must not be quite as exciting as global warming. (Hey – global warming doesn’t exist! But dead people who served their country and were ignored are for real.. Don’t get it.)

End of rant for the day. Tune in soon for some really great book reviews. I promise.

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I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.

Potem.

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God has some plan for all of us. Currently unrevealed. Closer every day. Sunday May 3 2015 was one of those days where it took a leap.

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The delightful people with whom I’d made a missions trip to Haiti dropped by my church for service and then out to lunch. Not all of the Healing Haiti crew, not quite half. But the others were there in spirit. I really love these folks and was thrilled to introduce them to my church family.

Having attended my church for more than a few years, I’m comfortable inviting anyone to visit any time. Today, God sent me a message: continue on this path I’m setting out for you, and don’t waver. There is a role for you in this life as your alter ego, Joseph. Honor him.

Here I am in the pew with my fellow missionaries at that moment where my church welcomes visitors. They all stand and are recognized. Once that happens, the church leadership comes by to meet the new people. I stood up to shake some hands and the next thing I knew there was a small child reaching his arms out to be picked up. All that was lacking was the word “Potem” (Pick me up in Haitian Creole – and I’m probably spelling it wrong.) I reached down, scooped him up, and he immediately began to play with my beard and rub my bald head. All I could do is laugh.

Quiet time on the ledge.

Quiet time on the ledge.


Why? Because this never has happened outside of Haiti, much less in my church on a Sunday. I’m a fixture: they can find me every week. So the question is “Why this week?”

The answer is simple: I was with my Haitian family. The Holy Spirit that led this mission team through some of the most amazing, dark, beautiful, frightening, glorious things in our lives brought a small child to me Sunday to remind me of my role as “Papa Noel.” I am not saying that I’m turning in my badge at work, but this role as the patron saint of children is very important to me. And, it appears, to God.

I’m not quite ready to accept my gift for prophesy. For one thing, to the non-religious, anyone who says they’re a prophet is likely some lunatic in a cloak who eats grasshoppers and honey while ranting on a street corner. I have no cloak. The rest is just about right. More than anything, I’m exploring this gift God has given me and trying to find the boundaries and limits to where He’s leading me in this life.

For now, however, it is clear that being Papa Noel, either here or in Haiti, is part of His plan. My mission team seemed to think it was perfectly natural for me to do that. Not here. Not previously. But Sunday… Well, Sunday He opened my eyes a little wider.

All I can say is, “Ho, Ho, HO.” Some roles we were meant to occupy.

Be blessed. I surely am.

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I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.