Dressing for a Change

I’m so glad I’m not the only person that thinks the current fashion comfort overlooking nice and decent. I read and saw the news about how Tampa International Airport had banned wearing pajamas at their airport. It might appear “tongue in cheek,” but I’m of a view that perhaps there is a lesson to be learned here. 

I see people, mostly millennials or gen-x types come to the casino I work at wearing pajamas while playing their favorite slots games. I see the same thing at Grocery stores and Walmart stores too. I’m not sure when or more importantly, why people suddenly have this yen to not change into regular clothes after getting out of bed. Is it to be comfort or laziness that explains this habit? 

If you haven’t noticed, I’m in that crowd that believes in a certain dress code where people are attired in clothing that makes them appear more becoming. I’m of that generation that thought it important to dress up for Sunday services, special occasions such as weddings, funerals, graduations, and even travel. And I considered people who chose not to dress according to the occasion, inept, slovenly, and perhaps not in their right mind. 

I don’t see anything wrong with being comfortable, casual pants or denim jeans are perfectly fine. Dockers come to mind. Women have their comfortable dresses, skirts or pants that doesn’t say “I just rolled out of bed. Look at me!” 

If I sound like a curmudgeon embittered by today’s fashion trends, you’re right. And what’s with wearing ripped and holey jeans? I guess that’s for another day. 

Ambulance Chasing

It wasn’t until I had my stroke in 2002 that I realized the true cost of healthcare. I saw the ambulance charge for the ride that went from the Moose Lodge on Lidgerwood at that time to the nearest hospital not more than perhaps a mile away, tops. 

Years later I found a similar charge for my father going from a clinic to an adult care facility in the Spokane Valley. If there was a choice then I’d take it, but in an emergency, we consumers of immediate healthcare, that’s not an option. 

Here’s something I never heard before that I thought quite interesting, since I’m a wordsmith. Most insurers and regulators try avoiding the term “overcharging.” Instead it’s called “structural pricing conflict.” 

It’s pretty interesting that ambulance services are out of network on purpose and zero competition. I always assumed that if you were in say a fire department where ambulance services were part of their priorities that the bill would be less since it’s on the taxpayer’s dime, but that’s not true either. Because these public services have no competition, they too charge what they believe is a fair price for them. 

It’s not like you or I can just go to the yellow pages and compare prices or rates when we are involved in an accident or are shot or injured by some other accident or misfortune. We’re at the mercy of these companies and they know it. Of course then they can charge what they believe is fair for them. 

Now in their defense they are the second line of triage care for help in saving one’s life following first responders, who are tasked with assessing their injuries and stabilizing him or her when the ambulance arrives. This care continues until the patient arrives at the nearest hospital. All of these life-savers are highly trained and schooled. 

You could ask what about that law of no surprise billing in healthcare passed and signed in 2022? Well, ground ambulances are exempt from that law, so they can still charge rates to the insurance providers with the expectation that you and I will be responsible for the remainder. 

I thought this was a scam but it’s something we all grudgingly accept because when your life is on the line you and I don’t really care how much it will cost us or how we ended up in the hands of professionals who can put us back together again and live to talk about it. 

New Book Out Now

My loyal readers I have wonderful news to share with you. I have just released a new book called, Clock maker and the Red Widow. At this time it’s available on Amazon and of course through my website when my great and magical webmaster puts it up for all to view and buy. 

From the ashes of war to the shadows of international espionage, Clock Maker and The Red Widow is a gripping trilogy of vengeance, loyalty, and the devastating cost of duty. 

The story resumes after the events of Hector’s Call to Duty, retold from the chilling perspective of the antagonists. Dmitri and Lena Costas, survivors of the brutal civil war in the former Yugoslavia, have escaped only to become weapons themselves-elite assassins for the Serbian State Security, an organization as ruthless and secretive as the KGB. Their final mission promises freedom: assassinate Mark Marteau’s parents-and eliminate Nicole and Dylan Baker. But in a world ruled by blood and betrayal, freedom is never guaranteed. 

Eight years later, Dylan Baker, haunted by his mother’s brutal murder, is deployed in Afghanistan fighting the Taliban. As his Army service nears its end, Dylan prepares for a different battle-one driven not by orders, but by revenge. 

I hope all of you will want to order copies. There are also eBook versions available. 

Thank you all for your support 

Tiffany A Porcelain Doll

Her face appeared flawless. The color of ivory, as smooth and perfect as window glass she had a perfect look. Her name was Tiffany, at least that’s the name I gave her when I found her yesterday morning. 

Yesterday she was a grotesque mess. Apparently she didn’t notice that the traffic light had changed or thought maybe she could outmaneuver a big Freightliner going over forty miles per hour. 

Regardless, after the postmortem she came here to me. I promised her parents I would make her perfect. I guess her real name her parents gave her was Agnes—a horrible name for such a girl! 

Her parents gave me her latest selfie. A pretty face, though maybe too healthy looking for my tastes—all tanned and blemish free. I prefer my subjects with a perfectly wan appearance, resembling dolls of Victorian times.  

So, after the stage where she is cleaned out, bled out and embalming fluid injected into her using an apparatus resembling an I.V. pole, a tube, and a long needle. Her face began to resemble the perfection that I desired. 

I admired her physical features. She was seventeen, a beautiful, athletic body, but alas she will be forever young. When the embalming process had run its course, in a hundred years, she’ll resemble all the residents who reside at that cemetery, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. 

I applied more pancake to her marred skin until it became a ghostly hue. I then applied the makeup, lipstick on her lips that will never experience a kiss from her lover and rouge along her high cheek bones. I then placed her hair into ringlets to give it that Victorian look. Ah, perfection.  

The parents wanted her dressed in a summer smock. Of course I complied with their wishes, though a lovely pinafore with pretty ribbons and bows would be better, though I didn’t tell them that. Besides, the smock was easier to put on her than what I had in mind. Rigor-mortis had already set in making my job so much harder. 

I checked the time on my watch and realized it was quitting time. I smiled down at my creation before gently closing the coffin’s lid. 

Talking Animals?

I believe that animals do talk in their own way. That’s been my philosophy for as long as I can remember. Last night I watched Nova on my local PBS station that dealt with that very topic, “Can Dogs Talk?” 

The study in question dealt with training a number of highly intelligent dog breeds to press a button on the floor that would communicate his or hers needs to the trainer or master. Naturally the most common or popular request these dogs invariably chose was “Go Out,” “Play,” and “Eat” or “Food.” 

There were multiple buttons the subject dog had options to press. The results were both obvious and interesting. As you can see from the four most popular quoted words, they  wanted something that they enjoyed such as going outside, playing, or eating. What was interesting about the results were words that conveyed complex emotions or feelings. They also had buttons such “Sad,” “Mad,” “I love you,” and “Happy,” were included, and dogs pressed those very buttons expressing their feelings. 

Like I said, these particular dog breeds are highly intelligent and easier to train. So there is a bit of a bias in this study that tells us that not all dog breeds are intelligent enough to figure out these buttons and received what they desired. 

That being said, I can’t see why the same study couldn’t be done on other animals as well, such as cats, horses, cows, or birds. The results most likely, I feel, would be the same, based mostly on these animal’s particular breed and how they interact with humans. 

My housecat, Tommy, as an example, is highly intelligent and does many things that are not something I trained him to do, but has invariably surprised me in so many ways. As an example, he communicates his desires to the point that he almost sounds like he’s attempting to express words for what he needs. If he wants out, he has learned to drop the m sound, so it sounds almost like “out.” If he wants to get fed, which he does quite often at his young adult age, he will meow with a hard m sound so that he’s at a pleading emotion. 

My Amazon, Elsa knows when it’s her bedtime. She will go inside her cage and close the gate. She hasn’t figured out how to lock it, but it is telling how intelligent these animals are. 

Here’s another example of Tommy’s intelligence. Back in November when we set our clocks back to standard time, he was all in a panic that I wasn’t getting out of bed at the normal time I get up, which would have been an hour ahead, and Tommy freaked out because of it. 

I also converse with both animals in a normal conversational tone that appears to puts them at ease seemingly knowing that I care about them. 

Transport No. 24

Presently I am walking with my parents to the train depot. There are a large number of us and were told we had to move from the ghetto to make room for others. We were going to a better place, so we were told. 

The train station appeared awash in the humanity that defined who we were as a people. Yellow stars of David sewn on our jackets or dresses like badges of dishonor, placing us in this unique minority in 1944. 

There were the rumors of course. We all heard all kinds of rumors. Are the SS soldiers truly as evil and cruel as others warned us about back in the 1930s as opposed to now? I can’t answer that question. I wasn’t born then. My parents knew but they appeared resigned to their fate. 

I saw the train locomotive. It hissed steam and billowed black smoke from burning coal. I saw the cars behind this engine. They weren’t passenger cars as we were led to believe, but cattle cars. 

“Mommy, why are we going in there?” I asked her in my innocent five year old voice. She looked down at me, at my eyes and I caught a glimpse of her fear for the first time. “Because God has ordained this for us,” she replied in a hoarse whisper. A lone tear rolled down her cheek. 

It was at that moment I realized lies were all that existed here. “What is the name of this train?” I asked Mother. 

“It’s Transport Number 24,” she told me and clutched my hand tightly within hers. “It will be okay, my son. All our sins will be forgiven.” She sang a psalm in Yiddish, in a quiet whisper to me. 

“Where is this train going?” I asked Father.  

“It’s in a place where railroad trains cross,” he choked as emotion came like a fever. “Auschwitz.”

Another Story Completed

Yesterday I finished writing my first draft of my latest new novel and new series, Beyond The Pale, A Pink Diamond Mystery. 

 I have yet to start the editing process that will take a few weeks, but I feel really good about this, much more so than the last book I did, The Wizard. 

Beyond the Pale: A Pink Diamond Thriller is a detailed crime thriller narrative centered around the brutal murder of an elderly couple, Howard and Elizabeth Plum, at their orchard near Omak, Washington. The suspected murderer, Tommy Tubervale, a homeless drifter with a troubled past, is on the run, and the story follows the investigations led by the Pink Diamond Detective Agency and local law enforcement as they unravel the complex web behind the murder and related events. 

As I told you in an earlier blog post, Charlotte, Trixie and the new girl, Ginger are partners of a private detective agency called Pink Diamond. They get hired on to a missing person investigation related to a homicide in Omak, Washington. What these women don’t know is there are secrets going back thirty years that they must reveal to learn the truth.  

That’s no small feat in a rural town that don’t like outsiders coming in to cause trouble and stir up old squabbles and memories the towns people just as soon forget. 

The murder becomes related to a long standing feud between two families, and it cuts into a cultural mistrust of locals versus people on the outside who don’t understand their ways. 

As is my writing style I do my best to make sense of themes pertinent to the overall story. I did a back story on Ginger that she later confesses to Trixie of a past that is filled with disillusionment, betrayal, and heartache when her father gives her up to be a sexual object to four men when she was thirteen and escapes one night after poisoning and killing the four men. 

I continue on this line when I introduce Milton Freewater, a Colville Native who has a vision of a “man of authority” killing the suspected murderer’s father thirty years prior. The Native suddenly disappears and I used that as a sounding board for the murdered and missing indigenous people in this state and country. 

I feel confident about this book and hopefully will get positive feedback from my beta readers. I can’t wait to start editing.

The Audio Interview for A Man’s Passion

My fellow, loyal readers, I have great news to share. Kate Delaney’s interview with me is now live. 

Though I was asked to do a video to compliment the audio, I vetoed the idea because of the added cost involved. 

Please listen to it and see for yourself how this book is written by buying a copy for yourself. It is, as Kate Delaney promoted available “for a song.” 

Funny Thing About Dreams

I have vivid dreams that are wonderfully crazy and odd and silly. Last night was no exception. I can’t recall how many times I saw giants, flying monkeys, or felt like I was falling endlessly when I was a child.  The flying monkeys was my first experience watching The Wizard of Oz. I still get anxious watching those monkeys flying whenever I watch that movie. 

When I was that young boy, I didn’t awaken screaming out in terror. For me, nightmares or any dreams I had were movies that I watched throughout their conclusion. Later dreams that molded to my growing body became more sexual in nature and of course the result spoke for itself. 

When I became an adult of course I dreamt of workplace dramas, being late for a final exam, though I have been out of college for years, adventures in my National Guard days, including where I’m shot in the head as I’m going up a beach in the heat of battle. That was back when we were on standby during Operation Desert Shield. 

In my later years, my dreams included people I’ve known and loved who passed before me. They were my parents and friends I’ve known for years. I look upon those dreams in a positive light too. I feel God blessing me by going to heaven and visiting these spirits who come to life in my dreams. 

Oh, I also have dreams involving traveling to this mega city, where I have no idea where I’m driving and suddenly my car is stuck inside this building and I have to get out and walk to an elevator or staircase and climb or go up. 

Now last night I had this dream that I was with these people who had interesting pets, two were normal animals: a dog and a cat. But then this creature appears that I at first thought was a feathered bird of green and yellow plumage. I also have occasional dreams in color though most of the time they’re in black and white. Anyway, this animal had short, stubby wings and four legs with webbed feet like a duck. The beak was like a platypus. 

I like my dreams because they are so wonderfully crazy, odd and silly. I like watching these movies in my head and don’t care if people who read this think I’m an odd duck. It’s just how it is. 

What A Year

My fellow loyal readers, It’s January 1, 2026, and I have to say, what a year it has been. I had my fair share of good, bad, and indifferent times these last twelve months. Of course I prefer the good over the others,  only because I rather glow in the good that comes my way than having to deal with the bad things in life, or shrug off the indifferent. 

I started last year by seeing an ad in my online site about a car that was two years old and only had 3,000 miles on the odometer. I only get opportunities like this once in a lifetime. Though many of you had reservations about my decision, I know it was the right move, considering the age of my other Charger and its high mileage, as opposed to what I elected to do. 

I got a taste of a scammer about that time too. He claimed to be from England and wanted me to send him 56,000 copies of my book, I Albert Peabody. He also wanted me to give him $1,500. I never returned his call, and I never heard from him since. 

My marketing has become more aggressive but also more spendy. My hope, and that’s all it is at this point is the marketing pays off with solid book sales. Right now I have three marketing companies working with me to promote I Albert Peabody, reprint of A Man’s Passion,  and recently published through Austin Macauley, Four Seasons Book One, Edge of Darkness.  

My blog posts continue to thrive thanks to you my loyal readers who finds my writing so interesting and timely. Like last year, this year’s blogs were more popular receiving more likes and comments than any time prior. Again Thank you for your support. 

I finished Nate Turner, a Negro Cowboy, The Wizard and about halfway through the first draft of Beyond The Pale. The cowboy western I did took a lot of work and when I get through with this latest project I’ll dive into editing and getting it readied for publication. 

The Wizard project may or may not go far. I got it done, but I’m not happy with it right now. I combined three stories and merged them into one long book that I’m afraid might be too much for the average reader to be engaged in. 

Beyond the Pale has more promise I think. I’m going to the basics of story writing and not get tugged into different directions like with The Wizard. It’s a whodunnit and I think more favorable for you my loyal readers. Anyway that is how 2025 ended and this year begins. Thanks again for all your support.