Justice Due

It’s a funny thing about living here in Spokane, as I’m sure anywhere else for that matter. There is always this element in society who want to make it big by using any means possible including illegal means to justify their endgame.

Apparently this was the case and recently, the media revealed a group, gang, syndicate in this area who made their living in stolen property.

They were quite slick about it too, stealing coin machines, catalytic converters, tools, and credit cards. But like in the movies one of those arrested ratted out on the rest of the gang and now they’re all in jail awaiting their day in court.

I often wondered about the abandoned cars I spotted from time to time along the route I normally take to work. It’s a familiar road because it eventually goes pass the casino I work at. It always started out innocently as I spotted a car that was left along side the road, thinking the person had a mechanical problem, or the vehicle ran out of gas.

But then something funny started happening as eventually tires and wheels were removed, a side window was smashed in, the hood was raised and eventually, it looked as if it belonged in a wrecking yard for final dismemberment. That was when someone finally called the Spokane County sheriff and it was impounded and removed from the road.

All last autumn and winter this occurred to at least five vehicles along the same patch of road. It seemed clear to me what was actually going on. I don’t know if law enforcement caught on. Here’s what I think most likely happened. Our guests go to our casino and enjoy the evening. Some time during their time there, the car they drove in either gets stolen, or maybe someone punched a hole in the gas tank and it ends up at the bottom of the hill.

In any case, they have to leave their car, or the thieves leave the car and then someone else, over the course of several evenings have their fun, stealing what they can and destroying the car so the owner is left with nothing.

Since that time, in May to be precise when this theft ring was discovered, there has been an increased amount of county deputies patrolling that road and no abandoned cars alongside that route. I’m thinking justice might have finally prevailed

Red Flags Everywhere

Once again, in little over a week, we are witness to mass murder on a scale that defies explanation. I’m probably one of a few Democrats out there who not only endorses our right to bear arms but cherishes it as a founding principle for all to admire and respect.

But we as a people of this country who believes in this right, need to see, and report red flags that pop up before these tragedies occur. The store clerk at these gun stores should have realized what was going on when the purchaser bought assault styled rifles, boxes of ammunition and no silhouette targets that this was a red flag and the authorities needed to be notified.

Just like our rights to free speech and the press, our right to bear arms carries a very profound responsibility, one not considered lightly. We don’t need more gun laws, just enforce the existing laws on the books now. By the same token, we don’t need semi-automatic assault style rifles to be bought by 18-year-old kids either. When I was twenty-one, I bought my first long rifle, a Winchester 30-30, lever action with six rounds of bullets used for hunting deer.

It was also loaded at home in case an intruder broke in, I would have the ability to defend myself and my family. I believed then that an assault styled rifle was a waste of money. The rounds, the 5.56-millimeter ball round were useless for hunting game because it had no real knock-down power.

 So, if a person who just turned eighteen and goes into a gun store to purchase  two assault rifles and three hundred rounds of bullets, then why didn’t that get reported?

It flies in the face of common sense or veracity. I don’t care if the store owner is a bona-fide MAGA, NRA, freedom loving patriot. The right thing to have done was report this to the authorities that this kid just bought guns and bullets and no targets. No, we don’t need more gun laws, but we do need people with backbone to say not in my town are you going to turn us into looking like fools for the world to see and mock.

Don’t tell me I want to take away your guns. That’s the last thing I want. What I want is for people to stop throwing the second amendment in my face every time something like this happens, telling me that it was unfortunate but we have to have our guns to protect ourselves from tyranny. What tyranny are you talking about? What I want is for gun store owners to stop putting sales and profits before lives lost because some nutcase decides he wants to get his ten minutes of infamy.

Here’s Another One

My loyal readers I just came across something horrible to say the least. One of my coworkers informed me that our President, Joe Biden is stockpiling baby formula and sending all of it to the Mexican border.

He told me this because the left-wing mainstream news media wouldn’t divulge this obvious cover-up. He told me this is why he doesn’t trust the mainstream news because they want a one world government run by China and he won’t stand for it. Instead, he gets his news off some “news outlet,” that reports what’s really going on in this country via his cell phone.

I have dealt with all kinds of people who tell me the “truth” as they view it through whatever filtered eyewear they possess. I listened to him prattle this latest conspiracy theory with a modicum of patience. After all I didn’t want to create a scene in our employee lunchroom. Politics should never be discussed while eating anyway. I’m not sure exactly when the topic first came up. Oh yes, now I remember. It was the gas prices we are all dealing with right now and possibly in the future, which brings up another point, but I’ll cover that next.

He told me the only reason for the way the prices are because President Biden nixed the Keystone Pipeline Project. Actually, he didn’t nix the project, but instead refused to sign a permit, which the actual Canadian oil company in charge, stopped its construction on June 2021. I tried explaining that the reasons for the high prices is the supply chain issues, war in Ukraine, and lower production than before the pandemic. He wouldn’t buy it though.

Another thing I didn’t mention was a deal between Former President Trump and Saudi Arabia in 2020 that cut oil production. No one at the time knew what the consequences to this would be in the future—today. Now we know.

In a twisted fate of reality which I’m sure even Donald Trump didn’t anticipate; we are on the cusp of going even further toward a carbon neutral economy. Apparently, according to President Biden, all cars made in the US by 2030 must be electric. So higher fuel prices will undoubtedly lead to most automakers developing and instigating e.v. cars, which in turn will become the demise of the internal combustion engine.

It’s one of those accidents of history that certainly wasn’t planned but may become a reality and Trump will undoubtedly benefit from that.

Writing So Far

I’m reading news articles on the latest shootings in Buffalo by a racist who wanted his fifteen minutes of fame plastered over the airwave and social media platforms. Suffice to say as I described in A Man’s Passion, when a man’s passion is hate toward his fellow human beings, there is no changing him.

I finished my book which I renamed Building A Mystery. It is in the first-person point of view of both the protagonist and the antagonist. I asked my beta reader to tell me if the format I originally set up is workable or should I move the story around? I haven’t heard back yet.

I started a new story with new characters and different plot I am calling Boomer Ang. It’s written in the point of view of the dog, Boomer. His owner, Master Bob is shot by an unknown person and he is adopted by the police detective working that case. Obviously, other movies come to mind such as Hooch. Obviously, I will work the whole plot line in a different mode. It’s a challenge to not repeat what is going on in this story—also haven’t decided on a short story or novel concept—to both keep it interesting and original.

Boomer is a mutt as he describes himself, a big dog whose long tail wags back and forth hence why he thinks he is called Boomer Ang. He has a lot of adjustments to make including being the low dog in an already overcrowded pack of four other large dogs. I’m sure the adventures will keep the reader’s interest piqued.

Boomer is also opinionated in how he views us humans. In one scene he wonders why Master Bob’s girlfriend wants to go walkies after discovering his dead body. I will use many such incidents as a way of exposing our human foibles. I’m sure most of you my loyal readers will get a chuckle or two from that.

Well, it’s about time to watch the news and see if another racist or dysfunctional human has decided to kill a bunch of people because of who he is and who they are.

Beware of Your Best Friend

I watched the 60 minutes episode last Sunday and I was stunned to learn that birds aren’t real. I got to thinking that Man’s best friend, our family lap dog that we have trusted for thousands of years could also be a CIA inspired robotic automaton.

Think about it, we take our pets to our veterinarian, who is actually a CIA operative, who while you look on gives them “shots” to prevent Parvo or distemper but in actuality are injecting them with transmitters to eavesdrop on our personal conversations.

Oh yes they wag their tails and fetch stuff for our amusement, but in actuality they are zeroing in on everything we say and the CIA records our conversations. If we speak ill of the government then we are taken in the middle of the night from our homes and put into reeducation camps while our dogs are euthanized and replaced by a cleverly recreation of Rover or Princess. Then when you are released, your best friend is there to greet you.

Scary, isn’t it? And don’t get me started with your cat or goldfish. I wouldn’t trust that hamster or guineapig either. The CIA probably have them bugged as well. It’s all a conspiracy.

Don’t trust anybody or anything!

Marketing, Scams AND Progress So Far

My loyal readers to start with the vacation I had planned for last week turned into a staycation instead. The weather was frightful in the Pacific Northwest to say the least. Rather than go down to Gooding to visit with my wife and her mother and Tom I had to work on my writing project I informed you of a couple of months back. That is now done and in the first phase of editing. I also went and got traction on this marketing I told you of two weeks ago and that seems to be going well. I have a radio interview that went great and upcoming trailer for A Man’s Passion, plus my book will be presented to the Toronto Book Fair in June.

This past Wednesday our virtual Inland Northwest Writers’ Guild had an interesting topic that almost had me concerned called writer’s scams. In other words, writers who become unwitting victims of various scams that are out there. The most popular is the vanity press, whose sole purpose is to print your book for you, but you pay for everything. That happened with me because I had Author House print This Life: My Life After My Stroke. They were more than Happy to print my book. They were even willing to edit it and market it, so long as I paid for everything. A vanity press business model is based solely on getting as much money from the writer, not on how many books actually sell.

And of course, years later they called me wanting to know if I had any other books they could print up. I realized what they really were and told them , no I don’t have any other books to print. It was a lie of course. I was rooked out of a couple thousand dollars and got little in return.

When I told my group about what I had achieved, Linda the coordinator asked me if was legit. I replied as far as I could tell it was because they had paper trail of contracts that I had to sign so it was all legal and above board.

Linda listed many other scams especially those that offer marketing deals that are too good to be true and you have to fork out a bunch of money that is outrageous, which turns out was all a con after all. I was starting to become concerned until she showed us a list of those companies and vanity presses to avoid at all costs. The company I am working with was not on that list.

So now I am off to edit more of this latest project. I also rename the title from Grave Robbers to Building a Mystery. I liked the way it sounded much better and seemed to fit with the over all plot, which deals with three different sets of conflict, hence building a mystery. I haven’t decided on a new project yet though I do like to fit in a new character, Boomer Rang.

Nightmare

Look! I’m playing with doggy at the train station. My name is Tatyana. I am four years old and live in a small town. My country is at war with Russia. Mama says Russia is a big country that wants our country too. Papa is in the army to protect me and Mama from Russians.

Today we are going on a train ride to a place called Poland where we will be safe from the Russian Army. Mama talked about the Russians in a bad way. They are bad people, she tells me. Some day I hope this war is over.

“Goodbye doggy,” I tell him. He looks hungry and sad that I am leaving him. I wish I could stay and play longer. Mama holds my hand and leads me inside the station. It is crowded with many people who live around here. There are many children here too. Some are even little babies inside their strollers. I see one baby being bounced up and down by her mama. She is laughing and giggling with glee.

In the distance I hear booms. They are from the war front, Mama told me. We are safe because Papa is there to protect me and Mama. I am still scared though. I often cry in my bed when I hear the booms come nearer to my house. I often climbed into bed with Mama and hug her tight to me. Today though, we will leave here and go to this place called Poland where we will be safe.

Yesterday, a nice police officer and a soldier came to our door and told us the Russians were approaching and we needed to leave. The soldier handed Mama a piece of paper, like a ticket and told us it was to take us to Poland. Then they left.

Today we are at this train station in this town of Kramatorsk. I see a smoke trail behind a long pencil way up in the air. “Look Mama! Look at the smoking pencil up in the air.” I laughed at it. Mama saw what I pointed at but did not laugh. She rushed my away from the door, from the window and pushed me to the tiled floor. I skinned my knees and cried in pain.

KA-BOOM, I heard it explode outside. KA-BOOM erupted another. Screams of pain and cries of fear then came outside along with cursing from the men and women inside the station. Mama tried to shield my eyes from what was happening. I moved her hand away with frustration and saw it all in front of me. I can’t wake from this nightmare as I saw cars in flames, people who once stood in groups waiting to come inside, laid on the ground, not moving. I saw it all so very clearly. It was the Russians! Wasn’t it? But we did not do anything to them. Why did they do this to us?

The little baby being bounced on her mama’s lap isn’t there anymore either. Both Mama and baby are lying on the floor very still. BLOOD! I see blood coming from both! They were sitting by the window when that pencil came and exploded outside. The window glass is gone now. Are they dead?

I look up at Mama, she too is bleeding but she is alive, and holding me tight to her. It suddenly occurred to me the Russians don’t want us to leave. But why? Why can’t we be allowed to leave at our own free will? If we aren’t happy, why can’t we go to this place called Poland where we are safe? I cried and prayed to God to save us from the Russians.

Reality Check

As many of you my loyal, readers know I am a big fan of Nova, the science-based series on PBS. The other day I watched an episode that for me is truly frightening and poignant. It was a study done by the University of Wisconsin, which is ongoing showing three participants how they are dealing with dementia in their lives.

Their parents suffered and died from its long battle with Alzheimer’s, going from the first stages of forgetting where they might have left their keys or their appointment with a doctor or misplacing their glasses, to later stages.

It is a sad and frightening aspect of becoming old, whether forgetting where one left their car keys, is just part of getting old or a more sinister sign of Alzheimer’s, which is a form of dementia. It is a reality all of us must face. With Alzheimer’s you can’t think, you lose your bodily functions, You lose the ability to eat or even know when you are thirsty. Finally, there is nothing left but death itself to finally end the suffering.

As the show explained, Dementia is like an umbrella, and Alzheimer’s is spoke of that umbrella, abet a very destructive spoke that eventually takes away every aspect of your life. There is nothing more frightening, I think, than losing your mind where you are just a caricature of what you used to be. You become less than human because your mind is no longer yours to control.

Because Alzheimer’s affects the brain, we don’t feel the damage it creates and causes. Unless we have a CT or MRI scan done on our brain, we aren’t aware what is happening until it is too late. There are cognitive tests participants perform in which the person is asked to recall a list of numbers or names or redrawing certain shapes such as ellipses or squares.

I hope that I am not suffering from that horrible disease. I hope my senior moments aren’t a harbinger to more serious issues to come. I sometimes wonder and I’m scared that I do, but then again I just don’t know. Whenever I am in a room, meaning to do something, but then forgot why I came into this room in the first place, then I remember, I often wonder.

The brain is a wonderful organ and an aging brain can still hold marvelous ideas, thoughts, and memories to share with others. The one thing that the study did convey was that we need to keep ourselves active, physically, and mentally so that those senior moments aren’t an omen of Alzheimer’s.

A New Approach to Marketing

My loyal readers, I’ve gone several months since I had to move back to Spokane not doing my due diligence when it came to marketing my books. Not only is it costing me time and effort needed but also money which has been less available with the cost of everything else going up.

The other day I was going through my voicemail on my cell phone and came upon a couple of interesting items that piqued my curiosity enough to call them back. One was a publicist for an advertising agency who bought and read my book, A Man’s Passion, and thought it worthy enough to call me and ask if I’d be interested in allowing his company to market my book in Canada. The other was an editor for a reference book company that does biographies of celebrities, politicians, business leaders and authors called Marquis Who’s Who.

I may have found my marketing niche, if I can afford the cost that it will end up being. For me it isn’t cheap, and because I have to figure out the best course to take, plus still invest money into the other books as of yet unpublished, it will be quite the balancing act.

If it does as promised though, I may have more than enough potential readers out there who want to buy my books and then I would definitely be in the cat’s bird perch.

Family Rest Room

Family rest room? What a joke! I don’t care about no family restroom and what its true purpose is. I’m a doper, a tweeter, and don’t give a rat about babies needing their diaper changed or someone in wheelchairs needing to have their moment of privacy. It’s about me wanting to get high here at this casino. After all, if you take out the “c”, the “a”, and the “o” and what is left is sin. I love living in sin!

I just lost a bundle on those slot machines and am jonesing for a quick fix. I go to this one restroom over here by the food court, but them stupid housekeepers keep locking it! Wait, there’s a sign. What does it say? I barely passed sixth grade you know and dropped out of junior high when I was 17. Assholes anyway! “Due to undesirables using the family restroom for other uses then intended, the Family rest room is permanently closed.”

“Closed? How dare they close the family rest room. Don’t they know I need it to do my drugs?”

“Hey you, security guard. Why they close this?”

The man was a tall, redneck looking dude in his blue uniform, polo shirt and badge.

He gave me this ‘I don’t like you already’ look. “You know it’s because of people like you we shut these restrooms down.”

“People like me? I ain’t done nothing wrong!”

“Yeah, right, tell me why you want to use the family restroom for anyway?”

I can’t very well tell him the truth. “I got to go really bad dude,” I tell this clown.

“Use this public restroom then.” He leaves me. I flipped him off as he walked away. Asshole! I go in and find the handicap stall is empty. Thank God for small miracles. My palms are sweating and my fingers tremble as I pull out my baggy of white crystal-like powder and pull out my foil from my back pocket and use my lighter to torch the foil. I used a straw from my courtesy soda pop to suck the smoke into my lungs.

“There’s no smoking in the rest rooms,” I hear some dumb housekeeper tell me. He sounds like he’s old, like in his 50s or 60s. I ignored him. He’s a loser, flunky anyway. “Yo! No Smoking in the restroom,” he tells me in a louder voice.

“Oh, my bad, sorry. I didn’t know,” I reply to this pencil dick housekeeper. You wanna get high too? I want to ask him just to see what he says. I feel the drug start to work. I can function now. I get up from the toilet and hear the toilet flush. I laugh at the funny sound the flushing toilet made like someone gargling.

I stepped outside the stall and not only is this big old janitor looking at me like my old man used to whenever I got home from my bro Jody’s, but two security clowns and a fricken cop are waiting for me. Jesus, I can’t get a break anymore!