Conversations From Land's Edge

What...Another birthday?

2012-01-29T16:37:00.000-03:30

It's Sunday afternoon and we can now call the boy's birthday weekend officially over.

Sean is now 16. The years have sped by faster than an unleashed greyhound chasing a fleeing poodle. It seems like only a few days ago that it was Day 1 at the hospital: my arms were outstretched and my hands clasped that alien-like person---his tiny fists were clenched, his bottom lip pouted and he was wailing at the top of his lungs. 'V' was recovering from the 23 hour delivery. She managed a pained smile and whispered, "He's lovely, now take him back to the nursery."

His actual birthday was during the week (mid-term exams here) so we deferred celebration until the weekend. A late January birthday here limits the possible activities. They tend to be indoor celebrations. For instance, last year we took him and three of his friends to dinner and a movie at the mall (they got to sit at their own table to avoid the embarrassment of being seen with us in public---I suppose it may have been the fez...). A couple of his friends have opted for 'Sweet 16' parties in the basements of their homes. Sean wouldn't have that as he knows perfectly well that he lost most of his sweetness by the age of 10.

Christmas dinner this past year was held at my parent's house, so we did not get a chance to cook a turkey at home. And the last time we DID host a large meal, the numbers were too big to break out the china and silverware (a setting for 8 people).

As I have mentioned before at this blog, my son seems to walk to the beat of a different drummer. He decided this year that he would like to celebrate his birthday by having some of the b'ys over for a turkey dinner served up on the Royal Albert China with silverware and, if I may be allowed a cliche, "the whole nine yards." The photo below shows the Saturday night setting before the boys moved in for the kill. For those keeping score at home, the pattern on the china is 'Brigadoon'.

We were going to put out one extra setting in case the Queen dropped by...

As it turns out, only two of Sean's guy-friends managed to attend the fancy dinner. I told the boy that perhaps the other boy's tuxedos were not clean from their previous dining experiences and they were too embarrassed to 'dress down' for this occasion. We hosted a few more boys on the Friday night with a couple of take out pizzas and a movie in the family room that is normally out of bounds to the teenage species (they have their own recreational area in the basement). Pizza was by Boston Pizza (I mention this only in case someone from that fine organization reads this and throws a freebie our way).

The more casual Friday soiree was also a bit of an odd occasion as there were firearms (pellet rifles) being used downstairs. They have a 'firing range' set up in the crawlspace that can be accessed from the basement and amused themselves with a bit of target practice prior to dining. For the record--we are not negligent people. The only reason we let the boys get into this at all is the fact that most of them are sea cadets and have training in the use of the pellet rifles at the base.

'V' was given a bit of instruction in cake decorating a while back and did her own cake and cupcakes (see photos below). I must say, that was the highlight of the weekend for me. Sean had a four hour drill practice with the cadets today so we rushed together some bacon and eggs for brunch. This is one of those rare occasions that I'm allowed to pollute my arteries with cholesterol (I only hope that my physician does not stumble across this blog).

Only 16 candles. I can't remember back that far

They all tasted like mint (umm...I didn't eat ALL of them...)

And in closing I must shout out the praises of 'V' who did an excellent job with the sacrifice of the bird, the baking of the tasties and for showing bravery above and beyond the call of duty by taking the boy out in search of a suitable birthday gift. His early attempts at getting a car or a recreational boat were denied. We may be stupid, but we're not crazy. We settled on a technical gadget thingy to aid with his computer fun. It looks like it should fly. And at THAT price it should serve me single malts and whisk me away somewhere warmer for a vacation...

Count on Me

2012-01-08T20:46:00.000-03:30

The holidays are officially done. The last of the peanut brittle has been scoffed up, the tree is down, the lights removed from that sad little bush outside the front door and the hundreds of other festive things have been stowed away for the year. And that's not counting the hundreds of ornaments on the tree or the fact the tree has about a thousand of those tiny little lights...

courtesy of shutterstock.com

I guess that I should mention that I have always had an interest in numbers. As a yute, when I could first count, I would repeatedly count all 21 of my digits. This has not changed as an adult (the counting thing, not the number of digits) as I still make mental calculations in my head. Not obsessive like, but definately a good user-upper of my time.

While driving on the highway I will see a sign indicating the number of kilometers (miles to my US cousins) and calculate at present speed how long until my arrival. I will do that at every road sign. Perhaps the timer on the stove is counting down the seconds until the moose stew is ready. I will catch myself closing my eyes and counting down in an attempt to reach '1' as the timer sounds. Crazy, no?

This reaches to the world of statistics as well. I am notorious for following the stats of hockey teams. Points for players, goals against averages of goalies and wins vs. loses can be found taking up precious space in my head. Up until last year I competed in a yearly hockey pool with the folks back at corporate HQ at an undisclosed location in SW Ontario. The winner would often get ~~hundreds of dollars~~ milk and cookies and the admiration of the guys. I think that my penchant for numbers helped me win more than my share of the goodies over the years and they recently decided to have an 'in office' draft of players that would obviously exclude me (unless, of course, I footed the bill for the plane flight to get there).

I content myself these days by watching the stats and monitoring the progress of the players on our local team--the St. John's IceCaps, the newest club in the American Hockey League. My lack of posting blogs the past few weeks has obviously taken its toll on the number of visitors. Though who could blame them? Why drop by daily to see the same post slapped up on the screen, gathering dust and being circled by vultures.

Those of you who have followed this blog for a long time may recall the spinning globe I had in the margin. Each time a person dropped by there location was represented by a mark on the globe. It was very cool. Unfortunately it made me dizzy and I fell from my office chair way too much. My wife, however, blames it on the single malt. Whatever.

I HAD to have a (free) counter thingy to keep track of those kind folks who visited my humble blog. I noticed that quite a few people were using Flagcounter and I made the switch. It keeps count of the countries who attend the blog and also the states and provinces of those in America and Canada. For a fee you can open other provincial and state counters for a number of foreign countries.

I have had the feature on my blog for about a year and see that I have had visitors from 112 countries. I quick peek into Wikipedia reveals that there are 192 sovereign states and an additional 13 states whose sovereignity is disputed giving a total of 205 countries in the world. I have therefore had visits from 54.6% of the countries (no, I did not figure that out in my head). This year I have had over 3100 US visitors, 2000 from Canada (thanks mum), 1000 from the UK and 300 from Australia. Since the first of January I have had visitors from four new countries. Hello! to that person from Saint Kitts and Nevis who dropped by on the first of January. On a side note...Saint Kitts and Nevis is only 104 square miles in area with a population of about 51,300.

Are you sick of me throwing out numbers yet? Har! I could go on all day. Anyway, whether you are a new visitor or have tolerated me since my beginnings in 2009 I'd like to wish you all a Happy 2012! Health and happiness to my writing and non-writing friends. Incidentaly, if you add 13 to 2012 and then take the square root, the answer is 45...

Year End Round Up

2011-12-31T21:01:00.000-03:30

It's nearing 6pm here and I'm on a push to finish this post...otherwise the title would be rendered invalid.

For those that don't know this, St. John's is the first city on the North American continent to celebrate New Years. The time difference makes it a bit awkward to watch Dick Clark (whoa, he's 82 now!) and such New Years eve shows on the TV. The ball drops in the Big Apple at 1:30am our time. I've taken out my false teeth and used my walker to make my way to bed long before that.

We've enjoyed the neighbourhood Christmas lights the past few weeks but they will soon be coming down. Except for those who leave them up all year round. My favourite (again) this year is the large display of muted green, blue and purple lights in the trees along the busy boulevard from our provincial parliament buildings to the university. My pet peeve is the dozens of ladders on the sides of homes with fake elves perched on the rungs. Also on that list are inflatable candy canes that light up and those inflatable clear balls with blowing snow and a Santa trapped inside. They remind me of the display at St. Patrick's Church back in London. The big fella and his crozier are proudly displayed on its front lawn encased in a clear plastic cylinder. He seems a bit excluded from the general public, but at least he's protected from snakes.

Where was I...yes, Christmas displays that leave me scratching my head. You see a lot of homes here with those little electric lights sitting on the sills of all the front windows. They look like little menorahs except there are fewer lights involved and they're made of plastic. I'm not sure if they are symbolic of something. Does anybody out there know? Please enlighten me. Finally, have you seen those lit-up deer all over the place. You know the ones...a light metal frame in the general shape of a deer with small, white lights strung all over it. I think they sell them at Costco. Probably every where else as well, going by the number that can be found grazing on the front lawns of houses in this area. I did see a photo of one deer display that showed great humour and a lot of originality. The gutted deer in the picture to the left was hanging from an arbour SOMEWHERE in North America. There's a lot of hunters living here and I'm sure the trend will catch on for NEXT year.

I watched a couple of really good independent movies on IFC this holiday season. The first was a comedy-drama called 'The Station Agent' (2003). It's about a young man with achondroplastic dwarfism who inherits from a friend a small train station in Newfoundland, New Jersey (yeah, that's the name...it's just a coincidence...honest). Fin (an amazing performance by Peter Dinklage) seeks a life of solitude, shying from human interaction. However his neighbours find ways to insinuate themselves into his life. This tale of friendship and lonliness was written and directed by Thomas McCarthy and is well worth your time should you see it in the TV listings (or chose to rent it).

Another thoughtful movie is 'Saint Ralph' (2005), written and directed by Michael McGowan. This story begins in Hamilton, Ontario in 1953 and is about a boy whose mother is in failing condition in hospital. This young man, played with tons of charm by Adam Butcher, is a social outcast and attends a Catholic school. He decides the only way she can be helped is with a miracle and he sets out to train for the upcoming Boston Marathon. The cynical and dismissive headmaster is played with uncharacteristic malice by Newfoundland's Gordon Pinsent. This is a good one to lift one's spirits and has a lot of laughs.

This year has seen me mainly unproductive in the writing world. Even the frequency of blogging has fallen off the past couple of months. It's now 3 hours until midnight. I'd make a resolution to do better if I believed in that sort of thing. I'm of the mind that if one wants to improve they should work on it at any time of the year, not just January the first. I'd like to wish you all the best for 2012. May health and happiness be the order of the day for you and yours, my friends.

Mummering: What's Old is New

2011-12-23T10:45:00.001-03:30

Photo by Keith Gosse/The Telegram

Upon moving here to Newfoundland in 2006 I quickly observed that 'The Rock' was unlike any other location in Canada. A little-known Christmas tradition that has gained a resurgence in popularity in recent years is mummering.

It is believed that mummering found its way to Newfoundland from England nearly 200 years ago. The tradition involves a group of people disguising themselves in costumes and visiting homes within their community. They will entertain their hosts by singing and dancing and perhaps telling jokes. The hosts will supply them with snacks and 'liquid refreshments' and try to guess the identities of the visitors. This is not easy as everyone has their faces covered and men are often disguised as women and women as men. This tradition was made popular in "The Mummers Song" by Newfoundland folk duo Simani in 1982. Play the 3 1/2 minute video, first aired on the CBC program 'Land and Sea', for a feel for what a visit from mummers was like for those living 'round the bay'.

And...below THIS is a link to a two minute video from last Saturday's Mummer's Parade here is St. John's.

The mummering tradition has been noticed by the US satirical new organization The Onion and featured/lampooned in a recent video. You can see that two minuted video below.

Traveling Group Of Medieval Mummers Is America's Top Pick For Holiday Entertainment

So there you have it...all you wanted to know about mummering. And a bit more. Holiday wishes to you all...whatever it is you may be celebrating this time of the year. And finally a feel-good story...the little puffin who found his way home. In a case of 'misdirection', a 6 month old puffin somehow got lost and flew from the Atlantic Ocean to downtown Montreal (mon dieu!). He was flown back (courtesy of Air Canada) to St. John's last night and will spend a couple of weeks R&R at a bird sanctuary before being released back into the 'wilds'. Now there's a happy ending. You can link to that story here.

*sniffs and wipes tear from eye*

An Encounter in the Woods

2011-12-17T11:11:00.000-03:30

Just thought that I'd pop into the blogosphere again for what's quickly turning into a semi-monthly posting schedule. Perhaps my inactivity explains why the number of followers has dropped a couple since my last post. Perhaps that svelte picture of me in my last post offended a couple of people? Too much butt-crack perchance? Hopefully nobody thought that was really ME!

My back pain persists but at least I'm staying away from the hospital. A couple of weeks ago the dog was lying on the floor of my office...looking at me with sad, bloodshot eyes. He has been ailing as well of late. Perhaps some sympathy pains from man's best friend?

I figured that a mid-day walk would be good medicine for us both. It was a bit chilly so I threw the lined coat on our greyhound and leashed him up. As we left the house, Jake the Shih Tzu spied us from the house across the road. He stood on the back of the living room sofa and I'm sure was imagining a big, tasty rat as he vigourously shook his stuffed toy.

We walked down the gravel path into the urban woods, breathing the fresh air and stretching our limbs. Jet eventually forced me to use a poopy bag. Thankfully only one (anyone who's owned a large breed dog knows that a dumpster is a requirement in the back yard). A beagle darted towards us. It had a collar with tags but there was no owner in sight. As it neared its hind end dropped and its tail curled between its hind legs. I tried to lure it towards me but it ran off the path into the stunted pine trees. (On a side note...in my former life as a 'Dog Catcher' only one type of dog ever tried to bite me...a beagle).

A young man came along the path. He looked a bit cold as he wasn't wearing a jacket. He stooped as he grasped the collar of a shepherd-ish looking dog. He explained that the dogs escaped the house when he had the door open. The lived at the end of a nearby busy street. I couldn't loan him my leash as my dog would no doubt run away. With my back in its present state, I was deduced to running the 100 yard dash in over 12 seconds and knew there was no way I would be able to catch the sprinting greyhound.

He explained that the beagle was his step-father's hunting dog. She was normally kept in a pen (Boo!) and naturally ran to the woods after the 'great escape'. He tried carrying the beagle in one arm as he stooped to grasp the collar of the other dog. The beagle squirmed too much so he put her down on the gravel path.

I told him that perhaps he should lead the dog he had home and I would keep the beagle following me in the woods until his return. "Good plan, dude!" he said.

Unfortunately the beagle spied a woman jogging along the nearby busy street and chased after her. "Bella," the young man bellowed after the fleeing beast. The scene in the faux forest had become a bit too surrealistic for my liking. I knew we were only a few sleek bodies and sparkles away from being in a bad Hollywood blockbuster (apologies to Stephenie Meyer).

To make a long story short, the young man soon returned with a leash and Bella the beagle grew tired of chasing the jogger and returned to the woods in search of more challenging game. She hung about Jet and I until she was secured on the leash and returned to her life of drudgery.

The End

I am a Beetroot

2011-12-01T08:34:00.000-03:30

We've quietly slipped into December and now begin the three weeks of madness that lead into the Christmas festivities. Speaking of madness...NaNoWriMo is now complete. My congratulations to those of you who completed the 50K word goal. Maintaining the required pace (of about 1666 words) for 30 days can be really challenging (physically, mentally and maritally).

New topic. I've posted before about the odd assortment of people who have appeared on my doorstep for one reason or another. You may recall my mentioning the man selling fish products door to door from the trunk of his car. Though the list looked tasty enough, I just can't see myself buying food products that have been stored with old beer bottles, jumper cables and a spare tire.

A few years back I had a middle-aged man appear looking for used books in order to make enough money to get the ferry to return home to the mainland. I gave him a few paperbacks and he tucked them into his plastic bag and continued on. The following year he was back again looking for more books. At least this time he didn't spin the story of using the money for ferry fare. I gave him a couple more.

Two years ago I posted about an elderly gentleman selling a book about the (recent) history of Old Perlican, a fishing community on the northern tip of the Avalon Peninsula. There was a story about the old man and how he lost both hands in an electrical accident back in the 70's. I bought a copy of the book for $20. He gingerly pinched the bill between the tines of his right hook and tucked it into his shirt pocket.

We have had charitable fundraisers, security system salesmen, politicians and purveyors of religion appear at the door. Sometimes the traffic has been so heavy it's hard to imagine that we live on an island. I guess that suburban door to door 'visitors' are universal. Perhaps the oddest thing I've seen at the door was the week after Halloween of this year. Supper was on the go in the kitchen and darkness had fallen. The doorbell rang...

The Happy Vegetables.

I opened the door and three young people stood before me, ready to get into their spiel about Oxfam. I have nothing against this fine organization but their people were more than a little creepy showing up at the door, in the dark, dressed as vegetables. Seriously. One was a carrot, another was a celery and the third was a vegetable yet to be named. Note to Oxfam: it may be in the best interest of your fundraisers NOT to show up at people's doors dressed as food items at supper time. Their being a couple days late for Halloween didn't help the oddness of the encounter. I can't help but think of a Barbara Walters interview in this situation. "If you were a vegetable, what type of vegetable would you be?"

What's the oddest person/thing that has appeared at YOUR door?

On Back Pain, Laziness and Lame Ass Excuses

2011-11-16T20:29:00.001-03:30

OK...I suppose I left off on my last post with a bit of an ominous tone. And a cheesy grin.

Seriously, I'm doing great. Well...at least adequate.

I thought that I'd pop in and reassure the two or three readers I have left that I'm not pushing up daisies. Thanks for the concern shown via comments, phone and email.

In the past *checks back to when he last posted* 36 days I've managed to stay out of the hospital. The first couple of weeks of that time frame were taken up with my sister's visit from Edmonton. Our AHL hockey team began their season and I went to 5 home games in 11 nights.

I've visited my Dr. again once, had another blood test and been to see a physiotherapist 5 times. I was hoping to come back with some cool pics of my liver from an ultrasound. However I can't be scheduled in until January so the organ will have to remain a mystery for a while longer (anybody...did that sound weird?). Perhaps it's kidney shaped instead of liver shaped. All this internal organ discussion has got me a bit hungry. All we need now are some mashed potatoes and fried onions and we'd be all set.

With all the time out of the office I find myself playing 'catch-up' after hours, sometimes until 7pm.

This is not a picture of me...

My back is still bothering me quite a bit. So much so that I'm still keeping away from basketball. The geezers aren't too concerned as I'm not the only one off with an injury (fondly referred to as 'broke' in the circle of the elderly). My main concern is that I"m probably the topic of conversation when they head out for beers after the game.

I'm still waiting for those exercises I was shown at physio to start working for me. Damn voodoo. I even purchased a new office chair hoping for better back support. At that price it should have come with a codeine dispenser. Now THAT would have been useful.

I suspect my sense of humour departed the same time I went to the emergency with the fever and chills. A general laziness has set in (yes, a special laziness...one much more consuming than my usual laziness). Perhaps my humour, and ambition, will soon return.

I will stop whining now, wipe away the drool dripping from the corner of my mouth and shamble into the living room. It's Wednesday night and Survivor is on TV soon. Oops! Did I say that. I only meant to think it.

Be back soon...well, at least sooner than 36 days.

The boy's report card is coming home by the end of the week. Hmm...perhaps something blog-worthy...

Evening at the Emergency

2011-10-11T07:32:00.002-02:30

A couple of afternoons last week I had a problem with chills followed by fever. It didn't concern me...the entire event lasted only a couple of hours. It's the season when people get the flu, so I figured something was coming on. I never developed a head ache and wasn't sick. On Thursday I woke up to a chill, followed by fever. There was no way I could work and I called in sick to corporate HQ. I felt better after a couple of hours and talked with my sister who is visiting from Edmonton.

By mid-afternoon the chills returned and I lay on the sofa, covered by a blanket, shivering for a couple of hours. V came home from work and stuffed a thermometer in me (my mouth). I had a temp of 103 F. She called our Dr.'s office but he was just closing up for the day and suggested she take me to the emergency department of the hospital. She drove and I sat with a plastic container in my lap (just in case...we didn't want a repeat of the 'vomit volcano' in the van as happened with the boy earlier in the year).

The ER was fairly busy (when is it not?) and we were told it would be a 3-4 hour wait. I was surprised, though, that 5 minutes later I was called to see the triage nurse. I went through the ritual...pulse, blood pressure, temperature, pee in a bottle...I was a bit surprised when she sent me off for a chest X-ray...in a wheel chair! I think the rolling chariot was a response to the 103F I scored on the thermometer. THAT and the rapid heart rate. I guess it's bad for business if one keels over with a heart attack while wandering the crowded corridors of the ER...

When I got back from X-ray I was put in the 'Plaster Room' across the hall from the triage nurse. I think I was kept there, with the crutches and tensor bandages, in case I was carrying some nasty plague. Or perhaps my fez was a distraction to the huddled masses in the waiting room. Anyhow, I was soon put given a 'johnie coat' and told to put it on. "Should I strip right down to my socks and underwear?" I inquired. The nurse looked horrified. "Please...No. Just take off your shirt. That will be fine."

I was then put on a hospital gurney and left in the hall of the ER with a couple of elderly people. Obviously we were going to have to wait a while to reach the promised land behind the sacred double-doors. A girl came along and took another blood sample. This was apparently to make blood cultures. She assured me that the little glass bottles she carried didn't contain alcohol and I shouldn't drink them....Har! Humour, that's the ticket. I passed the time by watching the comings and goings of injured people. That, and the little man that occasionally passed by on some sort of ride-on vaccuum cleaner. Who WOULDN'T want that around the house!

I eventually saw the ER doctor. He poked and prodded my stomach, listened to my chest and generally asked a lot of questions. The bottom line was that I wasn't showing ANY other symptoms besides the chills/fever and rapid heart rate...both of which were now gone as the nurse had given me a couple of ibuprofen earlier in the visit. He could not explain what was causing the fever. He was curious about my previous history with liver function problems (many years ago) and issued me a form to go off for more blood tests. It was a long six hours, yet pockets of time flew by rather quickly.

I'll be off to see my family Dr. again in a few days. It was a strange way to lead into a long week end, but the past four days have past uneventfully. We went for a nice turkey dinner at my parent's house yesterday. It was nice to have the entire family back together again. Many thanks to the stalwart 'V' who hung out with me at the Emerg and asked all of the pertinent questions that I was too stupid to think of. She also took a photo or two on her new phone. I'll inclued one. You won't want to see the other pic as the 'business' end of the johnnie coat may have caught a breeze and blew open...it reminds me of that time with the kilt...

They took my fez...apparently it wasn't sterile...

A Funny

2011-10-06T12:04:00.000-02:30

In some foreign country a priest, a lawyer and an engineer are about to be guillotined.

The priest puts his head on the block, they pull the rope and nothing happens -- he declares that he's been saved by divine intervention-- so he is set free .The lawyer is put on the block, and again the rope doesn't release the blade, he claims he can't be executed twice for the same crime and he is also set free.

They grab the engineer and shove his head into the guillotine, he looks up at the release mechanism and says, "Wait a minute, I see your problem..."

I figured it must be pick on engineers week somewhere in the world.

Slugs and Bad Behaviour

2011-10-03T10:21:00.001-02:30

Today's stormy weather (leftovers from hurricane Ophelia) pushed some toasty weather at us on Friday and Saturday. We reached a balmy 22C (74F) over the week end. Yes, for Newfoundland THAT is balmy. We've reverted back to normal temps as we dropped down to a misty 10C yesterday (50F).

Mr. Squishy, and friends

The weather yesterday and today has been damp enough to bring out slugs on to the front walk. They are actually 'miniatures'...only about 1/2" long. There was a tiny snail as well, about the size of a pinkie nail. It makes what I call the "Double S Shuffle" to the driveway a bit treacherous...nobody wants to hear that cracking sound beneath their foot while walking. A little bomb going off. Worse yet, you don't want to look back to see that the slug you thought you had narrowly avoided has mysteriously disappeared *peeks under foot*.

All this talk about cool weather and slimy things has me thinking about a couple of incidents of 'bad behaviour' in the hockey world recently (this IS a blog by a Canadian guy...how are you NOT going to hear about hockey on a semi-regular basis?).

Here is a link to a story by a sports writer who received a racist message on his answering machine. The message was not directed at him per se, but at the management of the new Winnipeg Jets franchise for its having 5 black players on the team. The caller spewed a lot of 'Feks' and 'N-Words' in his rant. He apparently was miffed because he could not get tickets to a game and took it out on the sports writer for some reason....

In a similar tone, about two weeks ago the Philadelphia Flyers were playing an exhibition game against Detroit in my old home town of London, Ontario. The game went to a shoot out and as the Flyer's Wayne Simmonds skated towards the net for a shot, a banana was thrown on the ice in front of him from the upper deck. I should add here that I probably attended over 100 Knights games while living in London and never once saw any sort of fruit be tossed onto the ice. Let alone a banana as a black player was shooting the puck. The player ignored the racist insult, by the way, and scored on his shot. Link to story here.

There was a lot said in the media about the incident, both nationally and internationally. I have heard some talk reflecting the notion that it really wasn't THAT big a deal. Right...

London is a conservative city, and the incident speaks to the racist tones that lie just beneath the murky surface of civility. Both the banana and racist call incidents may be isolated cases of A-holes popping out of the slime, but they really indicate a racist sentiment still plaguing society. I think that this giant 'melting pot' needs a stirring.

On a side note...the 26 year old banana thrower in London was identified. The police felt that his actions did not warrant a hate crime but he was "...served a summons for engaging in a prohibited activity under the provincial Trespass to Property Act." That and the arena may ban him for a season or longer. Ouch! That slap on the wrist must really hurt. Though the man has retained a lawyer...

Second side note...Wayne Simmonds, the target of the banana thrower, was involved in his own scandal just days later in an exhibition game with the New York Rangers. Simmonds was in a scuffle with Ranger's tough-guy Sean Avery when Simmonds uttered a homophobic slur against Avery (yet another story link). For those of you who are unaware, Avery became something of an advocate for the gay rights movement when he endorsed marriage equality in the state of New York earlier this year. I guess that Simmonds didn't like that and spoke his mind in the heat of battle.

So much bad behaviour occurring around this simple game of putting a rubber disk into a net. It seems to me that folks have got to give their heads a shake and start growing the hell up. Behaviour on the ice and around the ice should be no different than in any other segment of society. People have got to get the message out that this sort of behaviour has never been acceptable, is not acceptable and never will be acceptable.

*Gets off soap box*

I'll close with a final link to a story by long-time sports writer Morris Dalla Costa of the London Free Press after the banana incident. The article is titled 'Silence can be Racism."

Well said, Morris.

Darken my Door

2011-09-28T20:56:00.000-02:30

It's been a chilly couple of days here in Newfoundland.

There has been a near hint of frost in the mornings. Or perhaps it's whitish dew. At any rate, I wouldn't want to be out there with no pants on. The chilly air and brown leaves scraping off the cold sidewalk are pointing to the fact our short summer is now over.

I've had a couple of unexpected visitors at the house during my work days this week. Nothing so dramatic as the cops or starving clowns, but visitors nonetheless. The oddest visitor was a guy selling fish door to door. Now I know you all are picturing this fellow with a cod flung over one shoulder and perhaps a trout stuffed under his armpit. If fact he had the fish in a cooler in the trunk of his car. His careful concern about keeping the sea life cool was touching, yet not enough to inspire me to purchase something from the trunk of a stranger's car.

Sorry, got off topic there. My visitor yesterday was the Liberal candidate in our riding running in the provincial election to be held in about two weeks. We exchanged pleasantries and I assured her that I was firmly undecided on how I'm going to vote. I may not know until I'm standing behind the partition of doom looking at the list of names that inspire confidence. This woman will have an uphill battle as the current premier of our province is the Progressive Conservative representative in this riding. May the force be with you, Liberal lady.

photo from KSL. com

Today I had a visit from two smiling young men with back packs. You know the guys...they represent a certain religious group and wanted to come in and discuss Jesus Christ with me (and the dog who's collar I had a death-grip on). I informed them that it wasn't necessary for them to come in and educate me on JC. "May I ask why not?" he inquired. I assured them that if I was feeling like learning more about theirs, or any other religion, I was only a short walk from a number of churches, a mosque, a synagogue and even a Buddhist temple.

What seems odd is that these young men always describe themselves as missionaries for their church. I had never thought that we up on "The Rock" were considered 'Third World' (is that PC to use that term these days?) and in need of help from missionaries. Yes, perhaps a few years ago...but not now because we have been declared a 'Have' province and are rolling in wealth from the oil industry. Then again...the new wealth for some causes a growing gap between the rich and the poor. And perhaps that leads to more crime. Maybe a little salvation isn't a bad idea after all. I'll drop by that Buddhist temple tomorrow. Or maybe the mosque. or maybe...

Patrick Boivin, new kid on the block

2011-09-20T19:33:00.000-02:30

In the summer of 2010, I posted a blog about one of my 'Bad Movie' nights with the guys. That term is a bit misleading because not all of the short or feature films we watch are necessarily 'Bad.' Some, in fact, do amazing things on a small budget. One of the short films that evening was a dark comedy called 'Le Queloune' (The Clown). I have learned more about the film's director over the past year and have taken in a few of his short films.

Patrick Boivin is a French Canadian film maker out of Montreal. He has amassed quite a following in the YouTube world over the past few years for his short stop-motion animation videos (some of which have over a million hits). I will link to some of his work below but you can see more by clicking on his name.

Mr. Boivin has now ventured into feature length films with his first movie 'Enfin l'Automne' (Fall, Finally). The movie looks at the friendship between two men and a relationship that developes between one of these men and a woman that they both like. It spans about a year time span and is beautifully shot and very professional looking considering it's $45,00 budget. It's about 68 minutes long and well worth a viewing. It has english subtitles but at times no dialogue is necessary as the actors do a great job of conveying thought and emotion through their gestures and facial expression.

The film, in a way, makes Canadian film history as it's the first Candian feature film to debut on YouTube. I think that we'll be seeing a lot more of this man's work on the Canadian film making scene.

Fez in the Wind

2011-09-15T21:28:00.003-02:30

I’m wearing my matching sou'wester hat and thong this evening to protect from the residuals of tropical storm Maria that is spiralling in our direction. Past experience has proven that the water-proof fez won’t cut it in the high winds during the storms that occasionally hit The Rock. In fact, it's been almost exactly a year since hurricane Igor dropped in for a kitchen party.

Back to the topic of headgear, I find myself wearing the fez a lot less—often going about town with no chapeau at all. In fact, I’m really quite a lightweight in the 'fezular' realm when you look at it in a global context. There are many others who don the exotic fez with far more flair than myself.

courtesy of fanpop.com

The always-popular Dr. Who wears the fez rakishly with a bit of hair poking out from the front in a care-free manner. The bow tie sets off the look perfectly (note to self...get a PhD in physics and look into purchasing better cravats.)

courtesy of alteredimagefancydress.com

Todd exudes a certain unkempt charm with his slightly unshaven face and bogus porn star moustache. He delivers pizzas week nights, but on the weekends he's an exotic dancer with the stage name 'Howard Johnson'. You should see him gyrate his tassel.

courtesy of wired.com

I don't know what her name is or anything about her. However her emerald dress and platinum hair really bring out the colour of her hat. The Masons were wise to let her into the club. I'd loan her my fez any day.

courtesy of rocketface.ca

Bruno LeDrew took too many head shots in his lengthy boxing career. He wears his fez to hide his pet squirrel Bonkers. Bruno scores points with me for that cool necklace. He obviously likes it a lot. He is one step away from getting a room with his necklace. And his little friend Bonkers.

courtesy of eeveelover893.deviantart.com

I've heard that Monica dresses like this when she goes to the opening night of the Harry Potter movies. Her friends are too embarrassed to tell her that the costume doesn't work. I think it works just fine. Her wrap nearly matches the hue of her eggplant fez. Very nice, indeed. But please stop staring at me...you're making me nervous.

courtesy of blondeswan.com (makers of fine hats)

I saved Mr. Cairo for last because he captures the look that I can only dream of attaining (on account of my grey hair). His fez is centered perfectly on his head and the black jacket and tie are perfect with his dark side burns and goatee. Mr. Cairo has perfectly captured that "Svengali meets Dos Equis guy" look. Well done, sir. Well done.

Head in the Sand

2011-09-13T21:56:00.000-02:30

Yep, that photo pretty much sums me up lately...head in the sand. Except, like, I'd have more of a gut. And pants on (except on Friday). The picture also reminds me of a tasteless joke from my misguided youth.

Why do the people in ________ (insert country of your choice) bury their dead with their butts sticking out of the ground? .... So they can be used as bicycle stands...

Moving on...my head has been in the proverbial sand recently because I've been immersed in a book. The past couple of weeks, every moment that hasn't been either work or family time has been spent reading Under the Dome by Stephen King. I've been reading his horror stories since I was about 20 or so. However in recent years I lost interest in his stories. But he has won me back with this novel. It's been many years since a story has grabbed my interest like that. If I may so bold to use the cliche...."a real page turner."

This massive tome is over 1000 pages and could be used to inflict serious harm on another human being. I strained muscles trying to hold it up to read for days. I found the first 100 pages or so a little slow as the first day developed, introducing all of the characters in the town after the 'dome' came down. You know that your novel has a lot of characters when there is a three page section listing them and what they do. I think that the book's main message is about the corruption and the abuse of power. There is also a strong environmental message here and a fine display of people thrust into an extraordinary situation rallying together.

FYI, I looked this up on IMDB and at Wikipedia and see that it's under development as a TV miniseries to be aired on Showcase some time in the distant future. I bet that today's special effects could make this visually stunning. Cool...

Aug 28, Alan remembers that he has a Blog

2011-08-28T12:12:00.000-02:30

Just yesterday it occured to me that I had been back from vacation for about 10 days and had done nothing with the photos that V had downloaded from the camera. I had promised myself the next blog post would be about our 5 days on the west coast (of this island). It was a real treat for me as we were covering places that I had never been before.

It was mid-August and the weather on this Rock had finally warmed up a bit. As a result, both flora and fauna were well represented...

Pretty flowers near the bog

The mighty bull moose

The innocent calves

The elusive loon

The snaggle-toothed llama

Well, yeah. So maybe llamas aren't the norm here, but we got to visit that character and his buddy alpacas at the Alpacas of Newfoundland on the Port au Port Peninsula, west of Stephenville. The drive around that peninsula was very scenic and we got a feel for the French heritage of the area.

Part of the trip was taking in four plays over five nights. The highlight for me was 'God of Carnage' at the Stephenville Theatre Festival. It was done in a small square room with only 25 seats for the audience in each of the corners. We also saw an interesting play called 'Stones in His Pocket' at the Gros Morne Theatre Festival in Cow Head. The story is about two men working as extras in a Hollywood production being shot in a small, Irish village. The fascinating, and at times hilarious, thing about this is that all of the parts are played by only two men with a minimum of props about them. Well worth going to if it's playing near you.

A view from the hotel room in Cow Head

While in Gros Morne National Park, we took the boat tour in Western Brook Pond. This should be a stop for all who visit the park, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. It is a scenic 45 minute hike through woods and a bog to the marina and a two hour boat trip down the pond (that is about 16km long). The water is over 500 ft deep in places and the rock walls on either side tower above at about 2000 ft. The weather thankfully cooperated and we had a wonderful time (though they really pack folks (capacity of 165) into the two boats. Note that this glacially created fjord is now fresh water and closed off from the ocean and the first tour boat had to be brought in overland through the woods.

Below are a few photos from the boat tour. I'll let the scenery speak for itself...

The walk through the bog (no rubber boots required)

Exciting stuff, though the guy in the middle need a nap.

Small water falls

Pissing Mare Falls (seriously) is about 1140 ft.

Are we there yet? I REALLY need to go...

A Little P & R (pimping and rioting)

2011-08-10T20:49:00.000-02:30

I have been avoiding TV and Internet stories about the rioting in England the past few days. It's a bit like a car crash, though, isn't it? You avert your eyes yet still take a peek on the way past to safer ground. I was shocked at the rioting in Vancouver after the Stanley Cup finals, but Britain has elevated it to a whole new level. I'm all for rightful protest and even a little civil disobedience where required but there seems no point to what has been going on in London...and Manchester...and Liverpool....and...

Anyway, I won't go on about it but my thoughts go out to my writing friends living in those cities and wish them all a quick return to normal (whatever one's definition of THAT may be).

I'll be out of town for a few days. As in no Internet access. Not quite living under plastic in the wilds but still no means of keeping up with the bloggy worlds of my friends. And speaking of friends...

I've been a lazy sod for weeks as far as writing is concerned. Not so for some of my longest running cyber-buddies:

Cate Gardner is a going concern at her blog. Her novella Barbed Wire Hearts will be published by Delerium Books in November 2011. Also...her novel Nowhere Hall will be published by Spectral Press in September 2011. Cate is a fine example of how hard work pays off, even for those that work a day job.

KV (katey) Taylor is a busy girl, what with the blog Spec Fic and Nonsense AND taking care of business at The Red Penny Papers, that fine quarterly electronic journal. Somehow she even finds time to write (I'm so jealous). Her debut novel Scripped, an Appalachian Faerie Tale, is available to pre-order from Belfire Press.

"In an attempt to escape constant arguing, Jonah Gray wanders away from the family cabin deep in the West Virginia wilderness. But he wanders too far, over the borders to a Faerie land that could only exist in Appalachia.

Faerie-napping, cold knives, underground oppressors, horror stories, and unwilling affections threaten to suck him forever into their desolate Company Town. If they do, he’ll lose himself in every way possible.

You might escape the fae, but you can never go home. Not really."

And finally, my pal K.C. Shaw's The Taste of Magic has been released as an ebook from Etopia Press.

"Analefa Miradwen has spent the last ten years avoiding vampires. She knows her blood is a delicacy, but she doesn’t want to share. Not after the last time, which nearly left her dead.

When the vampire mage Magnus begins stalking her, Ana turns to the King’s Enforcer for help. Vincent Ondarr has the manpower and the magic-power to keep her safe. According to him, Ana’s blood doesn’t just taste good, it enhances a mage’s magic.

The trouble is, Vincent’s a vampire mage too. If Ana wants to keep her blood to herself, she’ll have to figure out which one of them she can trust. And what exactly Magnus wants from her..."

A Potter Moment

2011-08-03T13:13:00.006-02:30

The boy and V and myself went to see the new Harry Potter movie on Sunday. I know, it's been out for ages. We prefer to wait until the smoke clears a bit and the pandemonium has died off a bit. And to answer your questions...NO. I did not dress up like Dumbledore, or Draco or even Dobby. I don't have enough beard to be the wizard and I prefer to leave the school boy outfit to Angus Young of AC/DC...

It amazes me how each movie in the series has gotten progressively darker. The first one was positively carefree in comparison to the last one. The subject matter in the last couple of movies doesn't seem like something that you would want to take young children to see. I have never read the books, so I can't comment on how the movies compare to the books. Perhaps somebody can comment on that. Maybe I'll get to the books one of these years.

I'll include a one minute Harry Potter summary for those, like me, who are way to busy to read all of the books. It's a cute thing stumbled across on the Internet a few days ago.

On a side note, it is Regatta Day here in St. John's. It is the 193rd instalment of the longest run annual sporting event in North America. You can read about it here. The city is more abuzz than usual as Russell Crowe is in town. Not so much for the regatta, but he has released an album with local singer Alan Doyle of the band Great Big Sea. They will be performing together in a pair of fundraising concerts this week and are promoting the release of their new album "The Crowe/Doyle Songbook, Volume III" (also featuring Crowe's wife, Danielle Spencer) available only on iTunes. Crowe and Doyle, along with two other "merry men" (Scott Grimes and Kevin Durand) from last year's Robin Hood movie are also on set to shoot for an episode of CBC's Republic of Doyle.

You can link to an interview with the pair (Crowe and Doyle) by CBC here. I'm hoping that it's accessible by my American (and Australian) friends.

The Joy of Moving. And Hockey...

2011-07-30T11:15:00.002-02:30

...and then Alan opened his eyes and realised that nearly a week had slipped past...

Yes, I'm still visiting the bloggy world when I can find the time (and something to ramble on about). I'm also still trying to keep one step ahead of the evil work overlords with their long whips (long enough to reach even me hiding on this rock in the Atlantic).

I took a couple of days off this week to help my parents move from the NW corner of Conception Bay to the Southern Shore. They had a rented U-Haul truck and there were the usual problems with reserving the truck, with realtors, with cable companies and with lawyers. A legal issue prevented us from being able to start unloading the truck until 4:30 in the afternoon. *Alan shakes fist to sky and vehemently curses the evil lawyers* (Alan is also Canadian and must now profusely apologise to any and all lawyers who are currently reading, or in the future may stumble across, this blog post). Anyway, they are in their house and now in the process of unpacking and moving furniture from here to there. And back again. One day they will have time to just sit and enjoy the view of the harbour. My dad said that this is definitely the last time they will ever move. I agreed. That is until the day we move them from the house into that nursing home with the bland food, high-fibre diet, cards three nights a week and invigorating geriatric exercises.

On a side note...our new AHL hockey team has been 'officially' named in the media. The St. John's IceCaps have now come into being. The name has been one of the worst-kept secrets in the city's memory and outrage over it has been spewed into cyberspace for about a month now. For the non-Canadians in the crowd...the name IceCaps brings to mind a certain frozen, cappuccino beverage by a certain major ~~donut~~ doughnut chain in our country (and parts of the northern US). I am in that camp of not liking the name but think the logo is tres cool looking. The top of an iceberg stylized from the Newfoundland and Labrador parts of our province. Very nice. Now is the time for whining over the name to stop and for everyone to move on in support of our local hockey team. *Alan gets off soap box (the same one he stood on when he cursed the lawyers)*.

I have put a down payment on a pair of season tickets for this new team. It's quite a chunk of money, but I'm going half's with V's sister's husband (did that make sense?). We'll also eat less lobster and more hamburger. We'll also force the boy to chip in by mowing lawns and delivering newspapers. The boy can even work George Street this tourist season by singing and dancing outside the swankier pubs...or...perhaps I should sell my body for money. I would come home from downtown with $150.25 in my pockets. V would ask me "where did the odd quarter come from." I would reply sheepishly, "Everyone."

I'm to go to the arena tomorrow to select the two seats that we will plant our butts in this inaugural season. I'm live in hope that there are a few moderate views of the ice surface left as we are near the bottom of the pecking order as far as priority on the season's ticket list is concerned.

It may be July in Canada but the smell of professional hockey is in the air--the first sign that winter is coming to the north. We will be there to support our team and certainly don't want the weeks to slip past unnoticed.

Let the games begin.

Can These Guys Jump, or What?

2011-07-24T21:08:00.000-02:30

The coolest thing about the Internet is the opportunity to see weird and wonderful things (no, not THOSE things). It's really very educational out there. Mostly.

One can use it to 'travel' to other parts of the world and experience cultures in an indirect sort of way. I saw a story today about a popular south-east Asian sport I had never heard of before. Sepak Takraw is kind of a cross between volleyball and hackeysack. A team of three has to keep a rattan ball in the air using only their feet, knees and head (basically, anything but their hands) and then send it over the net to score a point against their opposition. I was once able to jump and twist like that (did I just hear someone call bulls*&t?) Here's a 2 1/2 minute sampling...

While reading the Wikipedia info on this (linked to above) I discovered that they have an association here in Canada. After watching the video, I got thinking that it reminded me of the Inuit sport of high kicking that is part of the World Eskimo Indian Olympics held every other year in the North. There is the one foot and two foot variety of kicking. Here is a short video of that...

All interesting stuff. Maybe the world is now a closer place and learning more about each other all the time. If I may quote Martha Stewart, "...and that's a good thing."

I've Been Memed!

2011-07-20T21:31:00.000-02:30

I know...I promised to post my answers to this meme on the weekend but somehow life throws curve balls at you (or perhaps sour grapes, or even Yorkshire puddings once in a while). We had a bit of a family situation come up that is now mostly resolved and we can move on. Don't worry...nobody died and I'm reasonably sure there was no blood-letting. Also, believe me when I say that no moose were harmed during the commission of this family drama...

Anyway, who's dad didn't say "When somebody hits you, hit 'em right back" at some point of time. In my case, I was memed by my good friend Katey Taylor at her blog KV Taylor--Spec Fic and Nonsense. Umm...I guess I can't meme her back because the game doesn't work that way. I imagine that I'll have to "pay it forward" (see my ~~victims~~ selections later on). Check out Katey's blog...if she's not there, perhaps you can find her lurking at The Red Penny Papers (an electronic journal of sensationalist and fantastical fiction).

Onwards...

Are you a rutabaga?

Not exactly, but I DID once have an old girlfriend call me a cabbage. Is that close enough?

When was the last time you ate lion meat?

You know what? I've never eaten lion meat (I know, I've had a sheltered life). Does a nice goat curry work as a substitute for Simba? How about shark steak...

Upload a heartwarming picture of something that makes you smile.

Baby pics can be very heartwarming. Lord knows, I've thrown enough pics up here recently to be an authority. There are probably underlying stories going on here. A commentary on violence with today's youth? Perceptions of French-English relations in Canada? Stuff like that. Or perhaps its simply a little Habs fan giving a little Leafs fan a left cross. Or maybe its just a clever segue to the next question...

If you could go back in time and kick the crap out of someone, who would it be?

Hmmm....most of the boys (and some of the girls) in the 6th grade for starters. Perhaps I was teased mercilessly because my mother dressed me funny--it WAS the 70's after all--or maybe it was because I was just a little a**hole...luckily for those folks, I have taken a path of non-violence. As my cousin, wise sage and long-distance truck driver, used to say, "I won my last fight by 50 yards."

Name one habit that makes other people plot your demise.

I've heard that my biting my fingernails can be quite annoying. It's a habit that I picked up from my father in my childhood (that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it). My God...the things my mother used to do to get me to stop. Punishments, harsh words, tying on mittens at night (I know that some of you are thinking that the mitten thing was during my teen years). She even used to paint nasty tasting 'stuff' onto my nails. I got used to the taste. People around me should be happy that I've made progress over the years. At least I'm no longer biting my toenails...

What song would you like to be playing while you are kicking the crap out of someone?

If I were to venture into crap-kicking I think that I would like a little Great Big Sea accompaniment. Something lively with a good beat. It seems to me that question is right out of "A Clockwork Orange."

Where da muffin top at?

He, he, he...when we were kids, my cousin's nickname (a different cousin) was the Muffin Man. I think that was on account of the shape of his face and head. In retrospect, after close scrutiny of my once-svelt body, I think that I should have been given that nickname...let's move on...and could you pass me another Danish, please?

How many goats, stacked atop one another like Yertle’s Turtles, would it take to reach the moon?

It seems to me that one would reach the moon faster if giraffes were used. I'm wondering, though, if they will be more prone to the effects of wind and such than goats. *Goes off for another cup of coffee to ponder this*

Describe yourself using obscure Latin words.

I'm always thinking ahead (and some would say worrying too much). Non incautus futuri apparently means "Not Unmindful of the Future". Yeah, that works. Needless to say, I didn't know that off the top of my head and perused Wikipedia for a while to find a suitable response.

Why does evil exist?

To maintain a fine balancing act with good, of course. Then again if there was no evil what would horror writers have to write about?

What the chiz are you thinking right now?

I'm wondering what the frig does 'chiz' mean? Going to online Urban Dictionary now...

Tag five people who will have amusing answers if they choose to do this. No hard feelings if not, of course. But it’ll be fun! (or a decent time-waster.

1. Cathy Webster

2. Laurita Miller

3. John Wiswell

4. Gigi

5. Harry Sanderford

Pick a funny nickname for number 1.

The Muskoka Mistress of Hilarity Who is So, So, Pretty.

Make up a rhyme about number 2.

There once was a girl from the shore who wrote day and night until the words she could think of no more...

Where would number 3 hide in the event of the apocalypse?

I daresay John would seek shelter in his bathroom. Perhaps passing the time by sitting. And working on another monologue or maybe a satire.

Where does number 4 purchase her pants?

Ya know what...if I was to answer such a question about Gigi with any degree of accuracy I'd be branded some sort of a creepy stalker guy. In a fez (does it get any creepier than THAT!)

What would number 5′s favorite dance move be?

I'm picturing him busting a move, doing some sort of a cowboy boot, Yee-haw'n line dance. Oh, yeah, it would involve a surf board some how. I can't imagine why.

Oh, the Rumours...

2011-07-14T22:26:00.000-02:30

Yeah, I know that the Vanity Project ended a week ago and there's been radio silence at Land's Edge ever since. I had to drop in to address rumours that I have been hearing about me in the darkest corners of cyberspace...

The rumours that I had passed away while eating a piece of toast are not true. However, the rumour that I nearly hit a moose on the highway 12 days ago is correct. If not for my cat-like reflexes at slamming my foot on the break peddle I would have had a lap dance from a 1200 lb moose. It's a good thing I always keep a clean set of underpants in the glove compartment...

The rumour that I was offered a juicy book deal was not true. However, I did manage to finish a story and submit it to this year's Cuffer Prize here on The Rock. I was going for two stories but finished only one. A 50% completion rate. What would you think if, just as the mask was placed on your face and you were counting backwards from 10, your surgeon told you that they were in the 50th percentile of their class...?

The rumour that I had won the Atlantic Lotto was greatly exaggerated. However, I did manage to find 38 cents while vacuuming under the cushions of the couch. I know, who am I kidding? Me, vacuum?

I was going to post a few answers to a meme I was recently ~~clobbered~~ honoured with. But I think that I will leave it until the week end so that I can give the questions some deeper reflection *snort*. Then again, it's our anniversary on Saturday and I may get sidetracked with tidying up (vacuuming and such) the place before my parents drop by for a visit. Isn't that the time most people tidy up? When company is dropping by?

Vanity Project- Part X

2011-07-07T11:59:00.014-02:30

Part 10...where Alan FINALLY uses up those photos...

Is that a collective sigh of relief I hear? I know, my friends, I have pushed your patience to the limit with all of those photos and I promise that this is the last batch and I won't make you endure any more (assuming there is still anyone reading my blog by today...) Thanks especially to Gigi, Cathy and Laurita for hanging in there the entire project and commenting all the way.

This was March, 2010 on one of those double-decker bus tours in Manhattan. One eye is on the camera while the other is watching for low hanging traffic lights...

This was the second part of the same trip last year. Sean and I were preparing to ice skate on the lower deck of the cruise ship we were on. A side note: we will next be able to afford a to take a cruise in 2020. Maybe.

The next three photos were taken on an overland bus tour I took from Sept. 1990 to Jan. 1991 from London, England to Kathmandu. The proverbial 'trip of a lifetime'. I got it into my head to quit my job and give up my apartment and take the plunge. I recommend this type of adventure for those who like foreign countries, camping and travelling on a small budget.

This is on the travertine (limestone) deposit at Pamukkale, Turkey in Oct. 1990. It is part of the Hierapolis, an ancient Greco-Roman city that is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site

A horseback/camel trek in the desert near Giza, Egypt. S%#&! I think I'm wearing the same shirt as in the previous picture!

This is on Christmas Day 1990 in Udaipur, India. Don't even ask me why Aussie Pete and I are dressed that way (notice that one leg of my shorts is longer than the other--hey, I think I still have those in a drawer somewhere). It's TOO long a story...

Vanity Project- Part IX

2011-07-06T11:59:00.000-02:30

The silly side of Alan...

My younger sister was here on vacation three years ago. She doesn't always look that grumpy. I think she wasn't feeling very well
.

Father's Day lobster boil up three years ago. This one's called "Smokin' da fish"...where I bite the head off a smoked caplin. They're really very nice...taste like chicken...

Playing cards with my mother on Christmas Day three years ago. Like a boy scout, I am wearing my warm hat and am prepared for anything. Umm...am I wearing that damned shirt AGAIN! Note to self: Go to closet today and throw out brown shirt...

Vanity Project- Part VIII

2011-07-05T11:59:00.001-02:30

Just me and the boy...

It occurred to me that in that last family post I didn't include a photo of Sean. I have posted three below from the archives.

This one was shortly after we found the lad in the cabbage patch. I'm sure that 'V' has a different version of how we acquired the boy. Note that I am looking feverishly for the instruction manual that was supposed to be included.

I think this was taken in 2007. We were over on Bell Island and took the tour of the abandoned iron ore mine. Spooky. Whoa, look how short the kid is. It's hard to believe that he's nearly as tall as me now!

On vacation last year. Somewhere warmer and with nicer water than around here. I look very svelt when photographed from the shoulders up. I should insist that I only be photographed this way in the future.

Vanity Project- Part VII

2011-07-04T11:59:00.001-02:30

Happy 4th of July to my American friends.

This weekend was the Canada day weekend and a good time to get together with family.

Here's a few shots of the vain one with family in days past.

Yep, with my mum and dad on wedding day back in '94. I just don't have the knees to wear a kilt.

The auld y'ins arms stopped working so I fed him his Christmas trifle.

At the lookout at Grate's Cove, Newfoundland with my mum and 'V' (er...am I wearing the SAME shirt as that iceberg photo from the other day?)

Vanity Project- Part VI

2011-07-03T11:59:00.003-02:30

The infamous hair day...

I know, I've gone on a lot about baldness....from the fine fundraising of Laurita Miller of Calling Shotgun to the shaving-of-the-head-to-make-a-buck by the boy...

This is the final word on the hair thing. These were taken by co-workers at the steel plant back in Aylmer, Ontario when I and another employee shaved our noggins to fundraise for a couple of local food banks back in 2003. They stopped production for half and hour and we had an audience of over 100 people...

My mugshot...pre-haircut. I let the hair and beard grow unfettered for about 5 months before the cut.

Look at the hair sticking out like wings. With a bit of white face paint and red lipstick I could look like Bobo the Clown. Or perhaps like the guy below...

Still have the beard to be shaved off. Look at that round, Charlie Brown cranium. Some of the guys at work figured I looked like a biker (no offence to the real bikers out there).

Vanity Project- Part V

2011-07-02T11:59:00.001-02:30

Me, standing about by the water...

I've only just noticed the number of pictures of me there are out there with me striking a pose near the water. I bet that a psychological professional could have a field day with me on the couch. That didn't sound right, did it?

In Goa, India back in 2008. Was there to help with training of sub-contractors we used back then (don't get me started on THAT...)

Visting the ecological reserve at Cape St. Mary's here in Newfoundland (and trying to suck in my gut)

Look closely...notice my catch of the day at Gull Island pond. Bait fish...

Vanity Project- Part IV

2011-07-01T11:59:00.002-02:30

Would you like some ice with that...

Icebergs are part of the experience when visiting Newfoundland and Labrador...in the right place at the right time. We have been up to Fogo and down the southern shore to see these beauties since moving to The Rock. Prime time is approximately mid-May to mid July. That being said, the only icebergs visible the past three summers have been along the north coast, up the northern penninsula and Labrador. Perhaps there IS something to that global warming business. I'll let the next few pics speak for themselves. They were taken mostly in 2007 and 2008.

Fogo, 2008

Quidi Vidi gut.

Bryant's Cove (notice the size compared to the houses along the shore)

I call this one the Sydney Opera House...

Tor's Cove, 2008

Vanity Project- Part III

2011-06-30T11:59:00.007-02:30

A boy and his dog...and I'm not referring to that odd sci-fi flick from 1975 starring Don Johnson (who?)

Looking at icebergs in Tors Cove, 2008. Our greyhound, Jet, is not impressed by the display and is stealthily planning his escape.

Playing with Jet and his visiting greyhound friend (the late Mat) in our back garden.

Greyhounds are described by some as "40mph couch potatoes". Jet is shy and doesn't have much personality. Here he is having a rare moment of what I think is glee. Or perhaps he was getting in better position to pass gas.

Vanity Project- Part II

2011-06-29T12:45:00.000-02:30

Then and now...

This gem is one of me and my dad on high school graduation day (aged 17). Two facts: I can still fit into that suit (Har! Right!) and my dad (avec hair) cleaned up pretty good, though my mother dressed him funny too.

"OK, look...I'll trade you this mitfull of possible winning draw tickets for that half consumed cup of rum and Coke." Notice the lady behind me. She's either very shy or she's praying for her number to come up.

Vanity Project-part I

2011-06-28T12:01:00.004-02:30

In the beginning...

A wee, rosy-cheeked Alan in 1965 with our new fox terrier Tuesday. We had arrived in Canada (Victoria, B.C.) eight months earlier and I probably babbled at the puppy with an undecipherable Scottish accent. Ach!

Flash forward to 1975 where I show off our baseball trophy as playoff champs. I am smiling here. This was not the case a year earlier when our team (a different one) went 0-18 for the season. I look at that shirt and am reminded of the fact that my mother dressed me funny. And don't get me started on the hair!

The Point? I'm Going into Hiding

2011-06-27T21:09:00.000-02:30

The last post about the bald-headed boy with a little point on top got me thinking about a cartoon I saw as a kid. Those of you of the same vintage as myself may remember The Point! by the late Harry Nilsson. The animated feature from 1971 is a fable about a round headed boy named Oblio in a land where everything has a point. The original cartoon was narrated by Ringo Starr and Mike Lookinland (Bobby of the Bradey Bunch) did the voice of Oblio. For those of you that don't follow the link to the Wikipedia write up, I'll share the quote from Harry Nilsson that appears there.

"I was on acid and I looked at the trees and I realized that they all came to points, and the little branches came to points, and the houses came to point. I thought, 'Oh! Everything has a point, and if it doesn't, then there's a point to it.'" – Harry Nilsson

Har. They don't make cartoon like THAT any more!

I did a blog post a few weeks back about children's programming (or something like that). It had probably the poorest response I've seen in a long time. Then again, HR Pufnstuff isn't everybody's cup of tea...I hope this link to little Oblio and his dog Arrow proves more entertaining.

I will be buried in work all this week as we near the month end. I also have to finish two flash stories of a 'local flavour' to submit to the annual Cuffer Prize hosted by the Telegram and a local publisher. The deadline is July 9 and I only have one complete (and in dire need of an edit). The other story is only a hazy idea in my head. Perhaps I need to watch some psychedelic cartoons for inspiration.

The bottom line is that I will be 'out of the loop' for a couple of weeks. Therefore 'V' and myself have culled through the Davidson archives and cued up several photos of myself from over the years for your ~~mockery~~ enjoyment (coz you know that I NEVER post photos of myself ;). If you have followed this blog for a long time some of them may be familiar but I think most will be new to you. I think that I will call this the Vanity Project...enjoy and feel free to add your own captions to the daily photos...

AWOL

2011-06-25T11:40:00.001-02:30

Hello. I am Alan Davidson and I am a lazy writer.

Forgive me, reader. It's been nine days since my last ~~confession~~ blog post.

I honestly don't know where the time went. West, I believe. It's not that there's nothing going in around me to ~~rant~~ ~~whine~~ talk about. I'm finding that after the work day, when the supper dishes are cleared away, I only have enough energy to drag my lazy butt to the family room couch to watch repeat episodes of Criminal Minds or CSI.

Perhaps my lack of motivation is weather related? I promised myself that I wouldn't whine about the weather any more. However...I was just watching the Weather Network and they are forecasting a high of only 12C today (54F). That makes us the coldest spot in Canada today (and probably all of North America). Even up in Yellowknife they're forecasting a balmy 24C (78F). The normal highs for this time of year should be 19C. I used to joke about us not having a summer, only a spring and then a fall. Har! Joke's on me. I guess that I'll have to wear my fur-lined fez for a while longer.

The cool temps had us dining indoors at our annual Father's Day Lobster cook-up last Sunday. The combined gathering of the Finch-Stansbury-Davidson families is hosted by my sister-in-law and her husband. I won't bore you with more photos of this year's event, but you can link to my last year post about the spectacle here and the year before here. The day was pretty much like those...except with parkas and mittens.

Young man escapes from Gulag

The boy notices the cool temperature more because of his bald head. Did I not mention that? During his exams last week he went out with a couple of friends and had all of his hair cut off. Just him. His friends were there for moral support. Or to mock him. I think that he committed this hair-i-cide for a couple of reasons. First, he is off to cadet camp in a couple of weeks. That's a 6 week course at the army cadet camp (Camp Argonaut) at CFB Gagetown, near Oromocto, New Brunswick. Sean is with the army cadets because he is taking (this was not his first choice) a course to be a marksmanship instructor. He won't be with his sea cadet friends in Nova Scotia this summer, but he's looking at it as one grand adventure. I guess that he figures the bald head will help him fit in better with the army cadets. Good luck with that.

He perked up when he wore the fez of honour

The second reason with the hair cutting is that a girl at school bet him $10 that he wouldn't get his hair cut off. Some folks cut off their hair for noble, fundraising reasons like my friend Laurita Miller. Others cut off their hair to impress girls and for monetary gain. I'm thinking that he's in that second category. The next day at school there was no money for Sean. Seems to me that there is a life lesson somewhere in there. Actually, to the girl's credit, she came to school the following day with a zip-loc baggy with $10 of loose change for the boy. We're slowly getting used to the look. I'll throw up a couple of photos of Sean sporting his bald pate. I notice that he's got a bit of a pointy thing happening at the top of his head. He hasn't got the round-head perfection of Charlie Brown.

New topic...the lease is up soon on our van and we are looking for a new vehicle. We've been leaning towards something SUV-ish. Probably a Ford Escape or a Jeep Patriot. Something large enough to tote around the boy and a greyhound, yet affordable. Anyone have any opinions on these or similar types of vehicles?

Bonus photos below...I have no idea where the bald-thing comes from...

Fez-boy and the Auld Yin, December 2003

V's creative use for that empty piece of real estate

Hockey Madness in Vancouver

2011-06-16T08:43:00.003-02:30

I watched most of last night's Stanley Cup final hockey game. The writing was pretty much on the wall near the end of the second period when Patrice Bergeron made it 3-0 with a shorthanded goal on Vancouver's Roberto Luongo during a Canuck power play. Note to Luongo: Karma's a bitch, eh? Guess that trash-talking of Boston goalie Tim Thomas didn't pay off for you. Even veterans like 43 year old Mark Recchi were swarming the Vancouver net minder. Great job, Bruins. I know that my cousin back in Victoria is proud of you this morning as he's been a Boston fan since we were kids and they last won the cup in 1972 with stars such as Bobby Orr, Phil Esposito, Johnny Bucyk, Gerry Cheevers and John "Pieface" Mckenzie. Cousin Derek and the fine city of Boston have waiting a long time for this. Congratulations.

What interests me more, though, this morning is the rioting in the streets of Vancouver last night. I'll start off by saying that I lived in Vancouver for two years back in the mid-80's. Back in the days that I thought that I had a future in the mining industry out there. The city is fantastic and one of the most most beautiful urban centres on the planet. That being said...they have a bit of a problem dealing with defeat. This is the third time that the Canucks have made it to the finals in the team's history. The third time that they have lost. Some may remember their last appearance was in 1994 when they lost to New York Rangers in game 7 in Vancouver. They rioted in the streets after that one as well. They also rioted after the Guns N' Roses concert of 2002 was cancelled at the last minute after Axl Rose failed to show up.

Photo Credit: Ryan Remiorz/CP

As I noted, Vancouver holds a special place for me and they are the jewel in the Canadian crown but this morning, as I look at the damage in photographs online only hours after the game, I'm saddened and consider them the 'black eye' of the country. They have a bad track record. Probably 99.9% of the people on the streets last night (and there were over 100,000 of them) were peace-loving fans who were out to support the team and the fantastic season that they gave their supports. The police need to round up the trouble makers, instigators, hooligans, etc. and parade them in front of the media and set an example. There may be times when civil unrest is warranted, but the end of a disappointing hockey game is not one of them. It's a game. Vancouver, and perhaps all of Canada, needs to examine the underlying issues and try to determine where all of that anger is coming from.

Photo Credit: Wilson Wong/CBC

I'll finish off by congratulating the Bruins fans out there (especially those of Michael Ryder from Bonavista here on The Rock). For those in Vancouver? Yeah, last night sucked. Today will suck too. I hope that those that participated in that madness last night can look at themselves in the mirror today and feel proud. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day for you all. I'll close by throwing out a few Twitter messages that CBC had published this morning. Short, to the point, and hopefully a better representation of the feelings of the average Vancouverite and Canadian.

"Watching this riot makes me sad, and sick to my stomach.. What an embarrassment." annachelsea

"This proves we don't deserve the Stanley Cup. With so many people around to let this happen... Makes me sad." #canucks #riot     shanebee

"In other countries people riot against oppression or for equality, in Canada we don't do any of that..... unless its over a hockey game."     Nathan Jordan

"Today, I am ashamed of the Canadians who have been rioting in the streets for the last 3 hours. It's a GAME. The Christians didn't riot when the rapture didn't happen as prophesied, why is a GAME more reason to riot then? GIVE YOUR HEADS A SHAKE! You have a responsibility first to uphold the integrity of our country's image and civic pride. We aren't animals. We're Canadians."     Dane Martin

Name That Tune

2011-06-14T08:17:00.000-02:30

I wasn't a singer as a kid. I sucked at it. Dogs would run away when I sang. That's why I took up the violin in the 5th grade. The dogs would stay around but they howled pitifully. I'm still not sure if they were singing along or if they were in agony. I think humming is a safer musical pursuit. I'm not very good at that either, but at least the ears of those around me don't bleed. Much.

A BBC story on the Internet caught my eye this morning. Residents in Woodland, a village in county Durham, England, have been experiencing a constant buzzing noise that some attribute to abandoned mine shafts in the area. Sounds like something out of the X-Files (apparently this was the subject of an episode of the popular show, but I don't remember it). The phenomenon has actually been documented in other parts of the world for 40 years. There have been similar incidents in Bristol, England in Bondi, NSW, Australia and in Taos, New Mexico. Hey...isn't that near Roswell? I know, it would be easy to play the UFO card at this point as the experts still haven't come up with an explanation. Some believe that it's a form of tinnitus while others think that it's related to machinery or equipment operating in nearby factories. Link to the Wikipedia page here. I'm thinking that it's those 7 bearded, little men swinging their pick axes in the shafts below ground. Or UFO's...

Have you ever heard strange noises? (And I'm not talking about the couple in the next apartment)

We could have a St. John's Hum but I probably wouldn't hear it anyways because it would be drowned out by those voices I hear in my head.

Ain't No Sunshine

2011-06-08T19:41:00.000-02:30

We in St. John’s are beginning to understand what it’s like to be a mushroom. Kept somewhat moist and warm and in the dark. The fog started rolling in from the Atlantic late Saturday and we haven’t seen the sky since.

The following screen shots are from the harbour cam on top of The Rooms, our provincial museum high up the hill that overlooks downtown. On a normal day (as per the first shot) you can see blue sky, Signal Hill and the brackish water of the harbour (just be thankful it’s just the sights and NOT the smells). The second shot has been our view for the past four days.

Notice the cruise ship coming in through the narrows

Like something from a Stephen King movie

Thankfully we’re not really into tourist season yet. Maybe the fog will lift by July…

Speaking of impeded views…I read a blog today that mentioned a recent article by Roger Ebert of the Chicago Sun-Times. I linked to Ebert's Journal and read ‘The Dying of the Light’, a fascinating look at the onslaught of 3D digital movies by Hollywood and the new projectors that produce “gloomy, underlit images.” Mr. Ebert also points out that many theatres are leaving the 3D lenses in the projectors (mainly because the new projectors are very complex to open), even for 2D films, and the result is that the lens absorbs 50% of the light trying to pass through. Use the link to pop over and check out his story.

In an effort to lift the spirits this gloomy evening, I’ll link to a video of George Harrison singing "Here Comes the Sun". Every little bit helps.

Things in Glossy Wrappers

2011-06-05T21:17:00.002-02:30

Did another week fly by already? Has anyone noticed that the older you get the faster time flies by? Kind of a logarithmic equation, for those of you math inclined.

If time is going to whiz by, I wish it would do it with summer-like temps. We’ve been trapped in the fog today at Land's Edge. Not raining, but damp and only 10C (50F or so). Too wet to mow the lawn. He, he, he…that’s a shame.

All week I’ve waited by my mailbox for a very special delivery. One day I heard the lid on the small, wooden box slam shut and I leaped to the door only to find my copy of Cat Fancy* magazine. You know the issue…the one with the sexy Persian on the cover (Did I just say that out loud? I only meant to think it).

The next day I heard the mailbox and sprang into action. Alas, it was only the current issue of Scenthouse magazine. Glossy pages aplenty--all with fine articles and stunning photography. The wafting aroma of lavender from the centerfold was especially titillating to the olfactory system.

Notice my devil eye.

Finally, on Friday, the package I had been waiting for all week had arrived. It had come to The Rock from eastern Tennessee, therefore I figured that the box probably didn’t contain Jack Daniels*. Inside was Leather, Denim & Silver~ Legends of the Monster Hunter (edited by Miles Boothe). I won this Pill Hill Press anthology in a contest held by my online buddy KC Shaw of The Knotted Thicket. Sure, I wanted to win the anthology so I could read her story “Antler and Eye,” but I was really gunning for the additional prize…the Underwood Deviled Ham* stamp that she had especially made up years ago. Wicked cool! Many thanks, Kate. I really appreciate the anthology and demonic logo.

The first thing I did was try to stamp my fez, but ‘V’ smacked me before I could sully the treasured hat. I made do with stamping my arm. That's the closest thing I’ve had to a tattoo since the second grade when Wendell stenciled the Hot Wheels* logo on my forehead. Well, there was the time in the third grade that I tried to stencil that Empire State Building on my…

Ignore the fact I bite my nails

*Inevitable Disclaimer~The author of this blog is not intentionally endorsing the products: Jack Daniels, Underwood Deviled Ham, Hot Wheels or the lovely Cat Fancy Magazine. However, he IS open to receiving free schtuff. From anyone, anywhere...

On Awards and Guys in Fat Suits

2011-05-31T20:17:00.000-02:30

I've had a few days of R & R since the end of the contest and am ready to resume the regularly scheduled programming...whatever that is. I am still unable to post comments at a lot of blogs. I hate blogger.

Thanks again to all who entered and participated in some fashion during the run of the contest. Laurita and I will be meeting shortly to package up the books and send them off to the recipients. You can expect those to arrive before the snow flies.

It's business as usual about here. Not a lot of drama. I had my final basketball game of the season last night. There were only four players per team, so no substitutions meant no time off the court. It was an exhausting hour. Fortunately, we had on hand several tanks of oxygen, a defibrillator and a Saint Bernard with a tiny keg of brandy.

Hit zero gravity button...

The boy had his grade 9 carnival last week at the school. That is the year-end activity the school now holds instead of a graduation ceremony and dance. It's a fun evening at the school with lots of fun schtuff set up. The bouncy castle, fly-paper wall
and the sumo suits were but a few of the activities. They found that the formal affairs were getting out of hand. The ball gowns, tuxes and limos were getting a bit much for their age bracket and those in charge chose to take a step back. Good choice.

*Sniff* I'm a little verklempt right now

They also held a 'Student Choice Awards' where the grade nine's could vote for their peers in several categories. Best smile, most unique hair style (male and female), best strut (male and female) and most forgetful were a few of the categories. Sean's friend 'K' won the award for student most likely to 'take over the world'. I am proud to announce that Sean brought home the award for 'Funniest Student'. I quizzed him on that...funny as in 'strange' or funny 'Ha-ha'. It makes a difference, and the answer will also determine what side of the family THAT came from. I reminded him that the honour wasn't likely to help him much in his goal of gaining entry to the Marine Institute here in St. John's...no matter how many Billy Connolly jokes he told.

Lost on the Rock Contest - Honourable Mention

2011-05-27T07:28:00.000-02:30

*Note to all* Blogger appears to have been going through some issues yesterday. I wasn't able to post comments and I received an email from somebody telling me that they couldn't post at this blog. If you tried to post a comment to any of this week's stories or interviews and could not, please go back and try again today as I'm sure the writer's would appreciate the feedback.

We bring the Lost on the Rock week to a close with our honourable mention stories. I am presenting Numbers, by Gerard Smith of London, England. The theme of 'Loss' tended to produce sad, melancholy or even horrific stories. Gerald's serendipitous tale really caught the judge's attention as it offered up a possibility of hope. Check out his blog All kinds a random. It definitely is, as the banner at the top of his blog describes...Observation. Opinion. Experience. Random. Stuff.

Also, please take a moment to drop by Laurita Miller's blog, Calling Shotgun. She is presenting Simply Lost by (the one and only) John Wiswell.

We now present Numbers, by Gerard Smith...

Numbers

The girl was frantically shouting out numbers as she chased after the departing tube train. When it was gone she dropped, deflated.

She rose again: hopeful, "Did anyone get the last two numbers?" Silence of course – Londoners.

She was gloriously beautiful, as was the guy on the opposite platform with whom she flirted; the electricity between them as potent as that which flowed through the tracks that separated them. I saw the sparks.

On the train I approached her, "Excuse me."

She looked at me warily, London wary.

"Zero, nine – the lad on the other train, they were the last two numbers, I'm sure." She scribbled them on her hand, thanked me and smiled – wow!

I envied that guy. He had power. Girls never looked at me, let alone run after trains for my number. In the days that followed I looked out for them; had my vigilance united the glorious couple? I saw nothing more of them.

Day in day out I took that tube train: to spend my days balancing books, my evenings watching TV.

For fourteen years Lucy enriched my life. The thought of going home to her buoyed my day. I was bereft when she died, yet her death elicited little sympathy from my colleagues – she was a cat. I mourned her loss alone.

The years, like the tube trains, just trundled away.

The colour gradually drained from my life. Numbers became harder to crunch; a misplaced numeral ensured the loss of my job. I didn't take the tablets the Doctor prescribed; oblivion seemed preferable.

When I felt the familiar rumble of the approaching train, I closed my eyes. I felt serene falling forward, ready.

Someone grabbed me!

"What you doing man, you were gonna frigging jump?"

It was a young man, so full of life, so familiar?

"No!” I lied.

"You freaked me out." He had an American accent.

Our eyes met – did I see them both in him, that glorious couple from years ago?

He put his hand on my shoulder, "Are you OK?"

His empathy soothed me, " Yes, thank you, thank you so much.” When he smiled I was left in no doubt, he had his Mother’s smile – wow!

The blackness lifted and left me.

I wondered if it was serendipity that placed him there to heal me? But no, I believe that someone, somewhere, arranges things: thank goodness, thank God.

Bio: I’m Gerard Smith, a 45 year old Director in a Healthcare Communications Agency. Although Irish, I’ve lived and worked in London for 23 years; I love the city, it’s become home. I’ve only recently started writing, spurred on by the short/micro/flash fiction genre, which really suits my impatient need to know what happens ASAP (without compromising on story.)

Interview With Michael Jackson

2011-05-26T07:09:00.000-02:30

Today's interview is with Michael Jackson, 4th place winner in the Lost on the Rock contest. I had considered changing the title of this post to 'Interview with Mike Jackson' so as not to confuse fans of a certain entertainer. Actually, I don't mind if thousands flock to my site accidentally. Perhaps they will read about THIS Michael Jackson, of Warrington in the UK, and want to flock to his blog and read more of his fiction.

Our Mike Jackson is a former primary school teacher and has only joined the writing game since he retired two years ago. He used to love telling stories to the children at school and now enjoys writing the stories at his blog MJShorts. His story Where is Esther? appears today at Laurita's blog Calling Shotgun.

Have you ever been lost? Physically? Emotionally? Grammatically?

I don't remember ever being lost physically or emotionally but at the moment feel a little lost with a children's book I'm writing. It's my first attempt at a book and the first three chapters seemed to fly on to the page but since February I've become bogged down. It's as if I've lost my way - I've tried going back to the beginning and picking my way through to see where the problem lies, but I'm still lost. I've decided to leave it alone for a while and see what happens. It might be that I have to abandon this journey and set off on a new one.

Tell us about your writing. What is your favorite genre? Do you have a favorite story or character you’ve written?

I only started writing 'properly' when I retired just under two years ago. For the first 12 months or so I concentrated on two blogs - one was about education and the other a more general 'rambling thoughts'. In December 2010 I started a new blog to post my short stories. This has become both fun and addictive. I find myself experimenting with short stories, flash fiction, dribbles, drabbles, 5x5 stories, twitter stories. I enjoy responding to the different writing prompts that fellow bloggers are often posting.

I'm not sure if I've settled on a specific genre yet. Many of the stories on the blog are humourous and some are science fiction/fantasy. I plan to write a children's book and it will be fantasy. I also enjoy writing dialogue only stories, one of my favourites is 'Life In a box'.

Where is your writing space?

My writing space is my 'Studio' - my wife calls it my shed. I made it myself, cedar wood shingle roof, fully insulated t keep out the cold and wet, it has it's own electricity supply and Internet. I keep a lot of my books in there, numerous writing pads/journals, it's got a very comfy armchair and a lovely view of the garden. I can, and often do, spend hours in there.

Are you working on anything right now?

At the moment I am developing my blog of short stories, trying to get to grips with Twitter, wondering whether, as a writer, I should have a Facebook page and about to embark on writing chapter 4 of this elusive children's book I've started.

When you think of Newfoundland, what pops into your mind?

Newfoundland - the first thing that pops into my mind is Canada and snow. As a child I remember being told that the explorer who discovered it called it Newfoundland because it was a 'New Found Land' - I loved the simplicity of the idea.

Bio: I've come to 'writing' late in life but have always enjoyed telling stories. As a primary school teacher and for 25 years a Headteacher I had lots of children to tell stories to! I've been retired for almost two years now and am thoroughly enjoying the time and the freedom to write. I enjoy writing stories for my 'Short Stories' blog and meeting lots of other enthusiastic writers/bloggers.

My Blog: http://mjshorts.wordpress.com/

Lost on the Rock Contest - 3rd Place

2011-05-25T07:04:00.002-02:30

Our third place winner in the Lost on the Rock contest is Sue Harding of Warwickshire, England. I understand that some of her intimates refer to as the "Knitting Assassin". Perhaps that's because she hangs about with so many of those noir-ish types. I have had occasion to drop in on her blog I Refuse To Go Quietly! and have always enjoyed the writing she presents.

Take a moment to drop by Laurita's Calling Shotgun to read our interview with Sue. We'd now like to present Oubliette, another fine tale...

OUBLIETTE

If I climb to the top of the stairs, there is a low door leading into a small attic. I come up here when the memories become too real. This is my place of ‘leaving behind’ the pain; it is my oubliette, my place of forgetting.

No-one else comes here. Only one other knows of it and he is sworn to secrecy. It is something we share and yet he can only ever wait outside because I will not let him in.

It was all so long ago and yet I remember it as sharply as if it was just happening. In some ways, perhaps, it still is.

Neville knows not to come in. We have been together so many, many years and yet I have never allowed him into my secret room. Obligingly, he has never asked. He merely accepts that from time to time I need to withdraw from life and be separate.

It was Neville, you see, who found out what had happened all those years ago. He had been exploring the woods and had come across the old potting shed at the back of the old nursery. It was all broken down and overgrown; the glasshouses standing vacant, the panes broken or missing.

I’d stopped crying by then, afraid it was the nasty man come back to check on me after he'd pushed me down into that dungeon-like cellar. When I felt the noise of footsteps above me I panicked in the darkness and stumbled into a pile of old clay plant pots. With his curiosity aroused Neville had discovered the door and pulled it open.

Thinking to make my escape, I’d leapt forward snarling and spitting like a cat, ready to attack and plunged forwards bowling him over. I was startled by the brightness and by the figure of a young lad rather than the horrible old man who’d smelled of dirt and tobacco. I’d been almost hysterical when Neville had grabbed hold of me and it was only when he shook me hard and yelled back at me that he wasn’t going to hurt me that I finally stopped screaming.

Neville, my saviour. He became a good friend in the days and months that passed, after he’d taken me safely home. I swore him to secrecy that he must never tell anyone what had happened to me and when we finally arrived back at my home he honoured our agreement. My mother was crying with relief and my father just wouldn’t let me go. They’d been about to call the police when they couldn’t find me, having searched the surrounding area for hours. Neville backed up my story that I’d been playing hide and seek with some friends, down by the old nursery, when I’d got stuck in the potting shed after the door handle had come off. He’d heard me crying and rescued me.

So, Neville became quite a hero and a fixture in my life from that time on. We grew up, he went off to college and I stayed on at school, being a few years younger. We courted and eventually married. At least, that’s the happy ending everyone believed.

The truth, hidden behind the aspects of middle-class conformity and appearances of genteel post-war Britain, was quite a different prospect; 1950’s society still clung precariously to established stereotypes of propriety that would not have openly accepted the arrangement that governed our marriage.

Neville endured the probing questions that suggested our lack of offspring might represent a failing on his part, even to the point where he didn’t contradict the misconception that others were happy to believe.

All these years he has patiently stayed beside me, content to be my protector and allow me to live a quiet and sheltered life. Our arrangement is simple – that part of his life is separate. He is very discreet, of course. I often wonder what makes him stay. Perhaps there is more to love and living our lives together than can be explained away by a simple definition.

But even now after more than sixty years there are times, flashbacks, to a long ago summer when a sunny day brought to a halt the excitement and wonder of youth and ushered in the loss of innocence, as I retreat once more to my place of forgetting. There, in my times of solitude, I block out the worst images and fight to replace them with blackness, as if splicing and editing cine film until I can look back and not see the past.

Neville found me, he rescued me and he has sheltered me all these years, but still I am tied to the trauma of what happened back then. How I wish I could wipe away the memories of a past that will not go away. Perhaps, if I had the determination and the courage, I would bow to his gentle suggestion of counselling, but I am trapped by the fear that it might bring other memories to the surface. Solitude is a small price for me to pay but it has cost Neville dear.

After eleven years' hard-labour as a Library Assistant I am fortunate to have been able to give up work this year and am now a 'kept woman'! (well, I think that sounds better then the 'pensioner' connotation of early retirement!) I now spend my days reading, writing, knitting (no, it's not boring - excellent time to mind-plot!) and in keeping with my persona as a life-member of the Campaign for Real Ale, consuming quantities of quality brews and red wine - though not both at the same time!

I hang out at my blog: http://www.irefusetogoquietly.blogspot.com/ - callers there are most welcome, especially if they'd like to contribute to 'Thursday @ 3'!

Lost on the Rock Contest - 2nd Place

2011-05-24T07:11:00.000-02:30

Denise Covey, or L'Aussie as she is often referred to in cyberspace, hails from Brisbane, Australia. I have become familiar with her over the past several months due to her regular contributions to the #fridayflash scene where she posts her stories at http://flashquake.blogspot.com. Some may even consider her a 'prolific' blogger as she also posts travel stories/photos at http://laussiestravelblog.blogspot.com and has a blog devoted to her French travels, stories and book reviews. You can find that at http://pichetsinparis.blogspot.com .

Be sure to drop over to Laurita's blog, Calling Shotgun, where you can find our interview with Denise. Without further delay the Lost on the Rock team presents the second place story Lost, by Denise Covey.

LOST

Her black hair is wetly plastered on her forehead; her dark robe pulls around her ankles like a shroud as she stumbles along the slick sidewalk, a forlorn figure in the misty rain.

I scrape my chair closer to the window and watch. Flowing like rivers around the woman is a multitude of people – tall Africans in technicolour caftans, blue-swathed Afghani women, dark-robed Muslim gentlemen.

Looking out from the café window, I can imagine myself in Baghdad, Beirut or Nairobi.

Anywhere but Paris.

* * *

The sky was black and starless, heavy with the thought of rain when I shut the door to my little pensione in the Marais district. My aimless wandering has brought me again to my favourite square in Belleville where it’s market day. More like a Moroccan souk than a Parisian square, I think, with its hodge-podge of wares and rowdy jostling.

I watch turbaned African women elegant in striped boubous, children chattering at their skirts. Tourists weighed down with cameras jostle sober Orthodox Jews heading to the synagogue. North African men, tall and stately in jellabas, enter the mosque on the corner. Turkish men drink their java in the open wooden tea-house across the road, their cigarette smoke sending smutty curls into the grey sky.

The woman is at my window. I see black eyes sunken and mouth gaping. My God! I start to my feet. She jumps back, tosses her head and wails, her keening sharp in the sopping morning air.

I fall back into my chair.

‘Oh my God,’ I groan. I hang my head while the woman sobs. I reach a shaky hand toward the cold glass where her gnarly fingers clutch at her face.

‘You poor thing,’ I whisper. I stay where I am, pressing my cheek against the damp pane, remembering...

I remember the day the bomb fell out of the muggy midsummer sky…

* * *

I see the Arab woman turn the corner, stumbling towards hell. She covers her face with her hands, sobbing raggedly, gulping the acrid air. As the searing heat and pestilential dust find her, she drops her hands from her face and stares.

Cement columns lean at strange angles; blocks of wall twist grotesquely like a miniature World Trade Centre, bolts and steel exposed. Where the floor once lay there is a gigantic hole from the mortar, filled with debris, the toxic dust rising in grey filthy puffs.

The debris includes her two children, left at the table, reading, only moments before.

The crowd watches as she throws herself into the smouldering heap, her lips quivering, her arms outstretched, her robes spreading over the monstrosity as if to shield her darlings from the unspeakable sight.

She begins to scrapple in the debris, oblivious to her ripped and scorched fingers, her torn knees, her blood mixing with their precious blood. She chants as she digs, frantically pushing cement chunks aside with super-human strength. Suddenly her frenzied digging stops, she gazes downward, blinks. An unearthly sound erupts from deep inside her.

Men in the crowd step forward at last, their garments flapping as they fight her, drag her bodily, her legs jerking, incomprehensible garble spilling from her mouth. Her scarf falls into the grey pit; her long black hair escapes its bonds and trails behind her in the putrid dust. Her screams get louder, piercing the gritty afternoon air. Mothers turn away, rushing home to their loved ones, to smother them in kisses, to breathe in their baby smell, to hold them safe in their arms.

The woman is hauled away. She looks back. The puddle of blood, dismembered arms and legs, a smouldering tiny leather boot are her last sight of her precious ones. Does her crazed stare register the foreigner clutching notebook and camera stepping from the crowd, reaching out?

* * *

How did she end up in Paris? Perhaps she arrived in Paris’ safe haven via Syria or Beirut, facing further danger on her road towards freedom, but how she would have hated to leave her children.

Their dust lies somewhere in Baghdad.

I sip my coffee with shaking hands, tremble and wonder. When I look at her she jerks away, eyes downcast. She stands erect, walks alone into the crowd, daughter of Ishtar, dignity restored.

‘S’il vous plaît.’ I call the waiter for more coffee.

I reach into my bag and stare at the tatty photo of my family.

The backdrop is the gigantic columns of the World Trade Centre, splendidly piercing the sky. I can still hear them laughing as I joked around with my camera. I gently kiss the darling glossy faces.

I remember afresh the terror of that day when the plane that was flying them home veered off course and crashed into the very same building. My loved ones became part of the debris that floated to the ground, that toxic shower.

Did my little ones cry for me? Did my husband feel relief that my work compelled me to catch a different plane, a plane to my Baghdad assignment? I can only imagine his final thoughts in his final minutes, as he held our children close to his beating father’s heart.

I reach for my press card, tap it on the table, remembering. I fumble in my bag again, retrieve my blank notebook and flip it open.

‘Merci.’ I thank the waiter who brings my coffee. I click my pen and slap it against the page, rhythmically, tap, tap, tap…

My hand shakes as I begin to write:

An Arab woman
Lustrous black hair…no…

Try again…

Dust to dust, dust to dust…oh God…oh God…no…

Suddenly the pen races across the page as if propelled by another source:

The bowels of the earth
Are filled
With pestilential dust
That was once
Flesh and bone

I cover my face with my hands. I begin to scream.

Denise Covey published her first short story at eleven when her dog saved her from being bitten by a snake. She was delighted when it won a competition and so she was bitten by the writing bug. After studying Arts, she taught High School which gave her endless story scenarios. She now tutors English, and writes constantly. She has written two novels and has short stories and travel features published.

Denise loves to travel and dreams of writing a travel narrative. If she’s not at her laptop you can find her reading, researching or running. You can find her at her writing blog.

http://laussieswritingblog.blogspot.com/.

Interview With Angel Zapata

2011-05-23T07:06:00.000-02:30

The Lost on the Rock team are pleased to present this short interview with contest winner Angel Zapata of Georgia, USA. If you have not done so drop over to Laurita Miller's blog, Calling Shotgun, to read Angel's 1st place story Keeners.

Have you ever been lost? Physically? Emotionally? Grammatically?

I was raised in a big city, so getting lost in a place with numbered streets was next to impossible. Emotionally? Don’t get me started. I’m always a bit lost at sea. Hell, I still don’t know what I want to do when I grow up. Grammatically? I’m very comfortable using my own compass. I never worry about syntax rules or utilizing completely logical structure. My experience tells me that most of us really don’t “speak well,” we just “talk good.” And that’s okay. It’s a realistic outlook I never want to lose. Of course this never excuses the avoidance of editing or use of spell-check.

Tell us about your writing. What is your favorite genre? Do you have a favorite story or character you’ve written?

Since most of my writing is flash fiction, there’s no time for drinks or appetizers. I begin at the meat. And by the end, my goal is to leave you happily sucking on the bones. In regards to genre, the horrific stands predominant, but I don’t mind it served alongside any sub-genre. And my favorite story I’ve written thus far is probably “The Mouth of Babes.” Who doesn’t like dead women with man-eating tattoos on their abdomens? Hmmm, there seems to be an odd food theme going on here…

Where is your writing space?

Unlike other writers I know, my writing space is a constantly moving island. At home, I have a dark corner in the bedroom; sometimes I move to the kitchen counter or my recliner. At my day job, I create outline after outline at any free moment. I can make myself comfortable anywhere. All I need is a flat surface and some sort of fluid or ash.

Are you working on anything right now?

I’ve been clocking in a mess of hours on a poetry chapbook. Short stories have only been in my life for about four years. Poetry has always been my first love. It feels good to return to her. I’m hoping to have it completed by this fall.

When you think of Newfoundland, what pops into your mind?

First thought is Discovery, which is a fitting irony for the “Lost” theme. New found land. It sounds like my writer’s paradise…only colder. Next thought would be Canada, immediately followed by Miller and Davidson. O Canada…you have been so good to me.

Angel Zapata respects the dead. His horror short story collection, The Man of Shadows is available in paperback or eBook through Panic Press and Amazon. He also edits 5x5 Fiction: 25-word stories told in 5 sentences of 5 words each. Visit his blogs A Rage of Angel and 5x5 Fiction.

Lost on the Rock 2011 Contest Winners

2011-05-22T08:53:00.000-02:30

I suppose we have waited long enough to announce the winners for the Lost on the Rock 2011 flash fiction contest. We have stalled so long that even I am dying of suspense. I know that everyone is giddy with excitement. It's as if it was Christmas morning...or something like that.

As I noted in my last post, the competition was tight and Laurita and I wish we could put ALL of the stories up here this week. Alas, there can be only four (and two honourable mentions). I should note that the top four represent three different continents. This Internet thingy is really something.

Without further ado, the winners are...(Drum roll, please):

1st place is "Keeners", by Angel Zapata
2nd place is "Lost", by Denise Covey
3rd place is "Oubliette", by Susan Harding
4th place is "Where is Esther?", by Mike Jackson
Honourable mentions go to "Simply Lost", by John Wiswell and "Numbers", by Gerard Smith.

Many thanks to everyone who entered. A thousand blessings to you all and those who live in your tent. I'd also like to thank my writing buddy Laurita Miller for co-hosting this contest. Sharing a contest can be something of a challenge but it's well worth the pay off. A shout out to the lovely 'V' who acted as intake secretary and official bartender for the contest, allowing us to judge the contest 'blindly'. I hope you enjoy the line up of stories and interviews Laurita and I will present this week. Here is the schedule of what will appear here at Conversations From Land's Edge:

Monday-      Interview with contest winner, writer Angel Zapata
Tuesday-      Presenting 2nd place story "Lost", by Denise Covey
Wednesday- Presenting 3rd place story "Oubliette", by Susan Harding
Thursday-     Interview with 4th place writer Mike Jackson
Friday-         Presenting Honourable mention story "Numbers", by Gerard Smith

Over at Laurita Miller's blog, Calling Shotgun, you will pretty much find the opposite arrangement:

Monday-      Presenting contest winning story "Keeners", by Angel Zapata
Tuesday-      Interview with writer Denise Covey
Wednesday- Interview with writer Susan Harding
Thursday-    Presenting 4th place story "Where is Esther?", by Mike Jackson
Friday-        Presenting Honourable mention story "Simply Lost", by John Wiswell

Judgement Day

2011-05-19T20:43:00.000-02:30

The fine people at Google have decided 6 days of non-blogging activity was punishment enough for 'breaking' blogger. They have let me come out to play. I just wish they'd give me that missing post back. You remember the one? There were two videos: one where a guy is teasing a dog and the dog is talking back to him. The other had guys trying on an electric dog collar....just for fun. High times.

I won't dwell. I'm prepared to move on to more important things like judging for the Lost of the Rock 2011 flash fiction contest. The lure of wine and nibblies was enough to bring the judges together to rank stories and participate in hand-to-hand combat. We had it all: 15 flash fiction stories, cheese, crackers, two pairs of
boxing gloves and white wine dispensed from a box in the fridge.

Wine and nibblies on a fine ceramic plate

The stories covered quite a range of subject matter: from death of a loved one, to loss of a relationship. From the loss of moral fibre to the loss of innocence. Coming to think of it, the 'Loss' theme lead to some good stories, but some downer subject manner. *gulps back more wine* Perhaps next year we will run a contest with a more upbeat theme such as "euphoria on The Rock" or perhaps "cuddly animals on The Rock".

The contest was 'blind judged', meaning that we didn't know the names of the writers ahead of time. Surprisingly, the judges seemed to be on the same wavelength as six stories grabbed our attention from the start. The major challenge was putting them in proper order and declaring a winner. We have sent out email notification to the top finishers. These folks will also be given a few interview questions to answer and will be asked to supply a link to their web pages or blogs and also a photo of themselves. Remember...if no photo is supplied, I'll be forced to break out the purple crayon of doom and draw a likeness of that person to run with their interview...

Ripping open the hermetically sealed envelope of authors

Many thanks to all who participated in our contest this year. We appreciate your involvement at every level. Writing and submitting stories, Twittering about the contest, blogging and linking to our posts about the contest...it was all great and we're thankful for such a group of online friends. As usual, it's difficult to narrow it down and we thank ALL of you who submitted stories and wish we could run them all. You're all winners in our books.
We will be waiting for some feedback from the four prize winners over the next couple of days. We will announce the those names, and the names of two honourable mentions, on Sunday, May 22nd along with a schedule of when the stories and interviews will appear here and at Laurita's Calling Shotgun blog.

In other news... I would be remiss if I didn't give a shout out to Cathy Webster and her review of #fridayflash regular G.P. Ching's book The Soulkeepers at her blog. Drop by and check it out.

Savage Beatings. And a Joke

2011-05-13T20:20:00.000-02:30

I was going to post this entry yesterday but somehow I broke blogger.

I am sorry.

This week was a fairly regular routine of eating, working, sleeping and reading contest entries. I’ve gotten through a first read and am about to go through them a second time. I have four that stand out as superior stories for me. That being said, I’m sure that Laurita will have four different ones that SHE likes and Ellen will have four different ones ~~for which she will emphatically support and administer savage beatings until we agree with her.~~

This is not me.

To counter this, I have been hitting the treadmill to build up stamina for what I’m sure will be a spirited debate with my associates to pick a winner for the Lost on the Rock Contest for 2011. I recently signed up for Tae Bo classes in a local gym, thinking it would help me get the upper hand on the lovely ladies. Sadly, when I arrived at the class I discovered it was Tie-Bow…a class where elderly gentlemen get assistance and training on how to create a proper cravat. The women will probably kick my ascot...but at least I will look simply maaaavelous (said like Billy Crystal, of course).

The chuckle of ~~the day~~ yesterday goes to Cathy Webster at her blog Life on the Muskoka River where she presents her “Ode to Lost Dryer Sheets.” If you missed it, it's hilarious and a must read.

And speaking of funny tales…corporate HQ back in Ontario recently held a contest to submit the best joke. The winner was guaranteed extra rations of bread and water. I didn’t bother to enter because I can’t compete against the combined wit of the drafting office. Besides, I could stand to lose a bit of weight. I present the winning entry below.

“For several years, a man was having an affair with an Italian woman. One night, she confided in him that she was pregnant. Not wanting to ruin his reputation or his marriage, he said he would pay her a large sum of money if she would go to Italy to secretly have the child. If she stayed in Italy to raise the child, he would also provide child support until the child turned 18. She agreed, but asked how he would know when the baby was born. To keep it discrete, he told her to simply mail him a post card, and write 'Spaghetti' on the back. He would then arrange for the child support payments to begin.

One day, about 9 months later, he came home to his confused wife. 'Honey,' she said, 'you received a very strange post card today. 'Oh, just give it to me and I'll explain it later,' he said. The wife obeyed and watched as her husband read the card, turned white, and fainted. On the card was written: 'Spaghetti, Spaghetti, Spaghetti, Spaghetti, Spaghetti. Three with meatballs, two without. Send extra sauce!!!!”

And That's a Wrap

2011-05-09T20:27:00.005-02:30

The deadline has now passed for the Lost on the Rock Contest 2011. Many thanks to those of you who entered. We had a little flurry of entries on the last day. In fact, one snuck in just before the deadline.

I would also like to thank those of you who helped get the word out via your blogs and Twitter, etc. Every little bit helps. For those keeping score, we ended up with 15 story submissions. I have read four and see that the bar has been set high. Laurita, Ellen and I will meet next week to champion our favourites. I will come prepared this year with boxing gloves and mouthguard. As I recall, Ellen has a nasty right cross...

We will be sending interview questions to the top four finishers late next week and hope to post the winning names on Saturday, May 21st. The top four stories and interviews will be posted both here and at Calling Shotgun the week after that (ie. the story will appear at one blog, the interview at the other). Perhaps there will even be an honourable mention or two posted as well.

Just to pad this post out a little, I shall provide you a link here to an article at a travel website called Gadling. Perhaps the world's ten creepiest abandoned cities will provide inspiration to the horror writers in the crowd. There's a cool photo of each...from Taiwan to Turkey or Italy to the USA. There's apparently no shortage of places where people just up and left for reasons both natural and man-made.

The Back-up Post

2011-05-07T09:14:00.000-02:30

I'm really annoyed with myself this week. To be more precise, I'm really annoyed with my computer. More specifically, my Word program.

A few months ago a had worked on a lengthy post and somehow lost my work. I then started to type out my lengthier posts in Word and then cut/paste them into my blog. On Wednesday I was working on a post about reality television. I finished it after about 1 1/4 hours and then did a spell check. For some reason the program locked up on a paragraph. I was then given an option to retrieve my work, and I did. Now, you'd think that the Fez Guy would hastily move that story to his blog or at least save the dickens out of it. Nope. I tried the spell check again and it locked up again on the same paragraph (it must have thought that it was complete crap). I tried saving the document but this time I must have done something different and then Poof, it was gone.

Those who know me well will attest to the fact that I don't often swear (I leave that up to the boy). He swears enough for all of us. In fact, he swears so much that when he goes to interview with the Canadian navy when he hits 18 they will admit him right away. He could be the profanity instructor to the entire Atlantic fleet. He'd probably make admiral in a few weeks...OK, so I'm off on a bit of a tangent.

Me as a boy...

My reality TV post is now 'Lost' in Cyberspace. Speaking of 'Lost'...the deadline for the Lost on the Rock 2011 flash fiction contest is the end of day tomorrow. You may already know this as Laurita, myself, and our friends have been Tweeting the heck out of this in an attempt to get more entries. It's a mere 1000 words. Give it a try. Take next week's #fridayflash story (if it's already written) and send it to us! (as long as it fits the 'Lost' contest theme). You can read the contest information here. The post about the prizes is here. We will take a couple of weeks to read, re-read and then rank the stories. The top four will be sent a few interview questions to answer and return. The interviews and writer's photo will appear at our blogs the week after the Canadian Victoria Day weekend. If you are selected in the top four and don't want to include a photo, that's OK too...I'll just sketch up a likeness of that person with my handy drafting crayon...

Yeah, the death of my last blog post had me a bit bummed out this week, but my friend Cathy Olliffe sent along this video from tooshocking.com to cheer me up. The cute dog video then led me to this video which, as a former dog catcher who had to deal with obnoxious owners, really put a smile on my face. I don't think that I need to say that alcohol and dog collars don't mix...

Contest Prizes!

2011-05-01T21:29:00.000-02:30

Lost on the Rock 2011 Flash Fiction Contest

There are only 7 days left to get your entries in for the Lost on the Rock 2011 flash fiction contest. For those of you still pondering this, you can link to my earlier blog here with all of the contest rules. We are expecting a varied selection of story genres on this ‘Lost’ theme from our combined circle of friends. We're really looking forward to how some of you worked this theme of things 'Lost'.

Laurita Miller and I have had some discussion about prizes and decided on the following four (in no particular order). We're thinking that the story selected as the Contest Winner will get first choice from this list, second place gets second pick, and so forth.

A copy of 52 Stitches horror anthology, edited by Aaron Polson. Strange Publications, 2010. Trade Paperback, 129 pages.This collection of 52 flash stories come in bit-sized pieces of 750 words or less by horror writers from Canada, the United States, Great Britain and Australia. You will find frightening tales from established writers such as Alan Baxter, Cate Gardner, Jeremy Kelly, Jonathan Pinnock and Laura Eno.

A copy of The Cuffer Anthology: Volume II, edited by Pam Frampton. Killick Press, 2010. Trade Paperback, 152 pages. This anthology of 34 short fiction (1200 word max.) features stories of local flair by both new and established writers from Newfoundland and Labrador. This is a collection that varies from literary fiction to science fiction, humour and horror. The feature story is Holes to China by Cuffer winner Chad Pelley. Also included are stories by Jillian Butler and Gerard Collins, not to mention Fledgling by my friend and writing buddy Laurita Miller. My story The Inscription also lurks somewhere within the anthology.

A copy of Haunted Shores: True Ghost Stories of Newfoundland and Labrador, by Dale Jarvis. Flanker Press, 2004. Trade Paperback, 208 pages. Dale Jarvis is a writer, researcher and story teller who lives in St. John’s, Newfoundland. He has searched archival sources and taken first-hand accounts of mysterious lights, ghost ships, headless pirates and other unexplained entities and weaved them into dark tales from all parts of this historic province.

And finally, a $15 gift card from Amazon to get whatever the heck you like...Woot!

We'd like to remind everyone that not only do the top four stories selected by the judges get their stories published either here or at Calling Shotgun, they will also be interviewed by us and have the interview posted on the same day. Think of the crazy things one can say. Think of the promotional value. Does it get any cooler than that? (Don't answer that...)

We would also like to give the prizes a personal touch and perhaps include ~~a load of moose droppings~~ an item or two with each book that screams 'Newfoundland'. Have no fear...there will be no Jiggs Dinners, cod tongues or seal flippers sent out with the prizes...

Weddings, Politics and Children's Programming

2011-04-29T23:28:00.000-02:30

Geez, a slow news day. Nothing to talk about but that darn royal wedding going on in the UK.

Hmm...what to talk about? First off, there's only nine days left to enter your stories in our Lost on the Rock 2011 flash fiction contest. We will post about our prizes for the top four finishers this Sunday. And you know that you WON'T want to miss THAT!

Yesterday, my friend Cathy Webster blogged about the letter 'X' in her A to Z blog challenge. That always proves to be a tricky letter. Her post was about a certain Canadian children's television network that accidentally aired some footage of the horror movie "The Ring." LMAO...that's a few thousand more Canadian kids that will find themselves in some sort of therapy as adults. Mind you, the future Conservatives will likely blame it on the growing popularity of the New Democrats years earlier (darn sneaky socialists!)

Sorry...got a bit sidelined by politics there. It's only three days until our federal election and it's the talk of the town. That and the royal wedding. And hockey. Maybe beer too.

Cathy's post got me wondering about the kind of shows that I watched as a kid. The only thing that comes to mind was Hanna-Barbera cartoons. You all know what I'm talkin' about...Flintstones, Jetsons, Scooby-Doo and of course the ever popular Magilla Gorilla.

There was another show lurking in the depths of my memory...something amusing yet creepy. Fun yet dark. It took a little searching on YouTube to turn up this gem of a video. Within a few seconds my eyes glazed over and I was humming along to the catchy theme song for "H.R. Pufnstuf." Who wouldn't like that kid, the late Jack Wild, and those darn scary adult-size puppets...and don't get me going on those lyrics from the attached trailer.

"...a boy and his magic golden flute...come and play with me Jimmy, come and play with me. And I will take you on a trip, far across the sea."

So, enough of that...

I promised that I wouldn't stoop to slapping up photos of the royals today. I'll leave that to the media who are analyzing every nuance, whispered word and fancy hat. What better to present you with, though, than a photo from OUR royal wedding back in '94 (checks date on inside of wedding band to confirm...)

Members or MY royal family

...on Boardwalks, Paddles, and E-book Pricing...

2011-04-26T21:26:00.001-02:30

The Auld Y'in and the boy at Job's Cove boardwalk, 2008

The long weekend is finally behind us. Speaking of behinds...I ate more than my share of turkey and chocolate (not at the same time) when we visited my parents 'round the bay. The weather was nearly warm on Saturday and we ventured out onto the boardwalk at the nearby community of Job's Cove. The snow drifts had finally melted from its boards and the 20 minute walk was now do-able. The only issue was that a couple of sections were blown over by recent high winds and repairs have yet to be undertaken. We didn't have a camera with us, but I've included a couple of photos from previous years to give you the idea of the topography. This moss-covered moonscape is a familiar sight all over this island.

Many of you may recall this conversation that the boy, V and I had when we were out to supper recently. I know present an abridged version of a chat that occurred while my mum was making lunch. Let me set the scene...she held a knife and then brought out a cutting board to chop up some veggies to stuff into pita bread. The board had a short handle and appeared wider than it was long.

Me: "Jeez, that cutting board looks like a paddle."

My dad (the auld y'in): "Aye, you mother and I break that oot on Tuesday nights. There's nae much on the telly..."

Me: *Shudders* "I don't recall the paddle being an instrument of such fun when WE were kids." *flashes back to cricket bat-like paddle hanging prominently from a nail on the kitchen wall*

Sometimes, visits home can be a bit TOO educational. Speaking of educational...

I'd like to point you in the direction of John Wiswell. Those of you who contribute to and read #fridayflash stories will be familiar with John's eclectic and often satirical brand of writing. Today, at his blog The Bathroom Monologues, John has posted an essay entitled High Book Prices are Good For You. He discusses the practice of some e-book publishers setting prices as high as $14.99 for top-notch (ie. those that are enormously popular with massive fan bases) authors down to the regular folks (comparatively new or unknown writers) peddling their wares for a mere $0.99. Take a few minutes to read his essay and to follow the growing comment thread. There are some interesting thoughts that are both for and against his arguments.

And speaking of ~~interesting thoughts~~ writing...I'd like to take a moment to remind you all that there 12 days left to submit your stories to our Lost on the Rock 2011 flash fiction contest. You can get the contest information here. Laurita and I will post later in the week about the prizes up for grabs this year. Those of you who followed this blog last year may recall my 'unsightly begging' just days before last year's contest...I'm not at that point yet, but am getting dangerously close. Even if you're not going to enter, Laurita and I would really appreciate if you would promote (blog, Twitter, etc.) the contest to other circles of writers. Many thanks!

Bad Movie Night (Part IV)

2011-04-22T12:27:00.002-02:30

I hope that the Bad Movie Night title doesn't scare people away from reading the post. I guess that if you're reading this you are ready to accept the punishment. Actually...last night was kind of a lesson on how sometimes goodness can come from bad movies.

Yesterday's snow may have kept the numbers down for the show last night. With only five in attendance we were able to have more couch space and there was more beer ~~tospill~~ and snacks ~~to throw at the TV~~. Comfort was important as we had a double-feature. Actually, more of a feature and a half.

The first movie Hot Chick Hotrod Stoner BBQ was about an hour long and shot in a junk yard. This 2005 feature was a sequel to Hot Chick Stoner BBQ with multi-talented Hotrod Honey. Those of you who have seen the first movie (if you admit it) may recall the useful charcoal BBQ tips. The downfall of the original BBQ movie was that Honey and her pals were partaking in certain vices during the filming and she deteriorated during the movie. There were side scenes were they went off and 'shot stuff'. This film, however, seemed a bit more structured and the side scenes were of her lady friends demonstrating changing spark plugs and doing an oil change.

The Hot Chick Hotrod Stoner BBQ was again educational from a BBQ standpoint. There was a useful demonstration on cooking sausages with a 'beer boat' of aluminum foil, potato packets (again in aluminum) and the cooking of popcorn in a large steel bowl--she noted that her secret ingredient was THC. It was very popular amongst the guests. To sum up...this is not an easy movie to find, but if you like classic cars, BBQ tips, tips on maintaining cars, tattoos, and smoking dope this is the feature for you. A low production value, but obviously a somewhat higher budget than her earlier BBQ movie. Suffice it to say that you won't be seeing this gem on the Food Network any time soon. Below is a sample from the movie.

The main feature was an indie Canadian movie out of Vancouver called Dead Hooker in a Trunk (2009). I know, the name implies some little project by a group of sexist guys but surprisingly it was written and directed by Jen and Sylvia Soska. Their first feature film is surprisingly entertaining for a low-budget production. I group of friends discover a woman's dead body in the trunk of their car and fall into a nightmare world of drugs, religion and violence. Some scenes will make you laugh at the quirkiness and others will having you gasping at the violence. Don't expect Academy award winning acting here, and you'll have to check reality at the door for some of the bizzarro scenes (think...re-attaching a friend's arm). However, there was an interesting back story to why the sisters are so weird and the soundtrack was pretty good.

I was just reading that the Soska sisters are working on their second feature film American Mary. They aren't discussing the storyline yet, but I'm looking forward to more of their unique take on horrific humour. Or was it humourous horror? BTW, this scored 3.9 at the IMDB site (easily qualifying it for Bad Movie Night). Just got thinking...is Bad Movie Night an acceptable topic for Good Friday? Er...too late now, I suppose. Hope everyone has a great long weekend.

Oh, yeah! And remember to get your stories in for the Lost on the Rock 2011 flash fiction contest. Be a part of the fun, the stories, the cool interviews and pimpage...see my last blog post for all the details...

Lost on the Rock Contest 2011

2011-04-16T09:37:00.001-02:30

Lost on the Rock Contest 2011

It recently occurred to me that it’s been nearly a year since I held the Land's Edge contest to celebrate the first anniversary of this blog. It was also about a year ago my writing group buddy, Laurita Miller of Calling Shotgun, ran her Seaside Flash Fiction contest.

This year we’ve decided to share a contest based upon the theme of ‘Lost’. We believe that this theme will lend itself to many types of stories in all genres. It may mean that one is physically lost—but it can also refer to the loss of one’s job, or of one’s freedom, or even the ‘loss of innocence’.

The Lost on the Rock 2011 contest starts today (April 16) and the deadline for submissions is end of day on Sunday, May 8th. Please send forth your best short stories or essays that pertain to the ‘Lost’ theme. We leave the use of the word open to your interpretation (but remember: my mother and her associates from the ‘blue rinse brigade’ may read it).

The contest is open to all, from South Africa to Australia and Great Britain to Peru. That being said…the farther away the winner lives, the cheaper the form of transportation we will use to send the prize (a certain European prize winner in my last-year contest didn’t receive their book for nearly two months. A donkey and three carrier pigeons gave their lives to deliver the weighty novel).

Speaking of prizes…Laurita and I have emptied our children’s penny jars and pooled our money. There will be prizes for the 1st, 2nd, 3rd and 4th place finishers. After the judging is complete, we will contact the top four with a few interview questions. These winners (and their interviews) along with two honourable mentions will all be published on this blog and at Calling Shotgun after the winners are announced on Saturday, May 21st (the Victoria Day week end for those in Canada). The contest rules are as follows:

1. Stories that fit the ‘Lost’ theme, of any genre, 1000 words or less.

2. We would prefer previously unpublished stories, however you may send a gently ‘used’ story if it meets the contest theme (and we’ll try not to hold it against you).

3. Send entries to lostontherock2011(at)yahoo(dot)ca with Contest Submission, Story Title, and your name in the subject line of your email.

4. Place your story, and its title, in the body of the email...no attachments please. And please, your name goes on the subject line…NOT in the body of the email.

5. Spitting on the contest judges is strongly frowned upon.

All submissions sent to that newly created email address will be forwarded to the judges by a trusty Land’s Edge staffer. The stories will be 'blind judged' by Laurita, myself and Ellen, the third member or our writing group. No pandering to the judges, please, as we are ~~honest~~ ~~moral~~ nearly impervious to such things (and a twenty doesn’t go as far as it used to).

The 1st , 2nd, 3rd and 4th place entries earn bragging rights and will each receive either a book or a Newfoundland prize pack (we’ll iron out the sordid details later). The honourable mentions? They will also get to brag after their stories are published on our blogs. I hope all of that was clear…if not, email myself or Laurita with questions. Please tell others about the Lost on the Rock Contest 2011...through Facebook, blogging and the evil Twitter…and start writing.

Pimping Polson, Etc.

2011-04-13T10:30:00.001-02:30

I figure that it has been at least three days since I last pimped something, so today seems like a fine day to do that. Those of you who have dropped by for a while have heard me mention writer Aaron Polson before. I've enjoyed his short stories for nearly two years and he now has novels available for purchase. I think of his work as 'literary horror'. It is descriptive, it is mesmerizing. Sometimes the horror sneaks in slowly, enveloping you with a cloak of unease. Other times it hits you like a punch in the gut. I recently read his story 'Wanting It' in Shock Totem 3. A ghostly tale about the loss of childhood innocence. It was one of those stories that sticks in your mind for a long time.

Aaron is generously offering the Kindle version of his novel The House Eaters for a measly 99 cents. That's no typo. You can download the horror for less than a buck. Link to the information at his blog here. I've downloaded my copy (Aaron will be pleased to hear that he's nestled nicely between Sir Walter Scott and Sir Thomas More in my Kindle directory). Keep in mind, though, that this is a temporary offer so you should drop by now.

*Awkward segue alert* And while we're on the subject of Shock Totem...

I'm about 7 or 8 stories into that third issue of Shock Totem (yes, they are indeed curious tales of the macabre and twisted). I must say, there is NOT a bad tale in that anthology. It's difficult to describe, but I think the team there have elevated horror to a new level. Perhaps horror isn't the correct word...it's more of a 'unnerving' feeling you get as you work through each tale. Anyway, I hadn't intended this post to turn into a book review so consider the Shock Totem 3 anthology highly recommended. And if you can't trust a guy in a fez, who can you trust? Help out a small press and get a copy.

*Second awkward segue alert* And since I mentioned the team at Shock Totem...

I'd like to send a shout out to the lovely Mercedes M. Yardley. She handles the non-fiction submissions at Shock Totem and is also a fine writer of horror and otherworldly things. She blogs at A Broken Laptop and has resurrected her "Be Mysterious: Writers in Masks" series. The short explanation...she hosts a weekly blog feature pimping out a writer (and their current project) with a bio and a photo of them donning a mask of their choosing. Mysterious indeed. Click on the link if you'd like more information or if you'd like Mercedes to feature you and your writing project in the near future. Don't be shy.

*Third awkward segue alert* And speaking of not being shy...

Drop by my blog on the weekend. There WILL be an announcement about a cool contest. Sharpen your crayons now. It involves writing. And maybe the juggling of wee, hairless animals.

Maybe.

Hockey and Politics. Good Times in Canada.

2011-04-10T16:34:00.002-02:30

As I'm sure that most of our American and other foreign friends are aware, we are entering the silly season here in Canada...the NHL playoff for the Stanley Cup. In fact it's really doubly silly this year because we have entered into yet another federal election (to be held on May 2). Hockey will be vying for TV airtime with all of those nasty political commercials with the leaders telling you LESS about what they will do for our country and MORE about the negative attributes of their opponent. *Le Sigh*

photo credit: detentionslip.org

Anyway, the election will be done before we we can say "ANOTHER friggin' minority government" and then we can devote all of our time and energy to hockey. Some of you may recall my talking about entering the office hockey pool last fall when we picked our players, hoping ~~to win a crap load of money~~ to win the bragging rights at the office. At this time last year I was probably gloating and doing a happy dance (so much so that my fez may have flown off). However this year my players appear to be collecting their big old paychecks, getting fat on coffee and Tim bits. I'm back in 8th place or so. Coincidentally, leading the pack this year is...my mother. Yep, the old Scottish dear herself. With only one night of hockey left in the regular season she holds a 16 point lead with little hope of being caught. I was talking with her this morning. Even though her computer is on the fritz, she is going to spend her prize winnings on other necessities. Items such as a vat of hair dye, orthopedic stockings and a six-pack of Drambuie are high on her must-have list. I know some of you are saying, "What a cheeky ~~young~~ lad, talking about his mum like that." I suppose that if she read these comments on my blog (she doesn't know of its existence) she'd give me a 'skelp aboot the ears'. That was a popular expression around our house when I was a kid. Above is a recent photo of the 'auld yin' in celebration of her windfall.

I saw a video this week to illustrate how weird it gets in Canada around playoff time. Below is a clip from Thursday's game with Minnesota at Vancouver. A fan apparently threw a salmon on the ice. What a waste of a good fish! Yahoo! sports writer Greg Wyshinski made a good point, "So this is symbolic of … what, exactly? The Canucks always swimming upstream in the playoffs and eventually getting smoked?" Sounds to me like the 'trash talk' has begun.

I would follow that up with something political, but I wouldn't want to spoil your day. Or your appetite. Instead I offer you a hilarious clip from the web site Funny or Die (you may remember these are the folks that brought us the fine Charlie Sheen cooking video). I first saw a link to this video at Huffington Post and thought, "Cool, they're doing a remake of the movie "When Harry Met Sally." However, upon closer inspection I discovered that this is a mock video about what a sequel might look like. I won't say another word, just watch and Billy Crystal and Helen Mirren and enjoy for yourself. On a side note, the video was directed by Lindsay Crystal, daughter of Billy...

When Harry Met Sally 2 with Billy Crystal & Helen Mirren from Billy Crystal

Just a Fez and a Smile

2011-04-06T20:23:00.001-02:30

Sorry about the title. Figured that it might lure a few more people to read today's post. *Hangs head in shame*...I feel so ~~cheap~~ sexy...

Hey, the numbers are down and a guy's gotta do what's necessary (I'm even considering a human sacrifice for next week). Besides, it's only Wednesday. I only do naked on 'Pantsless Friday'.

We were only supposed to reach 9C today but it reached a balmy 14C (58F) by noon. As my old father-in-law would say, "It's shockin' warm" for the first week of April. The boy captured me in a rare moment of focus at the computer. It will be near zero again tomorrow, so I will stow the shorts away for a few weeks. The fez is fashionable year-round (though I will hit it with a waterproof spray before the rainy season).

Rare sighting of the Pale Skinned, Hairy-legged Booby

The sudden warmth has melted most of the snow in the back garden. If you look within the shallow pond, you can almost see grass...who am I kidding...it's mostly weeds and moss. But green, nonetheless. Not as green and manicured, though, as entry #8 in Cathy Webster's Knocked Up, Guess the Damned Door Contest! (or words to that effect). Link to contest details here. Those of you who follow the #fridayflash story writers will recognize many of the names who have entered their front door into the contest. Drop by her blog and have a guess. The top three winners will receive a Life on the Muskoka prize package. OK, I'll stop pimping now...

Yeah. You're probably wondering about the surgical mask in the photo above. The warm weather has the boy a mass of dribbles and snots. He's used up about a dozen boxes of tissues in the past week and we send him off to school every day hopped up on Claratin and hormones. Spring is in the air and I'm takin' no chances on catching whatever he's got!

All this contest talk has me thinking that it's nearly been a year since I last held a contest. Hmm...

Silly Sunday Project

2011-04-03T12:46:00.001-02:30

Photo credit: solecism at Flickr

I recently went through the photos of a writing friend on Facebook and he had a picture with a caption written on it. This was part of a game where one picks a random photo to represent their fictitious album cover and adds fictitious band name and also a fictitious name for said album. I played along and the photo to the right--click to enlarge--was my album cover, my band name was Light & Heavy and the album was called "to be conscious of none". This can of course lead to elements that work perfectly with one another or better yet, lead to a 'WTF' moment. Below are the instructions to create your own album cover. I look forward to seeing the results posted at your blogs...

1. Go to Wikipedia and hit "Random article" (top left margin). The first random Wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.

2. Go to quotationspage.com and hit "Random Quotes" (left margin). The last four or five words of the very last quote on the page will be the title of your album.

3. Go to Flickr and click on “Explore" (bottom centre) then click "Interesting photos from the last seven days” (right margin). The third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover. If that one can not be saved, move to the next one in sequence. Note: you MAY want to give a photo credit to the Flickr person you pilfered the shot from...

4. Use Photoshop or something similar (picnik.com is a free online photo editor) to put it all together.

5. Post the photo with these instructions at your blog.

OK, that was a bit of fun. It only took about 30 minutes. A lot of the time was spent altering the colour of the photo and experimenting with the text fonts and it's location on the ~~woman's tummy~~ album cover. And then I thought to myself..."Self, why not make this applicable to writers and what THEY do. So here is the new game...you are a struggling writer (I know, what a stretch) and have penned a seedy tale with little artistic merit to make a fast buck (if you are so lucky to be paid that much). You don't want to sully the reputation and good name you have worked so hard to build up in the social networks. Let's work on a random book cover, a name for your novel and a quote by Charlie Sheen to endorse your novel...

1. Go to Wikipedia and hit "Random article" (top left margin). The third random Wikipedia article you hit is the name of your seedy novel.

2. Go to the Prank Call Name Generator for your fictitious writer's name. Note: don't be intimidated by having to type your name. Use the name of a writing friend or someone you dislike if you choose.

3. Go to the Charlie Sheen quote generator for an endorsement for the cover of your seedy novel. Why Charlie? Well, in a seedy way he's sort of popular right now (if you discount the flopping on stage in Detroit last night).
4. Go to Flickr and click on “Explore" (bottom centre) then click "Interesting photos from the last seven days” (right margin). The third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover. If that one can not be saved, move to the next one in sequence. Note: you MAY want to give a photo credit to the Flickr person you pilfered the shot from...

5. Use Photoshop or something similar (picnik.com is a free online photo editor) to put it all together.
6. Post the photo with these instructions at your blog.

Now that I've got this typed out, I'll give my seedy novel cover a whirl...

Photo credit: jkoci at Flickr

Kinder, Gentler Horror

2011-03-31T20:40:00.000-02:30

A couple of days ago I read a news story about a horror movie being released this week end. That was the first mention I had heard, which is surprising because these things are usually beaten to death with trailers. The same evening I saw a commercial on TV for the same move..."Insidious". This is by James Wan and Leigh Whannell, the same guys who wrote and directed "Saw". You can link to the news story here. It's about a family who become haunted by evil spirits when their son falls into a coma after an accident.

Insidious is a bit of a departure from the usual blood and gore the guys are used to dishing up. They wanted to try a movie that had a "creepy atmosphere" without falling on the usual shocks of standard horror movies these days. I'm looking forward to this movie because I haven't been a fan of horror films the past few years (perhaps with the exception of The Ring). I saw the first Saw movie and that was plenty for me. I've shied away from movies like "Hostel" and "Final Destination" and "Grindhouse" that fall into either the so-called 'splatter' movies or the more controversial label of 'torture porn'.

Don't get me wrong. I don't mind blood or violence in a movie if it depicts a realistic situation that is advancing the story or, better yet, enhancing it. What I don't want to see is someone strapped or chained in position with a gag stuffed in their mouth and a nine inch nail...well, you get the picture.

I can recall three movies off the top of my head that made a distinct impression on me years ago that played more on the psychology of the situation. They tended to imply grievous harm without actually depicting it. As a teenager I watched Roddy McDowall in "The Legend of Hell House" (1973). This was a scary picture that didn't really show anything, but built tension with sound, music and effective lighting. It was remade in 1999 as "The Haunting" with Liam Neeson in the lead role but was no where near as affective. The second movie I recall was "Alien" (1979). Sure, there was a bit of blood in this one...who doesn't remember the scene where that little creature pops out of the guy's chest...but, if you recall, the alien wasn't really seen until near the end of the movie. The creature was more hinted at throughout the movie. The third movie? "The Blair Witch Project" (1999) scared the crap out of me. Again, there was nothing disturbing to be seen. I think the more frightening aspect was that it was preying on the superstitious nature of people. The documentary nature of the film added a certain creepy factor as well. I have heard the movie "Paranormal Activity" (2007) falls into this category of great scares with no blood or gore. I'll have to rent that one soon.

I plan on checking out Insidious to see if they attain their goal of terrifying the audience without drenching them in blood and gore. FYI, it ranks 67% at the Rotten Tomatoes web site at the time I am writing this. That number is good enough for me. I hope that the viewing audience supports movies like this because I'd like to return to a kinder, getnler, more thought-provoking horror rather than sensory overload splatter-fest that leaves you rushing home for a hot shower to cleanse yourself...

What is the scariest movie that YOU recall seeing? Was it more cerebral...or splatter?

[read between THESE lines]

2011-03-27T15:25:00.000-02:30

Wow, that was a week that I'll never get back. It all seems a blur now. Three days this week we had significant snow fall that required shovelling (mostly using the snow blower, of course). But I did have my junior Sherpa on hand to ~~hide in the warm car~~ ~~fart around~~ do most of the manual labour. I must be having sympathy pains (like when 'V' was pregnant) because my back is still paining me. I had to make up the lost office time by working after hours. And my overlords are now cracking the 'overtime whip' in an effort to get more steel out the doors. I used to like overtime when I was younger (one year I had nearly 500 hours of overtime) but I prefer to avoid it now.

Friday's snow storm played havoc on the boy's schedule too. He is a member of the robotics club at school, and they were to compete against other Jr. High schools from the eastern part of the province at a certain unnamed 'institute of higher learning' here in St. John's. However, the event was cancelled due to the snow and high winds preventing travel of the out-of-town teams. We did fill out the permission form and submit it to the school a few days ago. You all have no doubt seen these forms before. Essentially written in legalese, signing away one's rights to sue the 'institute of higher learning' until well into the next century.

Let me relate to you some of the facts of the two page document [and a few of my thoughts in passing.]

Although it is understood that 'the institute of higher learning', in general, endeavours to provide a safe environment for students, I am familiar with and accept that there is a risk of injury, possibly of a serious nature in participation in the Event; [injury? what kind of injury? The kids'll be operating small, robotic subs in a shallow tank of water for frigs sake!]
Injuries may include, but are not limited to, bruises, abrasions, strains, muscular injuries, fractures, back injuries, joint injuries, concussions, drowning, paralysis and death; [OK, sounds to me like this 'Event' is actually going to be Acapulco cliff diving or duelling with light sabres or frigging ice hockey!]
Injuries may result from, without limitation, equipment malfunction, slipping, tripping or falling, hazards inherent to the environment of the Event; [so you're REALLY saying we should encase the little darlings in bubble wrap before sending them off to 'the ~~orifice~~ edifice of unparalleled danger'...]
I knowingly and freely assume all such risks, both known and unknown, even if arising from the negligence of those persons released from liability below, and assume full responsibility for my Child's participation; [...and we should also have Father Ted bless them and sprinkle a wee bit of holy water on them for good measure...]
My Child will immediately notify the nearest official of 'the institute of higher learning', if at any time he/she senses or observes any unusual condition or feels that he/she has experienced any deterioration in his/her physical, emotional or mental fitness, for continued safe participation in the Event; [Do I understand Clause #691 correctly?...if the young'uns Spidey senses get tingling, or if they feel a crying jag coming on, they should tell the Commandant right away?]
I understand that the 'institute of higher learning' assumes no responsibility for personal injury or loss of or damage to my Child's personal property; [Yeah. Right. Kinda seen that one coming]
I hearby consent to the use without compensation, of my Child's name and/or likeness, images and/or voice in publicity and advertising concerning the Event in any media and/or promotion throughout the world; [so if you produce a video, and it makes its way to YouTube and goes all 'Justin Beiber' and it makes a crap-load of money for an as-of-yet 'UNKNOWN PRODUCT' we won't see a penny of that?]
I declare that I have read, understood and agree to the contents of the WAIVER FORM in its entirety and I sign it freely and voluntarily without any inducement. [ya know, just because you can't SEE the friggin' gun pointed at your head doesn't mean that it's not there.]

Anyway, I signed and dated said form. So did the boy. So did the obligatory witnesses and the Holy Father himself. After I had my team of lawyers look over the document, Sean returned it to school. Then the Event got cancelled. Maybe he can risk life and limb NEXT week end.

Photo Credit: Safe Home Products

(Almost) Good Enough to Eat

2011-03-21T22:46:00.002-02:30

I've been around dogs my entire life in some fashion or another. You've all probably heard me go on about having been a dog catcher (or the more PC...Animal Control Officer) in a former life. As a child we had a pair of fox terriers called Monday and Tuesday, and in my teen years we had shelties.You never know what will happen with dogs as they have as many quirks as their owners. We now have a greyhound called 'Jet' that we got from the local greyhound rescue group. We sometimes refer to him as 'the dog' or simply 'dog', much the same way we refer to our son as 'the boy'. Kind of a term of endearment.

We feed the dog Purina One, Lamb and Rice chow with probiotics (the probiotics help keep the dog-gas to a minimum...at least we don't need to sit about in the evening wearing the WWII gas masks anymore). So nauseous are the fumes that we even add fresh yogurt with probiotics to the mix. A kind of insurance policy.

Anyway...I mix the whole thing together and it looks like a nasty mess. Sort of a 'dog's breakfast', as it were. No matter, Jet eats it anyways. Without fail, he leaves behind three or four pieces of the chow in the dish. Why? I've pondered this mystery for some time. Perhaps even obsessed over it. 'V' tells me that I should just let it go. She says that, if it helps, I should just think of the chow as a gift from dog.

Speaking of a dog's breakfast...

Help! My spoon is stuck

The cold weather has us eating a lot of soup. I recently opened up a tin of Campbells's Chunky beef soup (No, neither they nor Purina are paying me for the endorsements...)and instantly flashed back to my teen years and the tins of dog food I used to crack open for the shelties. That was Dr. Ballard's beef stew. I often thought the beefy bits, carrots and peas were fantastic looking and nearly good enough to eat. I was too much of a wimp, though, to actually give it a taste. I think that may have been a Canadian brand of dog food and those of you in other countries may not have heard of it. I took a few photos of the tinned soup, though, that we had for lunch last week. Sort of a visual aid. ~~Yum~~. Except that the soup was a bit congealed. And there weren't many meaty bits. When I get thinking of it, the Dr. Ballard's was actually a lot nicer looking than the beef soup. Sadly, I understand that they were bought out by Friskies, who ceased production in 2001.

Shlurp! The unveiling...

The Leaning Tower of...

I pine for the days of Dr. Ballard's

*Sniffs* Now I shall never be able to conduct that taste test. Take my advise...strike while the iron is hot. (OK, that was a bit cliche...)

Fine Dinner Conversation

2011-03-15T22:46:00.000-02:30

Photo Credit: Scandanavian Log Cabins Direct

On Sunday evening we went out to Montana's for supper. It was one of those days when nobody wanted to cook and, coincidentally, V had a gift card given to her by her employer. The supper out is neither here nor there, but V noticed a large set of moose antlers hanging above our table and the following discussion gives you a taste of the conversation that occurs a Davidson meal. It's not 'Charlie Sheen' crazy...there were no warlocks or Vatican assassins discussed...but in retrospect it seemed a tad odd.

V: "God must have a sense of humour to inflict a set of antlers like that on a creature that has to navigate through thick woods."

AD: "I understand that moose aren't native to this island. Perhaps they wandered through open fields back in their native land."

V: "I suppose..."

AD: "Anyway, don't they rub their antlers against tree trunks to remove that fur every season?"

The Boy: "Dad...it's not fur. It's velvet..."

AD: "And...did you know that there are people who go into the woods and scrape that velvet from the tree trunks, package it up and ship it to factories in the United States? They use it to make those fine portraits of Elvis that are shipped around the world."

*Stunned silence falls across the table*

Does anyone want to take credit for this picture?

Giving Credit...

2011-03-11T10:10:00.003-03:30

Picture Credit: Tattered Star Apparel

Does anyone use that blogger feature that can be set to notify you of when someone comments on an old blog post? I think it's a great idea as I wouldn't think to check back on posts to see if there were new comments left. I have mine set to notify me if a comment is left two weeks after the original post.

I received one of those notifications a few days ago about a comment left at a post that was over a year old. You can link to the post here about a woman who was lobbying to have pole dancing as an Olympic sport. I 'borrowed' the clever photo shown on the right from another writer's blog because it both reflected the topic of discussion and tied back to the literary reasons for creating this blog in the first place. Like so many pictures floating out there in cyberspace, though, poor Poe was not properly credited when originally borrowed and I followed suit in using it without knowing its origins.

Wes, of Burbank, CA left a comment informing me that the picture was designed by his wife for their t-shirt company Tattered Star Apparel. Please take a few moments to check out some of their other horror-themed shirt designs. I found the funny little YouTube video below advertising their company at the Tattered Star website.

Umm...it is unknown to me if this is the mysterious Wes and his lovely wife...

International Women's Day

2011-03-08T23:24:00.000-03:30

Yes, today was pancake day and I hope that all of you who partook of the flapjack meal enjoyed yourselves. I let the boy choose between pancakes and macaroni for supper and he picked macaroni *sighs*.

Besides Shrove Tuesday or Fat Tuesday or whatever you wish to call it, today was also International Women's Day. I discovered this at the Huffington Post. In fact, it's the 100th anniversary of the event. The Huffington Post provided many links to stories by noted women and I can link you to a few from here. Drop by and read the stories by Queen Noor, Marlo Thomas, Ashley Judd, Annie Lennox, Roseanne Barr, and many others.

Yesterday I found this short film (2 minutes) narrated by Dame Judy Dench regarding the inequality between men and women that persists in the workplace. You may find the clip, entitled 'Equals', featuring Daniel Craig to be somewhat amusing and definitely enlightening.

Again With the Horror...

2011-03-06T23:38:00.000-03:30

I guess this post can be considered an extension of the previous Bad Movie Night post. Don't worry...I'm not going to inflict another review on you. Prof. Larry forwarded me a link to what he referred as "...vitally important information for us all". This link will take you to a Horror Movie Character's Survival Guide. This is a list of more than 300 tips designed to increase your odds of survival should you find yourself stuck in a bad horror film. I know, that's A LOT of tips to go through. If you don't have that kind of time I'll list a few that I found relevant and amusing (in a twisted sort of way).

• Do not search the basement, especially when the power has just gone out.

• Always be nice to the shy, quiet, unpopular girl in school.

• Stay away from 'quaint' hotels and inns. Go for the brand names.

• Don't run through the woods wearing high heels, as most of the time one of the heels will break.

• If you are a female, never show your breasts, easy women are expendable.

• If you walk into the local abandoned-looking church to seek help or shelter, and you notice that the crucifix is mounted upside down, turn around and go back outside as quietly as possible.

Yada, yada, yada...the rest follow in the same vein. Anyway, I've you've got the time scan through the list and let me know which ones that you like.

I've recently discovered the Huffington Post as a cool resource for online news. They update fairly frequently and often have spectacular photos. Last week I stumbled across an article by Rev. Jonathan Weyer, a Presbyterian minister from Columbus, Ohio who blogs for Huffington. His article called Sacramental Horror Stories: Shining Light Into the Darkness of the Human Heart takes a look at different types of horror and explains why it can help us that there's more to the world than what is visible. The Reverend also published a horror novel called The Faithful. Yep, you heard it right. A horror novel. Follow the link to check out the review at Amazon.

Of course, no discussion of horror would be complete without injecting the name Aaron Polson into the conversation. He posted on Thursday about the setting of prices for one's ebook. Take a moment to drop by his blog and participate in the poll that he's conducting (top right corner of his blog). How much would YOU pay for an ebook novel?

And continuing the discussion of scary things...nice segue, eh?...My pal Laurita Miller has only 6 more sleeps until she shaves off all her hair for the Shave For The Brave campaign. If you haven't done so, please drop by her pledge sheet and throw a few bucks her way. Or pounds, or deutsche marks, or yen...She has WAY surpassed her goal but, you know, why stop there? The money is going to help young adults dealing with cancer. A good cause, no?

And...what could possibly be scarier than Blood Sucking Monkeys from West Mifflin, PA as described by Joe Flaherty as Count Floyd?

Bad Movie Night (Part 3)

2011-03-03T13:32:00.000-03:30

Earlier in the week, I was going to post a recap of the Oscars and the annual friendly competition between 'V' and myself to pick the most winners. But then a day passed. And then another. It's now what I would consider 'old news' as I'm sure you've all heard that "The King's Speech" was the big winner (deservedly so). GLOATING ALERT...I'll just say that my losing streak is finally over and I have finally out-scored the competition. 'V' usually beats me by one or two picks. However, this time I had an impressive 15 out of 18 correct. The categories I got wrong, you might ask? I had picked True Grit for cinematography, but "Inception" won. I figured Geoffrey Rush would be part of "The King's Speech" steam roll. Didn't happen. Christian Bale won his first Oscar for playing the trainer in "The Fighter". I also assumed the lovely, and somewhat eccentric, Helena Bonham Carter would win for "The King's Speech". Nope. The Oscar went to the potty-mouthed Melissa Leo in "The Fighter".

Prof. Larry called for another Bad Movie Night^TMwith only 48 hours notice. We rallied together a skeleton crew of four brave souls and assembled in his basement for another ~~nudie movie~~ cinematic experience. After 45 minutes to choose the 82 minute movie, we settled on on the 1976 stunner "Seven Women for Satan" (Les week-ends maléfiques du Comte Zaroff). This "banned in France" erotic Euro-horror was written, directed by, and starred Michel Lemoine.

The main character lives in a French chateau and his name is Count Zaroff (I think he is supposed to be the nephew of Zaroff, the guy who hunted men on a deserted island in the movie "The Most Dangerous Game" (1932). I suppose Lemoine intended his movie to be an homage to that movie. The saying, "with friends like that, who needs enemies" comes to mind. The Compte is aided by man-servant, philosophical/spiritual advisor, and body removal guy Karl (played by Swiss horror veteran Howard Vernon). Also in residence are the ghost of a woman that his ancestor murdered and a Great Dane called Ingmar. The fashionably-dressed ghost pops up on occasion to torment the Compte, spoiling Karl's attempts to make him a murderous fiend like his uncle.

Don't get me wrong. The Compte murders several women in what appears to be a hallucinogenic rage. He chases them on horseback, in cars and on foot. He's a bad dude that seems to drift between periods of reality and erotic fantasy. Karl's main reason for being there is to provide us with lengthy back story...and, of course, to lure in the occasional hapless female victim into the chateau. I think the dog is there for comedic relief because she certainly isn't very scary. There is a priceless scene where the dog is sent chasing after a woman trying to escape wearing only a blue feather boa (the woman wears the boa, not the dog...). The dog jumps on her in what is meant as a vicious attack. It really looks like the dog is playing and the victim is trying to hold her in place by her collar. Perhaps they smeared the woman's assests with steak sauce to get the dog interested.

Some of the scenes are quite stylishly shot from peculiar angles and with a reasonably good soundtrack. That being said, there was one tune played to death each time the Compte chased after a woman. The story line was difficult to follow (most of what I note here I gleaned from people commenting about the movie at IMDB.com. One zealot commented on a scene where one of the hapless victims is drugged and is dancing lewdly in front of a wooded carving of a black man. The totem, at one point, comes alive and its hands roam across the woman's...well, you get the picture. Anyway, the guy said, "...represents the dark unconscious mind of a white woman's unrestrained sexual drive." Yeah. Right.

The most hilarious aspect of the film was that it was both subtitled AND dubbed in English. As a result, a lot of the dialogue didn't match the text written on the screen and, in fact, was completely different with comedic results. As per usual, I'm not going to recommend this film. Remember…it was Bad Movie Night^TM, not Oscar Winners of the 20^th Century Night. There was one memorable scene with a young couple asking to see the former 'torture chamber' in the dungeon (yeah, for real...they ASKED to see it). I won't spoil it with the details, but suffice it to say they come to a bad end. There was no swearing in the film and even the murder scenes were tame by today's standards. However, the film was over the top in its depictions of violence against women. They were the target throughout the movie. For the most part they are naked and defenseless. Be forewarned if you plan on renting this dud.

Spam. A Lot.

2011-02-26T17:39:00.001-03:30

I don't know that I've ever posted about spam before. It's one of those annoying facts of life that we've all had to accept in today's world of emails. I get emails every other day from companies like 'Western Union' and the 'Guiness Company' informing me I have won lump sums of money. On the in between days, I get emails from barristers and federal ministries informing me that Mr. Biggumby in a certain foreign country has died and left me his ~~scab collection~~ personal fortune. Luckily the spam filter catches most of it.

Early last week, however, we received an email at our home inbox from our Yahoo mail account (one we have kept for 10 years...a constant place we keep despite all our moving). Anyway...it seemed convincing enough and said to click on a link which apparently led the clickee to an advertisement for Viagra. We began getting email from people saying our email had been hijacked. It seemed to be sending out these ads to about 15 people at a time. Sadly, a number of people (strangely, teachers at the boy's school) clicked on the link and opened themselves up to having themselves 'hijacked' as well. A friend suggested changing the password to access the email and that seems to have solved the problem. We sent out a form email to everyone in our Yahoo address book explaining the situation and apologizing for any inconvenience it may have caused, blah, blah, blah...On the plus side, a few people got back to us that we hadn't communicated with in ages.

I received another odd email during the week on my gmail inbox. It was from a certain Sarah Miller from a certain 'Article Writing Services' who had a client who wished to pay me to allow them to post some of their content on my blog. Below is the text from the email. I deleted her return email address from her signature as it lit up as a link and I didn't want anyone to accidentally click on it.

Dear Alan ,

My name is Sarah from Article Writing Services. We have a client who would like to pay you for the opportunity to post some of their content on your website. All of the content is professionally produced and you can select from pieces relevant to your audience.

The result is you get some free, interesting content for your readers while getting paid.

In return our client is asking for one link that they specify at the bottom of the content (no porn or gambling). Feel free to contact me with any concerns or clarifications you may have.

If you would like to see some examples of our content, please email me at sarah@article-writing-services.org so we can begin.

Sincerely,

Sarah Miller
Outreach Manager - Article Writing Services

It seems convincing as it started off 'Dear Alan' and mentioned the blog name in the title, which leads one to think that it's NOT a mass mail out to the public. I did a search with the words 'Sarah Miller', 'Article Writing Services' and 'blog' and came up with piles of blogs who had received the exact email worded the same way. One in particular was to the blog There is Grandeur in This View of Life where the blog host, Goofy Girl, posted about receiving this very email and questioned its validity.

Anyway, the point is that the spammers and virus peddlers are getting smarter and more resourceful by the day. They now charm you and make you feel special. Loved. I'm reminded the eighth grade when two girls fought over me during square dancing lessons in gym class. It's not that I was such a catch, but really the other boy remaining was prone to nose bleeds, had severe acne and a wicked limp.

For those of you who made it to the end of this rambling, whiny post...I reward you NOT with spam, but with Spamalot. Enjoy the YouTube video (er, I would guess not from an official source) of Tim Curry and Michael McGrath singing an uplifting little Broadway number. Remember, don't let spam get you down.

Always look on the bright side of life.

Cheesecake Overdose

2011-02-20T20:53:00.000-03:30

Those of you who have followed this blog for a long time may recall that we attend a cheesecake party every February. This was my commentary from last year that includes many of the rules and whatnot, so I won't bore you with it again. There were 13 entries (see photo above) and this year's theme was "True and False". This meant that either your cheesecake title or your statement of rationale had to contain an element that was both true and false. I know, it all sounds a bit confusing...I only go for the fine dining (I bet that you're all picturing me wearing a bib and wielding my own silverware).

The gentleman who hosts the event...the same professor Larry that hosts 'Bad Movie Night'...is an academic, and many other ~~eggheads~~ academic associates of his were in attendance. One aspect of the evening was that everyone competing must make a small speech explaining how their cheesecake met the requirements of the theme. One gentleman, a professor of philosophy, stole the show by going on a Shakespearean rant explaining why he thought the theme was bogus because something can not be 'true and false', it can only be 'true or false'. Everyone was relieved that he cut his presentation down to two pages from it's original 50 pages...

Shown above is Sean's entry, Area 51, that contained such odd ingredients as: honey, dates, lemon rind and the ever-popular tofu. In fact, it contained NO cheese at all. It didn't taste too bad either. He called it Area 51 because while he and his mother were making it, he exclaimed, "You'd have to be from another world to want to eat this!" 'V' and I went with the same Chocolate Almond Cheesecake that we have entered the past two years. Predictable yet yummy. If anyone wants the recipe for either of these just send me an email and I'll be happy to pass them along.

There were three newcomers to the event this year and I had a chance to chat with each of them. One man is from Houston and has been living here for five years. He works for one of the larger oil companies and has enjoyed his time on The Rock. He is an avid golfer and was disappointed to discover that you can only golf for about 7 months of the year. He was also a bit baffled as to how people here golfed in 40km/h winds.

Another young man attended with his wife and 6 month old daughter (I figured the baby should have been entered in the contest because she was a real cutie-pie...sadly, only cakes could be entered). This man is from Nigeria and has also been living here for five years. He has another year and a half to go until he completes his PhD in chemistry.

The third man was there with his two children. His name is Pete Stanbridge and he has his own company that manufactures drums. Wooden ones that you play, not the steel ones that you store stuff in. He hand makes them from exotic woods and ships them all over the world. Check out his web site if you get a chance, especially if you're in the market for a cool looking drum.

I think that it's really great that you can go to something like a cheesecake party and meet such a diverse bunch of folks from all over the place doing such different things. And here I thought we were living in such a remote location with little influence from the outside world (like an indigenous tribe in the Amazon--that would be the one in South America, not the one that sells stuff online).

Professor Larry brought the event to a close with the presentation of the prizes: all hand-picked from the bargain bin at Princess Auto. He was stunning in his tie-dyed shirt and pilgrim hat (I really should get him something more suitable, such as a fez, for next years festivities). We were not able to repeat our 'Best Overall Cheesecake' but Sean won a prize for Best Presentation and Ginny won a door prize. Sadly, I did not win the 'Most Cheesecake Consumed' award. This honour went to Professor Larry's 11 year old son. All I got was a sugar rush and a sore tummy.

I'll close with a few photos from the evening. Notice the orange one on the right of the first photo. The mice on top are made from eggshells. I thought that the Gold 'Boolean' Cake was kind of clever. The third photo has a tall, round cake in the foreground. That's actually two wheels of brie cheese stacked to top of one another, cemented together with a layer of Kraft Cheese Whiz. Interesting and effective.

Today, I Will Post Something Sane and Useful

2011-02-17T20:42:00.000-03:30

I looked back on my posts since the start of the year and have discovered that I haven't posted a #fridayflash story since before Christmas *hangs head in shame* I also noticed a disturbing trend away from writerly topics. Recent posts have varied from the mundane (the weather and snow shovelling) to the bizarre (athletic supporters and flower bearing hamsters). I have also delved into the world of culinary pursuits, with posts about haggis and soylent green (note- tastes like chicken) and even the a post about my son's artistic endeavours that always seem a tad....er, phallic.

I thought it high time to get on track with a writerly topic...especially since we are attending the annual 'cheese cake' party this weekend and I'll HAVE to post about THAT.

The surviving members of our writing group recently attended a 'one-of' writing class at the university. It was called 'Writer's Bootcamp' and was taught by local author Chad Pelley. There was a ton of information to take in regarding publishing, agents, self-publishing, local contests and a lot of writing tips. I'm sure that Chad wouldn't mind if I paraphrased a bit from his page on getting published from "The Slushpile".

The first thing to know about unsolicited submissions to publishers: No publisher will read your full manuscript right off the bat. They don't have the time.

As a rule, what they want from you at first is a one-page cover letter about you (as a writer, NOT where you live and how many children you have, but your writing credits, etc), a brief summary on your book, and a ten-to-fifteen page sample from your manuscript. If they like this, they'll request the full manuscript.

Despite the nasty name, people DO get published from a slushpile. Many people. There are plenty of examples of wildly successful books having been plucked from the masses. This can't be stressed enough:
your submission package is more important than your manuscript. You get one chance to impress the reader into wanting to read you manuscript.* Don't get lazy about the cover letter your book will speak for itself. Make the book summary an engaging read. The publishers who do accept submissions get hundreds of submissions every year, but, can only publish 10-20 books a year. The grim reality is that less than 10% of what get submitted to a publisher gets published.

The ultimate goal of a query letter to a publisher (or agent) is to get them to ask for you book.

Sound like a writer and keep focused and convincing.

* As a side note-- I had another night school instructor who had worked for a publisher reading submissions from the slushpile. How HE decided if a manuscript submission went on? He would flip through the pages looking for dialogue. If care was given to ensuring crisp, engaging dialogue then the same care was likely given to the rest of the book and it would be given further consideration. Something to think about.

All sounds like good advise to me. Now I've just gotta write the damn book. I'll be back this weekend with highlights from the cheesecake party. I know...it's not quite the same as being there. I'd send you all a piece through the mail, but those darn posties would probably sniff out the sample and it would be deemed 'undeliverable'. Do not fear. I'll be getting back to my usual silly posts. Topics being considered for the near future are--

leather fashions for chinchillas
Is alcohol REALLY a good sleep medicine?
care and cleaning of your winter fez
Daily living with guidance from Tarot cards
fine dining in the Newfoundland out ports

Happy Valentines

2011-02-14T07:07:00.002-03:30

I just thought that I'd send out a quick Valentines greeting to my girl-fans. If you are a guy-fan, pretend the creatures are a more manly rodent...perhaps rats or weasels. And that the one beastie is handing the other a 6-pack of Molsons Canadian. I'd like to assure you that no animals were harmed during this photo session, but I can't be sure that they haven't been handled recently by a taxidermist.

I'm Just Joking Around...

2011-02-10T20:49:00.000-03:30

I'm not a big fan of perpetuating jokes via the email. I'll get them on occasion, but they will go no farther. I received a joke sheet from a former co-worker back at corporate HQ that displayed a lot of merit. There was a nice mix poking fun at 'maleness', sex, death and just a touch of political incorrectness.

I've edited out half the jokes so only the ones that really appealed to me appear below. Now that's a scary peek into my psyche. If you've read them before...apologies and quickly move on to the next blog in your surfing. For those interested, I've included a video at the bottom pertinent to #12...

1. Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.

2. There is great need for a sarcasm font.

3. Was learning cursive really necessary?

4. Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.

5. Bad decisions make good stories.

6. You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you know that you just aren't going to do anything productive for the rest of the day.

7. I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten-page technical report that I swear I did not make any changes to.

8. I think part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die.

9. I wish Google Maps had an "Avoid Ghetto" routing option.

10. How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear or understand a word they said?

11. I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars team up to prevent a jerk from cutting in at the front. Stay strong, brothers and sisters!

12. An athletic ‘cup’, or testicular guard, was used in Hockey in 1874. The first helmet was used in 1974. That means it only took 100 years for men to realize that their brain is also important.

Pimpage Galore (a James Bond Character?)

2011-02-07T21:31:00.001-03:30

I had fully intended to post yesterday but got distracted by something or another. Perhaps ~~a pretty girl smiled at me~~ a bird flew by or somebody flashed something shiny at me. I was going to call the post Shout-out Sunday, advertising good stuff on the go. Maybe today can be 'Make a Pitch Monday'. Problem with that is the title may mislead some into thinking the post was about baseball or cricket or pitching fits.

Anyway, there IS good stuff out there...my writing buddy, good friend and fellow islander Laurita Miller is the featured writer today at Lily Childs' Feardom blog. February is Femmes Fatales month over at Lily's place and Laurita's story Red is a tasty, bite-sized feature that you don't want to miss out on.

And speaking of Laurita...you may recall an earlier post about her 'donating' her hair next month at the 'Shave for the Brave' fundraiser to benefit young adults dealing with cancer. If you haven't done so, please take a moment and drop by her blog Brain Droppings and read her musings, short stories and, once in a while, a touch of poetry. You can connect to her 'Shave for the Brave' fundraising page here.

But wait...the goodness is not done...the horror anthology 52 Stitches, edited by Aaron Polson is still available for purchase. For those of you who follow #fridayflash, Laura Eno's story Dangerous Premonitions and Karen Schindler's sultry tale Aftertaste can be found lurking in its depths. And I almost forgot...my dark story Thor's Hammer can also be found in this anthology. Just a little tale about kids misbehaving...

It should be noted that this year's edition of 52 Stitches is dedicated to writer Jamie Eyberg who died tragically, along with his wife, last August. All profits from the sale of 52 Stitches will go to a trust fund set up for their children. The book can be purchased through Amazon and you can link to that here. Isn't that one creepy, little cover...

Work and Play in Canada

2011-02-03T21:00:00.001-03:30

We've had our second large-ish dumping of snow for the season, finally putting us into a 'we are finally into winter' mindset. The schools were shut for today and many businesses were closed for the morning. We got the snow that many in Ontario were forecasting for Wednesday. 'Snowmagedon' was advertised, but really it was more of a 'minor social occassion'. They expected so much more...'Snowtorious B.I.G.' was advertised, but really it was Justin Bieber who showed up for the show. The photo above is of Sean using the snow machine, its wicked-sharp blades chopping up the snow, with his eyes closed. He's that good...

This photo is of me using a sharp, snow-poking thingy to threatening the boy to work harder. I want the most from the $1 that I am paying him. You're probably wondering about the bungee cord around my neck...that's to tie him off the the handlebars of the snow blower so he can't sneak off from the job.

We in the northern climes have learned to embrace our wintry 5 month respite from the warm temps. Some here stay warm by shovelling the driveway others by lifting a pint or three of brew. Some prefer to spend hours each winter participating in activities such as ice hockey, snowshoeing and waiting in drive-through line ups at Tim Horton's donut shops. A few days ago, I heard of a new and strange activity here in Canada.

Apparently the first officially sanctioned Yukigassen tournament in North America was held last weekend in Saskatoon. It is a winter sport that originated in Japan and translates as 'snow battle'. Teams of seven try to win the game by eliminating their opponents by hitting them with a snow ball or by stealing the other team's flag. I heard that the temperatures in Saskatoon were in the -20's and I think that all of those young people chucking lumps of hardened snow at each other are either really brave or really crazy. I watched this video produced by Tourism Saskatchewan a couple of times and am reasonably sure that there was no drinking involved during its making. Maybe. I think that it would be a fun thing to try at least once.

I missed that aspect of my childhood as I grew up in Victoria which is probably the warmest spot in Canada in the winter. All we had was slush and it would melt really quickly due to the heat from our hands. Mittens? Didn't have 'em. We were too poor for mittens. Did I ever tell you about the time...

I'm Supposed to Eat That?

2011-01-31T21:19:00.003-03:30

I read a story online today that gave me the willys...err, you know what I mean. It was a Reuters article about a developmental biologist and tissue engineer (huh?) by the name of Dr. Vladimir Mironov who is trying to bio engineer "cultured" meat in a South Carolina lab. He feels that these new meat products could help deal with global food crises of the future.

Did anyone else think of the movie Soylent Green just now? What's not to love about those cool, green wafers. Yum! For the younger crowd who haven't seen it...it's set in the year 2022 (was made in 1973) and is a stark vision of the future where the population has exploded and the food is scarce. I'll stick on a trailer for the movie at the bottom of the post, for those feeling in a '70's Retro sort of mood. Fantastic sci-fi with Charlton Heston and Edward G. Robinson in his last movie.

You can link to the full Yahoo story here. Dr. Mironov has a visiting scholar of cancer cell biology, Nicholas Genovese, who is working under a three year grant from PETA. Genovese said, "Animals require between 3 and 8 pounds of nutrient to make 1 pound of meat. It's fairly inefficient. Animals consume food and produce waste. Cultured meat doesn't have a digestive system..."

Laboratory cultured steaks. I only have three or four steaks a year (evil cholesterol) and prefer them the old-fashioned way...from the freezer section. Under plastic. Chock-full of growth hor...

I'm thinking that if my only cost-effective options are cultured meat products from my friendly neighbourhood Fermi or DuPont Labs I may be looking at a future diet of eggplants and lentils...Oh! That reminds me of the sweet potato soup that 'V' force-fed me for supper tonight...my doctor would be so happy.

Am I Awake Yet?

2011-01-29T12:28:00.001-03:30

"...and the great, woolly mammoth stirred temporarily from its deep slumber."

Yeah, sounds like a good line. Perhaps I'll use it in a story one day. It's a pretty good description of the state of my writing this year so far. I scraped together about 750 words for a flash story the past couple of weeks. I'm not happy with it, though, and will work with the suggestions from the 'writing group' and try to evolve it into something interesting.

It's been an odd week. In the blink of an eye it passed by in a blurr. "Forgive me...fa...it's been a week since my last post." I know...a penance of some sorts is in order.

We had the boy's birthday this week, so my parents came down for a visit. And cleaning the house prior to their visit was quite a chore (even with the assistance of a dozen types of cleaners, a couple of Swiffers and a team of hunch-backed, old, cleaning ladies). It was also surprising that I missed Robbie Burns day on the 25th all together. Nary a word about it in the news either. Guess that I'll have to crack open that bottle of single malt and eat tinned haggis for supper tonight. I think that I may be dining alone.

I forgot to mention that I received a package in the mail a couple of weeks ago that contained two books. I hadn't ordered anything from Amazon? They were from a certain A. Polson in Kansas. I was so perplexed about why I had been given the copies of Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad and Robert Frost's Poems that I emailed him asking why. Back in November he had held a contest at his blog promoting the release of his book Loathsome, Dark & Deep. I think that I had read as far as "winner of an Amazon gift card for $25" and stopped reading when I Wooted! and did a happy-dance about the office (much to the chagrin of my neighbours who discovered it was "Pantsless Friday"). So...apparently the books were another prize for winning the contest (to be honest, my name was randomly drawn...or so Aaron Polson SAYS...I think that he's developed a soft spot for Canadians--and why NOT?)

But don't despair. You can enter his newest promotional contest described here until this Monday. I have a purchased a copy of Loathsome but, alas, am yet to read it. I will surely post about the book once I've read it.

But wait...Al the Pimp is not finished yet! A friend emailed me this morning with a link to Jodi MacArthur's Love Bug contest. I have no idea how I missed her post on that. I was probably ~~on my hands and knees, slaving away, scrubbing muddy paw prints off the floor~~ sleeping. She's looking for one-liners to post leading up to Valentines. I think that you have up to Feb. 3 to get her an ending to..."Love is..." How hard could it be. Even a geezer like me managed to dredge up some Hallmark-ish wisdom. Or perhaps it was something I heard uttered by my thrice divorced Uncle Angus...

Manly Art?

2011-01-22T11:05:00.001-03:30

I don't discuss art often here because anyone who knows me knows that I'm failry ignorant on the subject. Those that have read this blog for a while may recall my ramblings about a couple of members of the Group of Seven in December of 2009. Now before everyone starts reading this and saying, "that Alan is such an ass-hat" just hold off a minute. My son has given me permission to blog about his recent creations and knows that I won't cross the line. Well, not too much...

Sean is not an artistic person. I don't think that's a secret to anyone that knows him. Through grade school, the most artistic tendencies he displayed were stick men and colouring books and crayons (and he didn't even stay within the lines).This obviously comes from me as I haven't an artistic bone in my body. I can appreciate art, but making it is another matter.

The boy preferred to spend his time taking things apart to see how they worked...small appliances, a television, a microwave...nothing was immune to his dissection. Thankfully all of these items were past their prime because he didn't have a clue how to put them back together.

You can imagine my surprise a few weeks ago when he brought home a sculpted....er, large purple object (shown above) from his 9th grade art class at school. He has named it 'The Gilded Demon' because he figured it "looked sort of royal". I am encouraging him to box it up and FedEx it to William and Kate in the UK to help celebrate their nuptials this April. I think he wants to keep it, though, on account of the long hours fashioning it into just the right shape with his blistered fingers. The GD is a wire frame with panty hose stretched over it and painted. I didn't ask where the hosiery in question came from...sometimes a guy's got to have his secrets.

Just when we thought the 'artistic well' was tapped dry Sean brought home this wooden, umm...object...home from school. It was created in the wood working shop. It is made of wood glued together and cut and sanded to the shape shown above. "Nice Arrow," I said. "It's not an arrow," he replied with annoyance in his voice. He looked at me like I had sprouted another head. I was nervous now, trying to avoid bringing up the symbolic shape of the object. "It's a car," he said and pointed out the drill holes in the sides of the shaft for a future axle. "Very nice," I said, smiling and nodding. Drilled into the square end is a large hole, apparently for a future CO2 canister. Just guessing here, but if Sean has a French project soon he'll probably create a scale model of the Eiffel Tower. And in science he'll probably create a replica of the V2 rocket...

We've probably got nobody to blame but ourselves for the unique shape of the boy's artistic creations. Perhaps it was all the trips to Toronto we took him on as a small child. What's the first landmark you can see towering over the city for miles before arriving there? Of course...it's the CN Tower, piercing the brown-ish air of the Toronto skyline. Don't get me wrong, we're all for his creative endeavours...especially if he can off of them in the future. Even as I am typing this I can hear him in the living room listening to bagpipe music on YouTube. He'll be 15 next week and, if I may use a cliche, definitely walks to the beat of his own drummer. I'm OK with whatever he does down the road. I'll be behind it 100% as long as it's a) legal b) he can live off of it, and c) it gets him out of our basement and into his own place.