To An Athlete Dying Young

Everyday, teenagers are killed in car accidents. It always stings whether you know them or not. I've had a friend to have her only child to die from losing control of his automobile this past weekend. Two others in the car were unharmed. Another one may be paralyzed. On the other side of the county, another high schooler is in intensive care from an accident at about the same time.

I did not know the child well. But I do know he was a good boy. I am very fond of his mother and family. I have always loved children and especially teenagers.

What moves me the most about this is the big question of Why?

I can appreciate someone being agnostic. I was for most of my life. Even now that thought permeates me. One day when it came the hardest, I dreamed about my dad and woke up in the middle of the night. I feel like my dad visited me. I had one other dream where I was working outside. Trying to finish my work before stopping. My dad was telling me to stop and spend time with my mother and brother.

When my dad passed, my grandmother was in the process of a dying. There were snow flurries and snow was almost a definite for the next day. Georgia is not equipped to deal with snow, and everyone stays home. At the evening school I worked at we had the option to give the kids their final exam that day versus the next day when they were due. I gave my students the option with the opportunity to study.

Most were ready to take the test within ten minutes. I had one student who took her time. I had decided to raise her grade by five points for every extra five minutes she studied. During that time, it was like someone really happy came into my room and said, "So this is where you work." It was brief but I took note of the time.  My dad unexpectedly passed at about the time when I had the visit.

When my grandmother's mother passed, a bowl she had given my mother cracked in half at the moment she died. My mother was baking apples in the bowl like she had baked so many other batches of apples.

I have read where other people had a similar experience and it is called the "final goodbye". My grandmother passed away shortly after my dad's funeral.

What tore me up the most after my dad died was talk about people having heart attacks. I had a friend who found out she had had a mild heart attack during a physical before a cosmetic procedure. Sitting at dinner, it was difficult to listen to the story and not betray how I felt. The person who asked my dad and grandmother's age and said, "Well they were old." was more of a shock and what a story to repeat item in my mind.

I've led a fairly enchanted life in that I have never had that many people around me die. The only thing I know is to say I'm sorry, pray for the survivors and never avoid someone because I don't know what to say.

A young history teacher was surprised to know I was a Christian. He thought I was an atheist. That was a shock of information. Where I live, if you are an unbeliever, it is best to keep it to yourself. So this admission was disturbing. I never brought religion into the classroom. It is really the domain of parents and I always respected that. What I did share with him is that I don't think people have to have religion to be good. But religion does help you through the difficult parts of your life.

What I think about when someone so young with so much promise dies young is the bible verse and old saying that our deaths are an appointment with our maker. The other thought is the poem in high school called "To An Athlete Dying Young" by A. E. Housman. It was written in 1896. I remember studying it in high school and thought it was such a yawner at the time. Funny how that yawner has stayed with me.

Any way, you can grieve and rage but it does not change what has happened. The memorial will be Saturday. The shock of it being a child I knew has torn me up. I can't imagine how the family is doing. They are clearly in shock. They appear to be taking it well. God bless them. I know they have a painful journey ahead..


To An Athlete Dying Young

The time you won your town the race,
We chaired you through the marketplace;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
As home we brought you shoulder-high.

To-day, the road all runners come,
Shoulder-high we bring you home,
And set you at your threshold down,
Townsman of a stiller town.

Smart lad, to slip betimes away
From fields where glory does not stay
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose.

Eyes the shady night has shut
Cannot see the record cut,
And silence sounds no worse than cheers
After earth has stopped the ears:

Now you will not swell the rout
Of lads that wore their honours out,
Runners whom renown outran
And the name died before the man.

So set, before its echoes fade,
The fleet foot on the sill of shade,
And hold to the low lintel up
The still-defended challenge-cup.

And round that early-laurelled head
Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead,
And find unwithered on its curls

The garland briefer than a girl's.

Writer's Police Academy

I attended the writer's police academy sponsored by Sister's in Crime in Green Bay, Wisconsin.  You wouldn't think it would be so much fun spending a few days exploring murder and mayhem. But it was.

I came a day early to rest up. Delta Air Lines is still in the throes of their power outage. My first flight left late. It was scheduled for 8 PM. The flight had been delayed until 10 PM. However, I am glad I got to the airport early. We left around 9:30. The best part was I got to go through the TSA prechek. I got to wear my shoes, they scanned my bags, I walked through a metal detector.

Long story short, I was exhausted when I got to Green Bay. The next day, I rested up and blew about $160 in the slot machines of the Casino. I have a fascination with folks who deliberately go to a casino and blow money. Then I go and blow money with the Chinese Zodiac slot machine. I also played the 1950's movie "The Blob" machine.

Tami Hoag and Les Goldberg

Special guests at the conference was Les Goldberg and Tami Hoag. Les Goldberg was a scream. He was so funny. He wrote his first book at 19. He was hilarious describing his experience writing sex scenes and he had never had sex. Actually, his jokes could be bland but it was his delivery that cracked you up. He introduced himself as a free lance sexual surrogate, screenwriter. What impressed me the most is his sincerity with putting you at ease and talking to you as a person. He was very positive and supporting.

Tami Hoag's presentation spiel was not rib cracking funny and not exactly serious. It was just an honest talk about her writing life. What I liked most was her response to a question in the follow-up panel on the last day. She described her response to a reporter who asked her opinion about a criminal case. She told them she was a writer, not law enforcement or a lawyer. She was not in the category of an expert. I liked that response. I've seen celebrities answer questions or offer opinions in areas outside their area of expertise. A few have done so out politeness to the questioner in the audience.

Once again, the street cops were the most informative. Their presentations are more grounded, less guarded. You get specifics not generalities. I was surprised and had my mind changed about concealed carry. I am not too fond of people carrying guns. I would not go anywhere I thought I needed one. However, the law enforcement officer said that most LEO have no problem with licensed, trained concealed carry.

I also learned that open carry is not a good idea from another participant. It makes them a target when there is an open shooter. Law enforcement does not know if they are the good guy or the bad guy.

This is my third time going. I felt somewhat foolish in that I don't write mysteries or crime dramas nor have I finished a novel. The ones I am working on can be best described as literary fiction, science fiction and children's stories. I've come close to quitting this year.

But I enjoyed the event. I liked so many people I met there. The information is incredible in comparison to just reading about the topic. I noticed many of the big name writers went to classes like the rest of us. Les Goldberg shared how a little reality and authenticity makes the less believable part of your story believable. He wrote the television series Monk. He described how in real life, no detective wore shirts to show their cleavage, chased down bad guys in high heels and traveled back to the station in their silver plated Escalades. These are not his exact words but close to it.

What I liked about the Oneida casino and Radisson next to the airport were these topiaries. The sleep number beds were like sleeping on a semi-inflated inner tube. How firm the mattress was depended on how full the mattress was filled with air. I don't recommend them.

The Ruskies are coming.

My blog is blowing up this week.

These readers are from Russia. All of my 491 posts are being read at least four times. Sort of makes me think of Pop goes the Weasel or the game when I was a kid in which one chair was taken away. I think Vladimir Putin knows I'm not voting for the Orange Man.

Ironic in I have a few real Orange Men in my family tree. The fact they landed up in North America shows how much they were rewarded. These Orangemen were from Scotland and were loyal to the Catholic King James VII (Scotland) and II (England). Apparently this branch of my family got the boot before all the skirmishes were over. They were in North America before the 1700s. Even more irony is that their descendents are all buried in Protestant cemeteries.  The Orangemen of Ireland defended the Protestant cause.

I had a normal friend post a conspiracy theory on Facebook today. I chided him that he was slipping to the dark side. Not that I don't think some pretty shady, underhanded power plays are at work every day. It is just that some are too damn fabulous to be true. Add to that the fact that my browser and computer have been frozen from hitting some of the links. I know I shouldn't. But the more incredible, I just got to look. A friend of mine commented if you don't find a good conspiracy theory, make your own up.

I have gotten hooked on Big Brother. I watch every summer. This summer, the guests are boring. Almost all of them say the f-bomb two or three times a sentence. I sound prudish. It is more that they express themselves so poorly. Alright, I don't like cursing. Dangit!

Talk about conspiracy, almost all of them talk different to one another. They are usually voted off shortly after they become irritating, go on a power grab, get angry, get too emotional about a relationship. I do this every summer. I hate to see any of them voted off. My favorite is James. He has guts. I hope he gets HOH soon. The HOH gets to nominate two people to be voted out of the house.

I would like to see some of the power players voted off. Those in charge of putting everyone up to be voted out. There is satisfaction in seeing them get a taste of their own medicine. Everyone usually takes a safe (albeit cowardly) choice in hopes of others not wanting to kick them out afterwards. James does not take names. He blows everyone out of the water come what may. No guts, no glory.

I decided to translate this blog post into Russian and back into English for reference. Then I realized I did not know how to do that. Sort of my preemptive strike at all the nuttiness in the world. It just amazes me that this blog of little traffic could garner all that attention. Believe me, none of Hillary's emails are here. But I do know where you can find a lot of cat videos.

Facebook has also proved some of the stereotypes of cat people. Now that is a big leap. But not if you are a cat person. I know. I am a cat person with a whole bunch of dogs. So those Ruskies better not think they can sneak up on me. But my conspiracy theory will be a little wilder than normal. At least I hope it is. You can lie and tell me it is. It will not hurt my feelings. I will just get the big head and threaten all of Russia. You better not be stealing my posts.

What my posts are not that newsworthy? I'm having a hard time with my conspiracy theory anyhow.

Well Holly Berries, oh my.

What came first, the chicken or the egg?

My reading inclination is non-fiction. I have some great fiction on my Kindle but I read the collection of Slave Narratives from the WPA work program of the 1930s. To say some of the stories were harrowing was an understatement. Technically, it was research for my WIP.

I'm muttering through an online course. I have to finish by August 5th. The worst part is in previous courses, I couldn't wait until the next portion. With this one, I am slugging away. I think one of my mistakes is to sign up for the class when I had too much going on. There is something about getting behind in your work.

I used to promptly grade papers. If I let them set too long, I never graded them. They would wind up in the garbage. My first year teaching school, I had two paper grocery bags full of ungraded work. Being not much more than a kid myself, I slipped them out of school and tossed them into a garbage bin at a small store in the town to hide my crime.

I know, everyone is thinking about that huge homework assignment they never got back. It's in the garbage bin at the Stop and Shop.

I accidentally posted my blog early last week so I have changed my weekly day to blog to Wednesday from Friday. The good part is you are much less likely to hear about the weekly grocery expedition that happens every Wednesday.

Tomorrow, I have a doctor's appointment. I have not taken my prescribed cholesterol meds. Like a kid, it is too late. I have got to admit my transgression. This is mostly over lack of habit. It started because I couldn't eat my canned grapefruit. I used to eat a can of grapefruit every evening. Once again, delay led to me getting nothing done.

Procrastination is not my friend.

Add to that my underlying Type A personality, I charge ahead too easily and the price is I don't always enjoy what I do. Being a huge reader, this writing thing has put a huge hurdle in settling down with a good book. My dad always read a book two times. The second time to pick up little details he missed. I read "Island of the Blue Dolphins" about 40 times as a teacher. The more I read it, the more I liked it.

Did I mention two new stories have danced into my head.

It ain't all going to happen. I've started reading Sandra Cox's book Ghost For Sale and I am hooked. I was supposed to go to my water aerobics class tonight but the evening storms are brewing. So darn, I'll just have to keep on reading.

Do you procrastinate, prioritize or chunk it? If I could only chunk a few household chores.

Set your recorder.

I'll let you in on a little secret. I know how to not watch the political conventions. Record them on your VCR, DVD, or whatever you use to record a program. Nobody watches half of what they record. That's why people feel compelled to binge watch Netflix. Imagine having a day to do that. I'm retired and that is some of the keenest fantasy written in pop culture today.

I haplessly watched the entire Republican convention. It is my practice to read, surf the internet or play games on my computer as the television plays in the background. I have a few shows I watch. I decided I would watch the Dems do their thing since I had watched the Repubs do theirs. Sort of like rubbernecking. You know you shouldn't. It is possible you can see and hear things you don't like.

When I started blogging, I thought no politics. I haven't followed my rule. The main reason is that some are so stuck on their opinion, they are turned off when you don't agree. It's that salesperson in me or that teenager who wanted everyone to like me. Plus, deep down, I know talking politics is easy. It is not a huge perspective for any of us.

I try to straddle the fence in that I worry about being opinionated when it comes to politics. There are good points to both sides. It is hard to see that in that leaders of both sides make deals that benefit them. Those feet of clay can be pretty big some times.I chide my older brother we are going to fight old age by not having such strong opinions.

But there is a piece of me that has to be honest with my blogging friends. It is not that I want to convince anyone how they should vote. I truly believe the man upstairs has it all under control. No matter who is elected, he has it taken care of. I know that God can move mountains and certainly a person's heart.

I did not like John Boehner; because of all the discord between Congress and the President. I no longer feel that way. He was an honest public servant. With causing two expensive government shutdowns, Ted Cruz was not my favorite. I have more respect for Ted Cruz in telling Republicans to vote their conscience.

Although no one needed insurance in my immediate family; I recognize how devastating it is not to have insurance. So I have liked Obamacare from the "gitgo". No it is not perfect by any means. But it does give a large slice of our population a way to have insurance. Having to be indigent to get healthcare is not good. Plus, very few doctors will take patients without insurance.

Because of this and the refusal to acknowledge climate change, I am a yellow dog Democrat. Not everyone in my family feels the same way. I have a brother embarrassed about my political opinion. He is very grateful I keep my opinions on the down low. He loves Donald Trump. He feels he tells it like it is.

A brother and sister of mine are true independents. I had been an independent. I still vote Republican if I like the candidate better. There are six of us in all. My brother that lives with me does not vote and I have no idea how my sister that lives with me votes. I vote like my mom. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

So this is hopefully the last time I write about politics. My opinion is more in I want to be upfront with who I am. However, if Donald Trump is elected, I will respect that too. Because, the man upstairs knows what he is doing. There is a purpose to all the good and bad in our lives. We don't acknowledge the good. It is what gives us the greater part of our humanity. The bad can either enhance that or bring out the worst in us.

It's all good folks. And don't forget to set your recorder. You know you'll never watch it now. Now, I got to find a good safe topic for next week. Now let's all turn to chapter 6 in the book of John, Yikes, I guess I need to stay away from religion too.

I always hated office politics; but come to think of it, I hate all politics.

This weekend is the big Macon Film Festival week. If I had my wish, I would go when it opened and leave at the end of the after party.

I have not traded my electronic ticket for my festival pass. I missed the Sundance Short Film training session, a Q & A with Andrew McCarthy and a viewing of "Pretty in Pink" in the Historic Douglas Theatre.

I always do something for my house each day. I do not avoid it at all costs. So after I took my sister to the doctor, I planted four plants and mopped the floors. Plus Thursday is garbage day and the dogs got two extra walks in. I decided to skip the Sundance session. That was OK. I would do water aerobics.

My sister is pretty perturbed and informs me the house was 83 degrees. Mom with her blood thinner, and me with my cold nature, it felt pretty good. But the air conditioner was not working correctly. I turned it off and tried to reset it to no luck. I pick my brother up where the bus drops him off. I come home, my sister and even my mother is in a state about the air conditioner. My sister intones it is 87 degrees.

I had the dehumidifier working. I cranked up the AC with the unit for my end of the house. I shut the power off at the circuit breaker and turned it back on. We've had a lot of electrical storms. I am replacing the thermostat when the heat and air is serviced this fall. Good news is the AC is back on.

Afterwards, my mother is on her walker telling me if it needs fixing, she has a checkbook. This from the woman who complains constantly how cold the house is. The temperature is now 80 degrees. It was 92 when my sister told me it was 87.

I did not tell my sister it was a dry heat. She and her dog are in her room with the door closed. It must be cool enough for her.

I wound up not being able to go to the Q & A, the movie or after party. So I took my brother out to eat. We ate at Red Lobster. I know the food is supposed to be good and it was. I am not a big chain food lover. My preference are locally owned restaurants. There is a blandness to mass production.

That extends to my reading preferences, I no longer reach for any bestseller. Usually, I read my blogging friends and writer acquaintances and the stories are richer and have more color to them. This is why I love the film festival. You get to watch so many films that would never be shown on television or Netflix.

At the moment, I am watching a huge fairy tale, the Republican National Convention. All politics on this level have a "lala" level of reality in my opinion. The Democrats will serve up their version of Utopia if they get voted in during their convention.

I have decided to vote for Hillary. I can't vote for Donald Trump. Not because of the negative press and his opinions. It is the race issue. He is so polarizing to black America. We are all so ready to implode over race relations. Frankly, I don't think politicos have that much freedom and will do about the same thing. They will just call it different names. Being a military brat, the Pentagon will have a "come to Jesus" meeting with Trump and he will follow in line. They can be persuasive.

What bothers me the most about the election is the divisiveness. There is a lot of truth to united we stand. Somehow, people have lost their ability to have "float" which is the ability to tolerate different opinions. Is it realistic to have the my way or the highway approach to life.

My dad talked about the poverty of the Great Depression. They made it. It was horrible. But they survived. We will too. Hopefully it will not be like the Great Depression. But we do need to stop with our belligerent opinions. We are destroying something more precious. Our love and cooperation with one another.

Even though, I don't care for Trump's speech. Hillary Clinton is going to do the same thing. I think I will change the channel. I plan to put a few more posts in this weekend. I love the film festival. But I forgot how much I hated office politics. I loved the start of a new job where you were oblivious to it all. Now I know, I just hate politics.

Snoozing on Sundays

Working to gain followers on twitter has been my goal this week. It is easier than writing my novel and requires no housework. I have a lot of good books to read. I woke up with a low grade cold Sunday morning. Our Sunday dinner was just us with no guests which takes a bit of fun out of it. But I did not want to share my cold which was short-lived. The worst part was I couldn't do any yard

work which I love to do.

I've yet to find what the joy of twitter is. It is like the penny pincher gazette with a myriad of ads. Everyone is selling their book. I've gotten so many direct messages of free books, like me on Facebook, validate yourself on true twitter, offers to increase my followers, offers to perform miracles for me of a literary nature.

And all I got was a slap on the wrist. I was busy deleting followers who did not follow back. Some of them were very unrelated to me. My thought with twitter was why follow someone if they had no interest in me. I understand why all the celebrities on SNL did not follow me back. Anyway, I could not follow people for awhile due to my massive deletion of about 300 people.

I looked up the reason why, they frown on people churning their accounts for followers. Well I was churning. A few people I blocked due to the fact they are porn. But anyone that followed me, I followed. Meanwhile in the back of my mind was the fact that I am able to follow people I have no knowledge of and I may not like them. Add to that, they might not like me. Luckily the 140 character limit allows me to understand a few Spanish and couple of French folks that followed me.

My blog visitors were up. Apparently some want to check you out when you begin to follow them. So, if my goal was to have a higher readership of my blog, I could do a mess of liking. I have heard you can like 500 people in one days. I may have hit that threshold.

I remember when I first started twitter. Some stranger would follow me and I would carefully check them out. Now, if there is no sexy woman, no mention of BDSM, fetish, no politics like "X stinks and is an idiot, party affiliation is fine, I will follow them back. Sometimes they are sneaky, one innocent looking twitterer constantly recommended some pretty dirty books with their not so tantalizing passages. It is great to not be young in that you truly could care less, the curiosity is gone.

My beef is that occasionally I would get a follow by someone with a huge amount of followers in the past. Then after I followed them back, they unfollowed me. So ---

I also played with their ads. I got 12 followers. Of that 12, some of them were spammers. But I got close to 650 by churning.

Anyway, I got an audience. The bulk of which is preoccupied with selling me their book. But tomorrow, I start my first regular tweet which will be front yard Friday. I've got to cook up some themes. Sell you something Sunday will not be one.

Now Sunday snoozing may be a little accurate for some. I don't know if it is a Baptist thing, but, taking it easy on the Sabbath was taken seriously. I remember the raging debate when I was a kid about working on Sunday. Old blue laws were being repealed. Then the preacher got up and said if the Lord gives you a job on Sunday, thank him for the work. Being proud you had a job was the norm.

But I'll have to find a better one for Sunday. The Chihuahuas are particular about unflattering pictures. Besides, I got to get a hang of the hashtag thing.