The Writer's Life 8/31 - Beyond

Deacdes, channel 2-2 through my TV antenna, runs The Best of Ed Sullivan Monday through Friday from ten to eleven PM. I check in when whatever show or movie I'm watching is in commercial. Much of it is comprised of musical artists. Most of the performances are good but exactly what one would expect. Occasionally it soars, such as Peggy Lee singing with the Righteous Brothers, a pairing I had no idea had ever occurred. Recently, a singer with whom I was unfamiliar, whose name I've forgotten, sang the Italian standard Al Di La, which was captioned at the bottom of the screen. Why isn't it one word? I wondered, having always assumed it was a woman's name. Curious, I googled it. The phrase actually translates to "beyond." The song is about the transformative power of love, not a specific person, which should have been obvious to me every time Connie Francis' soaring version came up on one of car CD's. My ignorance would surprise none of my family elders, almost all of whom are deceased. I always wanted to be what they referred to as "'merighan." Still do, but I appreciate Italian-American culture more than I ever have. At one time I shunned it, as if it were inferior. Just one of the many examples of the dumb know-it-all I once was. At least I hope I no longer am.

And this certainly looks like it's from beyond, recently caught and released off the shore of Maine:

Business at the floating book shop was much better in the extreme heat than it was today in the breezy cool. I sold only one book, but it was the kind of sale that made the session worthwhile despite the paltry return. When I asked a gentleman browser if he were looking for something in particular, he replied, in a heavy accent I assume was Russian, "Byron." I didn't have anything by Lord B, but I had a hunch he might be interested in another volume, an English translation of selected poems by Osip Mandelstam, a Polish Jew born in Warsaw in 1891 when it was part of the Russian Empire, who also wrote essays, one of which was critical of archfiend Joseph Stalin, who imprisoned the poet twice. Mandelstam died in a camp in Siberia in 1938 at 47. The potential customer's eyes spread as I showed him the book. "Where did you get this?" he said, thrilled. I told him people gave me books all the time and I had no idea what they would be. I laughed when, after he paid, he banged the hardcover copy against the rail of the scaffold to shake dust from it. Thank you, sir. 

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The Writer's Life 8/30 - Lone Stars

I just finished Lone Stars, Sophia Healy's first novel, copyright 1989, a third person account of shifting viewpoints. It is a portrait of a married couple living in San Antonio, he a Polish immigrant and unsuccessful artist who has a knack for trading stocks, she a Mexican immigrant 20 years his junior, whose first exhibition is about to take place. Their closest friends are also immigrants. The couple has agreed that the marriage should be open, modern in sexual activity. Will that hold up or will one of them suffer jealousy? That is essence of the narrative, which feels incomplete. Despite this, the book has several things going for it. The characters, including the circle of friends, are interesting; the author does well in showing how artists see the particulars of the world around them; and the blending of cultures is very cool. That said, the novel feels like an outline. Only 169 pages - much less given the many chapter breaks, it seems a lot is missing. And there is none of the confrontation that makes a work crackle. It remains on a single plain from start to finish. The writing occasionally soars, but, overall, I think it needed another draft, more polish. Despite the Bohemian values of the characters, the action is not explicit. Hardly anyone would be offended. No one has rated the book at Amazon. I usually render my opinion on books that have attracted less than ten reviews. I'm hesitant to here because I couldn't in good conscience give it more than two stars, and I would feel rotten doing that to a writer I'm sure put a lot of effort into her work. If there were other, good reviews there to mitigate my opinion, I would do it. It's odd that not a single one of her friends has posted a review. In the novel's favor, Atlantic Monthly Press, in business since 1917, thought enough of it to put it into print, so maybe it's me who fails to see its worth. Healy has published others books through the years, but none seem to have been any more successful than her first. She seems to be an artist first, writer second. According to her website, she has had exhibitions in Boston, Sao Paolo, Poughkeepsie and San Antonio, and hosted workshops in Vermont, Mexico and Brazil. Here's the cover of another of her works, which I like better than that of Lone Stars. I believe it is out of print. I don't know if she did the artwork:

Q: What did the pig say on the really hot day? A: I’m bacon. It’s so hot that chickens are laying omelets... that I saw a squirrel pick up a nut with pot holders... that a seat belt makes a pretty good branding iron... that cows are giving evaporated milk... that I saw a funeral procession pull into a Dairy Queen. Yesterday's heat had me looking up jokes on the subject. Last night at nine PM, sick of drinking water and seltzer, I decided to go to CVS for a yogurt drink. It was still hot! For the first time ever I had the fan running all night.

Conditions were 50% better under the scaffold today, the temperature lower and a fresh breeze blowing through the shade. My thanks to the woman who bought two books in Russian, and to Cabbie, who did a swap and buy of paperback thrillers; and to Marie, who donated five books, one of which I've begun to read. Special thanks to the gentleman who must have been told I'm a writer, who bought Five Cents as well as Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises. I asked what year he'd emigrated to the U.S.. He said 1990. I told him Five Cents takes place in the '70's and that he might not find it relevant, but he stuck with it. If he'd passed, I would have suggested he try Killing. He has bought much serious literature the past several years, a lot of it on Israel. 

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The Writer's Life 8/29 - The Wheel Comes Round

"What goes around comes around," was once a popular phrase. It immediately popped into my mind while reading an article in today's NY Post. Researchers at McMaster U. in Ontario have found that people who eat red meat and cheese live longer. Great news, but it will probably be refuted in the future. Meanwhile - enjoy.

Kudos to Red Sox slugger J.D. Martinez, who is standing by a 2013 pro-gun Instagram post featuring a picture of Hitler. Of course, it has drawn heat from busybodies. I've seen similar posts on Facebook. It's not praise but condemnation of Hitler and other tyrants such as Fidel Castro, whose tyranny Martinez's parents fled. Martinez said: "I love my country. I love this country. I stand by the Constitution and I stand by the Second Amendment..." Stay strong, sir. Here's the post the thin-skinned find offensive:

When a pro athlete gets busted it almost always involves drugs, guns or domestic violence. Cleveland Browns LB Mychal Kendricks has taken a different route. He's going down for insider trading. He made about $1.2 million trading ahead of four acquisition announcements. His partner in crime, Goldman Sachs employee Damilare Sonoiki, is being charged with receiving kickbacks, including Eagles tickets and cash bribes. Kendricks also arranged for Sonoiki to visit the set of a reality TV show. He spent the last six years with the Philadelphia Eagles and signed with the hapless Browns in the off-season, a one-year deal for $2,250,000. In his rookie campaign of 2012, the minimum salary was $390,000. He started in the Super Bowl and was credited with four tackles. What the hell was he thinking?

Manhattan residents and tourists had company yesterday - a swarm of bees. Here's a pic:

My thanks to Matt, a private school administrator, who bought Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder for Dummies, and to the woman who purchased a book in Russian. It was brutally hot. Fortunately, the heat is supposed to begin backing off overnight.

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The Writer's Life 8/28 - Back Stories

Born on the island nation of Dominica in 1890, Jean Rhys carved out an impressive literary career. There are 17 titles listed on her Wiki page, most of them fiction. Although she was of British descent, she was considered a white Creole. Her most famous work is Wide Sargasso Sea, a prequel to the Charlotte Bronte classic Jane Eyre. It provides the back story of the woman Rochester secreted in the attic. Like the author, the character's origins are in the islands. Published in 1966, it has cracked many top 100 lists and won the prestigious W.H. Smith Literary Award. It is reprinted regularly. There are six versions on Rhys' first Amazon page listing. I just finished it and found it unsatisfying, although I was not bored. I concluded that the protagonist was indeed mentally ill and not the victim of a plot by an avaricious husband. If that is correct, it seems to negate any feminist argument the author wishes to inject. The narrative also serves as an indictment of colonialism, which is valid, although the system is largely, perhaps entirely, a relic of the past and therefore only mildly interesting to people of the modern western world. The prose and dialogue are not easy. The 112 pages of the large paperback edition that came my way read like much more, the print small. I do not know why Rhys chose the title. The Sargasso Sea is part of the North Atlantic, distinguished from other parts by its characteristic brown Sargassum seaweed and often calm blue water. Perhaps it's a metaphor for what lies beneath. 280 users at Amazon have rated the novel, forging to a consensus of four on a scale of five. I fly in contrast to the praise, rating it two. Rhys, who seemed to live a Bohemian lifestyle and had her own mental health issues, passed away in 1979 at 88. Here's a pic of her as a young woman:

There's great news in the Fast Takes column in today's NY Post. Despite a rise of two billion in world population the past 25 years, poverty rates have fallen considerably. 138,000 escaped it daily during that span. Today 40% of the poor live in Nigeria and India. The latter has seen a 24% reduction but obviously still has a long way to go. Apparently, globalization is working.

In case you were wondering, there's an article in today's Post about which subway lines have seen the most complaints about masturbation: F - 60; No. 1 - 19; L - 17; A - 14; No. 7 - 11. Overall, there were 376 complaints, including violations in stations, throughout the system in 2017, up from 296 in 2016. Who will be the first player to hit the 400 mark?

I scored the most favorable parking spot this morning and it afforded the least toil possible for the floating book shop on this blazing hot day. My thanks to the elderly Latina who bought another thriller, Rage by Wilbur Smith, and to the middle age woman who purchased three works of non-fiction, on the Royal Family, the Carters and Christianity. What a relief it was to douse my head with cold water upon my return home. One more day of this nonsense.

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The Writer's Life 8/27 - The Play's the Thing

RIP Bronx-born Neil Simon, 91, the most successful playwright since Shakespeare. He wrote more than 30 plays and adapted most of them to the silver screen. He began by writing for TV, and won Emmys for his work with Sid Caesar and Phil Silvers. He then took Broadway by storm, creating farces audiences loved. He won the Tony for The Odd Couple in 1965, for Biloxi Blues in 1985, and for Lost in Yonkers in 1991, which also garnered him the Pulitzer Prize. He has more combined Oscar and Tony nominations than any other writer. Here are two wonderful quotes attributed to him: "When it's 100 in New York, it's 72 in Los Angeles. When it's 20 in New York, it's 72 in Los Angeles. However, there are six million interesting people in New York - and 72 in Los Angeles." And: "...To sit in a room alone for six or seven or ten hours, sharing the time with characters that you created, is sheer heaven. And if not heaven, it's at least an escape from hell." He may have passed away, but Oscar Madison and Felix Unger endure. Awesome, sir. Thank you. (Info from Wiki & IMDb)

Speaking of the immortal Bard - while watching Star Trek: The Next Generation last night, I got to wondering how many times Shakespeare is mentioned in the series. That was too much to ask, but I did come across a wonderful passage Sean Hall, a college student, wrote in 2002, from a paper titled ALL THE GALAXY'S A STAGE: SHAKESPEARE IN THE STAR TREK UNIVERSE: "Shakespeare and the science fiction series Star Trek have always been linked together in an almost symbiotic bond. Characters in the series quote the bard, episodes are titled after his works, and stories are adapted to fit the outer space locales. Captain Jean-Luc Picard (played by the noted Shakespearean actor Patrick Stewart) has a worn copy of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare handy. Alien species such as the Klingons quote Hamlet both in English and in their own fictional language. If Shakespeare is the foundation for modern theater, it is only fitting that he becomes the basis for drama in the future." Hall lists the following references to Shakespeare. It does not include the episode I viewed, The Perfect Mate, season 5, episode 21, starring the then young and bodacious Famke Janssen. Although the Bard was mentioned, I don't believe he was quoted directly - if memory serves:
STAR TREK (The Original Series 1966-1969)
Dagger of the Mind, reference to Macbeth.
The Conscience of the King - Hamlet. The episode involves a traveling troupe of Shakespearean actors.
All Our Yesterdays - Macbeth.
By Any Other Name - Romeo and Juliet. Kirk quotes: "That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet."
Whom Gods Destroy - Sonnet 18.
Elaan of Troyius - plot lifted straight from The Taming of the Shrew, Kirk as  Petruchio.
Catspaw - Macbeth.
STAR TREK: THE ANIMATED SERIES (1973-1975)
How Shaper Than A Serpent's Tooth - King Lear.
STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION (1987-1994)
Encounter at Farpoint - Picard quotes from Henry VI: "The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers" (IV.ii.74).
The Naked Now - Data recreates Shylock's court monologue from The Merchant of Venice, asking: "When you prick me do I not ... leak?"
Hide and Q - Q mistakenly quotes from As You Like It: "All the galaxy is a stage." Picard calls him on it. Later Picard quotes Hamlet: "What a piece of work is man! How noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god!" (II.ii.304-308).
The Defector - Data and Picard perform a scene from Henry V in the holodeck .
Sins of the Father - The Merchant of Venice.
Menage A Troi - Picard frequently quotes from the Sonnets and Othello.
Remember Me - Hamlet (I.v.112).
Time's Arrow Part II - Picard explains the away team's seemingly odd behavior, saying they're practicing a performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream. They later rehearse Act II Scene i with Riker as Oberon, Data as Puck and Beverly Crusher as First Fairy.
Thine Own Self - Polonius' advice in Hamlet.
Emergence - Data performs the final scene as Prospero. Much of the plot is taken from The Tempest, as well as character names.
STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE (1993-1999)
Past Prologue - The Tempest.
Heart of Stone - Twelfth Night.
Once More Into the Breach - Henry V.
The Dogs of War - Julius Caesar.
The Die is Cast - Julius Caesar: "The fault, dear Tain, is not in our stars but in ourselves..."
STAR TREK: VOYAGER (1995-2001)
Mortal Coil - Hamlet.
MOVIES
Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (1986). Dr. McCoy quotes Hamlet: "Angels and ministers of grace, defend us!" (I.iv.3).
Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country (1991) - title  from Hamlet (III.i.80). General Chang (Christopher Plummer) quotes Shakespeare: Romeo and Juliet (II.ii.184), Henry IV (III.ii.212), Richard II (III.ii.155-56), Henry V (III.i..1; III.i.32), Julius Caesar (III.ii.168; III.i.60; III.i.274), The Tempest (III.i..148), Merchant of Venice (III.i.56-63), and Hamlet (V.ii.10-11; I.iii.78; V.i..163; III.i.58-60; III.i.57). The character of Martia (Iman), a shapeshifter, quotes Hamlet: "I thought I would assume a pleasing shape" (II.ii.612).
Awesome work, Mr. Hall - A+. Thank you, sir. (Edited by yours truly)

Alright, kids, here's the latest trend in fancy nails:

My thanks to the gentleman who bought The Boleyn Inheritance by Philippa Gregory, and to the woman who purchased three large paperback novels focusing on female characters in WWII.

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The Writer's Life 8/26 - Oldies But Goodies

RIP Senator John McCain, 81, who spent his life in service to his country, and endured torture at the hands of one of its enemies.

After decades of enjoying Dion's The Wanderer, which was written by Ernie Maresca, who hit #6 on the Billboard chart in 1962 with Shout, Shout, (Knock Yourself Out), it finally occurred to me to look up the lyrics to see if I had them right. As I suspected, I was hearing a phrase incorrectly. What I thought it was is in parentheses: "Oh well I roam from town to town/I go through life without a care/'Til I'm as happy as a clown/With my two fists of iron (divine) and I'm going nowhere." Maresca, a Bronx boy, had an impressive career in the music industry, largely behind the scenes. He is one of the singers on the Regents' Barbara Ann, and he wrote several other hits for Dion: Donna the Prima Donna, Lovers Who Wander and Runaround Sue. He was also a record exec. He passed away in 2015 at 76. Here's a pic of the successful goombah:

As I was scanning with the remote control last night, I came upon an old musical with which I was completely unfamiliar, Career Girl (1944), starring Frances Langford, who I'm embarrassed to say I knew nothing about. She was known more for her singing than movie work. She has 34 titles under her name at IMDb, the most famous of which is a radio program, The Bickersons, in which she teamed with Don Ameche as one-half of a battling married couple. She toured with Bob Hope during WWII and the Korean War. Once, they were forced to leap out of a jeep to avoid fire from a German fighter plane. They jumped into a culvert, Langford landing on top of Hope. Another time they spent the night in the basement of a hotel in Algiers as bombs burst above them. She was invited to take a ride in a U.S. army fighter plane. During the flight over South Pacific islands, the pilot spotted a Japanese ship and strafed it. Langford sat "completely terrified" in the back seat. She wrote a weekly column titled Purple Heart Diary in which she described her USO visits to wounded soldiers in hospitals in the U.S. and overseas. She used the column to provide a "voice" for the soldiers, relaying their feelings and gripes to the general public. Here are two quotes attributed to her: "Entertaining the troops was the greatest thing in my life. We were there just to do our job, to help make them laugh and be happy if they could." And: "I'd sing a song, and I could just see the guys getting this faraway expression. I knew they were going home in their minds." Awesome, madam. She passed away in 2005 at 92. (Edited from her bio at IMDb by yours truly.) Here's a pic of the plucky Hollywood heroine:

My thanks to the lovely young woman who bought Red Queen by Victoria Aveyard, to the middle age one who chose The Last Detective: Dangerous Davies #1 by Leslie Thomas; to the elderly one who selected Legacy by Danielle Steel; and to Bad News Billy, who purchased five CD's. For a change he had good tidings to relate. His patent has been accepted. He now awaits interest in it. It's a device that makes roofing easier. Good luck, sir.
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The Writer's Life 8/25 - Art Imitates a Life

Now 82, Burt Reynolds has had a phenomenal Hollywood career. From 1978-1982 he was America's number one box office star. Part of his charm seemed to stem from an aura of not taking himself too seriously, of having fun on the job. Those parts of his persona and many more come to the fore in The Last Movie Star (2017), which I watched last night courtesy of Netflix. It's the story of Vic Edwards, whose bio is similar to Reynolds'. In fact, CGI is used in dream sequences where the star talks to characters he played as a young man, including Deliverance (1972). He attends a film festival in his honor in Nashville, not knowing it's a shoestring budget affair, albeit run by rabid fans. He is driven about in a beat up car owned by the neurotic sister of the festival's organizer, wonderfully played by Ariel Winter. Only 20, she already has 70 titles under her name at IMDb. She is a regular on Modern Family and, for the past five years, has done a voice-over on Sofia the First. She and Reynolds share excellent repartee. Her character had never heard of him prior to the festival. Disappointed by the threadbare affair, wary that he is the victim of a prank that will go viral, he begins to misbehave, drunkenly demeaning everyone present. Rather than attend the second day of screenings, he has his escort drive him to his home town, Knoxville, where he goes on a nostalgic jag that includes a meeting with his first wife, the love of his life, who is now in an old age home suffering from Alzheimer's. She is touchingly played by Kathleen Nolan, who co-starred as Walter Brennan's daughter on The Real McCoys way back in the day. Edwards fell prey to all the temptations that come with stardom, driving her away. Like many humans, he is dogged by regret, the feeling that he has done it all wrong. Although this is not a great film, it is one of those times when the predictable and sentimental work well. I wondered if it was Reynolds last hurrah, but a check of his credits reveals he has followed this effort with eight more titles, three still to be released. He remains in demand. This was my first encounter with the work of Adam Rifkin, who was at the helm and also wrote the screenplay. He has 24 credits directing, 24 writing, and 22 acting. How disappointed Reynolds and he must be that the flick has been virtually ignored. According to Box Office Mojo, it has brought in only $14,000 domestically, which suggests it was pulled shortly after its release. And there was no nomination for best actor. That's a shame. The Last Movie Star is a fine tribute to Reynolds that his fans would enjoy, although the viewer will suffer the sadness that no one, even the biggest star, is forever young. 1700+ users at IMDb have rated it, forging to a consensus of 6.4 on a scale of ten. Here is a still from the flick:

For the fourth straight session the floating book shop saw above average results. My thanks to the young man who bought I Am Malala: The Girl Who Stood Up for Education and Was Shot by the Taliban by Malala Yousafzai and Christina Lamb; and to the other who purchased a compilation of fiction about dogs; and to the woman who selected five novels, among them Danielle Steel's Wanderlust, Chaim Potok's My Name Is Asher Lev, and Harry Kemelman's Sunday the Rabbi Stayed Home.

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The Writer's Life 8/24 - Trolls

I've somehow gotten on the email list of websites of women trolls, probably through visits to a naughty site. A photo of a 20-something buxom babe accompanies each come on. The pics are not as explicit since a recent gmail update. For a while, none were getting through. Predators will eventually find a way to work around the latest security updates. I've never met any of the women or corresponded with any. I was amused that the missives separated when I copied them, the words breaking up, wide gaps between letters, as if the material was under copyright. I doubt anyone who responds ever scores. I suspect the stuff is designed to lure the gullible to use a credit card to gain access to a racy website, or maybe, once a link is clicked, to unleash a virus to search a user's PC for financial data. Surprisingly, many of the lures are not explicit. Those pictured may not even know their images are being used. The folks that run such sites are ruthless. Some of the women claim to have already been with the target of a note, which seems a really lame way to entice even the loneliest or most desperate man. What red-blooded guy wouldn't remember being in the presence of a young beauty? Here are messages I've received:
"I am looking for a hookup no strings attached. No emotions involved. Only the physical act alone. It's much simpler that way. No drama or games. If you're into discreet sexual encounters, let me know. I have a lot of free time, so scheduling a date won't be a problem."
"I know it's not very lady-like to be the one asking a man out on a date, but I simply don't care :) Would u like to go out with me Saturday night on a romantic dinner? It's my treat. Hope you say yes! If you’re up for it, here i am."
"Thinking about you day and night!! You completely managed to get into my system! It’s been a long time since our last meeting! Why don’t we arrange to meet real soon? Didn't you miss me? I can't wait!"
"My greatest accomplishment will be you if I can persuade you to be mine. There's nothing I want more than YOU, inside my bed, inside my..." Beeeeeep.

A brief story at Yahoo's Odd News led to this pic of a Wisconsin man who had opened the hood of his SUV and found something unusual. The owner, who is not the driver, claimed the python had been missing for two weeks.

It'd been a while since the floating book shop had enjoyed three straight above average sessions. My thanks to the kind folks who bought and donated books in English and Russian.

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The Writer's Life 8/23 - Personalities

It's no surprise that Michael Cohen has joined the list of reprobates who turn to GoFundMe.com. Nor is it surprising that yahoos pony up to support these slimes. GoEffYourselves.

Republicans are gaining hope that they can unseat New Jersey senator Bob Menendez. I'd love to see it, but it would be a huge upset. Residents almost always vote for corruption.

During the second half of my stay on the internet each evening, post shower, I have an itunes stream playing in the background. I alternate formats, one day standards, the next '50's-'60's oldies. Last night Joey Dee and the Starlighters' Peppermint Twist was aired, and it finally occurred to me to run a search on who does the lively lead guitar work on the track. I don't recall having heard of Billie Butler, but he had a fantastic career, several solo albums under his name, and session work for such greats as James Brown, King Curtis, Dizzy Gillespie, Johnny Hodges and Freddie King. He passed away at 66 in 1991. Belated kudos. (Facts from Wiki) Here's a pic:

On the other hand, I had no luck trying to find out the instrument that opens the Beach Boy's Sloop John B, one of the most beautifully produced pop songs of all-time. There's plenty of info on the track, which was adapted from a version by the Kingston Trio, who adapted it from a traditional folk song of the Bahamas, but nothing specific on the piercing intro - at least that I could find.

I know Dez Bryant is a jerk, but there are plenty of them in the NFL. Why doesn't this guy have a job? Is he maneuvering or are teams wary of his me-first act, which is in vogue throughout the league? I bet he signs with the Patriots and catches 100 passes - and finally gets to play in a Super Bowl.

It was a second straight stellar session of the floating book shop. My thanks to the woman who bought a huge pictorial on medieval art and two self help books, and to the gentleman who rolled up on his bike and purchased Jeffrey Deaver's The Twelfth Card; and to the woman who selected a romance in Russian; and to Cabbie and Rose, who each donated books. Special thanks to the guy who stocked up on thrillers in hard and soft cover, including two titles each by W.E.B. Griffin, Brad Thor and Dale Brown. They filled up the basket above the rear wheel of his bike.

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The Writer's Life 8/22 - The Swamp's Happy Day

So is this finally the beginning of the end for President Trump, the wet dream leftists crave? I'd thought so several times previously only to be happily surprised. Talk radio hosts Mark Simone, a personal friend of Trump's, and Sean Hannity are convinced the problems of Manafort and Cohen will affect the President only in the court of public opinion, not legally. If the swamp gets Trump, I still believe it will be because of financial matters, and the swamp almost always gets what it wants. As far as it looks now, collusion remains a hoax.

Photo by Phil Lanoue.

Here's a paragraph from Betsy McCaughey's op-ed piece in today's NY Post: "Of the overdose victims who land in an emergency room, 89% aren’t pain patients, according to JAMA – Internal Medicine. They’re younger than typical pain patients, and they’re overdosing on stolen pills and street opiates. Blame pushers, not doctors and drug companies." She says politicians have instituted hundreds of lawsuits against drug companies on this issue, and accuses the slimes of using the firms as cash cows. No surprise - that's what the swamp does. Painkillers have dramatically improved the quality of life of millions.

The Washington Nationals appear to have thrown in the towel on the 2018 season, letting two good players go yesterday. Too bad the entire the 500+ players in Congress won't be put on waivers and sent packing. Expected to win the eastern division easily, the Nats have shown no sign of breaking out of their mediocrity. Daniel Murphy, who bats lefty, should help the Cubs' so-so lineup, although his defense at second has become even more suspect since the knee surgery that sidelined him for the first two months of the season. I'm not at all familiar with OF Matt Adams, who the Cards picked up on waivers, but he does have 18 homers... Also in baseball: Here's a shout-out to Tampa Bay
left-handed pitcher Blake Snell, 25, who is having a breakout season. After last night's win he is 15-5 with a Pedro Martinez-like ERA of 2.07, phenomenal in a DH league. In 13 starts at home he has allowed one earned run or less, the longest such streak since 1913.

Here's a quote that seems uncannily precise: "I divide all readers into two classes: those who read to remember and those who read to forget." - William Lyon Phelps. I believe most of the reading public falls into the latter category, although many certainly cross lines. The quote is cool because it's not denigrating. Today's customers at the floating book shop were almost evenly divided. My thanks to the gentleman who got the ball rolling, buying a pictorial in French and a bio of E.E. Cummings. An elderly woman opted for two Catherine Coulter potboilers, and Maria selected Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre, as well as two Debbie Macomber romances and a Sarah McLachlan CD. An Atlantic Towers resident purchased my favorite Charles Dickens novel, Great Expectations, and an Asian gentleman chose Robert Ludlum's (TM) The Bourne Deception by Eric Van Lustbader. Special thanks to the woman who, as she has done so often, donated books in Russian. Only minutes earlier I'd allowed her to take a book as a token of thanks, and she returned bearing gifts.
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The Writer's Life 8/21 - Paralysis by Analysis

Here's an excerpt from my first novel, Close to the Edge. Although I didn't name the club in question in the book, it's based on the 2001 Disco, made famous by John Travolta and company. I was never inside. I needed a place for Vinnie, Kathy and Rocco to cross paths, so I went with it. The clip is a couple of minutes read:

    He stole a glance at the end of the bar. The young woman was still there, alone. There was a look of kindness, of amiability about her, although she seemed troubled. He wondered if it were possible for someone so lovely to be lonely. Boyfriend’s probably late, he told himself.
  “I see somethin’ I like,” said John, craning his neck.
  “Where?” said Vinnie, afraid it was the one he wanted.
  John motioned with his chin. “Down there. The redhead.”
  “Nice,” said Vinnie, nodding, relieved. Suddenly he recalled that John was married. He wondered how long it’d been since he’d seen Patty. Since high school? He experienced a sense of emptiness. He was fond of Patty, and here he was chippy-hunting with her husband, his presence sanctioning infidelity.
  “What about you?” said John.
  “I have one in mind, but I’m gonna wait a while.”
  “For what? Ya gotta move. You single guys got it made these days. All these chicks’re on the pill and abortion’s legal. Yous got nothin’ to worry about. Take advantage. Live. There’re guys here who’ll come on to every chick ‘til they score. Ya wait too long an’ somebody else’ll scoop ‘er up, I guarantee ya.”
  “I wouldn’t want her if she’s that easy.”
  “Are you crazy? Relax, for cricesake. She can only say no. It’ll take ya a secon’. Ya can’t take things pers’nally here. It’s all a big game. By the end of the night the leftovers’ll be lined up at the bar, beggin’ to be picked up. So what if she says no. Her shit stinks jus’ like everybody else’s.”
  “You’re right.” He knew, however, that he would not be indifferent to rejection. His heart would pound and his brain would threaten to burst. It was just the way he was. And it was a feeling so intense, so debilitating, that he would rather keep to himself than risk arousing it. He wanted to be absolutely sure of success before he approached a woman. And he did not want to approach any that did not conjure such dread. He wanted the situation to matter even if, in the end, it would have turned out to have been only about sex. And he wasn’t about to wait for the leftovers to insure sexual success. In his mind that would be failure.
  John downed the last of his beer and said: “Here I go.” And he was off.
  “Good luck.” Bad luck, Vinnie inwardly amended, recalling Patty.
  He turned his attention to his own interest. She smiled. She looked better to him at each successive glance. Her face was radiant, a brilliance pleasing to the eye, like the moon peering through a gathering of clouds. Her beauty was quiet when at rest but amplified considerably when she smiled. Dare he hope to capture such a prize? Beauty and the Beast is strictly a fairy tale, he told himself.

My thanks to the woman who bought two books in Russian, and to the other who purchased Ann Rice's The Witching Hour in hardcover, a huge weight off my hands.

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The Writer's Life 8/20 - Legacies

Born in Pennsylvania in 1907, James A. Michener had a fantastic run at the top of the best sellers list, creating epic historical fiction and a lot of non-fiction. It is estimated that 75 million copies of his books have sold worldwide. He served as a Naval historian during WWII and his experiences led to Tales of the South Pacific, which earned him a Pulitzer Prize in 1948. 15 of his works have been adapted to the big or small screen. He was a philanthropist, donating $100 million to various causes. He was involved in politics for a while as a Democrat, which I found surprising given his novel Legacy, which I just finished. It is the story of an Army Major, a member of the National Security Council embroiled in the Iran-Contra scandal during the Reagan administration. His work was on the Nicaraguan side of it, the fight against communism in Latin America. He is unrepentant. His lawyer wants to use family history as the basis for his defense. The Major's ancestors were present during the framing of the constitution and in the interpretation of it through the decades. Seven of his relatives are profiled in brief, separate chapters. Not all were on the right side of history, but all were good people. The novel spans only 176 pages, less given the breaks. It seems more like an outline, a planned epic the author didn't have time to complete. It is skimpy on the drama that makes fiction compelling, and the conclusion is completely unsatisfying. It doesn't answer the question it begs: Do noble intentions and a sterling family history exonerate one from actions deemed criminal by certain politicians and reporters? Most folks would probably answer no, but the narrative doesn't give the reader a chance to examine the case, which probably means it will be judged by the reader's political persuasion. The writing is as solid as one would expect from such a successful author. Only 14 users at Amazon have rated Legacy, forging to a consensus of 3.5 on a scale of five. I rate it two. It stands largely as a testament to the greatness of the Constitution, which is included in the paperback, as is an an excerpt of Michener's following book, Alaska. He passed passed away in 1987 at 90. This novel may have failed, but there is no doubt of the wonderful legacy he left.

And in a current political battle, where the mainstream media now showers love on a former CIA director who has had his security clearance revoked by President Trump, here's a headline from the July 31st 2014 issue of the Washington Post, followed by the concluding lines of the accompanying article:
"Obama should fire John Brennan"
"...But as Brennan said when he denied the allegations, “if I did something wrong…he is the one who can ask me to stay or to go.” It’s time for Obama to take that responsibility head-on and start to restore in U.S. intelligence agencies some semblance of responsibility to the Constitution and the public."
Brennan was accused of lying about the tapping of senate phones, and civilian casualties during drone strikes, which he claimed were zero. Whose legacy will be positive - Brennan's or Trump's?

From 6 p.m. Friday through midnight Sunday, at least 58 people were shot across Chicago. At least six of those victims died. What will Mayor Rahm Emanuel's legacy be?

My thanks to Bus Driver, who purchased three Catherine Coulter thrillers, and to the sweet elderly woman who bought a book in Russian. She had just suffered a fall two blocks away. Fortunately, her bag flew before her face, cushioning it. Her shoulder is sore. I suggested she take Tylenol. She said she'll spread cabbage leafs over the injured area, a remedy with which I was completely unfamiliar.

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The Writer's Life 8/19 - Survey Said

Here are interesting numbers from Michael Goodwin's op-ed piece in today's NY Post, edited slightly by yours truly: A Gallup/Knight Foundation survey of 1440 panelists earlier this year found adults estimating that “62% of the news they read in newspapers, see on television or hear on the radio is biased” and that 44% of news is inaccurate. Axios and SurveyMonkey polled nearly 4000 adults in June and found that 70% believe mainline news organizations report as news things “they know to be fake, false or purposely misleading.” Among Republicans and GOP-leaning independents, an astonishing 92% harbor that distrust, as do 53% of Democrats. A Gallup survey three years ago found that only 40% trusted the media; two years ago, the meter declined by eight points to 32%... Sadly, the numbers are not at all surprising. Goodwin concludes the media has no one to blame but itself. I agree.

It was a complete luck-out today for the floating book shop. The chance of rain seemed 100%, so I resisted the anal retentive urge to set up shop at my Sunday spot on Bay Parkway, and headed for my usual nook under the scaffold on Avenue Z. Sure enough, it rained for at least an hour, although not heavily enough to send me packing. Vadim and a female companion showed. He was carrying a music-playing device a little larger than one of those old Channel Master transistor radios. I was stunned at how clear the sound was. He spotted Exchanges and seemed impressed when I said I wrote it. He asked if I thought he'd like it. I said: "I have no idea." He bought it, anyway, and his companion opted for a book in Russian. My thanks, and also to the gentleman who bought a small, illustrated version of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes designed for children. It reminds me of the old Classic Comics. I chuckle whenever I recall how comic books spooked my mom. I guess they were too outrageous for her grounded sensibilities. Like many people, I rue not having saved my comics and baseball cards. I'm sure some of The Batman and Superman would have been valuable. Here's one I'm certain I bought back in the day when I was too lazy to read actual books and had no idea I would one day become a writer:

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The Writer's Life 8/18 - Light in the Dark

I consider Winston Churchill one of the great men of all-time, so the following may not be entirely objective. Last night, courtesy of Netflix, I watched Darkest Hour (2017), which covers events of May 1940, immediately after Neville Chamberlain's resignation as Prime Minister of England. The Nazis, at the height of their power, seemed unstoppable, gobbling up large swaths of Europe. 300,000 British troops have been pushed to the English Channel and face annihilation. Churchill must decide whether to negotiate with Hitler or fight, the latter a huge risk given Germany's superior forces and armaments. That awesome responsibility is the major crux of the film. He agonizes, fighting doubt. The arguments pro and con are intense. Those men were living history, not seeing it from the 20-20 hindsight of the viewer. Gary Oldman disappears into the part of Churchill, his performance the pinnacle of his spectacular career. Kudos to screenwriter Anthony McCarten for his even-handed rendering, showing the leader's foibles as well as strengths, and for leavening the narrative with bits of humor, almost all of it dry. Character development is intelligently built along the way. The brief scene with Churchill's four adult children reveals so much despite the sparse exchange. Three are clearly resentful, one is doting. And the depiction of Chamberlain, to whom history has not been kind, is humanized, not a caricature. He was simply wrong, naive, not a dolt. He is played wonderfully by the prolific Ronald Pickup, who has also brought to life Einstein, Nietzsche, Verdi and Lord Randolph Churchill, Winston's father. Kristen Scott Thomas brings her usual brilliance to the pivotal role of Clemmie Churchill, the great man's rock. Lily James is quite affecting as the secretary, and Australia's Ben Mendelsohn is solid as King George. As for the film's historical accuracy - liberties were taken. They are noted in an article at politifact.com. Only one aspect disappointed me, although I suspected it was poetic license and not fact. Nonetheless, it is a great sequence. Most of the other errors involve dates. For instance, the famous rousing speech to parliament and the country occurred on June 4th, not in May. The narrative also implies the 4000 troops Churchill sent to lure the enemy away from the evacuation at Dunkirk were wiped out. Most survived and were taken prisoner. In the end, the film belongs to Oldman. I got misty during the speech, which is often boiled down to: "...We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills. We shall never surrender..." Oldman received an Oscar for his performance. Joe Wright directed. He was also at the helm of these fine adaptations: Pride and Prejudice (2005), Atonement (2007) and Anna Karenina (2012). 108,000+ users at IMDb have rated Darkest Hour, forging to a consensus of 7.4 on a scale of ten, way too low in my opinion. It runs a tad more than two hours and consists almost entirely of dialogue. Here's a still from the film:

The humidity persists. My thanks to the young woman who purchased Wherever You Go, There You Are: Mindfulness Meditation In Everyday Life by Jon Kabat-Zinn, and to the middle age man who bought a book in Russian.

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The Writer's Life 8/17 - Words & Pics

16 nurses who work together in the intensive care unit at Banner Desert Medical Center in Mesa, Arizona are pregnant. "Calling Doctor Howard, Doctor Fine, Doctor Howard." Here are 12 of them:

From Yahoo Sports: One of those great oddities that occur in MLB's 162 game schedule happened last night in Arlington, Texas. Rangers teammates Jurickson Profar and Rougned Odor turned a triple play without retiring the batter, which hasn't happened since 1912 when the Brooklyn Dodgers did it against the Cincinnati Reds. With the bases loaded and no outs, 3B Profar short-hopped David Fletcher’s liner down the third-base line, stepped on the bag, tagged out Taylor Ward, who wandered off third base, and threw to Odor for a force-out at second. Many on and off the field were confused as to what went down. Here's video: https://sports.yahoo.com/rangers-turn-wild-triple-play-angels-hasnt-since-1912-144001447.html

There's a new book out for anyone who wants an alternative to what the mainstream media covers or ignores. One of the reasons why those who lose security clearance are so angry is that it costs them access to contractors who enrich them:

If this weather pattern holds through winter and the temperature regularly dips below freezing, there will be record snowfall in NYC. This conjures Mark Twain's great quote: "I knew a great many troubles in my life, but most of them never happened." May it be so.

My thanks to the middle age woman who got things going in the right direction by buying two paperbacks in Russian as I was setting up shop. Another soon came along and bought two tiny booklets, one on brothers and sisters, the other on Jewish spiritualism. Thanks also to Shelley, who selected QB VII by Leon Uris, and to the guy who bought a book in Russian. I had a nice laugh when a gentleman who yesterday bought From Beirut to Jerusalem - and thought it would occupy him for months - returned. As soon as he'd noticed it was by NY Times liberal columnist Thomas Friedman, he dumped it in the trash. Today he chose John Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath. My kind of man.

Here's a pic I took on the sly of a lovely young woman oblivious to all but the screen of her phone:

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The Writer's Life 8/16 - Dragon's Breath

RIP Aretha Franklin, 76, the "Queen of Soul," one of the most popular singers of all-time. Her 1967 recording of Respect remains a great listen to this day. She won a boatload of Grammys and was the first female elected to the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame. Well done, madam. Thank you.

I've wondered if the legalization of marijuana would have negative unintended consequences. Until today I hadn't read anything that suggested the consequences were anything but benign. A brief article in today's NY Post reports that more than three dozen people in New Haven overdosed on pot laced with fentanyl. A few of the cases were life-threatening, some of the people not responding to the anti-overdose drug Naloxone. I realize that the mix is vastly different from smoking regular ganja, but I wonder if the liberalization of society's attitude makes it easy for those who want to experiment further to rationalize their behavior.

Another article in the Post informs of an odd food trend. Suffolk County Long Island health officials are cracking down on businesses selling a confection called Dragon's Breath, which is made by dipping a cereal such as Fruit Loops into liquid nitrogen. Officials warn that it can cause frostbite, skin tissue damage and even suffocation. Why do people consume this? An article at lamag.com may have the answer: "Skewer the sweet and crunchy puff, toss one into your mouth, and you’ll start breathing out a cloud of smoke for a few seconds." Of course, this encourages selfies. Here's what the product looks like:

Although I'm in almost complete disagreement with the policies of NY Governor Andrew Cuomo, I don't believe he's stupid, even though he comes off as incredibly stiff, almost a dullard. Does he really believe he will be elected president by claiming America was never great? Good luck with that.

My thanks to the kind folks who bought, donated and swapped books on this hot afternoon, especially the young man who purchased Five Cents. 

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The Writer's Life 8/15 - Rigid Visions

Catalonia, a region in Northeast Spain, includes Barcelona. It was in the news in 2017 when it tried to become entirely independent. According to Wiki, 35% of the inhabitants speak Catalan, which evolved from the vulgar Latin of Roman conquerors. During his rule, fascist dictator Francisco Franco banned the language outside of people's homes. Upon his death, the restrictions were phased out, and the region recovered its autonomy. Salvador Dali and Joan Miro lived there, as well as Picasso during his childhood. Not surprisingly, there are Catalan authors. I'd never heard of any, so when The Time of the Doves by Merce Rodoreda came into my possession, I decided to give it a whirl. Set in Barcelona, it is a first person account of a woman from her late teens into middle age. It is dubbed "stream of conscious," but it's an infinitely easier read than James Joyce or Virginia Woolf. Since the protagonist is not a writer but an average person, the style is unpolished, the prose often repetitive and clumsy. In this instance the artist's rigid vision detracts from the overall effect. I faced this problem regarding what I believe is my best work, Killing, which I wanted to be completely uncompromising. It's first incarnation as an ebook featured dialogue that was 95% Brooklynese, which people found very difficult. I'm glad I eventually compromised. The dialogue is now approximately 50% Brooklynese and accessible to all. Back to the novel in question, a portrait of the bittersweet mystery of life, the frightening disconnect between individuals, even spouses and children. Unfortunately, I experienced a disconnect between the novel and me, although there were moments it almost won me. Fortunately, it is only 201 pages. The title refers to the husband's collection of birds. I suspect that aspect is a metaphor but I was unable to grasp the relationship between it and the lives of the characters. The Spanish Civil War, which took place 1936-'39, and which Franco's forces won, figures prominently, although the fighting is on the periphery. 25 users at Amazon have rated The Time..., forging to a consensus of 4.2 on a scale of five. Obviously, many of those folks connected with it. Published in 1962, it is still selling modestly, ranked 305,000th at a site that lists more than 13 million titles. In all, Rodoreda had 13 novels and four short story collections published. She passed away in 1983 at 74. Here's a pic of her relative to the protagonist of The Time of the Doves:

I wonder what percentage of white folks have uttered the N-word in their adult lives. I'm guilty. What percentage have thought it? I'd bet it's as high as the percentage of hip hop artists who use it.

Paris has installed new public urinals. Some natives are not pleased. Here's a pic:

A day without rain is like - really rare this summer. It was beautiful this afternoon, but it didn't help business any. My thanks to Michael, who bought another obscure paperback romance, and to the gentleman who purchased a CD the Mets put out, which features a mix of rock tracks and radio highlights of games. Special thanks to the woman who said I look younger and younger every time she sees me. How I wish it were true. 

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The Writer's Life 8/14 - A Great American Family

An article in today's NY Post sent me searching for more info on a great American family. Here are excerpts, edited by yours truly, from a piece at wfxl.com: Dominic and Victor Ragucci are the last survivors of an eleven-sibling Philadelphia family. Five brothers fought in WWII. Two died less than 90 days apart. Nicholas, killed in Italy in 1944, was brought home right after the war. Emil, who died in 1943, remained lost on the Central Pacific atoll of Tarawa, where more than 1000 Marines perished in a three-day battle. The family thought Emil's remains would never be found. He was 19 when he underwent basic training. A breakthrough came from the work of History Flight Inc., a nonprofit group of forensic anthropologists, archaeologists and other volunteers formed to help repatriate the remains of American soldiers missing in action. In 2013 they found what was labeled Cemetery 33, a small plot of land with a couple dozen sets of remains. The Department of Defense arranged to fly them to its forensic anthropology lab in Hawaii, and it was discovered that Emil Ragucci was among them. Kudos to that organization for giving survivors a bit of closure. Here's a picture of the young Marine:

And here are his parents, Carmela and Nicholas, and sister Mary:

Last week I filled out a will online at legalzoom.com. It arrived in the mail yesterday. Of course, there was a goof. I chose my youngest niece as executor. I used her maiden name - duh! Since that might invalidate the document, I will make the change. Fortunately, there is no charge if it is done within a month. There's another hitch. New York law requires that the will be notarized in front of two witnesses, and it can't anyone who will benefit from the will. Before I bother anyone, I will ask my bank rep if I can do it there. I suspected the process seemed to easy to be true.

My thanks to the woman who donated five books in Russian, and to Herbie, who handed me a large paperback; and to the retired super who pulled his SUV to the curb and gave me a hardcover on battling addiction. Wolf bought two books in Russian, one a bio of Landau, the father of the Soviet atomic bomb; another gentleman also purchased a book in that language; and a young man pounced on a hardcover version of Fyodor Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment, the novel that had the largest influence on yours truly, and which led directly to Close to the Edge. In the blurb I wrote: "Raskolnikov was sexless. These three are not." Thanks, folks. 

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The Writer's Life 8/13 - Supreme

Hail Brooks Koepka, who has won three of the past seven golf majors, including back-to-back U.S. Opens. He demonstrated nerves of steel in yesterday's two-shot victory at the PGA Championship. He shrugged off the gallery's raucous preference for Tiger Woods, and the fact that his excellence would be overshadowed by the media's and public's obsession with Woods. Not fair, but that's the way it is. All those white folks rooting for Woods in racist America - who'da thunk it? As for the Bellerive course, which is located in a suburb west of St. Louis, it is beautiful. Softened by rain, it was eminently playable, too easy. I enjoy it more when the final scores at a major tournament are around par. Still, Koepka was sensational. Kudos.

While the event was in commercial, I picked up the remote and paused when I hit The Bionic Woman on Cozi-TV. The lovely Lindsay Wagner was dressed as a gypsy. It was episode seven of season two. Within minutes, five Hollywood mainstays were on screen: Vincent Price, William Windom, Julie Newmar, Abe Vigoda and Hermione Baddeley. Loved it.

RIP Jim "The Anvil" Neidhart, 63, who succumbed to a medical emergency. He was a two-time WWE tag team champion alongside his brother-in-law, Hall of Famer Bret Hart. He was a record-setting shot-putter in high school in California, and had a brief stint in the NFL with the Dallas Cowboys and Oakland Raiders. Sad to see another pro wrestler die relatively young. Thanks for the laughs, sir.

The newsstand I patronize did not have the NY Post this morning. Two doors down a convenience store had copies that were weird, blank except for the banner and the word Supreme in the center of both the front and back page. The guy at the counter said it was five bucks. I put it back on the shelf. I just ran a search to see what was what. Supreme, which opened in 1994, has become a very popular street wear brand, famously selling out its new collections within hours and drawing huge lines at its flagship store in SoHo. The company has satellite shops in Los Angeles, Tokyo and London. It agreed to partner with the Post, whose chief anticipated the issue becoming a collector's item. In certain places it sold for $12 bucks. Include me out.

The floating book shop opened two hours late due to the rain. I'd snagged the optimum parking spot beside the scaffold at my usual nook as I was out for my morning walk, so I didn't have to worry about the wares getting wet if the skies again opened up. My thanks to Bus Driver, who bought two paperback thrillers; and to the woman who purchased a Danielle Steel translation in Russian; and to local barber Viktor, who selected a book on rare coins in Russian.

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The Writer's Life 8/12 - Angst

In her op-ed piece in today's NY Post, Selena Zito suggests the angst, the intense focus on special elections is misguided, as they "...don’t usually predict a party’s fate in the midterms. The Democrats lost all their special elections leading up to the 2006 midterms only to flip the House by 30 seats; four years later the Republicans lost all their special elections going into the 2010 midterms — and went on to trounce the Democrats by winning 63 seats back..." How cool that others research this stuff, allowing the rest of us short cuts so that we may pursue our interests outside the disenchanting arena of politics. Thank you, madam.

Also in the Post, here's how sports media critic Phil Mushnick concluded the main part of his column today: "...The players, team owners and Roger Goodell deserve one another. And as their product — their business — grows more insufferable by the season, they continue to pretend that they have nothing to worry about." Right on, sir. Kudos... There's an article at Yahoo Sports about Miami police wanting to boycott Dolphins' games because of the kneelers. I doubt politicians would allow it, but suppose many cops colluded in a sick-out?

Yesterday the chance of rain seemed 100%. Today it seemed 50-50, so I took a chance and set up shop on Bay Parkway, and things worked out much better than I'd expected. My thanks to the woman who bought a book in Russian, and to Bill Brown, author of Words and Guitar: A History of Lou Reed's Music, who purchased two CD's: Louis Armstrong Plays WC Handy and Duke Ellington's Blues in Orbit... Happy 79th birthday to Bob. As a gift, I let him select a book from the display, and he chose a bio of Samuel Beckett, master of the theater of the absurd. He was waiting - not for Godot - but for his son and grandkids to take him shopping. They're giving him a new Iphone... Now for the best part. A middle age couple has passed the floating book shop countless times. For several years neither said a word, then they began greeting me warmly. Today the man asked if I had any books on Biology or Archeology. I don't. Then he asked if I had anything on Italian-Americans. Most writers would be thrilled at such an opening to promote their work. I always think: Suppose he hates it? Fortunately I overcame the reluctance and he purchased Close to the Edge, the first and most downbeat of my novels. I was hoping he'd select Killing. My thanks. After that, I decided not to tempt fate and closed up shop, about an hour earlier than usual. It was pouring by the time I got to Sheepshead Bay and parked the car. Some days you just get lucky.
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The Writer's Life 8/11 - Oui

I love language, especially how it crosses borders and becomes understandable, if not commonly used in other countries. Most Americans are familiar with the most basic French, such as bonjour, merci, s'il vous plaît, au revoir, je ne sais quoi (my fave), merde. Last night, courtesy of Netflix, I watched The Assistant (2015), made in France. There were no subtitles. I went to the DVD's main menu and came up empty. I decided to let the flick run and see how much I could understand. After all, there was a chance it would be as good as anything I'd find on regular TV. The plot was easy to follow: a man driving his in-labor wife to the hospital during heavy rain hits and kills a young man who is jaywalking. He doesn't flee. He calls it in. Understandably, the victim's mom goes mad with grief. Nine years later she insinuates her way into the driver's life, becoming his secretary. He has no idea who she is. Is she up to no good? Director Cristophe Ali, in his third stint at the helm, chose a low key approach not unlike Alfred Hitchcock's most serious work. He collaborated on the screenplay with three others. I'm glad I stuck with it. Unfortunately, I cannot fairly report on its quality, given the language barrier. I was hoping the DVD had a flip side dubbed version, but it was not the case. 130 users at IMDb have rated it, forging to a consensus of 5.2 on a scale of ten. That seems too low but, again, I can't argue with it. Those who prefer gore would be disappointed. The accent is on quiet, creepy psychological horror. It runs less than 90 minutes. I was unfamiliar with the cast, although I recognized the name of the star, Nathalie Baye, who's been around for decades. She played DiCaprio's mom in Catch Me If You Can (2002) and was in Truffaut's ode to cinema Day for Night (1973). Here's a still that, since I know what occurs, gives me the willies:

Since the possibility of rain seemed 100%, I wouldn't dare set up shop on Bay Parkway today. After completing chores and lunch, I headed back to the neighborhood hoping to work at my usual nook under the scaffold. Alas, not a single convenient parking spot was vacated in the half-hour I waited. All was not lost, however. I've been putting off vacuuming for months. I have an Eloctrolux that must be 30 years old. I'd never used the attachments. Lacking an instructional booklet, I visited youtube for how-to video but, for once, came up empty. I'm not good at things mechanical, but I figured out how to hook the hose to the bottom of the machine. It involves a doohickey that has to be locked into place. This allowed me to get at dust that's been around so long it probably spawned children. Afterward, I still had time to fill, so I decided to experiment with my TV antenna, as the guy in the video at youtube suggested should be done every now and then. I'd fixed it to the top righthand corner of my third window. I tried the lower lefthand one and it brought in several more valuable channels, including Fox and Movies!. Although I didn't earn any money, it turned out to be a very good day.

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