Since Google+ is being terminated soon, I had to find a new location for the blog. Here's the tag:
https://medium.com/@vicf1950 I apologize for not having posted this sooner - duh!
Monday, March 4, 2019
Friday, March 1, 2019
The Writer's Life 3/1 - Words & Pictures
From foxnews.com, edited by yours truly: A Texas grandmother on vacation in Iceland had an interesting experience. She saw folks taking turns sitting on a beached iceberg shaped sort of like a throne. When she tried it herself a wave swept her out to sea. The coast guard rescued her. Here's a pic taken by her son:
From the NY Post, edited by YT: Here's another example of political correctness run amok. Responders to emergencies often have to deal with derelicts or drunks who spit at them. In one instance a worker was sprayed in the eye and nose and was subsequently ill for a month. Officials have found a solution - spit masks. Now some are worried that they will be deemed offensive, likened to KKK hoods by certain citizens. This is madness. Only a moron would be unable to differentiate an EMT from a Klansman. Here's a pic of one possible mask:
From foxnews.com, edited by YT: More insanity. A Bible carried by a POW in WWII was donated and displayed on the Missing Man Table memorial in Manchester, N.H.. The veteran's hospital exhibit honors MIA's and POW's. The book was removed when a group deemed it "intolerable" and "unconstitutional." It was then moved to a display - under glass, and the group filed another complaint, claiming it promotes one faith over others. To satisfy the self righteous, let's pretend some soldiers didn't carry Bibles. For the record, I'm not a believer.
The first March session of the floating book shop was a cold one. My thanks to the gentleman who did a swap of Russian books, and to the one who bought one of the new additions.
From the NY Post, edited by YT: Here's another example of political correctness run amok. Responders to emergencies often have to deal with derelicts or drunks who spit at them. In one instance a worker was sprayed in the eye and nose and was subsequently ill for a month. Officials have found a solution - spit masks. Now some are worried that they will be deemed offensive, likened to KKK hoods by certain citizens. This is madness. Only a moron would be unable to differentiate an EMT from a Klansman. Here's a pic of one possible mask:
From foxnews.com, edited by YT: More insanity. A Bible carried by a POW in WWII was donated and displayed on the Missing Man Table memorial in Manchester, N.H.. The veteran's hospital exhibit honors MIA's and POW's. The book was removed when a group deemed it "intolerable" and "unconstitutional." It was then moved to a display - under glass, and the group filed another complaint, claiming it promotes one faith over others. To satisfy the self righteous, let's pretend some soldiers didn't carry Bibles. For the record, I'm not a believer.
The first March session of the floating book shop was a cold one. My thanks to the gentleman who did a swap of Russian books, and to the one who bought one of the new additions.
My Amazon Author page: https://www.amazon.com/Vic-Fortezza/e/B002M4NLJE
Read Vic's Stories, free: http://fictionaut.com/users/vic-fortezza
Thursday, February 28, 2019
The Writer's Life 2/28 - A Prodigy, A Sensation, A House & Forteans
Struggling artists may not want to read this. The photo above is of two-year-old prodigy Lola June. Still in diapers, 37 of her works were exhibited at the Chashama gallery in Union Square. Twelve have sold, priced between $300 and $1600. She treats the paintings like her friends, kissing them when she wakes in the morning. She became distressed when they were taken for the exhibition but has recovered. Here are examples:
What was the top selling book in New York in 2018? Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, the second of the series. In Jersey it was the last, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. A decade after their debut, J.K. Rowlings' creations show signs of permanent staying power. Kudos.
A Las Vegas bomb shelter, built by an entrepreneur in the '70's, is on sale, asking price $18 million. Completely underground, it has a pool, spa, trees, guest house, BBQ and fountain. There are plenty of pics online. Here's one of the exterior:
I'm reading a collection of newspaper articles I will blog about when I'm done. In one piece I learned about Charles Hoy Fort, who passed away in 1932 at 57. An American writer and researcher, he specialized in anomalous phenomena. I don't recall if Fox Mulder mentioned him in The X-Files, and a search of that turned up nothing, which was surprising. Admirers refer to themselves as "Forteans." His books, all but one non-fiction, sold well and are still in print. The Book of the Damned (1919) influenced numerous science fiction writers. I hope a copy comes my way. According to the beliefs of the author I'm reading, such wishes have a way of coming true, and are part of the mystery of life, phenomena that should simply be accepted, not analyzed to death. There is an instance of it in my latest novel, Inside Out.
Yesterday my constant benefactress was surprised to find me selling books in the cold. I hadn't seen her in months. She asked if I'd be back today. I said yes, although I do not like to make a decision on location until the last moment this time of year. Of course, she didn't show, perhaps assuming I wouldn't be out in such cold. I regretted not having gone to Bay Parkway, where I would've stood in the sun and had the option of sitting in my car to warm up. Fortunately, it was one of those sessions when weather did not hamper sales. My thanks to Shelley, who bought six kids books for her three-year-old niece; and to the woman who purchased books on Zen gardening and cabinet making; and to the elderly Latina, who selected Hot Pursuit by Julie Ann Walker; and to the woman who hustled to the bank, returned and bought five books in Russian as I was closing shop. I also had visits from Nell, Marie and the Latina with bewitching eyes.
My Amazon Author page: https://www.amazon.com/Vic-Fortezza/e/B002M4NLJE
Read Vic's Stories, free: http://fictionaut.com/users/vic-fortezza
Wednesday, February 27, 2019
The Writer's Life 2/27 - Past & Present
The Ark Encounter is a life-sized giant replica of Noah’s Ark, built according to the dimensions given in the Bible. The family-friendly themed attraction near Cincinnati also features a zoo, zip lines, and restaurants.
Recently, the sister of a classmate of mine at St. Mary Mother of Jesus elementary school asked in a Facebook post if anyone had pictures of her brothers as young men. I posted one from the 1963 yearbook of our graduating class to her FB feed. It was the height of the baby boom. There were three eighth grade classes. Ours had 40 students. Since the photos came unglued over time, I assembled them into a whole. Here it is. I apologize for the poor quality:
And here's what I remember about each, starting from the top, going left to right:
Eleanor Pasquale - She was tall, and I think she had a crush on me.
Linda Noce - I've run into her within the past decade. She's had a rough life.
Teresa Mazzotta - Sorry to say I don't recall anything about her.
Concetta Chinni - had unbelievable dimples.
Frances Carino - considered the class beauty and was so nice.
Phyllis Pirotta - I had a crush on her at one time.
Carmen Ruggiero - Don't recall anything about her.
Stephen Orr - energetic, wrote "Hotsy Totsy you're a dirty Nazi" in my autograph book - and included a swastika. That would have gotten him into serious trouble today. I loved it and laughed.
Charlie Marchisotto - amiable.
Jimmy Saporito - last saw him in the '80s' as an opponent in softball. He is mentioned in my novel Present and Past.
Freddie "Bucky" Bucalo - the beating he took from Sister Grace on the first day of seventh grade is also mentioned in the aforementioned book. Great kid.
James Coffey - I believe his mom was the long-time traffic officer at the corner of 23rd Avenue and 85th Street. Everyone loved her.
Pete Cavallaro - great kid. His dad was KIA in Korea. P.S. 281 is named after him.
Richie Cupo - we were good friends at the time. My last recollection is of him carrying a large bottle of brew. He already had quite a beer belly in his 20's.
Helena Leavy - lovely Irish brogue. The way she pronounced "mortal sin" charmed us. Also mentioned in the novel.
Cathy Falcone - very amiable.
Donna DoCampo - from St. Mary's to high school, her demeanor seemed to change radically from light to darkness. I mentioned it to Linda, who seemed baffled by my observation of her good friend.
Kathleen De Fato - don't recall anything about her.
Ann Caratozzolo - ditto.
Theresa Yakoumakis - ditto.
Louise Verde - a very good student. Had the feeling she loathed me.
Paul Affuso - class valedictorian, scholarship to Xaverian H.S.. I ran into him at a wake. He became an NYU professor.
Tommy Mazzola - big kid, sweet nature.
Tommy Urso - a group of us spent a lot of time in the basement of his house. His mom was so sweet. His dad drove an "earl" truck, which I mention in another of my novels, Killing. He rose to the rank of Lieutenant in the NYPD.
Mario Ricchiuti - well-mannered. He's mentioned in Present and Past.
John Redden - reconnected with him on Facebook. Often posts his conservatives views and support of President Trump.
Charlie Ruggiero - nice kid. One of his relatives owned the house at the right-hand corner of Benson Avenue & Bay 37th, my block.
Joey Leoncavallo - the most popular kid in the class. Recently reconnected with him on Facebook. Retired from the NYFD, now selling real estate.
William Carrique - smart kid, very nice. No idea what became of him.
Benedetto Gentile - Where are you Benny? Great guy.
Ann Amato - Tommy Urso was madly in love with her and, as he told me at the reunion of the Lafayette class of '68, which a group of us from '67 crashed - she dumped him! Biggest mistake she ever made.
Susan Pezzela - good attitude. Haven't seen her since '63, nor heard of her. Dubbed Prudence Pots, a character in a TV commercial.
Mary Passaro - very nice girl. Haven't seen her since H.S..
Richie Semendoff - he's the one whose picture I sent his sister. Tall, good nature. I wonder if he's the only one to have passed away. RIP, sir.
John Califano - the class clown. His antics are on display in Present and Past.
John "Caggy" Caggiano - Another one I haven't seen since '63.
Yours truly.
Vinnie Manzo - loved baseball. His dad took us to a Mets' doubleheader at the Polo Grounds. Haven't seen him since graduation day, nor heard of him.
MIA - two of the tallest kids in class, Ronnie Tutino, who I used to meet at Saturday matinées at the Benson Theater; and Richie Finn, a goofball also mentioned in Present and Past.
I apologize if I've mis-tagged any of the female pics. Any corrections or info would be appreciated.
The owner of this car got just what he deserved when Californian firemen responded to a call:
As I set out on my morning walk I noticed that the most favorable parking spot in terms of the floating book shop was open, and I was lucky to get it. It was the only way I could have operated at my usual nook on such a cold day. I sat in the ol' Hyundai a couple of times to warm up, which enabled me to put a couple of hours into the endeavor. My thanks to the two women who each bought a book in Russian, and to the gentleman who purchased a Cambridge dictionary; and to the one who selected a book on influence and persuasion; and to the middle age man on a bike who delivered a three-book set in Russian; and to the young woman who donated a large bag of books, most of them young adult fare. I put the four most marketable on display and took the rest home.
Recently, the sister of a classmate of mine at St. Mary Mother of Jesus elementary school asked in a Facebook post if anyone had pictures of her brothers as young men. I posted one from the 1963 yearbook of our graduating class to her FB feed. It was the height of the baby boom. There were three eighth grade classes. Ours had 40 students. Since the photos came unglued over time, I assembled them into a whole. Here it is. I apologize for the poor quality:
And here's what I remember about each, starting from the top, going left to right:
Eleanor Pasquale - She was tall, and I think she had a crush on me.
Linda Noce - I've run into her within the past decade. She's had a rough life.
Teresa Mazzotta - Sorry to say I don't recall anything about her.
Concetta Chinni - had unbelievable dimples.
Frances Carino - considered the class beauty and was so nice.
Phyllis Pirotta - I had a crush on her at one time.
Carmen Ruggiero - Don't recall anything about her.
Stephen Orr - energetic, wrote "Hotsy Totsy you're a dirty Nazi" in my autograph book - and included a swastika. That would have gotten him into serious trouble today. I loved it and laughed.
Charlie Marchisotto - amiable.
Jimmy Saporito - last saw him in the '80s' as an opponent in softball. He is mentioned in my novel Present and Past.
Freddie "Bucky" Bucalo - the beating he took from Sister Grace on the first day of seventh grade is also mentioned in the aforementioned book. Great kid.
James Coffey - I believe his mom was the long-time traffic officer at the corner of 23rd Avenue and 85th Street. Everyone loved her.
Pete Cavallaro - great kid. His dad was KIA in Korea. P.S. 281 is named after him.
Richie Cupo - we were good friends at the time. My last recollection is of him carrying a large bottle of brew. He already had quite a beer belly in his 20's.
Helena Leavy - lovely Irish brogue. The way she pronounced "mortal sin" charmed us. Also mentioned in the novel.
Cathy Falcone - very amiable.
Donna DoCampo - from St. Mary's to high school, her demeanor seemed to change radically from light to darkness. I mentioned it to Linda, who seemed baffled by my observation of her good friend.
Kathleen De Fato - don't recall anything about her.
Ann Caratozzolo - ditto.
Theresa Yakoumakis - ditto.
Louise Verde - a very good student. Had the feeling she loathed me.
Paul Affuso - class valedictorian, scholarship to Xaverian H.S.. I ran into him at a wake. He became an NYU professor.
Tommy Mazzola - big kid, sweet nature.
Tommy Urso - a group of us spent a lot of time in the basement of his house. His mom was so sweet. His dad drove an "earl" truck, which I mention in another of my novels, Killing. He rose to the rank of Lieutenant in the NYPD.
Mario Ricchiuti - well-mannered. He's mentioned in Present and Past.
John Redden - reconnected with him on Facebook. Often posts his conservatives views and support of President Trump.
Charlie Ruggiero - nice kid. One of his relatives owned the house at the right-hand corner of Benson Avenue & Bay 37th, my block.
Joey Leoncavallo - the most popular kid in the class. Recently reconnected with him on Facebook. Retired from the NYFD, now selling real estate.
William Carrique - smart kid, very nice. No idea what became of him.
Benedetto Gentile - Where are you Benny? Great guy.
Ann Amato - Tommy Urso was madly in love with her and, as he told me at the reunion of the Lafayette class of '68, which a group of us from '67 crashed - she dumped him! Biggest mistake she ever made.
Susan Pezzela - good attitude. Haven't seen her since '63, nor heard of her. Dubbed Prudence Pots, a character in a TV commercial.
Mary Passaro - very nice girl. Haven't seen her since H.S..
Richie Semendoff - he's the one whose picture I sent his sister. Tall, good nature. I wonder if he's the only one to have passed away. RIP, sir.
John Califano - the class clown. His antics are on display in Present and Past.
John "Caggy" Caggiano - Another one I haven't seen since '63.
Yours truly.
Vinnie Manzo - loved baseball. His dad took us to a Mets' doubleheader at the Polo Grounds. Haven't seen him since graduation day, nor heard of him.
MIA - two of the tallest kids in class, Ronnie Tutino, who I used to meet at Saturday matinées at the Benson Theater; and Richie Finn, a goofball also mentioned in Present and Past.
I apologize if I've mis-tagged any of the female pics. Any corrections or info would be appreciated.
The owner of this car got just what he deserved when Californian firemen responded to a call:
As I set out on my morning walk I noticed that the most favorable parking spot in terms of the floating book shop was open, and I was lucky to get it. It was the only way I could have operated at my usual nook on such a cold day. I sat in the ol' Hyundai a couple of times to warm up, which enabled me to put a couple of hours into the endeavor. My thanks to the two women who each bought a book in Russian, and to the gentleman who purchased a Cambridge dictionary; and to the one who selected a book on influence and persuasion; and to the middle age man on a bike who delivered a three-book set in Russian; and to the young woman who donated a large bag of books, most of them young adult fare. I put the four most marketable on display and took the rest home.
My Amazon Author page: https://www.amazon.com/Vic-Fortezza/e/B002M4NLJE
Read Vic's Stories, free: http://fictionaut.com/users/vic-fortezza
Tuesday, February 26, 2019
The Writer's Life 2/26 - Within & Without
Dealing with a parent who shows signs of senility or Alzheimer's is very hard. In rare instances it is comical. Here's an excerpt, culled from real life, from the novel I will self publish early next year, tentative title Ulysses Too. The conversation may not have been exactly as it is written, but my mom actually spoke the oddity. We were speaking Italian, a tortured version of it on my part:
"I wonder if your sister’s home yet."
"Not for at least another hour."
"I thought I heard her talking just now."
"That was the people next door." We as loud to them? What must Petey and Denise think of Rige and Stooge fightin' all the time. They any different?
"You know, Frank Sinatra wants to marry me."
Vito burst into laughter.
Gotta laugh, sad as it is. Really funny sometimes.
"It’s true, I’m telling you." She was smiling herself. "He bought the house across the street. I saw him in the alley."
"He grew up in a neighborhood like this, but now he lives in palaces around the country. Why would he live on this block with all the money he has? And he’s married to a beautiful woman."
"I could swear it was him."
"Maybe you dreamed it."
"Maybe. I dreamed about your father before, poor man. He was standing right there in the doorway. It looked like he wanted to say something to me."
Last night at ten The Enemy Within premiered on NBC. It was a lively debut. It is the story of a former CIA operative who chose to betray her country to save her kidnapped daughter, a choice many would make. Three years later she is released from a maximum security prison to help catch the man responsible, who is orchestrating terrorist attacks in the USA. Although it looks like this will be an exciting series, there are drawbacks: it is yet another arc that may go on for years if the ratings are high; and it goes to obvious, annoying great pains in the cause of diversity. The villain seems to be a Russian gone rogue. I hope the creators do what those of 24 did so successfully - complete the story line at the end of the season and begin another the next. I'm not getting my hopes up. Here's the star of the show, Jennifer Carpenter, who also starred in Dexter and Limitless:
It was another glorious winter day. I basked in the brilliant sunshine in front of the Chase bank at Bay Parkway and 85th St.. My thanks to the woman who bought Ken Kesey's One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest, a book on Tai Chi, and a primer on Freud's theories on dreams; and to the woman who purchased The Velvet Hours by Alyson Richman and Behind Closed Doors by B. A. Paris; and to the woman who selected a book in Russian based on the Japanese figures on its cover. Her son is studying the language.
"I wonder if your sister’s home yet."
"Not for at least another hour."
"I thought I heard her talking just now."
"That was the people next door." We as loud to them? What must Petey and Denise think of Rige and Stooge fightin' all the time. They any different?
"You know, Frank Sinatra wants to marry me."
Vito burst into laughter.
Gotta laugh, sad as it is. Really funny sometimes.
"It’s true, I’m telling you." She was smiling herself. "He bought the house across the street. I saw him in the alley."
"He grew up in a neighborhood like this, but now he lives in palaces around the country. Why would he live on this block with all the money he has? And he’s married to a beautiful woman."
"I could swear it was him."
"Maybe you dreamed it."
"Maybe. I dreamed about your father before, poor man. He was standing right there in the doorway. It looked like he wanted to say something to me."
Last night at ten The Enemy Within premiered on NBC. It was a lively debut. It is the story of a former CIA operative who chose to betray her country to save her kidnapped daughter, a choice many would make. Three years later she is released from a maximum security prison to help catch the man responsible, who is orchestrating terrorist attacks in the USA. Although it looks like this will be an exciting series, there are drawbacks: it is yet another arc that may go on for years if the ratings are high; and it goes to obvious, annoying great pains in the cause of diversity. The villain seems to be a Russian gone rogue. I hope the creators do what those of 24 did so successfully - complete the story line at the end of the season and begin another the next. I'm not getting my hopes up. Here's the star of the show, Jennifer Carpenter, who also starred in Dexter and Limitless:
It was another glorious winter day. I basked in the brilliant sunshine in front of the Chase bank at Bay Parkway and 85th St.. My thanks to the woman who bought Ken Kesey's One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest, a book on Tai Chi, and a primer on Freud's theories on dreams; and to the woman who purchased The Velvet Hours by Alyson Richman and Behind Closed Doors by B. A. Paris; and to the woman who selected a book in Russian based on the Japanese figures on its cover. Her son is studying the language.
My Amazon Author page: https://www.amazon.com/Vic-Fortezza/e/B002M4NLJE
Read Vic's Stories, free: http://fictionaut.com/users/vic-fortezza
Monday, February 25, 2019
The Writer's Life 2/25 - Hacking
Born in the Soviet Union in 1970, Dimitry Samarov emigrated to the USA with his family in 1978. He earned a BFA in painting and printmaking at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago in 1993, and began driving a cab that same year. His work has been shown at several galleries. He created a blog in which he related his experiences driving in the windy city. Excerpts were published in several magazines. In 2011 the University of Chicago Press published a collection of his work, Hack, a copy of which was amongst a recent donation to the floating book shop. It details the trials and tribulations of the job, and the interesting cross section of humanity who commission rides. Although the passages are brief and well-written, I felt something was missing. I wish there'd been more of the following, which comes late in the book: "The holidays magnify all that one lacks, forcing one to brood over deficiencies and failures. The best thing is that they end and every-day life resumes, giving the world back the scale and focus necessary to keep getting by." This is a quick read, only 122 pages, far less given the many caricature-like drawings the author includes. The publisher spared no expense. It is a handsome edition available only in hardcover. 11 users at Amazon have rated Hack, forging to a consensus of four on a scale of five. I rate it three. It is still selling modestly. Samarov followed the book up with a paperback memoir in 2014. Here's one of his paintings, titled The Mess I've Made, oil on linen:
I've finished the preliminary sweep of the novel I intend to self-publish early next year. It is a stream of conscious portrait of a day in my life at the end of 1989. Most of the people's names have been changed. I made an exception of a few first names. I regret having changed any at all, as in some cases I was unable to recall who it was. That's what time will do, especially regarding those on the fringes of one's life. So many people passed through the Commodity Exchange, where most of the narrative takes place. I was hoping to cut some of the book, but was unable to find excess, although it is frequently repetitive, especially in the protagonist's sexual frustration. I was going to chop a short story that is included to a single paragraph, but I like it so much I'm leaving it intact. As of now it is 335 pages in 11-point font. There were times I thought: Do I really want people to know this? My thoughts are too often sexist, bigoted and homophobic. If this is exclusive to me, then the novel shouldn't be published. If it is universal, there's no problem. None of us can know the thoughts of others to anything but a minimal degree. I haven't been able to come up with a satisfying title. I thought it was going to American Ulysses, but that is so grand, especially since I know the book doesn't measure up to James Joyce's work intellectually. For a while I considered using Ulysses for Dummies, but that seems denigrating, and it might be a copyright violation. Since I like economy, A Day Inside the Head of a Brooklynite was out of the question. Right now it's Ulysses Too.
Given the forecast of 50 MPH gusts, I resisted the temptation of operating the book shop today. I had one last task to perform on the manuscript file. There will be about 50 references, not as many as there are in my rock n roll epic Rising Star, but plenty to sort through. One of the great features of Microsoft Word is "Find." I typed an asterisk into the box, and every instance of its use was listed. I'd inadvertently excluded several references from the list. When I was done I saved a copy of the file to my email account and to Google Docs. I will return to it on or about October 1st. I've never felt such a need for a break from my writing. Then again, I will be blogging practically every day. Fortunately, that isn't as intense as working on a book, although the word "work" does not adequately describe the process. It's more like intense play.
My Amazon Author page: https://www.amazon.com/Vic-Fortezza/e/B002M4NLJE
I've finished the preliminary sweep of the novel I intend to self-publish early next year. It is a stream of conscious portrait of a day in my life at the end of 1989. Most of the people's names have been changed. I made an exception of a few first names. I regret having changed any at all, as in some cases I was unable to recall who it was. That's what time will do, especially regarding those on the fringes of one's life. So many people passed through the Commodity Exchange, where most of the narrative takes place. I was hoping to cut some of the book, but was unable to find excess, although it is frequently repetitive, especially in the protagonist's sexual frustration. I was going to chop a short story that is included to a single paragraph, but I like it so much I'm leaving it intact. As of now it is 335 pages in 11-point font. There were times I thought: Do I really want people to know this? My thoughts are too often sexist, bigoted and homophobic. If this is exclusive to me, then the novel shouldn't be published. If it is universal, there's no problem. None of us can know the thoughts of others to anything but a minimal degree. I haven't been able to come up with a satisfying title. I thought it was going to American Ulysses, but that is so grand, especially since I know the book doesn't measure up to James Joyce's work intellectually. For a while I considered using Ulysses for Dummies, but that seems denigrating, and it might be a copyright violation. Since I like economy, A Day Inside the Head of a Brooklynite was out of the question. Right now it's Ulysses Too.
Given the forecast of 50 MPH gusts, I resisted the temptation of operating the book shop today. I had one last task to perform on the manuscript file. There will be about 50 references, not as many as there are in my rock n roll epic Rising Star, but plenty to sort through. One of the great features of Microsoft Word is "Find." I typed an asterisk into the box, and every instance of its use was listed. I'd inadvertently excluded several references from the list. When I was done I saved a copy of the file to my email account and to Google Docs. I will return to it on or about October 1st. I've never felt such a need for a break from my writing. Then again, I will be blogging practically every day. Fortunately, that isn't as intense as working on a book, although the word "work" does not adequately describe the process. It's more like intense play.
My Amazon Author page: https://www.amazon.com/Vic-Fortezza/e/B002M4NLJE
Read Vic's Stories, free: http://fictionaut.com/users/vic-fortezza
Sunday, February 24, 2019
The Writer's Life 2/24 - Mensches & More
From foxnews.com, edited by yours truly: In 2008 Taylor Wilson, then 14, garnered international recognition as the youngest person to achieve nuclear fusion in a reactor he'd built himself in his parents’ garage in Texarkana, Arkansas. Jackson Oswalt, 12, wanted to beat that record. He converted an old playroom in his Memphis home into a functioning lab. With the financial support of his parents, $8000 to $10,000 was spent on parts during the course of a year. Since there's no manual on building such a device, he relied on trial and error. On 1/19/'18, just before his 13th birthday, he achieved fusion, verified by a researcher. Scientists have yet to figure out how to use fusion in the creation of energy. Who knows - maybe Wilson and Oswalt will. Awesome, guys. Here's the new champ and his creation:
RIP Hollywood stalwart Stanley Donen, 94. IMDb lists 17 credits under his name as producer, 32 as director. He was a master of the musical, at the helm of one of tinsel town's greatest achievements - Singin' in the Rain (1952), which was overlooked at first and is now revered. He also brought Broadway to the silver screen: On the Town (1949), Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (1954), Damn Yankees (1958), and others. And he was not so snobbish as to resist working on an early music video, Lionel Richie's Dancing on the Ceiling. He also directed the classic thriller Charade (1963), starring Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn. Somehow he was never nominated for an Oscar. In 1998 the Academy atoned for the slight by bestowing a lifetime achievement award on him. Here's a quote attributed to him: "For me directing is like having sex: when it's good, it's very good; but when it's bad, it's still good." He married and divorced five times. The lovely Yvette Mimieux was one of his wives. Well done, sir. Thank you.
And in case you've forgotten or are unfamiliar with her, here is Mimieux:
In an article in today's NY Post, Larry Getlen introduces a new book: Worried?: Science investigates some of life's common concerns by Lise A. Johnson and Eric Chudler. The authors cite the dangers of alcohol, supplements, medical errors, flame retardants, antibiotics and the germs prevalent on mass transit. One stat leaped from the page: dog bites send 800,000 people to the doctor each year.
Although the rain ceased after ten AM, the forecast said there might be a possible shower until the system moved away. That led me to my usual nook under the scaffold on Avenue Z, where I enjoyed good luck. The woman I hoped would come along did, and she bought ten books in Russian. Spasibo, madam. My thanks also to the woman who purchased a book on make-up, and to the one who chose two puzzles for kids; and to Vitaly, who selected two "Who Dunnits?" He reads English much better than he speaks it, but that is one phrase he never forgets.
RIP Hollywood stalwart Stanley Donen, 94. IMDb lists 17 credits under his name as producer, 32 as director. He was a master of the musical, at the helm of one of tinsel town's greatest achievements - Singin' in the Rain (1952), which was overlooked at first and is now revered. He also brought Broadway to the silver screen: On the Town (1949), Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (1954), Damn Yankees (1958), and others. And he was not so snobbish as to resist working on an early music video, Lionel Richie's Dancing on the Ceiling. He also directed the classic thriller Charade (1963), starring Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn. Somehow he was never nominated for an Oscar. In 1998 the Academy atoned for the slight by bestowing a lifetime achievement award on him. Here's a quote attributed to him: "For me directing is like having sex: when it's good, it's very good; but when it's bad, it's still good." He married and divorced five times. The lovely Yvette Mimieux was one of his wives. Well done, sir. Thank you.
And in case you've forgotten or are unfamiliar with her, here is Mimieux:
In an article in today's NY Post, Larry Getlen introduces a new book: Worried?: Science investigates some of life's common concerns by Lise A. Johnson and Eric Chudler. The authors cite the dangers of alcohol, supplements, medical errors, flame retardants, antibiotics and the germs prevalent on mass transit. One stat leaped from the page: dog bites send 800,000 people to the doctor each year.
Although the rain ceased after ten AM, the forecast said there might be a possible shower until the system moved away. That led me to my usual nook under the scaffold on Avenue Z, where I enjoyed good luck. The woman I hoped would come along did, and she bought ten books in Russian. Spasibo, madam. My thanks also to the woman who purchased a book on make-up, and to the one who chose two puzzles for kids; and to Vitaly, who selected two "Who Dunnits?" He reads English much better than he speaks it, but that is one phrase he never forgets.
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