Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/30 - Cliffhanger

I thank Jack of Chase Bank, who purchased five more thrillers today, and the gentleman who overpaid for We the People, a history of America's most important documents. "We need this now more than ever," he said. "You're not kiddin'," I replied. "Don't worry, we'll get 'em in November," he assured. I hope he's right. Confidence is not inspired when a Supreme Court justice described as a conservative takes liberal positions.
Here's some fun to lighten a dark mood - an excerpt from All Hallows, a screenplay. Ozzie is a retired sheriff recruited to help track down five nuts who have escaped an asylum. Romero is one of them.
Part 23: Ozzie in his pickup, cruising along an isolated two-lane road. From the opposite direction a lone head light appears. The knight roars past him. Ozzie veers onto the shoulder to turn the pickup around.
Ozzie: Didn't take long, did it?
As he turns and rolls forward, he sees the Harley turning in the distance. He parks on the shoulder, leaving the headlights on, shining in the direction of the Knight. He exits, shotgun in hand, and stands in the middle of the road. He focuses on the headlight and has a flashback to Korea, a flare lighting up the night, the Chinese attacking. He fires into the air. The Harley stops 50 yards ahead. The Knight raises his visor.
Romero: Friend or foe?
Ozzie: It's your call, son. Step off the bike and put your hands up.
Romero: Surrender? Me? Beware, sir. You do not know with whom it is you speak. I am sworn to defend the defenseless, right the wronged.
Ozzie lowers the gun, reflecting.
Ozzie: Are you the famous Don Quixote de la Mancha?
Romero: I am.
Ozzie: I'm Oswald, Prince of Bela. Come to my castle and break bread with me.
Romero: First swear that Dulcinea del Toboso is the flower of the world.
Ozzie: Why, she's the most beautiful woman I ever saw. Everybody says so.
The Knight beams.
Romero: I would be honored to share your table, sir. By chance, have you seen my squire, Sancho Panza?
Ozzie: He's dinin' with my wife this minute. He's been entertainin' us with fantastic tales of your deeds. Are they true?
Romero: Noble servant. Of course they are true.
He rolls forward a few feet, stops.
Romero: Wait. You're no prince. You're one of the infernal phantoms who plagues me. To arms, villain.
The Knight lowers his visor, then the lance, and revs the engine. Ozzie scrambles to the shoulder, positioning himself behind the pickup. As the Knight nears, Ozzie fires at the front wheel and sends the Harley into a spin. The Knight rolls off and tumbles into the ditch.
Ozzie: Damn fool.
He approaches the ditch, wary, and has a flashback of himself on night patrol in Korea. The Knight is lying on his back, apparently unconscious, his clothes even more shredded. Fresh, raw wounds abound. The helmet has a second dent. Suddenly be springs to a sitting position and swings the sheathed, bent samurai into Ozzie's knee. As Ozzie crumples, the shotgun goes off, tearing holes in the side of the Knight's thigh. The Knight cries out, swinging the sword reflexively, striking a glancing blow to the head of the falling Ozzie. The two lay dazed. The Knight is the first to stir. He sits up, crawls, and kneels beside Ozzie, who has rolled onto his back. Ozzie has a flashback of a Chinese soldier looking down on him from above a foxhole.
Romero: And now, worthy foe, according to the rules of knight errantry, I must have your head. Ozzie's vision is blurred.
Ozzie: You got your centuries all mixed up, son, just like I got my decades mixed up tonight. Romero: To whom shall I pay tribute in your honor?
Ozzie: To my good wife, Harriet Oswald, who deserved better. Sorry to leave you alone in this crazy world, sweetheart.
Romero: I will tell her how gallantly you fought and met death.
The Knight grasps the handle of the sword.
Ozzie: One more thing.
The Knight pauses, looks at Ozzie.
Ozzie: I hear that lady of yours looks like somethin' you'd hack up after a quart of rot gut.
Furious, the Knight pulls at the handle of the sword. The sheath is so misshapen, however, it will not yield.
Ozzie chuckles.
Ozzie: Oh, Lord - what a world.
The Knight whacks him on the head with the sheathed sword.
Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/28 - Evil

The nature of evil has been much debated. Is it innate or acquired? I don't think it really matters, although I believe a tiny percentage of the human race has a genetic disposition to it. Whatever the case, the evil must be stopped. In today's NY Post, Andrea Peyser's column focuses on the life of ease some murderers have behind bars. The article cited one miscreant in particular, Danny Robbie Hembree Jr., 50, who is on death row in North Carolina for the murder of a 17-year-old girl. He has admitted to killing two others. He recently wrote a letter to a local paper. Here are some excerpts:
"Is the public aware that I am a gentleman of leisure, watching color TV in the a/c, reading, taking naps at will, eating three well-balanced meals a day?"
"I am a man who is ready to except [sic] his unjust punishment and face God Almighty with a clear conscience unlike you cowards and your cowardly system."
"Is the public aware that the chances of my lawful murder taking place in the next 20 years if ever are very slim?"
"Kill me if you can, suckers. Ha! Ha! Ha!"
"I laugh at you self righteous clowns and I spit in the face of your so called justice system. The state of North Carolina has sentenced me to death but it's not real."
It's enough to make me rethink my opposition to the death penalty. I've always believed murderers should have the option of drinking hemlock if they tire of a life sentence. That seems preferable to execution. But if life in prison is as cushy as Hembree Jr. claims, what inmate would choose suicide? I know this has been said many times, but why do so many killers go by three names? Fortunately, these monsters are miniscule in number. Unfortunately, they walk among us, blending in until they leave too many clues.
Congratulations to the President on his health care victory, condolences to those of us who continue to fight against socialism. And to those who believe the law will control costs and improve delivery, I hope it covers having your head examined. Chief Justice John Roberts is said to be a conservative. If so, he becomes the latest to betray his base. George Bush spent like a liberal. Hopefully the nation won't go the way of Stockton, California, which is expected to file for bankruptcy by the end of the week.
My thanks to Mrs. Eclectic and her ten-year-old daughter, who purchased a bunch of books today.
Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/27 - Artists

RIP Nora Ephron, 71, a prolific writer who also had great success as a film director. She was eulogized in an op-ed piece by Jonathan Podhoretz in today's NY Post. Ephron wrote several screenplays, including Silkwood (1983) and When Harry Met Sally (1989), which featured the memorable fake orgasm scene so wonderfully rendered by Meg Ryan, and the great follow up line spoken by director Rob Reiner's mom, Estelle: "I'll have what she's having." She also wrote the best-selling comic novel Heartburn, which was based on her marriage to her second husband, philandering Watergate journalist Carl Bernstein. She wrote and directed the smash hit Sleepless in Seattle (1993), the most successful film ever by a woman at the time. She also issued several collections of essays. In her mid 40's she found marital happiness with her third husband, Nicholas Pileggi, who wrote Wise Guy, the book on which the film Goodfellas (1990) is based. She contributed a six-word biography to Larry Smith's collection: Not Quite What I Was Planning - "Secret to Life, Marry an Italian." Well done, madam.
Last night I watched another of the music tapes I made in '90's. It had its usual eclectic variety: pop, rock, swing, jazz, classical. Of the 30 or so performances, I enjoyed all but one: Smashing Pumpkins doing Bullet with Butterfly Wings on SNL. It seemed artless. White Zombie made two appearances, both from Letterman. They were so much fun. Springsteen did a riveting solo acoustic version of Angel Eyes at a Sinatra tribute. Alanis Morrisette let it all hang out on her breakout hit You Oughtta Know, which is so well-written I overlook the twisted logic of the line of her being more worthy of a guy's love because she went down on him in a theater. Then again, who among us hasn't been made crazy by love? The song raises rant to the level of art. Joan Osbourne did her big hit What If God Was One of Us? which is irresistible despite its likening the Almighty to a "slob like one of us," another in the long line of leftist rationales for bad behavior. Bon Jovi made two appearances from ABC's In Concert series: Hey, God and Wanted Dead or Alive. It came down to two choices in terms of which performance I would highlight: a breezy instrumental, L.A. Underground, featuring stellar guitar work by Larry Carlton and Lee Ritenhour or a rockin' rendition of Bach's Fugue in D Minor by Vanessa Mae on The Tonight Show. Mae is just to damn beautiful to pass up. She was only 17 at the time. Enjoy:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_QNn56OWqKY
My thanks to the kind folks who patronized the floating bookshop today, especially Lev, who overpaid for the eight books he bought.
Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/26 = Hard-Boiled

Sara Paretsky has written 17 novels. 15 feature intrepid female private eye V.I. Warshawski. I just finished the fifth in the series, Blood Shot (1988). I enjoyed it. The mystery was engaging from the start and the characters were well drawn, particularly the protagonist. While not as hard-boiled and cynical as Dashiell Hammett's Sam Spade or Raymond Chandler's Phillip Marlowe, V.I. is close. She is well-educated, an opera buff. I enjoyed the literary references sprinkled throughout the narrative. The writing was not as polished as I prefer, but that may have been intentional, as the story is a first person account in the words of someone who is not a writer. It may also have been due to my own carelessness. I read much faster than I should. Paretsky's work has been translated into 30 languages. On a scale of five, three-and-a-half. The character was brought to the silver screen in 1991 with Kathleen Turner in the title role, seemingly a great choice, but the film was not popular with critics or the public. I will add it to my Netflix list at the recommendation of an online reviewer who believes it is under-rated. Tami Hoag's A Thin Dark Line remains the best of the mysteries I've sampled. Daniel Silva and Joy Fielding impressed me the most in terms of polish.
I left the house for my morning walk at 6:15, in shorts and a T-shirt. I was shocked at how cool it was. When it came time for the floating bookshop I decided to bring a light jacket, just in case. I'm glad I did. The breeze was stiff and the sun was mostly obscured, most unusual for late June. A gentleman donated Alex Haley's Roots and Helen Keller's autobiography, which someone later bought. I also sold four novels in Russian. Thanks, folks.
Marie visited, carrying a couple of her paintings, which she had put up for sale at a show in Manhattan. She was asking $500 each. They were colorful, sort of landscapes, perhaps impressionistic. I didn't understand them and didn't know what to say. I hope I didn't bum her out more than she already seemed. She's such a nice lady and has been so generous to me. One doesn't have to be hard-boiled to be an artist, but it does take a tough skin.
Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/25 - Desire

Our weekly round of golf was cancelled due to the weather. It looked as though the floating bookshop would be as well when I left the house just after eleven. The sky was overcast. As I walked toward Avenue Z, I spotted a small patch of blue. I decided to give it a shot, hoping the system had a gap in it. It was the right move. No sooner had I set up than lovely young Alisa came walking my way. I don't see her too often these days, as she has moved to Park Slope. I assume she has found a man smart enough to take her in. I haven't asked, afraid the answer is yes. Unfortunately, she was in a hurry, as her sister was scheduled to fly to Hungary. She is of Russian decent, tall, beautiful and intelligent, a graduate of Stuyvesant High School, arguably the best in NYC. I kissed her cheek and gave her a hug. She was wearing a tank top from which her huge hooters were perilously close to escaping. I looked away from her fabulous cleavage as I felt a charge surge through me. The physical rush is rare in me these days. I suppose the mental will survive as long as my wits hold out. She said she had begun writing and that someone had stolen her work. It seemed so odd I didn't know what to say. Fortunately, I remembered to ask if she were on Facebook and if she'd mind if I sent her a friend request. She welcomed it. She has 741 friends. I have about 265. I find myself foolishly fantasizing about her. I'm 40 years older than her, for God's sake, but desire is merciless. I wonder if she doesn't realize the divide is that wide. Even so, a 30 or even 20 year difference is ridiculous. I'll let her lead. With all those friends, no doubt many of them male, she doesn't lack for companionship. Maybe she is simply looking for a mentor, a platonic relationship. What torture that would be. I'll leave it up to her.
I thank the kind folks who purchased books today before the rain returned. As I was hurriedly packing up, a young woman holding an open umbrella told me she loved novels and said she would return tomorrow. Herbie, one of my regulars, bought The Adventurers, the only Harold Robbins novel he hasn't read. He said the film version (1969) has one distinction, an Olivia DeHavilland nude scene. I was shocked and wondered if time was playing tricks on his memory, if he'd confused it with something else, so I ran a search on it. One reviewer called it the closest thing to a nude scene she'd ever done. DeHavilland was 50 at the time. Born in 1916, she is the only surviving cast member of Gone with the Wind (1939).
Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/24 - Beauty

Bryce Harper left high school after his sophomore year, immediately earned a GED, and set out on a path to major league baseball. The phenom spent 2010 at a junior college, putting up incredible stats. He was drafted number one overall by the Washington Nationals that same year and signed a seven year deal for 18.9 million. He was called up to the majors after the start of the 2012 season. When a reporter asked recently what his favorite beer was, Harper replied: "That's clown question, bro." The phrase went viral, used even by sleazeball senator Harry Reid. Showing that he is already a seasoned pro, Harper has applied to trademark the phrase. What a country!
While operating the floating bookshop yesterday on Bay Parkway, I was approached by the former owner of Angelo's Bakery, a neighborhood fixture until it closed a few years ago. Angelo owned a local pizzeria too. He is cleaning out his home, which has many books his children left behind. He later brought me a batch. Most of it was non-fiction and marketable. Grazie asai, signore. Today I sold two of those books, along with three VHS tapes, to Bad News Billy, who overpaid as usual. One of them was a pristine hardcover biography of one of the world's great beauties, Gina Lollobrigida. In fact, there were three copies of it still wrapped in their shipping plastic. She captivated me as a teen. She became adept at comedy, starring in naughty films with the likes of Rock Hudson and Peter Lawford. I still chuckle whenever I recall how she tore into circus owner Thomas Gomez in Trapeze (1956), as she tried to worm her way into a high-flyer act with Burt Lancaster and Tony Curtis. "Mascalsone, brutto...!" John Keats wrote: "A thing of beauty is a joy forever..." It certainly applies to my memories of Lollo.   Here's a pic that doesn't do her justice:

My thanks to Bad News Billy. He is quite the character. He found no parking spaces as he rolled up to use the Chase ATM. He parked blocking the driveway, putting a handicap placard and two pictures on the dashboard. As he was inside, curiosity got the better of me. One of the pictures was of the Reverend Martin Luther King Jr., the other of Coretta Scott King. I guess he hoped those iconic images would dissuade any black meter maid from giving him a ticket. I laughed out loud. Life is so rich.
I also had a visit from actor-singer extraordinaire Johnny Feets, who for the first time will be trying his hand at dance at a two-day run in Woodstock in about a month. He had kind words to say about A Hitch in Twilight, which he read recently. Thank you, Johnny Boy, and best of luck.
Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://membershttp://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/22 -

Congratulations to Lebron James and the Miami Heat. I think they are more likely to repeat than the Mavericks were. Even though it seems James has been around forever, he is still young. The key will likely be if Dwayne Wade's body holds up.
The political world provided more comedy yesterday, as former Black Panther and congressional candidate Charles Barron was endorsed by Ku Klux Klansman David Duke. The reason? Barron's animus toward Israel, which Duke shares. This once again proves bigotry is universal, not exclusive to a particular race.
There always seems to be a candidate for Bonehead of the Day in professional sports. That dubious honor falls to Mets' Hair-breath Harry closer Frank Francisco, who on the eve of the second round of this season's subway series has branded the Yankees "chickens" and promises to strike out the side. I first heard the Hair-breath Harry moniker used by long time Mets broadcaster Bob Murphy to describe the work of Tug McGraw, who in his early years put many batters on base and miraculously escaped the jams. Now seated at that great microphone in the sky, I don't imagine Murph is too pleased the orange and blue's current fireman, whose words and image fill the back page of the NY Post, has provided ammunition for the Yankees' blackboard. Then again, neither club needs any extra motivation to drub the other.
The floating book shop had a visit from Esther today. I said hi and unleashed the talking machine that she is. She went on for more than an hour about how hurt she is that both her brother and son owe her money. She went over her main points over and over and over again. "It's not the money," she said. I think she's lying to herself. Her husband, who passed away in February, left her a $40,000 life insurance policy she knew nothing about. She also gets his postman's pension. Her son owes her $4000. She didn't say how much her brother owes. Just as in the case of pro athletes, despite their statements to the contrary, it's almost always about the money.
Because of the humidity, this was the hottest day of the mini heat wave. My thanks to the young woman who purchased Jhumpa Lahiri's superbly written Unaccustomed Earth. Even though the thunder storm forced me to close early, it was welcomed relief.
Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://membershttp://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/18 - Hotter

I had a bit of an argument with Political Man today. When he found out I refuse to apply for food stamps he said I was: "Cutting off my nose to spite my face." He gets Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid and food stamps. He pays a ridiculously low price for his meds. All this although his boyfriend, in his own words, "has money." And he spends $500 a month on marijuana. At least that's his own money. He feels no compunction about spending other people's. He is baffled that I would choose to spend my own money rather than accept hand-outs. Will this country survive, let alone thrive, if the sense of entitlement becomes ingrained throughout the middle class? I tried to change the subject to music, citing an op-ed piece by George Will in today's NY Post that paid tribute to the Beach Boys, who PM has seen in concert 14 times and whose best albums he recently purchased on CD, but he insisted. He seemed shocked as he walked away. I guess he'd assumed I was a liberal.
How hot was it? I felt like I was wearing a hat, even though I wasn't. Although the temperature was higher than yesterday, there was at least a breeze to mitigate it, provided one stood in the shade. Business wasn't as good for the floating book shop, but at least I had three buyers, a few dollars I wouldn't have earned staying home. Alan refused the "Heat Wave Discount" I'd given to others. Thank you, sir. A couple of people commented on the sleeveless T-shirt I was wearing, a gift purchased long ago in the Dominican Republic by my mom's home attendant, Germania, who still sends me candy at Christmas and a card for my birthday. I miss trying to speak Spanish to her.
The hardest part of the session was having to move the car for Alternate Side. Fortunately, I found a spot a half block away and exited before I melted. It's supposed to be a little bit cooler tomorrow. That'd be nice, especially if the thunderstorms hold off until late afternoon. One woman who greets me every day said this was her favorite kind of weather. It takes all kinds to make a world, and we're all better off for it. Even someone like Political Man is valuable, as he shows us how not to live.
Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://membershttp://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/20 - Hot!

It's a good thing I didn't let the heat scare me into staying home. I wasn't expecting much action at the floating book shop, given the temperature. I brought along three psych books focusing on children, just in case Kofi, who works out of Coney Island Hospital, happened by. Sure enough, he did and bought them as he did a load two weeks ago. I then decided to give discounts to all who braved the heat to check out my wares. First up was a young woman who bought a couple of paperback mysteries. Then a young woman with a lovely islands' accent showed, and my spirits immediately buoyed. She is one of my favorite customers, as her taste is so eclectic. As usual, she selected variety in large bulk. Then Mikhail/Mr. Almost visited and found a Russian book to his liking. Finally, as I was packing up, a woman asked if I spoke Russian. She wound up taking two paperbacks, one a non-fiction account of KGB agents. Thanks, folks. Sometimes you just step in it. Dare I go out again tomorrow when it's supposed to go to 100? I'll sleep on it. I spent all the time in the shade of the apartment building, but it was still hot, as there was barely a breeze.
I believe Cole Porter is the greatest writer who ever lived. His lyrics are dazzling. Given the weather, I thought it'd be fun to post the words to Too Darn Hot, leaving out some of the repetition. My favorite rendition is the rockin' Ella Fitzgerald one on her Cole Porter Songbook collection. The song is from Kiss Me, Kate, which also features So in Love (favorite version by KD Lang) and Brush Up Your Shakespeare, an incredible comic tour de farce. Porter also wrote the music to his songs. He was too darn talented.
It's too darn hot! It's too darn hot!
I'd like to sup with my baby tonight,
Refill the cup with my baby tonight.
I'd like to sup with my baby tonight,
Refill the cup with my baby tonight,
But I ain't up to my baby tonight
'Cause it's too darn hot. 
I'd like to coo with my baby tonight,
And pitch the woo with my baby tonight.
I'd like to coo with my baby tonight,
And pitch the woo with my baby tonight.
But brother you fight my baby tonight
'Cause it's too darn hot.
According to the Kinsey Report ev'ry average man you know
Much prefers his love-y dove-y to court when the temperature is low,
But when the thermometer goes 'way up and the weather is sizzling hot,
Mister pants for romance is not.
'Cause it's too, too, too darn hot!
According to the Kinsey Report ev'ry average man you know
Much prefers his lovey dovey to court when the temperature is low
But when the thermometer goes 'way up and the weather is sizzling hot,
Mr. Gob for his squab, a marine for his queen, a G.I. for his cutie-pie is not
'Cause it's too, too, too darn hot!
After I put all the crates into the car, I made my way to Ali Baba's gyro truck. He was in the shade of Monica's drug store. I apologized for making him go back inside. As I stood near the window, I could feel the heat pouring out. It was like a furnace. Thanks, Ali.
Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://membershttp://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/19 - Heat

It's time for the network news broadcasts to go into panic mode - a heat wave is on the way. Expect updates and tips every few minutes. It's hot in the summer - who knew?
I get a lot of political emails from friends. While I enjoy them, I don't pass most on. I made an exception with the following. If there is a good counter argument to this, I'm not aware of it. I'm not against illegal immigration, but I am against illegals getting government services:
The owner of the Phoenix Suns Basketball team, Robert Sarver, came out strongly opposing Arizona's new immigration laws. Governor Jan Brewer released the following statement in response to Sarver's criticism: "What if the owners of the Suns discovered that hordes of people were sneaking into games without paying? What if they had a good idea who the gate-crashers are but the ushers and security personnel were not allowed to ask these folks to produce their ticket stubs, thus non-paying attendees couldn't be ejected. Furthermore, what if Suns' ownership was expected to provide those who sneaked in with complimentary eats and drink? And what if, on those days when a gate-crasher became ill or injured, the Suns had to provide free medical care and shelter?"
Touche. The email then listed many instances in which Americans had to produce photo ID. The only thing missing was a response from Sarver. That would have been interesting. Then again, such data is issued to win hearts and minds and influence the election, and there are often omissions and additions to the arguments. I have to say, though, that this one hit it out of the park.
I thank the kind folks who made purchases today at the floating book shop. I'm not expecting much the next two days, given the forecast. Then again, I've been surprised many times since I've begun selling books on the street.
Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://membershttp://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/18 - Chips

I slummed on the golf course today. I would have had a good time if not for faulty chipping. I was so inept I needed at least eight extra chips during the round. It was a long day. There was an outing at our usual haunt, Forest Park, so we headed over to Kissena, which is in beautiful condition, especially its greens. It's a short course, par 64, but charming. A lot of the holes have bizarre lay-outs. Second shots are almost always a short iron. We waited at least an hour to play and were paired with a nice Asian couple, Willie and Shirley. Of course, goofballs that Cuz and I are we couldn't help but whisper Leslie Nielsen's immortal line from Airplane: "And don't call me Shirley." She was a good player, hitting it short and sweet a lot of the time, starting out at the same tee as her hubby. Willie had a stellar front nine, making a number of pars. He would have had a shot at breaking 80 but left after nine holes. Shirley stayed. Cuz had his first good round of the year, shooting 83, keeping mistakes to a minimum and sinking several stroke-saving mid-range putts. I shot 88. I've always contended that 80 is the target at Kissena, 85 at Forest. Only a few years ago I would have been totally depressed by such a poor performance. I recorded my stats religiously at playerlink.com. I now try to keep it fun. So far I haven't exhibited any of the idiocy I let my past frustrations engender.
I hit rush hour traffic on the drive home. Fortunately, the Belt Parkway moved smoothly or I might still be out there. Cuz has met some interesting celebrities lately in his chauffeuring duties: Tony LaRussa, Nolan Ryan, Dan Rather and Debra Winger, who he said looked great. Surprisingly - at least to me, Rather was very nice, conversing the entire ride. I guess we shouldn't judge a person by his politics. 
Congratulations to Webb Simpson for his victory in the U.S. Open. While being interviewed by Bob Costas, Simpson said he at times was so nervous he had no feeling in his legs and pounded on them to restore it. Amazing. I'm not surprised. My golf rounds are meaningless in the grand scheme of things, and there have been moments on the course when the cheeks of my butt puckered like a clenched fist. Human beings are endlessly fascinating.

Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://membershttp://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/17 - Dad

Happy Father's Day to Dads everywhere. Here's an excerpt from the first short story I ever wrote, circa 1980. It's titled Rude Awakening:
Vito suddenly found himself wide awake. He was unable to recall having fallen asleep or dreaming or awakening. It seemed he'd just entered bed, yet a glance at the windows told him it was already the middle of the night.
The light in the kitchen sifted through the parlor, through the open door of his bedroom, in a dim, slanting ray. He heard his father's quiet rustling, and wondered how it ever could have awakened him. He was elated. It'd been days since he'd been awakened at this hour, and he'd experienced a sense of betrayal about it.
He lay still and listened, anticipating the gentle smack of a teaspoon against a raw egg and, seconds later, a sucking sound, as his father drained the gooey substance from the shell directly into his mouth. He shivered and clutched at his pillow, repressing his glee, lest he be heard, and did so again as his father worked at a second egg. He envisioned the dark head flying back in the downing of a shot of sweet vermouth, and heard the glass put down on the table. He conjured the scene so vividly he would swear he could smell the alcoholic substance. There was no mistaking the aroma of the espresso. It pervaded the four-room apartment. He wondered why its taste wasn't as wonderful as its scent. Just eight years old, his father's adult pleasures, so unlike his own, seemed strange and harsh. He detected the odor of a match and lit cigarette, which he hated. His father coughed. Vito worried about him. Smoking was another of the things he did not understand. He'd once sneaked a puff and felt as if he would choke to death, and vowed never to do it again. He'd tried to persuade his father to quit, without success.
It seemed a difficult way to start the day: rising long before daylight; eating a strange meal, which would be his only sustenance until midday when he would eat the sandwich his wife had prepared the night before; going out into the darkness, the sole passenger on the bus. Vito asked about these things constantly. He did not understand his father's passion for such a life. They cherished summer in separate ways - his father because he was free of the construction work he did during the cold months, and Vito because he was free of school.
Despite his youth, Vito knew he could not live such a life, no matter how he revered his father. Although quiet and shy, he enjoyed the company of people. His father's was a solitary life: up at 3AM, out to sea alone, in bed by 7PM, when Brooklyn's streets were just coming alive, about halfway through the last stickball game of the day. And his routine was not much different after summer. His lack of interest in others, in sports, puzzled Vito, who dreamed of becoming a major league baseball player. Vito loved America and was baffled by his parents' coolness toward it.
The light went out simultaneous with a flick of a switch. The apartment door was opened, then closed and locked. Vito listened to his father's progress down the hall stairs. He anticipated the squeak of the front door, which made him quiver. He was proud to be awake at this hour, proud he never tired of his father's routine. It made him feel grown up. He wished he was older so he could stay up late and not waste so much time in bed, awaiting the start of a new day.
With only the whir of the refrigerator for company, he soon fell asleep.
I opened the floating book shop two hours later than usual today and my lucky streak ended. I thank the woman who bought two novels in Russian.
U.S. Open golf in prime Time - yes!
Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://membershttp://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/16 - Beautiful People

Brett Easton Ellis burst onto the literary scene in 1985 at the tender age of 21 with his novel of immoral youths, Less Than Zero, which was adapted to film, starring Robert Downey Jr., two years later. In 1991 another novel, the violent American Psycho, caused a storm of controversy. It too was made into a film, starring Christian Bale. I did not read either of those books. I did see Less Than Zero, which I was unable to relate to, as the characters' lifestyle was so different from my own. Among a recent donation of books made by my friend Richie, who I coached at Lafayette H. S., was Ellis' Glamorama (1998). Not only did I not relate to any of the characters, I was puzzled by the mix of the surreal and real. I did not understand the meaning of the confetti and ice that was prevalent, nor the constant chill in indoor venues or the odor of feces. The novel must hold the all-time record for name-dropping and product placement. Some of the famous people mentioned, including Bale, have dialogue. The first part of the narrative details the life of a male model wannabe actor/restauranteur. It is not flattering. As I was reading, I kept hearing Marilyn Manson's rant The Beautiful People, which I've never heard in its entirety. Song lyrics are integral to the novel, oft quoted by the protagonist, whose goal is to be hip, cool, famous. About midway, the story evolves into one of ultra violence, and I had a hard time discerning what was real and surreal, part of a movie or documentary. Maybe I didn't read it carefully enough. The prose and dialogue were solid, bold. I especially admired the dearth of commas. Unfortunately, I found the work unsatisfying. Perhaps more intelligent readers will get it. Ellis did not use any footnotes crediting the artists whose lyrics were cited. I was under the impression that a writer had to get permission to do this, which I find infuriating, as it is free publicity. I wonder if Ellis knows all the artists whose works he mentioned, and was granted license. I have an unpublished novel, Rising Star, about a rock band on file in which each chapter begins with a lyric. What a relief it would be not to have to eliminate them all or have to get permission for their inclusion. They add a lot of color to the work. Anyway, since I didn't understand what Ellis was trying to say in Glamorama, I will forgo the usual one to five rating. 
How is a day with only one sale at the floating book shop a success? - when it is a copy of one of your own books. My thanks to Dennis, who purchased Killing. I also thank whoever (whomever?) bought it on Kindle. Since last Saturday I've had six street sales of my books and two at Amazon. How nice it would be if it was like this all the time. "Dream on," as Aerosmith would say.
Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://membershttp://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/15 - Winners

I finally got around to viewing Hugo, courtesy of Netflix. Martin Scorsese abandoned his cynicism for this ode to creativity. In great part it is a tribute to film pioneer Georges Melies, who made the oft shown short highlighted by the shot of a rocket ship flying into the eye of the man on the moon. The film's chief attributes are its cinematography (Robert Richardson) and visual effects, both which won Oscars. It was awarded five in all. It is as beautiful-looking as any movie you will ever see. The story, based on a children's book by Brian Selznick, The Invention of Hugo Cabret, adapted for the screen by John Logan, is conventional, appealing but not engrossing. The great Ben Kingsley plays Melies. Christopher Lee, Ray Winstone and Jude Law bring their huge talents to small parts. Sacha Baron Cohen moves out of the realm of satire and into the role of the rigid security agent of a Paris train station. The focus is on an orphan living on his own, played by Asa Butterfield, whose blue eyes are laser-like. He is ably assisted by young old pro Chloe Grace Moretz. On a scale of five, three-and-a-half. The folks at IMDb rate it 7.8 out of ten.
With so many teams in Major League Baseball, the results are becoming more unpredictable than ever. There is a fantastic story in New York. R. A. Dickey, a knuckleballer, has had a brilliant first half. He is 10-1, with an ERA of 2.20, 90 K's in 90 innings and only 66 hits allowed. He is 37. After several years of mediocrity at the major league level, he began experimenting with the knuckler as a member of the Texas Rangers. His first outing was a disaster, as he allowed six home runs, a dubious record he shares with another knuckleballer, Bill Wakefield. He bounced around several teams before landing with the Mets in 2010. Although he pitched very well his first two seasons, his record did not reflect it, as the team was bad and he did not receive a lot of run support. That is not the case this season. This has to be the Mets most cost-effective acquisition ever, and it must rival that of any in MLB history. Dickey studied English Lit at the University of Tennessee. He has co-written a book with Wayne Coffey: Wherever I Wind Up, My Quest for Truth, Authenticity and the Perfect Knuckleball. In 2011, inspired by the Hemingway short story The Snows of Kilimanjaro, he climbed the mountain, despite management's threat to not pay him if he were injured. He tied the event to a charitable angle highlighting human trafficking and raised $100,000. Let's hear it for Mr. Dickey.
I had a big win today too, as the percentages floated my way. Jenny, of Sicilian descent, had passed the floating book shop many times and never stopped, assuming I was selling only Russian books. When I told her Killing was about an Italian-American family in turmoil, she was hooked. Then she noticed A Hitch in Twilight and bought it too. Grazie asai, signorina, and thanks also to the other kind folks who bought books on this gorgeous (finally) day.
Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://membershttp://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/14 - Flag Day

It's Flag Day. Three cheers for the red, white and blue, and all for which it stands. May American continue to be the world's beacon. "Freedom is not the natural state of mankind. It is a rare and wonderful achievement." - Milton Friedman. We are blessed to be living here.


Here's a guy, like me, who made money on street corners.

Vinnie the Retard was a legend in our section of Brooklyn, hanging out at the corner of 86th Street & Bay Parkway, singing and strumming on his guitar, which had only two or three strings. Everybody in the neighborhood knew him and many put money in his pocket. He has passed away and is missed. It's amazing how often he comes up in conversation. He made his mark, despite his handicap. May he rest in peace. We should all be remembered so fondly.
Parking in Brooklyn is often frustrating. My first customer of the day happened to be leaving the lead spot on East 13th Street, the opposite side of tomorrow's Alternate Side regulation. He was nice enough to wait until I'd maneuvered my Hyundai into position. I parked inches from the crosswalk, taking up the least space possible. Minutes later the guy whose sporty red car was next in line approached and asked if I'd move mine back, as it made it look as if his was taking up two spaces, which it was. I told him to move up or back. He refused, saying his car would then be vulnerable to bumps from others fitting into the spot. I shrugged and said: "That's Brooklyn." It is amazing how inconsiderate some people can be. He wanted me to do something untoward so he wouldn't look bad.
Business was brisk at the floating book shop, especially the first hour. I thank everyone who bought. Brent, a regular customer who looks like a hipster artist, was passing with a huge laundry bag over his shoulder when he doubled back and purchased Brett Easton Ellis' Less Than Zero. Minutes later he returned, book open, on the way home. A half hour after that he again came walking by reading, absorbed. On his final pass, I spotted the novel near the top of the laundry bag. 
Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://membershttp://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/13 - Music

The other day a gentleman purchased a Linda Ronstadt compilation, donated by a friend, from the floating bookshop. He asked if I had other music, particularly classic rock. I don't have much on my PC, as my taste had begun to change before I began acquiring digitally. I didn't see the guy today. Here's the CD I burned during yesterday's rain. 59 minutes of fun:
1. Ramble On - Led Zeppelin ("...The autumn moon lights my way...")

2. Rock This Town - Stray Cats ("... Put a rock into that can, but all they played was disco, man...")

3. Bad to the Bone - George Thorogood & the Delaware Destroyers ("...I'm yours, pretty baby...")

4. Werewolves of London - Warren Zevon ("...Werewolf drinking a pina colada at Trader Vic's...")

5. A Day in the Life - the Beatles ("...I read the news today, oh boy...")

6. For What It's Worth - Buffalo Springfield ("...Paranoia strikes deep...")

7. Skating Away - Jethro Tull ("...Meanwhile back in the year one...")

8. Work To Do - Average White Band ("...I'm takin' care of business, woman, can't you see...")

9. LaGrange - ZZ Top ("...Gotta lotta mice girls...")

10. Room Full of Mirrors - Jimi Hendrix ("...the whole world was there for me to see...")

11. Panama - Van Halen ("...The road's running a little tonight...")

12. Hypnotized - Fleetwood Mac ("...Seems like a dream...")

13. Black - Pearl Jam ("...Everything I am, all I'll ever be...")

14. Black Magic Woman/Gypsy Queen - Santana ("...I need you so bad...")

The fun story in NY sports right now is the baseball team at Stony Brook University on Long Island, which has qualified for the College World Series, beating storied programs Miami (four national championships) and LSU (six) in the regionals. Congratulations and best of luck to the Seawolves and Coach Matt Senk. May the Cinderella dream be fulfilled. To give this accomplishment a bit of perspective, the Big Ten has not sent a team to the CWS since the mid 80's.

The dreary weather persists. I set the floating book shop up adjacent to the car today, just in case it rained. I felt a stray drop constantly. I thank the three people who bought. One, an old timer who has purchased many inspirational items, had been absent for quite a while. I feared the worst. Turns out he was visiting his homeland - India. I was out of religious literature, but he did buy Nicholas Sparks' True Believer. Welcome back, Sir.  
Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://membershttp://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/12 - Rain-Out Theater

The floating bookshop was open only an hour before the rain arrived. Before then, a Russian gentleman who visits once a month stocked up on thrillers. Spasibo, sir.
So it's time for Rain-Out Theater. Here's an excerpt from a short story titled Distinctions, which I wrote in the mid 80's after a raucous night on the town. It was my first full year in the bizarro world that was the commodities trading floor, my work place until November 2007:
I was unable to resist desert, pecan pie, although I was stuffed. I resolved to work out harder than usual tomorrow. When everyone had finished his coffee, Joey asked for the bill, which was more than $500. The others were surprised it wasn't greater. I was shocked, although I knew it would be a tax write-off. God bless America, I thought.
"How much would it take to get you to walk around the restaurant in your underwear?" said Bobby to Phil.
"I wouldn't do it in here," said Phil, blowing smoke over his head, sitting back, legs crossed, an arm around the chair beside him. "Gimme a hundred and I'll do it outside."
The same $75 was raised. I felt an acute resistance within me. I was sure Phil would do it, and I cringed at the thought of those who would be offended. And I didn't want to see him make a fool of himself, although he was eager to accept the challenge, to prove his superiority to the others, even at the lower rate. As I saw it, he knew he would never match them in wealth, education, or background, so his only recourse was brazenness. None of the others would dare parade about midtown in his underwear, none would ever match him in "sickness." I found it sad, although no malice was intended by anyone except, perhaps, Bobby. I was reminded of a short story wherein an unfaithful wife had her adoring husband masquerade as a fool at a party, where he suffered fatal realization. I doubted the present consequences would be as dire, however.
We left the place with great anticipation. As soon as we'd gathered outside, Phil began to strip, to the delight of everyone. The temperature was about 50 degrees this April night. Phil stood proudly in his briefs, black dress socks sagging about thin ankles. He held his arms out at his sides, inviting all to behold. "Am I sick or what?" he demanded. Everyone concurred.
"Look at those socks!" Bobby cried out, beside himself.
I stood apart, embarrassed yet amused as he accepted congratulatory high-fives. It was a harmless prank. I hoped the public would perceive it as such. Phil handed me his clothes, not trusting any of the others, and set off along 72nd Street, smiling, belly protruding and supported by spindly legs taking long strides. I laughed so hard I collapsed into a squat trying to draw breath, which was difficult on a bloated stomach. My vision blurred at the force of my mirth. Those he passed were amused rather than offended. And he did not go quietly into the good night. He talked up a storm, avoiding, however, eye contact with passersby.
Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://membershttp://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/11 - Free

In 1980 PBS broadcast Milton Friedman's landmark 10-part defense of capitalism, Free to Choose. Last night I caught a one-hour follow up, Free or Equal: A Personal View, examining the ideas to see if they are still relevant 30 years later. It was hosted by a Swede, Johan Norberg. It was great. Then again, it is reaffirmation of my beliefs. How wonderful that someone from a bastion of Socialism would create such a program. The original series can be viewed online. Run a search to see when the new one will air. The most compelling point was in reference to the cell phone, a product of the free market, which has done more to reduce global poverty than all the government programs in history combined.


RFK Jr. has continued the character assassination of his dead ex-wife, claiming she beat him. Why do I get the feeling he deserved it?
Just when the Mets seemed to have righted the ship, they have lost four of five, including a three-game sweep to the Skanks. All this has occurred since the introduction of their newest part-owner. Is it the curse of Bill Maher? Fans hope it will not last as long as the Curse of the Bambino, which plagued the Red Sox for 80-odd years after their owner sold Babe Ruth to finance a production of No, No Nanette, or the Curse of Billy the Goat, which Cub fans have been suffering since 1945 when a man who brought his pet to the game was ejected because others were offended by the animal's odor.
Finally - a Monday without rain, although the sunshine that was forecast was largely absent. Nonetheless, the weather was good enough for golf. For the first time in five weeks, Cuz and I hit the links, and our rustiness manifested itself. We both shot 96. I did have a birdie, though, sneaking a four-footer through the side door, my only one-putt of the day. I must have had five three putts and an equal number of bad chips. My ball-striking was good, surprisingly. I hope the weather on Mondays cooperates so we can get some sort of rhythm going. The floating book shop will reopen tomorrow, weather permitting. The dreariness is stubborn.

Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://membershttp://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/10 - Win, Win

Alfred Hitchcock said: "What is drama but life with the dull bits cut out." The works I appreciate most are those that get life right, the average Joe struggling to lead a good life in a world where temptation lurks at every turn. Most major American films are not interested in this. There are exceptions, of course. Win Win (2011) is one of them. I caught up to it last night courtesy of Netflix. It is the story of a small town lawyer who moonlights as a high school wrestling coach. His practice is suffering, his clients few. His family's bills are piling up. He does something unethical to make ends meet. No actor is more adept at capturing the average Joe than Paul Giamatti, and in this film he is supported by several TV, movie and Broadway stalwarts: Amy Ryan, Bobby Cannavalle, Jeffery Tambor and Burt Young. It does have one Hollywood-like aspect - a talented wrestler who falls into the coach's lap, but the script does not go the way of Rocky (1976) or The Karate Kid (1984). It is much more grounded and real. It was directed by Thomas McCarthy, who also wrote the screenplay. It was his third film. I did not enjoy his first, the critically acclaimed The Station Agent (2003). I liked his second, The Visitor (2007), although not nearly as much as I did Win Win. All three focus on human beings, not spectacular events, and for that he is to be applauded. On a scale of five, four. The folks at IMDb were a little less enthusiastic, rating it 7.3 out of ten.
Although sales have been rare on Bay Parkway on Sundays, as opposed to Saturdays for some bizarre reason, I returned today, box full of videotapes in tow, which I wanted to give Bad News Billy as thanks for taking a shot on Killing. He is one of the hold-outs still using VHS. He did not show, but others did. My thanks to Blanca and Joann, who each bought a copy of Killing, and to the other kind folks who bought books. And special thanks to Billy. If not for his kindness, I would have gone elsewhere today and missed out on those sales. "Karma, Kramer."

Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://membershttp://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/9 - Excerpt

My luck was on automatic pilot today. It started early, when I finally got around to checking my mailbox. The last of the survey checks I'd been expecting had arrived, so it was time to hit the bank. I was in the money even if I didn't sell a thing at the floating bookshop. Then, when I got home from the supermarket and did my weekly check of online stats, I saw that someone had purchased a hard copy of Killing at Amazon. Thanks, whoever you are. It seemed my luck had run out by mid day when I had to wait 40 minutes for a parking spot to open up, and then when it began sprinkling. I pulled the books under a tree and covered them in plastic, hoping the light rain would be brief. I saw blue in the distance. As I was waiting, Bad News Billy showed and asked if I had a copy of Killing with me, which he had me inscribe to his brother, an educator. Thanks, my friend, and also to the young white male who purchased all the religious books I displayed once the sun returned. Three of them were English/Spanish/Korean/Chinese versions of The New Testament.
Here's the first page-plus of an unpublished novel, Present and Past. At the time I was intrigued by how the past was always with us on a personal level. I also wanted to explore a character that believed in nothing but himself, and his contempt for goodness.

"Fred Canto?"
"Right here," said a tall, dark-haired, well-groomed man, ris­ing. He squeezed through the cramped space between the rows of seats, carefully lest he trample toes, inwardly amused at the irony, as the trampling of toes seemed what it was all about here.
"From the top."
He climbed onto the small stage, script in hand. The sleeves of his flannel shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing forearms of a wiry muscular definition. He had no idea how to tackle the part. He thought the writing weak, colorless. He sens­ed it was comedic, but wasn't sure. The actors who’d preceded him had shed no light on the subject, nor had any of those still awaiting a turn. He'd encountered many of them at previous audi­tions. None seemed comfortable, although he suspected some might have been playing dumb in order to gain an edge. He doubted the play would ever escape the tiny theater. He was kept in place by a shred of uncertainty as to its worth. He would hate himself if it turned out he'd turned his back on a work destined to become a cult classic. Besides, he'd been told by his teachers that any audition was valuable. In ten years, how­ever, he'd yet to grasp of what value they were. He was no more comfortable now than he’d been at his first open call, but he kept at it, determined to land a role, however insignificant, before he died.
"Okay, we'll call you," said the director, scanning his notes.
"Yeah," Freddie scoffed, louder than he would have liked. He paused, stunned at this rare loss of self control. He'd allowed his inner voice to betray his feelings. He was averse to showing emotion to people who weren't important to him. The director was staring at him. Freddie avoided eye contact. Several of the actors were covering their mouths, amused, pleased that a competitor had eliminated himself. How he hated them. He stifled the urge to protest. What good would it do? He'd given his best. If three minutes was all they would allow, why should he be upset? The hour he'd spent commuting, the two wait­ing, would have been passed in bed. He'd rather be up, doing. He didn't want to sleep his life away. There wasn't time enough any ­more. What difference did it make if he didn't earn a living as an actor? He still had his classes, where he performed the work of masters, not hacks. Fame didn't matter. It often had nothing to do with excellence.
Sour grapes, he told himself, hanging his head as he reached the exit.
Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://membershttp://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/8

Since I have such a small following, I post my blog at five different places, usually starting at Authorinfo.com. I just learned that I've been suspended there. I wonder if it is because of my political opinions, which tilt right. That seems odd, as most days I write about anything but politics, so disgusted am I by the process. I prefer to ruminate about life, the characters I meet while operating the floating bookshop, novels, movies, TV or music. It is especially weird in light of the fact that the webmaster asked to do a profile of me in his magazine, which hit a snag when I was unable to come up with any high res photographs of myself. I sent him a few that were not up to snuff. 20 years ago I would have be so excited by such a prospect. After so many dead ends, I simply shrug. I don't expect anything but to struggle to sell copies of my books on my own the rest of my life, and I'm fine with that. I won't even inquire as to what the problem is. Who knows - it may be something else.
The elderly Russian couple who still hold hands donated six books today. The woman, in her charming accent, calls the genre "dee-tec-teeve." I love it. It reminds me of how my mom and sister would pronounce words. I wound up selling all of them to two regulars, Lev and Mr. Almost/Mikhail. I also sold a bunch of others and received a small books donation from an elderly woman. Thanks, folks.
For the past several days I've neglected to pay tribute to Richard Dawson, 79, who passed away. He had an amazing television run, first as a regular on the WWII sitcom Hogan's Heroes, then as host of Family Feud. Rest in peace, sir, and thanks. All together now: "Survey says!"

Speaking of surveys, my thanks to mysurvey.com, which added ten bucks to my paypal account.
Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://membershttp://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/7 - Ray of Light

Ray Bradbury, 91, lived a productive life. He was the author of more than 500 works - short stories, novels, plays, TV scripts and screenplays. His most popular are The Martian Chronicles, Something Wicked This Way Comes, The Illustrated Man and Fahrenheit 451, all of which were adapted to the small or large screen. At present the latter seems to be his most enduring. The title refers to the temperature at which paper will burn. The novel is a cautionary tale, a portrait of a society so dumbed down it begins burning books. Fortunately, that hasn't happened, although in an op-ed piece in today's NY Post Michael A. Walsh likened such a purge to the PC mentality of busy bodies who would gut literary classics of terms and passages deemed offensive. Although I think they're fools, I believe the digital world will save books and free speech from disappearing. The internet is a marvel whose pluses far outweigh its minuses. Even an imagination as fertile as Bradbury's had not foreseen it. He did not go to college, an inspiration to all who did not attend. He taught himself his craft by reading the work of masters in public libraries. Well done, sir. Thank you. Rest in peace.
Just whose side is he on? Bill Clinton claims we are in recession and called for an extension of the Bush tax cuts, heresy to most Democrats. This just hours after he appeared at several NYC fundraisers with the President. One pundit - I don't remember who - suggested Slick Willie, in appearing with Obama, was receiving payment in the forgiveness of Hilary's campaign debt. Heaven forbid the Clintons should dig into their own millions to pay a marker. They are consummate politicians - and that is not a compliment.
The pattern continued - good day followed by slow day at the floating bookshop. My thanks to the gentleman who opted for non-fiction: William Manchester's portrait of General Douglas MacArthur, American Caesar, and a collection of essays by Murray Kempton; and the one who bought a couple of books for his daughter and an Anne Perry thriller for himself.
Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://membershttp://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/6 D-Day

The results of the Wisconsin recall election have to be encouraging for those of us who wish to see the tide toward socialism reversed. By a margin of 53 to 46%, voters decided to retain Governor Scott Walker, whose reforms seem to be working. It's great to see that a majority of citizens refuse to let unions bankrupt them. The most satisfying aspect of the event is the thought of how the left must be eating their collective hearts out. Donations and volunteers from around the country poured into the Badger state. Unions burned through millions, but will no doubt steal and shake down the weak to refill the coffers for future battles. Since Wisconsinites no longer have dues automatically deducted from their checks, many have abandoned their brothers and sisters. Membership is down drastically. It's always about the money. How refreshing to see that adults are in charge, at least temporarily. One discouraging note: exit polls show voters prefer Obama to Romney by a margin of 53 to 42%. Socialism has a strong foothold in this country that will not easily be reversed.
Today is the anniversary of D-Day. In a cemetery near what was dubbed Omaha Beach, there are 9387 Americans buried, a lot of them kids thousands of miles from home who gave their lives to preserve the freedom vital to mankind's happiness and prosperity. Thank you.
I continue to find it so ironic that President Obama's only real success is in the prosecution of the War on Terror. Guantanamo is still open and monsters are still being offed. Yesterday another Al Qaeda big shot, in Pakistan, was taken out by a drone. What happened to the war's protestors? Why aren't rock stars and film makers doing works titled "Kill List" or "Drone, Baby, Drone"? Several pundits have pointed out that the targeted assassinations eliminate the need to incarcerate those enemy combatants at the left's most hated prison. Continued success in this department, Mr. President.
There was a great cartoon by Sean Delonas on Page Six of the NY Post today. And here it is:

Moses dropped off a book donation that included several psychology texts. Minutes later Kofi, who works in the psych department at Coney Island Hospital, visited the floating bookshop and purchased all of them. Thank you, sirs, and to all the other kind folks who bought today.
Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://membershttp://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/5 - Grace

I was rooting around with the remote last night and stumbled into yet another great music documentary on a PBS station. I didn't think there were any significant artists from the early rock era I didn't at least know by name. Charlie Gracie (Graci) was born in Philadelphia in 1936. His dad encouraged him to play guitar, and he began winning talent contests in his early teens. In 1956 he was the first artist to sign with the fledgling home town Cameo label. He played the Brooklyn Paramount as part of an Alan Freed show, and appeared on Ed Sullivan and in the 1957 film Jamboree, which also featured Chuck Berry. His song Butterfly hit #5 on the Billboard charts, selling three million copies, ensuring the label's financial health. His follow up, Fabulous, hit #16. Two others cracked the Top 100. Cameo went on to issue hit records by Chubby Checker, Bobby Rydell, the Dovells, the Orlons and Dee Dee Sharp. Gracie sued the company for unpaid royalties, which hurt his career, as powerful forces prevented his subsequent work from getting radio play. He was undaunted, playing small venues, which he does to this day. He is loved in England and is a member of the British Rock n Roll Hall of Fame. He was the second Yank to bring rock n roll to the UK. He toured with, among others, Eddie Cochran (Summertime Blues, Come on, Everybody), who became a great friend and who, tragically, was killed in an accident at the age of 21. In viewing the piece, I was taken by Gracie's positive attitude, which he attributes to his family. He does not appear to harbor any bitterness. He has been married to the same woman for almost 50 years. In 2011 Al Kooper produced a new Gracie CD, For the Love of Charlie, which features guest appearances by Graham Nash, Peter Noone and others. Unfortunately, there are no clips from the doc on youtube, but an enterprising chap did record Gracie in concert banging out Boogie Woogie on his Guild guitar, the same he has been using throughout his career. Here's the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DqqqLtaerl4&feature=related  And here's a pic of the artist as a young man:

It was a quiet day at the floating book shop. I left with about 35 more books than when I'd arrived, courtesy of two donations. My car is crammed. It's beyond ridiculous. My thanks to the young man who purchased the pictorial on Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and the woman who bought the VHS of River Dance.
Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://membershttp://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/4 - Tears

Here's another money-making idea that will have most people wondering: Why didn't I think of that? Hoxton Street Monster Supplies, a cheeky store affiliated with the Ministry of Stories in the UK, has launched its newest product: salt made from human tears. According to the Monster Supplies website, the product "combines centuries-old craft with the freshest human tears, which are gently boiled, released into shallow crystallization tanks, then harvested by hand and finally rinsed in brine." The flavors/emotions include: Salt Made From Tears of Anger, Salt Made From Tears Shed While Chopping Onions, Salt Made From Tears Shed While Sneezing, Salt Made From Tears of Laughter, Salt Made From Tears of Sorrow. Expert tear harvester Halen Mon produced the salt with the help of Studio Weave. Is the product really made from actual tears? Know this - Halen Mon specializes in sea salt. The novelty salts are available for purchase online, but human tears don't come cheap. They range from $11 to $47. A portion of the sales supports the Ministry of Stories children's writing center. The satirical monster supply store, which makes fake products and sells them for charity, has many other options available beyond salt. I wonder if they can do anything with snot or phlegm.

After an off-season chock full of bad news, the Mets had an unbelievable weekend: Johan Santana's no-hitter, Johnny Franco's induction into the team's Hall of Fame, and three straight wins vs. the world champion Cardinals, vaulting them into a first place tie in the division. And now they've thrown all the positives away, announcing that Bill Maher (tears of a clown?) has become a part owner of the franchise. To me, this is as bad as when the team acquired slugging first baseman Carlos Delgado, who refused to stand for the National Anthem as a member of the Toronto Blue Jays. By the way, they lost today. Ugh!

Since it was raining, I went to Plan B: Russian books only at the viaduct on Avenue Z & East 15th. Fortunately, the rain stopped after a lonely hour-and-a-half, and I returned to my usual nook. By then, it seemed I'd missed any of my regulars. Then an old-timer who'd purchased a bunch of books last month appeared. He'd asked if I sold any music. I told him I sometimes burned best of Sinatra and Jazz CDs. I'd kept them in my glove compartment since then. We walked to my car, which was on the corner of East 13th, and I popped the discs into the player to show him the quality. He purchased them and five books. Dumb luck is the best luck of all (tears of joy). Thank you, sir.
Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://membershttp://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 6/3 - Hall of Fame

This is a great day for alumni of Lafayette High School. Tonight in pre-game ceremonies at Citi Field, one of our own, John Franco, will be inducted into the New York Mets Hall of Fame. Johnny Boy spent 21 years in the big leagues, 14 with the Amazin's. He recorded 424 saves, the most ever by a lefty, 276 as a Met, the most by any pitcher wearing the orange and blue. He also had 90 wins. I do not know John well, although I coached several of his contemporaries at our alma mater, but I knew his reputation. Johnny could very well have excelled on the gridiron, but he wisely chose to focus on baseball. There was a neat symmetry between the Redmen football and baseball teams in 1977. Dave, our QB, was the center fielder, Roger, our FB, was the catcher, and Danny, a DE/TE was the first baseman. It was a great group. We all hope that John will one day join our most famous alum, Sandy Koufax, in the MLB Hall of Fame. Way to go, Johnny Boy. You make us proud.

Last night I watched Cause for Alarm (1951), courtesy of Netflix. There were two notable aspects. Loretta Young was outstanding as the panic-stricken spouse of a mentally ill husband. Young is under-rated, rarely mentioned among her great contemporaries, Bette Davis, Joan Crawford, Barbara Stanwyck, and Katherine Hepburn. The film was directed by Tay Garnett, who did a lot of good work, particularly The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946), starring John Garfield and the bodacious Lana Turner. While researching the cast of Cause for Alarm at IMDb, I noted that Irving Bacon played the garrulous, complaining postman. One of my great joys working at the Exchange was discussing old movies with my friend and co-worker, Dougie. I remember him mentioning Bacon, and I, for once, was clueless. Bacon was a true chameleon, racking up an astonishing 523 film and TV appearances in a career that spanned from 1923-1965. He supplants George Chandler, who had a paltry 446, as the credits champion. Unbelievable. I wonder who else I've overlooked.
I thank the customers who purchased books today on 24th Avenue & 86th Street, outside the Dolphin Gym, which is owned by another kid I coached, Andrew, who also graduated in the same class as John Franco and earned a football scholarship to Rutgers. Love those guys.
Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://membershttp://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f