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