Southern Scotch

Southern Scotch

Thursday, October 19, 2017

You and the Miracle of Your Third Draft

Some call the first draft the vomit phase.



Others may see it as something like this:





In any case, the first goal is getting the words on the page, day by day. In good time, we meet that goal. And whatever hell we went through is soon to be forgotten when we start the second draft.


Do all writers go through such back-breaking work? Not all, but many. Perhaps even most. Here's a look at the great Nabokov conquering a second draft:


The work's as exhausting as digging a ditch with a teaspoon instead of a shovel. Simply clearing the vomit or shit off each page is enough to make a writer weep, howl at the moon or cry 'Never again!'

And the worst of it is this: no matter how greatly we improve the first draft, we're still nowhere near completion of a finished, professional work. Yes, we've pruned and edited, polished and filled in some blanks. And we've begun to see the outline of our book. But it's still just a sack of potential

The third draft, however, gives us the chance for a wonderful break from ditch-digging and drudgery. Now we get to put on our Architect hats. We can forget about Pretty or Perfect for now. Time to think of our narrative's structure...and where the structure may need reinforcements.




Here are some of the issues I'm tackling in the third draft of my WIP:
1) My book's divided into five acts. Are they roughly the same length and is my pacing on the mark?
2) My book contains shifts of POV. Do my two lead characters get close to the same stage time? And have I made it clear enough to readers at a glance to identify who's 'on' now?
3) Have my mystery's clues been fairly and effectively placed?
4) Have my characters done the detecting they should have done at all key points?
5) Have I brought my setting to life, buckshot-style, with just enough details as needed?
6) Have I succeeded on two fronts: launching a new spin-off series from my Boss MacTavin mysteries...and not giving readers the backstory blues?
7) Though this is a standalone series, is it completely consistent with the Boss MacTavin universe?
8) Can I do anything else to reinforce the novel's theme? Colors, imagery, weather, etc.


Now, with the clearance work you've done, is the perfectly natural time for such things. When they've been tackled, you're prepared for the delicate refinements of your fourth and final drafts.

If you don't believe in miracles, give this one a try.


Saturday, September 30, 2017

The Lost Art of Waking Up: a Pictorial

Somewhere along the line, we forget how to wake up refreshed and renewed. And instead we awaken like this:



 Correction: we wake up like that after hitting Snooze repeatedly:

.
Finally, we lumber up and stumble on in search of clothes and keys and everything we'll need--the most important of which we will always forget.

So, no matter what we wear...no matter what we don't forget...the message we send to the world will be this:



Okay, then. Let's take these as givens:
--Good diet
--Good health
---6-8 hours' sleep every night

If so, why would we need Snooze alarms? I have a theory about this. I don't claim that it's profound but it's been tested--and it works:



Our mindset when we go to bed determines our state in the morning. For better or worse, we continue where we left off the night before. And we'll continue for the worse if we retire in a negative or aimless state, I propose a three step plan to ensure that we wake for the better.





1) Eat lightly after 6 p.m.. Your last meal doesn't have to be what you see in the picture above. But keep it light, something easily digested.



2) That's right, meditate--in any position you like: sitting in a cozy chair or thinking while you stretch. Your meditation can be a review of the day: what went well or might have gone better. Review your blessings while you're at it. A positive 15-minute spiritual stretch will prepare you for a deeper and more restful sleep.


3) This is my own master key: a Kenneth Cole standing valet. My solution to maddening mornings spent looking for my keys, deciding what to wear and learning when I've left home that I've forgotten something. After my spiritual stretch, I set myself up for the morning--everything I'll need, from clothes to keys to change to my wallet, etc. I go to bed in a decisive state as well as a positive, calm one.

The process is a simple one. Whether you use it or one of your own, be true to it and you'll enjoy wht you've missed for far too long:



Saturday, September 16, 2017

Lies, Lies and More Damned Lies

I'm in a rare state of despair today because I've learned once again that ads are often jut cold, polished lies.



My state began a while back when learning that the bottled water on which I'd been spending so much of my money was actually just tap water. The story's here, if you care to look. But you've probably already had doubts of your own.

http://www.collective-evolution.com/2016/01/25/pepsico-finally-comes-clean-and-admits-the-truth-about-their-bottled-water/

True, none of us could have expected that our designer tap water might actually threaten our health--with something like...oh, say...a tapeworm:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J7mNTpRB9F0

Still, life went on. My despair ebbed as I started watching closely, and more closely still, the food I put into my body. I eyed the labels like a hawk, on the watch for sugar in any form, preservatives, etc.

But I read a story this week that rocked my boat and should rock yours. Whether you're a Vegan, vegetarian or meat lover, the same question concerns us all: can we trust the labels or even the stores? Is 'organic' food really organic? Are 'cage-free' chickens actually cage-free? Are 'grass-fed' cows actually grass-fed? Is 'free range' actually so?

Here's one ad that sure sounds good, for yummy free range chickens:

http://www.maryschickens.com/


But:



'Direct Action Everywhere, whose mission is to create animal welfare-friendly cities and outlaw factory farming practices, visited a dozen Pitman farms and never once saw a chicken roaming outside. The group reported that it found no indications of outdoor living, such as feathers or fecal matter. Twenty-four hour surveillance cameras attached to six separate locations revealed no outdoor birds either, the activists said. Instead, chickens were packed shoulder-to-shoulder inside dusty sheds with degraded air quality, forced to challenge one another for access to food and water.'
--the intercept.com, 9/15/17


So free range may mean, Dasani-style, not cage-free.

And does cage-free actually mean anything better than factory farm?

For your consideration:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/theyre-being-eaten-alive-what-i-saw-in-a-cage_us_580a5aefe4b0b1bd89fdb1d0

I don't argue that you should be Vegan or that you shouldn't eat meat. But all of us should be empowered to make enlightened dietary decisions. And this is something we can't do if the labels lie.


“The industry is in bed with the government,” said (Wayne) Hsiung. “I’m a former securities lawyer. It’s similar to the financial industry. The USDA’s mission statement is to promote agriculture. You can’t promote the industry and guard against the industry’s abuses. It’s like trying to be a lawyer for both sides of a litigation.”





Sunday, September 3, 2017

A Hallelujah Change of Life

You know what it's like, there's just not enough time, not when you work 40 hours a week. And for much of my life I worked two jobs--60 hours or more, 7 days a week--while somehow making time to write.

In Seattle I cut down to one job, a relief. Even so, though, weekends were never enough. Half the weekend, generally, was spent recovering from work stress. 



I'd continued to write. In fact, I'd succeeded in putting on speed, close now to putting out one book a year. But I'd pretty much given up on having an actual life.

Until now. I quit my office job and took a position that offers: future transfer, if I like, to any major city in the country...good benefits...a physically challenging position that helps me stay in shape...discounts on the best and healthiest organic food...and:

a 4-day week, if I like.

I like--and I've arranged it.



Retirement may be wonderful for those who can afford it. For those of us who can't...yet...we should at least enjoy the rewards of a physically active job...nearly half the week off to ourselves...good medical benefits...and paid time off.

Finally, the second shift allows me to write seven days a week. So I'm a happy camper--with a train trip coming up in November.



Friday, August 18, 2017

Taking Out the Trash

Sometimes more courage goes into taking out the garbage than climbing Kilimanjaro.



You know the sort of trash I mean: from haunting regrets to lingering messes we made years ago, then allowed to remain.

Getting rid of the trash may prove tougher than lugging two bags to a dumpster. But, as I learned yesterday, the relief makes it well worth whatever it takes.

I had three messes I needed to clear from my life. And doing so took up a good part of my day: phone calls, emails, certified mail, running here and running there. At the end of the day I was lighter by three messes I'd come to accept as 'my life'. Lesson learned.

Taking out the trash may prove painful. Or costly. Or just difficult to do. We may need to write off a beloved old friend who no longer wants to be one. We may need to find a way to make peace with something we've done...or not done. We may need to take guilt, shame, envy or anger to the dump heap.

The price may be high but it's worth it. When the time is right, set aside a day for a test of your own.




Saturday, July 29, 2017

If Women Don't Look At Men's Shoes First, They Should

When's the last time you walked into a shoe store and found a clerk who knew his or her stuff...or even found a clerk at all?



While we're on the subject, when's the last time you regarded shoes as a top priority and were willing to hunt till you got the right pair, regardless of the cost?

A screaming purple pinkie toe last night straightened me out on the subject of shoes. My new job, you see, keeps me on my feet all day and I walk between 8-10 miles per shift. So, naturally, I jumped at the company's offer to provide a pair of slip-resistant work shoes from their mail order supplier. What size? Hell, I've been sold 11.5 or 12 size for all my adult life. So I ordered 12's, thinking that I could return them or slip in some insoles. Relief either way from the toe-pinching sneakers I'd bought for a song at Ross Dress For Less.

Smart women will avoid all men who buy mail order shoes and/or wear any shoe that doesn't fit.

Tell me about that! For a week I'd been wearing the poorly fitting but 'free' work shoes, in discomfort from the start. By last night, I could barely walk and came home to see that my right pinkie toe had turned to a dark purple bordering on black. The pinkie looked far worse than this and other toes too were afllicted with blisters.



My brain teemed with the worst panicky thoughts. Might I lose the toe...or foot? Would I lose my job if I took time off work? What if I needed a couple of weeks? Could I afford a first-rate, properly fitting pair of shoes--and where would I find them? In my experience, department stores were as useless as discount shoe outlets. 

Late night decisions: come morning, I'd call work, explain my situation and spend as much time as I needed to find my first real pair of quality shoes.

Bright and early, I called work, encouraged to take whatever time I needed. Next, Lady Google: I started by researching a store I'd passed by many times: The Walking Company. Their reviews were strong and I noted that they specialized in what they call custom orthotics: insoles tailored to an individual's foot size and walking patterns.

This store was my first, and last, stop. The prices were steeper than I'd hoped, but I let the sales clerk do his thing. He showed me several styles offering a wider 'shoe box' (front of the shoe), so that my toes wouldn't be pinched. Then he showed me how they size one's foot and pick the right orthotic, using a digital screening device. 

I tried the shoe on without the orthotic--then with. 


pinkie toes


Tomorrow I'll return to work, when the pinkie's toned down from purple to a paler shade of pink.

And this is good. But better still is the change in my outlook that came with the shoe. And here are the reasons I think that women should first check out a man's shoes:

1) Good shoes aren't accessories. They're fundamental reflections of a man's care and respect for his bod.
2) Good shoes aren't an extravagance. A man who buys and looks after the best is an enlightened pragmatist. For cheap shoes end up costing more in foot, knee or back pain...and eventually doctor's bills.
3) Good shoes are spirit as much as fashion statements. A solid, first-class, grounded look paves the way for a splash of color or a touch of whimsy elsewhere. 

So, I guess, in a way I need to thank the purple pinkie toe that filled my eyes with tears.

Sunday, July 16, 2017

My Broadway Debut

A bit later in my life I've had the good luck to go Broadway.



Now, Broadway can be anywhere and mine happens to be in Seattle. It can also be in almost any venue: from writing to acting to singing to driving a limo.

Broadway's where to become a great star you'd better damned well act like one from the moment your feet hit the ground. And my true debut on Broadway came about in an unusual way and in an unusual place I will call simply The Store.

Compared to The Store, any other job I've had has been at best Off-Broadway. And more than a few were Off-Off. But the lines in The Store are huge...the energy is dazzling...and the stakes are as high as the profits. On my first work day--after a pleasant, low-key orientation--I got the message loud and clear: I needed to learn quickly and was expected to work on my own within a week. I needed to move quickly and constantly strive to do more. The first two rites of passage were the three month and nine-month reviews.

I went home exhausted but with a solid checklist. Lessons that can apply to any form of Broadway

1) You are you what you pretend to be--so behave like a star to become one.
2) Move, speak and act calmly and decisively, no matter how flustered you feel.
3) Put a positive spin on everything. You don't feel exhausted, you're 'getting your legs'. You don't feel confused, you're working it out.
4) Never blame your age or inexperience for any shortcomings or slip-ups.
5) Over and over, with gusto, repeat these words: It's



Sunday, July 2, 2017

Calorie Stalking, Nate Miyaki and MyFitnessPal

There are those we've never met who change our lives forever. Currently ruling the roost for me is San Francisco fitness guru Nate Miyaki. Why? Good question. Two reasons:

1) Nate's book The 6-Pack Checklist is the best thing I've found on the subject:



Point by point, he tackles all the things you need to know in a slender book that's a model of both clarity and depth. You begin with a daily calorie deficit if you're looking to lose fat and weight...find the right balance for you between protein, carbs and natural fat...find the right feeding timeline for you to stagger your calories through the day and night, always staying in the black...and work out 2-3 times a week, adding cardio at the end of every session to keep your body from feeding on muscle, not fat.

I know. Your head is spinning, just thinking of  how you'll keep track of all that--after you've done all the necessary math: workout frequency/intensity...your daily calorie goal...the infernal ratios of protein to carbs to fat..




Me too? You betcha. Physically active since my twenties (but over-fond of the bottle back then)...I've had one fitness dream since my thirties: a lean-bean look with six-pack abs. I've come close several times, though always retaining a mini-roll I couldn't lose. More often, I've come closer than many. But always I've slipped and returned to the fold of big-armed but thick-waisted men tormented by dreams of that elusive six-pack.

I couldn't understand the math and lacked a sustainable diet. Thanks to Miyaki, I've now 'got' the math down and have a diet that works--even at 1870 calories daily (my deficit mode for now). But I had miserable memories of all the logs I've tried to keep--and they could fill a bookshelf! Sweat-stained workout logs, abandoned because of the effort of finding the right pages for last weight used and last number of reps. Diet logs abandoned because I had no idea of the fat/protein/carb content of my meals and snacks.

But I trusted Nate Miyaki, who walks the talk and also talks the walk.


Nate stood firm on the need to have a plan and to log our efforts daily. Log, at least, till we reach our goal and know in our blood and bones exactly what we're eating. This is done through daily practice and logging calorie counts. But this needn't be a log nightmare. He suggested a phone app that was new to me: MyFitnessPal.



And this baby has made all the difference. MFP knows the nutritional breakdown of nearly everything I eat: from a Kind snack bar to an Oikos Triple Zero yogurt to a veggie burger to a small /Caesar salad (no dressing). I receive kudos for wise protein or carb choices. Alerts for sugar (even fruit sugar) and fat warnings. Cardio calorie burns (this morning's 45 minute brisk walk) are deducted from my calorie goal. My walk, for example, up and down some San Francisco-style stairs, credited me with 220 calories.

When I think of how stupidly hard I've worked for too many years, I could weep. But because of all those failures, I do have it down in my blood and my bones:

--At least 80% of abdominal work is done or undone in the kitchen.
--10,00 crunches won't defeat daily scones or Oreos.
--Abs needn't be worked any harder or more often than any other muscle.
--Miyaki is right on the money with his 'inverted pyramid'. He turns the traditional big breakfast/medium lunch/salad for dinner approach on its head. And I knew from experience how miserable I always was starving myself every day after noon, avoiding dinners with family or friends. I eat mainly fruit in the mornings, enjoy a light lunch (a whole wheat pita veggiewich with an apple and some shredded carrots, an Oikos Triple Zero yogurt topped with some crushed walnuts)...and save the bulk of my calories. So far I've succeeded in always staying 300-500 calories under my limit.

                                                                      *****

          Enough about me, though. Let's talk about you. 

You may not want or need a 6-pack. You may recoil in horror from a daily cal count of 2000 or less. And I salute you if you do. At my age, I don't need the competition from scores of washboard-abbed young buck. Seriously, whatever your goal, you should still give this cat Nate Miyaki a look. He'll help you find the right diet for you and set you straight, in the most delightful way, about the great carb vs protein debate, among other things.

Miyaki's blog is a fun place to start:

http://natemiyaki.com/about-3/

And here's the book that got me into gear:

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B013SC4GOC


Sunday, June 18, 2017

On Missing The Naked Bike Race

For a moment I entertained a glum thought when asked if my weekend plans included a visit to Fremont. See, it's the Solstice weekend, including a parade and the Legendary Naked Bike Race.


And, hey, while I was there I could also visit one of Fremont's microbreweries or...

The idea of seeing a few hundred nudies on bikes doesn't really float my boat. And I no longer drink. But I entertained the glum thought nonetheless, thinking back on my more adventurous life years ago.

I hope adventures still await.  Along with a good deal more money. But once the glum thought took its leave, after a stern mental boot to its butt, I looked forward to the quieter adventures of this weekend:

--The continued fight against ageism as I attempt to change jobs before my office moves to Renton.
--The slow, demanding work of typing the first draft of my WIP.
--The scores of challenges involved in producing a spin-off from an established series.
--The daily task of staying true to a demanding new eating plan
--The weekly task of adhering to a rougher, more strategic workout regimen

I know, I know. That sounds boring to you. And, for all I know, it may well be.



But there are internal adventures, as challenging and thrilling, as climbing the Alps. Or engaging in a cage fight with a bruiser twice your size. Staying sober, getting thinner, completing a tricky new book...To my changed way of thinking, these are at least as cool and worthwhile as watching naked bods on bikes.

But nowhere near, I'll still admit, mud wrestling with a goddess. 



Back to work. My mind's clear if not clean.

Sunday, June 4, 2017

Breaking a 10-day Fast




Breaking a fast is an art, and a challenge, in itself. First, the stomach will have shrunk and it mustn't be overloaded. Equally important, the body will take whatever we put into it as a fabulous reward. So we'll suffer worse than indigestion if we start off with scones, chips, candy or other old familiar treats.

Some recommend taking up to 4 days breaking a fast, beginning with juices, then adding fruit, yogurt, yogurt topped with nuts, then advancing to whole foods gradually.
Wikipedia offers this detailed plan:

http://www.wikihow.com/Break-a-Fast

I modified this as follows: light juices on days 8-10, yogurt on day 11, etc.

Observations and conclusions:
1) It isn't that much harder to fast for ten days than it is for three. That is, on one condition: try to arrange it so that the first three days--the hardest--are dealt with when you're off work. For a longer fast, even arrange a couple of days off at the end, when you're starting to feel faint.
2) Weight loss has always been about ten pounds at the end of the third day. At the end of the tenth day, I'd lost 25 pounds.
3) Even a 3-day fast would be an excellent way for anyone who's overweight to kick-start a weight loss program.
4) Cravings create cravings...so cultivate great cravings. The long fast was, for me, a chance to reprogram my appetite. And it's been working wonderfully. I feel no sense of deprivation. I don't miss the salt-laden frozen foods I cooked. I look forward to fruit, cold oatmeal, salads and mainly veggie treats, a little chicken and/or cheese as a condiment.
5) A positive long-range plan is also a must. Any of my past attempts to become a Vegan or raw foodie or 100% vegetarian were doomed by my cravings for things that others ate...and which I had enjoyed. The hostility and ridicule I met with didn't help much either. But in the end, it was my show--and I couldn't sustain completely exclusive approaches. If you too have ever fallen off the wagon...

There's this book that's turned my thinking around:




https://www.amazon.com/VB6-Before-Weight-Restore-Health/dp/0385344740/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1496608497&sr=1-1&keywords=vb6

It's misleading to call this a diet, it's not. The VB6 Solution would be more accurate: no calorie counting or forbidden foods involved. You don't become a Vegan but you eat like one until supper, or 6--then you're free to add, if you like, dairy and meat. Till 6-ish, you eat fruit, salad, whole grains...

This works for me because I don't need to avoid dinners with friends or family. And it works because following a plant-strong diet has erased the old cravings for starch, sweets, meat...

Ah, it's Sunday. 2 p.m. Time for a lunch of low salt lentil soup, salad and a meatless Burger.

In another week or two, I'll need to new pants, another size smaller.

Banzai!


Sunday, May 28, 2017

My Fast Has Slowed Me...Nicely

If you've ever thought about fasting, know this: It's much easier after the third day. And if you decide on a longer fast, there's nothing to it on the ninth--except for your moving more slowly. And needing a few extra naps.

But why would you want to fast, you may ask, for even a couple of days. Here are the best of all reasons for me:



and



Breaking the chains was my prime mover this time. In the past, I'd pulled off two long fasts like this. And the results had amazed me: from weight loss to improved complexion to an augmented sense of well-being. In each case, when I broke the fast, I found myself craving superior food--fruits and salads and natural soups--instead of SAD (the Standard American Diet). And in each case I'd lost about thirty pounds in 10 days. I ended up with my own law:

Cravings create cravings...so cultivate great cravings.

But in each case, I drifted back to SAD--a personal or family crisis...or too many little daily slips to pacify my friends (Go on, have a piece of cake!). Thereafter, my many shorter fasts from one to three days reflected the power of the chains. Also, the shorter fasts were compromised: undertaken to lose weight, not for the positive reasons that launched the last two big ones.

Lesson: successful fasting is not an act of Not, not eating things we enjoy:


Instead, it pays to turn our thoughts to all the foods we can enjoy--in just a few more days--once we've broken the chains of SAD...and our taste buds start to tingle at the thought of superior food. Think: there'd be no point in fasting for any length of time if we returned to the same foods that had run us down and fattened us and enslaved us for so long. 

My own ten-day fast ends tomorrow. I know from experience and research to break the fast lowly--3-4 days starting with juices, then slowly adding fruit...then yogurt...yogurt with chopped walnuts...then moving on steadily. So some weight loss will continue for that time.

But my steely sights are set on my master goal: finding and staying with the foods that are right for my body and soul.   And when I look, I see a mainly plant-based diet with meat now and then as condiment, not as the main course.



Next week I'll post my conclusions, plus tips and lessons I've learned through the years.

Today I'm enjoying the gifts of the fast:
--The right knee that's been stiff for ages is flexible again, pain-free.
--My metabolism feels slower. I feel relaxed and non-hyper.
--My concentration feels enhanced.
--I've felt a fresh surge in confidence with each day of the fast.

Till next week!

Sunday, May 14, 2017

On the Move Again

Some dreams take longer than others, as you already know. 30 months ago, I escaped from Charlotte, with a purple trunk and four boxes on board a cross-country train. Destination: Seattle.

My dreams: a studio or apartment in Capitol Hill





and a job at the Elliott Bay book store.



Things didn't go quite as planned. To get my feet, I took a studio in the 'historic'--old and sketchy--part of town known as Pioneer Square.


And, no job offer from the bookstore, I worked at a couple of loser jobs before finding an okay one in...Capitol Hill. Terrific, except for a couple of things: I'd grown tired of seeing throngs of Walking Dead homeless and drug dealers in Pioneer Square. And my workplace is moving to Renton in late August--a three-hour round-trip daily commute.



The time had come for action--the all-out, full-speed, damn the torpedoes kind.
1) At work I learned from a coworker of a studio just a few blocks from the office.
2) I viewed it and decided to take it the next day, though it's a few hundred bucks more than I've been paying. I could make up that difference, I figured, by no longer using Uber.
3) I completed the online application.
4) I reapplied at Elliott Bay Book Company, this time handing the application to a manager.
5) I gave the necessary 2-week notice on my month-to-month studio.
6) I began checking online for cheap but well-reviewed movers.
7) I started scrapping all furniture and furnishings except for the best of the best.

And on and on and on. Before the move to Seattle, I'd needed six months to pack and prepare. This time I have just a couple of weeks. 

Next up: a new job in Capitol Hill.

It's good to be back in action again.




Sunday, April 30, 2017

3 Sticks, a Cat and a Mouse

If you look like food, you will be eaten.
--Clint Smith




Live long enough and you'll soon start to see that you're looking mighty delicious to young jackals out roaming the streets. Mugging's the most obvious worry, since you're in no shape to sprint in pursuit. But money's just one thing you're likely to lose--the attempted thefts of dignity seem to come more often as your head starts to hang and your posture grows slouched. Hey, look, it's a Crinkly--charge!

 For a couple of months I'd been toting the massive Ten Shin walking stick put out by Steven Seagal.



44" long, it weighs about two pounds, and is made of nearly indestructible polypropylene. It can be used as a sword, a spear, a lance--even swung with the handle like an ax. No one troubled me when I carried this stick. Even cars were less likely to cut me off while I was crossing. On the other hand, it attracted a fair share of negative feedback ('You looking to bash heads today?") and even more negative vibes. The jackals were scared but they wanted to jump. I could see it in their eyes. Just as bad, it seemed highly unlikely I could carry the Ten Shin on a plane or bring it to most offices. Furthermore, it's too big to stow in most lockers.
Ten Shin score: one thumb up and one thumb down. Good for hikes and late night walks.

I mail-ordered an alternative: a classy wood cane I could take anywhere. Or so it seemed to me. But this is what I got. Length: 36". Shaft size 18 mm. Weight: .9 lbs.


Attractive but featherweight. And it projected weakness, inviting trouble--which it did. The first night I went home from work, I grabbed my favorite light rail seat at the end of a side bench. Another guy sat at the opposite end. This left room for an average-size person in the middle. But twice in the course of the ride bruisers looked at the opening, looked at me...and slammed themselves down into the too-small space, then started jostling for room. The finger-thin shaft of the cane had signaled easy prey.
Feeble cane score: two thumbs down.  

I had words with the two men, protecting my space. And yet I got to thinking: How could I look less like food at my age?  Or: how could I walk in peace and grace while reducing the risks and the hassles?

I brooded.

I Googled.

I ordered.

Result:



You're looking at the Bubba Stik. You can custom build your own on their website, choosing from a variety of styles, woods, with or without the name branded, And there's no charge for cutting the stick to your size. The shaft is 1". The stick weighs 19.2 ounces. And it's seriously elegant with rugged hardwood shaft and gleaming brass hame knob.
Bubba score: two thumbs and eight fingers up, with a rowdy Rebel yell.

Today, my first day with the stick, I can say: it can be taken anywhere, even on a plane (I checked). Combined with a strong gait and confident air, it commands attention...and respect. Twice, people ran out of their way to open doors for me.

Where I go, there goes Bubba now. Make your own choice, certainly. But whatever you do, as you grow older, make sure at all costs you do not look like food. The jackals are waiting for you, be assured.


Here's the Bubba Stik website if you'd like to check it out:

http://www.bubbastik.com/about.cfm

Tuesday, April 18, 2017

My Outrageously Sexy and Action-Packed Life

People often envy the thrilling life I lead. And I've learned to speak humbly about it.

The many fantabulous mountains I've climbed.



My bloody bouts of MMA.


My passion for riding the rails.


And, God help me, the insanely beautiful women I'm always making love to.



So, even on an average week I'm strapped for time to post here. But for the past two weeks my kicks have been curtailed by the sort of adventures I hate to describe.

I'm ashamed to admit that I've been holed up for the best couple of weeks--and not brawling or bedding or riding the rails or wrestling alligators. Holed up, I say! Like a lowdown lonesome scribe!


And what does that entail, if not yet another party at the Playboy mansion?

God forgive me:
--I've been proofing The Alcatraz Correction for Hold Fast Press to convert into Createspace format.  The second Boss MacTavin mystery will soon be available in paperback.
--I'm completing the outline for the fifth MacTavin mystery--one that takes the franchise in a brand-new direction.
--I'm also working 40 hours a week while looking for a new job before the present one moves out of town.

That's it, you ask? I know, I know. But trust me. I'll return to form soon, I promise. And once again I'll live the life led by all self-respecting Real Writers.

Reb MacRath, Action Hero.

This is my report.