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Showing posts from October, 2010

Re Elect Tim Bishop for congress 1st District New York

This year’s election the whole family has been supporting our congressman, Tim Bishop for re-election. The polls indicate it’s a tight race, but for my youngest daughter’s sake, I hope Tim wins. She will be very disappointed and I’m not sure how she’s going to take it. The whole family will be depressed, but we know the reality of politics. In our case, we’ve seen Gore win and lose. The other night Bella was watching TV, when a commercial for the opponent came on. “Lies! They’re all lies,” she said when the commercial mentioned Tim was for raising taxes, had bad hair and smelled horrible. Bella is seven. I think we’re raising a political monster. There is only black and white in her mind, either you’re with us or against us. Our oldest daughter Amanda has been diligently working on the campaign, and let me add here, all of us have put in some time – and for our hard work we had the opportunity to meet Bill Clinton before Wednesday’s rally at Stony Brook University. We were invited as …

How I received permission from REM to use their lyrics in my novel

While writing Killer Commute, REM’s album Accelerate was released. The fourth song on the album is titled Mr. Richards; the music jumped out at me. I wanted to use some of the mysterious lyrics, as well as the name Mr. Richards in the novel. You should know; I’ve been an REM fan since walking the five miles to buy a copy of their album Murmur, and saw them for the first time open for The Police at Shea Stadium. In order to use the lyrics I needed permission and I was directed to the right source through REM’s manager, Bertis who was very helpful.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TnUyEYF8tv8&feature=fvw
This is how my mind worked: how can I use the lyrics in the murder mystery? From the hypochondriac veteran Detective’s point of view, “they know what’s going on.” From the insane killer’s perspective, “We’re the children of the choir.”
Please allow me some conjecture on the song; Mr. Richards is a full blown assault, a constant pulse pulling me into a wall of sound. It is very dif…

Last day at the beach, a post I wrote but didn't post

Taking in the last days of summer, on Saturday afternoon, I took Joe and Bella down to the beach. We knew it would high tide, a favorite game is guessing what the tide would be, it’s a habit of mine to ask before making the sharp turn towards Cedar Beach. The water lapped onto the side of the road. No one checked our beach tag, the post was deserted. It appeared as if one parking lot was closed for a fair. I parked the mini-van and we made our way down to the water. The waves were high since the winds were strong, and from the West faint cool cries of autumn were droning in. There were few bathers, the life guard chairs were removed as well as the rope that borders where the public bathers can dip into the water. There were no bi-planes, but one guy was flying a big fish synthetic kite. We ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and drank juice. The food hit the empty spots in our bellies and we paraded back into the clear water and conducted acrobatics for the curious on loo…

When your child is in the hospital

When one of your children is sick the world fades away. When one of your children is in a hospital, life trembles and revolves around visits to the confined sterile room, medical updates, and our uneducated speculations. The house was emptier without my wife and Emma Tess. The child was suffering with some sort of virus, couldn’t keep anything in and even drinking a teaspoon of water brought intense pain, which lasted almost three weeks. It’s been less than a week since had her gall bladder removed. She's only fourteen. Wednesday will be a week since I picked them up at Stony Brook University Hospital. Finally the doctors came to an agreement. Tests were indicating the gall bladder was failing, and thank God her symptoms were not caused by something more serious. Watching her pale face, the sad eyes and listening to the demure voice was upsetting; her voice was hoarse when she came out of surgery. Drug induced stupor; she looked too distant from the world. My Emma Tes…