Duckie Babies: a Remembrance

Time moves relentlessly forward.

The Best Laid Plans...

The day before I was born, my mother went to the hospital to prepare for my birth. My father decided he would surprise my mother and go home and clean the entire house -- top to bottom. He cleaned the house, left open all the windows to make sure everything was aired out and smelled great, and returned to the hospital. As is pretty common in this neck of the woods during July, a whopping huge-ass dust storm came through that night. When my father and mother returned home, the interior of the house -- once spotless -- was completely coated with dirt.

Helen Thomas RIP

I wanted to be many things growing up -- paleontologist, translator at the United Nations, oceanographer, actor. I tried my hand at a lot of these things, but always came back to writing. There are two people who I admired growing up: Edward R. Murrow and Helen Thomas (1920 - 2013).

It was because of Murrow that I got into radio news. I wrote and produced documentaries because he did. He touched millions of people through his war reporting and his later documentaries (radio and television).

It was because of Thomas that I got into writing for newspapers and magazines. Every time there was a presidential press conference, she was there. She always had insightful, probing questions. Many of her questions -- a journalist trying to get to the truth -- got her in trouble. I admired her for having the strength to ask those very questions.

I think our profession is diminished greatly at her loss; but our profession has been losing its luster over the years because of so-called journalists spouting opinions as facts. Now, understandably, the public doesn't know whom to trust, so they suspect every journalist -- the real ones and the pretenders.

The job of a journalist is not to make friends; it is to interview people, gather facts, put information into a timeline so that people can understand what is going on. A lot of people have lost sight of this, but Thomas never did.

Books I'm Reading

Am reading this.

Just finished reading this.

Would my father still be alive?

Would he still be alive if he had sought out medical advice when the cough first started rather than waiting TWO YEARS? Would he still be alive now, nine years after he died?

I don't know.

Would my father still be alive if I tried just a little harder to convince him to go to the doctor? Would it have helped to have had just one more fight with him about going to see what was wrong? Would it have mattered if I forced him into the car and drove him to the doctor myself?

I don't know.

It's possible nothing that he or I or anyone could have done would have meant he would still be alive today to celebrate his 81st birthday. But, there's no way to know for sure, is there?

No, there's not.

All I know for sure is that he was a stupid man to not go to the doctor when he could have treated the lung cancer that eventually spread to his brain and killed him.

Facebook and Me

I was a late convert to Facebook. I was hesitant to get involved with "social media" because it just seemed too much -- too much information, too much time, too much everything.

When I dove head-first into publishing my novels, everyone (and I do mean you) told me I had to have a Facebook page for my writing. Fair enough. I started a professional page and began putting up content related to my books. Lots of content. I'm reminded of the comment someone made back in the 1930s about the famous vaudeville stars (think Jack Benny and Fred Allen) as they made the transition to radio: In vaudeville, you could use the same material every show, every day for years and get laughs. On radio, you use it once and that's it.

To figure out what I should post, I began looking at what others posted. There are a lot of baby pictures. There are a lot of cat pictures. There are a lot of photographs of people I don't know. But all that's fine. It's interesting to see what other people think is interesting enough to post on a public forum.

I joined Facebook in May 2012. In that year, my feelings about Facebook have changed. I still think it's too much information and too much time, but I'm also starting to understand its world-wide appeal.

I've connected with people I knew from high school. People I didn't realize I missed being in touch with. I met new friends (a lot of new friends) who share my interests. I've latched on to some personal and professional pages on which I read very interesting stuff. I love learning, and it's a new opportunity.

Occasionally, I post personal thoughts and insights -- like this one. I can't imagine too many people care to hear my opinions on things or stuff, but I occasionally post something I consider pithy -- or at least interesting.

My spouse, Matt, says I always discover something really fascinating about ten years after everyone else found it fascinating. Fair enough. I don't care if I'm late to the party as long as show up. (And, for the record, I don't believe in being late. It shows respect to be prompt.)

Generally, I'm enjoying my time on Facebook. Although there are still a few things I don't understand.

For example, why do people think cats are illiterate? All the cats I know would ask properly for a cheeseburger -- and would add "please." Cats are many things -- stupid isn't one of them.

Another example: how can people not find animals beautiful? I love all the kitty photos, the doggie pics, the rabbit snaps. All of them. But I don't understand why people feel a need to "shame" their animals on a public forum. Would you like it if someone publicly "shamed" you every time you peed on the bed, or ate through a power cord? Probably not.

Lastly, I don't understand why people say mean and hurtful things on other people's Facebook pages. It astounds me some of the rude comments I've read. Perhaps it's the supposed "anonymity" of posting online that gives people power to be mean. But, even if no one else in the world knows you said it, YOU still do. There's no anonymity in knowing yourself.

On the flip side, I've been on the receiving end of some very considerate, thoughtful, even kind words from people who follow my pages or just stumble onto them. People I've never met, perhaps people I'll never know in person, taking the time to type something kind and encouraging. I'm so amazed at the generosity of some people. I always try to be kind and considerate of others -- keeping in mind the tired but true dictum: if you have nothing nice to say, say nothing.

But, right now, I have writing to attend do. I'm working on another novel and my time is very precious, and I need to -- wait, another picture of baby kitties! Hold on! I'll be right back.

Happy Birthday, Donald!

In the animated short "The Wise Little Hen," 09 June 1934.

Books I'm Reading

Am reading this.

Just finished reading this.

Win a signed copy of "Murder at Eastern Columbia"!

My newest novel has just come out: "Murder at Eastern Columbia," a James Murray mystery. It's a really cool story about a young man in 1931 Los Angeles who wants to be a writer, and his alter ego, tracking down clues and trying to solve the murder of the girl with the sorrel-colored hair.

Wanna win a copy? Of course you do! Here's a contest. Good luck!
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Melamine Answer Man

Who hasn't wondered what kind of melamine dinnerware was used by Darrin and Samantha Stevens on "Bewitched" (pictured)? Or the kind used by Lucy and Ricky on "I Love Lucy"? Or perhaps what brand Alice favored when serving "The Brady Bunch"? Now, you can find out on a new page I just added to my PlasticLiving.com website here.