Category Archives: Blogging

Midnight to Daylight Battle


writers-desk-300x180It’s practically after midnight, I’m sitting at my desk thinking of a unique piece to write about & work on through the night or nearly through the night? All Depending on what karma decides to give me as the night drags onward into the darkness toward the world of – “Daybreak.”

Darkness seems to never fail for those who write and work as night owls of the darkness or the abyss of the night. But, for me its somewhat of a battle of sorts – idea’s don’t come as easy as it did in my younger days as a writer on the college rag,  “The Torch.”

It all started back in the day’s of the early 1990s when I was trying to decide if I wanted to go back to school or not; some six or seven years after graduating from high school.

That leap of faith had me deciding between several career choices and a twist of fate – fate at the time, I literally decided a childhood dream of writing would be the key to going back to school in some form of Journalism rather it be writing novels, scripts for movies and television or just plain jane freelance writing on whatever topic blew into my mind via magazine writing or the likes.

At the time I went back to school I was building a growing Firebuff and Incident paging Network called, “Oregon Firepage,” it was the start of my news stringing career as a freelance news stringer managing the local and statewide “Breaking News Coverage in the public safety spectrum of police and fire departments across the state,” not only to the fire buff groups across the country but also to other statewide paging networks.

It was tough and competitive with other similar fire buff networks getting local and statewide Breaking News Coverage. As the fire buff networks died down or other networks getting bought out by other networks across the country, it was time to reconsider the next plan of battle.

The battle made me decide New stringing was still my best bet while continuing forward with my paging network.

pexels-photo-359989.jpegAs daybreak started to rise, I was still in the battle picking up the pieces and editing away as I kept writing for a few hours before getting some much-needed shuteye and some needed rest from a long day in the chair while getting Chemotherapy the day before at the cancer center.

As the sun rose above clear skies and high clouds started rolling in for an anticipating series of storms started to trek into the Ohio Valley from the western fronts of the Midwest portion of the United States. My battle continues as the day drags on toward the dawns of Sunset, which is still a few hours away from the dawn darkness.

“It may very well be another night working into the darkness of deciding of what type of blog articles to pen for the rest of the month? Again it’s a battle to be seen, if I even have a standard set of quota to pen each month, as I try to break the cycle of slacking weekly for numerous days of not writing and penning anything worthwhile it would be well worth the effort and gaining the upper hand in the battlefield.

Perhaps it shall be seen how the battle goes for the month of April.

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Are we a part of Star Trek?


pngtree-five-hawaiian-islands-png-clipart_675136Some folks have been asking me since leaving Oregon for the Midwest, especially an old childhood buddy that I grew up with who now lives in Hawaii with his lovely wife on how I am adapting to life in the historic part of the country?

Evidently, we’ve spoken several times over our social media platforms and have expressed our differences in living in different parts of the country together.

With him living on an island in the Northern Pacific Ocean and me living on the mainland of the United States in the Midwest, history bestows both our new homes and the regions we now live our lives as we get older.

It’s quite interesting to live in an area of the country that has a rich history in the birth of our nation. I never dreamed in my entire life, that I would live a part of my life in a historical part of our nation other than the Pacific Northwest, where I am originally from.

It makes for some great stories to tell the kids and grandkids, about the chuckles of history from one part of the country to another.

Living life elsewhere is like living in a “time warp,” yes as in another time and place. The reason I bring this up, the other day I was watching a video online of an old television series that I used to watch as a kid, called “Grizzly Adam’s,” with the late Dan Haggerty in the leading role – the buck didn’t stop there as the video that was made was a TV movie made after the series ended its network run of a young boy going back into time in the 1840s and meeting Grizzly Adams, while trying to save a small bear cub from a wicked and cruel circus owner.

In contrast, it feels the same way about leaving the Pacific Northwest. How strange can a perspective like that be? – ultimately, if you really think about it, the magnitude of the feeling makes you feel like you’ve time traveled from one time to another while moving elsewhere, it the gut feeling at times when it comes time to think about how you got here from there.

“Hmm, that sounds meaningful?” Well in a curious way it does while time warping from one place to another? – “what is the universe coming too?; I consciously ask”. Perhaps, I’ll just leave it at that, “Mr. Zulu warp drive, out there somewhere, aye Captain, he says.”

Maybe our universe is worth a look into the “real Star Trek?”.

Like Howard Hughes?


02eb88b3f0f76540cc223c13acc6688fTo battle or not to battle? To fight or not to fight? “What the hell am I talking about?”

Two battle hymns in the same sentence. I must be getting a case of Writer’s Block or something? It’s becoming a case of mystified stymie, as I can’t seem to want to write what I want to write about? At least this was a few days ago when I started to pen this piece together. “Perhaps, it’s just something temporary for the time being?”

Perhaps, I’m just tired and burned out of “twitching the writer’s breath?” Phooey, that could be something contagious nor could it just be something mocking with my half-century old mind and the culinary liking of fine dining? Hey, I’m not one of those rich half-ass idiots that have a Yacht sitting at a pier or at some stateside dock with my name on it, nor am I some Real Estate tycoon who has one of those “gold” plated palaces around the world that would suit that half fared ass Orange Julius in the White House we deal with every day on the television tuber, “no, not YouTube, you idiot!'”

Personally it suits me just fine right down the middle of the Hudson River in New York – “if Captain Scully can make a plane float on the Hudson River, its likely to make the late Howard Hughes smile generously,” while in his stylish 1940’s era suit with the fanfare of his flaming darling, the beloved – “Spruce Goose.” Hmm, makes some sense I guess? “What you folks think?” – “give or take,” I say graciously with a slight grin of insanity.

I’ll probably bet the diamonds on Rio, that no one in this day and generation ever learned this history of the 1940s and the late Howard Hughes?

It looks like I’m actually getting somewhere here with this masterpiece we call a “blog post” – hmm, I’ve likely broken through the catastrophe of getting past the line of battle as I continue to fight my way through the rugged battlefields of writer’s block. I’m still locked and loaded and with plenty of firepowers to choose from to quell the beast to an evil standstill with nothing to surrender to the troops of writer’s block into defeat. “Volia – what a bonafide plan Skipper, just how the hell do you plan to implement for that little ole bastard anyway?” – sarcastically in Gilligan’s Island tone of the Skipper himself, “I can tell you, but then I’d have to kill you and point blank, sorry probie!”. Gotta give you the “Gibbs” slap.

McGee would’ve agreed, I’m sure of giving ole Gilligan’s the ole 21st Century Gibb’s slap.

“Progress seems to have made its way to victory? Only time will tell!” At least we can say those heartfelt good-byes to the “Winter Blues” and yes, we can now say hello to “Spring!” Hooha, now that’s what I’m talking about, bring on the warmth, bring on the picnics, bring on the good ole boy fishing days on the lakes and rivers where the best fish is yet to be seen!

“It’s going to be epic for sure!”

Forward in time


pexels-photo-359989.jpegLast weekend we turned our clocks ahead by one hour for the hour’s worth of sleep that we lost back in the Fall, when we turned our clocks back an hour for the hour we lost during Daylight Savings Time, during the Spring forward saga seven months before. Aloha welcome to “Spring forward, Fall Back time saga routine, once again folks!” – it’s just the majestic of things to come.

I often wonder each time we Spring forward or Fall back each year if I’m on the right biological clock or Earth time? Bummer, no one never seems to know the bonafide answer to the earthling truths of the trade? “What’s the world coming too,” as “Smokey and the Bandit’s,” “Sheriff Buford T Justice,” would say before his biological watch goes off on his slow mo’ stopping time watch in “Smokey and the Bandit 2.”

I’m mystified, in many ways, as I have never explored the opportunity at will to seek and satisfy myself to find an honest answer at why we do this each and every year? Even though, I know it’s been the norm since the late Benjamin Franklin brought it up in the 1800s.

With the day’s getting longer and the warmer months coming ahead, it may seem like a good thing in the long run in the likes of camping, fishing, hiking, picnicking, exploring and more. There’s always something to do when the days get longer and warmer. Not to mention, I’ve always been a fan of the warm Spring and Summer months – ok, its a confession, as for Winter’s, “I’m not so keen” at least to say – it doesn’t run well in my blood with my fight with cancer when it comes to the winter months – “it’s the vampire sucking time in your blood,” I tell folks with a chuckle while holding a hot cup of wicked witches brew in one hand and cursed witches flying broom purchased from nearest Enterprise car rental outlet somewhere in America. This shit really doesn’t fly with the broomsticks, even though it does with the hot warmth of hot cheese sticks from the fast food chain or hot and fresh right out of your own oven.

“Hmm, the culprit shame!” It’s just another confession counselor or should I say, screw the back pay and just dig in and eat the cheesy roll, then you have a full confession outta me and point blank – ditto!”.

 

Crackling fires, underground homes


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A blank page, no notes, a pen sits nearby – waiting to deploy for work!

I’m sitting here at my desk, thinking and hawking out ideas to write and blog about on a cold Sunday afternoon nor should, I say an early evening to be exact?

Nothing comes as easily – sadly enough it’s bitterly cold to be thinking about the warmth of Maui and Pearl Harbor as a forethought! But the idea of the warm sands of the Southern Pacific Ocean does sound refreshing between the two weather climates of the south seas and the mainland. At least it’s better than fetching for the bottle of Jack Daniels or the harden chilled whiskey flask hidden somewhere in the Yukon territory of British Columbia, Canada.

Even though I live in the Great Lakes, inspiration can come and go, all depending on what you’re trying to accomplish with your childish mind. “It’s crazy! Literally crazy,” as we enter another a spat of cold weather. “Phooey!” It never seems to get any better as Jack Frost seems to keep his wintery calendar full of misery and more until the lurks of Spring jumps the gun some weeks away or sooner than one can fetch an arrow through an entire Apple with a bow and arrow.

Cold and harsh winters aren’t something that I’m literally used too, since leaving the Pacific Northwest, where winters seem to be much more milder than here in the Great Lakes. I still fizzle of writing in a cozy office with a warm crackling fire nearby and hawking it out into the twilight zone day or night. But certainly not in the bitterly cold of a polar vortex. The sun still rises over the horizon and its warmth still doesn’t skillfully heat the warmth of one’s chilling bones, which shatters the human body to the ancient times where humans had to fight to stay warm in caves and more while sheltering from the cold among the harden stones of the Mother Earth.

Caves, stones, crackling fires in a sheltered plateau of molten rock seems to be the makings right out of a “Flintstones” movie somewhere in “Bedrock, USA”. The harden earth makes the wonders of living underground a feat to be tried and trued. I have heard stories about people living underground, but I have never seen them upfront and personal. underhill-cave-home-living-big-tiny-house-1.jpg.860x0_q70_crop-scale

The stories of living underground seem to be “folklore” in my own mindset. But, I do know there are realities of living in such dwellings anywhere in the world.”At least it makes some pure sense, genuine pure sense, to cure the warmth of living underground of the Mother Earth.

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