On Scooby Doo and Blogging

I can sound exactly like Shaggy or Scooby Doo. This is a talent to be sure, a talent that has afforded me absolutely no benefits. Speaking of worthless talents, I can do lots of unusual things with quarters. Just thought I’d share…

To those that read Dual Dreams and John Hill, thank you.

I’M STILL STRUGGLING TO FIGURE OUT THIS BLOG BUSINESS. The idea of this blog is to promote my writing and establish some semblance of a network. Last week I posted a short story in three parts, hoping people might be willing to read it in smaller chunks. The site meter tells me 241 people hit my blog last week; however, just 15 people stayed long enough to actually read the story. It seems I’m attracting a lot of traffic, but not a whole lot of people who are interested in reading my short stories.

While I have somehow managed to attract hits, I need to figure out how to bring in readers who are interested in my style of writing. Better yet, I might benefit by attracting publishers or agents who are interested in my style. Oh well, I suppose I’ll keep hammering away.

My hit count has enigmatically increased significantly over the last month or so. I was under the impression that the key words “Swine Flu” and “Star Trek” were responsible for attracting hits, but the hit count remained high with “Dual Dreams and John Hill.”

Last week I received an email from a travel agency offering to place fifty bucks in my Pay Pal account to insert an advertisement on my blog. Fifty bucks! I could use an extra fifty bucks. An internet savvy friend rained on my parade, advising me not to accept the offer, that the ad could damage my computer. For a minute there, I thought I’d hit the big times, not to mention the fifty bucks...

Dual Dreams and John Hill

A Short Story from The Eight Fingered Criminal's Son
“Dual Dreadms and John Hill (1968-1976)"
by W.Z Snyder

© 2006 William Snyder

PART ONE

Dreams are wiser than men.
-Omaha Saying

I was shuffling through the playground sand at Hawthorne Memorial Park on the corner of Prairie and El Segundo. It was 1968 and I was in the fourth grade. The park was completely empty. It was quiet; there were no cars on the road, no other kids, no old Italians playing bocce ball, no planes in the sky. I was feeling kind of lonely, and then I noticed John Hill from my class at Saint Joseph’s swinging on the monkey bars. He was wearing his thick black-rimmed glasses and our school uniform, a neatly pressed white collared shirt and salt and pepper corduroy pants.

“Hill!” I shouted to him.

The kid was doing some amazing things on those monkey bars. He looked like some kind of gymnast, swinging up and over the bars. John Hill was a pretty good athlete but these moves were nearly impossible.

“Hill!” I shouted again as I sprinted to the monkey bars.

“Hi, Snyder.”

“What are you doing here?”

Hill let go of the bar, did three flips, and in the same motion, shot upward to the square platform at the top of the big metal winding slide. Dumbfounded, I executed a Little Rascals style double take. Something wasn’t right.

“What the heck? How did you do that Hill?”

“We’re in a dream Snyder. You can do anything you want.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding, Snyder?”

He hopped down from the platform, strolled over to the basketball court and casually picked up a weathered red, white and blue, ABA style ball that just happened to be sitting at mid-court. John Hill dribbled the ball, showing moves that would have put Walter Clyde Frazier, himself to shame. Upon reaching the free throw line, he leapt into the sky and threw down a crushing, rim-rattling, two handed Wilt Chamberlain style dunk.

“Whoa!”


“Go ahead and try something Snyder. Nothing’s impossible in a dream.”

Taking a couple of steps, I leapt into the sky. I became weightless as I shot rapidly above the park and into the clouds. I was flying. The cool pristine breeze rushed against my face. Freedom. Hill was right. This felt too real to be a dream. John Hill promptly joined me amongst the mysterious white clouds. “Try this.” Hill said.

He dove into a cloud. I followed him into the thick fog that made up the immaculate white cloud. It felt good, wet droplets spitting against my face. The pure white light from the sun hurt my eyes as I emerged. I really dug flying. I still do, at middle age - in my dreams. It feels so incredible, so free, and always so real. John Hill taught me well.

“So Snyder,” Hill looked at me as we shot past a screeching seagull, “isn’t it weird that we’re both having the same dream at the same time?”

“I thought this was my dream.”



“Well, it’s my dream too. Isn’t that obvious to you?”

Hill was the smartest kid in the class.

“This is your dream?”

“No. It’s our dream Snyder; I read about this in a psychology book.”

“Flying?”

“No stupid, dual dreams. Two people sharing the same dream.”

"How do I know you’re not just part of my dream and the real John Hill isn’t at home dreaming about the Green Bay packers?”

“Here’s a simple solution, Snyder. Ask me about the dream when you see me at school tomorrow.”

He spun left, executed a series of rapid rolls and spins before rocketing off into the horizon over the blue Pacific.



Dual Dreams and John Hill can be read, in it's entirety in The EIght Fingered Criminal's Son, available in a book store in Thailand in November of 2010 - Or you can check current entries to this blog to order a copy of this book...

Is Lindsay Lohan Pregnant? What's the Deal with Miss California? What about Donald Trump?

AND THE POINT IS?

Do you really care whether or not Lindsay Lohan is pregnant? Miss California seems to be getting a lot of attention today. I’m not sure I understand why. Quite frankly, I wasn’t aware that people still cared about beauty pageants. Apparently, the woman made a remark about gay marriage. Why would anyone care what a model thinks about gay marriage? Now people are freaking out because seminude pictures of this woman have bubbled to the surface. Donald Trump is also involved in the nonsense. He has forgiven Miss California for the semi naked pictures. I wasn’t aware anyone still cared what Donald Trump thought. Clearly, I'm observing how key words in the title effect my hit count...

Here's some information you can use. Miss California has no connection with Star Trek. But Steve McQueen does. The King of Cool costarred with William Shatner in a 1957 Studio One production of The Defender.

Lala, Vasquez, The Swine Flu, Star Trek and a Sunday Morning in Prescott

SWINE FLU! SWINE FLU! SWINE FLU! SWINE FLU! SWINE FLU! SWINE FLU!

I have nothing to say about the Swine Flu or Lala Vasquez. Including Swine Flu and Lala Vasquez in the titles does appear to attract hits to my blog.

STAR TREK! STAR TREK! STAR TREK! STAR TREK! STAR TREK! STAR TREK!

Star Trek also appears to rack up the hits.
Bluesfrau in Germany asked for a definition of Tribble. Tribbles are the cute furry creatures you see above. They appeared in a Star Trek episode entitled The Trouble with Tribbles.


Word on the street is the new Star Trek movie is quite good.

Below is a shot of the new Lieutenant Uhura. She's a cute enough kid, but she can't begin to compare with the hottest woman in the history of network television.

SUNDAY MORNING IN PRESCOTT

A couple of Sundays back I headed up to Prescott with my eight year-old, Barit and seventeen year-old, Macaulay. An entire cup of coffee ended up in my lap before we hit the one mile marker. We had to head back to la casa Snyder so I could change my pants and despite the adversity, climb back into the car and head north. About thirty miles into the hundred and twenty mile drive, I frantically pulled off the freeway to find a restroom. Such is life when you have a bladder the size of a grape. We stopped for donuts in Anthem and Macaulay insisted that I definitely not buy any more coffee. It was nice to escape the concrete jungle and experience a crisp Sunday morning driving across the wide open Sonoran desert and up into the Arizona high country.

Macaulay is a excellent photographer and she wanted to take some black and white of some old buildings. I was hoping to connect with the former territorial capital since it’s the setting for my latest story. We casually strolled around the courthouse and toward Thumb Butte on Gurley Street as Macaulay snapped away, stopping for hot chocolate in a sub street level bakery. It was a good morning, a nice little adventure with a couple of my girls.

BUCKY O'NEILL

Here’s a shot of the Bucky O’Neill Rough Rider memorial statue in the Prescott Town Square. Captain O’Neil and the Arizona Rough Riders assembled in the square before shipping out to Cuba in 1898. Former Prescott sheriff and judge, Bucky O’Neil and the Arizona Rough Riders assembled in the town square in 1898 before shipping out to Cuba. Captain O’Neil was killed at the Battle of San Juan Hill, shortly after saying, “There isn’t a Spanish bullet made that can kill me.”

Bucky O'Neill is the namesake of Bucky's Hotel and Casino.

Theodore Roosevelt and the victorious Rough Riders at the top of San Juan Hill, sans Bucky O'Neill.

WILLIAM "BUCKY" O'NEILL

Sam Elliot portrayed O'Neill in a 1997 TNT movie entitled The Rough Riders.

Swine Flu! Star Trek!

SWINE FLU!


Are you a blogger? Would you like to attract readers to your blog? I’ve got two magic words for you: Swine Flu. My last two postings included Swine Flu in the title and my hit count seems to have quadrupled. I really don’t have anything else to say about the Swine Flu. Come to think of it, there are probably about a billion Trekkies trolling the internet since the release of the new Star Trek movie. Why not add Star Trek to my title?

If you stopped by to read about the Swine Flu or Star Trek and you’re still reading, welcome and I hope you aren’t so miffed that you won’t take a look around...

I did watch the original series as a kid. Never got into the later series'.

STAR TREK

The Trouble with Tribbles was probably the funniest episode in the original series.

Spectre of the Gun is my favorite episode. Kirk and the boys were imprisoned in a psychic illusion shaped from the recesses of Captain’s mind. The illusion took the form of Tombstone, Arizona, circa 1881.

My second grade classmate, Danny DiAngelo brought his lunch to Saint Joseph's Parish School in a lunch box excactly like the one above.

Lieutenant Uhura. Hot. Smoking hot.

Swine Flu and Mine That Bird

SWINE FLU

The powers that be have decided to send my kids back to school tomorrow. The kids aren’t very happy about it. On the other hand, my wife is ecstatic. It turns out the Swine Flu isn’t as dangerous as they thought. Anybody else feeling manipulated here? Last week the local newspaper reported over a hundred Mexican deaths attributed to the Swine Flu; talk radio hosts were screaming for the head of Janet Napolitano because she didn’t close down the Mexican border. According to yesterday’s paper, there have been less than twenty swine flu related Mexican deaths. What gives? I can’t help but wonder if the drug companies didn’t make a few extra bucks from last week’s panic.


MINE THAT BIRD




The Year of the Seemingly Impossible Dream continues. Note to underdogs: there’s always a chance. A fifty to one underdog by the name of Mine That Bird came from behind to win the 2009 Kentucky Derby. Man, I love fifty to one underdogs.

STEVE MCQUEEN REPORT


Bet you didn't know Steve McQueen held a patent for a bucket seat. It's all about keeping people informed, baby...

Writing Report, Swine Flu and Random Musings

WRITING UPDATE

Although I stopped sending out query emails about six weeks ago, rejections emails continue to filter in. Strangely enough, I welcome the rejections; they make me feel like I’m still involved in the process. This one came in a couple of days ago:

Thank you for querying us regarding your manuscript.Unfortunately, after careful consideration, we have decided to pass on thisproject.

Thank you for considering 3 Seas Literary Agency for representation.

Michelle Grajkowski

Cori DeyoeLiterary Agents

3 Seas Literary Agency

Thanks a million, Michelle and Cori!

This morning I found the time to do a little reading on Prescott history. My novel, The Really Weird Science Guys takes place in Prescott. It turns out the Earp brothers ran a saw mill in Prescott before relocating to Tombstone. Virgil Earp was town constable. Furthermore, he shot some poor schmuck in front of The Palace Saloon. I’m not sure whether the Earp brothers will figure into my story, but I feel like I’m still in the game.

My seventeen year-old daughter and I are heading up to Prescott tomorrow. She wants to take some pictures while I’m hoping to do a little research and maybe pick up some inspiration.

SWINE FLU

There are four confirmed cases of the Swine Flu in Arizona. One of them attends school two blocks from my house. Thursday afternoon School officials announced Tarwater Elementary would be shutting down for one week. I know what you’re thinking; Tarwater is a ridiculous name for an elementary school, but try to say with me, the subject is the swine flu. My girls are thrilled to have a week off from school. The news scared me half to death. My wife, on the other hand, was irritated. “What do you mean the kids are going to be at home seven days in a row?”

RANDOM MUSINGS

This morning my five year-old was jumping on the bed. I hollered at her, “DON’T JUMP ON THE BED!” Five seconds later she was jumping on the bed. Is it a brain development thing? Come to think of it, I ask my high school students to wait to start packing up their things until the passing bell rings, reminding them it’s disruptive and rude. I ask them every day because someone starts loading up early every day. They say it takes upwards of twenty years for a brain to fully develop. It could be a brain development thing. But then again, I have a student from Vietnam; he told me Vietnamese students never disobey their teachers. He explained that Vietnamese discipline methods different from modern American methods, that Vietnamese teachers hit disobedient students with sticks. I attended Catholic school for eight years and I can tell you the nuns weren’t afraid to whack me on the knuckles with the metal end of a ruler every now and again. And other than the limited use of my left index finger, it didn’t hurt me a bit…

The Marx Brothers

THE MARX BROTHERS

If you appreciate humor, you’ve got to check out this blog. It’s called The Marx Brothers and it’s all Marx Brothers all the time.
http://minniesboys.blogspot.com/

LOOKING FOR THE HUMOR

I am sunburned. This is funny because… OK, I guess it’s not funny. People do look funny when they’re sunburned.

I asked my teenaged daughter to help me think of something funny to write about. She helpfully responded with, “Dad, maybe you shouldn’t try to write a funny blog if you don’t have anything funny to say. Maybe you should write something profound.”

To which I replied “I had anything profound to say, I wouldn’t waste time cracking wise, now would I?”

My wife was kind enough to throw her two cents in, “If you don't have anything to say, why are you writing at all. Isn’t that what twitter is for?”

I said, "Why you, I oughtta ..." to myself.

Nothing like support from the family, huh?

I'll be sure to get back to you if I come across anything funny or profound.

WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE

Steve McQueen starred in a television show called Wanted: Dead or Alive. The King of Cool played tough as nails bounty hunter, Josh Randal. McQueen carried a sawed off Winchester rifle in a holster of his side. What a stud. 94 episodes were produced between 1958 and 1961. You can catch the show on YouTube.

THE FLYING NUN

1960s television shows were cool. Fantasy situation comedies were the rage. There were shows about witches, genies, Martians, monsters, ghosts, and talking horses; there was even a show about a car that was possessed by a spirit. But for my money, The Flying Nun was at the top of the fantasy situation comedy heap. The show was based on a novel called The Fifteenth Pelican. What a spectacularly ridiculous premise. Sally field portrayed Sister Bertrille, a novice nun, assigned to a convent in Puerto Rico. The strange wind patterns, her funky headgear and the fact that she weighed just 90 pounds made it possible for her fly. Her side-kick, Carlos Ramirez, was a millionaire playboy who sounded a lot like Ricky Ricardo from the I Love Lucy show.

Why can’t they make shows like this anymore?

Here are the lyrics to the theme song. They were only used once, in the sixth episode.

Who needs wings to fly? Certainly not I.

I prefer to take up on the breeze,

Follow any swallow that may please my fancy.

I just close my eyes, tiptoe through the skies.

Long as there's a habit standing by,

Who needs things like wings to fly?

Writing Report

I got nothin’. Teaching responsibilities, track meets, meetings and training sessions have been keeping me awfully busy. I’ve been lucky enough to secure a summer school job and I’m boning up on the curriculum. I’m staying on top of my responsibilities but it’s been tough to find the time to do any writing.

Here’s my latest writing plan:

1. I’m holding off on my latest novel, The Really Weird Science Guys. I’ll take another crack at it when things slow down.
2. But I will continue blog when I can.
3. I’ll also continue to post selections from The Eight Fingered Criminal’s Son.
4. It’s time to look into self-publishing The Eight Fingered Criminal’s Son. But first, I need to find a legitimate editor.
5. The Spirit Guide Bar is going to need one more revision.

"The Worst Waterman in the World (1986)"

A Short Story from The Eight Fingered Criminal's Son
“The Worst Waterman in the World (1986)"
by W.Z Snyder

© 2006 William Snyder

I may have been the worst waterman ever to wear the Sparklettes uniform. Two and a half years out of college, I had experienced short careers as a bad insurance claims adjuster, a fairly satisfied landscaper’s assistant, a stand up comedian, a cable television host, and a waiter. I also had forked over three hundred bucks in order to earn a certificate from the American School of Bartending. Believing I was headed nowhere; I decided it was time to take on a real job. A friend had a Sparkletts Water route and was pulling a good income. He put a word in for me and I was quickly hired. My official starting position was that of a relief waterman, meaning I took other water guys’ routes when they called in sick or on vacation. Sometimes the directions were good and sometimes they were not. As I mentioned, I was a terrible relief waterman, constantly getting lost and often coming in from my routes long after the sun went down. While I absolutely hated the job, I did undergo some memorable experiences. Delivering water allowed me to see how a true cross section of Los Angelinos lived. I entered thousands of homes over my six months with Sparkletts, delivering water to the wealthiest neighborhoods and the poorest neighborhoods, as well as some of the toughest parts of town.

The scariest place I delivered water was called The Jungle. It was a giant cul-de-sac, probably a half-mile long, located in South Los Angeles. The regular water guy was a former NBA basketball player named Randy Smith. I was assigned to take his route the week he vacationed in Spain. It’s strange for me to imagine a guy delivering water in The Jungle one week and sipping sangria on a Spanish beach the next. Hell, it’s strange to imagine a guy plummeting from professional athlete to waterman. But I guess life is like that. You might think delivering water would be an enormous financial step down for a former professional athlete, but some water guys were pulling in six figures. And this was the mid eighties. Randy had played into the late seventies when NBA salaries were nowhere near the infinitesimal amounts that have become commonplace today. Randy gave me perfect instructions for the route. He had been robbed at gunpoint while working his route more than once. The man talked about being robbed matter of factly. I didn't get the idea he felt anger or fear over the situation. To Randy, the experience of staring down the barrel of a loaded gun and the probability that it would happen again were just part of the territory. It was one of the most lucrative routes in LA and he was willing to take a little yin with his yang. Or is it yang with his yin?

“Bill, you got to be part of the streets. Blend in. Don’t ask no questions. And you don’t want nobody thinking you scared. They’ll eat you up if they do, Bill. An’ keep a twenty with you all the time, cause if somebody wanna rob you, you better have somethin’ for ‘em.”

The Bloods street gang controlled this neighborhood. There were a couple of big ferocious dudes in red sitting on the hoods of cars on either side of the street at the entrance to the Jungle. The same two guys were there each day. I never looked at them, just drove right by, giving it my best to blend in with the scenery. I followed Randy’s advice to the letter; keeping that crisp twenty-dollar bill in my pocket, ready to give it up at any time. When the gang-bangers approached I was fully prepared reach into my pocket and pull out that twenty. I kept waiting for someone to stick a gun in my face but it never happened. The boys in red never said boo to me. With Randy’s precise directions, there were no surprises. My week in the Jungle ran snag free. As a matter of fact, it was the only route I finished on time every day.

I delivered a lot of water to poor Mexican illegal immigrants. Being from Mexico, they didn’t trust the same LA tap water I drank every day of my life. At what point did we as Americans become convinced we need to pay ridiculous prices for the same H2O that comes cheap out of the faucet? I suppose I should climb down off of the fence and state that I believe this whole bottled water business is an Emperor’s New Clothes kind of story. The day is going to come when someone sells people special purified air for ten bucks a bottle. Most of the homes were neat and clean inside. Dinnertime deliveries were especially tough because the food smelled so damned good. I can still savor the mouthwatering aroma of frijoles and tamales being prepared in those tiny kitchens. I’m telling you it was murder. I was usually far behind schedule and wouldn’t be eating until much later. Another thing worth mentioning is that these poor Mexicans who worked for less than minimum wage always paid their bills on time. More than once, I came upon vacant apartments with little white envelopes addressed aguacero (water man). The people had gone back to Mexico but made it a point to pay what they owed. I guess to them, it was about honor.

You can read this story in it's entirety in DART SAFETY AND THE PURPLE BIKINI AND OTHER ADVENTURES OF THE EIGHT FINGERED CRIMINAL'S SON. See current postings for information on how to purchace the book.

The King of Cool, Germany, and The Ten Commandments

Why all this business with Steve McQueen? I don’t know, but I can’t seem to make myself stop.

Apparently, they haven’t forgotten the King of Cool in Germany. I'm not trying to say he's David Hasselhoff, but they haven’t forgotten him. The following factoid comes from Bluesfrau over in Germany.

Steve McQueen wrote the screenplay for The Ten Commandments.

EASTER SUNDAY

HAPPY EASTER!

It’s a beautiful Easter Sunday in Chandler, Arizona. Thanks to yesterday’s storm, the sky is blue and the smell of rain is still in the air. It’s been all about tradition this Easter weekend. The girls dyed Easter Eggs while my wife and I watched The Ten Commandments. What a movie! Just thinking of the music makes me want to do something heroic. Of course the girls woke up to Easter baskets loaded with marshmallow peeps and we carried out the obligatory egg hunt. They found all the eggs but one. The Easter bunny got a little too crafty with the hiding business. I suppose we’ll smell it out in a few days.

STEVE MCQUEEN

Steve McQueen’s first film role was a bit part in the 1956 film, Somebody Up There Likes Me, which starred Paul Newman. McQueen was paid 19 bucks a day.

Steve McQueen, Howard Hughes, Steve Hawes, Kiki Vanderweghe, and Julie White

STEVE MCQUEEN

Fellow blogger, David C. Pointed out that the state of Indiana is responsible for The Ku Klux Klan and Dan Quail. I feel compelled to point out that Steve McQueen was born in Indiana. As far as I know, he never challenged anyone to a real life sword fight but I did read somewhere that McQueen once threatened to break Howard Hughes’ nose.

ONE MORE NBA LEGENDS PHOTO

Here’s a photo of Julie White and Steve Hawes. Julie is my wife’s sister. Unlike my wife, Julie reads my blog. Hawes enjoyed a 10 year NBA career, playing with the Rockets, Hawks, Blazers and the Sonics. Hawes and I met at the NBA Legends Brunch. I took a photo with him thinking he was Kiki Vandeweghe, who also played in the NBA. It was pretty humiliating when we both realized I had mistaken him for Vandeweghe. As a matter of fact, I felt like a complete idiot. Julie and my brother-in-law, Brett, ran into Hawes after the all star game. She made it a point to remind him of my blunder and capture the moment with a photograph. O don’t have my photo with Hawse because, surprisingly enough, I deleted it trying to load it onto my computer. So here is Julie White, the woman who reads my blog even when her sister - my wife, does not, with the man who is not Kiki Vandeweghe.

Thanks for reading , Julie…

SO LONG, NEIGHBORHOOD GRID IRON STAR

Antonio Smith, former Arizona Cardinal and neighborhood celebrity has moved to Texas. The Dallas Texans offered him something like two million dollars a year to sign with them. The Cardinals were only paying him something like a million dollars a year. I ran some figures is my head and realized I’ve been working since 1976 and still haven’t made my first million. I can’t comprehend a million bucks a year, let alone two million bucks a year. Back to the subject at hand, Antonio Smith is a nice guy and I wish him the best.

ANTONIO SMITH

INDIANA SWORD FIGHT?

A deadly sword fight took place in Indianapolis last night. A 77 year old woman was killed trying to break up the duel between her 69 year-old brother-in-law and her 39 year-old grandson. Both men are in the hospital. They really shredded each other up. Details are sketchy.

All I want to know is who the hell fights duels – with swords? A life was lost and the whole thing is quite tragic; I get that. But a sword fight? Maybe the two idiots had seen too many Errol Flynn movies. I wonder if one of the idiots said the words , “I challenge you to a duel.” Maybe just one of the guys was a psychopathic idiot and he came after the other guy with the sword and the other guy picked up a sword to defend himself. Wait, who has swords lying around the house?

Is there anything to be learned from this madness?

Maybe.

First, never try to break up a sword fight. And second, never underestimate the stupidity, the recklessness, the sheer lunacy of your fellow man.

A sword fight?

A sword fight?

WRITING REPORT

I didn’t get any work on my book done this week. My teaching responsibilities kept me busy and I’ve been spending a lot of time on the blog.
I received the following rejection email today, the first in over a month.

Sorry, not for me.
Pahearn

Short, firm, and to the point. Could a rejected writer ask for anything else ?

STEVE MCQUEEN

The King of Cool was on Richard Nixon’s notorious “List of Enemies.” Ironically, Steve McQueen’s political beliefs were conservative.