"Shiny in the Black": A FIREFLY Christmas! (part two)

(Continuing my repost of this Very Special Christmas episode of...)

part one
Wash put Serenity down on the landing pad, nice and gentle. So nice and gentle that Zoe complimented him on it.

"You're getting' more gentle all the time, honey," Zoe said. "You have such a gift for handling sensitive equipment."

"Thanks for sayin' so, my love," Wash replied. "But I could always use more practice--"

"All right, enough of that, you two." Mal came up onto the bridge, fully dressed in his usual brown shirt, brown pants, brown belt, brown holster, brown boots, and probably brown socks too, if one could see them underneath all of that. "Wash, you keep the ship warmed and ready to lift if some part of this job goes south. Zoe, you're coming along."

"I figured, sir."

"Captain," Wash said, "is it really necessary to have contingency plans for this job? We're actually conducting an honest transaction for once."

"Yeah," Mal said. "For once. We don't get a whole lot of practice with this kind of thing, so who knows what might go wrong. You and Kaylee keep the ship ready. River and the Doc will keep you company. Zoe, you'll be with Jayne, the Shepherd, and me."

"What's Inara doing?"

"Well, I think she's still on her shuttle, writing long entries in her diary about how much she hates me right now."

Zoe knew what that meant. "You told her no clients."

"We ain't got time. Why am I always the bad guy on this?"

"Oh, I couldn't begin to venture a guess, Captain," Zoe said. "Let's go."

Mal and Zoe began to exit the bridge.

"Zoe?" Wash called out.

"Yes, love?"

"You're going to buy toys," Wash said. "I could use a new stegosaurus for the collection."

"I'll see what I can do."

The Captain and Zoe left then, and Wash reached into the small footlocker next to his seat and pulled out a handful of his dinosaur figurines.

In the cargo hold, Shepherd Book and Jayne had the cargo hauler ready to go.

"Jayne," Book said, "do you really need that many guns?"

"Preacher, are you carryin' that Bible of yours right now?"

"Good point."

They lifted a crate containing coin up onto the back of the hauler as Mal and Zoe arrived and descended the criss-crossing stairs down to their level.

"Awful lot of coin to be givin' up," Mal said.

"A purchase of good will is never a bad purchase," said Book.

"You get that from that Bible of yours?"

"No, it just came to me," Book replied. "A preacher can't live on the words of one book alone."

"All right," Mal said. "Let's go. Kaylee, open her up."

"Be careful, Captain," Kaylee said as she opened the ship's cargo door and lowered the ramp. Mal, Jayne, Zoe and Book drove off in the hauler. Then Kaylee closed the ship back up. She turned away from the control and nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw that River was standing there, unblinking, just inches away.

"River! You scared me!"

"Would you like me to teach you a song?" River asked.

Kaylee blinked. "Uhhh...sure, honey. I'd love to learn a song."

"It goes like this. 'On the first day of Christmas, the operatives brought to me....'"

"Uh, River?" Kaylee interrupted. "Is this one of those creepy songs you learned while you were captive at...that place?"

"Yes," River said. "I guess I should learn some new songs myself."

"Yeah," Kaylee said. "That would be great."

***

Mal drove the hauler through a warehouse district of Ariel's main city. Unlike the shiny, wealthy area they had visited a few months earlier – to steal some medicine – this area was much darker and dingier. Every planet, no matter how rich, had parts like this, Mal had long since learned. No one was rich enough to banish dirt and grime forever.

"You know where this warehouse is, right, Book?" Mal asked.

"I've got the address right here," Book said, holding up an electronic data organizer. "And the crate number of the merchandise we're getting. It'll be in and out."

Jayne growled. "Every time one of you people says we'll be in and out, I go through half my ammo. I haven't had an in and out job since--"

"Jayne, I'm sure that's fascinating," Mal cut in. "But just in case it ain't, why don't you hold it to yourself?"

"Sure, Mal," Jayne said. "I'll just sit here and be quiet as usual while you and Zoe tell each other the same stories over and over again. Hey, can I hear that one about that time you both got your asses kicked by the Alliance? I love that one."

"Captain," Mal said, pointing to himself. "First mate," he said, pointing to Zoe. "Gun for hire." He pointed to Jayne.

"Thank you for clearing us up on the chain of command, Captain," said Shepherd Book. "But we appear to have reached the warehouse."

"All right." Mal brought the hauler to a stop near an entrance. "Standard procedure. Zoe, you'll get us in. Then, Jayne, you're in first, followed by me, then the Shepherd, and Zoe, you bring up the rear. We're going to try and find this crate, get it, and be done with it before anyone knows were here."

"In and out, Captain?" Zoe said.

"In and out," Mal agreed.

"Not usually our thing," Zoe said as she walked to the door.

"See, Mal?" Jayne said. "This is what I'm talkin' about."

"Well Jayne, that's six hours since I last regretted hirin' you." Mal smiled. "I think that's a new record for you, ain't it? Hey Zoe, you got that door open yet?"

"Think so, sir," Zoe said as she pressed a button that made the large bay door swing open. "Pretty easy, too."

"Huh," said Mal.

"Anybody else thinkin' that was a little too easy?" Jayne put in.

Mal shrugged. "Well, we've got guns, so if we get into some local color, we can make our way out."

"There might be armed guards inside," Book pointed out.

"Cold feet, Shepherd?" Mal said. "This was your idea. But we're here, and I'm not in the habit of runnin' away at the first sign of something unexpected, especially if that unexpected thing is something that actually makes my life a little easier. Like an unlocked door. Shepherd, grab the coin. Jayne?"

Book picked up the crate of coin, and Jayne came forward and led them inside.

The warehouse was, pretty much, like every other warehouse in the 'Verse. There's only so much you can do, really, to dress up hundreds of stacks of thousands of cargo crates in an enormous, cavernous room.

"Well, would you look at that," Jayne said. "A warehouse. We don't see these too often."

"Sure, Jayne."

"I mean, yeah, we go into our share of storehouses, stockpiles, armories...there was that one depository we knocked over that one time...and before I joined you people, there was that distribution center job...but not a lot of warehouses."

"Jayne," Mal said, "are you trying to get on my gorram nerves?"

"Just commentin' on the unique nature of this job, Mal."

"Shut it, Jayne," Zoe said. "Preacher, you got the crate number?"

Book consulted a slip of paper. "It's 29-94-75."

Mal looked at the manifest markings emblazoned on the side of several nearby crates, and determined which way they needed to go. "This way," he said, and with Jayne in the lead and Zoe in the rear, they made their way down the corridor created by line upon line of stacked crates.

It didn't take long to find it. The crate was pretty large, taller than Mal by about two feet, and about eight feet long and six feet across. Mal shone his flashlight on the crate and read the number. "This is it," he said. "29-94-75. No other markings."

"There wouldn't be," Book said. "The number is all they need."

"Yeah, I know how shipping works," Mal said. "All right, here it is. Now we just gotta get it out of here."

"That crate's a little big for me to haul out on my back," Jayne said. "Of all the gorram--"

Zoe cleared her throat. "I think that's the solution to our problem, Captain," she said. She pointed to an open area about thirty feet away, where two forklifts stood silent.

"There it is, then," Mal said. "Easy. Jayne, you'll drive the lift. We'll get the goods back out to our hauler, get back to the ship, before anyone knows we were here. No problem. See, I told you! Easy job."

At that moment six floodlights turned on, three from each side, all trained on Mal and his crew.

"Malcolm Reynolds!" a voice boomed out from the darkness behind the floodlights. "Malcolm Reynolds, you are bound by law to stand down."

Jayne muttered something in Chinese.

"In and out, right, Captain?" Zoe said.

All Mal could do was raise his hands and nod for the others to do the same.

End Part Two

Your Daily Dose of Christmas!

Christmas isn't complete without choral music, and quite a lot of it. This is "Salvation is Created", by Pavel Chesnokov. This showed up on several of our Christmas programs during my years at Wartburg College.

Why drink lots of coffee?

Because of reasons!

(That's all I got today. Last week was insanely busy at Teh Day Job, and now I'm catching up at home. The music posts will still be coming, though, and more stuff through the week!)

(Oh, and BUY THE BOOK ALREADY IF YOU HAVEN'T YET YOU BUNCH OF LOLLYGAGGING LAGGARDS!!!)

Your Daily Dose of Christmas!

OK, this is different. I did a YouTube search for "Japan Christmas" and found this.

Your Daily Dose of Christmas!

I couldn't decide which version of this carol I wanted to use, so you get them both. One's instrumental, and one's choral. Here are two versions of "Bring a Torch Jeanette, Isabella".

Your Daily Dose of Christmas!

It's not Christmas without Love Actually, so here's Billy Mack.

Something for Thursday

It's not going to be all-Christmas all the time this month!

You know, it's funny about country music. It's not my favorite genre, and I probably actively dislike well over fifty percent of it. But the stuff I hear that I like? That stuff is amazing. Country music doesn't hit me very often, but when it does, it hits me between the eyes, man. Such as this cover of an old Glen Campbell song by a group that's just emerged in the last few years, The Band Perry. (Because the three main members are siblings named Perry.) I heard this on the radio at work and I couldn't stop listening to it, to the point where I rudely trailed off in the middle of people trying to converse with me. Luckily they're used to me doing that sort of thing.

Here's The Band Perry, with "Gentle On My Mind".

Your Daily Dose of Christmas!

I've just been made aware that Spinal Tap did a Christmas song called "Christmas with the Devil".

Ayup!

A Random Wednesday Conversation Starter

If you watch cooking shows on teevee, what's your favorite? Could be food documentaries, instructional cooking shows, competitions, anything!

Your Daily Dose of Christmas

Here's an old classic, "Sleigh Ride" -- but not the one you're thinking of! This one is by composer Frederick Delius.

Sentential Links

Haven't done one of these in, oh, forever....

:: She went away for about a week to Grandma and Grandpa’s house in mid-August, spending time with her 13 y.o. twin cousins, and she comes home a Weird Al maven. (Next up: Monty Python!)

:: You never have to worry about me. This farm will always be okay and only grow to be stronger, healthier, wiser and better equipped to help others find the same happiness if they want it. And I think the best thing I can do to make my fire burn a little brighter is remind you that you also have a hot coal in there somewhere. So choose to be happy, and it is a choice. Smile when you are cold, naked, and scared. Light the Need Fire of your own story, and share that heat with the rest of us. We sure as hell need it when the toilet bowl freezes...

:: Typical of JJ Abrams. He talks a good game but in the end all the reaction he ever gets out of me is 'meh'. (Man! I liked it!)

:: I’m not in the mood for the Internet.

:: In the meantime, whatever comes a year from now, I’m savoring today, this feeling, this excitement, this reminder of youth.

:: HAPPY THANKSGIVING, EVERYBODY! Crankshaft reminds you that Thanksgiving is a fun time to watch your elderly relatives, who know that they’re going to die soon, bargain with God. Enjoy!

:: Pleasure has to be a part of life, if you can swing it. I’m trying.

Maybe more next week! But with my usual level of reliability of late, don't bet the house on it.

Your Daily Dose of Christmas!

There are times I really miss Johnny Carson. He and his crew used to do the most wonderfully funny Christmas musical bits. Here is a case in point!

"Shiny in the Black": A FIREFLY Christmas! (part one)

It's a Christmas tradition here at Byzantium's Shores! I rarely commit acts of fanfiction, but...this is one of them. If Firefly had ever had a "Very Special Christmas Episode", I think it might well look like this. Enjoy! It's in four parts; they will run each Monday this month.

Take my love, take my land
Take me where I cannot stand
I don't care, I'm still free
You can't take the sky from me
Take me out to the black
Tell them I ain't comin' back
Burn the land and boil the sea
You can't take the sky from me
There's no place I can be
Since I found Serenity
But you can't take the sky from me...

Captain Malcolm Reynolds was usually the first one to exit his bunk in the morning, which, coupled with the fact that he was also usually the last one to retire to his bunk at night, went a long way to making him the way he was. Even on mornings like this one, when the night before he and the rest of his crew had been up abnormally late celebrating a score on Persephone, he was up before anyone else, no matter how much his head throbbed and the metallic taste of too much bad whiskey filled his mouth. But on this morning, as he climbed up the ladder to the hallway and shuffled toward the mess, he slowly realized that he wasn't the first one up this time. Someone was in the mess already, and they were singing. Mal could make out the words – "God rest ye, merry gentlemen..." -- and he inwardly sighed. On a typical day, Mal needed at least three cups of green tea before he was ready to deal with Shepherd Book. Today he figured to need six cups before he felt ready to talk to anyone.

"Ah! Good morning, Captain! There's water on the stove, just off the boil, if you're looking for tea." The Shepherd beamed.

"Yeah," Mal said. "I'll get to the tea in just a moment, Shepherd, but just now I'm a bit flummoxed as to why there's a tree in the corner of my mess."

"Oh, that," said the Shepherd. "I hoped you wouldn't mind. Just a little something I picked up before we left Persephone yesterday."

"I didn't notice you bringing a tree on board?"

"Yes, I was worried about how to sneak it onto the ship, when I realized that God had provided me a perfect way to get it past your eyes."

"And that was...."

"You and Jayne were ripping drunk. Zoe and Wash and the Doctor carried you on board. You weren't noticing anything last night."

"I wasn't that drunk!"

"Maybe, Captain, but you got out of bed and came all the way to the mess wearing your gun, your slippers, and a pair of women's underwear."

"Oh." Mal staggered over to the stove. "I think I'm gonna have that tea now, while you explain why there's a gorram tree on my gorram boat."

"There's no need for language, Captain." The Shepherd folded his hands in front of his chest, in that prayerful stance that Mal hated. Of course, Book well knew that the Captain hated it when he took that tone, which is why he did it so much more often now. Mal just grunted as he fumbled in the cupboard for his favorite mug and the tea leaves.

"Hand me the kitchen robe," Mal said.

"Certainly." Book opened another cupboard and pulled out a bundle of cloth, which he tossed to the Captain. This was the 'kitchen robe', a bathrobe that Mal kept stashed in the mess just for situations like this. He put on the robe as his tea steeped, and just in time, too, because that's when Zoe and Wash arrived. Zoe looked all cleaned up and ready to go, as did Wash, even if no one could tell because Wash generally looked all cattawumpus, with his unbuttoned shirt over a tank top, shorts, and sandals.

"Well, this is very nice," Zoe said. "Care to let us know what you're wearing underneath the kitchen robe, sir?"

"I do not," said Mal. "And you can stop laughing. We've all had mornings like this."

"Not laughing, sir."

"You laugh on the inside," Mal countered.

"It's true, honey," said Wash. "You do. I, on the other hand, plan to laugh joyously out loud at our Captain and his self-induced plight."

"I hold my liquor better than you," Mal said.

"I never get much chance to develop my skills in that regard," Wash replied, "seeing as how somebody's gotta be sober enough to fly the ship. Speaking of which, do we have a destination, Captain?"

"Can I drink my tea first before I think about business?"

"Certainly, sir."

Shepherd Book took a step forward. "I actually have a few thoughts as to that--"

"Ooooh, pretty!" And with that, everyone turned to greet Kaylee, who had just arrived in the mess as well, wearing a freshly cleaned pair of overalls over a shirt with little red hearts all over it. "I didn't know we could grow trees on board!"

"We can't grow trees on board," Mal said. "This here is a flight of fancy by the good Shepherd, who I'm sure will be explaining himself momentarily."

"Well, I like it," said Kaylee. "It's shiny."

"It's not shiny yet, actually," said Book. "It will be, after we decorate it."

"Decorating?" Mal said. "A tree?"

"Yes sir," said Book.

"So just the fact that there's a tree on my boat isn't even the strangest part of this whole business?"

"It's not strange, Captain," said Book. "It's a tradition."

"Preacher, you got any notion as to how many weird things people do are explained by casual use of the word 'tradition'?" Mal sipped his tea. "That explains a lot of your whole 'Shepherding' job, you know."

"Traditions become traditions because they mean something to people," Book said. "You've got some traditions yourself, Captain."

"Name one."

"For one, your finding of an Alliance-friendly bar every year on Unification Day. And also your overindulgence every time we get a little more money for a job than you'd planned." He smiled. "At least this tradition doesn't involve a headache and the burning of another set of clothes."

"Yeah, well, I'll be taking that explanation now, if you don't mind."

"Certainly, Captain. It all began on--"

He was interrupted by a loud burst of raspy Chinese as Jayne Cobb staggered into the mess. "Smells like a ruttin' forest in here," Jayne said when he'd finished cursing in Chinese."I hate forests. They remind me of my grandmother."

This, as did many things Jayne said, made everyone stop talking and stare at him.

"What? Oh, I suppose you all think that forests are nice places filled with happy little creatures. Like one of Kaylee's storybooks."

"I don't read 'storybooks'," Kaylee protested. "I'm not a child, Jayne. I'm an engineer and I'm a woman with all the needs of a woman, like—"

"Stop! Please!" Mal burst out. "You know I don't want to hear about that, Kaylee."

"Sorry, Captain."

"Wash, can you just get us in the air, please?"

"I wanted to hear about this tree first," Wash said. "I mean, since you haven't given us a destination yet for our next job and all."

More silence, until Zoe cleared her throat.

"By any chance, Captain, did you think to line us up a new job when we finished the old one?"

Mal shrugged. "I had other things on my mind last night," he said.

"I'll say," said the newest arrival into the mess. "Although I don't think he was exactly thinking with his mind last night." It was Inara, who looked typically resplendent in her kimono-like morning robe. "Was she memorable, Mal?"

"Well, she--"

"You don't remember her, do you?"

"You know, I think we've all got off the main topic here, which is why there's a gorram tree on my boat!"

"Well, Captain," said Book, "as I tried to start explaining--"

"A Christmas tree," said yet someone else. Tensions went up as the voice of the ever-enigmatic River Tam cut through. "We had a Christmas tree at the institute. The men there said there would be presents. That was before they started the mental probes."

River stood there in the doorway, with her brother, Simon the good doctor, standing behind her.

"River?" Simon said. "Do you remember something?"

"I remember everything," River said. "I just choose when to talk about it."

"So," Simon said, "you know what the tree is?"

"I just said so," River replied. "It's a Christmas tree. But it's naked. It needs decorations to make it shiny."

"Ah," said Book. "You see, Kaylee? That's what I was getting at. We'll decorate it."

"With what?" Kaylee asked.

"Oh, all sorts of things," said Book. "Ornaments made of painted glass. Little lights. Popcorn that we put on strings. And I even have a figurine of an angel for the very top of the tree."

Jayne cleared his throat. "Anybody else here havin' a hard time figurin' out who's crazier here, the Shepherd or the Doc's sister?"

"I don't think it sounds crazy," said Kaylee. "I think it sounds nice."

"It kind of does," said Wash. Noticing Zoe giving him a skeptical glance, he went on, "What? I've been saying for years that this boat could use some more color on it."

"My boat's got all the color it needs," said Mal. "Look, people, next person other than the Shepherd who talks is on mess patrol for a month. Shepherd, explain this. You've got until I finish my cup of tea, and if your explanation ain't convincing, you're the one on mess patrol."

"A hard bargain as always, Captain," said Book. "It's an Old Earth tradition. The Bible tells us that one day, God decided to come into the world in the form of an infant, so he could save his people. Ever since then, believers have celebrated that night by doing things like exchanging gifts, and bringing trees into their homes to decorate. That's what I'm doing here."

"Shepherd," Mal said, "didn't I once tell you that God ain't welcome on the Serenity?"

"You did, Captain. But it's my belief that God is here, whether you consider him welcome or not."

"Well, be that as it may, you've brought a tree onto my ship without asking me."

"Would you have said 'yes'?"

"No, but that ain't the point. I like to be asked anyway. It's my ship."

"I just thought...it might be a source of pleasure for us," Book said. "You don't have to believe to celebrate."

"You said somethin' about exchangin' gifts," Jayne said. "What's that?"

"Well," Book said, "we could each randomly select a member of the crew and get that person a gift." He noticed the scowl on Mal's face. "Or not."

"We should," Kaylee said. "We don't do enough nice things for one another."

"I let you all stay on board," Mal said. "That's nice of me."

"And your hospitality is known throughout the 'Verse," Inara said. "That's why so many people flock to us to give us money."

"Yeah," Mal said, "I'm a loving man. But as to the money thing, you said something about a job, preacher? You got a lead for us?"

"I do," said Book. "Of a sort."

"Of a sort? The paying sort?"

"Not as such, no."

"Then what is it?"

"There's an orphanage on Haven," Book said.

"Lot of orphanages on Haven," Jayne pointed out.

"Yes, but as it happens, I know this orphanage particularly well." Book looked like he was remembering something...but then he snapped back to the moment. "I would simply like for us to take some of our recently abundant bounty – not all of which was obtained through means the authorities would entirely smile upon – and use it to purchase supplies for the orphanage. We would then deliver said items to the orphanage in time for an upcoming festival."

"Supplies?" Mal asked.

Book nodded. "Food, clothing, and...toys."

"Toys?" Mal repeated.

Jayne frowned. "And we're doin' this in exchange for what?"

Book just smiled.

"No way," Jayne said. "No way, uh-uh. No way I'm givin' some of my ruttin' money to some bunch of orphans. Ain't my fault they ain't got no home. Let 'em grow up, find work, and make an honest livin'."

"Is anyone besides me," Simon said, "unusually touched by Jayne's newfound belief in making an honest living?"

"Shut up, Doc," Jayne said. "Least I ain't hidin' behind a slip of a girl."

"No," River said. "You hide behind a gun that you gave a girl's name."

Jayne's only response to that was a grumbled growl.

"Let me get this straight, preacher," Mal said. "You want us to spend some of the money we've fought and scrimped for and use it to give stuff to children? And you want us to do this on a time frame of...what?"

"Three days, Captain."

"Three days. And we're doing all this with no reward for us?"

"Not all rewards come in the form of money, Captain."

"The ones that keep this boat in the air do," Mal said.

"Come on, Captain!" Kaylee said. "I, for one, would like to do a job for once that don't make me feel like I need a shower after."

"Maybe we put it to a vote of the crew?" Simon offered.

Mal glared at him. "My ship ain't a democracy," he said. "But...Jayne?"

"Can't decide, Mal," he said. "Normally I'd be against this sort of stuff, but I'm thinkin' that if we don't do it, Kaylee here'll be complaining about it for months. Might well be worth doin' to keep her quiet."

"Thanks, Jayne," Kaylee said. "But really, it'll feel good. Don't you all want to feel good about something for once? I mean, feel good about something other than stealin' from the Alliance?"

"There's other things to feel good about?" Jayne asked.

Mal turned to his second in command for help. "Zoe?"

"I don't know, Captain," Zoe replied. "Normally I'm siding with you, but right now, I find myself a bit swayed by Kaylee's youthful exuberance."

"I can't believe I'm even considering this," Mal said.

Shepherd Book put a hand on Mal's shoulder. "I think that maybe some part of you is seeking redemption," Book said.

Mal glared at him.

"Not really helping your cause there, preacher," Zoe said.

Book removed his hand.

"If we do this," Mal said, "I've got some conditions. Kaylee, you are not allowed to badger me for an optional ship's part for one month. Shepherd, you will do all cooking and mess duty for the same month. Jayne, one word that this job makes me soft, and I'm shooting you out the airlock."

"What about me, Captain?" Inara asked, purposely blinking her beautiful eyelashes as she did so.

"Uh...I'll think of something," Mal said. "All right, Shepherd, where are we going first?"

"To buy some toys," Book said. "Which means a trip to Ariel."

"Wash, you heard the man. Let's get in the air. I'm gonna go clean up. Can't believe I'm doing this...." And with that, Mal left the mess to return to his bunk. Wash and Zoe headed for the bridge, and Kaylee left for the engine room. River gave Shepherd Book a look of reproach.

"You didn't tell him the part about the elfin-man dressed in red who flies through the sky to give the children their presents," she said.

"On the whole," Book replied, "I figured it best to leave that part out of it."

"Yeah," Simon said. "That was...probably wise."

Minutes later, Serenity lifted off and flew away from Persephone and toward Ariel.

End Part One

Your Daily Dose of Christmas!

Time to start this feature up again! The world needs some Christmas music, so we'll have some here, each and every day this month until the 25th. Hooray! As in other years, some selections will be new, while others will be repeats.

I'll probably get some flack from my new next-door neighbors for this one, but I like this song, even if the dude singing it is almost never my cup of tea. No, I'll never be an Andy Williams fan, but I can't help liking "Happy Holidays", even if the lyrics irk me by saying "He'll be coming down the chimney down".

Sunday Stuff

Some links I've gathered of late:

:: Margarita Kareva is a Russia-based photographer who specializes in fantasy art photography. Her photographs beautifully portray women that have been transformed into fairytale princesses and witches..

These are amazing. Here is just one, but they are all captivating. These make me want to brew some tea and read something Russian.

:: Video mock-up of what will be the world's tallest roller-coaster.

The concept here is fascinating, actually; it's not just the tallest by putting the tallest climb into its initial hill, which is usually how coasters become the tallest. However, I wouldn't ride this thing unless I was offered a large amount of money to do so. It's not the height, but the nature of the thing: I don't like going upside-down, and I really don't like the feeling of never knowing where the hell I am in relation to anything else, which is what this coaster seems to have in spades.

:: I have to admit that I do still go into RadioShack a couple times a year. These days, it's almost always to buy new headphones, because I tend to like their selection of such. RadioShack is, of course, slowly circling the drain, although it's amazing how many years a big chain business can be "circling the drain" and still hang on. Sears and K-Mart are still around, obviously, despite having been on death's door for over a decade each. (There is the flip side of the coin, obviously: witness the very quick demise of Borders, which went from "struggling" to "stone dead" in just a couple of years.) RadioShack is always an odd kind of place, and I like shopping there a lot more if there are already people in there to occupy the time of the poor salespeople, who almost always end up staring at me if I'm alone.

Anyway, here's an article in which a guy who worked there years ago describes what it was like during his tenure. He describes a barren, soul-less, amoral hellscape of epic retail proportions:

But as this company has spent the last decade-plus trying to save itself, the happiness of the employees has always been the first to go overboard. Its store managers are worked so hard that they become unhappy, half-awake shadows of themselves. Labor laws have been brazenly ignored. Untold hours of labor haven't been paid for (when I quit, on good terms and with two weeks' notice, they withheld my final paychecks for months and wouldn't tell me why). Lawyers have been sent to shut down websites that have bad things to say about RadioShack. Employees who make a few dimes over minimum wage are pressured, shamed, and yelled at as though they're brokering million-dollar deals.

RadioShack is a rotten place to work, generally not a very good place to shop, and an untenable business to run. Everyone involved loses

Youch. Compared to that, working for Pizza Hut seems like an idyllic heaven.

:: Frozen, one year later. Wow. I find it hard to believe that the movie is only one year old, because it was sunk its hooks into the popular culture in a way that few Disney movies have, no matter how good they might be. Personally, I love Frozen (and I think I owe it a blog post), but it's strange: I was barely aware of its existence when it was first released, and I only started hearing about it when its DVD and Blu-ray releases were quite near, because that is when my social media starting exploding with friends of mine absolutely thrilled to finally get their copies of the movie. And since we don't have young children, we were never subjected to endless singing of "Let It Go" and "Do You Wanna Build a Snowman", so there's that.

Anyway, what I really love about Frozen is the fact that the story is about two young Princesses who are plunged into a very strange circumstance, and through it all they worry about their own agency. Now I wonder why I find a tale like that so compelling....

More next week!

The Millennium Falcon Flies Again!

Unless you live in some kind of cave, you're aware that there's a new Star Wars movie coming out in a year, and that the first teaser trailer erupted upon the world today.

And if you're not aware of those things, hey! There's a new Star Wars movie coming out in a year, and the first teaser trailer erupted upon the world today!

Here's the trailer:


And here's a breakdown, shot-by-shot.

A few thoughts:

:: I like the look of the new hero (?) and the heroine (?). A stormtrooper unhelmeted, and the lady who rides the odd-looking speeder bike.

:: The tech looks Star Warsish, but also different: the R2-unit-like droid with the rolling body, for one, and the heavy-duty speeder bike.

:: X-wing fighters roaring across a lake: cool!

:: OK, this particular thing seems to be generating the most discussion I'm seeing online, which is very weird considering this film is the seventh in a series of space opera flicks that feature more and more gonzo weaponry each time out. I'm referring to the Sith lightsaber we see ignited, by the shadowy figure in the forest; it appears to have two little lightsaber wristguard things, which is indeed rather odd. But we only catch a glimpse of this weapon, so maybe there's logic here that we don't know yet.

:: The trailer sounds like Star Wars, not just the ships, but the sound of the speeder bike and the Imperial droid language heard in the background as we see the unhelmeted stormtrooper.

:: Finally: the Millennium Falcon. Wow. Even with the arrival of the Prequels, I never thought I'd see that ship on the big screen again! The longest continuous shot in the trailer, which is as it should be, as that's the biggest payoff. (By the way: Remember how in the Battle of Endor, Lando got the Falcon's dish antenna knocked off while navigating the Death Star's superstructure? It's been replaced with a sleeker square dish!

And just because I'm curious, I'm sure it's already been linked over at Metafilter, so let's see how many comments it takes before someone rips on the Prequels or George Lucas! Answer: Technically, zero, since the poster who links the trailer in the first place gets it right out of the way! But in the comments proper (which number 205 as of this writing): It happens in the very first comment, and then the thread devolves from there into a lot of folks whose faith in everything has been wrecked by three movies they didn't like (and yet they still watch the trailer and comment a lot). Fancy that.

I guess it's still true:


Anyway, I'm excited. I've noted many a time that while I had problems with JJ Abrams's Star Trek movies, his direction was not one of them, and neither was his cast. I maintain my optimism pretty much because I did not hate the Prequels, and because somebody had the good sense to keep Orci and Kurtzman (the writers who are in the process of ruining Trek) the hell away from Star Wars.

Obviously, we'll see -- but my hopes are high.

Magic Friday!

Maybe we should stop calling it "Black Friday". I mean, if we take the day after Thanksgiving as the de facto start of the Christmas season, and if we consider the Christmas season to be the year's most magical period (and I certainly, absolutely do), then maybe we should call it "Magic Friday". Just a thought that popped into my head while listening to this piece of music by John Williams: "Flight to Neverland", a concert arrangement of several of his themes from the movie Hook.


Happy Magic Friday, folks!

Thanks, given: Things I'm thankful for

Wow! I didn't mean to go quite this long without saying anything in this space, but the recovery from the snow storm led to a number of very busy days, both at work and at home. What small writing time I've found, I've devoted to Princesses In SPACE!!! III (not the actual title), in a now-almost-certainly-futile effort to stay caught up with NaNoWriMo. Alas, it's probably not to be. But anyway, we soldier on! Here is my annual list of Things For Which I Am Thankful.

Bib overalls, writing, Star Wars, Hayao Miyazaki, Guy Gavriel Kay, John Williams, Person of Interest, Sarah Shahi, Lois Macmaster Bujold, Outlander, Veronica Mars, Enrico Colantoni, Adele, Idina Menzel, Kristen Stewart, "Let It Go", Arrested Development, chicken dances, Freaks and Geeks, Ithaca, Cayuga Lake, the Rochester Lilac Festival, fleece pullovers, scarves, retired racing greyhounds, our new house, a room for all my books, George Lucas, Gordon Ramsay, Hector Berlioz, Sergei Rachmaninov, Wicked, showtunes, raisin bran, The Oatmeal, the Sterling Renaissance Festival, antique shopping, taking ridiculous numbers of selfies, Guardians of the Galaxy, discovering that a coworker and I have the same second-favorite Madonna song, handing copies of Stardancer to my friends, Asian Star (our favorite local Chinese restaurant), Arriba Tortilla (our favorite local Mexican restaurant), Firefly (our local cupcake joint), Firefly (the teevee show), Castle and Beckett, A Prairie Home Companion, Car Talk (thanks for the memories, Tommy!), snow, sun, learning to live with a dog, watching two cats learning to live with a dog, drinking rum, single-malt Scotch, science, the stars, getting the occasional pie in the face, holding The Wife's hand, listening to The Daughter play music and video games, the feeling of getting home, the sense that I've figured out the plot, life, the Universe, and everything.

May your Thanksgiving be bountiful and grand!

The blanketing of the world, part deux

Oy.

That was fun.

And by "fun", I mean, "This is the kind of shit that makes people want to live in weird places whose names end with 'exas' or 'zona' or 'ida' or 'arolina'."

The lake-effect snow that started the other day? It just kept on coming...for three days. My town has received over 70 inches of snow, and other places nearby have received even more than that.

At least our personal larders were well and truly stocked, so at no point have been even close to going hungry. We never lost power, and our heat has been fine (especially once we saw warnings about the exhaust vents on high-efficiency furnaces, and started making a major priority of keeping them clear). I haven't been to work since Monday, which stinks, but it is, as they say, "what it is". Not a big thing in the greater picture.

How did we occupy our time? Reading, fretting, hanging on the Interwebs. Making geeky jokes about Imperial walkers in my backyard and more Frozen references than anyone need hear. Oh, and shoveling. Lots of shoveling. Holy shit, the shoveling.

The storm came in two "waves", with about twelve hours between the first wave (about 4-5 feet) and the second (another 2-3 feet). So, after the first wave we dug out as much as we could, just to give ourselves a fighting chance of digging out after the second. Shoveling that much snow is really hard, not just because it's difficult to begin with, but when the snow piles get to be almost as tall as you are, it gets hard to figure out where to put the stuff as you shovel it. As it is, I have completely barricaded both of our garage doors, so we won't be getting out of those any time soon. (We haven't been using a garage for a car at all, so that's not an issue until Tuesday, when I have to take the garbage out.)

And then there was the stuff at the foot of the driveway, the Plow Pile, which is the broken clumps of icy stuff blasted up by the passing snow plows. We're lucky that our street was plowed each and every day this week, when other people we know still haven't seen a plow. (We're wondering if some town official or another lives on our street.) That was insanely hard to shovel, but the guy next door let us use his snowblower for a bit, which did help. The kicker there is that a snowblower actually came with the house! It's in my parents' garage. One main order of business, once we're cleared out, is me figuring out if it works, how to use it, and getting it into my garage, so I'll be able to deploy it in everyone's favor. I'm not generally a big fan of snowblowers, but they have their moments.

Let's see, what else? Not much. All those snow days were stressful and worrisome, which meant that they were awful for writing. I don't have much hope of being a NaNoWriMo winner this year, but them's the breaks. Princesses III is still on the way!

And now, because I'm tired and I don't feel like writing a nice transition to the "here's a bunch of pictures" part of this post...here's a bunch of pictures. I'll arrange them roughly chronologically so you can see the progression. And note the dee-oh-gee action; turns out he loves this stuff. What a weird dog.

Oh wait! One geeky thing that struck me as funny, although no one reacted when I posted it a couple of times to social media. Our "official" snowfall total ended up being 71 inches, which I decided to convert into other units. I thought about light-nanoseconds and other such items, but then I settled on...the smoot. What's a smoot, you ask? Well, fifty years ago, some guys were pledging a fraternity at MIT, and as part of their pledge, they were ordered (MIT is legendary for its pranks) to measure a local bridge, using as their measuring stick a guy named Smoot. Mr. Smoot is 67 inches tall, so that's one smoot. Therefore, my town officially received 1.0597 smoots of snow.

And now, pictures.






















So, there you go. Snowmageddon 2014 draws to a close. Next up? A massive warm-up might lead to flooding! Huzzah!!!

Now for Kindle!!!

As you can see, Stardancer is now available for Kindle! It is exclusive to Kindle right now, but I did enroll it for Kindle Unlimited, so if you're partaking of that service, you can read it for free. (Just make sure you read at least 10 percent of the book, so I get the credit for it, money-wise!) And if you don't have a Kindle, get the Kindle app for whatever device you do have!

The paperback is still available, if that's your preference.

Enjoy!

(And yes, I will be getting back to less book-and-writing posting at some point. This month has been exciting, though!)

Something for Thursday (Mike Nichols edition)

I see that director Mike Nichols has died, which is obviously a deep shame. I don't think I disliked a single movie of his that I've seen, although I haven't seen them all. (Well, Regarding Henry wasn't all that great, but it had some good moments.) My personal favorite film of his is Working Girl, the comedy starring Melanie Griffith and Harrison Ford, which I've always felt is a pretty underrated movie. Griffith is terrific in it, and the film was made during the period when Harrison Ford was really firing on all cylinders.

Anyway, here is the title song from that movie, "Let the River Run", sung by the great Carly Simon.

A Random Wednesday Conversation Starter

Can any of you drop by with a snowplow and maybe a pizza?

OK, that's not fair. Real question: Name your favorite fictional spy, secret agent, or other such operative!

The blanketing of the world

Or at least my little corner of it.

Over the last few days, local meteorologists have been sounding the alarm that today could potentially bring some significant lake-effect snow to the region. Lake-effect snow, for those unfamiliar with such things, is snow that is fueled by cold winds traversing the still-warm and open waters of a large body of water, like Lake Erie. Those winds pick up moisture, and then when they hit land, they dump it, usually in narrow bands of nastiness that are often just a few miles wide. It's not uncommon for towns in the band to get a lot of snow while towns outside the band, just a few miles away, get almost none.

Lake-effect snow bands often start in the Buffalo metro area and almost always, after a few hours, shift southward into what's called "Ski Country" in these parts, so unless you live in those regions, usually you can count on a lake-effect storm not lasting all that long, even if it dumps a good amount of snow.

That, however, is not the case with this one. The lake-effect band has not budged, as of this writing. It started very late last night, and I got up at 4am to check things out. At that point, this is what the local weather map looked like. The blue area is the lake-effect band, and at this point it had looked like this for roughly four hours.

We live right smack in the middle of that. The blue area there is the lake-effect snow band.

Eight hours later, I took another photo of the weather map:

Ayup. The snow band has gotten a bit wider, but other than that, it's in the exact same position it was nearly twelve hours ago when it fired up.

We are getting absolutely socked here at Casa Jaquandor. Virtually every town on my side of the City of Buffalo has imposed travel bans; there are snow plow trucks stuck in ditches. Our street got plowed a couple of times, earlier, but nothing since, because what's the point?

I've seen my share of big snowfalls here, but this will be right up there with the biggest I've ever seen. Meanwhile, friends of mine who live less than twenty miles away are posting photos of their snow-dusted front lawns, blades of grass still visible, under sunny skies.

The following photo has been making the Buffalo social media rounds this morning, taken by a passenger on one of the last flights to actually get out of Buffalo Niagara International Airport. When I say that lake-effect snow can form very sharp lines between clear skies and snowy doom, I am not exaggerating.

That big expanse of gray at the right is Lake Erie, and at the lower-right corner is Downtown Buffalo. Casa Jaquandor? Well, we've been swallowed up by that enormous cloud of white doom. But hey, I still have electricity and the Interwebs and food and rum and Scotch and overalls and blankets and kitties. We'll make it through!

The Empire needs to quit searching my backyard, though.

I am SO behind the times....

Good talk, good talk! See you out there!

A frequent feature of the message boards at the NaNoWriMo website is all the "pep talks": brief essays on writing, sometimes by major authors which are then sent out to the entire NaNo community, and sometimes by regular participants which are then beamed to the local area forums. One great example of the latter ran yesterday, by a fine woman who goes by the Twitter handle So_I_SAW. I asked her permission to run it here, and she graciously conceded, so here it is:

The world doesn’t need my novel. Let me say that again: the world doesn’t need my novel. I have no delusions of grandeur. I won’t be writing the next Harry Potter (or insert whatever book/series in your genre that fits). I don’t think I’ll be writing a game-changing novel.

So why do NaNoWriMo at all? Good question, particularly since I’ve yet to “win”, heck I have yet to finish any of the writing ideas I’ve started.

It’s simple really. I need my novel. I need the outlet. I need the story. I need the characters I live with to come out onto the page so I can re-read about them whenever I want. I need the story that I wish someone else would write. I am my primary audience. I need this.

Doing NaNo gives me a chance to refocus. There are so many authors, self or traditional published, who dismiss the event all together. If we really wanted to write we’d do it all the time. We’re not trying hard enough to make time. No novel is ever truly complete in a month. (To that last one I say, no duh. This month is about writing, not fixing and editing.) But to the other comments? I think the statements are unfair. Life gets in the way sometimes. We move, we have jobs and bills, and families. We experience creative drain. Illness. Stress. Or sometimes we just can’t write. Personally I had a few life events that took significant time and energy away from every other aspect of my life. My marriage was falling apart, I was unemployed and struggling with severe depression and a loss of a family member. It was too much all at once. I couldn’t make myself write, read, heck, I could hardly form sentences some days. The truth is, sometimes we just can’t write and hearing we aren’t trying hard enough is unhelpful. Take the break and come back later. And if you’re like me, re-read your old writings for a good laugh.

Doing NaNo allows me to try. Even better, I can do it knowing that there’s a whole world of people also trying. It’s less lonely. There’s a nice satisfaction to adding to my word count and our region’s word count. I can refocus my ideas, have a place to update my stats, complain, and get inspired with other people doing the same thing. I get a touch of healthy, encouraging pressure by participating. I’m reminded that I need this. I can practice leaving all the things that have previously held me from writing.

The world doesn’t need my novel.

But I do.

Every thing in the history of the world that's been worth doing has had to start somewhere, and that the world doesn't always make a huge deal of things doesn't mean they're not worth doing. So go ahead and start!

Resetting the Clock

Lord knows I had my issues with the Aaron Sorkin series Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, but there are a few moments from it that stick in my head, the best being in the second episode, I think. Matthew Perry is playing the late night comedy show's head writer, and he's moved into the office vacated by the previous guy, who had just been fired for a live on-air rant about how awful teevee is, or something. That's not important. What's important is the the old writer had a digital clock on the wall that counted down the time to the next episode's airing, which meant that he had a constant reminder of how he had to always be working.

Well, in the second episode, our writer guy and his director buddy (played by Bradley Whitford) put together the first episode of their era in charge of the show. It's a long, slow struggle, and they barely pull it off. The very last scene has the Perry character realizing that they've done it, they've got the show finished and it's good and it's on the air and it's all over -- and then Perry happens to turn to the "Countdown to Next Episode" clock, just in time to see it reset and start counting down again.

That's it. Moment's over. Back in the saddle.

Or, a wonderful moment (one of many) in the best baseball movie ever, Bull Durham. Our pitcher, Nuke LaLoosh (Tim Robbins), has just had a pretty good inning, retiring the side in order after spending most of his early season struggling with his control. He comes back to the dugout and takes a seat next to his veteran catcher, Crash Davis (Kevin Costner):

NUKE: I was great, huh?

CRASH: Your fastball's up, your curveball's hangin'. In the Show, they would've ripped you.

NUKE: Can't you just let me enjoy the moment?

CRASH: Moment's over.

My point? Stardancer is out (and really, if you haven't ordered a copy yet, what are you waiting for!), and I'll have more to do to sell it and market it and bask in its inevitable glory, but for now, the clock has reset, and the moment's over.

Time to keep writing.

It's a good think I happen to love writing, but I'd still like to punch the person who said, "The reward for doing good work is the opportunity to do more work."

Now, if you'll excuse me...I'm off to do some work. Sigh!

Those three little words....

AVAILABLE FOR PURCHASE!




Yes, today is the day. I'll have more to say later on, but for now: Stardancer is now available for purchase on Amazon.com.

Currently the book is available in print only, but the Kindle e-version will follow in two or three weeks (more likely two), with other platforms to follow once any exclusivity periods run out.

As I say, more later.

For now, STARDANCER is available for purchase!!!

With thanks

Thanks to all who have served in our military, in wartime and peacetime, with hopes that as the future comes to pass, there will ever be more of the latter and less of the former.

T-minus One!

Oh wow...One day to STARDANCER! How to wrap it up? Well, there is a teen romance aspect to the book, so...Danny and Sandy will finish out the countdown.


Tomorrow, folks! Tomorrow, all things change!

T-minus Two!

Two days to Stardancer! Adam Ant and "Goody Two Shoes".

What's in a title?

So I was scrolling through Instagram the other day, and I happened upon a new photo on the Official Star Wars Instagram feed:

And thus was the Actual Title of Star Wars Episode VII introduced to the world. Interesting!

Jason is less than thrilled with this title:

I hate to be one those fans, you know, the ones who seem to derive more pleasure from bitching about the thing they supposedly love than, you know, actually enjoying it, but I have to admit I am… not impressed. It’s become somewhat axiomatic that the prequel titles — The Phantom Menace, Attack of the Clones, and Revenge of the Sith –  were ridiculous and clunky (and there are even some who say the same of the original trilogy titles, A New Hope, The Empire Strikes Back, and Return of the Jedi), but I disagree. I liked them from the start, because they evoked the saga’s origins in the old Flash Gordon cliffhanger serials of the 1930s, whose episodes had titles like “The Unseen Peril” (sound familiar?), “The Prisoner of Mongo,” and “Doom of the Dictator.” They have an enthusiastically pulpy sound that I personally find appealing. The Force Awakens, on the other hand… the tone is off, to my ear. It sounds very much like the title of a fan film to me, so many of which seem to be sooooo self-consciously serious, at least in my experience of them.

I can kind-of see his point. It does sound slightly generic, and besides, can the Force really be said to awaken, if it really is an energy field created by all living things? "Awakens" seems to imply that the Force can go dormant, which isn't entirely in line with my understanding of things. But anyway, I suppose we'll see.

Mainly, I'm just bugged that they missed so obvious an opportunity to stick to the X of the Y pseudo-tradition in Star Wars titles. They didn't even have to change the concept: Star Wars Episode VII: Awakening of the Force.

Titles of series items are interesting things. Some creators take an approach of similarity or formula when titling things, so we get the Indiana Jones films being Indiana Jones and the X, although the less said about the ham-fisted retconning of the first Indy film into Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark, the better. The Harry Potter books all take a similar approach: Harry Potter and the [Magical MacGuffin], and Robert Ludlum's three-word titles (The Parsifal Mosaic, The Matarese Circle, The Matlock Paper) are true-form things. On the other end of the scale, there are the James Bond movies and titles, which have no traits in common from one to the next.

Teevee shows sometimes do interesting things with titles. Every episode of Friends was titled "The One With the..." or "The One When...", in keeping with the way a lot of people of that age describe teevee shows. ("Hey, ever see the one when Ross does that dumb thing?") Remington Steele always had the word "Steele" in its episode titles, and The Mentalist always includes a color.

My approach? I don't try to be consistent from one title to the next. Each project has its own title, even projects within a series. It's just better that way for me.

T-Minus Three!

Three days to Stardancer! Here's my favorite song from a 90s compilation CD of various rock acts covering the Schoolhouse Rock songs. It's Blind Melon with "Three is a Magic Number".

I gotta buy some blue Sharpies

Yesterday I got home to a box from UPS. Here's what was inside:

Oh yeah, babe. This thing is happening.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to buy the Sharpies. (And a bunch of groceries, because the family's gotta eat.)

T-Minus Four!

Four days to Stardancer! Here's a bit of film music, which may at first seem to be the wrong number, but the title of this particular track is "The Fourth Musketeer". It's from Michael Kamen's score to the 1993 film The Three Musketeers.

T-Minus Five!

Five days to Stardancer! Let's hear from Mr. Sinatra.

Something for Thursday

Time for some Jerry Goldsmith, I think. Here's a suite from his score to Total Recall, which contains some of his finest SF action music.

T-minus Six!

Six days to Stardancer! I couldn't find a song I really like for six, so here's Kermit the Frog reporting on the creation of the Six-Dollar Man!

T-minus Seven!

Seven days to Stardancer! Let's hear some Elmer Bernstein!

T-minus eight!

Eight days to Stardancer! Take it away, Beatles!

T-minus Nine!

You know what we need? A musical countdown of the days until Stardancer's release! It's nine days out, so here's Dolly Parton with "Nine to Five".

Sunday Burst of Strange, Goofy Stuff

Let's go!

:: I saw this on Facebook, and it's pretty hilarious. You have to have the sound up, because the commentary provided by the two guys recording this construction-site mishap is what makes the video. I have no idea what the malfunctioning machine is or what it does. I do not care.


:: Want to heat your house with a woodburning stove but you don't want to bother chopping those trees you've felled into firewood? Fear not! This wood stove burns entire tree trunks!

:: When I'm drilling holes in walls and stuff at work, I'm always a bit nervous that I might hit something important. Like...a train. Wow.

More next week!

Thoughts on owning a dee-oh-gee

I suspect that every single family in America that has had the experience of moving from the restrictive life of apartment living to the freedom of a house with a yard has had some version of this conversation:

ME: We're moving into a house!

KID: Yay! That means we can get a dog!

Now, depending on what kind of person you are, the bit immediately following that exchange can go in several directions. Ours was like this:

ME: Wait, what?

WIFE: Oh yeah. We're getting a dog.

KID: Yay!

ME: Wait, what?

In other words: we now have a dog.

I am not a dog person and never have been. This is something I've noticed about America over the years: you're allowed to like or dislike cats as you see fit. Nobody bats an eye if you say, "I don't like cats." However, saying "I don't like dogs" is often akin to saying something like "Apple pie is terrible stuff" or "Man, that Benedict Arnold guy is sure a misunderstood figure" or "Jeez, who needs grandmothers". Disliking dogs is simply not something you're really allowed to do in this country. The sentiment was summed up perfectly a while back by Jenna Woginrich:

I'm also not a very sensitive person when it comes to folks who dislike dogs. I understand them about as much as I understand folks who throw up when they are hugged. They gross me out.

See, that's me...although perhaps I wouldn't so much say that I dislike dogs as feel very uncomfortable around them. It's probably a combination of things. I never once owned a dog as a kid (and frankly never much wanted one, either), so I rarely had any chance to get comfortable with the idea of a large beast coming at me. There were several instances when I was bitten by someone else's little asshole of a dog, which didn't help, and to this day, I am generally deeply suspicious of any dog whose size is on par with a cat's. I find barking to be an unpleasant sound, and a dog's whining makes me reach for the earplugs or headphones. And this whole business of "doggie kisses"? No. Just...no.

(By the way, I don't quote Ms. Woginrich up there to pick on her or call her out or anything like that. She's actually one of my favorite writers, constantly sounding a ringing call to the idea that if there's a life you want you live and you've not already living it, then get up and go make it happen right now, even if that means you figure out the money stuff as you go. But as wonderfully as she writes, I know that I'm not cut out for the life she has chosen. I do hear the call of nature and earth, but I also hear the call of cities and the stars. To be honest, I'm not really sure what life I'm meant for, which may be why I'm so driven to create worlds in my head where I can live. But that's another topic for another time. Today we're talking about dogs.)

Now, I don't want to give the impression that I hate dogs, because I don't. I've known a few dogs that I've liked, here and there, throughout the years. I had a friend in high school who had two large dogs, one of whom was old and a bit addled and slow-moving (so of course his name was "Flash"). My mother-in-law owned a terrific spaniel named Spanky, who one year when we were visiting finally "got the kitty" he'd been stalking for a while. (The "kitty" was cat-sized creature with black fur and a white stripe on his back, if you take my meaning.) My sister has owned a bunch of dogs, one of whom was a nifty animal named Homer, and the old youth pastor at our church once had a really cool dog whom all the kids adored. We also had a family friend with a golden retriever who was a lot of fun. So I do have it in me to like specific dogs, and it turns out that every dog I've liked has been a big dog, for the most part. If I was to own a small dog, it better be like Verdell in As Good As It Gets.

Back to the business at hand: the decision was made to look into getting a dog. I wasn't completely on board with this, obviously, but I wasn't dead-set opposed to it, either. It just seemed like quite a big change to me. The Wife did her research, and she came to the belief that the best dog for us would be a retired racing greyhound. We wee a lot of these in our travels; local greyhound adoption groups often host "Meet the dogs!" events in places like the local malls and the County Fair, and we've long admired the way these dogs look, even if they make me really uncomfortable. It turns out that greyhounds tend to be quiet and well-behaved, and quite a few of them are cat-friendly, which is obviously an absolute necessity. We contacted the local group and started the ball rolling.

I don't know how all greyhound adoption groups work, but ours puts quite a lot of thought and effort into things. They go down south and pick up retired dogs from the racing tracks; then they bring them back up north for adoption. When you first tell them you're interested, they set up a "house visit" in which they bring a couple of their own dogs just to show you what it's like to have a dog that big in your home, and during the visit, they take note of circumstances that will help determine which dog you should get. We needed one who would be calm most of the time, comfortable in our backyard, and naturally, good with cats. Not all greyhounds are those things, it turns out, and I greatly appreciate that our local group doesn't just bring back a bunch of dogs and hand them out like candy. It doesn't, and shouldn't, work that way.

That's how we got our dog. We didn't get to pick him out; he was the one that best fit our needs, based on his behavior as it was observed by his foster family. I don't know how it is for all greyhound adoption organizations, but the one we worked with really does want all dogs to succeed in homes for which they are well-suited. We got our notice a month or so ago that a dog matching our profile had been identified, and that we'd get him on Sunday night. Thus, we became dog owners.

I, of course, proceeded to panic.

Hey, whaddaya want from me, anyway?

A lot of people I know who own dogs joked that I was soon to become a dog person, to which my response was the same each time: "No, I'm not going to become a 'dog person'. I'm going to become a 'this dog person'." I figured that my experience would be a lot like becoming a father. I have never liked being around children, so when we had The Daughter, I realized that I would still be uncomfortable around children, with the exception of my own. And that's pretty much how it still is. Having a dog of our own would mean that I would like this dog just fine. Your dog? Keep it at a distance until I get to know it. And maybe even after that. That first night, though, was tough -- particularly the hours before the dog's arrival, hours during which it seemed as if every single Facebook friend I have who owns a dog decided that it was time to post their latest horror stories. Ouch.

We've been at it a bit more than a month now, so we're finally settling into what life with the dog is like. And it's...interesting. And fun. And scary. And sometimes a bit surreal.

Our dog's name is Hurricane; we call him "Cane" for short. Along with his documentation was a listing of his results as a racer, and it turns out that he wasn't very good. He only raced seven or eight times, but he never placed higher than seventh in those. Now, we have a pretty nice large yard that is bound by a four-foot fence, so in nice weather (not so much anymore) we take him out back and let him run around. When he gets a good head of steam going, I can't believe how fast he is, so I keep wondering just how fast the six dogs were who finished ahead of him. It's amazing how fast he runs. He also loves toys that squeak, and he will just happily carry around his squeaker-ball in his mouth, making it squeak a lot. He has already destroyed two squeaker-balls. (By the way, a four-foot fence is fine because greyhounds aren't jumpers. Other big dogs that are jumpers would clear this fence with no trouble at all!)

I've also discovered that taking a dog for walks is a very pleasant thing to do (other than having to clean up the poo, of course). Cane is a fairly decent walker, when he's moving; he puts his head down and keeps on going. Until, that is, he finds a scent, and then he stops dead in his tracks and sniffs it. This can go on a long time, until I intercede and pull him away from the smell. Cane is also terrified of other dogs.

This comes from his early life, I suppose; he was bred for racing, so the only dogs he knows are other greyhounds. Dogs of any other type scare him, and when they're nearby he'll start whimpering and whining. This happens even when we pass house where the dogs are inside. He has met some dogs that he'll be friendly with, but generally, other dogs scare him. I find this surprising, as Cane is quite a large dog, and yet he is terrified of nearly every other dog. I did not expect this. (He is not afraid of other greyhounds. I took him to a greyhound "playdate" type of thing last week, and he and the others were social, which means they stood around and looked at each other. Occasionally there was a bit of butt-sniffing, but mostly, just a lot of "Oh hey there. Whassup, dog.")

Let's see, what else? Well, for someone who is accustomed to cats and their relative independence (as long as you fill the food dish at regular intervals), dogs are a different kind of work. We feed him at certain times, but we don't leave food down. He gets treats when he gets home from walks or at other times when he's behaving nicely, and we've discovered that he loves popcorn. There are also these things called "Kongs" (the company is called Kong and makes a lot of dog-stuff, but generally the name "Kong" refers to this item), which is basically a hollowed out piece of thick, tough rubber. It's shaped like a snowman, and you fill it with dog food ("kibble", which I always though part of the brand name, "Kibbles-n-Bits") and then close it off by smearing peanut butter over the opening. Then you freeze it, and when it's time for bed (which involves putting Cane in his crate), we toss the Kong in with him. It gives him something to do while he winds down for the night, and puts something in his stomach so he's not whining at 5:30 am because he's famished. That's happened.

Oh, and the cats. We have had almost no trouble at all with them adjusting to the presence of a dog, or vice-versa. The cats' attitude seems to be, "OK, there's this big thing living here now", and Cane's attitude seems to be, "OK, sure, whatever. Can we go for a walk now?" Cane has vocalized at them a couple of times, when they've come too close while he's eating or enjoying something yummy, but for the most part, nothing at all has happened. He's made no effort to chase them or menace them in any way. The cats, for their part, sure do like Cane's nice, big water bowl. So much so, in fact, that we may retire their current water bowl.

It took Cane a little while to get accustomed to things here. He went from his racing life to living with two different foster families and then finally to us, all in about a month. He does seem to be a part of the family now, and I'm fine with that. I like this dog.

I'm still suspicious of yours, though.

Some pictures:







I have a friend who is a huge Disney fan. She said, on the basis of this next photo, that his back markings look like a hidden Mickey. Now that's all I can see when I look at his back!



This next one I quoted as any good Seinfeld fan would: "And you want to be my latex salesman!"



Julio saw this twitchy thing that looked like it might be fun to play with. Cane, realizing his tail was entertaining the cat, thought otherwise. Julio struck his best "Who, me?" pose as Cane gave him the "Dude, really?" look.

It's not easy, going to the stars.

What a bad week for space travel.

But there will be better weeks, as surely as there will be worse weeks. We've never turned back before, and I don't think we will now, either.

Let the NaNoWriMo laser-like focus begin! Session #1 is in the books, and my word count is a bit over 1700. Not too shabby. On target, and all that. It helps that this year's book is Princesses III (not the actual title), which is starting at long, long last to coalesce in my head a bit. Oddly, I wrote the last scene first. Weird, I know, but the thing with the last scene is...well, I can't really say that, can I? Book III needs to get done now, though, if it's going to be available for purchase in two years!

Onward and upward! Zap! Pow!!

A Very Public Service Message: Don't Order Pizza Tonight

(An annual repost)

Hey folks, I've mentioned this before on some previous Halloween's, but I think it bears repeating. I write from my experience as a one-time employee of one of our nation's many fine pizza-serving and delivering establishments. Basically, tonight's Halloween, so you might consider refraining from ordering a pizza for delivery this evening. Why?

For one thing, since there are tons of kids about on the streets, with many of those dressed in dark clothing, many pizza delivery places will be quoting abnormally long delivery times, both because business might be up and because they may well be instructing their drivers to take as long as they need to deliver. Halloween is NOT the night to order a pizza and expect quick service. Believe me.

Secondly, if your household is not observing Halloween and will therefore be leaving all of your outside lighting off in order to dissuade trick-or-treaters, please oh please don't order a pizza for delivery. Delivering pizzas at night isn't rocket science, but it's not ridiculously easy, either, and running deliveries on Halloween is actually pretty stressful when you're trying to watch out for kids and figure out what house to go to. And if your lights are off, it makes your house even harder to find.

If you still feel that you just must order a pizza for delivery, despite the above, then at the very least, have some sympathy for the driver and increase your tip accordingly. Or just give him a tip at all, for you cheap jerks out there.

Or, you could just go get a pizza yourself, showing up early at the pizza place so you can eat before going out trick-or-treating or whatever. But if you do that, remember, you're not the only person thinking along those lines; the pizza place will likely be getting an abnormally large number of orders significantly earlier than usual, which will have the expected slowing effect on service.

So, if pizza is on the menu tonight, adjust your service expectations accordingly and don't be jerks. Or, just make it yourself!

Explodey Spaceshippy Badness

Here's what the Antares launch site looks like, post-disaster.


When I refer to "explodey spaceshippy goodness", I'm talking about the actiony bits of a good piece of space opera fiction. In real life, exploding spaceships is not a good thing!

And remember, let's not make fun of this failure or use it as ammunition to mock our space program, OK? There's a reason we use the phrase "Hey, this ain't rocket science", so let's show a little respect to the people who are actually doing rocket science.

Something for Thursday

Need some music for Halloween? I've got you covered!




















Plus, if you want more, check out this list of the creepiest country music murder ballads.

A Random Wednesday Conversation Starter

Does it bug you when teenagers come trick-or-treating in fairly lame costumes?

Chapter 3!!!

I've just posted the third, and final, sample chapter from Stardancer. Go check it out! In two weeks, the book itself will be available. I can't believe it's this close!