My Best Salute

I have told this story more than once, but a search indicates I haven't told it on my blog, so here it is:

My career in the Navy (January 1981 - June 1982) was not my finest hour, much less the Navy's, but it had its moments.

One was when I was crossing the grounds of the Naval Regional medical Center at Portsmouth, Virginia, and saw a person approaching.  My thoughts were, approximately,

Officer approaching, will need to salute . . .

She's a Captain, better make it look good . . .

She's a Line officer [i.e., not a lawyer or a nurse, but a "real" officer, the kind who commands ships], that's interesting . . .

In order to have risen to Captain as a Line officer, she must have either been one of the first ever commissioned, or else have risen quite rapidly through the ranks.  In either case, she must be something pretty special . . . .

I gave her the smartest salute I had in me.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "She deserved it."\\

A Small But Wonderful Thing Happened Today

I almost didn't notice it at the time.

I was telling Gideon a "Gideon story" (I tell him a lot of stories, and Kathe is after me to start writing them down -- I know she's right...) in which Gideon was with a group of carolers.  They sang "Stille Nacht", and Gideon told the group that his Dad had written a book about the Christmas Truce.

Gideon interrupted to ask if it was true that I had written a book "with pages, that people read?"  I told him, not many people so far, but I had hopes that it would sell more eventually.  I opened my laptop and showed him the illustrations I had used, and he pointed to one of my advertisements and said, "I have seen that!"

  

 

 

So I guess now he knows it's true.  In the morning, I will sit down with him and page through the copy I had made at CreateSpace.

I'll try to find a passage from the book that I can read to him.  

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Maybe the soccer game?"\\

The Christmas Mutiny, Carbon-based Form

I just got in the mail a proof copy of The Christmas Mutiny from Amazon's CreateSpace. Now I can show people a physical copy. I expect to show it around a lot.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "It looks pretty good."\\

Tinnitus

My tinnitus began in early childhood, in the form of occasional sustained notes (at the time, I thought I must be especially sensitive to noises from electronics), and an occasional loud noise, swelling rapidly and then fading rapidly, very much like feedback.

It evolved into a frequent sound like cicadas buzzing (and which I long thought was), and these days is a more or less constant chorus ranging from a sound rather like the leaking of air from an almost-blocked sinus to a large field of cicadas.  That nasty feedback noise seems to be gone for good, though (touch wood).

My recently taking a job in a noisy industrial environment probably isn't helping -- one more reason for me to find a new one ASAP. My hearing was never all that good, and I think the tinnitus is making that worse.

I am leery of taking the tinnitus medication called "Quietus".  I think Children of Men had it right about what sort of medication ought to have that name: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QYy80trSPSI

//The Magic Eight-Ball says: "Don't be silly, try it and see if it helps."\\

Happy Anniversary, Kathe

Love You, Dad

My father will always be with me.  Like today, when I was handing over a check marked VOID in order to set up direct deposit for my paychecks, and I heard Dad's voice saying, "This is so much easier than in the old days, when you had to actually take a check and void on it".  Love you, Dad....

//The Magic Eight - Ball says, "He loves you, too."\\

Corvallis in 2063?

The other day, Kathe and I visited the "Corvallis in 2063" exhibit at the Arts Center. It showed various visions for the future in various media. Some of the model homes were very clever in design.
I was disappointed that it did not include a print of the famous painting of "Corvallis in 2057".


In the middle there was a table on which was a map of Corvallis. People were invited to place Post-It notes describing what they would like to see in the future. Among them was a suggestion of a municipal nuclear power plant. This was surrounded by several Post-Its saying things like "NO!"

I thought it over and came to a conclusion which I thought was worth sharing:

One day, we will have the technology that will allow us to build small nuclear power plants which are safe and efficient, but we probably won't build them for the same reason that we are unlikely ever to build personal jetpacks for commuting, zeppelins for passenger travel, or humanoid robots for household help. Not because these things are impossible, but because with the technology that makes them possible we can build other things that are more practical and useful.   //The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Predictions are always tricky, especially about the future."\\

My Laptop Died

Not a good thing, for my writing career or my mental equilibrium, neither of which is on a very good footing just now.

I wonder whether it can be repaired, or if I will have to replace it again.  Oh, well, neither one is really within my budget, anyway.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Kinda stinks, don't it?"\\

I'm Ready to Beg, Folks

Unemployed for close to two years, nobody is hiring, my books aren't selling.

If you have not bought one of my publications, please consider it. I personally think The Christmas Mutiny is a good story. I also think highly of my short stories "Hansel and Gretel Lost in the Bardo", "The Men Who Saved JFK" and my manual on massage technique, With a Friendly Touch, all of which are available for download at Amazon.com.

For the next seven days, if you e-mail me at john_m_burt@hotmail.com or text me at (541) 602-6026 to inform me that you have bought one of my stories, I will reply with 1) my personal thanks and 2) my new story "Dragons Live Forever", a 375-word flash piece which has not yet been offered to the public.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "You can always ask."\\

Makayla Kelley Burt

My first grandchild.


//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Let the stars beware."\\

Fortune Cookies

Kathe and I had a Chinese supper from Safeway. It was our first plausibly normal meal since her surgery. Did me a world of good, for sure.

My fortune: "What you will do matters. All you need is to do it." Okay.

Kathe's fortune: "Your happiness is before you, not behind you! Cherish it." I sure hope so.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "I suppose you noticed you were sitting right before her at the time...?"\\

Hold Kathe in the Light

After more than a week of pain and nausea, Kathe is now being admitted for emergency surgery. Looks to be appendicitis.

I'll post updates to my blog.

Anne Adjusts

Anne Hiler, my father's sister and last of her generation, is adjusting to widowhood as well as can be expected.

My mother is with her, and Kathe and I are checking in with her.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "It's okay if that's all you have to say."\\

Good Cookies

http://www.williams-sonoma.com/recipe/oatmeal-chocolate-chip-cookies.html

I make them for Kathe and me to eat on the paper route.

Still wish I could find Becca's recipe card for the recipe I used to use.

Or ask Becca about it....

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "She loved her mother. And she loved you."\\

A New Post at My Massage Blog

You might find it of interest, especially if you feel the weight of the world on your shoulders just now.

http://johnmburtlmt.blogspot.com/2013/02/the-shoulder-well.html

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Don't we all?"\\

Edublog Post

I found this while searching the phrase "Frankenstein's World", because that is the title of my next book and I was wondering what else people would find when searching for it.* I found the thoughts of someone reading the original novel, and a final post which expresses disappointment in the ending. My comment:
"I have to say I disagree with you about the ending of the original book. I think Frankenstein dying unavenged, and the monster likewise unavenged, is entirely appropriate, since what I have known of revenge tells me that even when it is 'successful', it is almost never satisfying.
"Clearly, though, many have disagreed, since I have not yet seen any dramatization or adaptation which has ended that way. The monster almost always kills Frankenstein and then dies himself, via a bolt of lightning (as in the original stage version) or in a fire (as in the 1931 Universal film) or literally fading away (as in the 1910 Edison film). The closest to the original ending that I have seen is a TV adaptation in which Frankenstein and the monster wrestle aboard Walton's ship and then fall through the ice to drown together."
In my own Frankenstein's World, I don't kill off either Frankenstein or his abandoned child. But I hope readers will find it satisfying.

*Mostly, references to a TV series called Once Upon a Time -- it looks interesting.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "There are as many Frankenstein's worlds as there are readers -- at the very least."\\

Light a Candle

Although Kathe and I haven't attended the Quaker Meeting in several years, we still get e-mails from them.
The other day, we heard that a Quaker had suffered a stroke. We have visited twice, talking with him and me rubbing his shoulders. Today, I read to him from a book about the peace witness movement. In one essay, the author said that the act of bearing witness was more often a candle held over an abyss than a bolt of lightning illuminating the landscape.
The thought occurred to me that if you lean over the abyss with a candle, you won't see very far, but anyone at the bottom will see your light, and know that someone is looking.
An isolated person will feel less lonely.
A despairing person will know someone cares.
A guilty person will know that the abyss does not hide everything.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Brighten up the corner you're in."\\

Meanwhile, The Ice Continues to Melt . . . .

[W]ith thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport.
Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain,
As in revenge, have suck'd up from the sea
Contagious fogs; which falling in the land
Have every pelting river made so proud
That they have overborne their continents:
The ploughman lost his sweat, and the green corn
Hath rotted ere his youth attain'd a beard...
The fold stands empty in the drowned field,
The human mortals want their winter here...
And thorough this distemperature we see
The seasons alter...the spring, the summer,
The childing autumn, angry winter, change
Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world,
By their increase, now knows not which is which....

We can't blame the fairies for this. It's us.

We are their parents and original.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "It is decidedly so."\\