Category Archives: Uncategorized

Sep 28 2011

A Turn at the Tiger’s Tongue

“Eyes and ears on!” from behind me.

I tap the side of my bulky ear protectors once more, hearing the hollow, tinny knocking. The crowd at my back dissolves into a sea of comforting murmurs. I shift nervously, foot to foot, my dress shoes covered in the newly mown lawn. As I breath deep to relax my nerves, I can feel the straps of my vest pull around my sides and shoulders.  This thing is supposed to be tight, but did I overdo it? A couple deep breaths and I forget about the tight vest and the grass on my shoes. I adjust my sunglasses once more.

I stare at my paper opponent nearly 12 yards ahead of me. He’s vaguely shaped like a human. He doesn’t stare back. He has no eyes. Just an unassuming x in his center, surrounded by larger concentric circles.

Ha ha. Good luck hitting me, amateur.

Just like the dartboard.  Just like the Wii. Just like the composite bow targets I’ve hit a hundred times before. Except, this is the real deal. This is police standard issue. This is real life.

The instructor walks the line pausing next to each of us.

“Keep it downrange!” he says, as he hands me the weapon. The voice is directive, but kind. He’s done this kind of thing before.

It’s heavy in my hand, small but solid – a .45 Caliber Heckler & Koch Compact, also known as the HK45. The slide is pulled back, exposing its insides. But these guts aren’t soft. It’s forged in shades of charcoal and black with smooth edges gleaming in the morning sunlight above us. The grip is snug in my hand. Its rough – like a cat’s tongue in my hand. But if it’s a cat, it must be a tiger.  This is no tabby. It’s a deadly, beautiful compact piece of steel. I steal another deep breath – in through the nose, softly out through my mouth. Be cool.

As I keep my black beauty pointed at my paper adversary, the instructor makes another round.  He hands me the magazine with a single bullet. Gold. Small. Power.

“Magazines in!”

Photo Courtesy of Joe Sgroi © 2011. All rights reserved.

I put the magazine in the butt of the pistol and pound it in with the heel of my palm. It “snicks” into place.  Just like in the movies. My right hand curls back around the tiger’s tongue. I put my left palm open on the base of the grip and curl my fingers up around my other hand.

“Release the slide. Index off the trigger!”

I push down on the slidestop. The slide moves forward. The hammer stays back. Now the gun is hungry.  Ready to pounce. My finger wants to curl on the trigger. But I force it to stay parallel with the slide until he tells us otherwise.

“The range is hot! On my command, line up the sights and take one shot at the target.”

I breathe and hold.  The vest strains against my chest. I bend my knees slightly. I squeeze my grip and lock my wrists. My biceps tighten. I slide my index finger down until I feel the trigger. In the foreground, I line up my front sight in the valley of the rear sight on the back of the gun. Downrange, I see the X on my adversary, directly in front of my sights. Dead to rights.

“Fire!”

I don’t have to pull. I just squeeze my index finger.  A quiet pop. A tiny puff of smoke.  A slight kick against my ready wrists. I lower the gun and relax my arms and shoulders.

Holy s _ _ _ !

Slightly above and to the left of the X, but still within an inch of the tiny X-marks-the-spot, is a small but well-defined hole in my adversary.

Who’s laughing now?

I release the magazine and catch it as it slides out of the grip.

I can’t help but flash a quick smile as I try to wait patiently for another magazine…and another turn with the tiger’s tongue.

END

Mar 24 2011

The Circle of Livin’ On a Prayer

Tonight, my daughter requested that I add Bon Jovi’s Livin’ On a Prayer to her iPod, because she had heard it on mine and liked it. This was a proud, albeit surreal, parental moment for me.  That song came out 25 years ago. I was in eighth grade, rockin’ a horrible mullet and bleached denim and I was desperately trying to be cool. In hindsight, the aforementioned mullet was probably the primary factor in me failing to achieve said goal.

Glam and heavy metal was in full swing and I was just starting to turn my music tastes in the direction of copious Aquanet and screaming guitars. Never would I have thought that I’d have a daughter who wanted to hear “my” music a quarter century later!

Hard rock legends have now become popular icons (Steven Tyler, Ozzy Osbourne), actors and TV stars (Bon Jovi, Bret Michaels) and a new generation has discovered the music of their heyday.  Perhaps music, like fashion, will come around again and glam metal will resurrect! But if it does, I promise that I will make no movement in the mullet direction. You have my word.

I added it to her iPod for her.  But I also discovered that there are some very interesting remixes and remakes out there. I’ve attached a few below for your listening/viewing pleasure.

What about you – any songs from your youth that have made a comeback, should make a comeback or should remained buried forever right next to your own bad haircut?

Here’s Bon Jovi’s own acoustic version:

Feb 21 2011

Fishfunk

image by nztramping.com

I recently participated in a mini-challenge over at Booktalk, the blog for DC Jacobson & Associates literary agency. They posted a recent blog on “Describing with Verbs” and ended the post with the following challenge:

Here’s a challenge for the commenters: can you make the following character more interesting by using verbs? The old, tanned, stooped fisherman sat on the splintered dock beside his frayed, malodorous nets.

Here’s my shot at it:

“Moses stood, shirtless, surveying the sunset on the water beneath the dock – tiny floating bits of star over the water’s green depths. Grunting, he stooped to the dock, the wrinkles on his forehead escalating like tiny hills of burlap. The ancient dock grunted back. Age, reliability…it was a bond they shared. As the dock aged, its color faded to bone grey in the bleaching rays of the sun. Yet Moses had the deep cocoa tan of decades of life and labor beneath that bursting glowing orb. Baked leather skin on the backs of his thighs protected him from the dock’s splintering edges as he swung his legs over, toes inches above the water. He picked up a heap of nets that needed mending. Bits of discarded bait, seaweed and stray scales clung to the strands like strangers on a subway. Helen told him that he was beginning smell more and more like his nets, but he knew she wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d worked these waters for nearly 60 years and it had put a roof over their heads and more than just fish on the table. Sweat. Salt. Fishfunk. It was clean living and a freedom that no other existence could match. Of that, he was certain.”

There are several diverse and effective responses posted on the blog itself.  I didn’t do any editing on mine, but if I had, it would probably be a little shorter…but not much! Perhaps I got a little verbose, but I smelled Moses as I was writing.  I wanted everybody else to smell him too.  Did I succeed?

I think many of the entries succeeded, but of course that is a relative term.  Perspective and subjectivity are such a vital role in the path a story takes…both for the writer and the reader! But honestly, for me at least, that is what makes it fun – finding a way to connect with a reader over a topic…even if it is a nasty one like fishfunk!

In reading it, what worked for you about my description?  What seemed wrong or awkward? Did I make any bad assumptions about you as a reader as I wrote it?

Dec 9 2010

Have Yourself a Metal Little Christmas

Now that the Xmas season is in full-swing I have abandoned my iPod mix for the holiday tunes on the radio. The only time I use my iPod these days is during my workout. I admit – my workout mix has a lot of metal in it. 80s metal…long hair, spandex, all that stuff. On the treadmill today it occurred to me how funny it would be if the metal groups from my iPod covered some Christmas songs. Crazy talk, right? Not so much. Turns out that many of the metal gods and lesser deities from my misspent youth have had the same idea. Grant you some of the following are sad attempts to recapture past glory by exploiting our seasonal goodwill, but still, they are quite entertaining. Without further adieu, I give you my favorite metal Christmas hits!

1. Billy Idol – Jungle Bell Rock: Trademark Sneer + Cheesy Snow Special Effects = Christmas Gold!

2. Twisted Sister – Heavy Metal Christmas: Twisted Sister’s take on the 12 Days of Christmas. “On my heavy metal Christmas, my true love gave to me- a tattoo of Ozzy.” I wonder who’s more upset by this, Novello & Co. (owners of the copyright on the original) or Ozzy himself.

3. Dokken- Santa Claus is Coming to Town: Perhaps not as well-known as some of the others on the list, Dokken’s virtuosity still ranks high in my book (and my playlist). This version, with trademark powerful vocals from Don Dokken and George Lynch’s driving guitar power, does not disappoint.

4. Zakk Wylde – White Christmas: Legendary axeman Zakk Wylde, former guitarist for Ozzy Osbourne, takes it unplugged in this acoustic take on the Bing Crosby classic.

5. Ronnie James Dio – God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman: He was known to many as a pivotal figure of the genre and no metal countdown would be complete without the unmistakable vocals of Ronnie James Dio.

6. Trans-Siberian Orchestra – Christmas Eve/Sarajevo 12/24: Okay, I know TSO isn’t exactly considered a heavy metal group, but to me this is the most orchestrated metal/Xmas mash-up I have ever heard. Christmas bells, continual distorted riffs, flaming solos…excellent!

No doubt my list is incomplete – which ones did I miss?

Dec 3 2010

It’s Okay for Christians to Say “Xmas”!

Christmas is a big deal in my family – always has been, always will be.  Since I was a little kid, it was a celebration in every sense of the word. It’s a time of reverent recognition of the birth of Christ, it’s an opportunity to spend time with the ones you hold dearest and yes, it is time for us to engage in all the secular (and oft cheeseboaty) traditions that come with it. And now that I have young children of my own, I am sharing with them all the traditions that my wife and I hold dear (Christian, secular and everything in between). I am a believer, yet it doesn’t bother me if you aren’t.  I am not a preacher nor do I have a burning interest to convert you.  You believe what you want and I’ll believe what I want.

But recently I’ve been inundated with messages from Christian friends within my social media circles  about how we shouldn’t abbreviate Christmas with the word “Xmas”, stating that it was an indication of an erosion of faith, a secularization of a religious holiday or simply a sign of laziness. In the past, some clergy had even decried it as being a “pagan” spelling of Christmas!

I guess I never gave it much thought until now.  I certainly use the abbreviation often in writing (although never aloud – just sounds weird to me I suppose).  I had never considered it to be an affront to my beliefs (or anyone else’s).  And from my perspective it wasn’t a sign of laziness but rather an attempt at saving time or space (cause we all know that in a 140 character tweet, every bit helps!)

This morning I was talking to my lovely bride about the contentious Xmas issue and she politely told me that I had it all wrong.  It turns out that “X” is not a slovenly shafting but rather a very acceptable symbolic representation of Christ traceable back over 1000 years.  Here’s an excerpt from the Wikipedia entry on “Xmas” that explains it in greater detail:

“Usage of “X” for “Christ”

The labarum, often called the Chi-Rho, is a Christian symbol representing Christ.

The abbreviation of Christmas as “Xmas” is the source of disagreement among Christians who observe the holiday. Dennis Bratcher, writing for a website for Christians, states “there are always those who loudly decry the use of the abbreviation ‘Xmas’ as some kind of blasphemy against Christ and Christianity”.[12]Among them are evangelist Franklin Graham and CNN journalist Roland Martin. Graham stated in an interview:

“for us as Christians, this is one of the most holy of the holidays, the birth of our savior Jesus Christ. And for people to take Christ out of Christmas. They’re happy to say merry Xmas. Let’s just take Jesus out. And really, I think, a war against the name of Jesus Christ.”[13]

Martin likewise relates the use of “Xmas” to his growing concerns of increasing commercialization and secularization of one of Christianity’s highest holy days.[14] Bratcher posits that those who dislike abbreviating the word are unfamiliar with a long history of Christians using X in place of “Christ” for various purposes.

The word “Christ” and its compounds, including “Christmas”, have been abbreviated in English for at least the past 1,000 years, long before the modern “Xmas” was commonly used. “Christ” was often written as “XP” or “Xt”; there are references in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle as far back as AD 1021. This X and P arose as the uppercase forms of the Greek letters χ and ρ used in ancient abbreviations for Χριστος (Greek for “Christ”), and are still widely seen in many Eastern Orthodox icons depicting Jesus Christ. The labarum, an amalgamation of the two Greek letters rendered as ☧, is a symbol often used to represent Christ inCatholic, Protestant, and Orthodox Christian Churches.[15]

The Oxford English Dictionary (OED) and the OED Supplement have cited usages of “X-” or “Xp-” for “Christ-” as early as 1485. The terms “Xpian” and “Xtian” have also been used for “Christian”. The dictionary further cites usage of “Xtianity” for “Christianity” from 1634. According to Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary of English Usage, most of the evidence for these words comes from “educated Englishmen who knew their Greek”.[8]

In ancient Christian art, χ and χρ are abbreviations for Christ’s name.[16] In many manuscripts of the New Testament and icons, X is an abbreviation for Christos,[citation needed] as is XC (the first and last letters in Greek, using the lunate sigma);[17] compare IC for Jesus in Greek.

And so there you have it – historical connotations. Do I think this means that everyone who uses Xmas knows that it has such Christian roots?  Of course not!  In fact, I bet that many of those who do might think again if they knew the true origin!  But the point is, we should all be able to share it, based on what we believe as individuals.   Have you ever thought about this yourself?  Do you say “Xmas”?  Does any of this info change your stance? The above detail (and there are countless other legitimate resources that back up these facts) is good enough for me to continue to say it without hesitation.  So…

MERRY XMAS!



Dec 1 2010

Dust (Part One)

A few days ago I did a post explaining my plan to write the same story in two different formats – one as a poem and one as a short story. Below is part one of the poem version. I am not sure if I even know how to write poetry – I’ll let you decide. If you do bother to read it, please comment and answer a couple really basic questions for me:

1) Like It or Hate It?

2) Would you bother reading a Part II?

3) Any interest in a short story prose version?

Thank you, that is all…

dust (part 1)


we made our run with the evening sun
before the moon could light the sky
o’er the meager mound of blessed earth
we raged with voices high

we screamed and scrabbled and clawed the ground
as if speed would aid our quest
headlong rushing in a ragged line
into the coiling vipers nest

down the hill we charged at them
our rifles at the ready
fighting the fears that clutched our throats
we moved to remain steady

we were still yet nearly forty strong
bluecoats made of steel
yet we’d seen the work these demons’d done
our flesh was all too real

they’d held us trapped and starving
meager rats within their cage
our power now was born of anger
and a desperate stand of faith

so with our Captain at the front
we’d sworn to see it through
“one death is as good as any!”
he bellowed and bugle blew

we rushed across the field to meet them
they simply stood and sneered
they loomed too large for face to face
as our racing minds had feared

shoulder to shoulder the ten stood tall
no shadows on the ground
they gave no notice of our advance
neither movement nor a sound

until we were almost upon them
they were but stones upon the field
and then as one they crouched and sprang
but too late was it to yield

we waded in near four to one
but knew what we would face
these demons had the power
to conjure death in their embrace

their mouths worked loose to snapping jaws
hungry for the kill
smelling the death that stood against them
like grist before the mill

their fingers were like bayonets
flashed against the setting sun
glittering, slashing into our ranks
moving faster than our guns

our Captain was the first to fall
his wailing death rose o’er the din
the monsters screeched like swooping falcons
as we railed against their sin

a streaking shadow moved left to right
raking fire across my chest
i lurched sideways out of the fray
bubbling gasps within my breast

i tasted blood upon my tongue
and knew it was my time
i prayed to God to watch my bones
and prove that they were mine

deeper still I felt stinging warmth
spread from the crimson trails
numbness moved into my limbs
soon i’d see beyond the veil

i screamed and stumbled, i wailed and wallowed
i fought to leave the field
wandering towards the winter wood yet
naked trees would be no shield

i trudged o’er crackling autumn leaves
that thundered in my ears
calling to those gargoyles behind
who would suffocate my years

for what seemed like hours i wandered loose
a tiny babe without his mother
driven onward to make an escape
from the death cries of my brothers

the howls of their devourers
were fading from my ear
as I came upon a clearing
that stunk of death and fear

a perfect circle of forest floor
that encased a tiny hut
in the growing darkness figures loomed
yet i was set to rut

i felt a blow to the back of my head
so easily i was prey
the darkness gathered around my lids
i blackened where i lay

rough talons grabbed about my arms
to drag me to my doom
a trifle clearing in a nameless wood
would be my earthly tomb

END PART ONE

Nov 3 2010

Forget the Whales and the Baby Seals…Save the Words!

The Oxford English Dictionary has established an adoption program to allow you to help save antiquated words from obsolescence and removal from our common lexicon. With just a few small clicks you too can have your own little word to love and care for.  But be warned, you have to pledge to use it in every day conversation to ensure that it doesn’t disappear for good!

Don't worry about me...save the words, the words I tell you!

When you go to the site, you’ll be bombarded by the sad little refugee words eager to get your attention. Be strong – only pick the ones you know you can care for!

I myself was smitten with two of the S breed:

Squiriferous – adj. having the characteristics or qualities of a gentleman

Scaevity - v. unluckiness

My squiriferous nature and their scaevity compelled me to adopt them and use them as my own. And by the way, WordPress did not recognize either of the words – how very un-squiriferous of them! (Bonus points for the compound word!)

And now it’s your turn – open up your hearts and your vocabulary to these forlorn waifs. Let me know which ones you get!

Oct 4 2010

Do Talking Dogs Really Sell Stuff?

I have recently been hit by a series of television commercials in which the artists and producers behind them thought it was a good idea to have a talking dog hawk their wares or services. Taken in small doses, this would have likely flown right under my TIRDR (“That Is Really Dumb” Radar). However, these commercials recently came at me faster than a swarm of senior citizens at the 4:30 buffet hour.

And on top of that, on the way to work recently I even noticed a giant dog-centric billboard for the first time. It was a dog dressed up in little doll clothes who apparently was very satisfied with the services he received at a local storage facility.

Did you make a Taco Bell run because of him?

Don’t get me wrong – I love dogs. But I think sometimes dog lovers stretch the boundaries of wise decisions, blinded by puppy love. The alarms of lameness buzzing in my head compelled me to analyze the situation and get to the facts of this tragic canine exploitation. I drew some conclusions of my own that I am sharing with anyone in the audience who may be considering such a course of action in their own sales and marketing:

1) I understand that your dog is the center of your world. I get it, really I do and that’s cool with me. But he isn’t the center of mine. So, any personal credibility he may have with you does not float my boat. Even putting him in gold chains, or sunglasses or a suit and tie does not instill me with confidence that you can litigate my legal case or install my new AC unit properly.

2) Nobody in TV land with buying power actually thinks that your dog can talk. So having him tell us, via a silly lip-synced voice, how great your services are only caters to the three-year olds among us (who rarely get to decide where to bring the smoking vehicle for service or which brand of furniture to buy).

3) Perhaps the only exception to this rule is when the dog is promoting dog products – pet stores, kennels and the like. Although I still question the actual effectiveness of it, I do believe that it is acceptable. Below is an example of one that I think “works”. After I watch it, I’ve got the jingle in my head and I will remember it next time I am in quick need of a kennel.

I’d love to hear the other side of this argument – somebody out there please tell me that I am wrong on this one. Tell me that you buy Bush’s Baked Beans because of Duke or that “tu quieres Taco Bell” because of the chihuahua. Show me the data that says dogs really do sell stuff!

May 25 2010

Adding Bat Wrangler to the Resumé

Okay, I know I moved to the country. And yes, I know my backyard has woods in it. And yes, I know summer is here. But seriously, how bad does it really get? Tonight there was a bonafide, squeaking, fluttering bat in my house! We suspect his MO was food. His point of ingress was likely the back door with an ETA remarkably similar to that of when my son let the dog in. My son spotted it in his room and like any self-respecting father, I told him he was crazy. When we got the visual confirmation, the wife, son and dog headed to the basement while I suited up on the main floor. I did stop to ponder momentarily what exactly was the proper make-up of a customized BES (Bat Extraction Suit). I opted for the effective-yet-lightweight long-sleeve shirt and workgloves. Armed with a flashlight, a towel (no net on premises), and my considerable cranial power, I slowly climbed the stairs. I spotted him flittering around the overhead light in my son’s room. As I slipped into the room and closed the door behind me, I heard Steve Irwin’s signature line in my head “I probably shouldn’t be doing this, but…”

The Beast Writhes Towards Freedom

And so we danced a disturbing two-step for nearly 10 minutes. He’d swoop, I’d duck and roll. He’d roost and I’d press my luck (ever try to aim and throw a towel precisely?) I swear that six inch monster was out for my blood. Finally, he made a crucial error. He dove for my bare legs, seeking an easy target. But I was one step ahead of him. I feigned fear and even managed a very realistic sounding yelp before nailing him with the towel. I tell you friends, I was on death’s door, yet I managed to escape. He writhed and squealed in anger from beneath the towel. Slowly I peeled back the towel and grabbed from the back, avoiding the vicious fangs. And then…it happened. He saw me and I saw him. He knew he was vanquished…and he was pissed!

I covered him with both hands (gloved of course) and brought him downstairs. Before I even got to the bottom of the steps, I heard my wife shout “I don’t even want to see it!” followed closely by my son’s “I do!” Before we let him go back into the night, the great beast was kind enough to pose for a few close-ups, just so I could prove my tale to be true.

Can You Identify This Slithering Sunbather?

What perhaps makes this evening more interesting is that this comes only two days after my daughter almost stepped on a snake who had decided to stop and sun himself on our front porch. I’ve included a shot of him for your viewing pleasure as well. I’ve tentatively identified this critter as a baby black rat snake, but I’d welcome an opinion from anyone with more herpetological education than myself.

And so these encounters, along with the yellowjacket infestation we had last year and that blue jay that always gives me a funny look when I am mowing the lawn has me thinking our house and yard may be under siege. Stay tuned for more updates from the front line of the battlefield in our Backyard Biosphere!

Nov 9 2009

Xmas Lights Are Up!

We decided to downsize this year, with the economy being in the toilet and all that.  Ours is the house on the right in the picture below.

xmaslights

Okay, no, that isn’t really our house. But I don’t care who you are, that’s funny!  But, honestly, we did put our outside lights up this weekend.  I was too lazy to take a picture, but it does tend to look more like that one on the left.  We are either the envy or the joke of the neighborhood for getting it done so early.  But hey, it looks good, the kids love it, so what the heck?