Monday, February 28, 2011

My Bad

I owe the person who texted my wife asking who she was and what state she lived in an apology. I ridiculed this unknown person in my last blog. It turns out that I am the idiot and that fact verifies what my wife has been saying for years.

I had no clue that when you move and keep your current phone number that it also includes your area code. The person who called could have moved from the Verde Valley, Arizona, to Texas and kept their Arizona area code. They in turn would not necessarily know if we had or had not done the same.

The turn of events opens a real can of worms – now we really have no clue where the obnoxious, irritating calls really come from...only the CIA has that ability.

“What, me worry?” I only have an outdated phone that is devoid of bells and whistles. My wife and her fancy phone are now on their own!

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Star Trek Phones

My wife recently purchased a new fangled cell phone that enables her to go on line, receive text messages, and about a hundred other functions. She actually has learned quite a bit about the phone and manages to keep in touch through texting. She even gets the weather reports while we are traveling. These phones are a marvel of technology and even though my wife was worried about all the functions, she is starting to master the art of using her intergalactic communicator. There is only one problem; you can’t control the idiots on the other end of the signal.

While returning home from Quartzsite, Arizona, yesterday, wifey received a text signal. “Oh great, I bet it’s Chris from Michigan!” she exclaimed. “I bet he is buried up to his butt in snow,” was my reply. As my wife pushed buttons and changed screens with a swish of her finger, a perplexed look came over her face. “I don’t believe this; the message reads, ‘Hey, who is this?’” she announced. I remarked, “Ask them, who in the hell are you?” She typed in, “Who are you?” While we were waiting for an answer, I was thinking, don’t you just hate it when someone calls you and asks who is this? I always reply, “This is me, who are you?”

After a minute or so, the phone again announced that another text message had arrived. It read, “I have your number in my phone, but no name. I need to know your name and what state you’re in.” “That’s enough of that,” my wife said to me as she put her phone back in her purse.

After a couple of minutes passed and we were discussing the virtues of not being an idiot like the person texting us, the phone rang again. With trepidation, my wife retrieved her phone and read the following text. “Are you the Simpsons from Houston, Texas?” Now under normal circumstances, that may be a valid question. But, consider this; the caller had a 928-301 number, which is a cell phone from the Verde Valley, Arizona, area, and the call was sent to our 928-821 number, which is also a Verde Valley, Arizona, cell number. How can this idiot not know we are from Arizona and what has Houston, Texas got to do with anything? The answer is simple; you can’t fix stupid!

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Saturday, February 26, 2011

The Clown is Down!

I think humans are losing the ability to laugh at themselves. We still do well at laughing at the afflictions of others, but looking in the mirror and having a good laugh at what we see is non-existent these days.

While I look in the mirror and wonder where all the years have gone, I also laugh at all the fun I had along the way. Regrets, sure, but all in all it has been a fun ride. I certainly don’t laugh at the mistakes that caused others pain, but I do laugh at the stupidity of those mistakes.

I don’t know about you, but I’m starting to laugh at our opinions concerning animals of supposedly lower orders. It is becoming abundantly clear that intelligence is not measured by the size of a brain, but rather how the brain is used. I have proved many times in my life that my brain must be the size of a pea, yet some birds with a brain the size of a pea are operating at genius level.

One thing I am not seeing in the mirror anymore is my past arrogance that we humans are the best thing since sliced bread. That’s a real laugh if you think about it; we can’t even get along with each other, let alone our partners who share the planet. After all, if you study life on Earth you learn that everything is in just one big partnership. What happens to one species eventually happens to all species. Can’t see it? Well, that’s the arrogance I speak about.

If you are one of the thirteen or so people who read my blogs and are now bummed out, not to worry. Go to the mirror for an exercise in humility. Look closely at the reflection – now isn’t that just about the funniest thing you have ever seen? Image of God, really? My God reflects the whole universe and all living things, not just one funny looking species with no humor.

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Friday, February 25, 2011

Party Harty!

With young people today it's all party and play, with no thought to the future. Getting old is inevitable and all you young whipper snappers are heading there like a runaway freight train. I prepared myself years ago for this day, as the last picture on this blog will attest! Just call me way cool, and know that the gals love me!

































































Thursday, February 24, 2011

Where is the Remote?

I don’t think there is a wife or girlfriend on the planet that hasn’t had to look for their man’s TV remote control at one time or another. Men losing stuff they had in their hands a few moments before is not confined to just remotes either. The list includes keys, glasses, gloves, etc. The list is endless and the hunt exasperating. This is not to say that women don’t lose stuff too; they do, but it’s just that women handle the situation way better while we men go ballistic.

I thought when we started using a motor home for vacations that the horrible “losing game” would stop. The square footage of a motor home is minuscule compared to a house and there are fewer places for the stuff to hide. WRONG! Square footage has nothing to do with the art of physical things escaping human possession.

“Darling, have you seen my keys?” “They are probably right where you left them, dear.” “I can’t find them anywhere!” “Did you look in the truck?” “I would never leave them in the truck, wifey!!” After ten minutes of both of us looking, while I rant and rave, my wife would find them on the floorboard of the truck right where I left them. I then storm off to the hardware store, while she takes a couple of migraine headache pills and retreats to a dark closet.

And, what about glasses? I happen to know on good authority that eye glasses are supernatural in nature. It all started when Ben Franklin invented the darn things while belonging to the Free Masons, who in turn belonged to the Knights Templar, who in turn stole the Holy Grail and hid it in America. It all makes perfect sense if you think about it. Glasses where born to hide, and hide well. I just know when I lose mine that they are with the Holy Grail – find the glasses and you find the Grail.

I think my brother, Walt, has the answer. He carries a man-purse the size of Texas. His whole life’s accumulation of stuff is in that purse. It’s so big that it’s impossible to lose anything. Of course, someday he will be too old to carry it and that will be the time when he also will join the rest of us in the “losing game.” Until then, I’ll be damned if I am going to carry a purse! Let the hunt begin….

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Saddle Up!

While I was selling my murder mysteries, Evil in the Mirror and Day Stalker, at Reader's Oasis Books in Quartzsite, Arizona, yesterday, I met a fellow author who is 83 years old. He is a spry gentleman, very opinionated, and still tough as nails. As a WWII vet, which is becoming a rare species indeed, he has seen and heard just about everything under the sun.

We started talking about the weather and soon we hit on politics. I mentioned in passing that we shouldn’t talk about politics or religion. We then proceeded to talk about both in earnest. Of course, he thought the world had gone to hell in a hand basket, which it has, and that the Holy Bible was his co-pilot, which is OK with me.

Our conversation finally rested on John Wayne and Ronald Reagan. “If those two men were president and vice president we could get something done in Washington,” my new friend declared. I nodded in agreement while pondering the possibilities. I wondered outloud which one would be president. “Why that’s simple,” he said. “They would arm wrestle for the honor!” I’m seeing both men, in my mind’s eye, arm wrestling on national TV for the honor of being President of the United States of America. “Who do you think would win?” I asked. “The Duke would, hands down,” was the answer. I let the subject go for fear of having to arm wrestle my author friend right then and there to settle the question. It would be embarrassing to be whipped by an 83 year old in front of everyone and their mothers.

The conversation then turned to the young people of America. My friend spoke up loudly, “Damn kids today are lazy. They need to get off their fat butts and 'saddle up' just like the Duke would have.” I immediately thought of the “old man” on Pawn Stars telling Chumlee to get to work. No sense saying anything to my new friend; I was sure he didn’t watch the program, so I nodded in agreement.

We both sat at our tables feeling the warm sun hit our faces while looking up at a beautiful blue sky. I had no way of really knowing what my friend was thinking during our silence, but I am sure he was thinking about how things used to be. Personally, I was thinking about how I would vote for my new author friend to be president in a heart beat!

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

The Chicken and the Egg

Question: Where do your ideas come from? This is a common question from readers who want to start their own blog or write a book.

Answer: For my blogs, I usually depend on Google. I Google cartoons or maybe a catch phrase like “dirty laundry.” Something interesting always pops up and I just go from there. It’s a great tool for finding the spark that ignites the writing fire. If I think of an original idea, I still Google it just to be better informed about the premise. By the way, humor is always a good idea for blogs. I like to alternate between informative and whacky humor. It’s OK to try and pass on things you have learned, but occasionally humor goes a long way in the teaching process.

Writing books is not quite as easy. Picking a genre is most important. It’s not wise to write about something that only a very small part of the population is interested in. When you decide on what you want to write about, it needs to fit a large audience. I picked murder mysteries because they are popular and lots of folks like a good mystery. The same could be said about romance novels, but they are not my kind of books. My passion is “who done it” murder mysteries.

Speaking of passion, without passion your journey is finished before it begins. Writing without passion is like eating food without spice; you soon tire of mush – and so does everyone else. If your passion is biology, don’t write a book about the subject. There are more than enough text books concerning biology. Instead, write about the biology of dogs and cats, with a splash of humor injected throughout. Many people love dogs and cats and will read anything interesting and humorous about their pets.

I like writing B & B (blogs and books), and I am hooked on both equally. I have noticed that when I tire of working on my current murder mystery, The Phoenix Code, I can be just as satisfied writing a blog. Blogs are like little mini-books and they get published just like a novel. It’s the best of both worlds!

Write on,

Mittster

Monday, February 21, 2011

X-ray Vision!

I was sitting at the kitchen table working on the laptop this morning, minding my own business, when my mind went on safari, which is typical of the man brain. I hate it when this happens because I am at the age when you would think these kinds of thoughts were a thing of the past. To make it worse, my wife and I are celebrating our sixteenth wedding anniversary today, and she always proofs my blogs. Happy anniversary, darling….

Earlier, I had looked up from the laptop and stared at a Betty Boop doll that was lying on the couch. For some unknown man reason, I wished I had X-ray vision. It was just one of those flashes from the brain that cause embarrassing moments. I was grateful that no one but I was aware of what had just happened. The problem is now I can’t help but write about it. This is also typical of the man brain; why not shoot myself in the foot with an elephant gun on our anniversary!

Of course, after some research, it was inevitable that I would discover that X-ray vision is no different than going to the doctor for a look-see at a broken bone. I realized that Superman could have not seen Lois Lane’s blue panties anymore than I could see Betty’s pink ones; of course I am only assuming Betty has pink ones.

In any case, the whole X-ray blog thing was an exercise in futility, but I still finished the blog. My wife proofed it and had only one comment--again, “Mitt, you’re an idiot!”

No doubt,

Mittster

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Imagination Rules!

I was raised in Escondido, California, which is a very conservative community even today. My battles with the powers that be started in the first grade and lasted until I moved away in 1968. My twin brother and I were considered outcasts and we had a very difficult time in high school. “Watch out for the twins; they are so different!”

The first class reunion I attended was in 2001. It took me forty years to understand that it was OK to be liberal in my thinking and actions! The crazy part is that I voted conservative and loved Ronald Regan, who is still my hero. Just following in my parents' footsteps, I suspect.

My twin and I went on to have successful careers in the construction industry, marry, and have families in Tucson, Arizona, which was the city we were born in and migrated back to. My brother still lives there, while I moved on to northern Arizona. My wife and I live in the very small community of Camp Verde, which happens to also be very conservative.

Two years ago, I decided (with the blessing of my wife) to write a murder mystery called Evil in the Mirror. Three months later the work was finished and we then began the proofing, editing and publishing process. While that was going on, I wrote a sequel called Day Stalker. Consequently, both books have been published and let out into the wild. I am now working on the last book of the trilogy, The Phoenix Code, and hope to have it published this summer.

What emerged from these books were very dark, disturbing and scary stories. There is graphic sex and violence, which I maintain is the catalyst for most real life murder stories. My books are not in the genre of Stephen King, but instead, more akin to real life horror stories like Ted Bundy, only worse. They are not for the faint of heart or conservative of mind.

Which brings me to my point; some people can’t or won’t read my books. At first, I took this negative response personally, but now I have come full circle in the realization that the reason my twin and I were shunned was because of our incredible imaginations. We were light-years ahead of everyone else and that fact scared teachers and students alike. In our school days, there was only one way and that was the conservative way!

What I now understand is that we were not alone; there were many kids in our school who had the same problems. Many of them have responded with enthusiasm toward my work. One, a bestselling author, has deemed my work brilliant. It doesn’t get any better than that! Actually, her work is very brilliant also and I am proud to know her.

Well, I am now poised to attend my 50th class reunion in May. I look forward to seeing old friends and making new ones after all these years. I might even sell a few books.

Write on,

Mittster

Saturday, February 19, 2011

If I am lying, I'm dying

My wife and I arrived back in Quartzsite, Arizona, yesterday to promote my murder mystery books, Evil in the Mirror and Day Stalker. As you know, we have been here many times in the past, but this time our visit started out weird from the get go. Click on the title of this blog and you will start to understand.

I did not believe in zombies when we started visiting Quartzsite eleven years ago. It was obvious very strange people did indeed migrate to this part of the lower desert for the winter, but I just thought they were from California or possibly Canada. How was I to know that a herd of zombies had a reunion here every year that numbered close to a half million of the crusty critters from all over the country?

The scary part is that every year I get older, I am looking and acting more like the zombies I see mulling around vendors' tents and RV shows. Are zombies contagious? Am I unwittingly turning into a slow driving gawker, barely able to see over the steering wheel? Will I start huddling around a barbeque with other zombies, screeching and snarling while waiting for rare, almost raw meat? And, what about the place where the largest herd gathers? It’s called the Senior Citizen Center. I find myself wanting to go there for cheap pig meat and over easy eggs this visit!

I think I see a pattern here – and it isn’t good. Excuse me while I go look in the mirror; I must know the truth. Oh, my God, it’s true, I am a zombie now! What am I to do? I am now the walking dead and there is no going back! Oh, well, I might as well walk over to the ice cream tent and pig out on a black cherry waffle cone. You have to make the best of life’s little disappointments, you know.

I’m just drooling,

Mittster

Friday, February 18, 2011

Bernie Has Left The Building

Holy cow, can it be true? There seems to be more construction want ads on Monster.com in Arizona. In fact, there are more ads in the newspapers too. I judge the economical health of our state by the health of its construction industry.

After Bernie ripped off America for billions and billions and billions of dollars, even custom home building in Sedona, Arizona, disappeared, never to be seen again by the eyes of man. All the rich folks who wanted to live in the most beautiful place in Arizona suddenly found themselves poor right along with the rest of us that exist lower on the food chain. The impact hurt all of us.

Well, I am here to tell you that things are improving. Again there is opportunity in the industry that I have been a part of for over forty years. I have been through many recessions, although never quite like this one, and I am familiar with the signs of recovery. In fact, a construction opportunity has knocked on my door recently. No, I can’t discuss it, but trust in the fact that it is true. All I can say is that there are people with money looking at the low cost of properties with a hungry eye.

If my fortunes improve, you can bet I will share the wealth with other construction workers who need work desperately to feed their families and pay their bills. For some, this recovery comes too late to save their homes and credit, but it is never too late to rebuild lives, hopes and dreams.
And what about my authoring career? Not to worry, my murder mystery fans, I need to write as much as you need to have the pants scared off you!

Writing on,

Mittster

Thursday, February 17, 2011

The Phoenix Code

While I am finishing my newest murder mystery, The Phoenix Code, I was hoping my fans would help me decide on a cover design. Since the book is about the Phoenix rising from the ashes, what do you think about the picture posted on this blog? The cover will still be similar to Evil in the Mirror and Day Stalker, but this time a picture of the Phoenix bird will be centered on the cover.

I thought some color other than white with red blood drops would be a nice change of pace. What do you think?

I’m just asking,

Mittster

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Write That Idea Down!

People who constantly write down their ideas are one step ahead of all the rest. Og Mandino once wrote, “You only have to be one iota above mediocre to be successful in the world.” I decided long ago that I wanted to be more than just an iota above the rest. I wanted to be light-years above the rest! Well, I never made the light-years part, but I can say, with humility, that I went past the iota level.

After a successful career in the construction industry, I wanted even more intellectually. That’s why I became an author. Here was a chance to express ideas at a rapid-fire pace. Novels are ideas trapped forever in a bottle, so to speak. You open the pages and experiences flow out in abundance. Each page is a microcosm of ideas which combine with other ideas to form a picture in your mind’s eye. The whole book becomes a tapestry of ideas placed in such a way that a story emerges.

Can you tell I place great importance on the simple idea? The trick is to capture the little rascals before they disappear into a forgotten ideas' “black hole” in which nothing returns. That’s where the pen and paper come in, or better yet, the mini-recorder. The mode of capture is not really important - what is important is that you bottle up all those ideas for future use.

I never throw away my ideas; because they can be used over and over again, but in different contexts and scenarios. They are the building blocks of everything I write and soon I plan to compile a personal dictionary of ideas, placed in alphabetical order, for future use. Perhaps the dictionary should be in the form of an e-Book so everyone could use my past ideas, combined with their own, to help write that perfect novel. Now there is an idea I must write down….

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Recession Be Gone!

OK, enough is enough already.... I have consulted a Voodoo priest from Haiti and together we have put a hex on the recession. Don’t scoff at my approach; no one from our country seems to have the answer. The Democrats, Republicans and all in between seem to know only rhetoric, confrontation, lying, and infighting.

Here is my approach; voodoo dolls have been made to resemble each and every politician on Capitol Hill, along with a needle for each. When a politician starts to argue, “wham” we stick them with the needle in their groin! When a politician starts to lie, “wham” we stick them again! You get the picture and even though this technique is grim, extraordinary measures are needed in extraordinary times.

The Voodoo priest has assured me that no permanent damage will occur. This form of condition training is needed due to the length of time the politicians have been participating in duping the citizens of America. One can imagine that even with the thought of a lie, the groin reflex will stop the lie dead in the mouth of the perpetrator!

It won’t take very long and the politicians will finally get it. We all live in the same country and only by working together can we solve our current dilemma. Who knows, perhaps we could start on all the other problems that face our planet? Sometimes it takes a "boot" in the lower extremities to get us started.

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Monday, February 14, 2011

The Old Pueblo

I know we never want to forget the horrible tragedy that happened in Tucson recently, but I want everyone to know that this city is still vibrant and fun. I recommend The Old Pueblo if you are looking for an inexpensive, yet exciting place to visit.

My book signing last Saturday at Hangovers Bar & Grill was a blast! Thank you, Hangovers, for a very successful signing party. A special thanks to our hostess, Rhonda. She kept the wine flowing and laughter abundant.

While I was in Tucson, I also visited a new VFW on the eastside. I was so impressed with the people and the new building that we have arranged a signing there for sometime in March. I am sure this party will also be fun and exciting!

In the meanwhile, my wife and I are heading to Quartzsite for another week at naked Paul’s Readers Oasis Books. I know, here come the pictures and stories about Paul. What else can I say; the guy is a riot to make fun of. But, all of us authors appreciate him so much for providing a venue for our book signings - We are all very fond of our host.

Write on,

Mittster

Friday, February 11, 2011

Bloggless in Camp Verde

I am on my way to Tucson for a book signing party Saturday the 12th at Hangover’s bar & grill on Alvernon and 22nd. , and it looks like the shindig will last from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m., or until the books run out.

I know the blog withdrawals will start in the morning, but I am leaving my laptop at home so I won’t be tempted. Have no fear though, God willing and the creek don’t rise I will be back at it on Monday.

Have a great weekend – I know I will!

Write on,
Mittster

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Addicted to Blogs

"Help me, help me, somebody help me," said the half human, half fly, to the spider. For those of you that have seen the original movie, The Fly, perhaps you can understand my addiction to blogging. Brother, I need help to keep from getting consumed by the nasty blogger spider.

When I get up at three a.m. in the morning, all I can think about is reading my e-mails, while savoring the thought of going to Blogspot.com. It’s the chocolate of computer land; more, more, I want more. The blogging monkey is on my back a rockin' and a rollin'. Sweet Chuck Berry, I am feeling good while making rim shots with my computer keys!

I tell myself that blogging is necessary to keep in shape for writing novels. “Write everyday, Mittster, it keep the juices flowing.” The problem is that I am spending less time writing murder mysteries and way too much time blogging. As a matter of fact, I have written so many blogs that they constitute a novel in their own right.

Wait, hold the presses – I have an idea; why not compile all the blogs into a book? What a concept; all along I have been writing another book and didn’t even realize it. “There, Mittster, I told you that blogging was the way to go,” said the spider in my brain. “Bon app├ętit," I say back to the spider.

Write on,

Mittster

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Retirement

I finally figured out what retirement is really about. You see when I was a young stud construction worker, not married, no kids, no responsibilities, and lots of cash, I thought life was so good. But, I started to feel guilty about multiple girlfriends, having fun, wild nights and not being in debt. My mother, God rest her soul, was constantly nagging at me to settle down and get married. My life was one Seinfeld show after another.

One day, in my infinite wisdom, I decided to follow my mother’s advice. There was no way for me to know that misery loves company and that married couples were all envious of single people and wanted singles to share in their misery. That’s why mothers and married folks are always nagging at singles to get married.

Well, I got married and joined the “happily married set.” Now, I’m not putting down marriage; my wife is the best in the west! What I wasn’t prepared for was going into debt because of children and many other responsibilities. So started my construction career with one goal in sight - work for forty some odd years, retire, and then do all the things I couldn’t do before because we couldn’t afford the expense. Of course, my wife had a more realistic vision of retirement. I know now why she didn’t share her views with me.

During my career, I was always envious of people with motor homes. Man, that was the way to travel while towing your car behind for transpo when you got to your destination. While we both still worked, we got that motor home and soon learned it was a money pit. I didn’t know they only got ten miles per gallon and that an oil change cost two hundred bucks! The older I got the more I realized it was really hard work just packing and unpacking the beast. After ten years and four motor homes later, you can find it permanently parked in Quartzsite, Arizona. We can’t sell it or afford to drive it, so it has become a winter home away from home - exactly what we like at this point!

All the things I thought I wanted to do in retirement were only realistic for a younger man. Hang gliding? Not!…surfing? Not!…scuba? Not!…Harleys forever? Not!…marathon? Hell not!…etc, etc, etc….I find myself wanting to spend quiet time with my wife and pets, or walking and riding our bikes. I like shopping to save money with coupons. Who would have ever thought that could be fun? The real fun things do not cost a lot of money. The studley Mittster is gone forever and a more gentle, caring and thoughtful person has surfaced. I like this person and what I see in the mirror. For the first time in my life, I see the real me. Getting older is like fine wine and I like the taste.

There is still some fire left in the old engine occasionally, and I can say with conviction, if you don’t like what you see, don’t look. The best part is that the youngsters who think older folks are worthless are heading to our place in time like a runaway freight train!

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

If Discouragement Were Money

If being discouraged were money, I could have retired years ago. That is to say, it is very discouraging being an unknown author after working hard for two years and finding my murder mystery, Evil in the Mirror, 1,300,000 from being number one on Amazon. If that statistic doesn’t discourage you, nothing will.

Well, stand back, World, because I will not be discouraged or otherwise beat up by numbers. I knew going in that the process would take five years at the least. I still have three to go before discouragement can set in and not even then will I let it happen!

It’s OK to have a moment of discouragement occasionally, but then it needs to be replaced immediately with positive energy and perseverance. I am the “terminator” of authors. I will never stop, waver or quit. I write; that is what I do, that is all I do, and nothing can stop me. When I die, my laptop is going with me….

This message of encouragement is not just for me, it is also for every newbie author out there, but especially for my friend Candace Bowser, who I know gets tired and discouraged. We are all in this together, my friend, and I say, “Pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and get on with being an author!”

Actually, 1,300,000 isn’t all that bad when you consider how many books are published every year worldwide. Wait a minute, hold on; I just brought up Amazon on my laptop. Holy smokers, my book just went to 1,298,000. Life is good!

Write on,

Mittster

Monday, February 7, 2011

I Hate Football

Three things I should never do: go to a casino, pick a line in the grocery store, or pick a team to win the Super Bowl (or any football game for that matter). Last night I again demonstrated my ability to pick the losing team while making fun of my wife and kids every time the Steelers made a good play.

The two first quarter touchdowns by the Packers should have been a warning, but I had watched the Steelers win important games after big first half deficits before. What, me worry? After watching the Packers lose three star defensive players to injuries, I just knew the game was in the bag.

It was at this point that I put my thumbs up and pretended they were little people talking to each other while attending the game. Lefty spoke first, “Oh, look, Righty, our team just made a touchdown.” Righty responded, “Looks like wifey's team is losing big time!” Then they both said in unison, “Nana, nana, na na, nana, nana, na, na. You are going lose, you are going to lose.” I patterned the skit after the TV show South Park.

I continued this little skit until the fourth quarter and time was running out for my team. My little guys hung their heads in shame and slunk out of the stadium, never to be seen by the eyes of man again. I became silent as the Green Bay Packers won the Super Bowl. I was now ready for the texting to start that would make my humiliation complete. My wife just looked at me, smiled and said, “You are such an idiot.”

That I am…that I am,

Mittster

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Love Life!

Yesterday was an excellent day. My wife, Sandy, and I met Leslie and Hoppy Menninger at Harry’s Hideaway Restaurant in Cornville, Arizona. We were celebrating the release of my newest murder mystery, Day Stalker, and we wanted to present Leslie a signed copy of the book. She had worked hard to make the book presentable for publication and we wanted to show our appreciation.

While we were sitting at our table waiting for our friends, my wife moved closer and whispered how much she loved me. A simple thing but monumental to me; it’s the spontaneous things in life that are exciting. I don’t think there is anything more wonderful than knowing someone loves you with all their heart. There is no doubt that Sandy loves me that way. She would have to, because my faults are many and she is a saint compared to me. I thank God up above for leading me to the most wonderful woman in the universe. February 21 will mark our sixteenth year of marriage and what a wonderful sixteen years they have been!

We had a fabulous lunch while joking with each other and laughing between mouthfuls of scrumptious food. It was obvious that dessert would be the straw that broke the camel’s back, but we didn’t care and dove into the sweet stuff with forks and enthusiasm. By the time we left the restaurant, the four of us were stuffed beyond hope and headed for our respective homes for TV and naps. Of course, my wife finished up the laundry while I dosed watching TV. That’s just the kind of person she is….

Yes, life is good, even in hard times and an uncertain world. I plan to turn every day into a microcosm of events that make my life last for an eternity every twenty-four hours, while not worrying about the end of life. The end will be a complete surprise and I will have the last laugh.

Write on,

Mittster

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Stop The Presses!

To help get the message out concerning my Tucson, Arizona, book signing of Day Stalker, February 12, at Hangover’s bar & grill at 22nd and Alvernon, I sent the Tucson Daily Citizen newspaper a press release. I was forced to e-mail the release to the person in charge of entertainment because there was no longer a specific address for press releases. The chances of it being printed are slim indeed.

I used to be able to send information concerning special events to any newspaper in the state and they would print a blurb. It seems that the industry is changing rapidly. No more free stuff – I suspect the economy and electronic media are the culprits. Soon you will be only reading the paper on a Kindle device or cell phones. What are we going to use for the bottom of our evil Meyer's parrot cage?

Like everything else; either keep up or drop out. I finally went online and put both murder mysteries in a Kindle format so folks could download and enjoy Evil in the Mirror and Day Stalker. We live in an electronic world and I am thankful that early on I stayed with the trend. Of course the young people are light-years ahead of me, but they are all headlong into video games, while I am trying to sell books to my peers. No competition there….

One thing does bother me; with my Website, blog, Twitter, Facebook and promotions, I have little time to write! There is a consolation prize though – every other author is dealing with the same dilemma. The author with the most electronic selling schemes wins the most fans!

Personally, I like tailgate selling. Everywhere I shop you can hear me asking the big question to anyone near me; “Do you like murder mysteries?” The majority either like them or know someone who does. I pass out business cards and many times sell books right on the spot. The best part is that everyone wants a signed book by a local author and they are willing to pay retail for the “autograph.” Little do they know the pleasure is all mine and I really hope they enjoy my books.

Write on,

Mittster

Friday, February 4, 2011

He Who Laughs First

He who laughs first gets laughed at last. Yes, I was making fun of all the people stuck up to their mud flaps in snow in the rest of the country while Arizona was basking in the warm sun. How was I to know we were headed for record-breaking cold throughout the state?

The problem of making fun of someone is that it always comes back to haunt you. Oh, well, at least my cockiness gave rise to some humor for a whole bunch of people who have little to laugh about. My only redemption is that I lived in Michigan for nine years and had a taste of -30 degrees and a boatload of snow.

I have an idea; why doesn’t everyone from the Midwest move to Arizona? Our state would be much warmer by the time you get here, and we could sell you some of the thousands of surplus and foreclosed homes that dot our landscape. You could be part of another construction boom!

Trust me; you will get used to cactus, scorpions, rattlesnakes, Gila monsters, and 118 degree heat. Besides, it really is a dry heat.... Did I ever tell you never trust a man who says “trust me”?

Write on,

Mittster

Thursday, February 3, 2011

What Darwin Missed

I am sitting here in my office looking at a calendar with a picture of two beautifully colored parakeets kissing on a tree branch in the wild. The picture struck me as odd in the sense that death from many sources could strike the two love birds down in an instant, but there they were kissing like they were in their own universe.

Our beautiful blue planet harbors a chilling reality. Only the strong survive and eat or be eaten is the rule. Even some plant life is carnivorous and no species is immune from being eaten by something big or small. This is the reality of evolution; this is the reality of life on the third planet from the sun.

There is also another reality not written in the text books. It is the reality and power of love. Every species on earth has the ability to love. Love is supposedly genetic in nature, but never associated with evolution. In the academic world, love is associated with the mating urge. “Animals don’t love; they just follow their instinct to propagate.” To this I say, “Bull poop!”

We humans are finally waking up to the fact that animals are far more intelligent than ever imagined. The size of a brain has always been equated to intelligence. Sometimes size does matter, but not in this case – small brains can have huge ideas. We have a Meyer’s parrot living with us, and when I look into his eyes, I see great intelligence and amazing psychic power. He sees into my mind and understands my thoughts. We communicate on a much higher level than when I talk to my neighbors.

So where is all this leading? Well, sometimes I need to be serious about my blog’s content. I would like my readers to take a minute and love whatever pet is close by. I mean really take the time to let your pet or pets know how much you love them. It’s great practice for loving our fellow human beings too.

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

All Work and No Play Sucks

"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy!" If you have the balls, click on dull boy. If not, read what I have plagiarized off the Internet and enjoy a good laugh. Or, do both and live a little!

I’m just saying no original blog today,

Mittster


"DICTIONARY FOR WOMEN'S PERSONAL ADS:

40-ish..........49
Adventurous..........Slept with everyone
Athletic..........No tits
Average looking..........Ugly
Beautiful..........Pathological liar
Contagious smile..........Does a lot of pills
Emotionally secure..........On medication
Feminist..........Fat
Free spirit..........Junkie
Friendship first..........Former very "friendly" person
Fun..........Annoying
New Age..........Body hair in wrong places
Open-minded..........Desperate
Outgoing..........Loud and embarrassing
Passionate..........Sloppy drunk
Professional..........Bitch
Voluptuous..........Very fat
Large frame..........Hugely fat
Wants soul mate..........Stalker

WOMEN'S ENGLISH:

1. Yes..........No
2. No..........Yes
3. Maybe..........No
4. We need..........I want
5. I am sorry..........you'll be sorry
6. We need to talk..........you're in trouble
7. Sure, go ahead..........you better not
8. Do what you want..........you will pay for this later
9. I am not upset..........of course I am upset, you moron!
10. You're very attentive tonight..........is sex all you think about?

MEN'S ENGLISH:

1. I am hungry..........I am hungry
2. I am sleepy..........I am sleepy
3. I am tired..........I am tired
4. Nice dress..........Nice cleavage!
5. I love you..........let's have sex now
6. I am bored..........Do you want to have sex now?
7. May I have this dance?..........I'd like to have sex with you
8. Can I call you sometime?..........I'd like to have sex with you
9. Do you want to go to a movie?..........I'd like to have sex with you
10. Can I take you our to dinner?..........I'd like to have sex with you
11. Those shoes don't go with that outfit..........I'm gay"

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

The Mother of all Nightmares

I wonder if there is an old folk’s home for authors like the one in Hollywood for retired actors. The only reason I am asking is because I had a nightmare last night and dreamt I was 101 years old peddling books like pencils on a street corner. I was wearing rags and my shoes were faded flip flops. I was still trying to sell my first orders of Evil in the Mirror and Day Stalker. I don’t know what happened to my third book, The Phoenix Code, which would have finished the trilogy. Guess I never got around to writing it.

My evil twin brother, Walt, rode by in the back of a big beautiful limousine and had his driver stop just long enough to buy a book. As they left, Walt waved goodbye with a wicked grin on his face. I do regret making him a famous villain in my books while I stand here in obscurity. You would think he would take me in, but I guess he is too busy being the world’s oldest movie star.

My wife left me for a younger man who was a successful author and had best sellers running out his ears. I guess I don’t blame her too much; after all, this street corner is no place for a woman. Besides, if I am ever going to be a bestselling author, I need to travel light and be able to sell on multiple corners. I do have a strategy; it has just taken a little longer than I figured to sell that first million books.

As I awoke this morning, it took a few moments to realize that it had all been just a bad dream. Walt was still more obscure than I, and my wife was sleeping next to me with the dogs cuddled nearby. I had clean PJs on and instead of flip flops, my warm slippers begged to be put on. I jumped out of bed and rushed to the computer with renewed vigor to finish The Phoenix Code, and sell more books lest the dream become a self-fulfilling prophesy. The moral of the story? Never, ever give up!

Write on,

Mittster