WHY HARLEY-DAVIDSON?

My tribute to Sturgis and Harley-Davidson

WHY HARLEY-DAVIDSON?

Native Americans call it “The Iron Pony,” a description well put. When you straddle the leather seat, there is a feeling not unlike when a cowboy mounts a bucking bronco at a rodeo. You know something awesome is about to happen, but you’re not quite sure what.

Starting a hog for the first time is part of a love affair that will last forever. When that “Twin V” engine comes to life between your legs, you will have an idea of how that bronco rider must feel.

Nothing on the planet sounds like a Harley. At an idle, it has a low chugging beat, slow and strong like a rhinoceros just before the charge. The weight and massiveness of the machine is deceptive, even a little intimidating. Your first thought is that if this bike falls, it’s all over but the crying. Oh, well, either ride it or sell it! Once you let the clutch out and start to move, magic happens. The ponderous, chrome hog becomes a graceful lady, responsive to your every touch. Each gear is a different dimension to her character. Every mile per hour faster is a study in stability.

You look at your companion riders in front, on the side and behind. A knowing smile spreads quickly. You are part of an American legend. Ride your “Iron Pony” into the sunset. A great adventure waits!

Mitt Winstead 1996

Write on,

Mittster

More Looney Tunes

Save these for Monday morning - you will need the laughs.

I remember drinking beer through a staw...OK, I don't remember - someone had to tell me the next day.

No comment!

Not necessarily in that order!

This sign is not far from the nation's capitol

This sign is also not far from the nation's capitol

This sign is not far from the next presidential debate

No need to comment

Sage advice

I'm going to use this ploy to sell books

That be me

He looks familiar - I think he used to be my proctologist

Have a great Saturday - I'm going to jump off a bridge now!

Write on,

Mittster

Fee-fi-fo-fum

“Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman!” Holy crap, no wonder I was traumatized as a youngster. The bedtime stories read to me by Grandma would scare the devil himself. I would never sleep with my hands or feet hanging over the bed to become food for the monster living underneath. As a matter of fact – I still won’t sleep with any part of my body hanging over the bed.

What about Little Red Riding Hood? The big, nasty bad wolf eats Grandma, then gets in her clothes, jumps in bed and waits for Little Red Riding Hood to show up with a food basket so she too can become a gourmet dinner. This story surely made young girls feel warm and fuzzy.

Let’s not forget Hansel and Gretel. This little ditty has a wicked witch enticing a young girl and boy into a gingerbread house so she can pop them into a boiling pot of water for a tasty human stew. Swell, now we are into cannibalism. I know I wouldn’t eat gingerbread for many years after this story.

Oh, yes, and The Three Little Pigs come to mind. To this day I am not comfortable in any house unless it is made of brick. No way am I becoming pig meat to a gnarly wolf!

Little Miss Muffet, sat on a tuffet,
Eating her curds and whey;
Along came a spider, who sat down beside her
And frightened Miss Muffet away.
Is it any wonder spiders scare the crap out of us?

Alice in Wonderland, now this is a wonderful book Mum used to read to us when we were little tykes. The only problem was that it reminded me of our house and life. All the characters Alice met resembled aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews and neighbors who visited us. What a nutty family. I bet they too were read fairy tales when they were young.

Last, but not least are the ghost stories our parents used to tell us on Halloween. The one I will never forget not only scarred me emotionally, but physically too. As Mom came to the end of the very scary story, she swung her arms and hands out and down as she screamed, thus scaring the crap out of us and hitting me in the family jewels all in one fell swoop. Not hard to imagine my shriek of horror and pain. While my two brothers and sisters thought it hilarious, I found the vomiting disgusting and demeaning.

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Free Book Writing Course

I really don't like the idiot's guide to this, that or the other thing. Not because it is demeaning and politically incorrect, but rather because it's too far to the left to describe me. Dolt fits me rather nicely. Although, I do have some pride; it's Mr. Dolt to you!

Since today's blog is a book-writing course, I will get on with it.

A. Screw what anyone has ever told you about writing. You can write and be a dolt at the same time.

B. If I can write a novel, even Alfred E. Newman can write one.

C. Author newbies can't make any money writing. This is true, but in today's economy, you can't make any money anyway. At least you can be creative while eating peanut butter and jelly sammies.

D. There are no conventional publishers that will take on your book. This is also true, but you can sell gold jewelry and hire a POD (Publish on Demand) publisher.

E. If you are passionate about your desire to write a book, the book will magically appear on Amazon.com. This is false, but if you work half as hard writing your book as you did trying to figuring out reasons why you can't write, it will appear on Amazon.com and your pride level will top out in the stratosphere.

F. Your book idea will be so good that other people will promote it. False again; you will be promoting your books until you leave the planet. Writing and promoting are your job, but not to worry, both are fun, especially when you sign your first book for your first customer!

Evil in the Mirror

G. How do you actually start writing a book? It's easy; write one word, then two, then a sentence. Sit back and read your first sentence. Write other sentences until you have a paragraph. Sit back and read your first paragraph. Keep writing until you have a chapter. Once you have a chapter, sit back and read it. If it excites you no end, keep writing. If you fall asleep, it's all over but the crying. You have just discovered you have no passion and you need to try finger painting. Don't be too worried about mistakes. Proofing and editing can be done by others. If you have no friends to help with fine tuning your book, sell some more gold jewelry. You’re going to need the money.

H. There is no way I can figure out how to copyright my book and all the other stuff I see in the pages of other books. Again, not to worry...the POD publisher will handle all the technical stuff. Great, one less reason for you to procrastinate.

I. When you run out of gold jewelry to sell, there is always your first born. Never give up or give in…there are worse ways not to earn a living.

Write on,

Mittster

The Eyes Have It

After writing my first novel, I started using the Internet to promote my book, while writing like a mad hatter to finish the sequel. I became involved with a Web site, Twitter and Facebook. I also starting having book signings anywhere I was welcome and a few places I wasn’t. I would even ask people in stores if they liked murder mysteries. If they did, I was on them like a cheap TV commercial. Much to my surprise, I even sold books at yard sales.

After three years of meeting other newbie authors in person and on the Web, I have come to the realization that we all have three things in common. The first and most important is passion. In my lifetime I have not met a more passionate group of people. It’s palatable in nature and almost like you could cut the passion with a knife. Each and every one of us could talk for hours about our work – not in an egotistical way, but in a passionate way. We absolutely love what we do!

The second is the look in our eyes. I have looked in the eyes of many authors and the result is always the same. There is a fire behind those eyes and they burn bright with intelligence, eagerness, awareness and (of course) passion. Sometimes it can be a little disconcerting because it’s like looking into a mirror and I wonder if my eyes look so intense. I have never been able to see in my eyes what I see in others, but friends have assured me that I have “the look.”

The third thing is universal craziness. Yes, we all must surely be nuts and close to certifiable. Any person who spends every waking moment of every day writing, promoting, facing rejection and ridicule along with praise from some and a stoning from others, must be crazy. With every positive come just as many negatives. Selling your books is like selling vacuum cleaners door to door. We know our work is very good because we put years into writing and promoting it, but that is never enough to become a “best seller.” Frustration is the mother of insanity and sometimes it’s enough to put us in a padded cell.

My hat is off to the hundreds of newbie writers who have the passion and internal fortitude to attempt to write a novel. The journey is fraught with danger, disappointment and rejection; but at the same time, it can be overwhelming with the pride of accomplishment that you have done something not many ever do in their lifetimes. You wrote and published a novel. It is even more exciting if you have written more than one.

What keeps me from the padded cell? I refuse to succumb until I finish my third novel. I keep procrastinating because once it is finished; my wife will surely have me locked away in the loony bin.

I’m just saying,

Mittster

It's All In My Head

Consider fifty years of construction, starting with being an apprentice for four years while going to night school after working all day; then on to being a project manager for millions of dollars worth of new schools to cap a career. This and all the learning in between stored in a brain that still works well, but the brain case grows old and is beginning to wear out.

Over the years, I have wondered why learn at all? When we die it is lost and no one benefits. All the learning is wasted. When you are gone there is no one to teach what has been learned. The thought depressed me a little and I began trying to figure out how to leave something behind that could benefit young people as they began their careers.

My first thought was to write a book about construction. I started it many times, but the content put me to sleep. Eventually I started writing murder mysteries that basically have no social redeeming value (except maybe – don’t get murdered).

Amazon.com

Amazon.com

They are great for people who love to read that sort of thing, but what about the 50 years of construction experience in my brain that will be lost forever when I leave the planet?

Enter my insatiable desire to learn things scientific. I watch The Science Channel and any other channel that teaches me about science and the cosmos.

Through The Wormhole with Morgan Freeman

I have been known to Google questions about our universe and the scientists who study it with great delight…even though it seems the more I learn, the more I need to learn. Each answer poses yet more questions, but that is the nature of infinity. Everything goes on forever, including questions.

One thing I have learned that has helped me cope with the question of losing knowledge when we die is that information is never lost. Physics teaches us that all information, no matter what state it has become, can, theoretically, be remade to its original state at the molecular level. In other words, the atom can always be re-arranged back to its original configuration.

Physics also teaches us that atoms contain the information of all things past, present and future. Soon scientists using quantum physics will produce computers using atoms instead of chips to produce machines that will revolutionize our world. Just think, a machine that can store your life’s learning and can be studied by future generations. Our life’s learning gleaned from a voice command. What an exciting world it will be! Sometimes I wish I could believe in re-incarnation so I could come back as a computer student, but with my luck – I would come back as a roll of toilet paper. I know the toilet paper information would never be lost. That’s what scares me!

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Will peace ever come?

A female CNN journalist heard about a very old Jewish man who had been going to the Western Wall to pray, twice a day, every day, for a long, long time.

So she went to check it out. She went to the Western Wall and there he was, walking slowly up to the holy site.

She watched him pray and after about 45 minutes, when he turned to leave, using a cane and moving very slowly, she approached him for an interview.

"Pardon me, sir, I'm Rebecca Smith from CNN. What's your name?

"Morris Feinberg," he replied.

"Sir, how long have you been coming to the Western Wall and praying?"

"For about 60 years."

"60 years! That's amazing! What do you pray for?"

"I pray for peace between the Christians, Jews and the Muslims."

"I pray for all the wars and all the hatred to stop."

"I pray for all our children to grow up safely as responsible adults and to love their fellow man."

"I pray that politicians tell us the truth and put the interests of the people ahead of their own interests."

"How do you feel after doing this for 60 years?"

"Like I'm talking to a fucking wall."