Yesterday I had a funny situation happen with Yuppies.
See, I grew up in Marin, and I’m fairly accustomed to the kind of weird mix of ageing hippies and new age yuppies that have infested that once happy playground of my youth, but even so I had to laugh at a funny situation when I pulled in to gas up the truck.
I spent the day building my Dad and Stepmom a new deck and storage shed combination (which would have gone A LOT faster if my Uncle the Carpenter hadn’t shown up and slowed the entire process down, but that’s a different rant), and by the end of it all I was a mess.
Sunburned neck, four days of stubble, ripped jeans, scuffed up combat boots, dirt all over my face, leather jacket, I pulled into the gas station and hopped out of my dirty truck with the dog in the back seat and dents in the bumper to walk over to the automatic payment machine.
As I did, I came up on a Yuppie Dude getting out of the passenger seat of the immaculate BMer. His Yuppie Chick at the wheel. Both of them straight out of a young republicans article in GQ. Dude had fashionably cut blonde hair, slate blue shirt, light gray slacks, loafers and glasses. She was wearing a skirt and a button down white shirt and had her hair pulled back in a bun.
He was at the machine and his face shifted as I walked up.
“You go ahead,” he said, stepping back quickly.
“Thanks,” I said simply and plugged in my number. But as I turned around, I realized Yuppie Chick was watching me carefully, with the slight tinge of fear in her eyes, and he was simply milling about the passenger door, not sure what to do.
As realization hit, I knew… I had to fuck with this shit.
Going back to my car, I pulled out a couple of quarts of oil, an empty water bottle and my buck knife.
I walked back towards their car, flicking the knife open.
Then punched it into end of the water bottle to cut it off and make a funnel for the oil. Oh, the lovely sound of tearing something up with a knife. Tossed the refuse into the trash and popped the hood of the truck.
They watched me the entire time, staring.
And as I closed the hood, put the gas cap back on and walked to the driver’s door, I couldn’t help but wink at her. She looked away quickly.
Giggles on my part, I admit.
The other thing I couldn’t help thinking was, My God, you two must have the most boring sex. But who knows. ;-)
"Why shouldn't truth be stranger than fiction? Fiction, after all, has to make sense."
—Mark Twain
So, a friend of mine asked why I haven't been posting in my blog here. The short version is I've actually been using LJ for posts instead. Even so, I thought I'd catch up with things here.
Since last time you joined us...
The job at the radio station fell through. Six weeks in. The funny bit about it is why. It was really for two reasons as far as I can see. One was I'm a 32 year old single straight male living in San Francisco that was trying to manage a community radio station where 25% of the community was retired, and the rest was mostly families and Hispanics. Oh well.
But the other bit was more amusing. It was the Seven Dirty Words that did me in. Turns out that the real meat of why they let me go was they received a couple of complaints about my use of the Seven Dirty Words while I was training people on what they could and could not say on the radio.
Yeah, that's right. Training. Not on the air. Not using them in anger. Nope. I read them out of a book. A book about the FCC rules.
Does this seem silly to you? Sure does to me.
Other than that, the Big Dave Special story didn't win the competition, but it was an honor to be nominated and blah blah blah. I'm now trying to get it published in Azimov's, but I've yet to hear back from them.
I'd since moved into an office space arrangement at the Cracktory, as part of the Bay Area Motor Club. I get high speed access to do my freelance writing, and do a little customer service to help out. Other than that, the Thunderdome benefit is coming up next Thursday, and I'm trying to pitch a bunch of stories to the regular pubs to get some movement on the freelance writing side. And still looking for work.
The book is coming along, and I'm (for better or worse!) starting to think about the next novel I'll tackle for NaNo this coming November.
So that's the update. More later I suppose.
This actually came up in conversation with friends the other day, and they had no idea about it. So once again I'm posting it.
Share the information around.
Cause I worry about my brother, who is 19, and a number of friends that are just pushing that 26 mark.
http://www.congress.org/congressorg/issues/alert/?alertid=5834001&content_dir=ua_congressorg
Why isn't this being covered and discussed over and over again? Why aren't the nations sources of information using this rich fodder to inform the populace of what their leaders are going to be doing to their sons and daughters?
And the sad thing is, I'm all for military service. I still lament at times that I didn't serve when I was younger. This is because I love my country, and I believe this country does need to be protected through force of arms at times. But I DON'T TRUST this government! I lack faith in our current leadership.
You know, I can't find a journalism job to save my life, and yet stories about this and other major issues are not getting written. What the Hell is wrong with this situation?
And I can't help but think that this current administration is at the heart of the matter, and I'm not sure how they pulled it off. They've managed to ban pictures and stories being done about dead soldiers coming home from Iraq, and if you ask a question that the White House doesn't like while in their press room Guess What! You're not invited back to the press room! And hey, if you disagree with the administration,"if you're not with us,you're against us" sounds familiar right?
I read a recent statistic that 51% of journalists are worried about the path that our profession is on, and feel that things are not getting better in covering news. This is an untenible situation.
I'm reminded of these famous quotes from one of our founding fathers...
"The basis of our governments being the opinion of the people, the very first object should be to keep that right; and were it left to me to decide whether we should have a government without newspapers or newspapers without a government, I should not hesitate a moment to prefer the latter." --Thomas Jefferson to Edward Carrington, 1787. ME 6:57
"The only security of all is in a free press. The force of public opinion cannot be resisted when permitted freely to be expressed. The agitation it produces must be submitted to. It is necessary, to keep the waters pure." --Thomas Jefferson to Lafayette, 1823. ME 15:491
I got some good news this morning from Ireland.
Here’s the short version. One of my stories has been selected as one of five finalists for an international science fiction competition, the James White Award.
This is a great honor. But what’s even better about it is that the story is about somebody a lot of you know. James Howe.
The story is called The Big Dave Special, and I wrote it for Big Dave and Judy’s wedding (of course, it took me a couple of years to finish it, and by that time, James had made his appearance already! ;-)
The James White Award is for unpublished works from new/non professional authors. It’s named for Irish Sci-Fi writer James White, and more information about it is here: http://www.jameswhiteaward.com/index.php
The winner of the competition will be announced in Blackpool! No idea if I could make it out there, but wouldn’t that be cool?
So, wish me luck.
Apparently they’re going to try and put all the finalist stories online, but if you really want to read it, let me know and I’ll send you a copy.
Oh, and yes, I freely admit that the story might be a bit of a ringer, since it’s set mostly in a bar and the title refers to a shot of whisky with a pear cider chaser, but you gotta love those Irish.
I love that you did this!! Very impressive! Please, continue writing with more, updated yuppie scare-tactics!