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There’s No Need to Shout!

Every marriage has its problems. And no one ever knows what goes on behind closed doors. You’d hope that after thirty-three years of being together, including thirteen years of marriage, any real disagreements would have been amicably settled long ago. Still, if you pressed an ear at our front door these days, you’re bound to hear shouting. But it’s not because we’re fighting. You see, I’ve suddenly lost my hearing due to a tumor in what used to be my one good ear. I guess, life happens. Fate comes for us all. But what makes this so difficult is that I actually had the same tumor in the same ear when I was twenty-one. Back then, they removed it and saved my hearing. But the surgeon warned it might come back. Lucky me. The prodigal returns.

Peace & Quiet

It’s the strangest thing to shower and not hear the water running. Or the timer on the stove. Or the phone ringing. The world has become a quiet place. But hopefully, this is a brief interlude that a surgeon can fix. And though I’ve tried to reframe the experience as a character-building exercise, I’m afraid the situation might be permanent. At night, old terrors haunt my dreams. I’m alone. No one likes me. No one wants to talk to me. There’s no hope for me. Of course, all of this nonsense only happens at night. During the day, I’m surrounded by love and caring messages from friends. So much for a healthy subconscious!

What Can I Hear?

Not the television, radio, or my husband, Jeff. The poor guy has had to stand very close to make himself understood, which honestly, isn’t so terrible. He always smells nice. And I’ve even snuck a kiss or two. Besides, I don’t mind being the center of his attention. It’s good that he has to look at me when he speaks so that I can read his lips. No more chasing after him as he goes from room to room talking. His attention is focused. And so is mine. This reminds me of the powerful message from the play Our Town, by Thornton Wilder. The protagonist agonizes that in life we don’t ever really look at each other. We miss the beauty of our existence. Well, if your husband is deaf, you have no choice but to look at him when you speak. Which makes me kind of a lucky guy in our town.

What’s Next?

I will definitely need surgery. Hopefully, by the time you read this, the surgery will be scheduled. Am I scared? Sure. But, I somehow think things will be okay. And if not, then I guess it wasn’t meant to be. And whatever happens, some things are just out of our control. But when you’re a type A personality, it isn’t easy to surrender. But one thing I am grateful for, aside from Jeff and my wonderful friends. I still have my writing to fall back on. Lucky for me, I do my best work when it’s quiet!

And Now, A Little Something Extra!

This month, I thought I’d share the video of the screaming goat. A friend shared it with me and it made me laugh. In many ways, maneuvering through our healthcare system can be a frustrating experience. So this goat says a lot about how I’ve been feeling at times. I hope you’ll check him out and laugh as I did. And until we meet again, have a great September!

 

 

 

 

Is There Such A Thing As A Zoom Wardrobe?

Lately, I’ve been struggling with my shirts. They’re getting a bit snug. Not just around the middle, but the shoulders too. Could it be added Covid weight? Or, has the dryer done its final spin? Either way, I’m torn about getting rid of the shirts. You see, on Zoom the shirts appear to fit. I know because when I’m on Zoom I’m often staring at myself. I don’t want to look. But it’s like coming across a traffic accident. My eyes are just drawn to the crash site.

My Favorite Shirt

I dislike clothes shopping. That makes it hard to part with the regular go-to shirts. You see, I like to wear the same thing over and over (in between washes, of course). I could get more creative. There are other choices in the closet. But change is hard. And even a new shirt might hang around for a few months until I’m comfortable putting it on. And then I have to force myself. Because I’m all about the familiar. It’s just a quirk of mine.

Different Colors

A few years back, I bought a red shirt. Big mistake. Red invites attention. I’ve heard that red cars attract more speeding tickets. And we all know that red is the official color of ambulances and fire trucks. It just takes a special guy to carry off red. Someone young. Someone sexy. Someone with more pep in their step. Someone who just isn’t me.

Zoom

On Zoom, black is my preferred color. Or non-color. And absolutely nothing with stripes or polka dots (does anyone still wear polka dots?). There is a large mixed media piece of art that hangs on the wall directly behind my desk. You can’t miss it on Zoom. The colors are vibrant; orange, red,  dark green, aqua, and purple. A black shirt seems to blend best. And though the art looks great on the wall, I’m glad I’m not wearing it.

And Now for Something Extra!

My latest novel, Boca by Moonlight, is now out on Amazon. George, a widower, struggles to come to grips with his life as a single man in Boca Raton, Florida. The novel is a mix of satire, family drama, and mystery. Take a moment to check out the book trailer. If you’ve ever lost a parent or found yourself suddenly immersed in the over-fifty dating scene, please consider adding Boca by Moonlight to your reading list. Until we meet again, all my best to you. Stay healthy. Stay safe!

Tire Pressure…Blood Pressure…Peer Pressure

The seasons are changing and in Arizona, that means it’s time to check the tires. If you’re like me, the last thing you want to do is bend down and put air in your tires. It isn’t hard. I know how to do it. I just hate doing it. And fortunately, there are plenty of places that will take care of it for you. But like all good things, you must wait in line. And of that, I’m not a big fan. But then waiting requires patience.

Blood Pressure Cuff

Patience is not my strong suit. And a lack of patience can adversely affect your blood pressure. This is why I have my own blood pressure cuff. You see, strokes run in my family. So when I get a stress headache, I worry that I might be experiencing high blood pressure. It’s one of the traits of the worried well. That group of people who see their ultimate demise in every minor ailment. I’m the club president. Now just to be clear, worried well is not the same as a hypochondriac. A hypochondriac fears illness. The worried well is just concerned that every minor ailment is the beginning of the end. Hmm. Maybe it is the same.

Peer Pressure Too?

Which leads me to peer pressure. Okay. I know that wasn’t an elegant segue. But when you’re writing a short piece, you don’t always have the time to finesse the transition. Anyhow, with my newly released novel, Boca by Moonlight (what do you mean you didn’t know it’s available on Amazon?) I’ve come to respect the power of peer pressure. For the launch, I worked with a wonderful group of friends and family to help get the word out. And I’ve been holding my breath waiting for the reviews to start rolling in. So far, they seem positive. Which is terrific. For those of you who wonder how an author celebrates the launch of a new book, well, most of it is done hiding under the bed in a fetal position.

And Now for A Little Something Extra!

This week, we will be participating in a Women’s Literary Fiction and a  Book Sweeps promotion. If you’d like to grab a free ebook of my debut novel, The Intersect, this is the time to do it. The book will be available through both sites. And may I suggest, you check out the other authors too. And before I forget, Happy Thanksgiving to you and your family. Can you believe that we’re approaching the end of another year? Amazing. Enjoy that turkey dinner!

Is It Time to Go Back to the Movies?

Okay, I admit it. Since the CDC confirmed that there was little chance that vaccinated people could catch and spread Covid, I grabbed a mask and raced off to my nearest multiplex. And boy, was I surprised. No one was there. It was as if the entire theater had been built solely for my movie viewing pleasure. No lines for popcorn. No concerns about noisy neighbors. I was alone. Totally alone. But then, it was a Tuesday morning.

Twilight Zone

When you sit in an empty theater, your mind wanders. Even during the previews. And if you’re a writer, well, you’re prone to daydreaming. That’s when story ideas are born. But imagination can work against you. In that darkened theater, I thought about a Twilight Zone episode. The one where a guy finds himself alone on earth. Running through empty city streets, screaming, hoping to find someone to answer his frantic call for help. It was creepy. Apocalyptic. And I was now that man.

New York City

As someone who generally enjoys being alone, New York City is not the ideal place to be raised. You can’t be alone there. Not when you share a bedroom with an older brother. Or, live in an eight-story building with twenty-two apartments on each floor. To survive the crush of humanity, and I don’t just mean in the elevator, you learn to adapt. On public transportation, you read a book. When you walk the streets, you look down. Anything to narrow your field of focus. To block out all those faces. And for some of us, even these little tricks can’t ease social anxiety. This is why Arizona is a breath of fresh air. It might be hot, but it’s never crowded. Except, if you insist on shopping at Costco on the weekends. Then it’s “buyer beware”.

Back to the Theater

So, there I was. Alone at the movies. In one of those big, cushy chairs. And as I sometimes do when a movie is a bit slow, I drifted off. I hate when that happens. It’s like channeling Uncle Morty. You remember him. That elderly uncle at the family reunion. He falls asleep on the sofa. Ugh! Anyway, when I awoke, the movie was over and the lights were up. I was startled. You see, nodding off in a darkened theatre is one thing. But wakening up with the lights up, that’s a different story. Plus, I missed the end of the movie.

Napping

So, if you’re wondering if this is the time to go back to the movies, I say yes if you’re vaccinated. And if you’re very cautious, wear a mask. Make sure you choose an off time to eliminate crowds. But most importantly, nap before you go. Dark, cool places, can be very relaxing. And what’s the point of watching a movie only to miss the ending? That’s no fun.

Now, Something A Little Extra!

This month, we’re participating in a Book Cave promotion. You can grab a free ebook of After the Fall and also enter a contest to win a $25 gift card to the ebook retailer of your choice. Big fun!

Zoom: When Can We Go Back to Face-to-Face Meetings?

I’ve participated in a lot of Zoom meetings over the past twelve months. Mostly, professional meetings with other writers. And though it’s a great way to connect, there is a downside. For one, Zoom projects your “live” image on the screen. This means you’re forced to look at yourself. And if the meeting goes on for an hour or more, that’s a lot of camera time. Of course, you can always change the viewing mode from “group” to “speaker”. But that doesn’t really help. Somehow, my eye always manages to track back to the little box with my name on it. Oh! There I am. The one slouching.

So How Do I Look?

By now, I should know the answer. Zoom is like sitting in front of a mirror. For some, that might be a good thing. For me? Not so much. And why would anyone ever want to do that? Well, it’s probably fine for the world’s most beautiful people. But none of them ever pops in on the screen when I hit “join with video”.  Not Brad Pitt. Not Brad Paisley. Not Bradley Cooper. Nope. Just me. Brad Graber. My face. And let me tell you—I can use a little bit of sun.

Is This The Right Angle?

There’s supposedly a lot you can do to improve the way you look on Zoom. Something about lighting and placement of the camera. I don’t bother with those details. Instead, I wonder if I have a good side. So I shift about, adjusting my laptop to try to get just the right angle. My grandmother used to say that some people look better from a distance. This makes me wonder if I should set my laptop on the other side of the room.  Hmm. Now there’s a thought.

Lift Your Head

I’ve noticed my head drooping halfway through any Zoom session. My mouth hangs open as if I’m about to ask a question. I’m not. I’m just getting drowsy. Surely no one would object if I took a snooze with my eyes open. Or would they? Instead, I blink hard and struggle to stay awake. It might be age—but I say it’s the Zoom Glow. Zoom is zooming me out. Like hypnosis. Did someone just ask me to quack like a duck? If they did, I probably would.

Fellow Zoomers

I’ve been impressed by my fellow Zoomers. Especially the women. They all look wonderful from my side of the desk. That is—when I’m not busy staring at myself. The women have particularly excellent posture. And amazing poise and manner. During one Zoom session, a pervert commandeered the screen. The Zoom was hacked. And for a minute or two, we were all shocked to watch an adult man do very adult things. Modesty prevents me from going into further detail.  Let’s just say that when I was a kid living in New York City, flashers were spotted around town. Now, they’ve upped their game. Welcome to the virtual world.

Now for Something Extra

This week we’re doing a special .99 cent ebook Amazon promotion for After the Fall through April 9th. If you haven’t had a chance to grab a copy of the ebook, this would be the time. And the good news is that the ebook has hit Amazon’s Best Seller List landing in the #10 spot. Of course, those rankings change by the moment. But I took a picture of it anyway. And finally, I may be a bit late, but I’d like to wish you and your family a Happy Easter and Passover. May we all gather together in a huge celebration when the pandemic is finally over. We can do it on Zoom!

 

If You Can’t Say Something Nice…

I’ve been thinking lately about the lessons I learned from my parents. They were a preachy twosome. Always imparting some sort of wisdom. Did I always listen? Of course not. What kid ever does? And yet, somehow, I’ve internalized the advice. Which can make the world a very confusing place. You see, when you learn one thing and then see others behaving differently, it’s problematic. Call it a clash of morals, ethics, or just bad behavior run amok. Either way, a bell rings in my head. I call it, inconsistency. And for me, inconsistency is what makes writing novels such a rich process.

Wisdom to Drive You Insane

  1. “Do as I say, not as I do.” Whoever came up with this gem needs a few sessions with a good therapist. We model for others through our behavior, or lack, thereof.  If it isn’t good enough advice for you to follow, please don’t pawn it off on me.
  2. “Rules were made to be broken.” Well, this one is just silly. Perhaps they shouldn’t have been rules in the first place.
  3. “If you loved me—you’d know what to do.” Nope. I’m not a mind reader. If you want something, tell me. I’m a simple guy. I’ll understand.
  4. “Words matter.” True. But actions matter more. You can’t behave badly and then convince me that you’re well-intended based on what you say. I won’t buy it.
  5. “If you can’t say something nice—say nothing at all.” Okay. I agree. But too often, the opposite is far more interesting. Which explains the success of stand-up comics like Joan Rivers, Rodney Dangerfield, and Kathy Griffin. Not to mention, the rating success of some cable news outlets.
  6. “There’s a right and a wrong way to do it.” Where’s Emily Post when you need her? After the last 4 years, I think America could use a little guidance on proper etiquette. Especially, out in public. If there’s something “right” to do, I’d like to read up on it.
  7. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times.” Well, tell me again. Some of us are just slow learners. Or hard of hearing. Or both.
  8. “Tell a lie often enough, it becomes true.” Hmm. I still think it’s a lie. But it becomes a mighty effective propaganda tool. Joseph Goebbels comes immediately to mind.
  9. “It’s neither here nor there.” Then, I guess it’s nowhere. Good. Who needed it anyway?
  10. “Think before you speak.” Great advice. I’d add, “Speak less. Listen more.”
  11. “There’s a time and place for everything.” If the time isn’t now, when would that be? If the place isn’t here, why bother?
  12. “Nothing lasts forever.” Thank goodness. I can’t wait till Covid is behind us. Anyone for a cruise to Italy?
  13. “Smile and the world smiles with you. Cry, and you cry alone.” No one needs fair-weather friends. If you’re suffering, reach out. Other people are there to help.

And Now, A Little Something Extra

This week, What’s That Growing in My Sour Cream? will be available as a free ebook through a humor promotion to help us forget 2020. Please take a moment and check out the promotion which runs through January 25th. And as always, stay safe. Your health and you are so very important!

 

Goodbye to The Sign Wars

The election is finally over. The robocalls have stopped. No more text messages asking for money. No more reminders to get out and vote. The campaigns were successful. There was a record turnout. Now, we can all go back to using our smartphones for things that truly matter. Like googling the name of that actress who appeared in the movie you saw ten years ago. Or checking the take-out menu of your favorite Chinese restaurant. I’ll have the chicken lo mein and the barbeque spareribs. Or looking up the meaning of that odd word you spotted the other day. Taradiddle. No, I’m not going to tell you what it means. You’ll have to google it.

Cable News

I swear (hand in the air) “not” to watch any more cable news. At our house, I’d been jumping back and forth between the three majors giving myself emotional whiplash. That is now over. Instead,  my time on the sofa will be spent in intellectual pursuits. I will read a good book. Hello Doris Kearns Goodwin. I will toy with The New York Times crossword puzzle. Why is it so darn hard? Gosh, I love that puzzle. I will nap. After all, isn’t that what the sofa is really for? Based on my experience, I nap best sitting up straight, head drooped forward like a ten-pound bowling ball. Painful? You bet. But it still qualifies as a nap as long as your eyes are closed.

The Signs Are Gone

Heading into the election, our neighborhood went rogue. We too participated. Block by block, political signs popped up. Not on every lawn, but in selective pockets of the neighborhood. And slowly, we learned the political leanings of our neighbors. And for what purpose?  I’ve never voted for a candidate based on a sign planted on anyone’s lawn. If knowledge is power, this kind of knowledge is powerfully alarming. Because no time in our history has an election been more contentious. Except perhaps Kennedy/Nixon. Nixon/McGovern. Bush/Gore. Hmm. Come to think of it, history is littered with examples of contentious races. To be political is inherently contentious. To be American is inherently political. Good for us. We get choices. You’ve got to love being an American.

And Now, A Little Something Extra

I’ve been quietly working on my next novel Boca by Moonlight which should be available June 2021. George, a widower in his sixties, struggles to come to grips with a new life in Boca Raton. If you’ve ever lost a parent or your parent has remarried, this book is for you.  If you wonder how mature men navigate being widowers, you’ll enjoy reading about George and his friends, Herbie, and Benny. They’re bound to steal your heart.

 

No One Is Perfect!

Okay, I admit it. I’ve been eating badly for the last few weeks. Did I say weeks? I meant over the last two months. Okay—three months. I’m aware cookies, cake, and candy, are poor choices. No one from the CDC has suggested such foods can protect us from the virus. In fact, experts say that hypertension and diabetes are co-morbidity factors attributed to death from coronavirus. And still, I pay no attention. It’s like I’m running through a supermarket with no face mask. Or hugging strangers on the street. Drinking water out of my pool (we have ducks that swim in there from time to time). Why can’t I get the message? To be healthy, I have to eat healthily (sounds awkward, but grammatically correct).

Food Is Medicine

Clearly, peanut butter cups are not what the doctors had in mind. Nor potato chips. They’d recommend fresh fruits and vegetables. Check. Limited portion sizes. Check. Protein, the size of your fist. Check. But the actual meal isn’t the problem. It’s all the noshing between meals. Those snacks first showed up around March 30th. Which by the way, coincides perfectly with the date of Arizona’s Covid-19 lockdown.

Knowing Better Isn’t Always Doing Better

Years ago, I spent a week at Canyon Ranch in Tuscon, Arizona. They billed themselves as a Lifestyle and Wellness Center. I called it a Health Spa. The less tactful, referred to it as a Fat Farm. I learned a lot about health and nutrition. The impact of lifestyle choices. The importance of exercise to reduce stress. And, that we are what we eat. If so, over the last few weeks I’ve become a giant vat of peanut butter. Someone, please pass the jelly.

Control Is Around the Corner

This week, I’m recommitting myself to getting back to being healthy. No more snacks after 6 pm. No more desserts. If there’s ever been a time to maximize your health, this has got to be that moment. Of course, there will be slip-ups. Times when hiding places will accidentally be revealed. Like the top shelf of that cabinet that requires a step ladder to reach. Or the freezer, outside in the garage. Or behind the soup cans in the kitchen pantry. Mistakes are bound to happen. No one is perfect!

Added Bonus:

This week The Intersect and After the Fall will be in a promotion for those who are subscribers to Kindle Unlimited. Take a moment to check it out here. And stay safe.

 

 

 

Pass Me That Face Mask!

Why is there so much push back about wearing a face mask? Aside from the potential community benefits, there are lots of other advantages. For instance, I don’t need to shave as often. No one can see my gray whiskers, adorable as they might be. And I can finally toss that packet of Certs. My breath doesn’t need to be minty fresh. And with my mask on, neither does yours. Now that’s a win-win.

Smiling?

For those of us who don’t smile often, a face mask is a perfect accessory. Am I smiling? No one can tell. Finally, my eyes and voice get to do the heavy lifting. My sour expression—but a fleeting memory. Never again will someone mistake me for being unhappy. With my face mask, I’m the friendliest guy in town. The life of the party!

Let’s Pretend

Behind a face mask, you can be anyone you want. Batman. Superman. The Phantom of the Opera. Of course, that last suggestion requires you’re able to carry a tune. And if you love candy, every day is Halloween when you wear a face mask. Check out some of the amazing masks available on-line. Big fun. And if you grew up in the 70s, you can even pretend to be Chad Everrett from Medical Center. That guy was always in a mask in the Operating Room.  Actually, now that I think about it, he was mostly on the beach without a shirt. Never mind.

Release Your Inhibitions

With a mask on, you can express your opinions in public without fear of retribution. Go ahead. Stick out your tongue at the jerk who jumps the line at the post office. When someone does something blatantly stupid, place yourself in a circle of people (6-feet apart, please) and let it rip. No one will be able to prove it was you who shouted those insults. You’ll be protected like the late ventriloquist, Edgar Bergen. They’ll never see your lips moving.

The Best for Last

Of course, I have no business pressuring anyone to wear a face mask. If the CDC can’t convince you, who am I to try? And yet, I can’t help but think it’s worth the effort. Maybe, it’s because I’m a former healthcare administrator. Or, I have a B.A. in Biology. Or, it just might be the experience I had this past Winter with a bout of non-COVID pneumonia. I remember that scary feeling of not being able to breathe. Trust me. You wouldn’t like it.

Bonus Round

This week, I’ll be participating in a Let’s Share Some Fun Reads promotion. If you haven’t purchased a copy of What’s That Growing in My Sour Cream? this is a great time to grab the ebook. The freebie promotion runs June 27th through July 3rd. Be sure to click here.

Bunnies to the Left, Bunnies to the Right

Is it my imagination or are there bunnies everywhere this Easter? Dust bunnies, that is. Floating past me in the kitchen. Dancing along the hallway. Waving from the corner of the dining room. How can this be? And more importantly, why haven’t I noticed these animated tumbleweeds before?

Quarantine

As a writer, I’ve worked from home for years. But with COVID-19, we’re no longer using a cleaning service. In fact, we haven’t welcomed anyone into our disease-free fortress for at least six weeks. But if I ever wondered why we had a cleaning service, I know now. Gosh, two people can create quite a mess.

Bunny?

Which makes me wonder. Why is that tumbleweed called a dust bunny? Is it because the word bunny is cute?  Not exactly. I’ve recently learned it’s because of the fluffiness of the dust, which by the way, according to a 2009 University of Arizona study, dust is comprised of “a mixture of organic matter such as dead skin cells and organic fibers, soil tracked-in on footwear, and particulate matter derived from the infiltration of outdoor air.” Egad. There’s nothing cute about that!

Where’s the Vacuum?

In our house, we have two vacuum cleaners. The upright and the canister. Why do we have two? I’m not sure. I can only assume we each once had a preferred model? But to be honest, neither of us has used a vacuum in years. The dustbuster, sure. But a vacuum? Nope. So both vacuums have been sitting in our garage collecting dust. Until now. And with a flip of a switch, a pull on a cord, we’ve begun the arduous process of vacuuming. Discovery #2. You have to have a very young back to excel at vacuuming.

And the Rest of the House?

It’s obvious we need to do more than just vacuum. Oh well. These are the times that make men hardy. Or something like that. And so we’ll schedule a cleaning ritual. Vacuum, dust, clean countertops, and attack the dreaded toilet. This’s all doable. After all, we are mighty men. Capable and strong. Or, maybe, we can just clean when the dust bunny problem gets out of hand. I like that idea. After all, how much dirt can we really create? Hmm. Based on what I’m seeing around right now—quite a lot!

One Last Thought

Don’t forget to grab a copy of my latest book: What’s That Growing in My Sour Cream? It’s a touch of Erma Bombeck with a sprinkle of David Sedaris and just a hint of Andy Rooney.

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