Monday, October 28, 2013

Is there anybody out there?
This is a question I often ask myself for no other reason other than the fact that I am curious.
As I sit here in my room at my computer desk with Creedence Clearwater Revival playing away and the telly firmly off, I have these thoughts. I can't see anyone, can't hear anyone and don't particularly want to. Much like when I was in jail really apart from I am in much nicer surroundings, can go anywhere I want with no return time, car sitting outside, glass near at hand, but...and as everyone knows, there is always a but with me; But, but how do I know? Someone once said, "It is the same for everyone when you are alone at night in an empty room," and it's true. Even if I was in jail right now it would make no real difference I don't think.
All around me in the houses and cottages there are a thousand stories, every one worth hearing probably, exactly the same as in jail. There will be happy folk, miserable folk, worried, careless, drunk, dreamers, depressed, you name it. Who knows what is going through the heads around me, all in private too.
So I ask myself yet again, is there anybody out there?

Just like John Steinbeck

So, there I was, doing my impressions of John Steinbeck, minding my own business, typing away industriously like a proper little scribe. Everything was cosy, just the bedside light on apart from my screen. I had music playing softly in the background and my dog was asleep on my feet under the desk.
Let me tell you about my dog, Tara. She is a German Shepherd and is only about two sizes down from a grizzly bear with teeth to match. She's no bother apart from being very strong with a penchant to shove her head into me and push me around when she wants me to scratch her ears. She thinks the car is her own personal transport and likes to sit in the driver seat with her head out of the window, terrorising any passing trade.
So, there I was, sitting typing as stated earlier, a glass of whiskey sitting at my elbow for inspiration when required. I am busy re-writing Pretty Boy Three. (PB One won Gold at the Koestlers, PB Two won Platinum) and it is coming along very well. As usual I have taken a true situation and twisted it to suit myself and make a decent story out of it. Anyway, I reached a sort of natural pause and sat back to look at what I had done, the sitting back included easing my feet. WHAM! I must have scared Tara temporarily because she bit my foot. It's true, let sleeping dogs lie, they bite your feet otherwise. She didn't break the skin so she wasn't trying too hard, nearly ripped my thumb off a couple of weeks back but that's another story.
"Hey!" said I, less than delighted, but her ears were down so she knew she had done wrong. I gave her a good scratching and she settled down again. I'll have to be a bit more careful when I am doing my John Steinbeck impressions, that's all.

Yet another movie

In the last three days I have been asked variations on the same question by five different people. It's getting like an old movie being eternally repeated on the telly.
 
The question I have been asked is this, "Freddie," (or "Frankie," - it depends on which part of my past the questioner comes from) "why have you stopped doing your blog thing? I liked reading it, it sometimes made me laugh."
 
Fair enough, good question.
 
The answer is quite simple - I don't have the ability to put it onto the internet on my own. I can't even work that Facebook thing! It's too complicated for a fountain pen person like me - I'm an old codger now you know! And I can't expect Andrew or anyone else to do it for me. Anyway, I am trying to do everything by myself these days and I am not doing too badly at it. I just can't get to proper grips with this computer thing, not really - but I am trying. Oh I can do my desktop publisher stuff and emails, (or in my case, Gmails) but that's more or less where my abilities come up against a road block.
 
Besides, I don't seem to have anything interesting to say these days - heard it all before. In fact things are getting just like that old movie mentioned earlier, seen it that many times we not only know the story line backwards, we are even beginning to learn the words too.
 
However, let me impart a bit of utterly uninteresting news - Kindle Direct Publishing are going to take me off their list on December 31st because I am required to fill in a tax form for the American IRS and I don't know how to do it.
 
Bugger it! I will just make myself another cup of tea, sit back and watch yet another movie on the telly.

Sunday, October 27, 2013

Yesterday?

Well, would you believe it? Once again Young Lochinvar has come out of the west to give valuable assistance. I better explain that.
As regular readers of my periodical drivel will be well aware, I haven't written much on this site of recent times. There is a reason for that, mainly because I didn't know how to do it. Well, I'm not as computer literate as some people may think I am. What I used to do in the past was write whatever I had to say and send it off to Andrew and HE put it into the ether, if that's the way to put it. However, recently I have been trying my best to do things myself and not rely or depend on other people. Some things had to fall by the wayside and this blogger thing was one of them.
Then, as usual with me, Fate took a hand.
In the last three days five different people have asked me why I am no longer writing my weekly trash column, they said they liked reading it because sometimes it was almost amusing. I felt the urge to inform Andrew of this in my usual long-winded way and he sent me an Email with 8 easy steps, an idiots guide to blogging, so to speak. I've been trying all day and finally I think I have got it right!
Hooray! Three cheers for personal incompetent perserverance!
In fact, if you are reading this then clearly I have managed to beat my personal dragon, I have cracked it, as they say.
So, here we go. If this works then expect to read a lot more drivel from yours truly.
I wonder if I can persuade Andrew to post the thing I sent him this morning, or was it yesterday?