Sad news from the world of fiction July 7th

I know I haven't posted much lately, but between big events at work and a cracked tooth that picked the holiday weekend to flare up (God forbid I have a dental emergency when offices are open) I've fallen behind.

Even so, work continues - er, has resumed - on my novel, and maybe I'll post a taste of it here on or on my other AOL blog, The Season.

Meanwhile the search for gainful employment outside my current field continues . .

But sad news today demanded at least a short post. I know this seems insignificant in light of the terrorist attacks on London, but writer Evan Hunter - better known to millions as Ed McBain -  died today at the age of 78.

The news rocked me as McBain is one of my favorite writers and the author (under his true name) of one of my top 10 books of all time, The Moment She was Gone.

No doubt I'll post a proper appreciation for the man in the days to come, but I wanted to spread the word.

NEW YORK (Reuters) - Novelist Evan Hunter, better known to many readers as the Ed McBain who wrote the 87th Precinct novels, has died of cancer at the age of 78, his agent said on Thursday. Hunter wrote more than 100 novels, short stories, plays and film scripts during a period of 50 years and under different names, selling more than 100 million books worldwide.As McBain, Hunter is credited with pioneering the police procedural genre with the 87th Precinct series that includes more than 50 titles.Hunter helped Alfred Hitchcock adapt the screenplay for the 1963 film ``The Birds''.. . He won the Mystery Writers of America's Grand Master Award for lifetime achievement in 1986.
Evan Hunter was 78.  

 

 I'll miss his work.  

Billboard Pics July 2nd

A few months ago I posted a picture of one of the many ads that were painted on the side of brick buidlings in the Cream City.

I said I wanted to photograph as many as I could before they disappeared, but as always seems to be the case with me I dillie dallied too long.

There was a great, colorful advertisement that took up the side of an old building near Miller Park. I saw it, told myself I'd return to take the pic, and forgot about it.

A week later it was gone, covered by a layer of insulation and fresh siding.

So here's a brief stab at making amends - a survey of some ads I photographed while driving my wife's friend home. All lie within a half-mile of one another on or around a single south side street.

This first shot is that of an old dry-cleaner sign on a building that appears in the process of being converted to a residence.

The more things change . .  While the original business is gone, the building is now occupied by another bakery.

This business is still going, though the beer they advertise is long gone.

A relatively recent ad, also with the business still going.

The ad still applies to the entertainment provided in the building, though the terminology certainly has changed. I don't think it's the original business either; odd how so many buildings seem to draw the same type of company decade after decade.

 

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How Ronald Reagan and Joe Mcintyre were both victims of bad voting July 2nd

The Discovery Channel recently unveiled their audience's pick as The Greatest American of all time - Ronald Reagan.

Now I know it's just an overhyped publicity stunt by a cable channel, with all the moral authority of the blasphemous Dancing with the Stars voting that cast aside Joe Mcintyre.

(may that British judge rot in Hades!)

But still, Ronald Reagan? I'm sorry, there's no way The Gipper should have won the honor.

And remember, that's coming from a devoted Republican. I can't remember the last time I crossed party lines.

[That's an exaggeration - for example, in local elections I have no choice but to vote Democratic, and I may have once voted in a Socialist for class President. But in my defense, she was darn cute and loved animals]

[personal confession: I grew up in a solidly Democratic family during the Reagan era. Thus, there's a smidgeon of my being that still registers Reagan as 'the enemy', but I try not to listen: it's the part of my mind that said the same of dentists, and look where that got me.]

If you have to pick a politician for the title, why not one of the Founding Fathers? Not only did they accomplish the impossible by building a working democracy, a few still retain brand-name status, like Washington and Jefferson.

If the issue of slavery clouds their resume for you, how about Discovery Channel runner-up Abe Lincoln?

Not only did he preside over the end of slavery, the master orator held the nation together through a devastating, unpopular, and initially unsuccessful war.

If it was up to me, I'd skip the residents of D.C. altogether. I wouldn't have shed a tear if Thomas Edison had got the nod, or the Wright Brothers. They changed the economic, social, and industrial course of this nation - of the world, for that matter.

Or, if you really want to be obscure, how about that nameless Confederate that dropped Lee's battle plans at the battle of Antietam? His butter-fingers allowed the Union to blunt Lee's advance, saving the day and eventually, America itself.

'Course, I suppose the title implies a certain love of country, so scratch that idea.

I guess I shouldn't complain. All in all the top twenty-five vote getters reflect a pretty accurate view of American life.

Most of the folks I mentioned made the cut. So did at least two immigrants, Einstein and Bob Hope, and business innovators like Bill Gates and Walt Disney.

Some clearly deserve to be that close to the top - Martin Luther King, for example. I can also see why entertainers like Elvis and Oprah deserve to be mentioned; I might not agree, but I can see why they're there.

Others, not so much.

Lance Armstrong? Uh, no.

Hey, I'm a big fan of Dubya but I think it's a teensy bit early to put him in the top 10. As for Clinton, tell the truth: even if you're a fawning devotee of the man, you have to admit that his Presidency - through no fault of his own - was devoid of any truly historical events.

After all, FDR without the Depression is just a no-name President with a nifty monogram.

In the end what may have pushed Reagan over the top were the nostalgic memorials that flooded American airwaves after his death.

A great man and a good president? Yes. The Greatest American ever? No.

Call me hokey, but I like to think that the person who deserves that title hasn't even been born yet.

That way America's best is yet to come. 

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Someday he too will be as hairy as a mammoth . . .

I'm proud of myself - I managed to use the word 'mammoth' twice in the space of two posts.

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The Trip to Polish Fest June 26th

For those of you wishing to skip a blatant attempt to avoid the rigors of scrapbooking, scroll down to find the usual, meatier fare.

In my continuing quest to educate America about Milwaukee's tourist attractions, may I present the family's 2005 trip to Polish Fest, America's largest Polish festival.

We went at the request of my father-in-law, who along with his wife volunteered at the event.

Along with the upcoming (and mammoth) SummerFest, Milwaukee is home to different ethnic festivals almost every weekend in the summer - Irish Fest, Festa Italiana, German Fest, Asian Moon, Mexican Fiesta, and more.

Held on the Henry Maier Festival Grounds on the shore of Lake Michigan, with the skyline and the lake as a backdrop, Polish Fest is in its 24th year of showcasing the cultural, religious, and political heritage of Poland.

(yeah, yeah, skip your jokes - among others, Poland has produced Chopin, Copernicus, John Paul II, and most importantly, moi)

That's not to say the festival doesn't recognize a certain flair for goofiness, as if it's embracing the stereotypes as a means of rejecting them.

That, or the festival organizers really are as corny as I am.

There's the Polka Police, uniformed accordion-carrying men that will stop and ask you to Polka. There's tongue-in-cheek T-shirts galore:

"Let's Gdansk"

"Czarnina is bloody good"

"Beer Polka Beer"

"You bet your dupa I'm Polish"

and the one my eldest wore, garnering her some great reactions from the crowd:

"Part Polish is Better than None"

Sure, there's plenty of beer and a Polka stage (which, honestly, doesn't make it al that unusual in Milwaukee) but there's also a rock stage, a classical music competition, ethnic dances, craft displays, a Polish mass, and scores of shops.

There's also, it goes without saying, all manner of Polish food available. Unfortunately, as thefestival fell a day before payday we didn't have the funds and chose to eat when we got home.

Well, chose is a bit of a euphemistic way to put it, but still . . .

[embarrassing secret that betrays my ancestors: like German food, I find Polish food too heavy for my taste. But I do have a solid appreciation for vodka - straight, no chaser - just the way my first landlord, a Polish immigrant, taught me to enjoy it.]

Our one splurge at the fest was a ride on the ski lift that operates between both ends of the grounds. I took both girls along, and while they had a blast (bopping their heads to the music beneath us and saying with awe "we're higher than Spiderman") I was kind of nervous when Middle Child decided she was too big to have me hold her on the ride.

Yikes.

The girls played in a splash pool on the grounds and tore the heck out of a huge playground located at the festival. We also browsed the lakefront and a collection of sculptures depicting Polish folk tales.

Not exactly a night at the Roxbury, but a fine time for all - even if it was scorching in the sun.

Come check it out if you're in town next year.

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Three Pics of the Kids, for no good reason

YaYa, in complete canine ('Cocoa') costume on a 90+ degree day . . .

The Middle Child in her typical pose . .  .

and Parker, taken at the lakefront today . . .

 

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Quote of the Day June 24th

I volunteered at Miller Park this week on behalf of my daughters school. 

The Brewers have a program where non-profit groups staff and run vending stands during home games, taking home 10% of the take for their organization. It might sound like a piddling amount, but last year some groups made as much as $7000 for their cause.

A great idea, good cause, blah blah, but when it's 85 degrees in the shade the last thing you want to do is hunch over a grill for hours at a time.  

But I'm trying to make a good impression on the parents and teachers that will play a part in my daughter's future, so I volunteer to be the grill guy. It went fine, but it separated me from the rest of the workers. Six hours into the shift I still hadn't learned anyone's name.  

So I stop to chat with a middle aged woman working nearby. The conversation immediately turned to the heat.

 "Oh, it is so hot back here! Part of me wishes I could change my shirt right here," she said.  

Cue Danny.  

"Much as I might like to see that, it might not be appropriate behavior for a Catholic school group," I said, tongue in cheek.  

She looked at me oddly.  

"You're right," she said. "Especially since I'm a nun."

A nun. The one person I talk to - the one person I make an off-color joke to - is a NUN.  

My Dad, who was also volunteering, sadly shook his head. I think he's learned to expect such things from my karma.  

Here's hoping the next nine years go quick, huh?  

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On Thank You's and how Tommy Thompson helps a guy with the ladies June 24th

True story:

On our first date many moons ago, my future wife and I went out to eat. Being the shy guy I was at the time, I didn't talk much during the meal.

By 'much' I mean 'almost not at all'. I think I said four words.

[Five if you count 'hello']

As you can imagine, this ticked her off. "This is a waste of my time. I'm going to finish my meal,then I'm going to take you home, and I don't ever want to see you again," she said.

A palm reader she was not.

What she was at the time was a liberal Democrat who (gasp, gag) had worked on the Clinton campaign. After her little declaration of intent, she decided to turn the meal into her political soapbox. It soon became apparent that the only thing we had in common was the hope that the date would hurry up and end.

And then she did it. She stepped over the line and slurred then-Governor Tommy Thompson.

No way I was going to let her defame the greatest Governor in Wisconsin history. Not on my watch.

No one puts Tommy in the corner.

So I came out swinging. After an hour of spirited and sometimes bloody debate, she asked me if I wanted to go back to her house.

[personal note: I played that line off to imply some hanky-panky, but the truth of it is she needed to stop by her parent's house to pick up her Book of the Month order. I like my version better]

And the rest, as they say, is history.

I bring this up for two reasons. One, to prove that chicks can't resist a man that follows Tommy. And two, to show that, traditionally, I'm really bad at small talk.

Small talk being defined as, say, responding to comments on my journal.

I've enjoyed all the attention I've received since being named AOL's guest editor last week, even if I inadvertently started a little controversy.

[personal revelation: ironically, that was the same day I learned I failed to make the cut in the Journal-Sentinel's open audition for a columnist. All the congrats from J-Land helped soften the blow of that rejection. It would have softened it more if AOL had offered me some money along with the title, but what can you do?]

I've read all the great comments - heck, I've done everything but frame the suckers and put them on the wall - butI get the worst case of writers block when it comes time to respond to them.

Rest assured, I'll visit every journalist/blogger that commented and return the favor on their site. If you didn't leave a url behind and I can't track one down, I'll send a short little email your way.

It might take awhile, but it'll get done.

Oh, and if (out of courtesy) I can get his permission, I'll post a great letter I got from the author of one of the sites I featured. As it is there's been some nice thank-you's - some on the blogs themselves, and one in the Non-AOL comments.

As for Slapinions, you might see a slight drop-off in production over the summer. I've really got to concentrate on landing a paying gig, and besides that I've let my novel slide for too long.

Ah, who are we kidding? I seem incapable of not posting here.

[web author secret: if worse comes to worse, I can always post pics of the kids]

Anyhow, thanks again.

 

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Why all children are liars June 19th

Okay, okay, I apologize for the Oprah post. I've heard from two readers about how weak it is and what a shame it's the first thing all the folks from the 'editor' thing see, blah blah. Well, here's the deal: I wrote it six or seven months ago and yeah, I thought it wasn't all that great. So I put it aside for a rainy day - and lost it. After two or three extensive searches I gave up, only to find it last week. After all the trouble it caused me, darn tootin' it was going online.  Was it really that bad?

- Dan

Art Linkletter was right. Kids do say the darnest things.

But let’s call it like it is; they don’t do it out of some angelic innocence. Sure, most of what they say is cute and aww-inspiring.

Of course, nature has a word for that. It’s called camouflage.

When I think about it, 85% my kids noteworthy quotes either

a) excuse an error

b) try to distract me from discovering an error

c) try to pin the blame for an error on someone else or

d) make an empty promise to get what they want.

It’s like we’re raising tiny little Enron execs.

A case in point:

Yesterday I was lying in bed when I heard a crash from the girls bedroom, followed by the cries of my youngest daughter.

Five years ago I would have been disgusted by any parent that failed to react to such an event. Now, three kids and a few trips to the ER later I think of it this way:

If they're healthy enough to cry, they're probably healthy enough to narc on one another and save me a trip across the house.

Sure enough, a few seconds later the oldest popped into my room.

"Um, Daddy . . . Livia took my Wizard of Oz," she said.

At age three, she's already developed a rhythm to her storytelling. Here, as expected, she paused while shifting from one foot to another, all the while looking as innocent as Ted Bundy.

"So I pushed her," she said.

Pause, eye shift, speech.

"And kicked her. And hit her," she said, all in a rush.

Quickly now, while stepping backward and preparing to bolt if I didn't buy her view of things:

"By accident," she said.

Later that day, after that dispute and twenty like it had had been settled, I was BBQ'ing outside while the kids played on the swingset.

For some unknown reason I decided to hoist the girls overheadin the palm of each hand, like a waiter carrying two trays of food.

Why this seemed like a good idea, I don't know.

(tho' if my wife was not a faithful reader, I might mention that a guy could conceivably think the display would impress the ladies in the next yard)

The kids enjoyed it. Both girls were giggling like it was a festival ride and I was feeling suitably masculine. It would have gone fine too - they are, after all, only 35 and 25 pounds respectively - if the oldest hadn't kept wiggling.

"Stay still!," I said.

"I am," she lied.

"No you're not. Promise me you'll stop squirming or I'll put you down right now," I said.

"I promise," she said.

Judging by her laughter, she’d have promised to circumnavigate the globe if it kept her aloft.

Ten seconds of squirming later, she started to fall. I caught her, put them both down, and glanced into the next yard.

The ladies were still pretending to be oblivious to my existence, but I could tell: They were disappointed in me.

I turned to my oldest with annoyance.

"You promised to stop squirming," I said.

"But I did stop squirming!," she said.

Pause, eye shift, speech.

"What's does 'squirming' mean Daddy?" she said.

Now I have no doubt my kids will grow up to be as honest as the next guy - more so I’d bet, because after many hours of practice they’re still so darn bad at lying - but for now I have to sift their words with care.

Hey, at least I don’t have to lock up the silver.

Yet.

 

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The First Ever AOL Journals Guest Editor! June 17th

When AOL asked me to be their first-ever AOL Journals Guest Editor I was flattered.  

Flattered, and a little upset.

After all, the gig included posting a pic of me on the AOL Journals homepage.

With so many gorgeous pictures of me out there, how could I be expected to narrow it down to just one?  

Joe, the (paid) Journals editor, asked that I do two things: come up with a list of eight sites I'd recommend, on or off AOL, and do it with a theme in mind. Or not.  

I tried to go with a daddy-blog theme in honor of Father's Day, but aside from my site, there seem to be very few blogs written from a father's perspective. I know - I even asked other bloggers for recommendations, and they came up blank.  

(if you know of any, tell me about 'em. We'll form a club. A small one.)  

So instead I went anti-theme, picking out a wide variety of blogs on different subjects. I skipped my AOL faves - AlphaWoman, One Girl's Head Noise, Random, (sometimes) photoblog, etc - as I think they've all been featured as Editor's Picks before.  

First, there's Tom's Astronomy Blog, a fine site that routinely puts out great picsand articles on what's going on in - er, outside our world. Don't worry, you won't need a science degree to enjoy the blog as he keeps it simple and entertaining. And purty.  

For another view of space - this time from the point of view of an ET with an abnormal interest in Bigfoot, check out Not Paranoid.  

PostSecret is something a little different. People are encouraged to anonymously submit postcards bearing their most private, funniest - and sometimes darkest - secrets.

ColdHearted Truth is a political blog that leans right but encourages some spirited debates in its comments and community blog section. He has his flaws (he's a Minnesota Vikings fan, which to a Wisconsinite like me is just plain disgusting) but his solid blog more than makes up for it. He even has a section of his site devoted to, of all things, American Idol.

 No One's Child is a book written chapter by chapter on a blog. Based on the author's own abusive childhood, this site quickly became a favorite of my wife.

The author of The Mad Perseid was born in the Soviet Union, settled in Canada, and moves his opinions to the web on a regular basis.  

I'd say the web site created by the author of my favorite comic, Arlo and Janis, qualifies as a blog. Each day's commentary links to the current strip and some of his archived work. Neat little fact: my favorite author, Robert B. Parker, not only mentions the strip in his books, but has been featured in it in return.  

(btw, if you like Parker, check out Bullets and Beer, a great site devoted to the Spenser novels.)  

Lastly, I did find one blog that is written from a father's point of view: The Squatch.  

Go take a look, and don't forget to tell 'em Slapinions sent you.

[BTW - Shameless self promotion: please check out my own online home here at Slapinions, a mix of Erma Bombeckish family posts, comedy,photos, politics, and more.  

You'll find a nifty little intro to my site in the All About Me section. I think you'll enjoy your visit, and I hope to see you again soon.]  

Happy Father's Day  

 

Dan aka Slapinions  

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