Adventures in Writing
Weather is weird here is Texas. Today, Feb. 1st its freezing rain with a chance of 1-4 inches of snow by tonight. What is interesting is just 3 days ago we had a high of 80 degrees. Go figure.
I haven’t seen the Swahili kids next door in some time….not sure what’s up there.
What else to report – not much.
I got the Amazon Kindle for Christmas. I’ve wanted one of these things too. Not because I’m such an avid reader either. Over the years I’ve traveled a lot with my job which meant long periods of boredom. Sitting hours in airports, airplanes, taxies, client sites, and in hotel rooms with absolutely nothing to do – is not uncommon for the average consultant. I exhausted the internet. Reading get’s so …. Mundane.
I started to write and draw.
Then just write. I wrote a short story or two then moved on into works that had 50-60 pages of material. However, I’d lose some here and there during job transfers or drive failures. I didn’t really care it was just a way for me to pass the time.
I had no intention of selling or showing anyone what I wrote. Wasn’t looking for a book deal or publisher any of that. I’m a realistic, I can put my ideas and thoughts to paper but not in the format or sentence structure that most publishers would be happy with.
That was until I wrote a book that I really thought people might be interested in. Your perspective changes as a writer when ‘you think’ that folks might like your shit. Up until this point I always made an assumption my stuff sucked. But what if…just what if… it didn’t?
I decided that maybe I needed to ‘educate’ myself on ‘writing’. I bought some books and read a lot of online articles on creative writing, short stories, how to write novels, etc.
What I found humorous was that here I had a lot of material I’ve vomited up – most people considered that the hard part. Yet, what I considered hard was the writing format that others found easy.
After looking around I knew it would be almost a futile effort for me to get a publisher. It was not that I couldn’t but having a family and full time job – I made the assumption that a self publishing route would be the path of least resistance. I wasn’t out to make a fortune – just to get my material out to the public.
I looked at a few options and it seemed that Amazon’s Self Publishing was the way to go. That meant what I would publish would eventually end up in Kindle format.
So I wanted Kindle so I could proof my material.
I’ll log more on my kindle and writing adventures as it continues.
Read MoreA Swahili Christmas
Months have gone by since the “Bicycle Tire Explosion of 2010” and Christmas is rapidly approaching. The wife and I debated on getting the neighbor Swahili kids something for Christmas. Now, for me it was a shot at gaining back a little karma and saving face. The wife felt bad for them because she would only see them playing with a ball. She assumed that maybe in their culture they might not celebrate Christmas or maybe wouldn’t get anything.
So we made our decision and went to Toys-R-Us and bought some books, nerf guns, foot balls, beach balls, some soccer balls. There is also this toy that is a large heavy balloon that comes with a big rubber band. You blow up the balloon, tie the rubber band around it, and then smack the balloon like a paddle ball. It’s called a Punch-Ball-Balloon.
They are pretty annoying and the size of a beach ball.
Anyway, the wife wraps up the gifts and we decided that we would deliver them Christmas morning.
Christmas morning comes and they are not home. A few days got by before I see activity over at their house. Seems they did get a few things -a couple of new bicycles and some little scooters. I seen one of the little boy’s was out side so I carried over the gifts and gave them to him.
He said “thank you”.
I told him ‘Merry Christmas’.
The next day I see a few of the kids in the back yard playing with Punch-Ball-Balloon. They were punching them into their little sister’s head.
All I would hear is the loud smack of them hitting the balloon then it bouncing off a head followed by “MERRRY CHRISTMAS!”
“Whack!” – “THUD” – “MERRY CHRISTMAS!”
“Whack!” – “THUD” – “MERRY CHRISTMAS!”
At this point, I knew four out of five Swahili kids loved Christmas and the Punch-Ball-Balloon.
Read MoreGood Deeds
Back in June of 2010 we had some new neighbors move into the house behind mine. Our driveways are shared by a back alley. I’m not Andy Griffith or Mr. Rogers – meaning I didn’t go introduce myself or welcome the family to town.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a mean old bastard, cranky, or a dick. I just don’t socialize very much. I go home to be in my fortress of solitude. Anyway, I was out back taking out trash and met our neighbors who were outside in their driveway. I’m not an expert type of cultures outside of Texas but if I had to guess I’d say my new neighbors were Swahili.
There is a husband, wife, and 3 young boys (maybe 6-12 years of age), and two girls between (10-15 years of age). Now that I seen them outside it was only polite for introductions. The conversation went like this:
Me – “Hi.”
Swahili Dad –“Hi” – and he said it with a huge smile on his face.
Me – “Your our new neighbors. My name is Leo. What’s yours?”
Swahili Dad – “Hi” – and he said it with a huge smile on his face – again.
At that point I kind of knew they didn’t know much English. The Swahili Wife came over and said hi. And talked to me a little bit. However, I didn’t understand a bit of her English. I nodded my head, laughed, and went in side.
For the next month or two their kids would play in the alley way. They didn’t have any toys but did a ball, puddle of water, and hula hoop. I kind of felt sorry for them because that’s all they played with. Then my mind wondered into the realm that maybe they were poor and couldn’t afford anything. When you don’t have a line of communication you start to think all kinds of weird stuff.
Then at the end of summer I looked out back to see them riding a little red bicycle. Let me tell you, seeing 5 kids share a bike is an amazing feat. They would ride it bare footed and at times three of them would be on it at once. Those kids loved that bike.
Then the red bicycle got a flat tire. However, the kids didn’t care. They would still ride it up and down the alley with a flat. Several weeks went by and it still wasn’t fixed. I made the assumption that they dad didn’t know how to fix it.
A few days later while I was in my garage breaking something (some call it wood working) the Swahili kids were out riding that bike. I turned on my air compressor and dragged my air hose to the alley. They rode by and I motioned them to come over and they did. Seemed that even though we didn’t speak in each other language we could still communicate.
They brought the bike over to me. I reached down and removed the air cap and started to put air in the tire. All five of the kid surrounded me and watched in awe at what I was doing. I swear it looked like a photo that would grace the cover of National Geographic.
Then in the tire blew up in about ten different pieces. Rubber went every where and scared the shit out of the kids and me.
The first thing that went through my mind was ‘Shit!’.
Here I try to do a good deed and just make matters worse. I was speechless. I looked at the kids and said I was sorry. Thank god none of them were crying that would have made me feel worse than I already did. I quickly grabbed my hose and walked back into the garage and shut it.
The next day, the kids pass me on the sidewalk, riding that same bike.
Read MoreLife on the Big Rig
Seems it’s been awhile since I’ve posted. I have no excuse. Guess I’m just lazy. With Christmas near I was thinking back about my family, mostly about my dad. He was a very unique person. During my childhood we pretty much lived in poverty. Mom and dad both worked minimum wage jobs and struggled to make ends meet. One of our family friend’s was a truck driver and they had no problem with money. So, dad went to truck driving school in Arkansas. I know, it sounds like a nightly routine from Jeff Foxworthy but sadly it isn’t.
Dad started his long career in truck driving. One summer mom and dad decided to let my sister ride with him on the semi for a couple of weeks. When he came back through town he dropped her off and picked me up. I was around 12 or 13 and looking forward to my adventures on the road in a big rig.
Yeah – big adventures.
So our first trip was from Oklahoma to Austin, Texas. That very first day I figured out that riding in a big rig – isn’t so much fun. You sit for long hours looking out the window at a lot of nothing. You just can’t pull in to any restaurant to eat or park at any landmark to take pictures – big rigs are just that – big rigs.
We get into Austin during the 5pm rush hour traffic – which means we were completely at a stand still on the road. A few hours went by and I needed to pee and dad needed to go too. Well, in his terms “he needed to piss like a Russian race horse!”. I never fully understood that saying.
Dad tells me he keeps a jug behind the sleeper. For those who don’t know the ‘sleeper’ on a big rig is the square box right behind the driver and passenger seat. It’s where the driver sleeps. I unbuckle, retrieve the jug, and return to my seat. It was your typical Preston Anti-Freeze jug.
I asked dad what he was going to do with it. He said it would still be an hour or two until we make it to a place where he could park. That if we needed to pee we’d have to pee in the jug. I’m boy, this wasn’t really an issue for me. However, the jug wasn’t empty it was nearly full. I passed that information along to dad and he told me to just roll the window down and pour it out and try not get it on any one’s car or on the truck.
I roll the window down, pop the lid off, and proceed to pour out what I thought was anti-freeze on the road. What came out of that jug was far from coolant.
Ever wonder what a gallon of piss looks and smells like after being stored in a jug for 3 months?
Seems dad neglected to tell me that this was ‘his when I’m stuck in traffic and need to piss jug’. I was under the impression that we were improvising on the spot.
This putrid glob of a congealed liquid started oozing out of the jug. The smell was pretty much the worst smell I’ve ever encountered. Here I was, hanging half out of a truck window, pouring out a gallon of someone else’s piss, while gagging.
I look over and my dad is laughing hysterically and I really didn’t need to pee anymore.
Those fond childhood memories.
Read MoreBack in business!
Yes that’s right!
For those of you who don’t know (or don’t care) I do a lot of video capture and editing from my 360. The media center shuttle I bought a few years back cratered on me a while ago. So, I took an old spare shuttle, fixed it up, and tried using it.
However, it’s has a pretty slow processor so everything I capture was laggy. I was going to buy a new one but I was also needing a new laptop. I did some research and it looked like a i3 laptop (low end model) might just be powerful enough to double as my capture device also.
I picked up new Gateway i3 at best buy for a $499. And to my amazement this machine captures, converts, processes like a charm. It is almost fast enough for me to play on my Xbox and just watch the monitor. There’s about ¼ second lag.
So, all weekend I have been recording a lot of MW2 footage.
I know, old news.
However, I have some great tips on my YouTube channel www.youtube.com/cerebraltrauma if you love playing the game!
Oh wait, I haven’t uploaded them all yet. However, I will shortly. And get this…. I even TALK on these videos!
Read More
