Fall Is Here, and Boys Sometimes Wear Shorts

The "Island" has been wrested from tourists for the year, and now we "natives" have our town and beaches back. As you may know, I have been a native for over six months. The beaches are nearly empty each day, except for the weekends. Hurricane season is just about over, and the bird species are changing, as the northern birds are starting to arrive for the coming winter. We have not been crabbing lately. The water is still warm but not as warm as in July and August. The crabs seem to bite somewhat slower lately. And lots of boys are still running around in shorts.

That reminds me of another boy who wore shorts. He was ten years old so I suppose he should have known better than to wear shorts to the Whitehouse...yes THE Whitehouse. No doubt his adult relatives should have known better than to dress this boy in shorts on such a special day. Nonetheless, when this family, the surviving relatives of a recipient of the Congressional Medal of Honor, arrived at the Whitehouse, they were turned away because the boy was wearing shorts...oh, and a t-shirt. Not just any t-shirt, mind you, but a t-shirt bearing a picture of the very hero that was to be honored on this special day. The hero was this young boy's grandfather. Not only that, but the hero had been denied his well-deserved medal for over SIXTY years. So the family was finally at the Whitehouse to take the tour of West Wing in honor of the late grandfather national hero.

Remember, this man had been denied this honor while he was living, and his memory had been denied the honor for another couple of decades. And NOW...the honor was to be denied because the grandson was wearing shorts...and a t-shirt. Now I am not criticizing the President. In fact, I doubt that he was witness to these proceedings. No doubt a zealous hall monitor was performing his or her duties to the best of that person's abilities. And once again, this American Hero was denied his day of honor. Thank goodness for zealous hall monitors who protect the sanctity of the Whitehouse. But I wonder how much longer the family will have to wait for their next visit to the Whitehouse. More importantly, I wonder what lesson this child learned from the experience.

I am afraid that what he learned was this: After a genuine American hero has been denied his just reward and recognition for over sixty years, the "powers that be" will withhold the honor another day...if someone dares to wear shorts to the Whitehouse. Dress codes for children are much more important than honor for the veteran.

Bailey Black on the Road to the Press

It seems like no matter how many times I edited and re-edited my manuscript, there were always little changes to be made. Two other people also read the manuscript and changes were made on suggestions. I suppose I could read anew everyday and still find something to change. At that point the story may become "stiff" and lose some of the excitement and adventure that I personally felt as I was writing this, the only written record that Bailey Black ever existed. Oh yeah, there are the wanted posters, but they were torn down as soon as word of Bailey's demise spread across the desert. I wonder who will get his ranch in Colorado. Will they find Bailey's hidden wealth. What will happen to that money in the bank in Waco. Oh, it is easy to forget, this is just a story made up, and Bailey Black is just a figment of my imagination. True? Maybe.

I appreciate those of you who may be following me as I experience the joy of being a published, if not widely read, author. It was such fun writing the book. I felt like I was there with Bailey Black as the Sheriff followed him into the desert. I felt somehow transported to Tom Belger's side as he and Dub Giles tracked Bailey Black. I know the hair on my neck stood up when Giles told us, I mean Tom, that somehow Bailey Black had faked the trail and could even now be pointing a rifle our way! Then I was back again, in my writing chair. I hope readers will feel transported to Dora, and to the sand dunes beyond, as they turn the pages in my book. Even though the love affair was brief, I hope the reader can look into the deep pools of Hattie's eyes, down to her soul, as she falls hopelessly for Tom Belger. And surely the reader will share the mixed feelings of both satisfaction that Bailey Black paid his dues, and sadness at his demise while he saved Hattie and the girls from the ravages of the Dalton Brothers. Above all, I hope the reader feels the wonder and awe, the beauty and brilliance, as the Sheriff and Bailey Black walk away into that bright and perfect Light waiting for them in the Beyond.

Thanks again for staying with me.

Bailey Black in Progress

I recently submitted a book manuscript for publishing and was accepted! I was really excited at first, and I still am. But I am now realizing how much work there is between the manuscript acceptance and the actual publication of the finished book. Between the re-editing, correcting, re-reading, re-writing, and the book production, I urge you to follow me as I go through the process. I believe that the finished product will be a very readable and surprising Western. It is not of the usual vein, but includes the namesake's run-in with a dead sheriff, in fact, the sheriff he himself killed. The story follows Bailey Black as he robs a bank, makes his escape while pursued by a posse and a very tenacious deputy, through his meeting with the dead sheriff, and Bailey Black's ultimate meeting with Destiny.

I am so pleased to be a (soon to be) published author. While my book poses no threats to the greats such as Louis L'Amour or Zane Grey, nonetheless I had a great time writing the book while living the adventure in my head at the same time. I had read about authors who say that they "do not know" what will happen next. I have to say that, prior to writing my own book, I had no concept of what these authors meant. How could someone possibly NOT know what he was about to write. In actuality I found this to be the case for myself. I knew what I thought would happen, in line with my general plot outline, yet, there were times when I was really not sure how a character would react, how some event would turn out, until I had actually written it into the book. It was almost like real life.

My final manuscript will go to the publisher next week, and if all goes well, it will be through the final editor before Christmas. I am crossing my fingers for this. What a great gift! I am so proud to have something of myself to leave behind to family and friends. Another thing that is also exciting is the prospect that people I DO NOT KNOW will read about or hear about my book and buy it to read for themselves. I realize I will not become a Dean R. Koontz overnight, but I will certainly appreciate each person who buys, reads, and enjoys my book. That reward, that someone actually likes my book, is so much more important to me than any money I might make someday from book sales.

So I hope you will follow me on this adventure, even as I continue to blog about my usual things, which is anything that I feel needs blogging. Hopefully very soon I will be blogging about my first book signing...and hopefully many more to come!

Winds at Surfside

The edge of Hurricane Karl is slicing into Surfside Beach. The ocean here is angry and boiling with high surf. The surfers (either brave or stupid) are out in droves as they "catch a wave and they're sitting on top of the world." To me the waves look very dangerous, but to the trained eye, I suppose they are heavenly. Unfortunately, my evening walk along the beach has to be tabled for another day.

The windy, stormy weather and the ever changing sky may be omens of the coming turmoil in my life. I will be returning to West Texas for another job. This one will be provisional, until and unless my performance proves satisfactory. No other details released at this time. Meanwhile my spouse will remain in Surfside at her job. We don't know how long it will be until we are reunited in West Texas, but it will be at some point.

My wife is a native of the Permian Basin. She has wanted to return for some time; well, actually since she arrived here. I must say though, she has come to love the beach and waves. But in her heart she wants to return to Midland. I have seen my Precious Flower wilting for lack of the desert sun, and I know she needs to go back home. So the brief (I hope) separation will be worth it if she can return the land of horned toads and tumble weeds. And, honestly, I miss the desert myself. The dry, hard land and the beautiful blue skies of West Texas grow on a person, often making a "native" of the fleeting traveler.

This blog was created while I lived in West Texas, thus the name. But I am a citizen of this entire great nation-state that is Texas. As I return to West Texas I will blog on while I eagerly wait to be joined by my spouse, at some later time.

Two Years After Ike

This time in 2008 I was hiding in West Texas as Hurricane Ike smashed into the Third Coast. The very house where I sit and write these words was damaged severely. The bottom floor was destroyed and washed to the mainland. All the windows were broken out, and much of the siding was blown off. Many homes in Surfside Beach were literally blown out of existence, and two blocks of street were washed away. Of course, on a much more serious note, Galveston suffered very great damage, as well loss of life. And the towns of Point Bolivar and Crystal Beach were literally blown off the map.

It is hard to believe that two years have passed since then. Surfside has been rebuilt. Luckily, Miss Kitty's Purple Cow was rebuilt and is in full swing. The Castaway and the Hammerhead are both operational. And in the face of all this, I was able to convince my spouse that we NEEDED to move to Surfside Beach. Of course, it took nearly two years to do so. She was afraid at first to get her toes in the surf. Later on she was will to chance wading along the tide line, stepping over infants and toddlers as she went. But it took a visit from her nephew (age 3) to get her into the waves over her knees. After she saw how much fun the baby had, and that Jaws was not waiting to gobble her and Colton, she became much more of a water body. By the end of tourist season she was out chest high and even had enough nerve to walk out to the SECOND sandbar.

Well, Fall is upon us, the beaches are practically empty, and a For Sale sign stands conspicuously in the front yard of Some'R Surfin'. It may be that our days here are numbered. Tomorrow another potential buyer will be here to inspect the property. I have certainly enjoyed our days here, but I am happy that we have missed much of the misery "natives" have suffered through due to the ravages of various hurricanes. I guess we are "fair weather" islanders at this point. But this is certainly one of those things I can take off my "Bucket List." There is a move coming for us in the near future. Whether we simply move to the mainland or all the way back to the Permian Basin, the times spent here at the seashore will never be forgotten.

Do They Really Need the Ground Zero Mosque?

I disagree with so many of President Obama's actions up to this point that it would really make my blog monotonous and boring to constantly rant and rave about these things on a daily basis. But there is one rant and rave that I refuse to silence. I am sickened to the point of extreme nausea that our President has not (and will not, I am sure) use his influence as President and as a Muslim to persuade the Muslims to build their new mosque at some place other than Ground Zero. So let's leave the President out of this controversy.

I would like to consider the Muslims in New York in general. First, current figures indicate that there are about 800,000 Muslims in the Big Apple. Second, of over 1200 mosques in the United States, at least 100 are located in New York City, distributed throughout the various boroughs. According to the same source, this number does not include smaller "storefront" mosques as well as those conducted in individual Muslim homes. Some of the larger mosques accommodate over 3,000 people at each service. And new mosques are under construction with increasing frequency. So why do they really need the Ground Zero Mosque?

The answer of course is they really don't NEED to build a mosque at Ground Zero. For three reasons: First, Ground Zero is down-town where there is virtually no residential population, and only a small percentage of those who do reside downtown are Muslim. Second, IF there IS really a legitimate need for a mosque somewhere in the area of downtown, there are certainly city lots available at less expense than the lot only a block from Ground Zero. Finally, almost any lot anywhere else in Manhattan would serve the purpose AND would not arouse such great feelings of betrayal and hostility with the non-Muslim population of New York, and of the rest of nation as well.

Earlier I mentioned that I did not want to harp on my disagreements with the President on a daily basis in this blog. But I would like to point out one thing. President Obama just today pleaded Americans to "tolerant of religion." Oh, does this warrant "a whole 'nother" blog. But that can wait for another day. Back to the point, I am outraged that Mr. Obama expects "Americans" to be "tolerant." I take "Americans" to mean any citizen who is NOT Muslim. I also interpret President Obama's "tolerance" to mean that OTHER religions need to "tolerate" Muslims. I can't argue with religious tolerance. I think it is a good thing. BUT, I think it works both ways, Mr. Obama. Should not Muslims ALSO TOLERATE OTHER RELIGIONS?!

And, most important, IF MUSLIMS are so TOLERANT and understanding of other religions, as well as TOLERANT of the feelings of the majority of Americans, the group of Muslims undertaking construction of the Ground Zero Mosque would have ALREADY CANCELLED their plans for the Ground Zero Mosque. Out of their tolerance for other religions, and in sympathy of the heartache and the outrage of MILLIONS OF NON-MUSLIMS, these people would simply select a lot or an abandoned building several blocks (or miles) from Ground Zero. They would have their new mosque and they would greatly demonstrate their understanding and sensitivity toward the feelings and the grief of so many Americans who lost loved ones on that day that will "live in infamy."

I will be surprised if the Ground Zero Mosque is not built. I will be surprised if Barack Obama speaks out against this terrible undertaking. But I will NOT be surprised that, as Americans continue to voice their outrage and anger at the very idea of the Ground Zero Mosque, we do not continue to hear the tired crowing of our President, the "enlightened" members of the New York commission which is so eager for the mosque to be constructed, and, of course, Muslim mouth-pieces, in loud, discordant shouts for "tolerance." Yes, only Muslims are "tolerant." Other Americans are just bigoted, Muslim-hating, and, above all, INTOLERANT, malcontents who won't give the poor, mistreated Muslims an even break. After all, the Muslims just want to build a mosque...

Hermine, Fall, and Football

Some'r Surfin' is still in one piece as the edge of Hermine touched this end of the Third Coast. Even though Hermine was "just" a tropical storm, the waves and the weather were spectacular. Between our humble abode and San Luis Pass, it appears that three to five feet of sand have been added to the beaches. Additionally, many of the deck stairways at ground level were covered as well. The waves have calmed very much since yesterday, but are still occasionally breaking over the rocks and onto Beach Drive. I believe by tomorrow morning we will be able to safely walk on the beach again.

I love the summer, but the downside is, with tourist season, I must surrender "my" beach to those who are not "native" to the island. Now that Labor Day is passed, the beach is pretty much abandoned to the locals. I and my lovely spouse are able once more to take our walks in relative peace without stumbling over oiled bodies in the sand. And the competition for the "good" seashells is so much less fiercer than only two or three days ago. Possibly one downside to the lack of tourists is that the chance of shark bite must increase in proportion to the smaller numbers of persons in the water. That is just a little speculation on my part.

For me, the greatest consolation for the end of summer is that Football Season has fired up once again. I can't wait to watch all my favorite teams beat all the teams I love to hate. For fear of readership loss I will keep my list of villains to myself. Suffice to say that if I am not out walking on the beach, it is because I am glued to the tube watching NCAA Football.

Where's the popcorn? Give me the remote, Honey...No..Not the Food Network!!