The Writing of "Locusts and Wild Honey," Part IV -- Three Crosses

When we last left this story, three of my close advisers--a Medium and a Minister, plus my closest adviser, Mrs. Giles--all were telling me that I should not proceed with my original concept for the book which involved a personification of Satan and an exploration of Evil.  After much consideration and several dozen napkins scribbled upon, I changed the idea to a story about a man who, in his mind, inadvertently made a deal with the Devil.

Nevertheless, with all the caution given to me by these three trusted people, I decided that when I wrote, I would have crosses around to ward off any attacks by Evil.  Where to get crosses?  I stopped in the local Hallmark Shop for a Birthday Card and gravitated to an area of the store that had Angels and Crosses and other confirmation types of gifts.  I walked out with three crosses.  The small wooden cross went in the carrying case for my flash drives since that is the primary storage unit for my books.  A white stone with a something of a Cathedral Cross on it stayed on or near my laptop--my primary writing tool--as I would type on it.  Finally, I would pin the Celtic Cross Tie-Tack to my shirt pocket.

This was my practice for the first chapter--"The New Playroom," where the main character and the supposed agent of the Devil meet; also, in the fifth chapter which has two ghosts among the characters; again,in the fifth chapter, from whence the title of the book is derived; and finally, the last chapter, which takes place mainly in a cemetery where crows are flying in formations of three.  

In the various places that I wrote--mostly restaurants with an inexpensive breakfast in the morning and then on to the local library in the afternoon--no one asked about what I was doing or why I had the crosses; that was fine with me.

When I stopped writing for the day, all crosses went into my computer carrying case, except the white one, which went to my desktop while I transferred the day's work to my hard drive.  Even though the manuscript is finished, the three crosses as still in my computer case because that is where I keep the flash drive, where the original writing was done.

Shorty's Barbershop -- an Excerpt from "On Harrisonville Avenue"

I interrupt my telling of the story behind the writing of Locusts and Wild Honey to present an excerpt from On Harrisonville Avenue which is a memoir published in 2008.  I wrote it in the brash style of a thirteen year old boy, circa 1955.  It was based on my recollection of things -- surely dimmed by the passage of time and flawed by not having taken notes at the time.  This is one scene from the chapter titled "Shorty's Barbershop," an institution in New Boston at the time where news of the day, politics, sports and
good-natured kidding were all fare game for those waiting for a haircut.  Here is a description of Shorty at his best while shaving the Funeral Director's generous face:

Shorty was a neat man, with a white shirt on, a burgundy bow tie (hand tied) and brown slacks with brown, kind of beat-up comfortable shoes.  His cuffs were rolled up and he had garters around the sleeves at his biceps to hold the sleeves in place.  And, yes, he was short, about 5 foot 5, my height.

 

On the floor around his white porcelain chair was a rubber mat to cushion Shorty’s steps as he shuffled around his customer.   Although Shorty had the latest electric razors and shears, most of the time he had a comb and a pair of scissors in his hands.  Snip, Snip, Snip. Comb. Snip, Snip, Snip. Comb.

Shorty’s hair was thinning on top.  He had the kind of hair that was combed back, on the top and the sides.  It was shiny looking hair, held in place by liberal doses of creamy Brylcreem.  Everybody had shiny, wet looking hair using Wildroot or Brilliantine or Vitalis, most of it in the traditional styles.  The younger men and boys, though, were experimenting with different styles, mostly to look like the movie stars Marlon Brando or James Dean, and then there were the musicians like Gene Krupa the Drummer or the new guy from Memphis, Elvis Presley.   They had interesting hair also that young men imitated.

During the past year, I had converted from the Flat Top (I hated the Flat Top “Butch Wax") to longer hair combed up on top and swept back into duck-tails on the sides with a straight line in my hair in the middle of the back of my head.  I didn't like the shiny look, so I had to “train” my hair to lay that way.  “Training” required constant combing, so I always had a comb with me.

Mr. Burns the Funeral Director was in Shorty’s chair.  I had hoped that his was going to be a simple haircut, but no – Shorty laid the chair down so Mr. Burns was stretched out flat, parallel to the floor; Mr. Burns was going to get a shave, as well.

Out came the hot towel over Mr. Burns face while Shorty sharpened his barber’s straight razor on the leather strop attached to the chair.  When the razor was just right, Shorty went to the shelf above the wash basin and got his shaving mug that said “Clubman” on the side and his fine shaving brush.  There was clinking as the brush swirled around in the mug producing a foamy lather.  The hot towel was removed and the lather was applied.  Shorty had done this so many times that the moves were smooth and polished, with a little flourish here and there.

Scraa-aape, Scrape, Scrape.  The sharp razor held at the right angle removed even the heaviest beard, below the surface.  The lather that piled up on the razor was offloaded on Shorty’s bare arm at the wrist and above. Scraa-aape, Scrape, Scrape.  Then the neck.  It made me uncomfortable to watch Shorty shave the neck.  Mr. Burns had several folds in his neck just to make it more challenging, but Shorty had been down this road many times before as he smoothed the rolls out and got every whisker without nicking one mole or missing one crease.

The chair came upright and Mr. Burns’ face was toweled off and dried, then the back of his neck was lathered and shaved, toweled and dried.  Shorty shook some Clubman Talcum on his hands and rubbed it across Mr. Burns’ neck, washed and dried his hands and then went to a green bottle “Pinaud’s Lilac Vegetal”, sprinkling some of the liquid in his hands, Shorty patted Mr. Burns generous cheeks and neck with the aftershave.  Then combed his hair one more time and removed the protective apron.  Voila !  The smell of talcum powder and Lilac wafted faintly though the shop as Mr. Burns retrieved his suit jacket and his Fedora from the pegs. 

“Put it on my bill, please, Shorty.  See you, fellas,” said the quaffed and shaved Funeral Director, as he bid farewell.

“Thanks Mr. Burns.  Come back again.” The bell rang – Ding -- as he exited the shop.

“He has a big funeral today,” said Shorty.  “Mrs. Hamilton. Come on up Bill.  You’re next,” Shorty said as he brushed off the chair and snapped a new fresh apron open for Bill.  Crack.

*******************************
Pictures from the book On Harrisonville Avenue:  Ron's House, Ron with his rooster and friend Jerry and Shorty's Barbershop across the street.

Writing "Locusts and Wild Honey" Part III

I have never met Shannon Hall Walker face-to-face but we have had an active phone relationship for fourteen years. (We also share the same birthday, albeit in different years.)  I first spoke with her in 1999 when Joan and I were traveling to Vancouver, British Columbia for the annual Hymn Society Conference; Shannon, along with Janice, own the travel agency that handles Hymn Society travel.  Her laugh, knowledge and easy manner connected with me and I have called Shannon ever since when we travel.  We have shared poetry, photographs, jokes--and she is one of my secret readers, giving me her opinion as I work my way through authoring a new book. We have not met face-to-face--but we know each other.
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Antahkarana:  Healing Symbol

Shannon is a spiritual person and someone with paranormal sensitivities, who, within the past three-plus years has been working with spirit to further develop her abilities.  Still operating her travel agency, she also conducts private sessions as a Medium, interacting with souls who have passed on.   Recently, after seventeen months of study, Shannon became a Master Teacher of Reiki; a Japanese life force energy healing practice.

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After my discussion with Reverend Osborne, I called Shannon to see what she thought about my writing a book with Satan in human form as the main character.  She was alarmed at what I told her and concerned for my safety.

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Shannon was concerned that in my inexperience with the ways of Lucifer, my research-orientated concentration might be construed by the Fallen Angel as giving in to the ways of evil and acceding to entry -- even quite possibly permitting possession without my knowledge.  Perhaps, unbeknownst to me, evil might find a portal through my story to infect others.  A three page handwritten letter from her Spirit Guide attested to the seriousness of my quest.
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Finally, I told my wife, Joan, that in my new book, I wanted to explore evil and use a human personification of the Devil.  I did not share with her Shannon's reaction, nor Ralph's. Although Joan is very rational about matters, her reaction to the central idea of my book was very quick -- visceral. "If you write that story, do not write any of it here and do not bring it into the house -- not on your laptop, a flash drive or a card. I don't want it in here where our children and grandchildren come." Hmmmm.

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With all this valuable advice from people that I respected and admired all saying pretty much the same thing -- "don't do this," I started to re-think the whole project.

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(To be continued.)

Writing "Locusts and Wild Honey" Part II

I began trying to organize what I thought would be the chapters for Locusts and Wild Honey.  Note that I had "The Prey" and "Hellhound" as separate chapters because, at the time, I thought the black dog would be the antagonist and therefore could take two chapters.

In thinking about the black dog as adversary, I realized that I was truly wanting a personification of Satan so why not in human form rather than animal? At that point, I began to understand the totality of what I did not know about old Lucifer.  I would have to research the topic.

The Internet is a wonderful tool but if you conduct a search on "Satan," it generates 56,590,000 responses. Realizing that I needed direction, I approached two ministers about Satan or the Devil or the Fallen Angel. The late Reverend Ralph Osborne asked me "why do you want to write a story with the Devil as the central character?"

Simon Bening (1483-1561)

Stunned by his question, I stammered a response. "For the reader's entertainment."

"Wrong reason," Ralph said with a laugh.  "This is far too serious a subject to approach as entertainment."

"What would be a good reason?" I asked, hoping to salvage something out of my scribbles and late-at-night thoughts.

"Education, comes to mind, but even then, you would have to be careful that you didn't create such a curiosity about the matter that you would convert people to the other side.  Change direction, dear Friend. Find another way."

Ralph's response was not satisfactory to me but I had to respect it.  Maybe there was another take on the matter.  I called my friend, Shannon Hall Walker, a Medium and a Reiki Master Teacher.

(To be continued.)

Writing "Locusts and Wild Honey"

In February, 2011, I began sketching out what would become Locusts and Wild Honey, I started with the Hellhound, a legendary character that supposedly was the messenger of Satan; whover saw the creature with fiery eyes would die soon.  I had forgotten about the hellhound since college, but was reminded of it during a sermon by Reverend David Pickett when he quoted the iconic and mysterious Blues Guitarist, Robert Johnson (1911 - 1938) whose song "Hellhound On My Trail" set a standard for Blues guitarists.  That Sunday afternoon, I wrote the first paragraph of my hellhound story:

Before sunrise, as I entered the darkness of the woods, I heard my father's voice admonishing…“Never hunt alone.”

Robert Johnson

I was delighted when author and former QVC associate, Jim Breslin, called to invite me to submit a short story for an anthology titled Chester County Fiction.  Without thinking, I dashed off the first paragraph above to him and then began working on it for the collection that Jim was putting together. Collaborating on Chester County Fiction in conjunction with other writers was a joy that happily consumed my writing energy for the remainder of 2011.  My short story was titled, "The Prey."



In January 2012, having written the hellhound story I went back to my notes, simple phrases that I had jotted down on napkins from various restaurants -- a ghost story in an old house haunted by teenage boy; recent divorcee seduces high school classmate, adding to the string of bad decisions this man has made; arm-wrestling with a stranger in a bar when the newcomer reveals he just got out of jail for armed robbery. And then there was "The Prey," which I had retained the copyright and made vague references that I might use it again in another book.

I had enjoyed writing in the short story form -- less than 10,000 words that compresses novel basics of exposition, problem, climax, resolution and denouement in a shorter frame. I  wondered if one could weave a series of short stories into a plot.

At another church service, I heard a reading from Matthew 3, verses 4-6, where John the Baptist is dispatched to the Wilderness:

John’s clothes were made of camel’s hair, and he had a leather belt around his waist. His food was locusts and wild honey. 5 People went out to him from Jerusalem and all Judea and the whole region of the Jordan. 6 Confessing their sins, they were baptized by him in the Jordan River.

Eric Armusik (b. 1973)

Up to this point, my story ideas were all dark and threatening, but the phrase "his food was locusts and wild honey" gave me hope.  That is, even in a desolate wilderness, John was supplied food.

I recalled that Christ would find himself in a wilderness as well for forty days and nights and that it was on the thirty-ninth day, when Christ was at his weakest, Satan chose to tempt him.

Temptation, bad decisions, hellhound, Satan, Good and Evil.  A story of human frailty intersecting with unseen rival factions began to form in my mind.

(To be continued)

Locusts and Wild Honey

Despite the fact that readers thought  the newspaper article in my third book was genuine, rather than my concoction, once again I am using a fictional newspaper article in my new book, "Locusts and Wild Honey," except that this time, I have another chapter following the article, hoping that the story continuation will indicate that the newspaper article is my invention like every other word since Chapter 1 began.

It seems that folks are prepped to believe that anything that looks like a newspaper article must be true.  A former print journalist who read my last book, "Great Heats" which has a series of newspaper articles as the Epilogue, knew that they weren't written by a journalist and immediately chided me for it.  Most other readers who commented, though, thought that I had used the newspaper article as the inspiration for my book. 

At any rate, I am trying the newspaper device again.  My chapter begins:

NEWMAN

OBSERVER-REPORTER

Serving Newman and Environs since 1858

DEATH SURROUNDED

IN MYSTERY

Reported by

J. Adams, City Desk

July 22, 2012

An unusual set of circumstances has led to the death of ... 

[Forgive me -- I dare not go further]

The Friday Night Dance

Earlier this year, a friend at the Portsmouth Public Library in Ohio, alerted me to a call for submissions of short stories about southern Ohio from the Shawnee State University English Department.  I submitted two manuscripts and was delighted when I was notified in late October that one would be used.  The committee at Shawnee State University selected "The Friday Night Dance," which was originally published in my memoir titled "On Harrisonville Avenue."

I re-purposed "Friday Night" for submission, taking out references to earlier parts of "Harrisonville" and clarifying other points to make the story stand alone and make sense.  I was also careful to retain the sketch of a naive and inexperienced 13 year old boy's first venture into being on his own at night, escorting a girl to her home, and receiving his first french kiss. When finished, the manuscript was 4500 words and twenty pages.

In revising "Friday Night," I was reminded of what a wonderful time it was to grow up in a town where there was Steel Mill full-employment, neighborhoods with alleys, kids your age, and shared parental standards where any adult who witnessed a kid doing something offensive could call that offender out on the spot (and then call the kid's parents to report what had happened).

Yes, there were more bars than churches, yes there was a den of iniquity that every boy was told "don't go in there" (the Tiger's Den Pool Hall), yes, you had to have your clothes taken off the line when the blast furnace was tapped at 4:00 p.m., and...yes, there was a town drunk who annoyed everyone with his too loud, off-key singing just as you were trying to go to sleep at night -- but there were more than a fair share of positives as well: Little League baseball fields, a lake, a football stadium, tennis courts, caring teachers and civic minded citizens who elected officials with clear principles.

It was a different time.

The Ryan Budget Plan

Below is the Ryan Budget Plan stated without any hyperbole, emotive adjectives or spin:

The latest (March, 2012) full-scale version of the plan, vows to cut spending by $5 trillion over the next decade.

Persons currently 55 or older would not be effected by the Ryan Plan. The plan would, a decade from now, give seniors the option of taking a government payment to purchase health insurance. That payment could be used to buy a private insurance plan, or go toward the traditional Medicare plan. The plan calls for extra assistance to help low-income beneficiaries and those with "greater health risks." 

The plan would overhaul Medicaid by turning it into a block grant system for states. 

The plan would cut the corporate tax rate from 35 percent to 25 percent. It would implement two individual income tax brackets -- 10 percent and 25 percent – and lock in the Bush tax cuts

The plan would head off the scheduled automatic defense cuts, first by diverting the planned $55 million defense cut in 2013 by implementing those cuts elsewhere. 

The plan would head off the scheduled automatic cuts to Social Security in 2013.

This post was developed by reading the ABC News version of the Ryan Plan, the Fox News version, the Wall Street Journal version and the Washington Post version.

Your New Driveway

HOW TO CARE FOR YOUR NEW ASPHALT DRIVEWAY

• We ask that you keep car traffic off your driveway for at least 3 days. If temperatures are real hot we ask that you try not to park on your drive for up to 5 days. You may walk on your drive right away.
• Your driveway will need 6-12 months to harden and cure. It will remain soft and pliable until then. Even after it has cured it will not be as hard as concrete. Your driveway will soften and harden as temperatures rise and fall. Please be aware of this in hot temperatures. If you wish, you may water down your drive with a hose on hot days to temporarily harden the drive.
• Spot damage may occur on your drive if cars start out or stop too fast. This also may happen if you turn your steering wheel when the car is not moving. To prevent pits, holes or gouges in your drive avoid using lawn chairs or kickstands on your drive. They exert weight on concentrated areas and will mar your drive. When using car jacks, ramps or storing boats or campers, place a piece of plywood under them to help distribute the weight.
• Large heavy trucks will depress your new blacktop. Keep concrete and other heavy trucks off your new driveway.
• Avoid driving off the edges of your driveway. They will crack and crumble due to lack of side support. You may support the sides by building up the edges with topsoil. But please do not do this until after the driveway has cured. (6-12 months)

• You must keep dirt off the asphalt surface at all times. The dirt pulls the oils out of the blacktop.
• It is natural for the texture of your driveway surface to be varied. It is caused by the various sizes of sand, stone and other ingredients that make up asphalt. Also, areas that are done by hand will appear different than those done by machine.
• Gasoline, Oil, Anti-freeze, transmission and power steering fluid will soften and break up your driveway. These should be professionally repaired.
• Cracks may develop over the winter due to the contraction and expansion of the ground. These should be filled with crack filler.
• If you wish you may seal your driveway with a Coal tar sealer, but we recommend that you wait at least 1 year. Sealer will protect your driveway if you have any gas or oil spills and will give your drive that new black look.

Locusts and Wild Honey, Part II

Yesterday, I posted a portion of my short story, "Locusts and Wild Honey," in which two of the storylines were revealed.  Below, are the opening paragraphs of the story in which another thread is established.  It is also the last one to be resolved.

Reverend Ted Talbot’s personal problems were nowhere to be seen on this Sunday morning; his demeanor and his words gave no indication of the roil that must have been under his surface. The seat where his wife sat on the aisle of the second row of pews was empty. The minister scanned the Sanctuary and without pausing passed over her vacancy, making eye contact with parishioners nearby.


Rachel Talbot was a force in the church of 1500 members. Effortlessly flamboyant in style, dress and demeanor, Rachael exerted influence in the cultural as well as the spiritual life of her community. Reverend and Mrs. Talbot were models of success and decorum in the large suburban town of Newman. She and her husband had raised two children—Dede and Darrel, fraternal twins—had gotten them through college two years ago and now the children were starting careers in Texas and California.


The empty nest and the separation from their children seemed to have been taken in stride by Rachel and Ted as they transitioned to a new phase of their lives. Privately, however, the undertow of the children’s absence, or their new married life together, or the simple tedium of their routine must have exacerbated a fissure in their relationship, unknown or suppressed until recently, when Rachael, unannounced, left Ted.

I have begun to write after a long interval of other activities. The current effort is a collection of short stories tentatively titled, "Locusts and Wild Honey."  In a section just completed yesterday, a middle-aged minister of a 1500 member church is delivering the fourth part of a sermon series called "The Wilderness."

In the King James Version of the Bible, the word “wilderness” is mentioned 304 times. In some cases, the word “wilderness” is biblically connected with the number 40, which is mentioned 157 times.

You may recall that Jesus wandered in the wilderness for 40 days and 40 nights without food and drink.  In that event, nothing happened for 39 days, but on the 40^th day of being in the wilderness, Jesus was hungry, thirsty and weak in body and spirit.  It was at this vulnerable time in our Savior’s life that Satan appears to Jesus, tempting him.”

The Sanctuary filled with 350 souls fell silent as each knew of times in their lives where they had been susceptible to temptation.  One man in the choir moved his eyes and head upward, staring vacantly at the patterned ceiling of the two hundred year old Sanctuary, as he recalled a recent incident.

“I’m going to say something now which some will find overly simplistic and others will find fundamental.  My friends, I believe there is a war going on between good and evil all around us, in ways visible and invisible. Further, I believe that every day, we are part of that struggle and subject to it.”

Reverend Talbot paused again as a period of silence uncomfortably permeated the space.

16th Century Illumination depicting Satan daring Christ to turn a stone into bread.                                           Simon Bening of Ghent 

Everything is a Rhythm -–Timepieces

In a scene from my third book, “Great Heats,” the ancient Mound Builders of Ohio erect a tall pole, simulating a large sundial, to give them a more accurate idea of the schedule seasons keep and to help the villagers better manage the planting and harvesting of crops while preparing for the harshness of the inevitable winter.

In researching ancient timekeeping – meaning shorter than a day – I found that the ancients of every civilization had attempted to get greater and greater accuracy, including when the sun wasn’t shining, by using clocks that burned incense, or water clocks, or hour glass designs using sand.

Improving on the search for accuracy, led to gearing and when tied to metals, in the 13th century allowed the idea of oscillation or the repetitive beat, like that of a pendulum in this astronomical clock from the Exeter Cathedral in England.

Wound metal, or springs, could also produce oscillation so by the 17th century, with many choices for automation, clocks were getting fairly common and more accurate, even on carriages.

And, with more and better techniques for manipulating metal, the size of clocks became smaller (made by watchmakers, derived from clocks in “watch towers”), so that one could carry a clock in one’s pocket  or wear it on your lapel or on your wrist -- a wrist watch.

Today, with the ever-increasing use of phones and tablet-sized computers as a timepiece, watches may disappear from usage, much as the pocket watch has today, but the need to know, with accuracy, what the time is at the moment, will assure the existence of clocks.

I once asked a psychic with whom I was working on a television production, what his thinking was about the universe.  “Everything is a rhythm,” he said. “From the beating of your heart to the movement of stars and the passage of time.  It is all a rhythm, which is why we respond to music or can become mesmerized by a ticking clock.”

___________________

The tick of the clock reminds me that today is fading away, while tomorrow is inexorably on its way.
~~ Ronald D. Giles

Hymns and Their Stories: Trinity Presbyterian Church, Berwyn, PA

  This Sunday evening, Joan and I have the privilege of presenting a Hymns program at a church celebrating their 150th Anniversary.

Trinity Presbyterian was organized in October 1861, during the dark, uncertain times of a War between the states.  Not a verbal war, like today, but a real one where citizens were dying.

Five states seceded from the Union in January of that year and by February, seven states had formed another country and had elected their own President.

Lincoln did not take office until April and five weeks afterwards the shooting and killing began as war broke out at Ft. Sumter. 

About that time, my Great Grandfather, James Wheatley Giles, enlisted in the Union Army at a small church near Stockdale, Ohio; he was 14.  When he returned home in 1865, he was still a teenager, but had experienced four years of carnage as member of an artillery unit.

At the end of that year, 1861, Trinity Church received a gift from the minister’s former congregation in Montreal Canada – a church bell, which still hangs in the belfry, having witnessed 150 years of history from its lofty position. 

Here is the format we will use for our 125th Hymns presentation, a journey Joan and I began together in 1997.

Come if you can; otherwise, hum along.

Hymns and Their Stories

Trinity Presbyterian Church, Berwyn, PA 150^th Anniversary Celebration – October 9, 2011 – 7:00pm                                     Ronald D. Giles, Baritone;                        Joan E. Giles, Piano

1. “Of the Father’s Love Begotten” – Text: Aurelius Clemens Prudentius, ca 390    Music: 12th Century Plainsong               Hymn #309

Verses 1 & 3 -- Ron

2. “Be Thou My Vision" – 8^th Century Irish Text; Irish Folk Melody; Translated by Mary Byrne, 1905; Versified by Eleanor Hull   Music arranged by Craig Courtney

Verse 1 -- Ron; Verse 2 -- All in Unison;          Verse 3 -- Ron

3. “Comfort, Comfort You My People” – Text: Johannes Olearius, 1671;  Music: Attributed to Louis Bourgeois, Geneva 1551; Music arranged by John Ferguson                                                      Hymn # 3

Verse 1 – Ron; Verses 2 & 3 – All in Unison

4. “It is Well With My Soul” – Text: Horatio Spafford, 1874;  Music: Phillip Bliss, 1874, arranged by John Ness Beck

Ron and Joan

5. “How Great Thou Art” – Text: C. G. Boberg, 1885; English Version, S. K Hine, 1953; Music: Swedish Folk Tune.           Arranged by Craig Courtney                    Hymn #467

Verses 1 & 3 -- Ron; Verse 4 – All in Unison

6. “I Danced in the Morning” - Text: Sydney Carter, 1963; Music – American Shaker Tune Hymn #302

Verses 1-3 – All in Unison; Verse 4 – Ron; Refrain – All in Unison. Verse 5 – All in Unison

7. “Here I Am, Lord” – Text and Music: Dan Schutte, 1981 -- Hymn# 525

Verses – Ron; Refrain, All in Unison

8. “This Little Light/ This Joy” – Spirituals, arranged by Jeffrey Radford, 1993

Verse 1—This Little Light of Mine -- All in Unison . Verse 2 – Ron – This Joy of Mine     Verse 3 – This Hope of Mine – All in Unison Verse 4 – This Faith I Have – Parts – S.A.T.B. Verse 5 – This Peace I Have – All in Unison

President Ford’s Daily Dairy May 13, 1976

From 1974 - 1977, I was Executive Producer of the Scripps-Howard station in Cincinnati, Ohio, WCPO-TV.  Our anchorman, Al Schottlekotte was also Vice President of TV News for Scripps-Howard and UPI.  When Ron Nessen, the then White House Press Secretary, called to grant Al a 30 minute interview with President Ford in the Oval Office, Al divided the time equally between himself and two other Scripps anchors – one from Cleveland and the other from Tennessee.  Schottlekotte asked me to produce and direct the three anchor interview, to be taped in the Oval Office using our equipment.

In writing about this interview with President Ford in 1976 for my new book, “TV Stories,” I went to the Ford Presidential Library Website to see if I could view the presidential schedule for that day, May 13, 1976. Sure enough, it was there.  See page two below, 11:00am – 11:35.

Digitization of archival material has made it possible to look at Presidential Schedules and many other things and has revolutionized all kinds of research.  I thought you might be interested in the President’s exhausting schedule for that day.  It begins at 1:08 am and ends when the President retires after a 10:00pm swim.

 

 

“The Prey” included in Chester County Fiction

 On October 2, a new book will be launched – an anthology of short stories by Chester County Authors, setting their stories in Chester County.

Sixteen stories ranging from historic fiction to drama to terror will be included in this book by thirteen writers living in the same county; I am pleased to say my short story, titled “The Prey” is among the sixteen.
Here is an excerpt from my hunter’s tale:

Four dogs—three bluetick-hound hunting dogs and one larger black dog—stood on the road in front of me. Their master was not in sight. The hounds were big dogs—knee high at their shoulders, crotch-high heads, long tails held upright. Two started to bark at me; the third joined in, while the fourth, the black dog, smelled the ground. Without an owner, they were a pack, relying on ancient, wolf-like instincts; these dogs were a serious danger to me.

I slid the gun off my back and broke the double barrels open. My hand was trembling as I took two red shotshells from my pocket and dropped them into the chambers, closing the gun with a thump.

~~~~
The Book Launch will take place at Baldwin’s Book Barn in West Chester, PA Sunday October 2 at 2:00pm.  If you are in the area, please stop in (a free beer to attendees who desire, I’m told). And, Kudos to Jim Breslin for bringing the project together.
 
Otherwise visit Amazon.com.
Cheers !!!

Vengeance Is Not Mine

Listening to the minister Sunday morning, she read a passage from Romans:

^“9 Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. ¹⁰ Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor. ¹¹Do not be slothful in zeal,be fervent in spirit,^[a] serve the Lord. ¹² Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. ¹³ Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality.

¹⁴ Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. ¹⁵ Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. ¹⁶ Live in harmony with one another. Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly.^[b] Never be wise in your own sight. ¹⁷ Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all. ¹⁸If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. ¹⁹Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it^[c] to the wrath of God, for it is written, "Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord."²⁰To the contrary, "if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head." ²¹Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”

Over my career, I have had people who have done me harm – corporately, financially – in ways that I could not imagine doing myself, or could not bring myself to do.  I have always kept the list of three to myself, trying not to dwell on them, but sometimes in the dark of a sleepless night, I do utter their names, never with flattering words; it is my revenge.

Yesterday, I was reminded, once again, that vengeance is not mine, but is reserved for a higher power.  Instead of retribution, I should be kind and forgiving of them.

The passage of time and distance has separated me from my three adversaries; we all live in far-away places, hundreds of miles from each other and have not seen one another for years.  On the surface, it makes little sense to care any longer about the issues that divided us, yet…I still feel the tip of their daggers in my back.

Another memory came to me while sitting in the pew: my list had included four names, but the fourth one drowned 12 years ago in the Pacific off the California Coast.

TV Stories – Captain Kangaroo -- WBNS-TV, Columbus, Ohio

The following is an excerpt from a new book I am writing tentatively titled "TV Stories," recalling many amusing, heartwarming and confounding anecdotes collected from my 35 year career in commercial television.

~~~~

Among the celebrities that I worked with at WBNS-TV was Captain Kangaroo—Bob Keeshan. He was the host of the CBS morning children’s show, “Captain Kangaroo” that ran on CBS from 1955 till 1984.

For the TV History buffs among the Dear Readers of this, Bob Keeshan also played Clarabell the Clown on the “Howdy Doody” shows of black and white TV in the late 1940’s and early 1950’s.

Captain Kangaroo aired from 8:00 to 9:00 in the morning and was followed on our station by “Luci’s Toyshop,” from 9-10:00, forming a two hour block of live television for pre-school children.

In 1971, the Easter Seal Society of Ohio hosted a Fashion Show as a fund raiser at the Ohio Theatre in downtown Columbus. Captain Kangaroo was to be the host of the stage show, featuring children with disabilities.

Because he was coming to Columbus for the Sunday afternoon event, I called CBS, as Producer-Director of “Luci’s Toyshop,” and asked if the Captain would come over after his appearance for Easter Seals, and tape a couple of promos for our children’s show. “Yes,” was his publicist’s reply; he had an hour that he could devote to promotion by coming to our station before catching his plane back to New York; however, I would have to supply transportation to the station and then to the airport. My 1970 Toyota Station Wagon would serve as the taxi, with me as the driver for the Captain.

I showed up at the Ohio Theatre while the two hour Fashion Show was winding down. Waiting off stage in the wings as the Captain’s theme song played, I watched the conclusion as he waved goodbye to the audience and exited while the big, burgundy stage curtains closed.

Introducing myself to him, he was gracious and then said, “Ron, I know that you have a crew waiting for me at your station, but I need to take an extra twenty minutes here to do something.”

People were filing out the center aisles, slowly as children using wheelchairs and those walking with aids worked their way out the back doors of the large theatre. The Captain motioned for me to follow him as we crossed the stage to the wings on the other side.

In that area were about twenty children lying in beds, unable to sit or stand, waiting to use the big double doors to exit to the alley for transportation. Because of their conditions, these children had not been able to participate in the stage show, so to make their time special, Captain Kangaroo spent the next twenty minutes touching them, speaking with them and their parents, signing autographs for them, getting pictures taken with each of them.

Bob Keeshan understood the power of his character, Captain Kangaroo—and also understood the responsibility of it. The scene was joyous, moving and unforgettable.

Bob Keeshan, 1927-2004.

Link to: Captain Kangaroo Theme -- "Puffin' Billy"

"Hymns and Their Stories" -- Sunday, July 17, 2011

Some of you may know that Joan and I are involved in promoting the understanding of Hymns, the stories behind their writing, and encouraging congregational singing. We have been presenting musical programs of hymns at churches since 1997 and have appeared over 120 time at venues in Ohio, New Jersey and Pennsylvania.

I am fortunate to be married to a fine pianist and accompanist who can cover and swing with my spur-of-the-moment inspirations. Below is the format that Joan and I will present this Sunday on Long Beach Island in New Jersey at the historic Spray Beach Chapel, built in 1893 and open during the tourist season there, May through September.

Drop by, if you can. Otherwise, hum along:

Worship Service

Spray Beach Chapel – Long Beach Island, NJ

Sunday July 17, 2011 – 9:30am – Hymnal for Worship & Celebration

Ronald D. Giles, Baritone -- Joan E. Giles, Accompanist

Welcome – Hymn 588 -- The Prayer of Convocation -- The Prayer of Confession --

1. “Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee” – Text: Henry Van Dyke, 1907;

Hymn #1 Music: Ludwig van Beethoven “Ninth Symphony,” 1824

Verses 1 & 2 – All in Unison

2. “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing” – Text: Robert Robinson, 1757;

Hymn #2 Music: Folk tune published by J. Wyeth, 1813; arr. by Mark Hayes

Ron and Joan

3. “Praise My Soul The King of Heaven” – Text: Henry Lyte, 1834;

Hymn #3 Music: Mark Andrews, 1934

Verse 1 – Ron; Verse 2 – All in Unison

4. “How Great Thou Art” – Text: Carl Boberg, 1885; English text, Stuart Hine;

Swedish Folk Tune, arranged by John Ness Beck

Hymn #4 Verse 1 -- Ron;

Verse 3 -- Ron;

Verse 4 -- All in Unison

~~ Morning Offering ~~

~ Prayer—Offertory—Doxology ~

5. " On Eagle’s Wings” Words and Music by Father Michael Joncas, 1988;

Arranged by Mark Hayes

Ron

6. “O God, Beyond All Praising” – Text: Michael Perry, 1982;

Music: Gustav Holst, 1918, arranged by Jane Holstein

Separate Sheet Verse 1 – Ron;

Verse 2 – All in Unison

7. “This Little Light/ This Joy” – Spirituals, arranged by Jeffrey Radford, 1993

Verse 1—This Little Light of Mine -- All in Unison

Separate Sheet Verse 2 – Ron – This Joy of Mine

Verse 3 – This Hope of Mine – All in Unison

Verse 4 – This Faith I Have – Parts – S.A.T.B.

Verse 5 – This Peace I Have – All in Unison

Musical Closing – “Benediction” (“May the Lord Bless You”) – Music: Joan Giles, 1999

"You know when you're young you think you will always be. As you become more fragile, you reflect, and you realize how much comfort can come from the past. Hymns can carry you into the future." ~~ Andy Griffith

Editors

I have enjoyed working with editors because in their picky, prickly way they make me a better writer. For example, I have almost stopped Emphasizing some words in the middle of a sentence by capitalizing them.

I now know the difference and the proper use of "stairs" vs "steps" and "until" vs. "til." I still have problems with consistency -- "Dad" in some paragraphs, but my "Father" in other places in the same chapter (or page).

Then there is the dash or more specifically, the em dash and the en dash, not to be confused with the hyphen. I'm playing it safe in my writing these days by always using the em dash after getting many laughs and smiley faces from an editor who took particular delight in pointing out the mistake I kept making over and over.

The hyphen -- or more correctly, the compound adjective hyphen linking two words -- recently reared its head in a short story I wrote where the main character was carrying a 10-gauge shotgun. In other paragraphs, the character was simply carrying the 10 gauge. The editor didn't like the inconsistency of hyphen or no hyphen and suggested that I pick one and stick with it.

Finally, there is the exclamation point! Personally, I think it looks better with a space between it and the word, otherwise, it looks like another letter in the word and loses some of its Emphasis.

(Don't get me started on... ellipses.)

"I try to limit my use of an exclamation point to one every 10,000 words!"

~~ William Faulkner

A New Way of Working

With the Industrial Revolution in progress, in order to find work, people moved from rural settings to close-by the factories in order to walk to work daily. As trollies and commuter rails began slicing through ever growing communities, workers could move away from the noisy factories to quiet tree-lined, sub-urban settings.

Then with the advent of the motor car, employees moved even further away from their work, out "the Main Line," to find bigger houses and bigger lawns and better schools. Roads and super roads were built to convey tens of thousands of cars daily into work. High Occupancy Vehicle Lanes (defined curiously as two or more occupants in the car) were created for those who "car-pooled." Some would drive an hour or more, like I did in Boston on the Mass Pike, to get to WBZ-TV, and my job; other friends in the television business who used mass transit would take the train from Connecticut to New York City, traveling two hours each way to get to their offices in Manhattan.

Now we find ourselves arguing over the solution to the cost of commuting to work and ending our dependence on foreign oil while traveling daily in single cars to "work."

Here's an idea:

Have your employees work from home, rather than driving or taking mass transit to work. Many could -- customer service reps, CAD designers, graphics artists, Internet services -- create your own list. Fewer parking places to maintain, fewer cubicles to buy, less personnel issues, less office supplies, less coffee etc. And, less oil. Use the technology of today rather than a 20th century model.

Yes, there would be worker productivity issues, monitoring progress, employees who would work from 11:00pm to 6:00am, rather than 9-5pm -- simply issues to be solved in my mind, given the benefits.

What do you think?

(Funny what runs through your mind while driving on Interstate 70.)