All posts by David Todd

book reviews, The Candy Store Generation

Book Review: 110 People Who Are Screwing Up America

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I had heard about this book by Bernard Goldberg for a long time. I see Goldberg from time to time on Fox News Channel, always on the program The O’Reilly Factor, and believe him to be a thoughtful individual, who doesn’t form opinions in a knee-jerk manner based on an overall ideology, but rather thinks them through on a case-by-case basis and makes the conclusion he feels right. I like this kind of intellectual honesty.

Yet, I wasn’t about to spend money on this kind of book. Yet, when I saw one in a thrift store for 50  cents, I decided to make the investment and buy it. It’s sat on my storage table at work, in a box with twenty other books, for at least two years. Finally, looking for something to read that I could read in short spurts, ten minutes on the noon hour, five minutes on break, I chose this one.

The bottom line: I’m glad I read it, won’t ever read it again, won’t put it in my library, and will probably throw it in the trash rather than donate it back to the thrift store. It’s not a bad book, but it’s simply not worth keeping. Of the 110 people in the list I had heard of 54, I think, but knew specifics on only 2/3 of those. A lot of them I agree with; some I didn’t know enough to either agree or disagree, and Goldberg’s opinions stand without my approval or disapproval.

So what’s wrong with the book? It’s so outdated. Written around 2005, published in 2006, it misses ten years of our nation’s change. It might have been more useful immediately after being written, but now not so much. If Goldberg were to write that book now, I imagine at least 30 percent of his entries would be different.

candy-store-ebook-finalI was interested in this book because I also wrote about this topic in my book The Candy Store Generation: How the Baby Boomers Are Screwing-Up America. Of course, I focused on a whole generation rather than try to pick out a few individuals. Still, the similarity between my book and Goldberg’s helped to heighten my interest. I hope, however, that I did a better job with mine to have meaning for a greater span of years.

self-publishing, Writing

Sales Report for First Half of 2016

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Hello to my loyal reader. Or, if there are more than one of you out there, readers. I don’t believe I made a sales report here at the end of the first quarter 2016. It’s now the end of the second quarter. Time to report sales. At my self-publishing diary thread at Absolute Write, I’ve been reporting sales in this format:

………1Q…..2Q…..3Q…..4Q
2011….2…….7……11…..15
2012…16…..73……45…..22
2013…14…..22……16…..13
2014…..7…..48……27……2
2015…11…..25……38……9
2016…. 9……6

As you can see, 2nd quarter 2016 was far from stellar. Of course, I added no new titles and did no promotion except an occasional post on Facebook, something I’m sure my friends are getting tired of seeing.

I’ll keep plugging along. In a week or two I’m make a post to tell of my current writing endeavors. For right now, the sales report will have to suffice.

miscellaneous, trials

Serenity vs. Tragedy

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Once again, yesterday, I was struck at the difference between serenity and tragedy, and how the two coexist simultaneously, right next to each other.

I conducted a final inspection of a construction project yesterday. It was a big project, and we divided it into two mornings. Yesterday was the second. I met folks on the site at 9:00 a.m., though I was there early enough to drive the roads around the project and check them. The day before had been hot, and I was exhausted at the end. Yesterday was cooler, cloudy, with rain threatening. It did in fact sprinkle on us soon after we started. At one point it was more than sprinkling, and we ducked under a covered entrance. The coolness helped us; the rain hindered us. Less than two hours after starting, we had a short punch list of things to correct, and I headed back to the office.

It was pizza day at the office, a replacement for bar-b-que day since our lunch room is closed for renovation. While on site an e-mail had come through to my phone that said the pizza would be there around 11:30. I think it was just before 11 that I parked and walked to the building. Three guys from the office were standing at the door I use, so I said, “I bet you guys are here to intercept the pizza dude and get first dibs!” One man said no, they had come outside to give a certain woman in the office some space (I won’t identify her), that she had screamed loudly, having learned of some significant problem over the phone.

I walked inside. All was dead quiet. We have a relatively quiet workplace, but not like this. I wasn’t sure what was going on, and stayed in my office for a while, waiting till I heard something. I checked the woman’s Facebook feed, and found nothing. A half hour later I was still as much in the dark. Then, on the Facebook feed of the wife of a co-worker came a notice to pray for an unnamed close friend, who had lost a son in tragic circumstances. Could this have been the tragedy? I checked the pages of her adult children (to the extent they were public), and again found nothing.

The pizza was there, so I went to eat. Everyone was talking as you normally would at a lunch provided by the company. Or, perhaps slightly muted compared to normal. I couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary. The woman wasn’t around, but she often isn’t for these kinds of lunches.

The afternoon rolled on, business as usual for me, and for those I encountered. My work didn’t take me at all by this woman’s desk, and I didn’t know how to ask about what had happened. Finally, the workday over, I headed to my pick-up, and in the parking lot talked with one of our admin assistants who was also leaving. She said that our co-worker had indeed lost her son, unexpectedly in tragic circumstances.

I drove home, stopping for milk and ice cream. We heated leftovers for supper, then I picked blackberries around our circle, finding a new patch not very far from the house. It was my best day yet for picking. After that I went through the mail, did some trading accounting work in The Dungeon until my computer locked up. Then I went back upstairs and read till close to 11:00 p.m. A small but strong thunderstorm knocked out our internet and cable, so all was quiet within the house—serene.

All evening the contrast stayed with me, in a way I hadn’t felt for about three decades. All was serene with me and, in the office, with my co-workers. Except for this one woman, who started the day serenely but ended it having to bury her son. I thought how tomorrow (which is now today) would be the same way. This morning her Facebook page finally confirmed publicly what I’d been told privately.

For most of us the world goes on. Most of our times in America are serene, calm. Business sometimes brings stress, as does the myriad of simple chores required to live. But our worst problems are serenity compared to what she is facing.

Dear God, give her and her family strength through this tragedy. Bring them through the initial grieving to a place of peace, your peace. Help them to say goodbye to their loved one and to carry forward fond memories. Heal their scars from this, and bring them to a place of triumph. And may we, who live lives or relative serenity, be more observant of and helpful to those who don’t.

miscellaneous

Very Busy

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Sorry to be absent of late. I’ve been very busy with “domestic” items, including watching grandkids for 9 day, dealing with outdoor property stuff, and working on both outdoor and indoor projects. It’s my plan to get back to a more regular blogging schedule. It’s my plan. Will it become a reality? Stay tuned.

family

R.I.P. Arthur Miles Vick, Jr.

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Norman and Arthur - cropped - about 1928
Arthur Vick (front) with his cousin Norman Todd, abt 1928

Yesterday one of my dad’s first cousins, Arthur Miles Vick, Jr., was laid to rest in the National Cemetery in Fayetteville, Arkansas. A Navy veteran from World War 2, he received military honors at his burial. Here’s a link to his obituary in the local newspaper.

Arthur was born August 5, 1922, in Providence Rhode Island, either in the Olneyville or Silver Lake district. His parents were Arthur Vick Sr. and Mabel Evers. He joined a sister eight years older, Madeline, and they completed the family. He was part of the larger Vick family of Rhode Island, which included the Todds, Willises, and Millers. The extended family scattered, as most do these days, to Michigan, New Jersey, Chicago, and eventually many other places.

When World War 2 came, Arthur was drafted into the Navy, and served on the USS Woonsocket in the Atlantic. After the war he returned to Rhode Island and married Agnes Boyd. They had three children: Alan in 1950, and twins Robyn and Gail in 1953. These would eventually add seven grandchildren to the family.

I knew Arthur. I won’t say fairly well, for often one generation doesn’t come to know the one next to them all that well. Arthur and my dad were first cousins. We living in part of Cranston close to Providence, and they living in part of Providence fairly close to Cranston, we got together with them more than any other of the Vick family. In winter we would go to their house and walk to the sledding area of Neutaconkanut Hill. In summers they sometimes rented a cottage for a week or two right next to my grandparents’ home on Point Judith Pond, and we would share times there.

We all attended church together at the Church of the Epiphany, Episcopal denomination, on Elmwood Avenue in Providence. The Norman Todd family sat on the first row, left side, and the Arthur Vick family sat on the second row right behind us. Discipline being the way it was, we didn’t “cut up” back and forth between rows. But we knew family was close.

Through all these encounters I knew Arthur and his wife Agnes, at least a little. I have memories of being at certain places with Arthur at certain times. Family gatherings in Providence, Cranston, and Warwick. And of course summers in Snug Harbor. I actually must confess I knew nothing of his profession until after his death, learning he owned a construction company. That makes sense, as his father owned a construction company, his grandfather worked as a plasterer, and many Vicks in prior generations in England worked in the building trades. Arthur continued in this tradition.

At some point they gave up their home on Harlam Ave. in Providence, and moved to a retirement place in Wakefield RI. Two decades later, Arthur now in his 90s and Agnes approaching that, they moved to the Northwest Arkansas areas to receive help from their two children who had relocated here. However, it wasn’t but a couple of weeks before Arthur left this world.

Yesterday, after a time of visiting, remembering Arthur privately and between relatives, an Anglican funeral mass was held in the funeral home in downtown Fayetteville. We left there in caravan, wrapped once around the Fayetteville square, and headed to the National Cemetery. A bright sun shone on us as we drove slowly, only to be obscured by clouds as we parked in the cemetery. The rain that was coming held off, however, until late afternoon. Under the roof of an outdoor chapel, a short service was held. A recording of Taps was played. Two Navy honor guards in dress blues folded the flag with extreme care and presented it to Agnes. The Anglican priest said a few more words, a very appropriate closing to a sad few hours.

Arthur will be missed, especially by Agnes, Alan, Robyn, and Gail. I pray for their comfort in this time. As I write this at work I have no photo of Arthur to upload, except the one at the top, cropped from a larger one. My dad is the boy in back, Arthur is the one in front. If I find another photo of good quality at home later, I’ll add it.

 

Writing

I’m Not There Yet—Writing, That Is

Every night when I go home from the office I have a to-do list that can’t possibly be accomplished that night. Last night, Thursday, was a good example. I’m writing this at the end of the work day on Friday, and I think I left the to-do list for yesterday at home. I remember it included a certain item of yard work, something I’m spending 60 to 90 minutes on every evening. It included adding entries to the checkbook, totaling it, and entering items in my budget sheet. It also included: measuring for shelves in the storeroom; stocks research; moving certain items to their proper storage location; and some leisure things such as reading a chapter in a book. Oh, yes, and fixing supper.

I arrived at the house and fixed supper for me and my mother-in-law (my wife being out of town, helping with grandchildren). Since we had a leftover main course it didn’t take long. Then I went out for the yard work. Back inside around 8:15 p.m., I discovered I had left my checkbook at the office. Obviously that significant part of my to-do list had to be postponed. So I tackled some of the other items on the list, with some success. I found five potential stock trades to make today (made one this morning, successfully). I put some things in their storage location. I read a chapter. I cleaned up some papers, putting them in the right recycling bin. When I headed to bed at 11:15 p.m., my breakfast and lunch prepared and packed, needing only to be taken out of the fridge in the morning, I felt good.

But, the one thing not on my to-do list was writing. And it’s not likely to be on it anytime soon. Too much to do in too many areas leave me no time for writing. Oh, I could squeeze out 15 minutes here, maybe even an hour or two on Sunday, and get something done, but it seems pointless. I have no sales of what I’ve already published, and no time to correct a few errors in two of them. And, no time to promote them. Why write more stuff if I can’t properly manage the things I have published now? So the only writing I’ve done in the last three or four months is a little bit of work on a possible family history book in my wife’s family. It was probably time wasted, and what I was able to accomplish has about convinced me that I will never be able to write the book I had in mind. Alas.

One day, I hope, I will be able to return to writing. Creative writing. Novels, non-fiction, Bible studies. One day, I hope, but not now. Not in the foreseeable future.

miscellaneous

Caring

I need to give up caring. It only leads to pain.

Of course, without caring there is no trying.

Without trying there is no living.

Without living there is only dying.

A small part of me died yesterday and today. There’s not much left.

Genealogy, Writing

Research while Searching

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I’m searching for a topic to write on right now. Well, I’m sort of searching. I have six or seven things I know I’m going to write. Hopefully, someday in the future (the nearer the better), I’ll be able to carve out meaningful time to write. At present I can only carve out a few quarter hours at a time. That’s not enough to make the effort worthwhile, so I don’t carve out that time and write.

So instead, what I’m doing is researching. That may sound strange, especially when I say that I let the time I spend researching drag out to hours at a time. How can I justify the time to research when I can’t justify the time to write? My only answer to that is: All time spent researching will eventually show up in writing, somehow, somewhere, sometime in the future.

In 2015 and a little in 2016, my research project has been Thomas Carlyle, leading to two different works of his. I’ve discussed that on this blog before. However, that is perhaps useless research, as I’m not certain I’ll ever actually get those two works written. Both of them are started, and both are well along. However, they will have limited appeal, and I don’t know that they will add to any scholarship on Carlyle. Anyhow, I’ve set that aside for now, all except for occasional reading in his letters (I did a little of that last night).

About two weeks ago I decided to get on with research on another project. My wife’s immigrant ancestor in her paternal line is John Cheney. He came to Massachusetts Bay Colony in 1635, residing for a few months in Roxbury before removing to Newbury. A history of the Cheney family in the USA was written in 1897 by Charles Henry Pope. As is typical of genealogies written about that time, it focuses on the men, all those who carried the Cheney name forward. The daughters and granddaughters are given very short treatment.

My goal with this book is to document John Cheney’s life in a more expansive way than Pope could in 1897, given the limit of the resources available to him, and to list all (or as many as I can identify) of his descendants for three generations. Much has been learned over the years, especially in the Internet era. More is coming available every year as more and more documents are scanned and made available for viewing on the Internet, sometimes for a fee, but often for free. I won’t be able to identify all the descendants for those generations. John Cheney had 12 children, 10 who lived to adulthood, 9 of whom had offspring. They produced the third generations, and had a total of 65 children (at current count; trying to verify three more). Of those, it appears around 50 married. If they produced an average of 6.5 children, as their parents did, that would be 325 names in the fourth generation, the third generation of John Cheney’s descendants. That’s a lot of people, even in the Internet era.

So, I’m doing this research, trying to verify what Pope has in his book (which includes no sources for specific data), and trying to add information on the daughters and their offspring. I’m reasonably complete on John Cheney’s children, and can see an end coming for his grandchildren. I have only nine left with no information other than a name and who their parents are, plus the three that people. While I’ve been writing this blog post I’ve been going back to this research, and have found reliable publications that goes a long way to documenting the children of one of John Cheney’s daughters. I had their names from Pope’s book, but not a lot of data. I still don’t have as much documented data as I’d like, but with this new source I have a lot more. Yea!

I think I’ll end this. Time to button up this new find, write the name of the source, save the URL, and put this info in a place where I can find it later, on my Nook and on my computer at work. Progress as promised. I love research.

books, interviews

Author Interview – Faith Blum

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HotWest - The Solid RockFaith Blum, who is a fellow member at an Internet writers site, has a book out that I suspect some readers of my blog might be interested in. It’s The Solid Rock, which is available at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Solid-Rock-Hymns-West-Book-ebook/dp/B01CWCDBJK DAT: The Solid Rock sounds like a title for a non-fiction Christian book. But your book is a novel How did you come up with that title? Faith: All of the novels in my series are named after hymns and the hymns are woven in throughout. I chose The Solid Rock because the theme of the song fit the theme of the book so well. I didn’t know exactly how well until I finished the rough draft, though. It was perfect! DAT: Give us a 60 second tour of the book. Faith: The Solid Rock is a Christian Western Mystery about a talented detective with a mission to find his kidnapped colleague who ends up working undercover with a heinous outlaw who has more plans than first meet the eye. DAT: The description of the book at Amazon gives no hint of any romance element. Is there one? And if so, tell us a little about it. Faith: There are a couple of slight romance subplots in the story. I’ll try to tell you about them without giving spoilers away. One is between the daughter of the missing detective and another young man. He’s been waiting for God’s leading to ask her father’s permission to court her and finally gets it. There are also five mail order brides in the story, although their romances are mostly told in the three novellas that will be coming out this summer. The other romance subplot happens mostly in the final chapters and epilogue, so I can’t really tell you anything about it without major spoilers. DAT: What do you hope readers will take away from your book?

Faith: I hope readers will see that Christians aren’t perfect and that’s okay as long as they continue to let God guide them.
DAT: This is book five in the Hymns of the West series. What are your plans for this series? When might we expect the next book in it?
Faith BlumFaith: For now, I plan to end the series with The Solid Rock. My spin-off series, Hymns of the West Novellas, still has three novellas coming this summer, though. And I am currently writing a series called Orphans of the West about some of the orphans who have been introduced in either a novel or a novella. I am also planning to write two other series’ about the descendants of characters from either the novels or novellas leading all the way up to current times, and possibly a slightly futuristic novel or two. That will depend on how long it takes me to write the other series’. So even though this particular series is coming to an end, the characters will live on.I hope some of you will buy Faith’s book. Check out her website:http://www.faithblum.com/and her series page on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/HymnsoftheWestOh, and Faith is doing a giveaway: a full set of paperback books! Fill out this form to earn entries to the giveaway. Each entry gives you one point, plus there are opportunities for bonus entries.
miscellaneous, self-publishing, stock market

Back to Normal?

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Yesterday we took our three grandchildren back to their parents in Oklahoma City. We took them to our house to spend Spring Break, intending to bring them back today. However, having a 7 year old, 5 year old, and almost 3 year old proved to be a bit much on the nerves and constitution. So back they went, a day early. That means today we were back to normal.

But what is normal? Is there such a thing? My “normal” I mean usual routines. I am a creature of routine, I must admit. Yet, for the last year or more I have not been able to find or establish a routine. My work at the office is somewhat routine. Leave the house the same time each day; work till lunch; eat lunch at my desk; walk a mile if weather and energy permit; work the afternoon; leave each day about the same time and drive home. The activities on any individual day could shift, but they rotate among predictable tasks.

Evening has become a little routine. I’m hot and heavy into stock trading right now, trying to come upon a winning formula that will allow us to recover from prior losses. Alas, that takes up all of the evening. Or, more correctly, it takes up all the remaining brain energy. By the time I spend an hour or two figuring out what to do with stock trading, I have no mental energy left for much else. I might be able to file papers or update the family budget records. But creative writing? No, won’t happen.

So, I’ve written nothing since October last, other than the Blizzard of 1948 story for the Meade County Historical Society webpage (which they have yet to post; not sure why). Things continue to float through my head, and I continue to suppress them. I have three works that need revision. On is a very minor revision on one page, and applies only to a print version and Kindle version. That should be easy. The other two require a number of typos to be fixed in each, and each having two different e-book versions and no print version. Those are three discreet tasks. They aren’t exactly creative writing, but they will further my writing “career,” so I should knuckle down and do them.

Perhaps I will this week. Before starting this blog post I finished my income taxes. I had them almost all done two weeks ago, or maybe three, but then the non-routine got in the way of the non-routine, and I had to lay tax preparation aside. But I just got them done, now needing only printing, signing, copying, and mailing. That’s the last non-routine item out of the way, which should allow me to concentrate more on writing.

May it be so.