Yes, I'm Judging A Book By Its Cover (And Other Things...)

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Sometime last week, I noticed a Facebook post from another beginning author (to be honest, he's further along than I in the process...). He recommended a podcast , a podcast to help beginning--or even experienced--authors. It's called (and it's a great name for a podcast...) "The Other Side of the Story." I subscribed and have enjoyed the half-dozen productions that have been made. It's creator is Matt Myklusch.

And, as things go sometimes, on the latest podcast, Matt announced a book giveaway. His latest book, "The Secret War" was being released and so he gave instructions on how someone could come to win this book. I followed the instructions and, as things go sometimes, I was one of the lucky winners. A free book? Are you kidding? Of course I want a free book!

Today was the day the book arrived. Everyone's heard the adage, "You can't just a book by its cover," or maybe it goes, "You shouldn't judge a book by its cover." Either way, the message is not to do it. Well, I'm going to ignore this wise council and talk about my newly received prize.

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Just check out that cover! Personally, I think it rocks. It's the second book in the Jack Blank adventure series and you can find out more about the podcast, the author, and the books here: OTHER SIDE SHOW.COM. The author was kind enough to autograph the book and even included a personalized note--things he didn't need to do. In fact, he didn't need to send the book (at his expense...) in the first place.

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I hope to read the book soon. But, as many of you know, finding time to read is difficult. More likely than not, I'll have the kids read it first then give me their opinions. So, Mike--I've judged your book before reading it. And, I've also judged you, to a certain extent. Both, in my humble opinion, are first-rate.

*Photos of book and website artwork were used without permission.

How To Make Homemade Ice Cream...

First, go to the store and buy ice. You can pick up the seven pound bag, or the 20 pound bag. If you're making more than one batch, the 20 pounder's the way to go.

Next, fish out the ice cream maker from whichever nook and/or cranny the ice cream maker is currently hiding. Ours was behind several buckets of food stuffs in the pantry. We have a Proctor-Silex brand, which, I believe, is Portuguese for "Miracle Creator Of Deliciousness."

Once the unfrozen ice cream is in the chamber of coolness, add the before-mentioned ice in the machine, add a dash of rock salt, turn on the motor and bask in the sound of ice cream-making goodness. Once the cream and ice have fused together, place appropriate amounts is various serving dishes and enjoy!

Of course, the most important ingredient for making homemade ice cream is...a teenage son who's willing to do all the work for you. Trust me on this one, it makes the ice cream so much better!

The House On The Hill With The Long, Long Driveway...

The sign is not new. It was put up last year before a nice family moved in. Once in, the sign came down. Soon the nice family will be moving out and finding another place to live. Once they do, the house on the hill with the long, long driveway will be empty again. We will miss the nice family and we hope only the best for whatever paths they choose to follow.

Before the nice family moved in, another family lived in the house on the hill with the long, long driveway. They bought the house from a single mother of two who, along with her husband at the time, designed their dream home and, like most home owners trying to build their own home, endured many struggles along the way.

Soon no one will drive or walk up the long, long driveway and the house on the hill will become quiet once again. As with most homes, someone--a family, maybe--will move in and become another part of the building's history. They'll add their name to the names of others who called the house on the hill home.

What Is Fadels Anyway?

Last year, November 30th, to be exact, I drove by a local landmark and thought about taking a picture of it. It was dark and I decided to just drive home. After all, I could always take a picture of it later. The next day hurricane winds tore through our neighborhood and that landmark ceased to be. I never did get a chance to take a picture of the big Christmas tree in Farmington.

 

Today I drove south along the frontage road and I saw another landmark, the Fadels sign. Anyone who grew up in Farmington for the past 40 years knows exactly what I'm talking about. Back then the sign stood alone in a field of weeds. Everyone who drove north or south on I-15 saw the sign. We would ride by on our bicycles heading to Bountiful and see the big white sign with only one word on it. Fadels.

The sign wasn't like the billboards that line our freeways today. There was no mention of what Fadels was, or where it was. For all we knew, Fadels could have been some fictional place that existed only in the mind of a sign builder.

But Fadels did exist. It took me years to figure out that Fadels was/is a furniture store in Salt Lake City. I googled it and it looks like it's still there, and there's a store in Bountiful. I decided to stop by the sign today and I'm glad I did. There's a public notice from the city telling the owners of the sign to fix it up or it will be demolished. 

As an advertising device, the sign is no longer effective. For the millions of cars that drive pass by, the sign now surrounded by homes and sound walls, only those who know the sign is there can even see it. I suppose if it does come down no one will know except those of us that remember when that strange shaped sign stood alone in a field of weeds.

Two Front Doors...

"Hey, you have two front doors. That's weird." I heard that same thing said from several people as we built our house. "Yeah," I replied. "But there's a reason." I would explain why we had two front doors, and it made sense to me whenever I told anyone who cared to listen.

It still makes sense to me nine years later.

Growing up, we had a mudroom that separated the garage from the rest of the house. It wasn't used that much. In fact, my father never got around to finishing the mudroom/bathroom before he passed away. As we drew up the house plan for our future home we drew in a laundry room right across the hall from a small bathroom. I thought we should put in a door so that when the kids were playing outside and were muddy and wet from playing outside (the way kids naturally are after playing outside...), the kids could go through the laundry room, go into the bathroom, then go right back outside without bringing the outdoors in with them.

I still think it's a good idea.

It's been nine years since we moved into our home. I underestimated how much time the kids would be playing outside. They play outside--don't get me wrong--just not as much as I thought they would. So the door to the laundry room, though functional, wasn't really needed. The room now doubles as a place where one of our cats sleeps. We have also, over the years, stacked stuff in front of the unused door. Today I cleaned out the room and let the sunshine in.

 

And that's why we have two front doors. Yes, it's a little weird, but I don't care.

Back Flip Bounce...A Short Story

 

 Time again for a Weekly Writing Prompt!

Again, here's the rules: 500 word maximum, must be posted to THIS website, the story must be posted before next Wednesday, and the story must include these five words:

Skyscraper

Bet

Reform

Balcony

Surface

Enjoy!
(Enjoy is not one of the required words...)

Back Flip Bounce

In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the smartest thing Tim Larson ever did, but the social pressure of a bet cannot be discounted, especially to an active 13-year old and the open invitation of a trampoline.

            It began as Tim walked across his back yard. “I’ll bet you can’t do a back flip off our balcony,” Johnny Butters sneered to his next-door neighbor who was trying his best to remain unnoticed. The plan didn’t work.

“I bet I can,” Tim responded. He did it all the time at the swimming pool. How hard could it be to do one on a trampoline? Tim really didn’t like Jimmy too much. The best way to define their relationship was mutual toleration and had remained so ever since the Butters family moved into the neighborhood a month before. Tim was sure Johnny had at one time escaped any number of reform schools. “Then prove it,” Johnny said.

Without a word Tim walked passed Johnny and continued up the wood stairs that led to the deck. Tim took off his Tevas and carefully climbed atop the wood railing that surrounded the deck. The peeling paint on the surface of the wood crunched under the boy’s weight.

Slowly Tim stood and surveyed the land below him. Even though the deck was only 10 feet off the ground, Tim felt as if he were standing on the roof of a skyscraper as the trampoline below seemed to grow smaller and smaller.

“Come on!” Johnny yelled. “You scared?”

“I’m going,” Tim said with only the slightest hint of fear in his voice.

Tim jumped, hit the surface and flew through the air until he came to rest on the deep grass of the Butters’s ignored backyard. He looked up and saw his house beyond a yellow foxtail lily that grew in the Butters’s yard and he hoped for two things. One, that nothing was broken and two, that his mom didn’t see what just happened.

In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the smartest thing Tim Larson ever did.

 

Two Friends, Two Photos...

Two days ago I came across two pictures that were recently posted to Facebook, one was a friend of mine, and the other was posted by my brother. It was a picture of me. I'm the one already off the bus.

That picture of Matt (used w/o permission--hope that's okay...) is just so classic! It really says so much about him that it's hard to describe. When we were younger, you had to have a bike. It was as important to us as kids as a car is to us as adults, and even though that bike might not look so hot now, back in the day, that was a nice ride. And Matt was a scout. I'm pretty sure he and I shared an elementary class photo together and he was wearing his scout uniform. As kids go, Matt was as good as they come.

The picture of me is a little newer, but probably only by five or six years. Somehow this photo surfaced at my brother's high school reunion. Since he's a few years older than me, I can deduce that this shot was taken in the early 1980's. Just as the picture of Matt details a lot about him, I suppose this picture of me reveals some facts, too. The first shocker that anyone who knows me sees is that amazing hair. I admit, I had some sweet hair. I mean, who didn't want Shawn Cassidy hair? And see those shoes? They were original Nike shoes, white with the read swoosh. I tried so hard to keep them clean.

Matt and I have known each other for decades and he's still my friend. He lives away from the small town where we both grew up. I wish he were closer if only to just hang out like we used to do. The pictures tell stories and even though they were taken at different times, they show a slice of our lives when we were just kids trying to stay cool in a world where what we thought was important, really wasn't. The pictures brought it all back...