Fiction Can Be Strange, But Writers Are Beyond Strange

I love going to Readercon. Even though I have to run around like a squirrel trying to collect nuts at the last minute before the cold winds of Winter come screaming down from the North. I can only have one day at Readercon, mainly because of Eddie, who will not allow me to leave him alone overnight. The last time I left him alone while I went to Bora Bora for a weekend, he had a wild party with some of his feathered friends, and trashed the place. There was bird poop everywhere.
Anyroad (anyway; anyhow), I left around 8 am yesterday morning, and arrived at the convention around 10 am. I didn't pre-register, so it took me about 3/4's of an hour to get through the rather long line at the registration desk. Then the race began. I brought 2 large duffel bags and a backpack, all filled with books to get signed. If I was not waiting in line at the Autograph desk for the various author signings, I was on my way to catch an author as he/she left a panel presentation (there were different discussion panels every hour featuring 3 to 5 writers with, of course, an audience that sometimes took part, and usually at least, got to ask questions after the presentation). There were also readings given by a wide variety of Authors (one at a time of course) every half-hour. I did get the chance to listen to 3 or 4 of the readings, which I did enjoy, two in particular. 
I did have a wonderful time. It was, however, very exhausting. My one regret was not having the time to socialize as much as I would have liked. As it was, I always had to know where I was going next to track down my next illusive signature. I did also, get to sit in on a couple of panels, where I was hoping to corner one or more of the participating authors, in order to coerce them to sign their books for me once the panel ended. Don't misunderstand me, I truly enjoyed the panels I sat in on. There were enough wonderful characters (both writers and fans) there to send a dedicated people-watcher directly to heaven. Cons (Conventions) are their own world. As I heard one fan say while waiting in line to register, "I love coming here and leaving everday reality behind." The fans are as interesting to observe as the writers themselves. And writers are a different breed of human. About as close to the average, everyday commuter, as a hunter in a tree, holding a rock,and waiting for the next brilliant idea to pop up. 
Anyroad, I am completely wiped-out ( I got home around 8:45 pm), and my back is killing me (those damn books are seriously heavy). The household chores, that I am always doing in such a timely manner (heavy sarcasm), are circling me like Indians (Native Americans) on the warpath circling a wagon train in the Old West (you'll have to check back to the 1800's for information on wagon trains, since we really don't travel that way anymore).
Eddie, meantime, is keeping a close eye on me. He starts screaming if I get anywhere close to the door. He wants to make sure I'm not going to sneak off  anywhere. Again. He's definitely going to make me pay for abandoning him yesterday. Ah, well. Life, at least for the moment, is very far from boring. 
Today's word to the wise? If you don't like the way something looks, change your point of view. Or, simply find something else to look at. 
Anybody good at giving back massages? I could really use one...

Help! I'm Drowning in Books!

Tomorrow morning, bright and early, I will be headed for ReaderCon just outside of Boston. I try to go every year, but of course, it depends on my schedule as well as my current state of being (referring to my health, mostly). Luckily, a friend of mine will be able to lead my Friday conversation group. Meanwhile, I will load as many books into my car as I believe I can signed during the course of the day, and head north. Then, I will proceed to run around like a madman trying to catch all the various authors of the books, using Readercon's program schedule as a guide. But that will be tomorrow.
I love going to Readercon, and one day I hope to actually spend an entire weekend there. Unfortunately, I cannot leave Eddie on his own overnight, and presently there's no convenient way to take him with me. Heck, there's no convenient way to even type this post with Eddie here. He's already interrupted me for three headrubs, and right now he's climbing up and down my arm like a crazy bird.
Anyroad, I gotta' put some breakfast together, after which I'll have to put myself together, and then head downtown. Hasta Luego/Zai Jian. See ya' later.

Finding the Oasis of Sleep In the Desert of the Night

Dreaming is an important factor in both the waking world (if you have no dreams to fulfill, life can be somewhat empty), and the nocturnal state of sleep (you may not remember your dreams, but our subconscious minds need the process of dreaming). Lacking dreams to live by, or the subconscious outlet of dreaming while our bodies sleep, can cause a lack of well-being and happiness. And of course, lack of sleep can cause anger, mental breakdown, poor judgement, clouded thinking, and, in a word, insanity. 
Now, I'm not saying that I am insane, but I do have a sleep problem that is related to my immune system disorder. Last night was my first decent night of sleep since Tuesday or Wednesday of last week. And yes, after a couple of bad nights of sleep, I get a bit fuzzy, and my ability to see reality in a clear and healthy way, well, it becomes impaired, to put it mildly. It's best during these periods, for me to lose myself in a book, or to let the television set entertain me as best it can. Needless to say, at these times, I do my best to stay home, and do as little as possible. That's generally not by choice. It's about all I'm capable of for the most part. 
Over the weekend, I managed to read a large, as well as largely entertaining book, watched some tv, both bad and good (bad tv has no redeeming qualities, and you usually can't remember what it was you watched), ate some simple meals that required no cooking, and gave Eddie many headrubs. 
Albert spent most of the weekend out and about. He doesn't like it when I spend all my time in the apartment. He claims the place starts to smell took much like a "human" cave. As opposed to a bear cave, I guess. 
Anyroad, I'm going to see if it's possible to accomplish anything of significance today. But I will cautiously attempt to not overdo it.
Insomnia is a huge problem for many people. I hope as you wander through the desert of your night, you are able to find that deep, cool well of blissful sleep. Have a wonderful dream or two while you're there. 

Free At Last!

Independence Day has come and gone. Regardless of how "less than perfect" this country may be, it still is the land of the free. At least for the moment, and hopefully for a long time to come. 
And for me? All is mostly well. Albert is catching up on some mostly spiteful semi-truths and propaganda by watching Fox "News" on tv (he really likes to start his day with some bear-like anger), Eddie is napping on my shoulder, and I am drinking a cup of Tazo Focus tea as I type this. Unfortunately, before I head for the Library to play talk-show host for my Friday conversation group, I must try to balance my checkbook as I eat breakfast. So maybe more later, depending on whatever surprises life throws at me as the day progresses. 
Remember, folks, the world could end at any moment on any day. Make sure you make every minute count. 
I'm sure I don't know what that means...Hasta Luego (Until Later)...

Happy Fourth of July

We are a nation of upstarts. And it all started with the Boston Tea Party, which has no connection to the much more recent appearance of the conservative Tea Party started by the Fox News network (don't let 'em kid ya', they started it) as a refuge for those out-of-touch-from-humanity morons to espouse their beliefs in the principles of greed, selfishness, and of course, every man's right to line his pockets (except for the poor and disadvantaged). Which includes corporations since they have been declared as having the same rights as a person. They don't seem to understand the difference between freedom, and being able to do anything you like regardless of how much it hurts others. Or, put another way, they confused about the difference between being able to drive a car, and the "ability" to run over whoever gets in their way.
But enough about the brain dead, and heartless.
The fourth of July is a remembrance of whence we came (where we came from). And as they say (I need to google who they are), you can't know where you're going, if you don't know where you came from. As a young country, we have come a long way. I think it's important that we keep moving in the right direction (forward) as we have been, even if it is slowly. Some would have us move backwards, which would benefit them, but would have a terribly destructive impact on this Country.
Anyroad, wherever you are in the world, I hope you have a reason to celebrate being alive for another day. Here in the state of Connecticut, in the USA, the sun has come out, and it definitely is a good looking day. It is a bit humid (quite humid, actually), so for those without air conditioning it might be somewhat uncomfortable. I did manage to get in a jog early in the morning, while it was still drizzling, and before I had to get Eddie up to prepare his castle (cage; but it's a big cage) for the day, and get him fresh food and water.
Albert, my bearish other roomate (he is a bear, actually), is sleeping at the moment. He has become quite nocturnal lately. He claims it's safer to do his wandering around under the cover of darkness. He's somewhat spoiled for a bear, I think. I do believe he really prefers to be inside in air conditioning on days like today. And they say it will get into the 90's today. That's in Fahrenheit, of course.
For me, I hope this will prove to be a low-key kind of day. I have a huge book (The Skylark; a limited edition of a novel by Peter Straub; the title of the trade edition is A Dark Matter) to read, and everything else  I could possibly need for the day. 
Well, a bag of peanut M&Ms would be nice. But I'll live.    

A Bear in Hand, is Far Less Trouble Than A Republican in the Bush

Albert has his problems, and he does create a few for me as well. It's not always easy living with a bear who comes and goes as he pleases. Not to mention the noise he sometimes make while sleeping under my bed. But all in all, he's not bad company, and his heart is in the right place. He's not trying to screw over his fellow bears, or any humans for that matter. And he's not destroying the environment and wiping out other living creatures, all for the sake of making a buck. Another big point in his favor, is that he doesn't twist and spin the truth into half-truths and lies, for his own purposes. I'm not sure he would even know how to not tell the truth.
Well, the same can't be said for certain Republican politicians and pundits, well represented by those low-life propaganda-spouting Fox News egg-suckers. And that's all I have to say about that. (For the moment, anyway). The sad part is, there are actually people out there who not only listen to them, but actually seem to believe their b---s---. Ok. Enough.
It's July 3rd, 2012, the day before July 4th. I have no big plans for tomorrow. In fact, if things go the way I want them to, Eddie and I will spend the day at home. I can't speak for Albert, who at this moment is asleep in his customary place. He woke me when came in early this morning as the sun came up. Unfortunately for me, I was unable to fall back asleep due to his snoring, which is quite loud, even for a bear I think. 'Course, I really couldn't say for sure, since I haven't spent much time around sleeping bears, other than Albert. In fact, Albert is the only bear I've ever spent any time around at all.
Anyroad (you may substitute anyway, or anyhow, if you like), I made use of the early morning awakening, and went jogging. It was a very nice morning to be out and about. But it was an even nicer morning once I climbed into the shower, and then had a cup of tea. Absolutely wonderful.
And so, to prepare for what I hope to be a relaxing holiday, I must take care of few not particularly pleasant tasks, such as doing my laundry, and going to the supermarket. Into every life, some chores must fall. Often, on a daily basis. 
I hope you all are doing well in the continuing struggle of living, and I do hope you have at least one someone  to share those struggles with. A man I know, who runs a publishing company in the UK, always ends his emails with Take Care of Each Other. Not a bad sign off.

In My Dreams, Romance is a Dark and Stormy Night

Love stories are universal. It seems, however, that there are some cultural differences. In conversations I have had with many of my Asian friends, as well as what little I know of Chinese love stories in literature and movies, it would seem that most traditional Chinese love stories are sad, and tragic tales. In other words, there aren't a lot of happy endings. And yes, there are American love stories that don't end well. Look at the movie, Love Story, for instance. But in general, we Americans really do prefer a love story with a wonderfully happy ending. In real life, however, I don't think this happens very often. But I do hope it happens more often than my experience would suggest.
When I was young, well, much younger than I am now, I had a close relationship with a young woman of my own age. We had a very close connection. One that ran deep. And one that at that time I not only didn't fully understand, but I also did not fully appreciate. Being young and very foolish, after a few years had passed, I grew fearful, and broke it off. I'm not sure even now of exactly what I was afraid of, although part of it was not feeling worthy of the love of this beautiful soul, and possibly being a little intimidated by her love. She was a wiser person than I in many ways, particularly I think, in the true meaning of love. And so, in a somewhat typical male response to the fear of being trapped, I ran off. And I have regretted it ever since.
I did try to contact her a couple of times in the next couple of years, and I did manage to talk to her briefly once. But I had caused her too much pain, and she did not want to see or talk to me. Many years later, I convinced my brother Jeff, who had mastered the internet long before I even owned a computer, to try find her for me. Using his internet tracking sources, he claimed she had been married, had two children, divorced, and moved to Canada, where the trail went cold (he couldn't track her any further). Jeff, however, had thought it was a really bad idea to try to hunt her down after such a long time. I always suspected he had simply made up everything he told me in order to satisfy my need to try to find her. It would have been his way of trying to protect me from what he believed could only end badly. 
During the course of my conscious day to day life, I do not think of my lost young lover of long ago very often. But my subconscious never lets me forget her for very long. Over the course of these many years, from time to time, I will have a quite haunting, and by now somewhat familiar, dream about her. In the dream, I am either talking to her in person, or on the phone. Or, I am talking to someone else in an attempt to find out where she is. In last night's dream, I was talking to my cousin Jim (who actually, at this moment, is somewhere out West). In any case, in all the dreams, whether I am supposed to meet her later, or just trying to find the address of where I have been told she is, I can not get there, and it becomes a desperate hunt. And of course, I have no way to get in touch with her. That is always how the dream ends. I cannot describe the feeling of utter melancholy that envelopes me, upon awaking. 
So, I find that a part of my life has become a tragic love story. And I will always wonder, what would have been, if I had not let fear drive me off. I will never know...