This year I started getting into some gardening. Sounds weird to say it, but, what can I tell you? Liz and I have a balcony with a nice view, so a few plants seemed like a nice idea. And much to my surprise, I’ve enjoyed it. I water the plants every few days, trim the dead leaves, freshen the soil. I’m not saying I’ve earned my green thumb or anything, but it’s been a lot more enjoyable than I ever thought it would.

Up until about a weeks ago, my outdoor plants were still doing well. The reThis year I started getting into some gardening. Sounds weird to say it, but, what can I tell you? Liz and I have a balcony with a nice view, so a few plants seemed like a nice idea. And much to my surprise, I’ve enjoyed it. I water the plants every few days, trim the dead leaves, freshen the soil. I’m not saying I’ve earned my green thumb or anything, but it’s been a lot more enjoyable than I ever thought it would.

Up until about a weeks ago, my outdoor plants were still doing well. The red flowers were still in bloom, the tropical plant still had life to it. Just a little water here and there–the rains did them both good–and they were still thriving.

And this friggin artic blast came in out of nowhere-blamo–and my plants are dead, or on life support! Just one stinking week in the freezing cold all but wiped them out. I know, I know, I should have brought them in sooner, but a) it was so cold I didn’t want go out there, and b) I forgot.

So the tropic plant is dead (sorry, dude), and the other one (with the red petals) I’ve brought inside, hoping to resuscitate it. I clipped most of the dead buds (there were many), gave it plenty of water, picked out the dead, crunch leaves, and placed it on the windowsill.

Will it survive? Time will tell. But this arctic blast really did them in.

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Just when I thought I’d hit my last comic book show of the year … (ah, you know the rest).

This Sunday past I had plans to visit my dad in the hospital–recovering from hip surgery–and so was already planning a trip into Manhattan. And then old friend Kevin shot me a note that he was planning to hit the Big Apple Con, so I figured I’d swing on by as well.

Turns out I was only there for an hour, but it was an hour well spent.

Unlike some of the bigger shows, the Big Apple ConJust when I thought I’d hit my last comic book show of the year … (ah, you know the rest).

This Sunday past I had plans to visit my dad in the hospital–recovering from hip surgery–and so was already planning a trip into Manhattan. And then old friend Kevin shot me a note that he was planning to hit the Big Apple Con, so I figured I’d swing on by as well.

Turns out I was only there for an hour, but it was an hour well spent.

Unlike some of the bigger shows, the Big Apple Con is still just an old fashioned comic book show, for comic book fans, who read comic books. Sure they had a few guests–Peter Mayhew (Chewbacca; Star Wars) and George Lazenby (James Bond; On Her Majesty’s Secret Service)–but mostly this was a place to buy comics, look at comics and not be overwhelmed by the crowds.

And also unlike the bigger shows, I wasn’t "working" this one. I wasn’t pumping [i]Finders Keepers[/i], I was just a fan, looking at comics, and digging through the discount bins for deals. It was just for fun. And I’m glad I went. Because as much as I’m out there pumping [i]Finders Keepers[/i] normally, I also need to let the steam out of my head once in a while. I need to just relax, and enjoy. Not that promoting my work isn’t for me, but it’s work. It’s effort. And sometimes I don’t want to be a marketing machine. I just want to be a guy, who likes comics, enjoying comics for what they were always meant for: Fun.

If you’re anything like me, you make use of the snooze button. I actually try not to, as the best way to get up with energy is to do just that. Get up. We’re supposed get up, shake out the grogginess, and jump into the morning.

It actually works. On the mornings I can do it.

But more often than not–at least lately–I’ve been hitting the ol’ snooze button. Sometimes I hit it a second time, sometimes even a third. And then once in a while I’ll even reach over for snooze number four (If you’re anything like me, you make use of the snooze button. I actually try not to, as the best way to get up with energy is to do just that. Get up. We’re supposed get up, shake out the grogginess, and jump into the morning.

It actually works. On the mornings I can do it.

But more often than not–at least lately–I’ve been hitting the ol’ snooze button. Sometimes I hit it a second time, sometimes even a third. And then once in a while I’ll even reach over for snooze number four (I know, that’s kinda bad; but what can I tell you?)

Yesterday morning was just a two-snoozer, which got me out of bed at 4:38 am. I made my way into the shower, threw on my shorts and t-shirt, and went inside to work on my book. Things were moving along when Liz poked her head in around 5:30 or so, looking as groggy as can be. Turns out, I actually didn’t turn my alarm off. Thinking I hit the "off" button, I actually hit "snooze" again, so my radio was going off every nine minutes, which pretty much wrecked Liz’s morning.

D’oh!

Well, going forward I’ll be putting a little extra focus to make sure I hit the right button, because if the universe has the sense of humor that I think it does, I have a feeling I’ll be on the receiving end of a missed snooze button before I know it …

Continuning the peculiar streak of hospital visits year among my family, my dad just came home from the hospital yesterday.

Not too tragic this time. He underwent a hip replacement on the creaky right hip that’s been bugging him for the last year. Surgery went well, and he’s already getting out of bed, doing some walking around. He’ll be sidelined for about 6 weeks–no driving–so imagine he’ll go a little bonkers around the house by the end of the run. Can’t say I blame him. I love being oContinuning the peculiar streak of hospital visits year among my family, my dad just came home from the hospital yesterday.

Not too tragic this time. He underwent a hip replacement on the creaky right hip that’s been bugging him for the last year. Surgery went well, and he’s already getting out of bed, doing some walking around. He’ll be sidelined for about 6 weeks–no driving–so imagine he’ll go a little bonkers around the house by the end of the run. Can’t say I blame him. I love being off work, but I hate being a patient. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and all that jazz.

Still, all things considered, my dad’s doing fine, and hopefully his recovery will be swift and without complication. I’ll be heading out to the house this weekend for a visit.

Now what I’m hoping is that this is the end of the line. No more hospitals, no more dead pets, no more agata above and beyond the normal grief that comes from just getting out of bed in the morning and wandering out into the world. I need a break from the madness. 2008 has certainly had it’s high points, but the stress has been off the charts this year. It’s been one heckuva challenge.

And yet I’m still here, the family still plugging along, looking forward to the future. It’s a little early for any 2009 predictions, but I’m putting my request in early. I’m thinking that to balance the scales of the universe, 2009 at the very least should be quiet and peaceful, and at most, be totally friggin sweet.

So if anybody up there is listening, keep an eye out for my gang next year. We got banged around pretty good in ’08. And we’ll take the hits.

But now it’s time for the good stuff. And lots of it.

I’m really deep now into [i]Crossline[/i]–my second novel–and I’m coming to the end of a really section. There’s been lots of action, and lots of humor, but now it’s time for some "big" moments.

One of the storytelling issues I’m often faced with is the classic show versus tell. At the point I’m at now, two characters are having a standoff. The struggle I’m facing is that this scene isn’t necessarily critical to the plot, but it is to the philosophy of the novel. I’ve got these I’m really deep now into [i]Crossline[/i]–my second novel–and I’m coming to the end of a really section. There’s been lots of action, and lots of humor, but now it’s time for some "big" moments.

One of the storytelling issues I’m often faced with is the classic show versus tell. At the point I’m at now, two characters are having a standoff. The struggle I’m facing is that this scene isn’t necessarily critical to the plot, but it is to the philosophy of the novel. I’ve got these characters arguing about why they believe what they believe, and why they’re point of view is better than the other’s.

There very well may be a better way to demonstrate this than through a lot of dialogue, but I’m not sure how to do it. So as I do, I have my characters talk. A lot. Eventually, I trim down the dialogue, but it’s sometimes tough to know if I’ve cut down too much, or not enough. Is the impact of the scene there? Does is pack a wallop? Or have I just gone on and on and on and on …?

I’ll get this sorted out, I’m not too worried about it. But the struggle is in trying to determine what’s best, because if I go one way, the story takes on a certain feel, and if I go another way, the story takes on a different feel. Which is better? Which helps tell the most satisfying story? Is one way better than the other, or are they just different?

In the grand scheme of things, it’s not really such a terrible problem to negotiate, although it’s one I’m sure I’ll revisit again and again. It’s also one area of my own storytelling abilities I’m hoping to improve upon as the years go on, learning how to get the maximum power out of scene with the fewest amount of words.

Until then, I guess I’ll just have to have my characters duke it out verbally in these long speeches, leaving a big, bloody mess for us to enjoy. Like in my own life, figuring out when I’ve talked too much–or not enough–is always the trick.

Post edited by: rcolchamiro, at: 2008/11/12 06:38

Early this morning the court clerk was addressing us potential jurors, giving us the lowdown on how the day would go. As part of his shtick–he was pretty funny, too–was that, if anybody expected to be done with jury duty in one day, we had about the same chance as winning the megamillions. Could happen, but don’t hold your breath.

Welll … jackpot!

After I got booted out of the first juror group, I got sent back to the main juror pool, and waited for round two. When 4 o’clock tickedEarly this morning the court clerk was addressing us potential jurors, giving us the lowdown on how the day would go. As part of his shtick–he was pretty funny, too–was that, if anybody expected to be done with jury duty in one day, we had about the same chance as winning the megamillions. Could happen, but don’t hold your breath.

Welll … jackpot!

After I got booted out of the first juror group, I got sent back to the main juror pool, and waited for round two. When 4 o’clock ticked along I figured, great, guess I’m coming back on Wed. (Tuesday is Veteran’s Day, so the court is closed), and try again.

But then then clerk read of this marvelous list. It was a list of all the potential jurors who were officially excused, officially fulfilled their obligations, and were therefore off the hook for another six years. Naturally I figured my name couldn’t possibly come up.

And yet it did.

Don’t know how or why, but they kicked my butt out after just one day. Done and dusted, as they say across the pond.

Jury Duty 2008. I hardly knew ya …

It’s about 3:30 pm on Monday and I’m in the main juror room at the Civil Courhouse in Jamaica, Queens (pretty cool that they have free Internet accesss, but it logs you out after 10 minutes, so that’s a drag …).

Around 11 am this morning my name got called for a car-accident case in civil court. Along with 20 other potential jurors, I went up into the small jury room, and the lawyers on each side of the case started asking their questions.

Out of the first 6 potential jurors, the lawIt’s about 3:30 pm on Monday and I’m in the main juror room at the Civil Courhouse in Jamaica, Queens (pretty cool that they have free Internet accesss, but it logs you out after 10 minutes, so that’s a drag …).

Around 11 am this morning my name got called for a car-accident case in civil court. Along with 20 other potential jurors, I went up into the small jury room, and the lawyers on each side of the case started asking their questions.

Out of the first 6 potential jurors, the lawyers selected three, and dismissed the other three. Right before lunch they picked another six potential jurors. I was one of the six. After a lunch break they questioned this group, including me, and the consensus in the room was that I would be selected as a juror.

Nope!

I was rejected and tossed back into the main jury room, so here I am, waiting again to see if I’ll get called for yet another jury.

Don’t know why I was dismissed–although I have a few ideas–but it just goes to show that just because you stand up in a jury room and start screaming that all lawyers are scum, it doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll be selected as a juror …

Just kidding. I didn’t say [i]all[/i] lawyers are scum. (only some … okay, just kidding again). Anyway, now I see what new jury fate awaits me …

Earlier this year I finally got nailed for Jury Duty. I was just starting a new job at the time, so jury duty was a particular inconvenience, and I was able to talk myself into a postponement.

Well, postponement’s over.

Starting Monday I report to the Queens Civil Court, so who knows what kind of trial I’ll wind up on, if I even get selected at all. I’ve served before, although no murder trials this time. With Civil Court, it’s usually a less dynamic affair. Here’s what the New York CEarlier this year I finally got nailed for Jury Duty. I was just starting a new job at the time, so jury duty was a particular inconvenience, and I was able to talk myself into a postponement.

Well, postponement’s over.

Starting Monday I report to the Queens Civil Court, so who knows what kind of trial I’ll wind up on, if I even get selected at all. I’ve served before, although no murder trials this time. With Civil Court, it’s usually a less dynamic affair. Here’s what the New York City Civil Court System has to say about it:

The Civil Court of the City of New York has jurisdiction over civil cases involving amounts up to $25,000 and other civil matters referred to it by the Supreme Court. It includes a small claims part for informal dispositions of matters not exceeding $5,000 and a housing part for landlord-tenant matters of unlimited amounts and housing code violations.

So, somebody will be suing somebody for something.

I think serving on Jury Duty is important, because we’re all part of the system, part of the community, and if a time ever comes when I need a jury paying attention for a trial I’m a part of, it’s only reasonable that I take the jury process seriously, too, when it’s my time as a juror.

Will I get an interesting case? Hope so. But either way, it’s just my time to do my small part, and hope that at least a little justice is served … Russman style!

Because I’ve been walking the dog a lot lately, I’ve spent more time than usual wandering the neighborhood, and I’ve really been getting a kick out of the leaves.

Before moving to Queens, I spent 10 years combined in Brooklyn and Manhattan, and the neighborhoods I lived in weren’t nearly as tree-lined as the one I live in now. And maybe I’m just noticing it more or maybe it’s just this Fall in particular, but there has been an abundance of those brown, crunch leaves on the grass and street,Because I’ve been walking the dog a lot lately, I’ve spent more time than usual wandering the neighborhood, and I’ve really been getting a kick out of the leaves.

Before moving to Queens, I spent 10 years combined in Brooklyn and Manhattan, and the neighborhoods I lived in weren’t nearly as tree-lined as the one I live in now. And maybe I’m just noticing it more or maybe it’s just this Fall in particular, but there has been an abundance of those brown, crunch leaves on the grass and street, those scattering of leaves that reminds me of being a kid, stomping through leaf piles.

I’m usually not all that nostalgic–I tend to look foward, rather than back–but there’s been some kind of magic in the air this year for me in regard to the leaves. Just this reminder that something as simple as fallen leaves, as the sound of the crunch beneath my feet, can bring such joy, no matter what else is going on. Maybe it’s just one of those "stop and smell the roses" moments for me, but it’s been a smile nonetheless.

There’s a lot more I could say about this, and maybe one day I will, but for now, it’s enough for me just to remember that the joys in life can come from anywhere, and that a pile of brown crunchy leaves is worth more to me than I can put a price on. It’s the moments I can’t buy that are worth more than the ones I can.

I slept a little later this morning because I was up past 11 last night (pretty late for me), to watch the election results. I made it long enough to see Barack Obama be declared President, and off to bed I went. So when my alarm went off this morning I hit snooze four or five times, because, well, I was tired. But then I hear my cell phone chime away, with the text message song, and I just knew who it was.

My sister texted me at 5 am with an [i]Obama! Woo Hoo![/i] message, and indeed it’s I slept a little later this morning because I was up past 11 last night (pretty late for me), to watch the election results. I made it long enough to see Barack Obama be declared President, and off to bed I went. So when my alarm went off this morning I hit snooze four or five times, because, well, I was tired. But then I hear my cell phone chime away, with the text message song, and I just knew who it was.

My sister texted me at 5 am with an [i]Obama! Woo Hoo![/i] message, and indeed it’s been quite a ride. In my lifetime there’s never been an election with so much passion, so much participation. As time goes by and we have the chance to look back I think we’ll better see what this election meant to us as a country, because it’s always so tough to have perspective when you’re in the middle of it.

And so Obama is President.

There’s so much that could be said about it, but I’m suddenly struck by a scene from [i]Bull Durham,[/i] one of my favorite movies. In the scene, young pitcher Nuke Laloosh (Tim Robbins) just struck out the side (or else had an easy inning, I can’t remember), and he’s in the dugout with veteran catcher Crash Davis (Kevin Costner). Nuke comes to the dugout, all smiles, so proud of himself. Just a peacock strutting himself. And Crash Davis slaps him down immediately.

"Your fastball’s up. Your curveball’s hanging. In the Show (the major leagues), they would’ve ripped you."

Dejected and sulking, Nuke says, "Can’t you just let me enjoy the moment?"

And Crash says: "Moment’s over."

Barack Obama will be our next president. I’m happy about that. I voted for him. But now he’s going to have do a job that will be unlike anything we’ve seen in our lifetimes. It will be difficult. We are in rough waters.

Obama’s moment might not be over yet, but it’s coming soon. Up to this point, all we know is that Obama can run a very good campaign. But the bigger, more important question is: will he turn out to be a good president? Can he peform at the highest level in the highest office? For the good of us all, I hope so.

Now we’ll have to find out.