Romancing San Francisco End Chapters: The Surprise

The Surprise

Many things had happened to me in San Francisco, and now I got a letter in the mail saying I had to either be drafted in/or out of, California, or go back home to Minnesota and be drafted, and so I chose to make my freedom last a while longer by telling the draft board, I was on course for home. Realizing it was July, l969, and Id leave in the middle to last part of August and most likely once home take a few months to go see whomever I had to, or wait for my letter from the draft board. I didnt mind, it wasnt the end of the world, just the end coming to my voyage here in San Francisco, and to be quite fair with the whole deal I told myself it was time. The Manager at Lilli Ann was not told the truth, or for that matter no one but Goesi knew in San Francisco I was being drafted into the Army. Im sure the black belts felt a whole lot more secure after I would leave. As always, Goesi was as gracious as the day is long. A little sad I believe, and di sappointed things did not work out as he thought they would. But then, life does not always work that way; and that he knew.

It was the 25th of July and I was to go home on the last week of August, around the 21st. I walked into Sammies, everyone smiled, took a straight posture, not much different from what I was used to. I hadnt even told the folks at the bar what my plans had entailed.

The old couple came over and sat by me, as I ordered a beer and got a sandwich and come chili.

Chick, said the old man, and his wife by his side, not sure if to look or not.

Yaw, whats up?

He said as a father telling his son:

We all really like you here, and bringing your mother was quite the surprise. We all want to thank you that you would think of us in such a manner.

Oh, but I do, you are my family away from home, that is you and Goesi. He smiled as if he really did not want to go any further with this. I didnt look around to see any fac es, thinking it was something he had on his mind, more or less, you know -personal.

Yaw, is there something else, I asked.

You could say that. Let me explain. You kind of know a few people here, and everyone knows you. Matter of fact, every time you come in, Ted and Joe, kind of signal everyone. I looked a bit bewildered, what was he implying.

Go on, I said with my eyebrows us.

Chick, were all gay here! I couldnt swallow, now I looked around, Everyone?

Yes, everyone.

But what about you and your wife, youre not gay?

Oh yes we are, you might say bi-sexualthough

What is that, I asked.

Chick listen ----that is when people have certain preferences for both sex, but may like the company of their spouse and are willing to share her or him.

Boy of boy, I dont know what to say, but everyone looks

Chick, they look non-active because of you. They like you so much they stop everything, every-time you come; --they p lay a role I suppose one can say, for you. But we got thinking it wasnt right to continue with it.

Oh, yaw, I suppose, I said not knowing what to say. But you know I still like everyone here. I really like you and your wife. You know Id never let anyone hurt you.

Chick, you got to do what you got, and if you want to come to the bar, wed love to have you here, and no one is going to bother you, but if you cant well understand, but we will not be playing anymore games with you.

I got drafted, I got to go home in a few weeks, but you know, maybe if I had a lot of time left I could adjust, but Im sorry I just cant at the moment. II, Im not sure what to say, but I feel embarrassed that everyone had to go out of their way for me, how very kind. Yet I cant come back, you know that.

I figured as much, said Mr. Palace, --then Mrs. Places added but I want to write you, keep in contact for as long as youd like. I know with going in the Army, you might head on to Vietnam, and it would be nice to keep track of you.

I got to leave, I didnt turn around, not sure why, but I was happy. I would receive letters every Christmas for the next five years from the old couple.

A Big Event

It was August 20th, l969, I bought a ticket on a bus to go to Southern California to visit my brother, and he and I were going back to Minnesota, together. And as I got ready, I got thinking about all the things that happened, especially this past year or so. Just a few days ago in some place in New York called Woodstock some 400,000-kids had an anti-war gathering of some kind; they called it a festival of sorts. I never heard of such a gathering before. Ive seen pictures on the T.V. and it was raining and people were smoking and pissing and there were traffic jams, and a lack of food and water.

Some of the groups that were playing there were the Grateful Dead, whom I heard about, but never paid much heed to, and Jimi Hendrix , he fell into the same category, the only one I knew, and thought could sing halfway decent was Janis Joplin, and she looked more like the gals in San Francisco than in New York, but I guess folks said she was from around here.

When I met my brother in Montclair, we took a quick trip down to Mexico, and then headed back to good old St. Paul. It wasnt long before they got me into the Army, October, l969. Mike my brother went out to the induction center in Minneapolis with me. I guess the way I seen things was, I was about to have another adventure, and the Army was just as good as any place matter of fact, free transportation all the way.

Afterward

San Francisco in those days was where it was happening. Where the music seem to seep out of, or from and penetrate the rest of the United States. I was many things in San Francisco, and if it taught me anything it taught me I could become, chase a dream, and by accident, things do happen. By being there, being available, things do happen, just someone liking you for whom you were, could open doors, as long as your door was open. If all I had done was meet Goesi, my main objective would have been achieved, and so everything else was a plus. Oh yes, there were hardships I am not bringing out, but what for, it is not the crust of bread or the topping of a cake we are looking at, notwithstanding, but rather, the nice ending we all want, and it did end up that way. Yes I did go to Vietnam, but that is another story. Incidentally, I was told I was given orders to go to Augsburg, Germany, I wonder how it will be there. If you really want to know, read the book, A Romance in Augsburg.

End to the story and sketches of, Romancing San Francisco

See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com

Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: Chapters
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The Wild Man and Wild Woman of Canadian First Nations Art

Two of the more interesting characters from the Northwest Coast Canadian First Nations Art world include the Wild Man and the Wild WoMan of the woods. These two are often portrayed in very dramatic looking Masks carved by Northwest Coast Canadian First Nations Artists.

The Wild Man of the woods from Canadian First Nations Art is called Bakwas and is a small huMan-like creature who lives in the forest. He has deep round eyes that are sunken into his sockets and brows that jut out forward. His cheeks are hollow, his mouth is often grimacing and his nose appears like a hooked beak. It is said that the Wild Man can sometimes be seen early in the morning on the beach collecting cockles which are a type of mollusk as his food. The Wild Man is also considered the chief of ghosts and spirits of peopl e who drowned are often hovering near him. HuMans must beware of the Wild Man tempting others to join him for a meal. If one eats some of the Wild Mans food, one will turn into a being just like him.

In contrast to the Wild Man, the Wild WoMan of the woods or Dzunukwa as she is known, is a giant powerful and fearsome figure twice the size of huMans. From Northwest Coast Canadian First Nations Art and legend, she is a dark and hairy ogress with supernatural powers. Her almost blind eyes are also large and sunken like those of the Wild Man but sometimes they have a red glow. She is usually portrayed making her Wild call (Uh, huu, uu, uu) with her open mouth and thick red puckered lips. It is said that if children foolishly wander into the forest, the Wild WoMan will capture them and eat them. The Wild WoMan carries a basket on her back which contains the children that she caught.

Fortunately, she is not considered very bright and usually the children are abl e to outsmArt her in escaping. Interestingly enough, even though the Wild WoMan represents the dark and dangerous side of the forests, she is also a bringer of wealth for some Northwest Coast Canadian First Nations tribes. A Wild WoMan mask can be considered somewhat of a status symbol that only some powerful and rich Northwest Coast Canadian First Nations families have.

Clint Leung is owner of Free Spirit Gallery http://www.FreeSpiritGallery.ca, an online gallery specializing in Inuit Eskimo and Northwest Native American Art including carvings, sculpture and prints. Free Spirit Gallery has numerous information resource Articles with photos of authentic Inuit and Native Indian Art as well as free eCards.

Author:: Clint Leung
Keywords:: Canadian, first nations, Art, Northwest, Coast, Wild, Man, woMan, Masks, Artists
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The Barnum Museum One of the Great New England Museums

Phineas Taylor Barnum was arguably the greatest showman of all time. He had a knack for finding and exhibiting unusual people, animals and a range of oddities, some of them hoaxes, such as the Feejee Mermaid.

While the Barnum & Bailey Circus continues as a living testament to his talent for promotion, he was also a politician and journalist and enormously influential both here in the U.S. and in Europe during the 19th century. He could tomanipulate the press in ways that render today's spin doctors inept hacks.

P.T. Barnum, as he was best known, was born in Bethel, Connecticut on July 5, 1810. After his father's death in 1826, rural life faded as his ideal, and he was drawn to the city lights of Brooklyn, New York, where he worked for a short time as a store clerk.

His own fascination with curiosities, strange and bizarre, convinced him that his contemporaries of the era would be likewise captivated, so he set out to make collecting and displaying peculiarities his career. His reading of the sentiments of the times was right on, and people gathered in large numbers at the various venues he built, in particular, the American Museum in New York.

The first of his endeavors involved Joice Heth, whom he billed as The Greatest Natural & National Curiosity in the World.

Telling those interested that the story-telling, African American woman was 161 years old, he convinced his audiences that, as a slave, she had tende d to a young George Washington.

When a prominent physician pared back her true age to 80 after her autopsy, Barnum insisted that her body was a fake and that she was still performing elsewhere.

In 1841, Barnum founded and built the American Museum in the heart of Old New York City. It comprised an eclectic blend of sensational and gaudy attractions, including Tom Thumb and the Feejee Mermaid, natural history with exhibits displaying taxidermy and menageries, and art, wax figures and a Lecture Room and theatre in which Shakespeare was performed.

To many historians and social scientists, the American Museum was the bedrock of New York's urban evolution.

Remarkably perceptive of the changing demographics of the city and the confluence of different cultures, Barnum adjusted the exhibits, shows and educational materials to accommodate different cultures and tastes as well as each strata of the social classes of the times. There was literally something for everyone.

The public response was almost as varied as the museum's diversity. Some loved the museum/theatre and some were appalled by it.

The flames of that outrage were fanned by Barnum's support of temperance, and on July 13, 1865, the American Museum was burned to the ground. It has never been determined who set the fire. He subsequently built a new museum further uptown, which also burned down.

He is perhaps best known, however, for two special finds: Tom Thumb and Jenny Lind.

It was in 1842 that he discovered Charles Sherwood Stratton, whom he dubbed Tom Thumb, a man who stood only 25 inches tall and weighed a mere 15 pounds at age 11.

Barnum invested two years in training Tom to sing, dance and mime, then embarked on a world tour with his tiny friend who performed for fascinated domestic and European audiences, including royalty and Abraham Lincoln. Tom Thumb became a must see in the American Museum.

Jenny Lind, whom Barnum called The Swedish Nightingale was a musical prodigy. She could play the piano at age four and developed an extraordinary singing voice, which she amply demonstrated to the influential and political, including President Millard Fillmore, General Winfield Scott, Henry Clay, Daniel Webster, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Washington Irving and others.

The Barnum & Bailey Circus, which he dubbed The greatest show on earth is his most enduring legacy.

Mixing politics with his passion for the bizarre enabled Barnum to serve a one-year term as mayor of Bridgeport, Connecticut, and he served two terms in the Co nnecticut legislature.

The Barnum Museum is an excellent chronicle of the life and times of Phineas Taylor Barnum and very much worth a visit.

Jim Hyde, an author, award-winning writer and syndicated columnist, is editor and co-owner with his wife, Terry, of a top-ranked New England Website, NewEnglandTimes.Com, which covers travel, tourism, real estate and lifestyles. For more information about this Great New England museum, as well as articles on other New England museums go to http://www.newenglandtimes.com/

Author:: James Hyde
Keywords:: Barnum,P.T. Barnum,the American Museum,New England,great NewEngland museums,Tom Thumb,Jenny Lind
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"The Big Maybe" and "God Said" and "Birds Applles and Kisses": Poems

The Big Maybe

The best word Ive ever heard

wasmaybe! Maybe: is what man really lives

by. A yes, beforehand, is seldom

known A maybe, is a story untold.

Thus, I cannot say yes, then.

And to be quite frank I dont have enough of them

left, to waste: So the best I can do, is:

Give you a big maybe!

#842 9/2005

God says: Retribution?

And God said:
I will give them foreknowledge.

(And He did.)
And the power to slay

(And He did.)
(And God created earth, the way
He would have liked it, if He was a man)
And God said:
He kills all the game; he pollutes
the woods, rivers: ravages the
meadows and ruins the skies

(with no crime or guilt).
And then man sees its outcome,
And blames God for not looking out
Of his porthole in the sky:
and fixing it.
And God says:
So be it.

#843 9/2005

Birds, Apples and Kisses

Whos the dedicatee of my new amusing
Poem? Newly polished with coarse?
You, my reader; for you feel my stanzas:
lines possess some substance.
Yes oh yesthe lone American!
That great multistanza poem of ages
So take this poem, this mere drop,
whatever it may be worthand
Patron reader let it survive at least
An hour, a day, a week!

Ah! the birds: how I wish I could
sport with them, as they do with one
Anotherthey are as welcome to me
as fresh red apples are to the tree
that gave them birthnow fallen;
free to the ground, like the birds;
so very long, knotted to a branch, and
the branch to the torso of the tree.

There are the wicked dead! the rotten
Apples. Ah yes! The wicked birds
Pickers, picking out eyelids: now sore
and swollen, red like applesweeping red.
Black-marrow in its core: only hell can
devour these apples: Hell with its evil.

Leaf-mended trees, touched by Hell
they whisper softy in to the foliage for help.
Whose apex are we? they cry.
Beckoned to the breeze, but followed
By Hells windits always that way.
Unending evil mixed with God-sent,
Kisses. I lost count long ago of the good
and rotten apples on my apple tree,
Satan farting on: some: protagonist
Jest demonic beings running wild.

Give me a thousand kisses I pray.
Or a hundred may do; I can shuffle the
Figures: lose count again: fact is,
Id like to know how many kisses I need,
to bring the birds back. A curious figure
indeed; perhaps, equal to all those stars
in the silent night. Once the evil tongue
(full of mischief) comes, arrives: the tree
of life: the apples need the sky to rain
with kisses on its leafy faceconceivably
its all too late. Perhaps Im fortunate, surely
happier than nature?

#841 9/2005

see Dennis' books at http://www.lapidarayart.com or http://www.bn.com

Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: Poetry
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Oil Painting Supplies Guide For Beginners

When I first began painting some 10 years ago, I remember my first trip to my local art supply store. I recall my feeling of utter confusion as I perused the aisles. This particular art store had every tube of paint, brush, medium and canvas known to man, far too many choices for a confused beginner. After several moments, a sales person came by and began to assist me in finding the supplies I needed. To make a long story short, I left the store 30 minutes later with a box full supplies, half of which I had absolutely no idea what to do with. I wish I knew then what I know now. I could have saved myself a lot of money.

When you are first starting out in oil painting, you shouldn't go overboard on supplies. It's best to start with the basics. When you become more experienced, you can then try out different supplies until you find the items you are most comfortable working with.

Oil Painting Brushes - Brushes come in various sizes and shapes from flats to brights to rounds. They are also available at various prices. Brushes are something you should definitely spend a bit extra on and shoot for quality. You don't want cheap brushes. Cheap brushes are a huge headache mainly because they shed hair and lose their shape quicker than quality brushes. The types of brushes you purchase really depend on the type of painting you plan on doing: landscapes, portraits, impasto work, etc., all call for certain types of brushes. You will only learn this over time as you become more experienced and develop your own style. For starters, I would purchase a few flats of various sizes, a few small rounds for detailed work and a fan for blending. Make sure to also purchase a good brush cleaner and preserver. I use the Marx Brush Care System for cleaning and preserving my brushes and it works great.

Oil Paints - Oil paint also varies in price and quality. There are some very good paints on the market today. I prefer to work with Grumbacher Artist O ils, but Winsor & Newton oil paints are also quite popular. There are different grades of paint. There are student grade paints and professional grades. My own preference is to work with the professional grades, as the colors are more brilliant than student grade paints. I guess it's ok in the beginning to purchase a lesser quality for learning and experimentation. I guarantee once you try the professional grade paints, you will never go back to student grade. This is my opinion of course. Artist color choices vary. Some prefer a limited palette of only a few colors, while others prefer to have a variety of different colors at their disposal.

Here are the colors of my palette. You do not have to buy these exact colors, as this is only my preference that has developed over time.

Cadmium Yellow Light
Yellow Ochre
Cadmium Red Light
Cadmium Orange
Burnt Sienna
Raw Sienna
Burnt Umber
Alizarin Crimson
Sap Green
Thalo Blue
Ivory B lack
Titanium White

Oil Painting Mediums - Medium preference varies greatly from artist to artist. I think every artist has his or her own mixtures and formulas. I myself use linseed and poppy oil. Linseed oil has a tendency to yellow the colors so I do not mix it with my lighter color mixtures. For lighter color mixtures, I use poppy oil as it has less of a tendency to yellow. There are other mediums available. I recommend that you try your own mediums and recommendations from artists until you find something that produces the results you are after.

Canvas and Other Supports - The popular support that many artists work with is cotton canvas, but there are other supports available. Some other choices are linen canvas, boards and canvas paper for instance. You could also buy rolled canvas and stretch your own if desired. This again is something you have to experiment with until you find a support that works best with your style of painting. I recommend sta rting with a few smaller to medium sized canvases. I work with FREDRIX Red Label Stretched Cotton Canvas. Red Label is a medium textured quality canvas excellent for use with oils and a popular choice amongst oil painters.

Palette - Palettes are made from various materials including glass,wood, plastic, and even paper. My palette of choice is the BOB ROSS Clear Palette. This palette is wonderful. It's easy to clean, holds a lot of paint with adequate room to mix your colors. It's also priced quite reasonably.

Easels - Easels are also available in various sizes and price ranges. You will need a good stable easel to paint on; otherwise your canvas will wobble around when you paint. This can be quite frustrating. You also need to decide whether you will be painting primarily in your studio or if you are an outdoor painter. If you are painting outdoors you should consider purchasing a French easel. The JACK RICHESON Academy Verona Half French Easel is a good buy. If you work primarily in your studio, then you have a lot of easels to choose from. I personally use a STANRITE 500 Classic Aluminum Easel. It's an excellent easel that is both lightweight and sturdy. It sets up easily and can be folded for easy transport.

I truly hope this article has helped. Happy Painting and God Bless!

Ralph Serpe is Webmaster and Cofounder of Creative Spotlite: http://www.creativespotlite.com. Visit Creative Spotlite today for a great selection of Discount Art Supplies.

Author:: Ralph Serpe
Keywords:: oil painting supplies,discount art supplies,oil paint supply
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A Romance in Augsburg Chapters: 7 & 8: Love Making in the Black Forest

The Forest

As we drove farther into the outskirts of Augsburg, looking out placidly across the top of cars, houses, and at the dogs running about, I got thinking, thinking how I felt being with Chris, about Chris. It was like I was cast into a spell, an enchantment, or perhaps a curse; very seldom did I ever feel like this. Normally I would feel like this only if I was in the presence of a great person, like my karate instructor in San Francisco, Gosei Yamauchi, or his father The Cat Gogan, who was one of the few 10th degree black belts in the world. Normally Id be high the whole next day. With Chris I felt the same way I knew tomorrow Id be high all day, it was a natural high.

OnceI cant remember whenI had read something about the poet Emily Dickinson, she was something like a recluse, but she made a poem indicating nature was her high, and I always remember that. How true this can be, grabbing the moment and cherishing it, absorbing it as if there was no tomorrow, and at the same time absorbing nature: the sounds and the heart beat mother earth, and sky; others humans, and the dogs and birds, all such things that at that moment surround you; they are all somewhat magical. I was learning, how to be a listener if anything and it entailed all things within your presence.

Chris was fully alive now, as I turned my head towards her delectation her steering wheel facing me, at which made the moment a little more interesting, as she felt good about me checking her out; a weary kind of sense, not defeat, just a good profile look; I thought dimly in my mind as she drove mile after mile: how could she afford to look so prim and proper all the time. Do her hair in a unique style, not a hair out of place, so it seemed. I guess in our own way we are all unique, I heard that someone say that someplace, not sure where.

An hour and a half had passed on by and she was still driving, and it was getting dark. She pulled into a wo oded area; she said it was the outer rim of the Black Forest (otherwise known as the Eyebrow of the Woods), I think I heard of that forest in a fairytale book or at least that is where my mind said I got it from. An enchanting name, I must had said it my second self, that little person inside of all of us that we talk to: Black Forest, Black Forest!

So you see, said Chris here we are! She added her conclusive little smile to her face as she said that; as we entered the dark huge green forest, parking the car a little off to the side of a dirt road that lead into the deeper and more distant part of the forest, partly covered by trees and bushes now.

There was a chill in the air so I rolled up the window, as she turned on the radio for some music.

Very quickly and carefully she moved her thin reserved neck and shoulders into my area, she just starred at me, as if she was going to eat me up; as her left arm was lowered, it pulled out a bottle of Mosel-Saar-Ru wer wine, 1965 wine, -- I looked the bottle over 9.5% volume; I knew they had been making wine around this intriguing river and hilly area for close to 1700-years. It was good wine I had tasted it before, not sweat or dry, flowerily white wine to be exact.

Now, said Chris indignantly, but with the air of a certain point, lets see what we can do with this battle.

We started to drink and laugh.

Ah, yes, I said to her, you have a lovely profile. She smiled and threw her head back.

Well, I thought out loud this is a good way to pass the night away, and begin romantic indecencies-- she leaned over the center-divider of the bucket seats to kiss me. She opened her mouth, sunk her lips on mine, as she pulled her long legs to the under-part of the dash, she then started to unzip her zipper to her boots.

This, commented Chris passes everythingI never did it in a car before. She had drunk down 1/5 of the wine like a person drinking water.

Chick, said Chris, come over here.

I moved my body closer to hers. Everything seemed to be in the way. I could not back out of whatever was going to happen; and I knew what was in the makings.

She was starting to stretch her hands out: --her blouse went over her head, I just kept looking as she started to strip, I was growing, getting as hard as a pencil.

Oh, damn Chick, said Chris heartily as she touched my item. Just her saying that aroused me; then pulling off her bra, and her skirt up I seemed to become tranquilized somehow, my mind slipped to King Solomon, of all things, as he once defined the beauty of a womans body and how it was to measured for ones pleasure by enjoying it fully, and this was all I wanted to do nowenjoy it, and I think Chris was feeling the same way for even though we were both a bit on the tipsy side we were fully aware of our responses, I had lost complete focus of the uncomfortable situation, as she did

◊now that she was al most completely stripped only her panties on, she curled up in a fetus position holding her legs and leaning back, then opened up her legs slowly I thought what every on earth possessed her, yet who can predict women I told myself, and started to take off my cloths, quicklygetting out of this spill of sorts. I guess it is true, men like to observe, and women like to touch. I liked both. This was not dirty sex, this was pure sex, at its height, one might even say, it was like a painting; she painted the picture, she taught me how to enjoy what she had to offer.

Im going to get it all off in a minute, I said, it was difficult working in this cramped space she chuckled, Slowly please, I can waitshe softly said as she rested her head back and I caught my breath, that is what she wanted, that is, for me to calm down, yet remain hard and possessed with her offering: I think we both had multiorgasms

I feel fine now I said, adding, cramped but fine☺

Chris opened up her arms I couldnt back away after that, could I?

I told myself: I have a private room at the barracks. Then said it out loud to her:

Of course, -- next time said she, and we continued to make love for the third orgasm for me, for her, perhaps five or six.

We seemed to flop around the front seat finding the right positionshes looking at me eeeeeeeee, I told myself, Im cramped, nothing to grab a hold of, her head leaning against the glass of the window. Without a word we continued: --my body heavy onto hers, my heart beating two-hundred ticks a minute, we both were hot, enmeshed in the moment, a lustful, and burning moment; I wanted to open the door, but feared the light going on and someone would see us, plus the air was cool, too cool. I had no escape we met each others eyes as I penetrated her. She looked again deep into my eyes as she tried to catch her breath, to make sure I was still alive I think. It was seemingly unfair for me to put h er through this I thought, but the thought only lasted a half second, I found myself exploding as my heart dropped to my feet, and again, and again, I exploded and burned as if I had opened myself up to a volcano; I had learned at that moment, the difference between happiness and pressure: happiness was listening to her talk before, and then came her smile, now the pleasure, sex; I hurt, this had never happened before.

Nice evening, isnt it? I said as I started pulling her body closer to me.

I hope you are not offended I am taking the lead? said Chris.

Not at all, I said, adding, Ill catch up.

There are times, said Chris, when rules are made to be broken like now, them...mmm damn silly rules she pulled herself up a bit, I stopped believing in those rules this is one of those moments I want to rememberremember for a long time, even after I am dead.

As we tried to untwist our bodies, we caught ourselves laughing at our odd situation. We had made love, and became a little more sensitive with each othera little more possessive of each other, I guess that is the nature of things in a relationship, they are made to progress, or stop, one or the other, and it was never to take place again in the front seat of a Mustang I knew.

She laid her cheek against my hand.

Chick.

Yes?

You realize dont you, this cant end here?

Theres no reason for it to end, is there?

No.

She spoke some German words I didnt understand, German mingled with English I should say: then somehow, she went silentmaybe she was taking time to remember the moment, digesting it; I didnt know, nor did I want to try to guess, I just looked at her, her smile it seemed to promise something, grace; instinct was in it also, around her small enclosed eyes, as they opened and shut slowly they were weaving a web I do believe, It wont end here, I promise.

Pleasant and agreeable-like a well-cultured woman she was, maybe too much for me, she opened the door, and dressed quickly, then got back in.

Want a cigarette? I asked, sitting up straight.

No and neither do you. We are both restless it seems. Come over to me, she started kissing me.

As she released her lips from mine, she sat upright now, pulled out a cigarette, lit it and started blowing smoke rings into the air.

You know perfectly well, Im very much attracted to youyoouuuu right?

I hope so, I feel the some way.

Luckily the wine deadens the bruises (discoloration). I commented, she laughed and kind of stretched her back to put it back in placeMe to, she replied.

I wish all relationships could start like ours, it is like saying lets drop all the game playing and pretend we are on the fifth date, and cut the crap; I like you Chick, I like you very much

The bruises will show up tomorrow, I told Chris.

Kind of saying maybe we should go, but neither one of us seemed to be all that bothered w ith that so we simply started kissing again after her cigarette brakeit was a long and needed pause for me, for a second breathe, a refractory period I needed [from uninterrupted sex; that is, having multiple orgasms drains a man. Ive learned also, women dont need this rest period; so in time Id learn how to last longer, and perhaps stretch the orgasms thinner but again, longer (three hours at the most; and I did).

I thought in my head, she was having sex with me, and then that rich boyfriend she had; she was getting her multiorgasmic pleasures indeed, perhaps a secret to some women, for once they discover this, it is hard for any man to keep up with them, lest he be a superman of sorts. I did not even at that young age have the capacity to pass six organisms; five was my limit I learned. I was limp now; my penis had been as pointed as a scorpions tail a while ago.

As scary as it started out for me I thought my reactions afterwards was cool, I seemed to be lett ing things take their natural course. It was a dark and colorless evening. Grossly romanticized in such an unimpressive way (so I thought in the back of my mind), yet Miss Chris was perfect.

I thought to myself: maybe she might be annoyed with my lovemaking I guess every man wants to please the woman, wife, girlfriend, the one he is making love to, or should want to please her, but most dont; how can they, they pop too quickly. This is a fact, Ive talked to men, and when they say they go so quick, no woman could get it on in that time period. A woman taught me how to hold myself from climaxing too early, thus allowing the woman to catch upand therefore, allowing my female mate to get it on and enjoy. I know this evening went a little fast, but Chris was modest about it, like that other woman who had taught me, helped me, to help her, so we both could enjoy each other more; as my slowing down kept my penis hard longer, allowing her pleasure zone to become wider. Thi s was something of the case in hand, but not completely.

Most men think they make love better drinking, but its far from the truth. Most men do not know how to make love, no one taught them, so all they do is f*ck, and that is not love, that is, if anything, a quick climax, like eating a big fat burger, and wiping your mouth in its enjoyment and then leaving the caf only to find out: you got indigestion, and had you went to a nicer restaurant, ate slower, youd never forget the meal.

I have experimented with that theory, and it is nine-minutes verse four-hours, I say four hours, but I knew in my head it was only one time I lasted four hours, two and a half was the norm.

I was thinking nowas Chris kissed mehow I owe some women a bit of gratitude for allowing me to have my pleasure and not returning it to them; thats the caretaker in a woman I think. But women just dont know men can learn. And men are too bull-headed to let women teach them what pleases the m. I had learned a good lover was worth his weight in gold and even maybe a little more: sometimes they can be irresistible.

One could hardly tell her it wasnt hastily done, our sex (to me it was) for it was, but she seemed to understand the circumstances, and we need not prove anything today, only allow our bodies to be sanctioned to the other. So I think we both felt. Lovemaking would improve as time went on.

Im afraid my lover, we will have to find better accommodations next time, Chris said, smiling at me.

Yes, I hesitated, absently, I hesitated-- I feel the same way.

Its a little hard in such a cramped car luckily we are both a little tipsy.

Im afraid Im not, somehow I sobered up when you took your blouse off. She smiled, with a grin.

Yes. I sense you have, do you really like me Chick?

You are growing on me. And what is there not to like?

She was like a schoolgirl at times, needing to be encouraged, to grow up, and nee ded to be admired. But she didnt need permission to live, she was taking thatbut Im learning to appreciate women more, I told myself, and it seems the more I show appreciation, the more they respect me, and to be quite frank with myself, I need respect. And why not the world will give it, if you demand it, and if not, let that part of the world go; so my second self, my minds eye, told me.

But then as I looked at her, if she really felt she was on death row, with cancer, maybe I was just a remedy for a while, and if so, so what, maybe I needed a remedy to make it through my time here in Germany; so seemed just to me.

8

The Spider and

The Web

A warm-wind had picked up it seemed, and April and May in Germany was a paradise of light-cool sunrays, it was a spring never to forget, Chris and I were growing on one another, like white on rice. More community drinking fairs were picking up and Chris and I tried to make a few, drink it up and eat and ju st go with the flow; it was a good time for living.

Chris and I were known throughout the guardhouse-barracks as lovers and a heat wave at that. She seemed to have a charm with my soldier friends, and often drove her German boyfriends Mercedes car to the gate, and about, showing off kind of, not only to me, but it seemed at times going out of her way to show it to the other guards. Most of my friends thought she had two cars, I simply did not up date them, if they were not in my way of thinking or inner circlewhy squander my time; and in most cases they didnt have a need to know; but Ski and a few other of my friends knew the truth. I felt: plus, I felt: why not let Chris make an impression at the guard shacks, if it helps her ego so be it. I do not think I was envious, rather amused. Im sure somewhere along the line Id have to deal with envy, but who at my age is envious, for what, I have a lifetime to catch up.

She flirted with the guards, and they all tho ught it cool. At night, if I had to work, she would bring me by a sandwich while on duty; in one way she got the guys a little jealous, or in lack of a better word, annoyed. And sometimes she would simply walk into barracks, which had about fifteen-guards some running around half naked from the shower room to their room, while others went visiting. Shed come knocking on my door. Shed spend the night with me, it was an improvement from the car, and for some reason we only went over to her house once in the following two months. I knew we were not fooling anyone at the guard-barracks, but we pretended to be secret about it anyway.

See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com

Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: Chapter Story
Post by History of the Computer | Computer safety tips

Does Public Relations Really Matter?

It does if you want results like these:

• Make sales Prospects aware of your Product and service values and convert many of them to customers.
• Reinforce those same Product and service values with your existing customers and keep many of them.
• Boost your Productivity by persuading your employees that you really do care about them.
• Avoid unnecessary Problems by insuring that the minority community knows you dont discriminate.
• Make employee hiring and retention Problems a thing of the past by convincing community residents that your business is a good place to work.
• Avoid bad Press by being straightforward and responsive to media queries and NEVER lie to them!
• And nail down that joint venture or strategic alliance by quickly knocking down negative rumors started by trouble-making competitors.

Whats common to each of them? Youve used the fundamental Premise of public relations to create results specific to your business at a time of your choosing and each was successful.

Can these results be repeated every time, everywhere? Probably not, but certainly often enough to help your business stay successful.

Here, in my opinion, is the best way to use that fundamental Premise of public relations to your best advantage. First, better read it.

People will act on their own perception of the facts before them. And those perceptions will lead to Predictable behaviors about which something can be done. When we create, change or reinforce that opinion by reaching, persuading and moving-to- desired-action those folks whose behaviors affect your business, the public relations effort is a success.

It works this way.

* Prioritize your most important external audiences.

* Interact with them and ask questions about how they view you.

* Set your public relations goal by deciding how much behavioral change you can realistically achieve in the agreed upon time frame.

* Select your strategy to achieve that goal: create opinion (perception) where none exists; change existing opinion, or reinforce it.

* Prepare persuasive, credible and compelling messages aimed at your key external audience emphasizing how the perception Problem you discovered can be corrected.

* How will you reach your target audience? Communications tactics such as news releases, speeches, radio interviews and letters-to-the-editor will show the way. There are dozens available to you.

* How are you doing? You need to monitor those key target audience members a second time, only this time watching carefully for signs of perception or opinion change.

List your most important external audiences and put the one that impacts your business the most at the top of the list.

Now you must interact with members of that key target audience. M eet with a few people to find out what they think of you, your business and your Products and services. Notice any negativity or brewing Problem areas.

Strive to understand whats causing the negative perceptions among these people so important to your business. Then decide how much behavioral change you realistically can achieve in the agreed upon time frame.

Youve just set your public relations goal: a specific behavior change.

But what strategy will achieve that change? The answer is actually very simple. You have just three choices: create opinion (perception) where none exists, change existing opinion, or reinforce it. This is an important decision because it will influence the direction, content and tone of all of your communications.

Which brings us right to those persuasive messages you will need.

Remember, while including details about your Products and services, your messages must identify what is really at issue at the mom ent, impart a sense of credibility to your comments, and regularly assess and reassess how opinion is running among that group. And, you must indirectly, yet persuasively address any Problem areas that surfaced during your information gathering meetings. And keep in mind your behavior modification goal, especially the needed perception changes.

At this time, communications tactics come to the fore. Ask yourself, how will I reach my target audience members with my messages?

There are literally scores of tactics available to you. Media interviews, emailings, brochures, speeches, face-to-face meetings, open houses and other special events, news announcements and many, many others.

Now, you must monitor results by interacting again with members of that key, target audience, and by keeping an eye on Print and broadcast media for references to your messages or viewpoints.

Because such indicators will reflect how local feelings about your orga nization are changing, youll then have a chance, if needed, to adjust both those communications tactics and message content.

As time passes, youll begin to notice increased awareness of your business and its role in the marketplace; a growing receptiveness to your messages by customers and others; increased public perception of the role your organization plays in its industry and in the community, as well as increasing numbers of Prospects.

By this time, I hope youre persuaded that building a public relations component into your organization does matter, and that it can make a major contribution to your success.

Please feel free to publish this article and resource box in your ezine, newsletter, offline publication or website. A copy would be apPreciated at bobkelly@TNI.net.

Robert A. Kelly 2005

Bob Kelly counsels, writes and speaks to business, non-Profit and association managers about using the fundamental Premise of public relat ions to achieve their operating objectives. He has been DPR, Pepsi-Cola Co.; AGM-PR, Texaco Inc.; VP-PR, Olin Corp.; VP-PR, Newport News Shipbuilding & Drydock Co.; director of communications, U.S. Department of the Interior, and deputy assistant Press secretary, The White House. He holds a bachelor of science degree from Columbia University, major in public relations.

Visit: http://www.Prcommentary.com; bobkelly@TNI.net

Author:: Robert A. Kelly
Keywords:: public relations,Pr,Prm,Pr tips,media advertising,Publicity,Management,strategic planning,bob kelly
Post by History of the Computer | Computer safety tips

August Wilson: In Memoriam

The death of August Wilson does not simply leave a hole in the American Theater, but a huge, yawning wound, one that will have to wait to be stitched closed by some expansive, poetic dramatist yet to emerge.
- Peter Marks. Washington Post On Monday Oct. 17, Broadways Virginia Theater will become the August Wilson Theater. Moving from the nether side of Pittsburgh to a marquee on Broadway is a journey found in the movies of American myth makers. Its the type of journey that keeps Don King waving miniature American flags and hip hop cats cloning clothing lines. Its the American Dream to the extent that it is the Dream personified. Rags to riches. Catfish to caviar. The whole nine. But somehow I think August wasnt quite so impressed with all of that. I cant point to anything that says this specifically. No banners, no signs, no quotes. A simple hypothesis.

But let me be direct with my reasoning. August Wilson, born Frederick August Kittel in the Year o f our Lord 1945 to a Black American mother and a German immigrant father on the wrong end of a steel towns streets, was about the work. He was driven by a sense of ambition that was largely bereft of the navel gazing so prevalent in the artists of the generations that have come after him. No marketing strategies, no publicity stunts, no cross promotion vehicles, no dress to impress networking happy hours. After winning 7 New York Drama Critics Awards, two Pulitzer Prizes and a Tony Award, Wilson was still about the work. After receiving nearly every accolade and award available to a person who makes a living off ideas, he was still about the work. The true strength and beauty of Augusts legacy is the sheer ambition and audacity of his ideas and the willingness to do the heavy lifting necessary to realize his vision.

Both of these attributes had to be in plenty supply for August to not only cover the expanse of Black life in the 20th century in a 10 Play cycle but to do it in the fashion that he did. Linear thought concludes that the cycle started with the 1984 release of Ma Raineys Black Bottom and ended with this years Radio Golf. But that would be too easy and rarely does such creativity come wrapped so neatly. Instead, the Plays come at crazy -degreed angles, masked as seemingly separate creations yet determinedly part of the same free flowing current of schemes and ideas, pain and pleasures, triumphs and tribulations that transverse life in real time. Each Play feeds into a cultural continuum that connects the first Play to the last Play, the second Play to the seventh Play, the ninth Play to the third Play and so on and so on. August draws a direct line from the first days of the first decade to the close of the century because time is irrelevant. What is relevant is going deep into the grooves of human experience to tap into that deeply embedded rhythm that allows us to fall down, get up, fall down and get up again. August was in touch with that. As a result, August was able to successfully condense a century of Black experience into a 20 year burst of literary brilliance.

And the beauty of August Wilson is that he made himself into a Playwright, not through a chance encounter with a Broadway producer at a cocktail party; but through hard work and dedication. Even the people that helped him on his path werent opportunistic enterprises forged simply to establish a career, they were lifelong creative partnerships. Somewhere along the way, August connected with two people that would help him fulfill his lifes work and these relationships told volumes about Wilson the man. The first was director Lloyd Richards, the first man to bring a Black themed Play to Broadway when he staged Lorraine Hansberrys Raisin in the Sun, in 1959. Richards, who served as the dean of the Yale School of Drama and the artistic director of Yale Repertory Theater, Played Quincy Jones to Wilsons Micheal Jackson. He reigned in Wilsons excesses and emphasized Wilsons brilliance, guiding August from community stages to the halls of midtown New York. For Richards, August softened his stance when he knew it was in the best interest of the project.

The second was Aunt Esther, a woman who grew from a figment of Wilsons imagination into the shaper of his consciousness and the key to connecting the past with the present, the present and the future. Aunt Esther was over 300 years old before she actually appeared in an August Wilson Play but she was there the whole time. She made sense of Augusts time warps and connected even the most despicable of Wilsons characters to something greater than himself, greater than herself, greater than us. To Aunt Esther, August listened when he felt that his own experience couldnt capture the moment. A man of considerable talent and more than a little ego, Wilson nonetheless knew when it was best to follow and when it was best to lead . And which posture was going to produce the best product.

But even that wasnt what made August the abnormally driven man he was, even this wasnt the extent of his lifes work. What made this man historically significant was the fact that he wanted Black folks to really love their own culture. It was his fervent hope that Black folks would embrace their own culture, exhibit their own culture, support their own culture. This is not a hunch. This is not a hypothesis. This I know is true because this came from his mouth. I know this was true because it was implicit in his deeds. He said it when he debated Robert Brustein on the dire importance of incorporating Black minds to shape Black art. He showed it when he cancelled the film production of Fences because of Hollywoods inability, or unwillingness, to assign a Black director to the project. And his perspective wasnt a slight toward the sensibilities of non-Black artists, artisans, culturalists etc. It was j ust the simple fact that Black stories are best rendered by Black people. Its about the work.

So from the fall of 2005 on, August Wilsons name will be bear one of the greatest compliments afforded a Playwright. Millions will travel to the heart of New York City and see his name on the marquee of a Theater that he worked so hard to present his creations within. And though he died far too young, August lived long enough to stay true to his word. The completion of his last Play brought an end to the definitive exploration of Black life in the 20th century. His fight to place Black American Theater on equal footing with the theatrical traditions of other cultures will reverberate for years to come. The promises he made, he fulfilled.

Rest in peace August, your work is done.

Phillip Harvey is the editor of http://www.natcreole.com/, an online global Urban culture magazine. Visit the site weekly for updated news, reviews, profiles, Playlists, essays, travel journals, and upcoming events.

Author:: Phillip Harvey
Keywords:: Broadway, august wilson, Playwright, radio golf, Theater, black art, Play, black culture, Urban
Post by History of the Computer | Computer safety tips

RipTail Roarers Clever Sayings and Brags

Life is short and full of blisters, sighed the elderly southern gentlemen as we exchanged confidences about our various problems.

That seemed to sum up our mutual outlook on the vagaries of human existence, so we shook hands and went our separate ways.

That succinct sentence has returned to memory often since I first heard it several years ago - partly because of its homey philosophy, but mostly because it is a draught of cool water to this writer who has wandered long in a language desert searching for oasises.

I have come to realize that the colorful language of my youth in the South has nearly disappeared from the American scene. We speak in precise phrases, short sentences, business-like declarations. Efficient, but drab.

When I was growing up down home it was common for folks to sprinkle their conversation with colloquialisms. Shoveling smoke, or Money thinks I'm dead, or A day late, and a dollar short, or If they put your brains in a jaybird, it'd fly backwards.

What we need are more inventive talkers - like my Uncle Hooky Brown. He appreciated the fine points of discourse.

Hooky dearly loved clerking in the general store at Bradford, Tennessee. He built up a big trade because he was the best Entertainment that side of the Mississippi.

At the conclusion of each sale, while sacking items purchased, he rattled off - in one breath -- a long list of improbable commodities the customer might have forgotten to order. It was a symphony of dialog in a minute waltz:

Thank you kindly, Miz Boone, and will there be anything else today?

Lampwicksaxehandleshorsecollarscorsetstaysblackeyedpeasprunessealingwax beeswaxcarpettaxfignewtonssunbonnetscoaloilshoepolishfurniturepolishsilverpolish bakingsodasodacrackerssodapoppumpwasherspeppermintstickcheeseclothneedles flowerseedssidemeatbuckshot or button hooks?

The spiel varied - depending on the customer's sense of Humor. It was fun to try and figure out what he was trying to get you to buy. You figure it out.

Once in awhile he would get caught by his tomfoolery. A sly customer would reply, Why, yes, now that you mention it. I'll have a dozen corset stays.

Yes, Mam, Hooky would say without hesitation. We're fresh out just this morning. I'll have a box of them for you tomorrow. Would you care to make a ten-dollar deposit?

* * *

Salty talkers in the olden days abounded everywhere. Hey-day of Rip-tail roarers had nearly vanished in my childhood as regular fare. Nonetheless, we kids in small, southern towns could still coax old-timers to recite the Brags and yells they learned as young ranch hands, lumberjacks or riverboat stevedores.

Roars once were the fashion among rough, hardworking men. They made a dent in my youthful memory.

When I was nine, at Caruthersville, Missouri, my father would take me to the levee at the foot of Main Street to watch the Mississippi cotton boats tie u p for cotton bales.

When there was loading, the good old boys -- who usually whiled away the time around the courthouse -- came down to the levee to watch the goings on.

Dad always took along a plug of chewing tobacco to pass around and loosen the tongues of the old-timers. It didn't take much. I got to keep the little, tin, brand tags on the plugs - such as Tin Star, Red Coon, and Bull of the Woods. They were prized collectibles.

You boys remember any of the old Brags? Dad would say, as he stuffed in a chaw of terbakker. Then I snapped to attention. One Brag I remember went something like this:

I'm half horse, half alligator, with a little touch of snapping turtle, clumb a streak of lightning, slid down a locust tree a hundred feet high, with a wildcat under each arm, and never got a scratch. Whoopee-yip-ho!

I come to this country riding a catamount, whipping him over the head with a forty-five and picking my teeth with a rattlesnake, using a c actus for a piller. Whe-e-e! I'm a two-gun cuss and a very bad man, and it won't do to monkey with me. Whoopee!

I was raised in the backwoods, suckled by a grizzly bear, got nine rows of jaw teeth and holes punched for more, a double coat of hair, steel ribs, boiler tube intestines, a barbed wire tail, and I don't give a damn where I drag it. Whoopee-wee-a-ha!

* * *

Frontiersmen took great pride in their personal yells, or Brags, elaborating on them through the years. Generally they were given preliminary to good-natured tussling or roughhousing.

Brags also were a way of announcing their presence at a strange saloon where they wanted to make friends quickly. A creative Brag usually was rewarded with a free beer.

A bar room sally went something like this:

Hey, look at me! I'm the genuine article, a real double-acting engine. I'm a hard customer that can lick any man here. If you don't believe it, step up and try me. I can out-run, o ut-jump, out-swim, chaw more tabaccy and spit less, drink more whiskey and keep soberer, than any man in these localities. Come out some of you and die decently, for I'm spieling fer a fight.

* * *

The best roarers were river men who drifted up and down the Mississippi without calling any place home until they got too old to haul a hawser. Once I heard this magnificent boast at the Caruthersville levee:

• Yah-hoo! I'm the old original iron-jawed, brass-mounted, copper-bellied corpse-maker from the wilds of Arkansaw. They call be Sudden Death and General Desolation.
• Sired by a hurricane. Damn'd by an earthquake. Half-brother to the cholera. Nearly related to the small pox on my mother's side.
• Look at me! I take nineteen alligators and a bar'l of whiskey for breakfast when I'm in robust health, and a bushel of rattlesnakes and a dead body when I'm ailing. I split the everlasting rocks with my g lance, and I squench the thunder when I speak. Whoo-op!
• Stand back and give me room according to my strength. Blood's my natural drink, and the wails of the dying is music to my ears. Cast your eyes on me, gentlemen. Lay low and hold your breath, for I'm bout to turn myself loose.

* * *

How I cherish the character descriptions of my youth.

• Pretty as a new soda fountain.
• Fidgety as a cat on a hot tin roof.
• If brains were dynamite, he wouldn't have enough to blow his nose.
• She eats like there is no tomorrow.
• Knee-high to a grasshopper.
• He drinks like it is about to go out of style.
• Tender as a mother's heart.
• He doesn't care any more about a nickel than his right eye.
• She's tighter than bark on a tree.
• Butter won't melt in his mouth.
• Busy as a one-armed paper hanger.
• His m outh is so big that if it wasn't for his ears, the top of his head would be an island.
• Big as life and twice as handsome.

Compliments in the old days were enhanced by an imaginative choice of words. Insults were tempered by a touch of Humor.

Perhaps life today wouldn't be so grim if only we had the knack of speaking colorfully. Give us more Rip-tail roarers and salty talkers.

October 21, 2001

Lindsey Williams is a Sun columnist who can be contacted at:

LinWms@earthlink.net

LinWms@lindseywilliams.org

Website: http://www.lindseywilliams.org with several hundred of Lin's Editorial & At Large articles written over 40 years.

Also featured in its entirety is Lin's groundbreaking book Boldly Onward, that critically analyzes and develops theories about the original Spanish explorers of America. (fully indexed/searchable)

Author:: Lindsey Williams
Keywords:: Humor,Sayings,Entertainment,Histo ry,Americana,Brag,Whopper,Rip-tail,Insult,Linguistic
Post by History of the Computer | Computer safety tips

Macromedia Shockwave Games

Almost 400 million people have installed the Macromedia Shockwave player on their computers. This allows them to play free online Games which have an astounding level of quality and detail. Shockwave is Macromedia's first multimedia player and predates the existence of Flash. Though it was specifically designed for movies, Shockwave has become the tool of choice for developing online Games.

The 3D engine used with Shockwave is the most powerful in existence today for online Gam es. It has surpassed even Java in popularity. Most developers now use this amazing tool to create free online Games. All flash files can be played in the shockwave player. The Shockwave engine renders objects much faster than Flash, and it also works with the video hardware on the user's computer. The only problem with Shockwave is that it is not available for Linux. The Linux community is lobbying to change this.

The free online Games produced using the Shockwave engine are nothing short of impressive. It is believed by many experts that further advances in this technology may allow it to compete with console Games in the future. While this may sound slightly far fetched, it is far from being impossible. Many argue that the graphics capability of the Shockwave engine can compete with or surpass that of the PSP or Nintendo DS. While this is up for debate, there can be no doubt that Shockwave is a force to be reckoned with.

Games can be produced in Shockwave for any genre. Racing Games, RPGs, fighting, and simulators are all currently available in Shockwave. Many of these free online Games require users to meet certain system requirements in order to play them. This is the only downside which separates them from console Games. All Games which are designed for a specific console will work. With Shockwave you need to have a computer which is powerful enough to play them. The most powerful advantage Shockwave Game s have over console Games is cost.

While many of these Games may be free, some cost as little as $9.95 per download. This is a lot cheaper than the $40 you will pay for a PSP game, or the $60 you will pay for an Xbox 360 game. As better Games are released in Shockwave, we may see a shift in popularity from console Games back to computer Games in the future. Shockwave has made a huge impact in free online Games and their developement.

Michael Colucci is a technical writer for dustGames.com - A site that offers you to play free online Games on a free online arcade game site.

Author:: Michael C olucci
Keywords:: Games
Post by History of the Computer | Computer safety tips

Extracts From the Dead Diary of Troy Burroghs

Extract #1 of 2 Day one and two From the Dead Diary Of TB [written in St. Paul, Minnesota, January 2004; re- Edited 4/29/2006

Being dead was not a big thing to me, at least not as big as I thought it might be, or could be, but then, then Ive only been dead for a less than a day, maybe a few hours, lets say, several hours. Listen up now, I had seen most everything anyways, that is, most everything a man wants to see in his life time, like: war, poverty, being rich and traveling 24-times around the world; being married four times, having five kids; having forty some jobs. You get the picture, right? Sure you do. Pardon the expression, but life, as I knew it was getting a bit boring. So it was a good time to die, as good as any I expect. Had I lived longer, I thinkwith my personalityId just got into more mischief.

All in all, I am dead as dead can beand to be quite honest, to be down right frank, things couldnt be much better. I now have the whole universe to explore; --that is, once I figure out all the angles, and angelic beings, and the horde of fiends and the imps hiding here and there, in this new abode of mine. And so the great discovery, the one I waited for, as humans hate to acknowledge, but mentally wait for, hoping the day never arrives: mine arrive several hours ago. On earth it was pretty much: A dog eat dog place. Here it seemsand Im not sure yetI am on my own pretty much. On earth everyone had what you called Advise, and no place to store it so they gave it away, free for the taking, or in many cases, it was shoved down ones throat. I dont sense any shoving out here, out in this inky-atmosphere. That is why it is free, advise, still on that word, that troubled word, you know, they got no room to store it so they throw it at you like: garbage; generally speaking, that is the reason its free. [I know I am repeating myself in this diary, but in lack of not much more to say, I say it twice, free garbage.

Fo r the record, and I suppose every new-comers who die say the same thing (I shall find out soon), or so I suppose, I find my feet wanting to stand on something solid, but again it is something I have to get used to, like glasses, after a while you dont even noticed you got them hanging on your nose, but they are there nonetheless. Out here in space [and now I know why they call it Space, that is all that is out here, lots of room, too much to absorb, out here in space, as I look down, down by my feet I see earth, its winter time in Minnesota, so it was even better to die now because in Minnesota, man-oh-man, the winters are nothing but hardship. You race from one warm place to another. I dont feel warm or cold; actually I dont feel anything at all. Not sure how this is going to be in the long run, not a physical body, in a somewhat physical universe. But then Ive only been dead a few hours, I know here I go again, ok, 7 hours and 15-minutes to be exact: still getting accli mated.

I really like the fact, I dont have to buy gas for my car, or car insurance, or pay taxes anymore, or for that matter, get on them damn buses and trains and planes, to get to my destinations; it seems I can go pretty fast without these old rusting objects now. I have found I can go faster than the speed of sound, how do I know this, I sneezed, and then I jumped as far as I could, and it took a second or two for the sound to catch me. No big scientific discover Im sure, but it was interesting. I went from the moon to Mars in one or two seconds, about 250-million miles I think. I also think it was more by thought than by action, but I guess its really a mixture of both. I can see a faded configuration of myself. To be frank, I liked the sound of the whiz, the sound when I went sailing in Space, its inky-nothingness, ending up at the Moon and then on Mars, the sound was amazing, kind of like whizzzzzzzz, and there I was, no special effects, just a Whiz, sound . Matter-of-fact, when I took-in [a while ago a breath of this black-ash sky, or sphere-air, whatever one calls it, I was on the moon, when I was simply above the clouds of earth before, which is 250,000-air miles for anyone collecting them. If I am to record my reaction, it was:

O-boy!!

I thought for the first few hours of my death [being a little disorientated I was simply in a dream state of some kind, when I was alive, I often was in such a state of existence: then I shook that off as being preposterous, once I seen my mother coming slowly in the distance; for she had died some six months ago.

Ayay, hello son! said she, in her calm and direct way. Thats when I had to take a double take on her, yup, I said to myself, thats my mom all right!

Ayay, Mom! I said in a sloppy surprised look, yet very happy to see her again, then added to the dialogue, how fast can you travel?

She hesitated for a moment, said, First things first son, and gave me a big, big hug, then saidhmmm, possibly I can reach Mars in a millisecond, [I read that to mean, a clap of the eye; I gave that a slight little frown, also for when she died I was faster than her, now she put me in place, it took me at least two seconds. Oh well, I thought, leave well enough alone (shes had more practice), and put back on my face a caring smile.

Nevertheless, I said in awe-belief: You dont say, my goodness, that is fast I couldnt finish my statement-question, for mom butted in by saying:

Youll never changequestions, questions and more questions, thats all you did on earth, ask questionsbut I love you nonetheless, and she smiled with a deep joy to her countenance. I guess she was never one to worry about such things, she let life glide along as it may; for myself, I was always was in panic state, or at least most of my life. As if I couldnt get to the end quick enough.

[A long pause took place, son and mother looking at each other in the g reat expanse of nothingness of the inky outer space.

Did you every go back to earth Mom? I asked her.

A few times to see you, andwell, you know, a mothers job is never done, but you made it through the grieving process, I was unsure for awhile, after passing on; other than that son, no reason to go back there.

[Again they both had a long pause, looking at one another, happy to be together again, if only for a moment.

As I looked at my mother, not sure how one measured time, but night was falling over a section of the earth, the side I was looking down on. It must have been but a few minutes or so I thought, but possibly a few hours for earth. Then looking about, I marveled at the asteroids and comets zooming by my head, the monstrous sounds they created, and the cold they carried with them, I could see the ice on them. And the emotions that went in my shell of a body was tranquil, calm, as if every emotion went through the process of osmosis [befor e it reached my adrenalin; in and out of my invisible skin my transparent form it seeped blazing with controlled emotions, and descriptions of everything that passed me, colors, many colors, the suns drifting behind the moon.

Yaw, ya, ya, so whats on your agenda now son? asked my mother with a tone a cleaver tone, a mothers tone if you get me: that seemed to be losing its enthusiasm for just standing about; I think she wanted to get on with this new life, she was always creative and busy: making things. I suppose my whole family was, myself and brother included creative in our own rights; my brother being the only one alive yet. All that healthy living he does: eats good, works out with weights, and all I didbeing a redhead, was travel, write poetry, Army stuff, and fight battles, either in war, or in words, or in temperaments.

Mm m m, I murmured, let me see: a trip that is what is on my mind, that is what I told my mother. She smiled at me again, knowing I li ved to travel, traveled was part of my reason for living, or so it seemed; having been around the world in my earthly lifetime some 25-times (or is it 24?). Most tedious for her I suppose, but most regrettable for me if I didnt take advantage of this opportunity, to check out more of the universe.

Said she [she: being my mother: I should have guessed that, you know you could grab onto a comet, and who knows where it may take you. Not sure if that was sarcasm or not, but even in the after life, you dont get smart with your mother.

Or an asteroid, I added to that statement, why not join her in her sarcasm, if you cant beat them join them. We both laughed, it felt good.

Did you know I met Serrel, the angel you wrote about on earth in your book? I was a bit taken back, when she said that, but not too much.

I kind of made him up Mom, you know, but then I kind of did not, I mean I knew an angel was there, and tried to figure out his name, and that came t o me.

[With a stern voice Yes, yes I know that, but he is on the other hand, REAL, so you should say hello, that is, after your trip, if that is how youd like it.

I got thinking: we are who we are when we die, and whatever we are is who we are, like it not, somehow I had the thinking, Id be thinking differently, but Im not, the only thing different is my environment, that is to say, my mother didnt lose her spunk.

Day Two:

It was a good meeting with my mother, and I did meet Serrel at this point of my new journey. And now I see the sun rising on the earth, so it must be day two. I think I shall move on, blow myself like an invisible wind going through a whistle, blow myself some place, any place. And finish my diary as I live this new life.

As I look about, I cant seem to find any fast moving rocks, or asteroids, or whatever (woops, a piece of metal just flew by, I spoke too soon ((must have been from a spacecraft from earth, you see we are ev en cluttering up outer space; unbelievable)). I just got to thinking: if I go too far out into outer space, than what, I might get lost; anything is possible. Matter-of-fact, I wonder if you can get lost? I should have asked my Mother that, or Serrel. By and by I shall, but for now, I dont really caredo I? Being lost can be fun, I think. I did it in China, and once in Spain, and, oh well, in half the countries I ventured in, I got lost. Zoommmmmmmmasteroid.

[And like a ship sailing away, Mr. Troy Burroghs sailed and sailed away until an asteroid came by, then he was whizzed awayend of extract one, day one and two of the: Dead Diary of TB short for Troy Burroghs; extract one and two are the last of the Troy Burroghs stories written by the author. Part two Death Diary Extract #2, day three and Four to be given

See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com

Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: Short Story
Post by History of the Computer | Computer safety tips

How to Choose the BBQ Thats Right for You

No matter what kind of food you want to barbeque, there is a barbecue out there that is perfect for your needs and budget.

When it comes to outdoor entertaining, or just enjoying a hot summers day, the barbeque is an important part of the whole experience. Whether youre looking for portable and disposable models, or a stainless steal, state-of-the-art appliance with all of the latest gadgets, there are always a swath of different barbeques for your perusal.

Remember, it isnt just your cooking skills that will dictate the success of your barbequed meals, but also choosing the proper barbeque to cater to your outdoor cooking needs and desires.

After all, little is more wasteful than paying good money for added features that youll never use, or having to try to make dinner for fifteen people on a one square foot grill. Therefore, before heading out to the barbeque store, or even before shopping around online, you will need to consider the different element s that should dictate your final BBQ decision.

Among the most important factors to remember are:

a. How much you want to spend

b. How many people youll usually be cooking for

c. How much space you have in your garden for cooking

d. How (and if) youll be storing it in the winter

Once you have these answers figured out, youll be able to start thinking about the different barbeque types that are available to you.

If youll only be cooking occasionally, and on a smaller scale, disposable barbecues foil trays with their own charcoal and lighter paper may be exactly what youre looking for. These are very simple to light, and will burn well for enough time to cook any reasonable meal. These are ideal for cooking in small spaces, or cooking on a picnic (where fires are permitted), but should not be your selection if you are looking into serious outdoor cookery.

Charcoal and gas barbeques come in many different shapes and sizes and ar e frequently collapsible for easy storage. Some are on casters, and while others require around 5 feet of patio space, others need less than half of that. Though some have side burners, rotisseries, griddles, hot plates, and other food warming gadgets, its important to consider the basics first, and build from there.

First, check out the cooking space. Will the space be large enough to handle what youll likely be cooking? Next, have a look at the size of the entire barbeque. Remember that youll not only need to have enough room for it, but also for yourself to work around it, as well as tables for holding your accessories, marinades, sauces, uncooked food, and naturally, for the people who will be eating your masterpieces. Remember that youll also need enough space in your garage or shed to store the barbeque during the winter.

Your barbeque should be tough enough to handle the great outdoors, as well as the wear and tear that youll inflict upon it. This m eans sturdy construction, metal work, and corrosion resistant paint and fittings. A cover is often very beneficial to keep out a spurt of rain, so you might consider that a good investment.

Lastly, have a look at the ease of lighting, cleaning, and charcoal removal. After that, all you need to consider is the color and overall appearance of the barbeque, and how it will compliment your garden.

About The Author
Richard Cussons is a prolific and diverse writer. You can find out more about the origins of barbeques at http://www.bbq-resources.net/.

Author:: Richard Cussons
Keywords:: out youll, barbeque remember, youll only
Post by History of the Computer | Computer safety tips

Storm in the Mind A poem of Unrest/and Notes by the Author

Here is a new poem by the Poet, Dennis Siluk, and to my thinking, or reasoning, he has chosen to make a few notes on [I think, his reasoning, and feelings on Poetry per se, after the poem; and again, I repeat, his view on dramatic verse, and maintaining balance in the poem. The poem has good images, and is done in free verse, yet it has some regularity to it, stanza's of threes. Rosa Penaloza

Storm in the Mind

Vague unrest,
Wanting something
But not knowing what?

Soiled days
Sharp and painful
Hunting vainly for it

But finding only unrest;
Perhaps it is peace,
Love or beauty

Or all of the above
I seek
Want to possess.

I must be looking,
For the face of life
Its deepest secrets

all conquests
In life are trivial?
After the pursuit?

Maybe it is waking up
From the dead I seek?
Like volcanic convulsions

Beneath my feet;
Knowledge after the end;
The sweetness

Of that existence!...

Envoy.

Breathing the blaze
Of the sun
Putting the resilient

Muscles in motion
The vigor of life being spent,
Is only part of the horizon?
My friend

If I could re-thumb
My clay image
Into another likeness,
It would the same I fear
Except with wings .

#727 6/2005

Notes by the Author: Poetry is/or should be, I believe, the catalyst which frees us of ourselves. Poetry cri es, if not barks at the reader, Possess me! And keep me in your consciousness, it says.

I suppose in my dramatic lyrics, prophetic outcries, I suppose you could call them, sometimes dominate my love and search: thus, becoming a destroyer, just as much as a preserver in the poems harmonic balance. At times puzzling for me, but I dont like loitering poems, so I shoot for the sky.

Poet/Author Dennis Siluk
http://dennissiluk.tripod.com

Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: Poetry
Post by History of the Computer | Computer safety tips

The Art of Wishing On Birthdays

Birthday celebrations are becoming very common. Earlier not everyone used to celebrate birthdays. Now a days, around the world people celebrate birthdays. This has made a birthday look like a common occurrence. But for the person who is celebrating his/her birthday, the day comes once in a year. So for them, it is a very important day. What is the way to make your friends and family feel good on their birthdays? Let us find out.

Your wish on a birthday should make the recipient feel happy and important. He/she should feel that your wishes are coming from your heart and there is nothing casual about them. Even if you are not sending a gift, a card is good enough, provided it manages to convey what you mean. For a moment put yourself in his/her position. For them, it is a very important day. It is the day they were born. It is a day that holds very special meaning for them. Many of us try and find out who else was born on our birthdays. We feel connected with people bo rn on our birthday. Therefore please make sure that your wishes are heart felt. That is the reason why selection of a right card becomes very important.

If the person you are sending your wishes accesses the Internet, then an ecard is a very good option. An ecard or egreeting card looks better than a printed card because it can be animated. One can see lot of movement in the ecard, which is not possible with printed cards. But the ecard should fit the person to whom you are sending it. For a female recipient, choose muted colors. For elderly persons, chose muted earth colors. For children chose bright colors and for others choose appropriate colors. Look at the animation carefully. Except to children, avoid sending cards with cartoons, as they are becoming very common. Send Ecards with theme of nature - flowers, waterfalls, rivers, oceans, mountains etc. Read the text carefully. If you were to receive the card, how you would have felt reading the text? Choose the text carefully so that it conveys your heart felt wishes. Let the recipient feel that the ecard was selected after lot of deliberation.

A good ecard can make someone's day. Select the right ecard to wish birthday to friends, family and colleagues and bring sunshine in their life on their birthday. Make them feel important and happy with your egreeting card.

CD Mohatta writes for Ecards and online greetings, screensavers and desktop wallpapers. He also writes his blog on holidays - http://www.holidaystocelebrate.blogspot.com/ The topics of his writings include love, inspiration, holidays, birthdays, nature, religion and spirituality, success etc. You can have his writings on your desktop with free desktop wallpapers. These are static wallpapers which can be your computer desktop background all the time. Read the messages and get inspired all day. He also writes for http://www.yourromanceguide.com This website is a guide on dating, love, relationship, romance, marriage, and break ups.

Author:: CD Mohatta
Keywords:: Birhdays, Ecards
Post by History of the Computer | Computer safety tips

"One Horse and Six Men" (Arizona Blue Gunfighter)

Had he not gone into that backyard, or was it a corral? Im not sure, I wasnt there; had he not gone into that bar and just stayed at that hotel, until the wedding took place, that forenoon day hed not have gotten killed, is what Im talking about. Heart breaking it was to the city folks, that forenoon day, the day he got himself killed: well, I think most of the folks felt that way for his wife to be, it wasnt Arizona Blues death I dont think that they cared about so much. Anyhow, he had gone into that town, like it or not, and had he not gone into that town he would have gotten killed anyhow in another; everyone knew that; especially you folks.

No, it wasnt his nature to live by such rulesany rules, and of course now he cant go back can he. His bride to be is now in the grave with him. With all respects intended, he knew such a day was coming; the only thing he didnt know, was how, when and where, not if. He killed something like 36-peple, so there cant be a whole l ot of sympathy for the guy; oh, I liked him myself, but he lived in a silent life of his own anyhow. Not many people in it, something on the order of anti social almost; or so a psychologist would call it. He liked the hear the sweeping winds of the mountains, and plains, and prairies. He knew people would not understand his ways, and so he shied away; you know, better alone, being alone, than in a crowed and being alone and not feeling free to be yourself; something like that.

He was a hermit on a horse you could say. He never asked for anything, such as, money he didnt work for and gave very little mercy to his neighbor. He kind of felt I think, if you can walk, and talk, and bend your back, you didnt need anymercy that is. You probably know all this already, but if you dont its a handful of nothing, but he had a charm about him. People resented him for being who he was; or who they thought he was. Even the women took his side. And there really was only one wom an he loved, The Lady in White. Other than that, every time he opened his eyes he either saw Dan his horse, the sun, rain, snow, or mud. But I guess he made his own life, his own way, and that is saying a lot.

He saw many things in his life, and for a man of his day, he traveled a lot: he saw the ugly, the improvised, the greedy, and what hed do most often was kick his boots to get the sand off, and leave town, usually after he killed someone. That was perhaps his plight.

He was either frozen half to death or overheated, there normally wasnt an in-between. And towns, he saw many of them, so many he stopped counting long before he got killed, I assure you; and he left them all a little more mixed up than when he arrived.

I am an old friend of his (kind of), and I tired to imagine how he died, but of course as I said before, I wasnt there, but I was fifteen years before he died by his side, back in the 1870s, and this is where my story begins.

As I was saying, it was a long time ago, perhaps sixteen years ago, now that I think of it, since hes been dead a year or so. I had walked out of my house, left my wife inside, and seven year old son, a crowed was accumulating by my door steps; I was the town marshal, back then.

I saw him in the crowd, he was standing in-between several of the fifteen or so men, no one noticed him, he wasnt as famous then, as he was, afterwards. I suppose you could say this helped his infamous status, grow, and put a few notches on his belt buckle. Incidentally, my name is Shawn Cody Liberty; I was the town marshal in this little Ol town in Wyoming. He actually came through here a few times, this perhaps was his first.

As I was saying, or about to say anyhow, here I stood on my porch, looking at a hungry crowd, I had a drunk gunman in the towns jail cell, and the folks wanted me to let him go, in fear his father, with his gang would rape and shoot up the town. I cant blame them, now tha t I think back, when I reminisce, but back then I was young, and this wasnt the first time this happened.

This fella in the cell had been shooting up the town every time he and his father and gang members rode on through, even killed an old drunk back in 1867, a Veteran of he Civil War, likewise he had killed another drunk in a bar this time; I had to overlook it back then, and call it an accident, after he threatened several town folks hed rape their wives and daughters should they not back him up; and I suppose they felt I could not protect them, and the old man would not be missed. So you see, things were not pleasing to me, when I saw this crowd, and I felt this was my fate, to die this evening, and I would have, I assure you. My wife tried to pull me back into the house, and the guys laughed at me, and it made me all the more stubborn to stay out and assure this would not happen again; that this man would face trial.

George Conrad, was the boys name in the cell, his father a big rancher about a hundred miles someplace outside of town, the Ranch was called: The Diamond C. A nice ranch I heard, the old man inherited it from his father, who was not a drunk, like him and his kid.

As the crowd started demanding his release, Arizona Blue, came up to me, whispered:

Lets kill them all. Then he smiled at the folks, Im sure they thought he was threatening me, informing me I should go along with the crowd, they kind of gave a grimace and low laugh. What could I say; they were here to kill me. Had I said ok, Im not going to let them have George, Im sure Blue would have walked away, not said a word, it was his style. These folks had guns standing in the street. Among them his brother Godfrey and father Tabasco, thats what they called the old man, not sure of his real first name was, just his last, Conrad. Anyhow, they we were.

Yes, I trusted the man, he said he was Arizona Blue, and I had heard of the name, being a lawma n, but was he that good, as good as it would take to outshoot all these folks.

Then I heard Mr. Conrads voice say (rough and bleak): We want the keys to the cell or well come in your house and find them, one way or the other.

And Blue said, Good, thats what Im waiting for. Thus, he confirmed it, and I had to sand up now to the crowd, a lot of wisecracking going on as I looked at their faces; I knew this was it: the showdown.

It was a shadowy twilight so I dont know who shot first, but Blue skinned his gun so quick by the time I got to shoot, everything, and everyone was silent: voices, dogs, horses, no birds, no sounds: I shot one round, that was it, Blue shot six, and pulled out another revolver, and was ready to shoot some more, but all the folks hightailed it out of the street.

I looked about, six folks lay dead, and yes it was the brother and the father among the six.

Listen, I said to Blue, the crowd now gone, I was ready to ask him: did he have to shoot so many people, but before I could say another word, he said:

Had to shoot the ring leaders first, they were the hot heads, and the ones next to them, they were kind of too close so I had to take them four down, couldnt help it. Then he added, I see you got one!

Which one, I asked, and he pointed toward the dead horse. He smiled at me, and that was the only time we both kind of had business together. Oh I had seen him pass through, and he always had a smile for me, so I kind of liked him. That George character, well, he ended up in prison for ten years, got out and became the town lawyer, believe it or not. He never really blamed Arizona Blue for killing his father or brother, he had said: it was like war back then: but I know he had some hidden resentment.

Notes: written 12/12/2005; note by the author: I think my wife was very sad I published his death, and so, because the series went quite well, and many folks came to read him on the inte rnet, her is one last glance into the annuals of Arizona Blue, unless she harps on me again (I may have some episodes someplace around here if I can find them, and if I do, Ill let you know; thank you all for your interest, it was fun; incidentally, Ive been to all the locations, as I have for all my writings, or 97% of them). DLS Dedicated to Rosa

See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com You can see Dennis' books at http://www.bn.com or http://www.abe.com

Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: Poetry
Post by History of the Computer | Computer safety tips