On Double Faults and a Wart: an essay

Modern medicine is amazing.  Recently, I saw a woman performing a very physical and energetic dance routine, which included an unassisted backflip. What made this amazing was that the woman had an artificial leg.

But is an example of modern-day medical miracles.  Back in the old days, when I was younger (if I say “back”, then of course I was younger), I sought medical help.  I had a wart on the end of my left index finger, right at a place that put it squarely in the way of everything I did. Right on the pad of my fingertip. And of course, the left hand is the ball-tossing hand for a right-handed tennis player.  I’m certain that any double faults I may have committed in my career to that point were a direct and impossible-to-overcome result of that wart.  I hated it.  Ken Rosewall—international tennis champion whose size, build, and indeed his strokes, resembled mine—did not have a wart on the end of his ball-tossing finger. There are some conclusions that could be drawn from this. But, I’ll leave those for others to make.

After putting up with it for more years than I care to think about, I sought medical help.  A prominent doctor (who also happened to be a neighbor) listened to me complain about it, probably more than once, and said, “Come to my office and I’ll get rid of it.”

Well, you know the rest of that story.  I went post-haste.

Now, I must preface these next two paragraphs with the true statement that I have a strong stomach. This is well documented and amply proven during my wife’s first pregnancy, as she was sick and threw up during every meal.  I did not lose weight. (Of course, she didn’t either.)

I visited the doctor’s office, eager to rid myself of this handicap. He had me sit on a table, grabbed a needle, jabbed it into my index finger and proceeded to inject my digit with enough fluid that my finger became twice as big around. Next, he took an electric wood-burning instrument, and attacked the wart. This caused it to turn brown, making it even uglier than it had been.  But I was okay with that.  Whatever liquid he had pumped in, not only fattened my finger but deadened it as well.  I watched with fascination.

Next, he grabbed a pair of scissors and with no preamble, no song or dance, no signing of a release form, no reading a privacy notice, not even a request for insurance information, proceeded to cut the entire pad off my sausage finger. If you ever had someone take a pair of scissors and snip off part of your very own body, then you will understand why I almost passed out.  I turned white, my head became faint, I saw portions of my early life pass before my eyes (without even a tape recorder handy), and I almost fell off the table. The good doctor steadied me and gave me instructions on taking care of the end of my finger. I had to correct the man. I no longer had an end of my finger.  He rephrased and suggested what to do with the stump left behind. And lest I forget that staple of all literature, my stomach roiled.

But, the wart was gone.  Halleluiah!

In time, with the miracle of – not medicine – the human body, I grew a new pad. Without a wart.  Excitement.  And for the next year, it is likely that I never double-faulted again on the tennis court. (Records are sketchy on this, some perhaps burned in a mysterious fire.)

If that were the end of the story, it would never have made the New England Journal of Medicine.

A  year or so later, the wart was back. In exactly the same place. The same size. And as annoying as ever.  No, not as annoying.  Much worse.  I had tasted freedom.  I had had a smooth, wart-free finger.  To say I was unhappy to see this return is to say Paul Bunyan was big.  It doesn’t begin to tell the story. But, I was not going back and test my strong stomach again.  No snipping off the end of my finger again. I would have to live with an occasional double-fault.

The exciting conclusion, with a mysterious twist, will be coming next week.  Stay tuned.  It will be worth it.  And feel free to leave a comment on this first bit on the wart and double faults.  Thanks.

The Good Old Days

Just got off the phone talking with a friend of mine. He had been to the doctor and was waiting for information on what kind of influenza he had.

And that set me thinking about the “good old days.”

I mean, back then, we only had one influenza.  Now we have progressed to multiple types.  Wasn’t just one influenza enough?

Of course, I realized what I had been doing for the past two weeks.  Trying to get a phone.  There are so many companies to choose from. And once you pick a company, there are dozens of plans to select from.  Remember when there was only one company?  I know.  They didn’t have cell phones then. But they might have advanced to have cell phones, right?

Life gets complicated. I was shopping yesterday and one item on the list was “apples.”  Easy.  Except, at the grocery store there were easily a dozen different types of apples. Which one should I get?  Some were better for baking, while others were just right for an apple pie. These were tart and these were sweet and those were crisp, and on and on.  I bought grapes.  Green, red or black.

No wonder we are having more people with problems.  Far too many choices.

We bought a car last year and there was a three-day discussion on the color. I remember Henry Ford who made cars available to the masses.  He said you can have any color you want – as long as it is black. Truth be told, I was glad we had more choices in the color.  I didn’t want black.  Too hot in Texas.  I picked maroon. I know. White might be cooler.  But I like maroon.

Of course, sometimes, it’s best to stay away from the “good old days.”  A few weeks ago, I was talking about those days to some of the grandkids. And I said, there was a time when you did not have to be at the airport early.  You might arrive three minutes before the flight left and you’d get on. They weren’t certain about that. Then, I went too far.  I told them that if you missed a flight, as I did occasionally, you could take your ticket to another airline that happened to be going where you wanted to go, and just get on that flight.  They questioned that. And I said, it absolutely happened. Just take the ticket from airline A, find the next flight on another airline, say airline B,  and walk up to the gate and give airline B the ticket you had bought from airline A.  Airline B happily took it and off you went.

Several of the kids were skeptical. But one just got up and left. He said that could not possibly happen and I was making up stories to confuse him and he wasn’t going to listen anymore.

So, I think I’ll just stop thinking about the “good old days.” And certainly not talk to the grandkids about that time.  Of course, for these kids, today will be the “good old days” when they get older.  They’ll tell stories about all the good choices they had.

Tell us your favorite “good old days” story.  And thanks for stopping by.

jim

 

Happy Birthday, U.S.

It’s July 4th as I write this. The 4th of July always brings back memories of our nation and the great holidays of the past, and the great patriots our country has seen.

When I was young, there was always a big parade on July 4th.  And it was a patriotic parade. Veterans were honored.  Rousing, music was played by the bands in the parade.  People waved flags, from three and four-year-olds to octogenarians. Most of the movies houses had some sort of a patriotic movie showing.  It was an exciting day.

I mentioned that to a friend last week.  His reply was, “We’re beyond that stuff now.  We get the news of how things really are.”

How sad. I believe we got a truer picture of news in those days. Not in real time. But not slanted to match the preferences of the particular newspaper or radio station. Was it always correct?  No. But the term “fake news” didn’t even exist.  People believed “if it’s in print, it’s probably true.”  Reporters required two independent sources. The common practice today of quoting “a reliable, unnamed source” was not the norm sixty years ago.

I miss the patriotism.  I miss the flag being honored. We didn’t let the flag touch the ground; burning one was unthinkable.  Should we object when things are wrong, unjust, unfair?  Yes.  But Gandhi and Martin Luther King showed that peaceful protesting can work. Today, a perceived unjust situation seems to be a permit to burn cars, loot, destroy stores where the owner had nothing to do with the problem, except to be on the wrong street.

I visit Mexico frequently.  And while I love Mexico, it misses out on some of what makes the U.S. great.  As an example, in Mexico, if you are arrested, you are presumed guilty until you can prove yourself innocent – unlike the U.S. where you are innocent until proven guilty.

However, the U.S. could learn some things from Mexico.  The story in my latest book, Political Dirty Trick,  takes place during a gubernatorial race in Texas. The candidates spent nine months campaigning (though the book covers only a small portion of that time).  In Mexico, the campaign is limited to two months.  Total.  Gotta love that.  Elections are held on a Sunday.  So, all beer and liquor sales are stopped for the Saturday before and the Sunday election day.  Of course, that makes the Friday before elections a fantastic day for beer and liquor sales.

Okay, off my soapbox.  It’s the 4th of July and I will simply thank God I was born in the United States.

Now That was Persistence

Persistence

Though we have all seen the various successful writers who could paper their wall with rejections, I ran across one that stopped me cold.  I was reading about a massive fire in Sonoma County, CA. It mentioned the damage to the Jack London State Historical Park.  The Park Staff transported thousands of historical relics to Sacramento, safe from the fires.

Over a hundred years ago, Jack and his wife were building Wolf House in this same area. It was a massive twenty-six room mansion with stone exterior and a spectacular interior of redwood, oak and walnut woodwork. Just before they planned to move it, it was destroyed by fire.

But the brief note that halted me was the statement that the House of Happy Walls, a Jack London museum, has a collection of the six hundred (600) rejections he received before selling a single story.

Six hundred.

Before selling his FIRST story.

So, that brings us to our word of the week.

Persistence.

“Victory belongs to the most persevering.”  Napoleon

Benjamin Franklin said, “Energy and persistence conquer all things.”

And  Aisha Tyler suggested, ” Success is not the absence of failure; it’s the persistence through failure.”

So, take heart, writers. Be persistent. The chances of you surpassing Jack London in rejections is small indeed.  And yet, we all know Jack London. And kids still read his stories, even a hundred years after his death.

Let’s hear your comments on rejections.  How many have you received? And did you ever get one like this: “I haven’t the foggiest idea about what the man is trying to say.” That publisher rejected Catch-22 by Joseph Heller, a novel believed to have been given its name because it was the 22nd publisher, Simon and Schuster, who agreed to take it on. To date: 10 million sales.

My newest novel is not funny.  It’s Political Dirty Trick, the third in the Crystal Moore suspense series.  Crystal’s good friend Ron Drake is running for the office of governor of Texas. Some believe a political dirty trick might derail Drake’s fast-moving campaign. But something goes terribly wrong with the trick and a man is killed. And things go downhill from there.

Crystal is determined to find out who is providing fake news to the media. Crystal is persistent. As she finds clues, she becomes a target.  Soon, it’s not a question of whether Drake will win or lose, but whether Crystal will be alive to see the outcome.

The Midwest Book Review had this to say:  “Powerful in its characterization, plot, and narrative interactions, Political Dirty Trick is the item of choice for thriller readers who like their stories steeped in realistic scenarios and possibilities.” Senior Reviewer Diane Donovan

“It reads like a fast-paced James Patterson cliffhanger.”   Author William Doonan

Political Dirty Trick is relentlessly intriguing and satisfies right up to the memorable climax.”  Author Michael Hartnett

This group of characters gets stronger with each book in this series.” Amazon Customer Adele Weitz

“Political Dirty Trick” by James R. Callan has it all – mystery, murder, political scandal and suspense with a unique cast of characters. It’s a fantastic addition to the author’s Crystal Moore Suspense series and one you definitely won’t want to miss!”   P. Gligor, Amazon customer

Political Dirty Trick is available in paperback and Kindle editions at:  https://amzn.to/2pIHMqs

And leave a comment on any rejection stories you have – personal or from other famous writers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Slippery Slope

For some time, I had been thinking about writing a book where the antagonist was initially a good person.  This  good person stepped over “the line.”  Why or how would that happen?

There are many ways. Perhaps by accident. Or maybe he or she got tricked.  Certainly a person could yield to the temptation, cross the line, then regret it.  Of course, someone might talk the person into the action, make it sound not so bad, perhaps even a good thing, or for a good cause. And fifty other reasons.

Then what?

In my newest book, Political Dirty Trick, a thirty-five-year-old woman gets talked into an illegal act by George. Recently divorced, Ginnie is looking for something to occupy her dull and empty life. She joins an election committee as a volunteer.  George,  an experienced volunteer, relates to her in private that their candidate doesn’t have a chance at winning.  But, a good dirty trick on the opponent, Ron Drake, could drag down his support amongst the voters. Ginnie gets enthusiastic about the possibility. The problem is, the opponent is such a straight shooter, they can’t find anything to expose about him.

Ginnie laments there is nothing they can do and they are just backing a certain loser. George says they could manufacture something. He suggests they could steal a valuable painting from Drake and put it in a storage unit rented under his name. When later they let it be found, Drake will get lots of negative publicity.  And if he had already collected the insurance money for the painting, his poll numbers would definitely tank.

Ginnie says stealing is wrong. But George convinces her that they are not really stealing.  They are putting it in a storage unit under Drake’s name, so they aren’t keeping it. They are just moving it from Drake’s house to his storage unit. Ginnie is reluctant, but eventually gives in and says she will “relocate” the painting if George can rent the unit under Drake’s name.

But things don’t go as planned and a man is killed during the robbery. While it was an accident, it occurred during the commission of a felony. That can carry the death penalty. When Ginnie finds she could be tried for capital murder, she decides she will not be caught, whatever that takes.

Ginnie has stepped over the line, and the slope on the other side is slippery. Each thing she does makes the slope steeper and slipperier. Now, she will do whatever it takes to avoid being caught. Anyone she perceives threatens her freedom will pay dearly.

Political Dirty Trick follows Ginnie’s progress on the slippery slope. Crystal Moore, the protagonist, is just trying to help her friend, Ron Drake. But that puts her on a collision path with Ginnie.

Political Dirty Trick, A Crystal Moore Suspense, Book #3, is available on Kindle now at:   https://amzn.to/2pIHMqs. Next week it will be available in paperback, with the hardcover version following a week later.

I’d love to hear your comments on the slippery slope and how a person might get caught on it.  Thanks. And I’ll select one who leaves a comment and send them a copy of Political Dirty Trick.

Bloom Where You Are Planted

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Our guest today is Lynn Hobbs. She is an award-winning authorof inspirational Christian fiction and biographies.  Each book in her first series, Running Forward, a powerful faith and family saga, won first place for Religious fiction in the Texas Association … Continue reading

Attacked!

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Today’s guest is Ada Brownell, author of six books and hundreds of stories and articles. When she sat down to write her latest book, The Peach Blossom Rancher, she drew from her experiences growing up in Colorado’s Peach Country near Grand Junction, picking peaches … Continue reading

An “Aha” Moment

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Today, Gay Ingram gives us an interesting post on those little moments of joy that pop up ever so often for a writer.  Gay is a multi-published award-winning writer.  She writes both fiction and non-fiction for both adults and young adults.  … Continue reading