Monthly Archives: February 2011
He knew I was coming; he could see me and watch me at his whim. When I arrived, he looked at me hard. He was not worried about me, and not scared. He was not amazed, nor was he startled. He was not warm or inviting. Like the rocks around him, he just was.
He nodded slightly to me, inviting me to follow; he turned and went into his home. The door was old, once red, but the paint worn and faded. In many placed the paint was completely worn through to the wood beneath. But the door was thick and solid. It would have to be to seal off the home from the ravages of the sand storms it was there to buttress against. Continue reading
Who is Dave Koch? At one time, I was a journalist. I cared about being accurate, and playing by the rules. Ian Murphy is neither. The ends do not justify the means in this instance. There was no earth-shattering facts developed from Mr. Murphy’s deception, nothing Mr. Walker said (or was deceived into saying) justify Mr. Murphy lying, underhanded trickery. When you listen to the phone call, there were no wild surprises, nothing worth publishing, much less lowering your professional standards to the level Mr. Murphy did. All he succeeded in doing was creating more discord and disagreement between two parties that are at each other’s throats. Continue reading
The trek was proving harder than I thought. The ground was a viscous mud that held tightly to my shoes, stretching with me and pulling me back. The air was thick, so thick it also was keeping me from moving forward almost as much as the mud. Don’t get me wrong, I could make forward progress, it was just a lot of work for very little gain.
The light was waning, and time was getting late, so when the Magic Bus showed up, I hopped right on. I was in the front row, and had a great view out the huge windows. The bus filled up and we started to move; I felt sorry for the people we were passing, that had to trudge through the mud. Continue reading
We never felt the need to venture out to the bars; the Guns brought their own bar into Denny’s with them. They did not need to prowl Oliver Twists or the Hideout, or ogle the girls at TD’s. They just needed to let their hair down and relax. They played at being characters all day, they needed the time and space to be themselves at night.
And so Mitch, Bob and I traded with the Guns, for a few hours at a time, every couple of nights. We all got to feel important, we played at being famous, and the Guns got to be ordinary. We had the times of our lives, and they got the come-down they needed. Continue reading
When you get to the other end of town, outside the town proper and past the furthest reach of the shadows of the giant oaks, the sky opens up and the buildings fall away. But you are still not safe; in fact, you are in more jeopardy here. The broad horizons make you feel you are safely out of the grip of the town, but Wellington has one last surprise for you. Continue reading
Paralleling the rise of the road above the floor was a wooded framework, not yet finished out. This was a temporary structure– a simple wooden scaffolding– that would be used to position camera and crew off the set but in a proper position to capture performances at the correct level. The treads across this scaffolding could easily be removed, and the basic structure blended right in to the set itself. This allowed the director to shoot wide shots from anywhere he wanted. Continue reading
The machine was now under its own power, and I could let up on the starter. The sharp quivers of the start-up faded away into a smooth, soothing hum as the main motors came online. Lisa was already in the captain’s chair, ready to fly us out. And perhaps that was a little dishonest, taking our ship like this. But there was no one to check out with. And it was part of our original deal here.… we had not pawned our flying saucer, just sort of lent it to him. Continue reading