Paddy's Wanderings

The Transporter Tale

Way back in the Roaring Nineties when the bigger brothers were just wee lads, better 1/2 and I saved and saved for Christmas. We had a few extra bucks, Santa knew the boys had been good, and all of us were huge Star Trek fans.We were excited, we had found the coolest present.

The boys, and their crazy parents, had been collecting the action figures and even had an Enterprise. This year the boys had asked Santa for phasers and tricorders, and I was pretty sure Santa was gonna come through. Like I said, we had saved some extra cash so we splurged on a transporter. It was the cool present.

Hello people. It made the cool transporter swoosh sound, the lights flashed and with the flick of magic, your action figure transported. Whoo hoo! I loved it and could not wait to play with it.. I mean have the kids play with it. This was gonna be cool. Apparently. someone, somewhere, forgot to tell the kiddos that it was a toy!

Well it was cool, for about an hour. Then they figured out it was not real and could not 'really' transport things. The little.. devils.. tested it out and figured out it was just a mirror with light and sound and it did not transport anything, anywhere. They said Dad, this toy is stupid and fake. I knew how it worked, but how in the world did a five and six year old figure it out? They got an hour of play and that was it.

Well then, not to be outdone by the children, I showed them how to transport Captain Picard and they laughed at me. Oh Dad, your silly, he doesn't go anywhere. I had to ask, I just had to ask. My two small boys sat there and showed me just how it was fake and how they could not transport their hand or anything else, it was not real. They had figured it out.

I'll admit, I was impressed with their ability to figure it out. i was sad too. Oh not because we had spent so much on a toy that the cool factor lasted only an hour, but because my little boys did not seem so little anymore. i just never wanted them to lose their sense of wonder, and that day, they did, just a little bit.

The good thing is, that even after all of these years, they still retain a bit of wonder at things, and to me, that is important. That is something you should never lose. In fact, I think you should cultivate that, it is a spice that makes life fun.When you wander, it is important to wonder.

Changing the Game

I have been thinking about technology again. With the release of the iPad by Apple, it got me thinking again about technology and the changes that bring it about and what technology changes. With the advent of eBooks and now Apple getting into the game, the publishing world is going to change fast. I really think it will, just like the music industry changed. I believe Apple has that kind of influence and that kind of innovation that changes society. Is that good? I don't know, but the iPad will change things, of that, I am sure.

You know, the speed of change is breath taking, and now I sound old. Maybe being older is recognizing that life is all about change, maybe I am just strange. Some days, I have that whole, get off my lawn you retched kids mentality. Other days, I am giddy with all the new, shiny tech. Maybe I should just ride the wave, enjoy the show. Sometimes, I rebel and say screw it and put the radio on an am station. But the new tech, like eReaders and all of that, is just too cool

When I was a wee lad, reading about Frank and Joe and solving mysteries, I would write stories with a pencil and paper. I would put the radio on an am station, listen to the Tigers. There is nothing like listening to a baseball game on the radio, it is just one of my things. Then I got an electric typewriter and I punched away on the keys, writing school papers and if I was lucky, writing about rocket ships and laser guns with cool aliens. Then, much to my dismay, I grew up. Life does that to you.

When I was in college, I was tip tapping away on a computer keyboard, doing school papers and on occasion, writing the fun stuff. Compact discs were out and I love CD's, so much easier to transport then vinyl, better sound quality too. With a CD, if they don't remix it, you can sometimes here the background noise from the recording that you could miss on vinyl. Ahhhh, technology. So I had MTV on the tele or a cd playing, ensconced in front of the monitor.

At the end of the college era, I met better 1/2 and used pen and napkins to scribble poetry on at lunch time, to give to her. I had upgraded, sort of. I still bought huge hard back books, still got most of my entertainment from a source other then the 'puter, and life was grand. I had upgraded to using a 'puter to write, so in reality, I haven't scribbled a line of prose or poetry in a very long time. Well, that is not entirely true, I do have a few napkins around from lunch time at work. If I got a good idea munching a sandwich, well I used whatever was at hand. It still works.

Now I listen to music, watch music videos, movies and even television on the 'puter. I play games, read the newspaper even, all on this box in front of me. Is that good? In some ways yes, some ways no. The exponential explosion of information can be a good thing. But I do miss going out and digging the newspaper out of a puddle, shaking a fist at the paper boy and deciphering the Sunday morning comics. I miss the poor reception television of my youth, when the man of the house was an expert rabbit ear arranger. I miss static filled baseball games on the radio because the weather was poor. If the cable modem goes down, I'll shake a fist at the cable guy, but it feels.. hollow.

I love the new stuff, the ease of use, the accessibility of what ever you wander into. That is what makes the new stuff, like the eBook, the iPad and all that jazz so cool. But, and of course there is always a but, it feels too easy. That is where the trouble lies, my fellow wanders. If technology makes everything easier, where is the satisfaction you garner from working, and I mean working to tune in a Televison or radio, to having to hold a massive tome while reading. Sometimes, easy is not always better.

Being of a dual nature, I will get the new tech, get more eBooks and probably an iPad, but see I have an advantage. I do remember the stone age, when you had to work for your entertainment, work hard to pay for your leisure, even I dare say, work hard at your leisure. I am cautiously excited, and being adventurous(sometimes) I'll give it a go. I wander if the iPad and the old creek can see eye to eye? I may just have to find out.

Balance wanderers, balance.

Remembering Today

Today is the anniversary of the Challenger disaster. Back in 1986 I was in college, at the University of Tennessee in Knoxville and just your average college kid. I was and still am a space nut, and that day was launch day for the shuttle. I never missed a shuttle launch if I could help it, nor a landing either. College life, if anything, made me more of a space enthusiast. So I rushed back to the dorm room to catch the launch between classes.

That day was horrifying. I still remember it like it was yesterday. I was shocked and I just sat there, tears dropping into my lap when my room mate came in and freaked. I mean, tough guy Paddy crying in front of the T.V.? Then he looked at the screen, sat down and joined me. It was a tough day for the families of the astronauts, a tough day for NASA and for two college kids in love with space, it was heartbreaking.

To reach to the stars is the dream. People risk everything for just a chance to pass the clouds, to leave our little planet, to explore the big beyond. Celebrate their triumphs, pick them up when they fall, and always, always stand by those people who would dare to reach for the stars. Today is day to remember not only the crew of Challenger, but their families, their fellow explorers, and all who make the dream a reality.

Someday my friends, we will all get a chance to wander to the stars. When we do, remember all those heroes who blazed a trail through the sky. I will.

The Continuing Story of Mr. Piddles

And there he is, in all his glory. That's right game fans, Mr. Piddles has hacked the wandering blog. I can't go anywhere without this gnome following me, not even in my own blog. Well.. it was bound to happen sooner or later, so let's get it over with, shall we??

Mr. Piddles is a bit of a wandering gnome, and often dresses for the occasion. In the above picture, it was apparently cowboy day at the old store. To know the mind of Mr. Piddles is to shake, rattle and roll. I remember when he first showed up one day in the midst of a warhammer campaign I was running. There he was, shootin' from the hip, doggin' everyone's footsteps. He has stuck around since then. For the longest time, he sat on the front counter, surveying his gaming kingdom. Today he sits by my T.V. at the foot of the bed.

He is a bit of a saucy gnome, and a prankster of the highest order. I believe that is why he has showed up here, to torment us all. But hey, that's okay, he is pretty fun. He also holds the title of Official Mascot of Paddy's Heroes. Along with the Oggity-Boggity Stick, he is one of our fun loving, game playing tokens of jocularity. And that, my wandering friends, is about all the introduction he needs. Sit back, laugh, and enjoy the show, cause Piddles the Prankster is in da house!

A Rose in the Rain

A couple of months ago, way back in November, I entered a Flash Fiction Contest being held at jenniferhudock.com. The idea was to submit a short story, less then 500 words about relationships and you can win prizes. Jennifer is friends with Angelo Bell, writer, director and producer of the film The Broken Hearts Club. As a way to cross promote each others work, they had a contest and folks sent in their flash fic pieces. They got a couple of folks to judge and voila! contest. How could I not enter? I love contests!

So in the midst of NaNoWriMo, I edited and edited and fretted over this little short story I had floating around until just before the November 15th deadline to enter, I said enough tinkering and sent it off. I was in the clutches of novel writing month, lost in my own little world. Then I clicked over to listen to Goblin Market and heard I had won. No way. I had a few windows open, one being twitter, and sent a message off to make sure that I heard correctly. I did indeed.

So I won a DVD of The Broken Hearts Club and Angelo Bell mailed it to me, which was cool on his part, and I got to see the film. Better 1/2 and I set down and with snacks in hand, and watched the movie. It was very good, excellent writing. Who says independent films are icky? This film is good and I hope it brings Angelo much success, he is obviously very talented. And I also got an 'in' to James Melzer's The Zombie Chronicles:Invasion, which is a very cool podcast novel following TZC:Escape. You can check out James' stuff here. I'll be doing a 'surf' blog piece about this cool site soon, check it out!

So I have a short fiction piece about relationships and it won a contest. I am pleased as punch. Even a couple of months later it is kinda hard to wrap myself around that. It was fun and cool and I would do it again regardless of winning or not. The fun part is the writing and the stewing and the fretting in the creative process. Winning is just icing on the big cake. So I have this story with no where to go and I thought hey! I will foist it on the blog readers. Without any further ado, here it is..

A Rose in the Rain


I pitched my fourth cigarette into the gutter and looked at my watch. The bus was fifteen minutes late. I look up at the dark clouds ascold raindrops hit my face, and stand up. Pulling up my collar ,I paced over to the lamp post and blew on my hands. The cool November day was turning wet and cold.

I had been waiting for this day since early September. That was the day Angie left for college and promised to be home on Thanksgiving. The short, expensive phone calls and the daily letters stopped after a few weeks and then it was just a quick hello. She was busy, always in a hurry. I understood, I was trying to make the grade at home so I could join her in January.

I open my jacket, the rose was safe and warm, and take out another cigarette and light it. Blowing smoke through my hands to warm them, I looked back down the road. I could see the bus heading my way through the thickening rain. I stamped my feet, wishing I had thought to bring an umbrella, feeling I should have come prepared for the day.

As the bus slows to a stop in front of me, I try to peak through the steamed up windows. The door opens and a few people walk out, hurrying to waiting family and loved ones. I search every face, looking for her as I reach in my coat for the rose. The bus driver jerks his head toward the back and I can hear one final set of footsteps .

Angie's best friend in high school and her college roommate, Ann, walks out and sees me standing there, holding the dripping rose, and sighs. I look around her into the doorway as the driver closes the door. I take a step back as the bus pulls away from the curb, the thick smell of exhaust swirling around me. I look over at Ann standing there, the cigarette falling from my fingers.

'She is not coming back,' Ann says, 'not ever'.

Ann hands a letter to me, addressed in Angie's bold hand writing. I watch her walk away then look down, the rose slipping from my shaking hand. I open the letter and as I read, I let the tears and the rain wash away her words.

Surfing Goblin Market

Good day my fellow Wanderers. I have been doing some pretty heavy surfing of the 'net over the past year, searching for all kinds of things. Every once in awhile, I catch a wave right into something pretty darn cool. Then, I just have to explore and check it out for myself. This is one place that I found, and I have stuck around since. Let me introduce you to Jennifer Hudock and her podcast novel Goblin Market.

You say podcast? Why yes I do. Now I know most folks have tinkered around listening to podcasts here and there and maybe explored the vast amounts of stuff out there. I have tinkered myself with a listen or three over the years. But alas, I live under a rock, because for the most part, I had no idea of the wealth of novels that folks have podcasted. There is a bunch of awesome stuff out there.

Goblin Market was the first novel I listened too, I came in at episode 6, backtracked to the beginning and have been listening ever since. Episode 17 was just released. I got hooked on the story, that simple. And now you ask, so whats it all about? Well it is dark fantasy and your heroine is Meredith and she sets out on a quest to save her sister. Sounds simple, but of course, it is much more then that. But you don't need me to tell you, go to the website.

I am sure that if you give the story a try, listen to a few episodes, you will become hooked like I did. As a matter of fact, as I write this humble blog piece, I am listening to the first few episodes again. So break out of your box oh wanderer, take a moment, and lend an ear. If your fortunate, the first bite of goblin fruit will transport you from the market into the adventure. You'll be thankful that you did.

Novel-Tone News Jan Update

Welcome back to the..Project.

The past couple of weeks I have been wrestling with a few issues regarding the story. Nothing major in the story line mind you, just personal goals and ideas I set when I started this whole journey. I have read more then my fair share of fantasy and for that matter, novels of all hues, over the years. Starting out on this particular project, I had a few ideas of how I wanted to tell this story. Oh sure, I have started and stopped many a time on many different ideas, but this one was always there and I wanted it to stand out, be the best I can do. In that vein, I set up some parameters. In no particular order, here we go.

The inevitable map. It seems like just about every fantasy novel I have ever read involved a map. I don't want a map, and yet, I have one. I like maps, sure, and in most fantasy books, I have liked the map, but I just don't want one. The story does involve the characters traveling, but that, in and of itself, is not what the story is about. I don't think the reader needs a map to figure out where the characters are going or where they have been. I have a map for my own personal reference and to help me with plot points and when I am done, that baby is going to the back of the closet.

The standard prologue, epilogue any old kind of logue. I had thought, way back when, that the beginning of the story would be a prologue, then start chapter one with a gathering of characters. That seems to be not working and it goes against the grain of no prologue. So I made it chapter one, because, well, it starts off with a good bang and I don't need a story before the story starts. The story starts with the bang, what happened before will become apparent to the reader later on in the story. And also, when the story is done, it is done, no need for anything else. So no logue of any kind will be used if I can help it.

The inevitable trilogy. You read fantasy and say, oh, when are books two and three coming out, I hate waiting for the whole story and I'll buy em all when all the books are released. I am still waiting for a few series to end to finish buying and reading the books. I don't like that. Now if we are talking stand alone books and then sequels come along or stuff like that, well then, that is okay, as long as each book is a story unto itself. I'll tell ya right now fantasy fans, this is a one book deal. Your gonna get the whole story in one shot. That is the goal.

I have read a bunch in my life and frankly, I want something a bit new, a bit different, in my fantasy. There are some good books out there right now that break the mold and I say huzzah. Then there are others who are still traveling the same ground. I am following my own path, and I will try to avoid the traps and pitfalls that ensnare the unwary wanderer. It is kinda like flying into the wind, but if I can angle my wings just right, I may just reach above the clouds.

The end is just the beginning..

The Creature Corner and That Girl

Back in the Hazy Eighties I met this girl. She wasn't just any girl either. As fortune and fate would have it, I was taking some college courses at the local community college, just trying to get some credits and do my thing. A few friends of mine were taking classes and they talked me in to going down to the cafeteria and hanging out. Now I don't mind hanging out, and really I had nothing else to do, but I was reluctant because my over riding thoughts had centered around heading back to Knoxville and back to the big school. My plan was to get all the messy details sorted, and go back and get a masters in English. Well that day was the beginning of some major changes.

With my dark shades, black leather coat and cowboy boots, and half Yankee, half East Tennessee drawl, I wandered down in to the cafeteria. There was a large group of folks who had pushed together several tables in one corner, all chatting, playing cards and being, to put it bluntly, nerdy. I stood in line, bought a cheeseburger, fries and coke and set down. The Tim was there, and being the social butterfly he is, introduced me to everyone, then informed me there would be a quiz later. At that point, I had joined the Creature Corner. I haven't been the same since.

Now the corner was the place to be, it really was. All the preppy kids and their dumb jock friends and the popular kids from their assorted high schools stayed together and avoided the corner. The corner had D&D playin', Commodore 64 packing, geekoids of the highest order. We are talking late eighties geekdom, where conversation ranged from building computers to the latest RPG. This was a group, if I may so myself, of highly intelligent, introverted people, who as luck would have it, had banded together into their very own group. After a couple of days, I was hooked.

Back to the girl. I was playing cards a couple of afternoons later, feeling restless and bored. The band was going nowhere and my bass playing days seemed numbered. My literary endeavors were mired in a sink hole and I was feeling pretty much lost. I was partied out, tired of chasing girls and, to put it mildly, tired of pretty much everything. In walked the girl. A couple of friends of mine had befriended this young lass and had invited her down to the Corner. Why she agreed is a mystery, but it may be she was a bit bored with her boyfriend and, like all of us in the corner, needed to find some real people to hang out with, I don't know.

She sat down, and she could play cards, no doubt about it. Then The Tim made some smart ass comment, as he is wont to do, and she zinged him. Okay then, card playing girl with razor wit, and not bad looking either. I think the fog I was in lifted a pinch that day. Amazingly enough, she came back the next day. The Tim, being his usual charmingly funny self, with razor wit in hand, waited for her to take a drink and zing! got her to snort coke out her nose. She was not embarrassed. Not only that but she gave it right back. I also noticed she actually ate in front of us, unlike so many other young ladies of the day. She also talked just like us, liked computers and conned us into letting her play a session in our D&D group. The fog lifted a bit more.

A couple of weeks later, she was going out with a bunch of friends and celebrating her birthday by bowling a few frames. I was invited along. I dug out ye olde bowling bowl, dusted it off and joined the group. That girl and I kept score, apparently the only two capable of such a feat. We chatted and bowled and dude! she was a Scorpio too. As a matter of fact, our birthdays are four days apart. That was pretty fun and time flies ya know.

Next thing you know, I am taking this other girl to this Christmas party a friend is throwing. She shows up with a new friend. We sat at the kitchen table and talked all night long to the exclusion of our 'dates'. That was very cool. She still had that 'other friend' and I was dodging my 'friend' and then I went to L.A. with my parents over the holidays to visit my brother. That was the worse Sheeple trip ever. I did send that girl a postcard, and I borrowed a couple of books from her for the trip, yeah she liked to read more then me. I still wanted get back home.

I got back and school is starting and that first day, down in the cafeteria, in she walks wearing a business suit for a class. It was the gray skirt. I formally asked her out on a date. I then stood her up, as I am still in a fog. She called me the next day and we talked until the batteries died on the phone and she gave me a second chance to take her out. This time, I got with it, the fog finally lifted completely, and I showed up early and was a good date. Must have been. That was over twenty two years ago. Today, it is official. Today is the twenty second anniversary.

That girl is better 1/2.

Rambling Research

Today I am just rambling along, riding the flu bug. After three days of feeling like a train hit me, I think I see the end of the tunnel, well at least a bright light. It is the inevitable January bug, the kind that visits about every time this year and slows me down and ruins all my fun. Have I ever mentioned that January is my least favorite month? If could spend January somewhere warm where the sun actually shines and the temperature is at least fifty, I would be glad. I will say this, January does make me appreciate the rest of the year more.

The ups and downs of internal body temperature tend to make me a little weird, more then normal that is, and the past few days have been no exception. You see, in my non-work endeavors of fancying myself a writer, I have hit a stone wall. Normally, as in every other time this has happened, I have hid my head in the blanket. This time around it has slowed me down, way down, but I have not stopped. I am doing the old stick and move thing, keep the feet moving. It just may be working.

One of the things that gives me great joy is research. I probably should have become a scientist or gone into some field of work that involves a heavy amount of research. I did not. That small fact has not stopped me in the least, and with the power of the 'net, I research all kinds of odd things to my hearts content. And so, in my quest for knowledge about just about anything, that is what I have been doing. I have used this in a manner most constructive to my stories at hand.

In one story, I use a surfing term and terminology revolving around the ocean. It is also a bit of cyberpunk, a bit of film noir. No, really. So I researched surfing terms while watching old movies on TCM, strange but true. Another involves Mars and stone circles, you can see where that leads. The biggest problem is the..Project. That I would research a fantasy story set in a make believe world seems a bit off base, but there it is.

I do love old movies and surfing all kinds of neat stuff on the 'net. That is what I have been doing the past week. Some of my wanderings have actually helped. Some of the stories moved on and fleshed out and that is good. I learned something new and entertained myself. We'll see where it leads. That is the point of writing this in a blog, to remember and to catalog the crazy road. Moving forward, that is the goal. And really, is that not the goal in everything?

Paddy's Poetry Corner (Special Guest-Jan)

Welcome back to the Corner. Today I would like to introduce you to Josh Crummer, give him a warm, finger snapping welcome. I have known Josh since he was a wee lad and he has the writer bug. Specifically, the poet bug and he writes some fine poetry. While Josh is enjoying the college life, he does sneak in a poem or two and I have been reading his stuff for awhile. Today we have one of his selections to share with everyone so sit back and enjoy. The stool is over there Josh, in the corner. Que the spotlight, get out the bongos, here we go.

Excavation (Zilwaukee School Playground II)

Nature no longer has a home here---
every patch of green becomes shredded
dirt and clay as excavation progresses;
Dinosaurs of steel not found in any science
book drag their feet, their tracks disguised as
shallow trenches of freeze-dried mud.
They hibernate on a old baseball diamond turned
sand. It once teemed with life as children
played soccer. It will soon become a parking lot.

The sky doesn't look open anymore---
it looks empty. Snow leaks like the last drops
of sand from a nearby sandbox stacked and
splintered. Gaudy stone and rust rubble make
their own piles under bride-veil snow like
a cancer, gray swing sets once colorful contort
defeated and wrapped around a telephone
pole, leaned next to poles once used
for tetherball. A tree once a tree lays fallen like a
dissected giant, pieces in piles to cremate.
The only bright color left is a new red fire
hydrant not yet acquainted with a dog.

A small courtyard nestled in a small corner
sits surrounded by fence after snow fence,
as if pre-packaged nature could make us
feel better. However its stone pots and benches
transforms courtyard to crypt, the bodies interred
our childhood. Silence at a battleground is more
haunting than the battle itself, and not even ghosts
of our childhood linger anymore.

Bio: Josh Crummer is a poet originally hailing from Zilwaukee, Michigan. What originally started as scribblings in the classroom began to mature in college, where he currently resides as a student. Today, he writes reflectively remembering his hometown. Influences include his peers and old friends, including Rev. Dr. Joel Lewis, Matthew Falk, Betsy Roberson, Shiloh Slaughter, and Paddy himself.  He currently resides in Freeland, Michigan and is working towards a Ph.D in English.