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The Two Best/Worst Words In Sports

Today, April 7 is a day I’ve been waiting on for six months. Since October 3, actually, so six months and 4 days. That was the last day that of the Mariners 2021 season. They played Th eLA Angels and and lost 7-3 to finish the season at 90-72. Not a bad record, but not good enough to make the playoffs. The Mariners have not made the playoffs in over 20 years.

But, I was patient. When the season ends, Mariners fans know to look forward to the next Spring, when once again they can root on the M’s for another season.

Of course, the season was supposed to start March 31. But, there was a labor dispute that pushed back the start of the season. But, I was patient. Spring Training started late. But, it started.

Most of my friends don’t understand how much of a fan I am. I download the Mariners schedule. I load it into my online calendar. . .twice.

I watch virtually every game. I plan my activities around the schedule.

So, today was exciting. After so many weeks and months, today was finally the day.

The two most exciting words in sports:

Play Ball (or Opening Day)

The first pitch was 2:10pm MDT. I had a meeting, but I could put the game on in the background.

And then, this. After after all the waiting.

Seattle mariners Minnesota twins postponed

The game was postponed

Rain

Seattle is known for rain, right? It’s not unusual for a game to be affected by rain.

Except this game isn’t being played in Seattle. It’s in Minneapolis. In fact, had the game have been in Seattle, it would have been played today. Seattle’s stadium, T-Mobile Park, has a retractable roof.

So, after waiting for six months, I must wait one more day.

At least the Mariners are undefeated after the first day of teh season.

Stay safe

Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren. Order Miscellany II, an anthology including his latest short story, “The Mercy System” here

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(c) 2022 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved

But, Why Is He Black?

I pointed out he was black because I didn’t want you to think he was white.

This post may be a somewhat controversial. I just finished writing a story called “Timewave,” about an associate college professor who’s convinced he’s found evidence of time travelers. I described my protagonist as “a 27 year old black man.”

I’ve now sent the story out to beta readers and some of the responses were, “You mentioned that he’s black, but race doesn’t seem to figure into the story. Why point out his race?”

Honestly, I described him as black because if I didn’t most readers would assume he was white.

I love to read the police blotter. Especially in small towns. I’ve noticed that the only time the race of a suspect is mentioned is if he (or she) is a minority, even if race had nothing to do with the crime.

“Two youths were stopped for prowling cars.” (It’s assumed they were white.)

“Two black youths were arrested for shoplifting.”

I never noticed it until it was pointed out to me. Several of my children are minorities. I now notice it.

So, in my story, I pointed out that the main character was black, because I want the reader to have a picture of a black man while reading the story.

To my friends who are writers, how do you handle choosing the race of your characters? I’d love to hear if you go through a specific process.

For other readers, if the writer doesn’t mention race, do you make an assumption? If the writer points out the race do you expect that to figure into the story?

Stay safe

Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren. Order Miscellany II, an anthology including his latest short story, “The Mercy System” here

Follow him on
Twitter (@rodneymbliss)
Facebook (www.facebook.com/rbliss)
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com

(c) 2022 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved

Timewave: Wanna read the rest? (Become A Beta Reader!)

This is the opening scene from a shortstory I’m working on for a writing contest. Give it a read. If you are interested in reading the rest of it, send me an email or reach out to me on social media, or leave a comment. I’m looking for Beta Readers.

Raucous laughter rolled throughout the lecture hall. Gabe felt his stomach tighten and his sweaty palms made it difficult to hold his redundant red pen. He was here to present a radical, some would say laughable, theory.

But, the laughter wasn’t any more palatable for Gabe having expected it. Despite the audience being filled with PhDs, he half expected them to start throwing things across the lecture hall. The Convention Center had a strict no food or drinks in the auditorium policy. So at least the threat of being pelted with rotten vegetables was off the table.

At twenty-nine years old, Dr. Gabriel Vernon was one of the youngest attendees at the prestigious anthropology conference on origins of Early Man. He was by far the youngest presenter. And he was one of the few black men at the conference.

His innocuously titled “Novel Approach To Early Tool Development

Among pre-Filipino Negritos People” would have normally attracted only a handful of older academics. But, somehow a copy of his unpublished paper had been leaked and as a result the auditorium was packed. And rather than a few nodding sycophants he was faced with a rowdy crowd of doubters.

“Dr. Vernon,” a voice called from the third row. Questions were supposed to be at the end, but Gabe was pretty sure he wasn’t going to get to his numerous slides with their carefully researched data trends. “Are you saying that it was little green men who taught the Negrito people to make fishhooks?” More laughter filled the hall.

“No, there is zero evidence that early man was visited by extra-terrestrials. The records in Egypt and Mesoamerica clearly show. . .” he got no further before being interrupted by the same questioner. “So, what was it then?”

The auditorium fell silent. The laughter evaporated as Gabe felt the weight of five hundred pairs of eyes on him. He paused to take a deep breath. “My research indicates it was,” Gabe unsuccessfully willed himself to silence, “a traveler – a time traveler.”

The room again erupted into laughter. Several shouted questions were lost in the resulting din. “Thank you for your attention,” Gabe mumbled as he surrendered and quickly retreated to the safety of the prep room behind the stage. He immediately collapsed in a chair his head buried in his hands. It could not have gone worse.

“Dr. Vernon?” With a start Gabe jerked his head up. He hadn’t heard the door open. His questioner was a typical conference attendee. He had the undecipherable look typical of middle-aged black men. He could have been anywhere from thirty to sixty years old. He wore the classic corduroy jacket with leather elbow patches. He had the ubiquitous lanyard and conference badge dangling from around his neck.

“Can I help you?” Gabe’s tone indicated that the subtext was “go way before I do you bodily harm.” The stranger seemed oblivious to the electrified third rail he was about to touch.

“I wonder if I might ask you a few questions about your research?”

“You guys are too much. You didn’t get enough laughs out there? You gotta chase after me and keep it up?” Gabe rarely let his temper get away from him, but he could feel the anger rising. The stranger, finally cluing into Gabe’s state, said, “No, you don’t understand.”

“I understand just fine. I’m young, but I’m not stupid. Now if you’ll excuse me, the question period is over!”

Grabbing his messenger bag, Gabe exited through the second door out into the hallway leaving the stranger in confused silence.

Gabe decided he’d had enough of the conference. He really should stay. Perhaps if he met individually with some of the other researchers that had been friends with his doctoral advisor, Dr. Hetzel.

Gabe slammed open the crash bar as he headed for the parking lot. The asphalt was already heating up in the Colorado summer sun. Approaching a discarded Pepsi can he lined up and remembering to keep his knee over his ankle launched it across the parking lot barely missing a silver grey Mercedes. He’d played forward through high school. Simpler times.

Originally, he had planned to attend the conference together with his mentor. Dr. Hetzel, a well-respected and longtime researcher, had promised to introduce him to sympathetic researchers. They knew it would be a controversial presentation. But, with Dr. Hetzel’s guidance he had believed he could get enough reviewers to give it a fair hearing.

All that had changed four months ago when Dr. Hetzel had passed away from pneumonia brought on by cancer treatments. Gabe had believed he could still make it work. The benefit of being young and naïve.

Gabe dumped his bag into the backseat of his 1966 Mustang fastback. The car had been a graduation present. Bits of rust around the wheel wells attested to the severity of the Colorado winters. As he pulled out of the parking lot to start the hundred-mile drive back to Colorado Springs, his thoughts turned to his former friend and mentor and how disappointed he would feel.

As the cobalt blue Mustang exited the parking lot, Gabe failed to notice a black man in a corduroy jacket standing just outside the convention center doors watching him leave. . .

 

Feel free to reach out if you’d like to be a beta reader.

Stay safe

Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren. Order Miscellany II, an anthology including his latest short story, “The Mercy System” here

Follow him on
Twitter (@rodneymbliss)
Facebook (www.facebook.com/rbliss)
LinkedIn (www.LinkedIn.com/in/rbliss)
or email him at rbliss at msn dot com

(c) 2022 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved

Liar, Liar! (Utah’s Version)

I hung out with a bunch of liars tonight. I not only told them they were liars I helped judge which of the six was the best liar.

Angelus theater site of Utah's biggest liars competition

Hanging out with liars

The Utah’s Biggest Liar competition is a long running contest that I’m proud to have been involved with for many years.

The premise is simple. You have six minutes to tell your best lie. There are rules, but mostly, you just make stuff up.

Stephen gassler

Steven Gassler was the MC and came equipped with plenty of dad jokes

Steven Gassler is the current director of the competition. He’s a previous winner and he asked me to be a judge this year.

Liars. . And winners

The winners with Steven

Lynn Wing (far left) was voted Utah’s Biggest Liar for 2022.

Glade's drive in Spanish fork utah

Their super cheeseburgers are delicious, but the special sauce is the real draw

The competition was in Spanish Fork, Utah. That gave me an excellent excuse to attend one of the best hamburg joints in all of Utah. Glade’s Drive in has been a fixture on the corner of 300 South and Main Street for generations.

There are much worse choices than hanging out with a bunch of liars on a Monday night in Utah.

And that’s no lie.

Stay safe

Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren. Order Miscellany II, an anthology including his latest short story, “The Mercy System” here

Follow him on
Twitter (@rodneymbliss)
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com

(c) 2022 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved

Fantasy Or Reality?

A friend posted this question:

Which is easier to write, reality based fiction or fantasy?

People made arguments for both sides.

Those arguing for Fantasy had a good point. In Fantasy, you get to just make stuff up. You don’t have to be bound by the limits of reality. The entire genre is created out of the author’s head. You can “world build” as much as want.

I think that’s one of the weaknesses of Fantasy as well. We fall in love with fantasy worlds, or really any world in literature through the details. Think about Harry Potter. The movie staircases don’t really add to the story. They are just a unique. . .fantastical. . .detail. In The Hobbit, we are introduced to dragons and orcs, trolls and dwarves. And yet, the issue of Bilbo’s handkerchiefs is an important detail because it helps make him more relatable and interesting. Even Lord of The Rings has bits of detail that make the story so much more interesting.

And in Fantasy, you have to come up with those details. Your world building has to be both big and small. My friend Dave explained how even magic has to make sense. If your magic system doesn’t have a cost, your story will be weak.

Details. Details. Details.

You have to have details in reality based fiction also, of course. Or, even reality based science fiction. As a writer you must include the details. But, the difference is that with reality based writing the details are already there. You just have to choose which ones to include. Like dust. Dust gets everywhere. Occasionally, dust will figure into the plot of a story. But, most often if dust is mentioned, it’s a detail to make the world seem more real.

It seems like dust doesn’t figure much into fantasy stories. Think about it, open flames, drafty castles, there’s bound to be lots of dust. But, it rarely gets mentioned. I guess Cinderella would be an exception, although her work to get rid of dust is kind of a plot point. And we have Peter Pan’s pixie dust that let’s you fly. But, just regular dust? We don’t get much of that.

Most of my writing is reality based science fiction. I get to pull my details from the real world. But, I also have an entire world that is based on people being deaf. . .and the world having no metal. It’s science fiction but has the same issue as fantasy.

Neither one is easier or harder in my opinion. It’s about the author. The author constructs a story around a central conflict. And wether reality based or completely made up, the elements of a good story remain the same.

But just because there’s no right answer doesn’t mean that authors won’t argue about it. (Have you heard the one about the Oxford comma?)

Stay safe

Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren. Order Miscellany II, an anthology including his latest short story, “The Mercy System” here

Follow him on
Twitter (@rodneymbliss)
Facebook (www.facebook.com/rbliss)
LinkedIn (www.LinkedIn.com/in/rbliss)
or email him at rbliss at msn dot com

(c) 2022 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved

I Wish I Hadn’t Gone Back

Once you’ve said goodbye, you should really not go back.

I had said my goodbyes. I’d even documented it, or actually paid someone to document it. And now, I went back. I hadn’t intended to.

It was the fault of my friend Cory. Cory wanted to take the safe. And he needed a bunch of help to move it from the basement to the back of his truck.

None of us are sure what’s IN the safe. It hasn’t been opened in years. It will probably be nothing.

My Masonic lodge voted to sell our building. Today was the last day we were there. Our last business meeting was earlier this month. I’m the chaplain. I wrote very deliberate prayers for that day. I also hired a photographer to come and take lots of pictures. Our previous meeting locations weren’t documented. I resolved not to let that happen.

I’m also on the historic committee. All the records ended up at my house.

Anyway, there was this big safe in the basement. It probably weighed 800 lbs. We had to get it up the stairs and then into his truck. Lots of men and a handful of straps got the job done.

But, it also got me back into the empty lodge building. The chairs are all gone. All but four or five. The alter is gone. The pillars. The ashers. Nearly everything.

There were a few items I wanted to take. Some flags. A few books. A container of poker chips. A picture of all the presidents who were masons up through Franklin Roosevelt. (Gerald Ford was a Mason, but our picture is prior to that.)

And then we sat around the empty lodge room.

I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want my last memory of Story Lodge #4 to be a hollowed out building that was going to be handed over to someone else.

You can’t always get what you want.

Stay safe

Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren. Order Miscellany II, an anthology including his latest short story, “The Mercy System” here

Follow him on
Twitter (@rodneymbliss)
Facebook (www.facebook.com/rbliss)
LinkedIn (www.LinkedIn.com/in/rbliss)
or email him at rbliss at msn dot com

(c) 2022 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved

Stealing For Ten Years. . .And Trying To Stop

I’m a thief. And I’m trying to figure out how to stop. (It’s harder than you might think.)

I write. . .a lot. One of the many areas I write is this blog. I’ve been writing on it for the past 9 years. And I’ve never made a dime from it. It’s hosted on a free platform and I don’t get any of the advertising. Well, it was. But more on that in a minute.

So. . .when I needed a picture to add to a story, I just found one from the web. I KNOW it’s not free, but I’m not making any money from it. And sometimes it was something as simple as a speed limit sign, or the toy airplane used in Disney’s The Kid. Simple stuff.

I justified it because I wasn’t getting any measurable gain from it.

Except that now I’m moving this blog (all 1600 entries of it) to a paid platform. I want to start monetizing it.

You see the problem.

What do you think? Should I go back and “scrub” the past entries? Should I port them to my new platform as is? Am I being too hard on myself about stealing intellectual property?

Is everything on the internet free? (Okay, as a content creator, I’ll just give a hard NO to my own question here. But, the rest have me thinking.)

Did I steal 9 years worth of content?

Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren. Order Miscellany II, an anthology including his latest short story, “The Mercy System” here

Follow him on
Twitter (@rodneymbliss)
Facebook (www.facebook.com/rbliss)
LinkedIn (www.LinkedIn.com/in/rbliss)
or email him at rbliss at msn dot com

(c) 2022 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved

299,000 The Penultimate Marcus Aurelius Post

Marcus aurelius gets closer to the big 3-0-0-0-0-0

299,000 – 25 days since we hit 298,000

It happened yesterday morning about 6:30AM. I was underneath the walkway on the Adobe building. It goes over the road. The road is on Traverse Mountain. I love the names of some of Utah’s geography.

Where Salt Lake County, where I work, meets Utah county, where I live, is at a place called Point of The Mountain. I’ve never really given the name much thought. But, it’s a very cool name.

Point of the Mountain is one end of Traverse Mountain. Traverse Mountain has that name because you can walk, or drive across the top of it. You can literally traverse the mountain to get from Salt Lake City to my home in Pleasant Grove.

That’s where I was yesterday when Marcus Aurelius, my 1994 Toyota Corolla rolled over to 299,000 miles. I was on my way in early to work. I had to pull off the freeway because. . .safety first. And it was dark at that time of the morning. And half the dash lights on old Marcus are out.

I hit 298,000 on March 3, 2022. Yesterday March 28, twenty-five days later, I chaulked up another thousand miles.

At this rate I should get the big 3-oh. . .oh-oh-oh-oh on April 22, 2022. Thousands of miles ago, I thought maybe I’d celebrate the big milestone by getting Marcus painted, or upgraded somehow.

Most likely not. I’ll keep changing the oil. I’ll get the cracked flex pipe fixed eventually. And I’ll keep driving him until he or I decide to give up.

Stay safe

Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren. Order Miscellany II, an anthology including his latest short story, “The Mercy System” here

Follow him on
Twitter (@rodneymbliss)
Facebook (www.facebook.com/rbliss)
LinkedIn (www.LinkedIn.com/in/rbliss)
or email him at rbliss at msn dot com

(c) 2022 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved

The Benefits Of Having Authors For Friends

Getting books in the mail: Good

New books in the mail

Packages full of books

I got a package today. It was books. I love books. I love owning books. I love reading books. I love holding books. And I especially love getting books.

Getting books written by a friend: Better

Two books by Stacy Dymalski

My friend Stacy Dymalski sent me her books

Stacey Dymalski and I have been friends for a long time. She lives in California, but she used to live in Park City, UT. It’s where her kids went to school. Her son was part of my neighbor Caleb Chapman’s Crescent Super Band, a professional jazz band made up of high school kids.

I think she was involved with Toastmasters while I was also part of that group. Stacy and I never worked together, or even performed anywhere together.

Somehow we became friends. After her kids graduated, Stacy moved to California. She writes screenplays, performs a one woman show, writes books, and I’m sure other things to keep herself busy. She was one of the first to congratulate me when my story, The Mercy System was published in Miscellany II.

Getting autographed books: Best

Autographed books are the best

Autographed books are the best

I love books. I also collect autographed books. They generally don’t hae more value since I love to have them personalized as well. I haven’t met all the writers that I have autographed books from. But, I’ve met most of them.

My autographed books collection

My autographed books collection

My dear mother met Colin Powell and got me an autographed copy of his biography “My American Journey” as well as Malcolm Gladwell and his book “Tipping Point.” My friend Howard Tayler met Cliff Stoll the author of the brilliant “Cuckoo’s Egg.” I’ve met the rest of the authors that are on my shelf.

A few of mine are there too. And now Stacy’s books, “Confessions of a Band Geek Mom,” and “Nine Steps to Self-Publishing Your Book” join the list. I will be doing reviews of them in the coming months.

Stay safe

Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren. Order Miscellany II, an anthology including his latest short story, “The Mercy System” here

Follow him on
Twitter (@rodneymbliss)
Facebook (www.facebook.com/rbliss)
LinkedIn (www.LinkedIn.com/in/rbliss)
or email him at rbliss at msn dot com

(c) 2022 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved

How To Lift Two Tons Of Rock By Hand

Lest you think I’ve brought you here under false pretenses, let me be right up front about the title. I’m not sure it was two tons (4000 lbs.) It might have been more. It was probably slightly less.

And I didn’t lift it all at one time. But, I absolutely picked them all up.

More rocks

The rocks are free. . .delivery costs extra

It’s hard to tell, but this picture has 60 loose rocks. (Not counting the ones in the walls to the left.) Some of the rocks are very large. . Two-man rocks they are called. They get their name because it generally takes two men to lift them. Others are one-man rocks. And others are just large rocks.

It’s said that chopping wood heats you twice; once when you chop it and again when you burn it.

This saying has nothing to do with rocks.

Those rocks will eventually be organized into two more rock walls. A series of steps will go from the sidewalk up past the existing walls. And the new walls will extend to the right.

When I first estimated the amount of rocks I would need, I was assuming one wall. I guessed I would need 60. Now that I need two walls, I figure I need more rocks. And I realize my original estimate was low. I probably need another 100 rocks.

You can buy rocks, you know. But, regardless of the price, nothing beats free. My rocks are not free. I just don’t have to pay for them. My rocks come from my neighbor’s yard.

Utah rocks and dirt

The Utah soil grows rocks

My neighbor recently built a new house. He’s landscaping his yard. He’s starting with building a wall. In the meantime he has a big pile of dirt in his yard. . .dirt and rocks. And he told me I can have all I want. They aren’t free. I just don’t have pay him for them. Instead, I have to get haul them from his yard to my yard.

His house is only a block away and fortunately it’s level with my house. I’ll have many weeks to gather my rocks. Even with that I will run out of effort before my neighbor runs out of rocks.

When I’m done, I will likely have 160 rocks, in addition to about 75 bricks. The rocks are on average about 50 lbs. One hundred and sixty rocks at 50 lbs each is 8000 lbs, four tons. I tried to get my son to move the rocks. I was even willing to pay him. Apparently he wasn’t interested in hauling rocks.

There’s a famous saying in software:

How does a project become a year late?

One day at a time.

How do you move 3000 lbs (or 8000 lbs) of rocks?

One rock at a time.

It’s going to be a long summer.

Stay safe

Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren. Order Miscellany II, an anthology including his latest short story, “The Mercy System” here

Follow him on
Twitter (@rodneymbliss)
Facebook (www.facebook.com/rbliss)
LinkedIn (www.LinkedIn.com/in/rbliss)
or email him at rbliss at msn dot com

(c) 2022 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved