Okay, I admit it, a grown man playing with dolls is somewhat worrisome. But, hey! I’m a retired school teacher that survived 23 years of seventh graders. I’m entitled to be a bit mentally damaged. But I recently saw Guardians of the Galaxy, and I was so inspired that, when I saw this doll… er… action figure at Walmart for only ten dollars… Okay, I know I don’t have any money. I do remember what teacher pay is all about (self-satisfaction, enough money to keep you from qualifying for food stamps, and all the pencils and chalk you can fit in your pockets). But ten dollars… and I have only bought a new toy one… er… two other times in 2014. And, Rocket Raccoon! Right?
Category Archives: Uncategorized
Brent Clarke; A Character Study
Brent Clarke is not a main character, but a critical part of the plot of my novel Superchicken. He’s a farm boy and a child who dreams of growing up to be a hero. He can’t wait to get out of the little town he lives in, but he realizes that he has a certain responsibility to the other kids in town because of his dreams of the future. He is one of the founding members of the boys’ gang they decide to call the Norwall Pirates. It is basically a liars’ club, and spends all of its time making up stories of the wonderful things they wish they had really done. Along the way he has to battle a little bit of evil in a large black tom cat that has taking to killing chickens on the Clarke farm. He becomes a leader because Milt Morgan, the Merlin to Brent’s Arthur, appoints him as such. He is at first a bully and an obstacle to the story’s main character, Edward-Andrew, nicknamed the Superchicken. He has to learn not to be cruel to those less blessed than he, and he eventually shoulders the burden of protecting others and working together with the Superchicken to right wrongs and be a super hero… of sorts. You can see by the Paffooney that he is a handsome boy, strong willed and very independent. But he does have a softer side that eventually helps him to become the police officer type hero he always intended to be.
Filed under Uncategorized
Heroes From Yesteryear
When I was a boy in Iowa, growing up in the 1960’s, I remember being seriously infected by the notion that true heroes were like Astroboy. I watched the show on a black and white Motorola TV every day at four after we got home from school. Astro could fly. He was super-strong. He could battle the evil monsters and machine men from my worst nightmares and always come out the winner. I thought a lot about Astroboy and I played Astroboy games with my friend Larry in our back yard. The theme song played over and over in my head.
The Astroboy March
Music by Tatsuo Takei; Lyrics by Don Rockwell
There you go, Astroboy, on your flight into space.
Rocket hi—-gh, through the sk—-y
For adventures soon you will face.
Astroboy bombs away,
On your mission today,
Here’s the count—-down,
And the blast—-off,
Everything is go, Astroboy!
Astroboy, as you fly,
Strange new worlds you will spy,
Atom ce—-lled, jet pro—-pel—-led
Fighting monsters high in the sky,
Astroboy, there you go, will you find friend or for,
Cosmic ran—-ger, laugh at dan—-ger, everything is go, Astroboy!
Crowds will cheer you, you’re a he—-ro, as you go, go, go, Astroboy!
What can I say? I was a stupid child with an imagination easily manipulated by television. My world consisted of Astroboy every afternoon, Red Skelton on Wednesday nights, and Wonderful World of Disney on Sunday evenings. I cried for the Astroboy characters who sometimes suffered and died during the adventure. I cringed when Astrogirl stumbled into danger. But I knew in my stupid heart that everything would be all right in the end.
When President Kennedy was murdered, or when the Apollo Astronauts burned, I didn’t really feel those events. I still thought a happy ending would come to save the day. I believed that I had the power to make things right the way Astroboy did. I was doomed to learn the hard way.
I had heard from my friends about weird things that a fifteen-year-old neighbor would do sometimes. I understood that he liked to “do things” to younger boys. I should have been scared to death of him. But, the cosmic ranger laughs at danger. I was ten when he caught me near his yard. He forced me down into a hidden place behind a pile of old truck tires. He got my pants and underpants down and forced me to stop fighting. I remember it as pain and shame and horror. It was a monster I never dreamed of, and no one came to my rescue.
We used to believe that the future held undiscovered treasures and wonder. We believed that when a hero was needed, one would always step forward. I wanted to be that hero. I would go forward, however, wondering if it all led to an unhappy ending. “Crowds will cheer you, you’re a hero, as you go, go, go, Mickeyboy!”
I know that this is not a very funny post. I get that way at times when diabetes gives me depression, and I am confronted by some of the really hard things that I faced in the past. But I still believe in happy endings, Disney movies, the Wizard of Oz, and… Astroboy. It is the power of our past, earned by trial and error, that lets us bash the monsters in our future.
Filed under Uncategorized
From the D&D Table
We like miniature figures and homemade illustrations in our D&D campaign. Let me show you a bit of the excessively obsessive results of this preference.
Filed under Uncategorized
Revenge of the Long-Suffering Lawn Gnomes
I am a bit depressed about events that I don’t have permission to tell you about. It isn’t something entirely bad, but it isn’t entirely good either. So, like all the other things that conspire to make my life miserable, I will blame it on lawn gnomes.
Yes, lawn gnomes are evil, and spread their misery to my yard and home. Back in the seventies we were shown the secret life of gnomes in the best-selling book by Rien Poortvliet and Wil Huygen called simply Gnomes. What they don’t tell you in this book is that gnomes are closely related to gremlins. Gremlins tear apart engines on airplanes and cause all sorts of random bad stuff. Gnomes could care less about airplanes, but they do care about lawns and green growing stuff. Thus, the nightmare in my yard.
On July 29th the city of Carrollton notified us that we were in violation of yard maintenance regulations. The lawn is overgrown and the lawnmower is broken down. No matter what I do to repair the mower and get it restarted, nothing works. I am pretty nearly sure that the gnomes have clogged the air intakes in the engine, and they secretly re-clog it every time I clean it. They also do something to the trees. Now, I know, even though Ronald Reagan never quite figured it out, that trees themselves are not evil, and do not cause pollution. But gnomes have a strange relationship with trees, living in secret underground houses underneath the roots. The past three years the trees in my yard have been pumping out dead leaves to bury everything in our yard under three layers of leaves and old acorns. Now, this is rendered particularly suspicious by the fact that the trees are almost all live oaks, evergreen trees that have green leaves all year round. How can trees like these lose so many leaves on an almost constant basis? Gnomes. It has to be gnomes. The trees are not the only hyperactive plants filling the yard with raging greenery and detritus. Johnson grass, dandelions, thistles, and other weeds fill every corner of the yard.
Now, I know I need to keep the yard clean and better groomed than I have managed. It becomes hard when you have six incurable diseases, including diabetes, arthritis, COPD, psoriasis, BPH, and hypertension. I am too often in pain or feeling ill to get the yard work done. So why can’t the kids or the wife do the work? I ask them this often. Apparently yard work is a man’s work and only a man can do it, a point my wife would never be caught dead making except for the fact that she would have to do the work if she didn’t argue that. So, there it is. I have a large amount of work to do that will not stay done, and the lawn gnomes, for their own amusement, keep making it more and more impossible to do. And that is definitely not why I am depressed, but it is all I am allowed to say. (And, no, the gnomes are not holding my dog hostage.)
Filed under Uncategorized


















