There’s always something to howl about

WhAcK JoB (and other freezer burned ideas)

Finally,  a bloggable thought!

Let me attempt to serve up something  palatable on the fine tapas Chinette as I poke through the  leftovers in the upstairs icebox. I know, it’s been a month of Sundays since I’ve broken literary bread with the family.

Hey, what’s this here?

Some freezer burned Zig Zigler?  Better check the expiration date on this mentally recorded morsel: 1976?  Hmmm…perhaps I’ll just let it thaw and feed it to the hounds with the dry food…

Insert  frosty Beta into Radarange and press PLAY

‘So there’s this Chinese bamboo tree that doesn’t grow an inch for four years, barely pokes its stem out of the dirt, then, in one amazing swing around the Sun, in year five,  it shoots up ten feet…..’ and  so I paraphrase the Zig man and countless other soap box derby wearers. It’s an old story.

I’ve tripped across many versions of the above Eastern yarn over motivational time and space; some prophets claim seven years for the phenomenon, some claim five, still others  declare overnight! The same question is always begged….does a bamboo tree (Chinese or otherwise) really grow ten feet in any amount of time (save a little daily watering) after laying  dormant for 1500 days ?  And if so, why?

Oh hell, we’re are all pretty smart dogs around here. We all know why.

Personally, it took this mutt over thirty years to complete and submit for publication, a written project that was greater in length than a thousand words and didn’t involve an iPhone snapshot. The notion struck me like a branding iron as I sat at my desk  completing the final U.S. Copyright  and Writers Guild of America keystrokes (along with credit card info, of course) into my tired machine.  I can only hope that after 60 days and nights of finger pecking toil (not to mention the 30 years below the soil), what I sent off , paid for, copyrighted, and registered, is even worth stealing.

So anyway, here’s a sample of what my bamboo tree just sprouted:

SCOTTY takes two more shot glasses off the tray and hands one
to CAT CHOW who reluctantly accepts the offering.

So, do you guys whack people?

MICKEY and SCOTTY look at each other. The housewives at the
next table are making out now. Patsy Cline plays through
the speakers. The lights come up for last call.

No. I’ve never whacked anybody.
Murder is above my pay grade. How
about you, Slick? You ever whack

Me? Nah. I’m a Buddhist. I did
staple a guy’s balls to his ass
once but I heard he didn’t die. So
no. Technically, no.

I’ll be back soon,


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    5 Comments so far

    1. Dan Connolly September 11th, 2009 9:24 pm

      If you wrote a buck I sure the hell want one of the first editions! Let me know where to send a check!

    2. Dan Connolly September 11th, 2009 9:26 pm

      I wish these posts had an edit function I meant to say if you wrote a book…

    3. Anne Cunning September 11th, 2009 10:10 pm

      as usual, you draw the irony and whit out of the of the – seemingly – normal. Gracefully weaving in & out the intricate lace of life. Thanks for a new perspective.

    4. Thomas Johnson September 14th, 2009 8:26 am

      Radarange! Geno: Let us know when we can come to the opening night. Evening clothes and rhinestone SOLD signs on lapels sparkling!

    5. Ian Greenleigh September 14th, 2009 1:52 pm

      A fellow screenwriter, eh? A mob flick, at that. We have things to discuss, Mr. Petro.