New Orleans, Again

A few random thoughts before I leave for the airport. It seems to me that the catastrophe in Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama is going to exceed by far that of 9/11. I keep thinking of a story called "The Open Boat" by Stephen Crane. Remember that one? Sometimes you want to throw rocks at the temple, but there are no rocks, and there is no temple. In other words, we can't bomb Afghanistan this time. We can't blame Iraq, as some whose names I won't mention are fond of doing for other things. We're willing to pump billions of dollars into wars with Iraq and Afghanistan, and then to spend billions more to restore the countries after we've virtually destroyed them. I wonder how much we're willing to pump into our own country, into the states devastated by the hurricane, to help our own citizens.

The usual carefree blogging will return after Bouchercon. I promise.

Bouchercon Bound

Judy and I will be heading off to Chicago later this morning for the annual Bouchercon. We've been attending since 1980, having missed only those in England, so we've been to more than 20. That's nowhere near a record, as Steve Stilwell and Marv Lachman would be quick to point out, but it's a lot of Bouchercons. We've never failed to have a great time.

Bouchercon attendance has grown considerably since the first one we attended in Washington, D.C. There were surely no more than a couple of hundred people at that one, and there was very little programming. Few writers other than the guests of honor were there, and the dealers' room was quite small. It had some great stuff in it, though.

As the attendance has increased, the focus has changed. The convention used to be all about the fans. Now it seems to be all about the writers, with people going just to get a glimpse of their current favorites, and a lot of the writers seem to be there just to hawk their latest book. A line I've heard more than once: "I don't have a book out this fall, so I won't be going.") I'm not sure this is change for the better.

But what do I know? When I started going to Bouchercons, I was a (sort of) youngster and a big part of things. Now I'm an old relic, pretty much irrelevant to the goings-on. I still plan to have a good time, however.

Because I'm technologically challenged, I won't be blogging from Bouchercon. I'm sure a lot of peple will, but I'm not even taking a computer. Or a Blackberry or anything else like that. I'll be back here next Tuesday if all goes well, so have a great Labor Day weekend and take care.

Cap'n Bob's New Digs?

"It's the flash bachelor pad every hot-blooded male will go goggle eyed over ... a house with a built-in lap dancer's pole.

The shiny steel pole runs from the lounge right through the ceiling to the bedroom above, with a circular section of glass ceiling separating the two rooms.

It means that the bachelor lad can sit in comfort in the lounge with his beer and TV while still keeping an eye on the lap dancer above.

On top of that the house includes a giant 'party' bath inside and a large hot tub bath on the deck outside for even more relaxing moments."

New Orleans

For a while there it almost seemed as if New Orleans was going to survive with less damage than expected. Now every new report I hear is worse than the last one, and things in Mississippi and Alabama are even worse. I get a hollow feeling inside when I think about the people who've lost their homes and possessions, and I wonder how they'll ever recover. Some of them, I'm sure, never will. Yet there's nothing I can do except give money to some relief effort. It's a sad, hopeless feeling, and I wish it would go away. I don't think it will, however, not for a while, even though we're leaving for Bouchercon tomorrow and should be feeling pretty good.

Birthdays

Today's my son Allen's birthday. He's 35. Which is odd, since it seems as if he couldn't possibly be more than 6 or 7. The years since he was born have gone by so fast that it's downright scary. When you reach a certain age, "The months seem like days," my father-in-law once told me. That was a long time ago, and I had no idea until recently how right he was.

My son shares a birthday with a lot of famous people, including Miss Kitty Wells, the Queen of Country Music, who turns 86 today. I recall quite well the days (well over 50 years ago) when "It Wasn't God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels" was a huge hit. It seemed to be playing on the radio at my house all the time, at least during the day. At night we listened to other programming.

And R. Crumb is 62 today. When Allen was a little kid, we'd go to Oat Willie's in Austin, and I'd pick up the latest underground comics, most of which were drawn in great part by Crumb. I expect Oat Willie's is long gone by now, though it seems like only yesterday that I'd plunk down my dough for a copy of Zap Comix. Now I see Crumb's work in The New Yorker.

Cameron Diaz is 33. I guess she's too young for me, so I won't return her calls.

Ten Tech Items Ispired by Science Fiction

I've been reading some more of that Murray Leinster collection I mentioned a while back and enjoying it immensely. Maybe that's why I found this list interesting.

Brown Willy is only #97

There will always be an England: "Rude Britain is a 100-long list of the country's most double entendre-riddled towns, villages and streets. North Lincolnshire's entry [Spital in the Street] is in at number 69, sandwiched betwen Snatchup in Hertfordshire, and Shingay cum Wendy, Burckinghamshire."

Hurricanes

When Judy and I moved to lovely Alvin, Texas, in 1983, we didn't know a thing about hurricanes. We didn't even know that one was developing out in the Gulf of Mexico even as we began our move here. We arrived about five days before Hurricane Alicia. We heard on radio and TV that it was coming, but we really didn't know what that meant. We did know that we couldn't leave town, even though we were only a few miles inland and right in the path of the storm. If we left, we couldn't close on the house we'd bought, and we'd lose the loan. So we stayed.

Alicia was "only" a category one hurricane, so it wasn't anywhere nearly as powerful as Katrina, which is churning toward New Orleans as I write this. We had hardly any damage at all, though two days after the hurricane we had to go to the closing in a darkened building with no air-conditioning. Our own house didn't have power for five days, and the water was undrinkable for about that long. Some of our new neighbors weren't as lucky as we were and had trees blown down and serious damage to their homes. I can only imagine what the damage in New Orleans will be like if the storm makes a direct hit there.

Robert Skinner, a writer friend, lives in New Orleans and has a house full of books and other collectibles. He's left the city, and he must be feel truly awful when he thinks of what he might have to return to. I don't suppose there's any way the storm will turn aside, but I hope it does. However, if that happens, there's going to be a serious catastrophe somewhere else. This is a frightening thing to me, and I'm not even there. I sincerely hope it all turns out much better than now appears to be the case.

Important Announcement

OK, folks, here's the deal. Because of all the spam comments I've been getting I've resorted to a new method of commenting. When you type in your comment, you'll have to also type a few letters into a little rectangle below the comment before it can be published. Gerald So tells me that the spambots can't type in the letters, so there will be no more spam comments. I'm sorry about the inconvenience, but it's better than my having to delete all the spam.

We now return to our regular programming.

How to Prove you Don't Have an Obsession

BBC NEWS | UK | Author denies 'Ripper' obsession: "Crime author Patricia Cornwell has taken out full-page ads in two national newspapers to deny she is obsessed with Jack the Ripper."

Red Eye

Vince Keenan is one of the few people I know (besides me and Rosemarie, his wife) who openly admits a liking for Joe and the Volcano. So when he recommends a movie, I pay attention. The other day he recommended Red Eye, so I figured it was worth a look (and not because it starred Rachel McAdams, so stop saying that).

Some of the movie's real horrors have nothing to do with the plot and everything to do with the extreme hassle that air travel has become. Judy and I are flying to Chicago for the Bouchercon next Wednesday, and I should never have gone to this movie. My travel anxieties were high enough already. Now they've been cranked up another notch.

As for the plot, the less said about it, the better. You don't want to know to much going in, or that would spoil the fun. Let's just say that if you thought you've had bad seatmates on an airplane before, you're lucky you didn't have Cillian Murphy sitting beside you. Sure there are lots of holes in the plot, but only a picky person would even mention them. So I won't. Just go along for the ride, so to speak, and enjoy yourself.

Rachel McAdams does a fine job here as the woman in jeopardy who's better equipped to deal with things than you might think at first, and Cillian Murphy is smoothly ruthless. These two characters have to carry the movie, and McAdams and Murphy are more than up to it.

I don't know if Wes Craven of Nightmare on Elm Street fame has directed a thriller of this kind before, but he's certainly good at it. Check it out.

Birthdays

Tommy Sands is 67. He was one of those would-be Elvises who didn't quite make it, but I still remember seeing him in Sing, Boy, Sing, way back in the late 1950s. He had a couple of hit songs, including the title song from the movie, but his career never went anywhere.

And then there's Tuesday Weld, 62 today. The first time I ever saw her was in Rally Round the Flag, Boys, a movie I still remember with affection. She played a character named Comfort Goodpasture, and Dwayne Hickman sang a song called "You are my Boojum" to her. One reason I remember the movie is that a friend of mine named John Black and I went to see it after we had our senior pictures made for the high school yearbook. That was a long time ago, for sure. John went on to a hugely successful career in the import business, and Tuesday went on to star with Hickman in the Dobie Gillis TV series. Both the movie and the series were based on books by the now-forgotten Max Shulman. Not forgotten by me, of course. I read all his books I could find and thought they were hilarious. Later in her career, Weld starred in a movie that I liked a lot, Heartbreak Hotel. I don't think anybody else liked it, however.

Andy Jaysnovitch Take Note

Unclassified maggots no longer a thing of the past. - Aug. 24, 2005: "FDA clamps down on maggots, leeches

Bone wax, tissue expanders for breast implants and other devices could face stronger regulation."

Andy's praise of maggots and leeches is here.

Jayme Blaschke Take Note

Coleman, Texas -- A Texas farmer may have found what some would call a "chupacabra," a legendary animal known for sucking the blood out of goats.

Reggie Lagow set a trap last week after a number of his chickens and turkeys were killed.What he found in his trap was a mix between a hairless dog, a rat and a kangaroo.The mystery animal has been sent to Texas Parks and Wildlife in hopes of determining what it is.

There's a slideshow with pics of the "creature" here.

Jayme has a photo here.

Pulprack: The Hunt for Merle Constiner

George Kelly alerted me to this interesting article about Merle Constiner on the always fascinating Pulprack. Check it out.

The Action at Redstone Creek -- Merle Constiner

I'd never read any books by Merle Constiner, an author about whom Richard Moore has recently become enthusiastic. So enthusiastic, in fact, that he bought two copies of The Action at Redstone Creek in his frenzy to get as many books by Constiner as he could. He didn't really want two copies of the same book, however, so he brought one of them to ConMisterio in Austin back in July and gave it to me. He told me to read it or he'd kick my butt. Being a frail old retired English teacher, I said I'd do whatever he said.

And the book turned out to be pretty darned good. It's got a couple of problems, but it moves fast, has some good humorous moments, and gets the job done.

It's the old story about a drifter who gets into the middle of a range war, but it's handled differently than any story of its type that I've read. The local sheriff is a great character and adds a lot to the book, and Constiner seems to know what he's writing about when he discusses tracking and cattle. He also handles the violence (of which there's plenty) well. Nothing is drawn out. It's just fast, dirty, and done with. This seems to have been intended as the first book in a series. I guess I'll have to ask Richard if there was ever a sequel, since I'd like to read it. And I'll probably be reading other books by Constiner as well.

An Alvin Blogspot

The Cottage House Museum: "The Marguerite Rogers House Museum, built by John G. Slover in the early 1900's, is located at 113 East Dumble in Alvin, Texas. In 1938 James A. and Marguerite Rogers bought the house. The Rogers' daughter, Emaline, bequeathed the property to the Alvin Museum Society in 1995. The Society restored the home and named it Marguerite Rogers House Museum, in honor of Emaline's mother."

This blog is maintained by the Alvin Museum Society,and there's a nice photo of one of the town's historical houses.

Problem Solved!

Print Story: GOP Fears Gas Price Anger May Spill Over on Yahoo! News: "As one of its first orders of business, the Senate will hold a hearing to examine the causes of the price increases, and oil executives might be summoned to testify."

A Great Slideshow

The Sun Online - Life: Worst album covers...ever: "By DAVE MASTERS
Sun Online

HERE'S a lesson in bad record sleeve design from the idiots who put the bum into album.

We've pulled together the funniest covers from the past few decades of disks for our latest slideshow below.

It includes some shockingly bad releases including Swing That Gospel Axe and Trees Talk Too.

One wacky cover by Millie Jackson shows her boobs distorted through a crystal ball.

While Pooh-Man's album Funky Like I Do has a spread-eagled woman with the artist's head between her legs."

Creepers -- David Morrell

A few years ago I got what I thought was a terrific idea for a book. I'd been reading about urban infiltrators, people who go into long-abandoned buildings and tunnels at night and explore them. I checked out a bunch of websites and took several pages of notes, but I never did anything with the idea.

It's just as well that I didn't. David Morrell had the same idea, and he's done a dandy job with it. He's more twisted than I am, so he was able to come up with all sorts of horrible things that would never have entered my mind. He's used them all in Creepers, his new novel from CDS Books.

Five people enter the Paragon Hotel, abandoned and deserted for many years. Or so they think. Before they're inside long, it turns out that rats and mutant cats are the least of their worries. The old building is falling down around them, and they have company. Bad company. Things start happening on the first page of Creepers, and they don't stop until the end. You won't be able to guess what's coming, since some of the people aren't at all what they seemed to be, and their motives for entering the Paragon aren't what they said they were.

And that's all I'll say about the plot, so as not to spoil the fun for you. OK, one other thing. I think that Stephen King once said that an essential requirement for a book like this is that "anyone can die at any time." Consider the requirement met.