Sneak Preview of "The Lady in the Lazaretto"

"The Lady in the Lazaretto" is the second book in the Lazaretto Trilogy.  Watch for more information on it during the month of August.  The book will be released at the end of the month.

Microsoft Remodeling Company

I have to share my good fortune in finding a wonderful, quality home remodeling company to help me upgrade my older home.  And first let me assure you that no one at the Microsoft Remodeling Company has paid me in any way to pass on this glowing review of their services.

Our house before the Upgrade.

First, a little background:  My home is about five years old.  I know, I know, you're wondering how in the world I can stand to live in such an outdated house.  But give me a little credit, I was trying to be a good steward of my money, not wanting to completely lose out on my investment in what was supposed to be a top-of-the-line home when I bought it way back then.  Yes, it's true that its incandescent lights, while providing a soft, golden glow that makes my whole family feel warm and fuzzy, are ruining this earth by their very existence and need to be destroyed and replaced with the harsh glare provided by earth-friendly light-emitting mechanical orbs.  And lest you accuse me of dodging my responsibilities as a future grandparent, the sheer number of deadly pitfalls lying in wait to maim and sicken defenseless little children who might run innocently through my house is staggering.  I assure you that these dangers have been rooted out and banished as far as humanely possible.  (And of course, we'll be sure to teach those little blessings that running in a house is a safety no-no.  They'll learn it is much safer to sit and read the latest Consumer Reports warnings than actually run around and have fun.)

Okay, so I was surprised to find that when I advertised for bids to remodel my home, Microsoft Remodeling Company was the lowest bid to come in.  Actually, there were only two bids, and the higher bid, from iAAA Apple Construction, was not only nearly twice the lower bid price, it also came with some rather strange stipulations.  No matter what redesign I wanted, I had to make my doors so short and narrow that none of my friends (and most of my family) would never be allowed to use my house.  The garage door would have been so bizarre that I would have had to buy an entirely new car made exclusively by iAAA Apple Construction's sister company iCar Manufacturing.  They also demanded that I use 170 instead of 110 in my outlets.  (This seemed very strange indeed, and I spoke with my local electric company who assured me that while it would work, and it would have more power, there were no electronic devices that I could ever plug into 170.)  Needless to say, I did not go with the bid from iAAA Apple Construction.

Microsoft Remodeling Company assured me that they could provide everything I would want in my remodel.  They did, however, inform me that they would have to make some slight alterations.  Since they were the only company I could hire, I decided that I would go along with their slight alterations.  I'll admit I was a bit shocked at what they considered slight, but my friends and family assured me that I would eventually get used to the changes, so I allowed them to proceed.

Our house after the Upgrade.

Of course I see why they called the changes slight: they did not change the number of bedrooms, they did not change the layout of the rooms.  And their minor readjustments were really rather interesting, if I am to be honest with you.  When they told me they wanted to relocate the refrigerator from the kitchen to my bathroom, I was struck with the boldness of such a move.  After all, who would have thought of such a thing?  It was certainly ground-breaking.  And when they rerouted all of my water lines, which had originally run inside the walls and floors, to run on the exterior of the ceilings, I admit I had my doubts.  But when they pointed out that not only would repairs be simpler this way, but I would feel a leak as soon as one started, I had to go with the flow, so to speak.  Other changes came fast and furious, so much so that I cannot name them all here.  I will, however, mention one or two more.  It took some getting use to the fact that my driveway, which was on the left side of my house, and connected my garage to the street, now runs along the back of my house, out of sight (which is certainly a better aesthetic choice) and connects my back door to my neighbor's compost heap.  The fact that they completely eliminated my wife's greenhouse to de-clutter the backyard, insisting that she can use an off-site rental storage service for her plants, bothered me a little.  But as I said, I think I'll get used to this over time.

I only have one small complaint about my business dealings with MRC.  Though I have asked them to stop, they often show up at the house, usually in the middle of the night, and make even more minor adjustments to my home.  Last week they moved all of my outlets four inches to the left.  The handle that is used to flush the downstairs commode has been removed, and now the handle on the master bath commode flushes both commodes simultaneously.  Just last weekend, they ordered us all of out the house, insisting that they had to install an upgrade that would require shutting down the entire house for an hour.  The gas was shut off (and this meant all of the pilot-lights had to be extinguished) the electricity was cut off, the phone/Internet/cable line was disconnected, and my two cats and one dog were sedated.  By the time everything was turned back on and we were allowed back in the house, I could not find one thing that had changed in the house save for the fact that my older cat was suddenly more sluggish and drooled like a man in a dentist's chair.  The hair has begun to grow back on his tail so I'm pretty sure that was not one of the updates they worked on.

But really, I can't complain.  My house is now modernized, and continues to be modernized on a weekly basis.  And since they were cheaper than that bunch of crooks at iAAA Apple Construction, I'm completely satisfied.  The changes just take a little getting used to.

One last thing.  I sent a letter to MRC to ask where they moved the pilot light to my water heater.  They responded by saying that while they couldn't answer my question, there is a local community group of customers who get together to discuss topics like this.  They felt quite confident that another customer would be able to help me figure it out.  Now that's what I call service.

A Look Back at Life, September 5, 1955

By now readers of Room With No View know that I love all things retro and I get a bit nostalgic from time to time.  You also know I have a stack of old magazines from my wife's uncle and I love to peek through them for advertisements that give us an idea of what was really going on during those years.  The articles are nice, sure, but advertisers have their fingers on the pulse of the readers far better than those writing the articles.

And so we dip yet again into the ad-world of Life magazine for September 5, 1955.  And remember, the things you'll learn here are completely true.  I don't make any of this up.  Honest!

We start with this eye catcher from the inside cover.  I have no idea who Forstmann is, but they make a snazzy business suit for glamorous women on the go!  However, that's not quite true.  The small print tells us that Forstmann is a woolen company.  They make the finest woolens in the world.  And this wool, "oriola" in cornflower blue, is a lovely, soft wool that can be found in stores near you.

You can also purchase this fabric by the yard.  It doesn't tell us which yard you can buy it by.  I suppose it should read "you can buy it by a yard near you."  Which always leads us to the question: how do they know where you are?

Forstmann Woolen Company was founded in Passaic, New Jersey in 1904.  They were in business until the 1990's, when they were eventually bought out by Victor Woolen Products after a financially troubled decade.  Does anyone out there remember this company?

Here's an ad that will make your mouth water.  Who didn't love these tasty metallic treats?  Here you get turkey and gravy, peas, carrots (or is that sweet potatos?) along with a surprise helping of stuffing.  Everything you want in a turkey dinner.  But wait!  There's more!  In this great magazine offer, Swanson is offering to reimburse you for a package of fruit pies.  That's right, go ahead and buy your family fruit pies to top off that dinner with a tasty dessert.  When Swanson sends you 35 cents, you'll be more than reimbursed.  You'll have your money back, your husband and kids will have already enjoyed their flaky, fruity treat, and you'll be happy knowing that you were able to feed them all from metal plates.  That's really cool.  After all, in 1955, everyone knew that the future was heading towards a society that would be based on metal, plastic, and synthetics.

I'm not so impressed that the 35 cents more than covers the cost of the pies.  I'm impressed that it was worth sending 35 cents through the mail back then.  Currently, that is 11 cents less than what one stamp costs today.  Enjoy your pie!

You know I'm gonna try to find a great car ad to show you.  And although there were no car ads in this magazine (what was up with that?) I did find this wonderful Sky Chief layout.  And what a beauty it is!  Here you learn that Sky Chief  gasoline gives your car three types of power.  Count them, go ahead...1,2,3!

Of course the first one is Petrox.  You knew that, right?  I mean, this stuff is awesome.  It actually protects as it powers.  Essentially, since it cannot leave harmful deposits (that's right, it is some sort of law, it can leave no harmful deposits--go ahead, read it right there in the ad) it will make your engine last longer and you'll get more, money-saving miles from every gallon.  Petrox.  You gotta love this stuff.

After pouring 75 million dollars into an octane increasing project, Texaco wants you to know that this gas, which is now the highest octane Sky Chief gasoline ever available, will enable you to "enjoy a brand new power-feel every mile you drive!"  (The exclamation point is theirs, so don't think I am terribly impressed by their expensive project.)

And don't forget number 3:  This gasoline is 100% climate-controlled.  Seriously, I had no idea gas could be air-conditioned.  And the great thing is, that in all 48 states, you are assured top performance from Sky Chief which means...oh yeah, you wouldn't have guessed it...faster getaways!  (Now that exclamation point was added by yours truly, because I'm impressed that Texaco would be marketing their gasoline to bank robbers.  That's just unique, in my humble opinion.)

Now hear is an ad I can really get excited about.  RCA Victor wants us all to see that their 5 new Orthophonic "Victrola" phonographs bring you a new concept in High Fidelity performance.  Incredibly, the price spread here is from $129.95 all the way up to $1600.  That's a pretty big spread.  And really, it starts at a pretty steep price.  I mean, if you can buy a package of pies for 35 cents, shouldn't you be able to buy a stereo for about $60?  Well, I guess that's the price you pay for quality.  And RCA Victor is nothing if it is not quality.  Just consider the following:

The "Mark VI" table model has a 3-speed phonograph.  You get two choices for the finish--Mahogany or Light Oak.  And if you'd rather put your table model on the floor, you could add legs for it.  (An extra charge will be added for the optional legs.)

To add an FM-AM radio console, you'll have to move up two models to the "Mark III", which is gonna bite you for $325.  Ouch.  But then again, you get all that free music on the airwaves, along with great radio dramas, something we don't get anymore, unless you count the news.  I'd tell you all about the "Mark I" twin-console, which includes not just a radio but a tape recorder (I know, you must think I'm making up this magical technology) but why tell you about it?  Even if you could get back to 1955, there is no way you are gonna be able to afford $1600 for a Hi-Fi.  Who did you think you would be, Frank Sinatra?  Be serious.

Oh, here's one that is near and dear to my arteries...uh, I mean heart.  My grandma Alice used to keep Meadow Gold ice cream in her freezer, which was on the bottom of her refrigerator--remember those?  Meadow Gold ice cream was the best ice cream I've ever eaten.  I still believe that.  After all these years.  And it was simply vanilla that she kept there.  Not even this enticing Butter Brickle flavor you see in the ad.  What I don't recall is ever seeing a playful cartoon on the box.  The box always just bore the Meadow Gold standard, which was all we needed to know that yummy goodness was waiting inside the end flap.  (My kids don't know what I mean by "end flap", but you older folks like me know.  Are there any ice creams that still come in square boxes?)

So let's get to the good stuff...the fine print.  First off, we're promised that there is a wonderful candy surprise in the ice cream.  That's the butter brickle, of course.  But then we are given a recipe for making a delicious mocha topping.  What I found interesting here was that the instructions tells us to melt chocolate in our double boiler.  Anybody out there still have a double boiler?  To be honest, I'm not sure what a double boiler is.  Would this be something that is steam-powered?  It sounds terribly dangerous.    

And as an extra, you get a coupon to buy a doll.  That's right, the lovable Little Meadow Gold Girl, who has saucy pigtails.  (That would be mocha saucy pigtails, I'd guess.)  She's lightweight, soft and unbreakable.  I would bet you that if you put her in a double boiler, she would not be as unbreakable.  Sorry, it was just a thought.  Anyway, this great $12 value can be had for $3.50.  Sorry to all my friends outside of the United States, the coupon is only good in our fine country.  

Our extra ad today is one readers of this blog should recognize.  That's right, a second Veedol ad.  I'd been intrigued by Veedol, since I'd never heard of it until I found it in another issue.  I've been assured by my father that Veedol was indeed commonplace back in the day, though he does not remember it being particularly well liked.  For those of you who didn't know, Veedol comes from the Tide Water Associated Oil company.  If I didn't have to rush off to work, I'd tell you all about them.  Maybe another time.

A Summer's View of the French Quarter

The French Quarter, New Orleans.
A Jazz Band tries to cool things down in Jackson Square.

The French Quarter, New Orleans.  It is known for its Mardi Gras and Halloween celebrations.  Yet, for those of us who are fortunate enough to be able to visit it throughout the year, we know there is more to this very unique city than her festivals.  This week, I took a walk around the Vieux Carré and thought I would highlight a few of the sights you might see if you take a July vacation in the Big Easy.

Right away, when you get to Jackson Square, you're gonna find someone, or some group, playing jazz.  It won't always be Dixie Land jazz, but you can be sure it's cool, hot, sweet, and spicy.  You'll usually find them out in front of the Café du Monde, or between Jackson Square and the St. Louis Cathedral.  In the picture above, I found this group in front of the Cabildo.  That's Café Pontalba behind them, which is one of the best places to eat some gumbo, red beans and rice, fried alligator, and jambalaya.  (That last item is my favorite.)  If you look closely, you'll notice that not all of the bands have traditional instruments.  This one has an honest-to-goodness broom guitarist.  You've got to hear him to believe it.  He'll sweep you away.  He can really kick up some dust with that baby.

Speaking of the Cabildo, here you can see that in July, the flowers are in bloom, including the bougainvillea, shrub roses, and especially those on the crape myrtles, which are a Louisiana specialty.

The Cabildo was built by the Spanish in the 1790's.  Aside from being the home to the Spanish government, it was also the site of the Louisiana Purchase transfer in 1803, once the New Orleans City Hall, the Louisiana State Supreme Court (which saw the landmark Plessy vs. Ferguson decision in 1896), and was used as a prison before it eventually became the Louisiana State Museum in 1908.

Not far from the Cabildo, which is on the right hand side of Saint Louis Cathedral, you'll find Orleans Street, which runs into the backyard of the cathedral, connecting Royal Street, the home of so many art galleries and antique shops, with Bourbon Street, the home of so many bars and strip clubs.

In July, the heat can be pretty rough.  While I was there, it was not bad in the shade.  As you'll notice, even the cigar shop Indian is wise enough to hang back in the shade on the banquette.  (The raised sidewalks in the French Quarter are called this because way back when, the small blocks were called islands, which led the French people in town to call the sidewalks banquettes, as in the banks along a shore.)

Speaking of the heat, if you need a place to get out of the sun, most of the hotels in the Quarter have these little passages that lead to their courtyards.  It is in these courtyards where you'll find respite from the midday sun where there is lots of shade, and more often than not, the cooling presence of a fountain.  

During my walk, it wasn't hot enough to seek out shelter.  Though I must admit those fountains looked terribly inviting.

In July, you'll get to see the splendor and variety of the houses in the Vieux Carré.  So many of the homes in this area are gaily painted to reflect the traditional decor associated with this French-influenced American neighborhood.  And many of them are kept in perfect condition, despite the damaging effects of the sub-tropical heat and the near constant high humidity.  There's also the effects of tropical storms and hurricanes to consider as well.  So with all of these elements attacking the wood, you'll find that there are many shutters and doors which have been mistreated.  However, I am always glad the residents don't repair every one of these at the same time.  They add such a wonderful flavor to the Quarter.  It would be a shame if every home there looked perfect.

My purpose for this day was to keep searching for shots to use for my calendars for 2014.  I am never sure which is better, the older, run-down look of the Quarter, or the fresher, painted, restored sections.  I really couldn't choose one over the other.  They're both inspiring in their own way.

But if you're looking for perfect, or at least something close to it, you'll find plenty of homes that will catch your eye.  Here, on Dumaine Street, just north of Dauphine Street, I was intrigued by the colorful display of paint along with the flags waving in the summer breeze.  How delightful it must be to live in such a colorful and cheerful home.

Not far from here I sat down to rest on a stoop and chatted with Louis, a photographer from New York, who was taking a break in the shade.  Though born and bred in New York City, he was down in New Orleans for the coming Fourth of July festivities.  We shared the shade and a little companionship before I moved on in search of more targets for my camera.

Because it was July, and many of the northern tourists did not realize it was actually a pleasant day (by local standards), many of them felt the best way to see the Quarter was to take a ride in the shade of a carriage awning.  You'll find plenty of carriages awaiting you on the south side of Jackson Square.  The drivers/guides will be more than happy to drive you around, dishing out as many legends and myths as you're willing to swallow.  The indefatigable mules, either a Jack or a Jenny, will pull you along, no matter the heat.  The clip-clop of their hooves is often the only sound you'll hear on the lesser traveled streets at noon.  Everyone else is inside a restaurant eating great food and having a few drinks.  (But easy on the drinks in the hot weather, okay?)

Now if you've seen enough of the Quarter, or you just plan to hit it later in the day, you can always grab a ride on the steamboat Natchez.  

Using steam engines built in 1925, the Natchez, one of only a few steamboats still plying the waters of the Mississippi today, will take you on a two hour trip along the river.  Leaving every day from the Toulouse Street wharf behind the Jax Brewery, the Natchez takes you down around the bend of the river past the Chalmette battleground.  Along the way you'll learn a little bit of history about the Mississippi and enjoy a cool breeze up on the top deck.

And when the cruise is over, you don't even have to walk back to your hotel.  The Toulouse Streetcar station is nearby, and so are a few guys willing to peddle you home in their pedicabs.  But if you can stand to walk just a little, I always suggest heading back to Jackson Square so you can grab a milkshake at Stanley.  Trust me on that one.  They're the best!

I'll leave you with a little tune from the Natchez, as played on their steam-powered calliope.  We filmed this as we were heading back to the car.  Look closely and you'll see the man standing at the organ.  Yes, they really do play it live.  It is not a computer programmed calliope, as I had once thought it was.

Use these links for 2014 calendars featuring my photography from New Orleans:

French Quarter Balconies Calendars by jreeser1

New Orleans' French Quarter Calendar by jreeser1

Also, you might enjoy this wrapped canvas photograph of Central Grocery.



View more gifts at Zazzle.

The World that Slid Downhill, a Sneak Pre-View

Cover art by Kathryn Reeser

The World that Slid Downhill is a novelette that I wrote a few years ago.  It is a little difficult to classify.  It has been called an adult fairy tale, post-modernist, metaphorical, even magical realism.  I'm not sure which of those is the most accurate.  What I do know is that it is a delightful, child-like story that takes a turn--a down-turn--into the surreal.

As the story begins, Harry is a child, with a normal, flat back yard.  He knows this to be true.  It is a fact in his life.  The yard is as "flat as a nickel."  As he grows to manhood and has children of his own, the yard begins to slope, ever so slightly.  As he matures into middle-age, the slope of his yard drops ever deeper.

There are eight chapters in this novelette, and in this pre-view, I'd like to offer a chapter from the middle of the story.  The story is already available at Amazon, for Kindle.  However, Saint James Infirmary Books will make it available for free the last weekend of June: the 28th, 29th, and the 30th.  If you'd rather spend the $1.99 for the eBook now, I wouldn't want to argue with you.  Special thanks to Kathryn Reeser for the fantastically re-imagined cover art.   

Enjoy the preview!

The World that Slid Downhill

by Jason Phillip Reeser

an excerpt

Chapter Four

  On the day Marta turned sixteen, Harry and his wife threw her a great birthday party.  Everyone was invited: the Grandparent’s came up from Florida, other relatives came from many other states, Marta’s friends came from school, and all of their neighbors came as well.  Like Harry’s father loved to say, there were more people than you could shake a stick at.

  Cars filled the driveway.  Cars filled the front yard.  Cars filled the street.  The front of Harry’s house looked like a used car lot.

  Inside the house, party guests filled the living room, they filled the dining room, and they filled the kitchen too.  More guests were arriving all the time.  The house couldn’t hold them all.

  But Harry had been prepared for this.  He had cut the grass in the back yard the day before, and had borrowed twenty-three fold-up chairs from the church.  Each chair was now sitting in the back yard, set in little half circles so that party guests could sit together and chit-chat.

  “Grab a plate of food and find a seat outside!”  Harry had to yell to be heard in the crowded, noisy kitchen.  He had to shout it two more times before the guests paid attention.

  Uncle Leo, an old friend of Harry’s parents, who wasn’t really an uncle at all, was the first to take a full plate outside.  It was piled high with a big scoop of potato salad, a slippery looking Sloppy Joe, two deviled eggs, candied yams, and a large helping of Shipwreck salad.   He had to carry it with two hands.

  “Need some help?” Harry leaned out the door, watching as Uncle Leo stumbled a little on the last of the back steps.

  “No, no.  I’m fine,” Uncle Leo whispered in a raspy voice.  Even though he was eighty-six years old, Uncle Leo was fiercely independent.

  Harry kept an eye on the old man, just to make sure he really was fine.  Slowly, Uncle Leo tip-toed through the grass, heading toward the first group of chairs.  This took a long time, as he paused after every third step to regain his balance.

  Two more people headed out the back door.  They were friends of Marta’s, and Harry did not know their names.  He was never very good at remembering the names of his children’s friends.

  The young people, a boy and girl, hurried past Uncle Leo and picked out chairs, turning at the same time, and dropping down onto them.  They did this in unison, as if they had practiced together before the party.  Harry watched as both of the young people’s eyes widened with alarm.  Still in unison, they both began to look up.

  It took Harry a few moments to realize they were not lifting their heads, as if they wanted to look at the passing clouds.  They were, in fact, both being lifted up.  At least, the fronts of their chairs were lifting up.  The girl held tightly to her plate, trying not to spill her food.  The boy, aware that he was actually tipping backwards, threw out his arms to attempt to stop his backwards motion.  As he did this, he launched his plate like a discus thrower from the Olympics.  The thick paper plate flew surprisingly well, evenly spreading potato chips, pork-n-beans, and hot dogs in every direction.

  The kids toppled over, landing on their backs.  They were still in the chairs, although the chairs’ legs were now reaching out sideways in the same way an old grandmother reaches out for hugs.

  The girl, Harry still couldn’t think of her name, had held fast to her plate all the way to the ground.  From where he was standing, it looked as if most of the food had landed on her face and most of her hair.  The boy was laughing.  The girl was not.

  “You kids okay?” Harry hollered.  He hurried down the back steps and passed up Uncle Leo to help the two young people out of their upset chairs.

  “Oh, sure,” the boy answered.  “That was great!”

  The girl only glared at the boy, then turned her mashed-potato-smeared face and scowled at Harry.  She did not think there was anything great about falling over in a chair and catching your food with your head.

  “I can’t understand why these chairs tipped over.”  Harry set them back up and scratched his head.

  “Well,” the boy looked at the chairs and then looked at the yard behind them, “they’re sitting on a slope.  I guess we should have noticed that, and been more careful.  Or maybe we should turn them around.”

  Harry mumbled his agreement and he helped the boy turn all of the chairs around so that they were facing down the slope of the back yard.  The girl ran off to clean out her hair and wash her face.

  Uncle Leo had just about reached the chairs.  He was moving a little more quickly now, and Harry offered to hold his plate while he settled into a chair.

  “No, no.  I’m fine,” he whispered again.

  But instead of stopping at the chairs, Uncle Leo took three steps past them, paused, and took three steps more.  After each pause, he kept taking those three unsteady steps.

  “Where’s he going?” asked the boy.

  “I don’t know.”  Harry wanted to follow Uncle Leo but he heard his wife call to him from inside the house.  She said something about moving cars in the driveway.  Trying to ignore her, he watched Uncle Leo and could see that the old man was picking up speed.

  “She said you need to move her car.”  The boy was also watching Uncle Leo.  “It’s in the way of something or someone.”

  “Yeah, I heard her.”  Harry remembered the boy’s name.  “Justin, does it look to you like Uncle Leo is speeding up?”

  “Yep.”  Justin nodded.

  “Would you do me a favor and go stop him before he goes any further?  I don’t know where he’s going, but he shouldn’t go wandering off.”

  “He’s not going anywhere, sir.”  Justin giggled.  “But I think he can’t stop walking.  The gravity’s pulling him down hill.  But you go move that car, sir.  I’ll take care of the old man.”

  Harry had to admit that the boy was right.  The backyard sloped down so much that once Uncle Leo got going, it was too hard for him to stop.  He just kept heading downhill.  Somehow, Harry’s flat back yard had become the top of a real, be-careful-so-you-don’t-roll-down-it hill.

  Harry passed a worried eye over the retreating figure of Uncle Leo, and then went to the front of the house to move the car.  When he came back, Justin was coming back up the hill.  He was a little out of breath.

  “Where’s Uncle Leo?” Harry asked.

  “I couldn’t get him.  He slipped out of my reach, and just kept going.  I lost him in the trees at the bottom of the hill.  He had really picked up speed.”

  It was sad, Harry thought, that Marta’s birthday would be remembered for the day they lost Uncle Leo.  But things like this just happened.  Uncle Leo had led a long, good life, and no one had ever expected him to be around forever.  The older members of the family were always doing something like this.  You could never count on them to stick around.

  But Harry had never expected to lose Uncle Leo down the hill in the back yard.  How could he have?  It had never been a hill when Harry was a child.  But there was no denying it was a hill now.  And it was certainly possible that things like this could happen from here on out.

Use the link below to buy the eBook.  Kindle eBooks can be read on your PC, Smart Phone, iPads, Blackberries, laptops, and of course any Kindle device.  And remember, The World that Slid Downhill will be free on June 28th, 29th and the 30th.  So you can wait for your free copy or show your support for writers by paying a few dollars for a great novelette.  And if you haven't tried one of my other books, be sure to check one or two of them out this summer.  

My View of Edward Rutherfurd's Paris: The Novel

Paris: The Novel, by Edward Rutherfurd, is an 805 page historical epic that takes a great deal of time and attention to read.  It is not the length of the book that demands so much.  It is the structure of the book that sets the bar so high.

For those readers unfamiliar with Edward Rutherfurd and his epic novels, I will note a little bit about what makes a Rutherfurd novel unique.  Like a James Michener novel, these books are centered on one geographic location.  However, whereas Michener takes a larger view of a place like Spain (Iberia) or South Africa (The Covenant), Rutherfurd takes a smaller bit of real estate, such as England's New Forest region (The Forest) and England's Salisbury plain (Sarum).  Lately, he has been tackling individual cities: New York, London, and Dublin.  Like Michener, Rutherfurd follows a handful of families across many generations through the ebb and flow of real historical events.  All of this is true of Paris: The Novel.

Unlike some of his earlier works, Rutherfurd has chosen to take his stories out of chronological order, skipping back and forth from various time frames.  I felt this was done as a way to increase the suspense over some of the story lines.  I did not mind this, and even felt it might have been a benefit to the book.  It kept the story fresh, and I was happy not to be forced to read the older history before being allowed a peek at the era of the Belle Époque.  I've seen some complaints in other reviews regarding this jumbled ordering of the stories.  I did not mind at all.

I won't get into particulars as far as the families and their story lines are concerned.  Suffice to say, there are a number of families, representing various strata of society: aristocrats, laborers, professionals, and thieves.  Watching the families grow and evolve is part of the charm of an epic like this.  Discovering secrets and their long-reaching consequences is another.  It is a nice reminder to us that what we do today can have extreme consequences on our descendants, both good and bad.  One can also see how some family traits can finally be broken by the younger generations.

Atop Montmartre, the site of much of the action
in Rutherfurd's Paris: The Novel (photo
from RoomWithNoView)

The star of the book, of course, is that grand lady, Paris.  The City of Light.  No matter the subject matter of the time period, whether it be the uprising of the Paris Commune, or the French Revolution, or the golden age of the Sun King, or even the building of the Eiffel Tower, Rutherfurd keeps our eyes focused solely on that most magical of cities.  The reader is taken to the heights of Montmartre, to the bridges over the Seine, and into many famous landmarks that are stacked like chord wood within the boundaries of the city.  He also takes many opportunities to inform us about the history and culture of the city.  Most tour guides tell small stories to back up their recitation of the facts.  Rutherfurd takes the opposite approach, using his characters to back up his story by reciting many facts and anecdotes.  A few times this becomes tedious, seemingly too unreal and staged.  If I had not been such a fan of Paris, I would have found it a bit boring.  However, I love Paris, and I enjoyed all the little tour-guide moments.  No matter that I already knew much of what he was talking about beforehand.

At this point, you would have to guess that I loved the book.  That I couldn't put it down.  It was right up my alley.  It was everything I would want in a book.  And for the most part, you would have guessed right.  Except...

I was initially disappointed with the story lines.  I understand that a book of this size requires a slow approach, and that the author can take his time to build the atmosphere and complex story.  However, it was readily apparent that the book lacked a bit of that Paris pizzazz.  This is a city known for its party atmosphere.  It is exciting.  There is so much that can go on there.  Yet the stories were very low-keyed.  I enjoyed them, I had simply expected something more compelling to read.  A good deal of it turned into a soap opera, just detailing who was sleeping with whom, and who was mad at whom.  I admit that I grew dismayed near the middle of the book.  It seemed as if if Edward Rutherfurd had blown it.  He had the most beautiful and exciting city in the world to play with.  Shouldn't he have come up with something to match its energy and glamour?

Author Edward Rutherfurd

In fact, dialing down the story a notch,  the author allowed himself to build solid characters and situations so that when they all ran together near the last one hundred and fifty pages it finished with a bang.  The last time period he covers is that of the German occupation.  And this is where all the background story pays off.  We see how people with such rich family backgrounds reacted to the pressure-cooker that was Nazi-occupied Paris.  From that point on, the story no longer looked back.  It moved along like an old-fashioned noir thriller.  I was surprised at this turn and greatly enjoyed the change of pace.

Books like this do a great job of reminding us of the history that clings to a geographic location.  It also reminds us of the way sins cling to historical timelines, and how easily our mistakes can effect many generations.  But what it does most for me is reminding me that we are not alone in the place we call home.  So many others have come before us, and so many will come after us.  We have an appointed time while we are here to make a contribution to the small slice of the world in which we live.  When it is over, there is so much more that will continue to happen.  We are often too arrogant a people to understand this.

While I would recommend reading Paris: The Novel, I am well aware that it is not for everyone.  The story is long, and builds slowly.  However, if you commit to the time necessary to read it, you'll find the book ends quite satisfactorily.  You'll have learned much about Paris and the French people.  You also might find that you're curious about New York and London.  I haven't read those yet, but I am adding them to my list.

A Quick View of The Lazaretto (An Excerpt from Book One of The Lazaretto Trilogy)

The Lazaretto is a sci-fi noir novel set on a quarantine moon.  The novel consists of multiple story lines:

Gregor Lepov is a private investigator who arrives in the Lazaretto to search for a woman’s missing son and quickly meets the enigmatic Lilly Stewart, an antiquities dealer, a remarkable woman who may be friend or foe.

Lieutenant Ed MacNally, a homicide detective, along with his partner Arturo Fenelli, begin investigating a string of brutal murders that are similar in their violence but otherwise seem unrelated.

Maria Duvalls, a volunteer nurse in a world where the sick are left untreated, cares for a dying crime boss with a mysterious illness, even as a disturbing young man follows her throughout the city.

The Collector—an unseen yet prominent figure in the city obsessed with contagions and power—wields a dangerous influence through his ruthless Agent.

Helen Segal, a secretary at the Interplanetary Health Service, become embroiled in an internal affairs investigation in which she and her best friend try to decide if the cold, calculating German Doctor Haupt is merely conducting a simple audit or something deeper that will ultimately threaten more than just their jobs.

  In the following excerpt, Helen Segal has been reassigned to work for the newly arrived auditor from Earth.

  Helen Segal hesitated in front of a plain office door.  If she hadn’t been so unsettled at the coming encounter she would have laughed at herself.  Of what was she afraid?  If anything, she told herself, she ought to look forward to this.  It was a chance to break away from the boredom of her daily routine.

  A chill ran through her.  If only the German had not been so cold. 

  She knocked.

  “Come.”  The command carried easily through the door.

  Helen obeyed.  She stepped into the office and closed the door with a precision she rarely used.  She even felt she was standing more erect than usual.  The German’s disciplined demeanor was contagious.

  The small room had only a desk and chair. 

  “You are a few minutes late,” Dr. Haupt stated.  “That is acceptable.  I only ask that it not become a habit.  Follow me.”

  Turning on his heel, he disappeared through a second doorway.  Helen followed.

  “Sit down.”

  She did.  This room was only slightly bigger.  He took a seat behind a desk, looked up at Helen, and spoke without preamble.

  “I have been sent here to conduct a review of IHS in the Lazaretto.  I requested that you be assigned to assist me in this review.  I will not allow this review to become entangled in politics.  Nor will I allow personal feelings to become a factor.  This investigation is about the ability of the IHS to fulfill its purpose here at the Lazaretto.  If it is efficiently doing so, then I will report as much and leave as quickly as possible.  If it is not, then I will report as much, give my recommendations to Earth, and await further instructions.  Do you understand?”

  Helen understood too well.  The German was not there to cut anyone slack.  And she was now caught in the middle.  How had this happened?

  “Yes,” she nodded.  She’d fought the urge to add yes sir.

 “Excellent.  We will begin immediately.  I have already listed the documentation that I require.  You will find the list here.”  He pulled a data tag from his breast pocket and handed it to her.  “Forward this to the appropriate departments.  See that I have the required system passes so that I can view all documentation at their original electronic storage sites, as well as any required passes necessary to print out hard copies.”

  Helen took the data tag and left the room.  Outside his office, she sat at what was now her desk.  Spartan as the room was, the desk contained everything she would need.  At least all the components were installed.  It was even more outdated than normal.

  The deskscreen actually had a keypad for data input.  She spoke a few simple commands and confirmed what she had suspected: the system had no vocal input.  Even the data tag was not picked up by a proximity reader.  She had to set it in a data port before the desk could read it.

  This office was no accident.  Dr. Fisher had assigned this office to the German to obstruct the review.  If they had given Dr. Haupt an obsolete office system to hinder him, what did that say about her role as his assistant?  It clarified her situation.  She had been baffled that she had been asked to help in the review.  She was, after all, only a secretary.  Now she understood.  She was also an outdated secretary that was expected to slow things down.

  “I’m not only going to be caught in the middle of a bureaucratic battle,” she murmured, “but I’m going to be used as a shield as well.  Tough luck, old girl.”

  Of course, she might be reading too much into her situation.  It was possible that Dr. Fisher had merely assigned this particular office because there were no others available.  And hadn’t Dr. Haupt requested her?  Didn’t that negate her theory that she had been assigned for nefarious reasons?

  “Stop fussing,” she ordered herself.

The list from the data tag displayed on her deskscreen and Helen scanned its contents for anything out of the ordinary.

  Archived Annual Reports and Audits were near the top of the list.  She had expected those.  The same went for his request of daily reports, fiscal reviews and many other documents that would present him with an overall view of the IHS facility.  All of those were administrative records that would require little authorization.

  As she had also expected, he requested lab data relating to the numbers of healthy travelers and contaminated travelers.  Such numbers were not as straightforward as they might seem.  Few records were kept on healthy travelers.  Assumptions were made on the number of travelers leaving the planet as opposed to those same travelers arriving.  This was an educated guess that suggested travelers who entered the Lazaretto and left it were predominantly healthy and in no way contaminated.  According to one study from many years ago, it was determined that ten to fifteen per cent of these travelers had in fact arrived with some sort of contaminant that had run its course during the forty-day quarantine.  She would have to explain that if he were not already aware of the fact.

  The list also contained requests for more specific lab data: types of contaminants, treatments, outbreaks and containments.  She also saw documentation requests from areas with which she was unfamiliar.  She would have to get someone to help on determining what authorizations she would need for those.

  Helen was surprised to realize she had personally seen many of these reports over the last year.  Working for Dr. Fisher, she received and annotated all types of reports and reviews she then passed on to Dr. Fisher as the IHS Administrator.  Was that why Dr. Haupt had requested her?  How could that be to his advantage?  Surely he wanted someone who had no personal involvement in the life cycle of these documents.  An opportunity to interfere—to protect herself and those she knew—would be too tempting, at least from Dr. Haupt’s point of view.  It was hard to imagine he would not realize this.  Why take the risk?

  She was fussing again.  She decided she didn’t want to know what the German was thinking.  She knew she had better tread carefully.

For more information on The Lazaretto, got to Rocket Fire Books, where you can order a signed print copy.  You may also purchase a print or eBook copy below:

And watch for book two of the Lazaretto Trilogy: Lady in the Lazaretto.

Eye Candy for the Progressive Farmer, November, 1972

The Progressive Farmer, November 1972: Centerfold

  It would appear that the market for pickup trucks was just as competitive a generation ago as it is today.  After picking out a copy of The Progressive Farmer from my stack of old magazines, I figured that it would not have any vintage ads I would be interested in.  After all, the front cover was a dull, desaturated photo of a farmer on his tractor, pulling a plow through a dusty, barren field.  There were no blurbs on the front, no enticing headlines to draw in the casual farmer/reader.  Just those three simple words: The Progressive Farmer.  It looked more like a pamphlet from the Soviet Union, espousing the wonders of the next five-year-plan.  There was nothing progressive about it.

  But what a joy to open it up and find this wonderful centerfold spread inside.  (Okay, it wasn't exactly the center, but it was close enough.)  Ford was obviously proud of its latest model.  As you can see in the following insets, there are so many innovations they had to give each one a little cartoon, some of them with whiz-bang motion arrows.  What farmer wouldn't be impressed?

As you can see, the Ford box cover not only looks right, it fits right.  That's as opposed to all those other truck makers who designed box covers that look wrong and fit wrong.  And that roomiest cab is not only quiet, but it offers unusual quiet, as well as comfort.  Who would have thought?  I am most impressed with the modern blend-air type of heat.  I'm sure one of you older readers out there could tell me some horror stories about those old trucks that had unblended air.  I shudder to think of it.  And speaking of air, notice Ford offers an optional "air", and if you opt for it, it is all built in.  No exposed air ducts running through your truck.  That's gotta be a plus.

Love the 5 inch deep full-foam seat.  I certainly remember those.  They should have cut back a little on the foam and made the cover for the seat a bit thicker.  Most pickup trucks that were more than a few years old had holes worn in the seat, and all that full-foam padding tended to crumble and end up scattered on the floor mats and stuck in the back pockets of your jeans.

  Not to be outdone, GMC let the progressive farmers know that its 1973 GMC pickup was not only full of features, but it was hard to stop looking at.  And as you can see, if you can take your eyes off the truck for a minute, the progressive farmer takes his young, blonde along for the ride.  And she'll love to ride along, when you consider the comforts awaiting her.

  A smoother ride.  Presumably, smoother than the old trucks, or the other guys' trucks.  It doesn't say.

  More shoulder room.  This depends on the shoulders, I would think.

  19% more window area.  Not a selling point for kids who have to wash the windows.

  Bad news for corrosion.  Which must have really upset corrosion.

  Redesigned door hardware: lets you slam-and-lock automatically.  That sounds so cool.  Anybody know what that means?  I don't.

  New quietness inside.  I remember riding in these trucks from the Seventies.  I cannot imagine how loud the older ones were if these were considered a new quietness.

  Flow-thru ventilation.  With all the salt on the road in my home state of Illinois, I remember that many cars and trucks had flow-thru ventilation, generally around the footwells.  It was always sort of cool to be able to see the road zinging by beneath us.

Here you get to see a non-partisan comparison of some of the new models.  There are a few specs on the the International Model 1210.  And to be honest, I had no idea that International made a pickup.  I'd love to hear from readers about them.  Were they any good?  I don't ever remember seeing any old ones on the road when I was a youngster.

  I love to see this GMC 1973 Sprint.  I am quite familiar with the Chevy El Camino, since my grandfather drove one for many years.  These little dudes were the original crossovers.  As you can see, the boast here is that the Sprint combines the utility of a pickup with trim, passenger-car appearance.  Sweet, right?

  It may be my imagination, but that sure looks like Robert Conrad chilling out next to the F-100 Ranger XLT.  And as we know from the the ad above, it has many new improvements.  Below the photo is tells us that this truck is reported to feature the most extensive changes in Ford trucks in six years.  Someone at The Progressive Farmer was hedging their bets, and not willing to say this without adding that "is reported" bit.  A typical, skeptical journalist.

  We finally get away from pickups, but still find some great eye-candy for the farmers.  Here we see ammunition, which is sure to get any farmer's heart racing.

  All I can really say about this is that if you've used "Hi-Speed" ammunition in the "Power-Pak", you know how convenient these 100 Pak boxes are.  If you haven't, then that's just too bad for you.  Because it is so convenient, if you've used it, you'll know.  If you haven't, it can't really be explained adequately by the ad-man sitting on Fifth Avenue, most likely because he's never used "Hi-Speed" ammunition in the "Power-Pak".  Which is a shame, since if he had, he'd know how convenient those 100 Pak boxes are.

  And let's not forget that once you have used up all those conveniently placed cartridges, the box becomes a great place to keep spare parts, bolts, nails, fishing lures or what-have-you.  Spare parts?  Very small spare parts, to be sure.

  You know I had to find a car ad.  And what a beauty.  This fine, 1973 Plymouth Satellite Sebring-Plus has been restyled to give a look Plymouth thinks people are going to like.  But that's only the beginning!

  They've been able to erase all those irritating little noises your car makes when you drive down the highway.  I kid you not.  Windwhistle?  Gone.  Tire noise?  Gone.  Traffic sounds?  Gone.  This baby has sound silencers--that is no joke!  Real, honest-to-goodness Sound Silencers!--, floor silencers, and yes, even roof pads.  It is so quiet, Plymouth likes to call it "Super Quiet".

  So stop in at your local Chrysler-Plymouth and listen to the quiet.  It is the most quiet car you'll ever hear, I guess.  Which gets me to wondering.  As you can see with the transparent image of the car, there seems to be no motor.  This might explain the incredible silence this car generates.

Today's bonus ad is a fun one.  After all, how often do you get to see an ad that shouts such a great headline to the world.  These Rats and Mice are Going to Die!

  Pure poetry.

  Which reminds me of another old family car that was used on the farm a long time ago.  It had its own little family of mice living in it.  Which would not have happened if d-Con had had their way.  Because d-Con kills rats DEAD.  There were some rat poisons at that time that apparently killed them alive.  Best of all, d-Con is safe around children, pets, poultry and livestock.  (I don't know about chickens, but I can attest to the fact that it is safe for children.  My son once ate a pack of d-Con rat poison when he was about one and a half years old.  After our initial panic, we spoke with Poison Control on the phone and they informed us he'd be just fine.  Just get him to drink water and don't be alarmed by the color of his diapers.  So we did our best not to be alarmed, poured water through him like he was a bucket that needed to be washed out, and were mildly intrigued by his dark, emerald-green dirty diapers.  Aside from his very bizarre sense of humor, we've never be able to see that the poison had any adverse affect on him.  We're still keeping an eye on him.  He turns 22 this year.  I'm almost convinced he'll be fine.)