THE CAT’S MEOW
FOR WRITERS & READERS™
Issue 13, Vol. 05
©
December 10, 2005
“THE
CAT’S MEOW FOR WRITERS & READERS”™
Newsletter/E-zine: ISSN: 2237-65
Published by Rosanne Catalano, (a/k/a R.C.Kayla)
Editor-in-Chief and Writer/Author
For Her Official Author Web Site – http://www.rosannecatalano.net
Editor and Proofreader: Nancy Peckford,
Technical Writer/Author, Web Designer and Assistant,
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Our
Subscriber list is NOT made available to others.
We are NOT responsible for web site links that do not work; they are given to us by our contributing authors.
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WELCOME TO OUR
ANNIVERSARY ISSUE!
DECEMBER 10,
2004 – DECEMBER 10, 2005
1. Rosanne Catalano—
EDITOR-IN-CHIEF’S
CORNER
2. Nancy
Peckford—
EDITOR’S CORNER
COFFEE HOUSE 4 POETS & WRITERS™
FEATURED
POETS & WRITERS—
3. Heidi L. “Dizzy” Metzger—
“Lost,” “Only 6 Years” and “All My
Love Forever” (poetry)
4. Kay L. Sclagel—
“Give Ya A Quarter” (a short story)
5. R. Thomas Thompson—
“A Vow”(a poem) and “Two-Girl Match”(a
short story)
OFF THE PRESS™
5. Brian Joseph—
“The Gift of Gabe” Book Press Release
FEATURE ARTICLE
6. Mark
Rosenberger CSP—
“Improve Team Performance—CATCH Your Trapeze Buddy”
ARTICLES
7. Robert Moment—
“The 6 P’s of Personal Marketing”
8. Amach
Besnoeing—
“Legal Requirements for Pleasure Crafts”
9. Coleen Panetti—
“Fresh Seafood Has So Many Healthy Properties”
10. Colin
Brin—
“Using Voice Over IP (VOIP)”
11. Leslie Householder—
“Pick Your Picnic”
12. Tracy Leaderbetter—
“Accomplishing Debt Management”
13. Sally Subeners—
“Avoid Bankruptcy”
14. Colin
Mestman—
“Drowning in Credit Card Debt? Save Yourself By Consolidating Your Debt…”
15. Anna-Mae Bruit—
“Cancer Basics”
16. Contalisa Davodo—
“The History and Principles Behind Taxes”
17. Gareth Humes—
“Using a Calculator to Assess Your Loan Prospects”
18. Susan Faireweathers—
“Shop for Great Mortgage Terms”
19. Gene van Onstan—
“Bibles for Your Family”
20. Tera
Avon—
“Tips for Travel Planning”
21.
“Fitness for Families”
22. Kent Cance—
“Cruises: A Popular Vacation Option”
23. Xavier
Savion—
“Steel – Your Flexible Building Material”
24. Camaion Vaytoi—
“Big Trucks”
25. Herman
Drost—
“The Importance of HTML / XHTML Validation – Part Two”
26. Charlie
Cook—
“What’s The Shelf Life of Your Marketing?”
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EDITOR-IN-CHIEF’S
CORNER:
by Rosanne Catalano – www.rosannecatalano.net
WELCOME
TO OUR ANNIVERSARY ISSUE AND TO ALL OUR NEW SUBSCRIBERS! – I thought I would be writing good news here about mine and my
husband’s first time in
Sure we’re disappointed that we didn’t make
it to
Which brings me to eating heart-healthy foods for everyone, not just those who have had a heart attack or an illness … but how do we eat the right foods to prevent illness? And how do we know what ingredients and nutritional ingredients to avoid in our foods? We must read the labels on all the foods we buy at the supermarket to make sure it doesn’t have any trans fats or partially hydrogenated oils in it and that the ingredients have zero grams of cholesterol, zero grams of fat, etc. If you’re still a little confused, check with your doctor or ask your doctor to recommend a good dietician and/or nutritionist, who can help you plan heart-healthy meals for the whole family; a dietician or nutritionist is worth the expense required.
But if you do take medication that may conflict with a heart-healthy diet, consult with your primary physician about a proper diet for you and your family before going it alone…Believe me, I myself am still in the process of ‘learning’ to cook heart healthy meals after consulting with my hubby’s doctors. Our hearts are the most important muscle in our bodies and it is imperative we take just as good care of it as we do our whole body…
My husband’s heart attack and my two dads’ dying this year has taught me that life is way too short and that we should be living in the ‘here & now,’ in which we cherish moments spent with our loved ones and family… no more putting off spending time with them or neglecting to tell those we love three wonderful words we all need to hear: “I love you”!
With
a grateful heart, excitement and much thankfulness to my readers, I’m proud to
bring our Anniversary Issue to you this month … There is SOMETHING FOR
EVERYONE TO READ… lots of helpful information to have, two loving &
thought-provoking short stories and four beautiful poems to enjoy at your
leisure. Thank you also to all our
wonderful contributing authors, poets and writers for continuing to inform and
delight our readers!
My wish is for all your dreams to come true for a very Merry Christmas & may your Holidays with loved ones bring cherished moments forever… will see you in the New Year!
Copyright © 2005 December 10, 2005 by Rosanne Catalano
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EDITOR’S
CORNER:
by Nancy Peckford – webwriterworx.tripod.com
Author/Editor Relations: Words Worth
Blood
I would just like to state that, as a grammar-lexicon-spelling-consistency-detail-sentence structure-word freak, inconsistencies in manuals and any other printed matter (including websites) drive me CRAZY!
Ok, so my unofficial title is Word Freak. I’m obsessed with words and how they are brought together to express thoughts. My official title is Production/Editorial Assistant. I work full time for a publishing company that offers excellent instruction manuals to businesses on how to create and manage policies for their staff.
The problem is, when the company got started with this idea, we didn’t establish a style document stating what writers could and couldn’t do to the words they put on their pages.
Now, after adding three publications to the policy series and releasing countless updates to the publications, we have decided that we should enforce styles across the publications so that there is consistency for our readers and, although it’s a small reason in some people’s minds, to make editing and proofreading of the manuals more rule based instead of fly-by-the-seat-of-the-editor’s-pants based.
Novel idea, I say.
And guess whose job it is? Well, I shouldn’t complain. I volunteered. It’s fun…most of the time. I enjoy the intellectual exercise (that’s what the publisher calls it) of debating different style options and methods with the authors of our various publications. Some authors are better than others. Some days are better than others.
What editors and writers have to remember, whether they are debating styles or structure, is that both groups, on either side of the publication, are people. And they have feelings. And their feelings are the reasons they write or edit in the first place and feel passionately about their words and what they do.
There are many directions that this article could take. Because, as a writer, I’m not working directly with an editor I will likely maintain more control over my work than some writers do. And that is neither good nor bad. I’ve been lucky as a freelancer. Working with the chief editor and publisher of this ezine, Rosanne Catalano, has been a respectful and enjoyable experience, whether as a writer or as a proofreader and editor. I’ve been on the other side though…the dark side, if you will. As a full time in-house Production/Editorial Assistant, I have seen relationships ruined over a few black markings on a page that resemble letters and form a thought.
Over the next several issues I will explore author/editor relations and relationships and deal with various aspects of the publishing process as they relate to the people involved. I’d like to hear from our subscribers about this topic. Stay tuned to the January issue of The Cat’s Meow for Writers and Readers to find out how you can participate.
* * *
Please join me in congratulating Rosanne on a successful year of ezine publishing. Way to go Rosanne!
Copyright © December 10, 2005 by Nancy Peckford
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COFFEE HOUSE 4
POETS & WRITERS™
FEATURED POETS
& WRITERS: HEIDI L. (“DIZZY”) METZGER, KAY L. SCHLAGEL AND R. THOMAS THOMPSON
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“LOST”
Copyright © 2005 by Heidi L. Metzger
Written by Heidi L. (“Dizzy”) Metzger
As I look into the shadows
I see souls reaching out
Wanting to be found
but how can I help
When I too am lost?
Waiting for that someone to reach out
And grasp this broken heart of mine
Can that person mend it?
Will I be free again?
Where’s that one that can help this lost broken soul?
__
“ONLY 6 YEARS”
Copyright © 2005 by Heidi L. Metzger
Written by Heidi L. (“Dizzy”) Metzger
It’s only been 6 years,
I still miss you
like it was yesterday
You weren’t here that long
but you made a big impact
You changed a lot of people’s lives
and made your own mommy see
The beauty in a child
That God took home sooner
than Mommy’s heart, soul and body
Was ready to let go;
you will never be forgotten
Mommy will always love you, Matthew Lennox!
__
“ALL MY LOVE
FOREVER”
Copyright © 2005 by Heidi L. Metzger
Written by Heidi L. (“Dizzy”) Metzger
When I see you I know where I want to be in 5 years,
It’s not with anyone from my past
It’s with You
And only You
I have never stopped loving you
Nor do I want to
I smile knowing you are a part of my life
Seeing you
Makes me want to
Never let go
Not sure if you feel the same
I give you all my love forever more
__
AUTHOR
BIO:
To send e-mail comments and/or questions to the poet, Heidi L. (“Dizzy”) Metzger, she can be reached at: dizzi6794@yahoo.com... Stay tuned for more of Heidi L. Metzger’s emotion-packed poetry!
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“GIVE YA A
QUARTER” (a short story)
Copyright © 2005 by Kay L. Schlagel
Written by Kay L. Schlagel – www.mdmkayblog.com
Grandma’s house was built with children in mind with a house full of “touchables” for eager small hands and a perfect circle that ran throughout the rooms of the house that made for a great sport of tag and hide and seek. The outside of her home was a virtual paradise with trees to climb, places to hide, animals to chase, eggs to find, unlimited feeling of freedom, safety, and love never to be found anywhere else.
Our Saturday’s would start with sister and me jumping out of the car as soon as we rolled into grandmother’s circular driveway. We would run laughing and screaming into the house to find grandma for hugs and kisses, then the inevitable running through of the house to run off the excess energy that had built up all week with anticipation of going to grandma’s house. She would let us run about seven laps of a perfect circle that ran through the interior of the house. We thought it was thrilling especially with the “trip door” that you had to avoid hitting, going through grandma’s bedroom. You had to be sure and make the corner just right or you’d bump into the door making one or two of her robes swing out entwining you in their fragrant softness, but also tripping you into a spill that you wouldn’t soon forget. We were glad that she never moved those robes because the game wouldn’t have been near as fun if you didn’t have that tricky corner to trip either you or your quarry up. Around about the seventh lap grandma would yell out, “are you girls’ going to go out and gather the eggs for me before my hens get grumpy?” Wherever we were in the house, we would slow down long enough to exit the nearest door, and run to the chicken coop to Grandma’s grumpy hens (looking back, I realize that the hens were more grumpy after we were done then when we started, but even the farm animals seemed to know the importance of patience with little hands at grandma’s house). The rest of the day would be filled with chores, trips, and tasks for grandma done with eager minds and little hands met with the patience and love that seemed to surround everything that had to do with being with grandma.
The evening would arrive quickly, but with no less anticipation with the special rituals that grounded us and gave us a feeling of security, that far exceeded the actual events of the night. We would pick out one of grandma’s amazingly soft worn chenille robes. We would wait patiently as grandma gave us each our own special time alone, talking to grandma, as she bathed us in the bubble bath with the fragrant warm suds of our choice. (I can remember passing many of what would have been a bad night; closing out the sounds of loud arguing voices on the other side of the bedroom wall during the week at home, by spending hours thinking about what color of bubble bath I would choose for my next bath at grandma’s.)
After our warm bath and cuddling in the folds of the soft bathrobe that always smelled of grandma’s delicate scent, we would sit ourselves down in front of grandma’s recliner to have our hair brushed. We’d watch Disney and Bonanza as we munched on the special freshly made sweet popcorn only she could make. I have never since felt the security and contentment that I felt on those nights sitting with grandma.
When it came time for bed, grandma would look into our childish faces and with a sparkle in her eye, she would say (as if she were saying it for the very first time), “Do you girls want to hear a ghost story?” Thrilled to the bone we would both listen intently to every word she said.
“Well…….one night your Uncle Haram decided to go down to the local bar to have some drinks and talk to his friends. Now, I had warned him over and over again that drinking so much alcohol would someday get him in trouble but he never listened. That particular night your uncle had drank way too much, so he decided to walk home. He was so drunk that he got lost on the way home. It was a really dark night because the heavy clouds were hiding the moon so there wasn’t hardly any light to see where you were going. He stumbled around trying to find his way home when he stumbled and fell down into a deep hole in the ground. The minute he hit the bottom he immediately sobered up.
Now, you have to realize something, your Uncle Haram had always been a lucky man and his luck hadn’t deserted him that night, because right after he fell the bright full moon that had risen that night came out behind the clouds and so Haram had a little light to see better with. He realized that he hadn’t just fallen into an ordinary hole. He had accidentally stumbled into the local cemetery and had fallen into a newly dug grave. Your uncle wasn’t normally a religious man but that night he immediately dropped to his knees and pleaded with God to help him find a way out of that grave. I’ve always said that you can pray to God all you want but if you really want him to help; you have to be willing to take a few steps to get things started. Apparently he had remembered what I had said so he began to run and jump trying to crawl up the side of the grave. He kept running and jumping, jumping and running, but couldn’t get high enough to get a grip in the dirt to pull himself out and kept sliding back down to the bottom again. Exhausted, cold, and alone he finally decided that he was going to have to just wait it out till morning before someone would come along to help get him out of there………….(here she would pause waiting for us to plead with her to tell us what happened next). Just as he was sitting in the middle of the grave thinking about trying to get some sleep, he heard a deep voice coming from one of the dark corners of the very grave he was sitting in. It said, “I’ll give ya a quarter if you can get out of here.” It frightened your Uncle so bad that he jumped up, ran to the side, leaped out of that grave, and ran all the way home. He’s never taken a drink again. The next morning when the grave diggers came back and rescued the other drunk that had fallen in the grave earlier that night he told them, “you should have seen the other fella that fell in here. He just jumped right back out. He never did come back for his quarter.” She would let us girls roll in laughter as we did each time we heard that punch line and then it was time for our prayers and into the bed.
My last memory of my Grandmother was as she was laid to rest in the local cemetery at the gravesite service after her funeral. As a minister who had known my grandmother only socially droned on about the exemplary life she had lived as wife, mother, and grandmother; scenes from my childhood flashed through my head giving me comfort in the knowledge that she had left an invaluable inheritance of wisdom, unconditional love, and the value of laughter.
As the rest of the family walked back to their cars amid hugs, laughter, and the unity my grandmother had brought to us once again, I stayed behind not knowing how I was going to say goodbye to the woman who had been so important to me. As I stood beside her casket I remembered someone had told me once, that placing a penny in the casket was an old tradition to bestow the person luck and safe passage. Reaching into my purse for a penny my seeking fingers encountered the rough edges of a quarter. I had to smile as I pulled it out and slipped the quarter into my Grandmother’s hands and leaned over to whisper to her, “I know you’re already in heaven but just in case, I’ll give you this quarter so you’ll be able to jump right out of that grave.” I was then able to turn and walk away with tears and a smile knowing that Grandmother was watching me from heaven and laughing one more time at that old ghost story.
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AUTHOR
BIO:
To learn more about Kay L. Schlagel, a poet and artist, and
to read more of her poetry, articles, information on her book “Cindy When Hell Froze Over” (a session
by session account of using hypnotherapy to recover suppressed childhood
memories), Kay L. Schlagel asks you
to please go to her web site at: http://www.mdmkay.blogspot.com.
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“A VOW”
Copyright © April 3, 2002 by R. Thomas Thompson
Written by R. Thomas Thompson – rthomasthompson@msn.com
A secret promise may never be broken, a vow in public
Is merely a token—oh yes, something said well of light to night,
Something made to be oh so socially right; and yet—there
Is this secret clandestine promise never broken, oh but in the while
The vow of—in, by, and too to—the public, merely spoken—unlike the
Dove silent, secret, clandestine in flight, full of mystery’s plight of one
Under another’s mortal might; and yet it is there as the promise of two
Hearts, two souls ensiled, two minds entwined, that which heaven gave
The grave cannot divide, however or whatever man, should have made—
Whether a vow in public, a law socially to submit, this is simply a notion
Of paper to commit commonality without emotion; yet there is the
Promise never broken, -- it full well, is without a notion, neither is it merely
A token of truest love, just sincerely spoken between two, or just
Witnessed from up above, it’s a secret promise beyond meat and soul of love.
___
“TWO-GIRL
MATCH” (a short story)
Copyright © June 27, 2005 by R. Thomas Thompson
Written by R. Thomas Thompson – rthomasthompson@msn.com
Ever had a certain word or word phrase haunt you until the garden of your mind blooms; yet to a ken darkling in derogatory ecstasy. While peeping inside yourself, you see darkening crevassed rows extend far into mind – into what is beyond dwelling; slim watery cracks go on and on obliquely into unlit depths. Well, Larry has.
One motive perhaps, for dwelling on a thing, has to do with his other profession before he started being a school bus driver. That thing he did after military, he had ETS’ed; and after his ‘End Time of Service,’ went to college, graduated with PhD in Chemical Engineering and went off to work with some humongous firm called Amalgamated Z---. The reason for Larry not doing that work anymore had come from the love of it. Fore he enjoyed it so much, he would have performed its tasks, free. Yet, he went to where he could not go back to it. You see the toxic levels, conflicting with his body chemistry, went too high; any more exposure and he would be amongst the walking dead. For that reason alone, he drives a bus; he said, “Everybody got to be somewhere doing something.” Besides, he liked driving a bus … it just enhanced the need of his desire to drive mindlessly.
Another perhaps haunted, extended from the word ‘match.’ Still there were many days like today, passing scenery but less blurry, sun glary buildings – from brass, shiny steel, sun-bleached bricks; the folly of overgrown flowers, and limbs protruding too far into the street from the trunk of older than God oak and pine trees. The way back when thoughts (and not so unlike other times of being on the bus; this time, thoughts roam while driving in the car home). He thought back to those times of college history discussions on most basic things of chemical-reaction. The question again comes: “What becomes of those things resembling a match?”
“Fire,
how discovery created it,” he thought. The Boy Scout idea – rubbing of two
sticks together, then discovery of a small-stick, because its tip is chemically
treated, struck on a rough surface it bursts into flame. An English apothecary
John Walker invented friction’s match, in 1827. A French student, Charles
Sauria, invented phosphorous match, in 1831.
Inasmuch as what was inconsequential in its triviality transposed this man to another place – for ever. And yet while just about ready to come out of his daydream there came a thought of another method of match: One that closely resembles harmonic or discordance of one element to another.
Since he is so inclined, Larry falls to this realm of allowing matched ends. His mind remembering … while the fight on his bus rumbles and rocks through watery mud. Then comes some tears as dry as salt and “when it rains it pours®” comes to mind. With, comes palatably items metaphorical of otherworldly braids: The fiery throes of compatible or to be such in correspondence…, those placed in opposition or be in direct opposition to…, bump heads with…, meet head-on…, set (or be) at odds with or of indifferent ends…; all these and then some passed through Larry’s mind. Again, the two-girl match tied its knot, one from then on; he would capture and be mindful of as one would a grain of salt. “You can’t save them all.”
The echoic voice changed to voices and began to sound like mutters, as it gets older: “You can’t stop here; cars and buses have to get by you!” Instantly, Larry thinks several things: 1) I am the brain of the bus not them, out there instructing, 2) I am on school grounds; I need to do what the teachers’ say, and 3) This is the scene of an accident now; I should ignore authority, because they are wrong, no vehicle is to leave the scene. Paper covers rock: He pulls his bus up a little bit more.
The voice comes back: “You can’t stop here; cars and buses have to get by you!” Paper covers rock: He pulls his bus up a little bit more.
Another voice: “You can’t stop here; cars and buses have to get by you!” Paper covers rock: He pulls up a little bit…
A child, by itself, is enough to drive a person crazy.
This man signed to join the bus driver’s transportation union a month before misfortune happened upon the doorsteps of his bus. Larry, a ‘darn Yankee’ knows ‘F-o-r-e-s-t’ spells ‘farest’ and that ‘L-o-u-i-s-v-i-l-l-e’ is said ‘looseville’.
He is a veteran bus driver of five years. And it will perhaps haunt him, what happened, that is, to him that day, it happened two days before Thanksgiving.
The union idea finally took hold.
Maltreatment of the drivers by the school system and school board became the tryst of where both would meet. Before Larry’s time, such treatment previewed as abuse gave cause to older drivers especially to want the union. Even if they retired the year after executive installation, any old-timer wanted it for the newbie.
However,
before a union could come in, half the school bus drivers had to sign and join.
So finally, the first and second rally came about and the first meeting took
place. From first luncheon rally to
first meeting took two months. Yet before, bus drivers were echoic of words
“Union!
As a result, another month passed. Paperwork, discussion of a meeting place and executive board meeting delayed group organizing. This totaled about three months. After then, the union executives worked on – by filling and filing paperwork – recognition of the federal government. This slowed and bogged down antsy members, the union compounding workload and process by another couple of months.
The bus drivers had been trying to start a union, since Norma Rae – or so Larry, mused his thought. He, hardly far from right, did not realize it had been more than twenty years. Still, longer than Larry was in the school system transportation department, driving. However, he too, was instrumental in getting the drivers motivated and the union in; nevertheless, after the mishap, it did not help him.
Three months after the accident, the top local union executive said:
“Ya hudd from are law’ya.”
“Ya hudd bout haus da chile, ya ran oba, iz?”
“Wha did dhey have ya do’in naw?”
“Ya back drive’n yet?”
Larry’s answers contained three “No’s” and a “Nothing.” Voted in, the union came right after the mishap.
Larry thought back to all that and more, on his way home from sitting in transportation doing nothing, told nothing except “go home” after one hour of being ignored in the office.
The dream included a child. Larry did not know whether girl or boy, more or less, one apparently having fallen off his bus. This child, its body in a one-hand-clapping wave appeared frantic in this back and forth movement, sat on the ground. (This child had to be somehow in an unseen yet growing rubre-puddle; this hardly thought of [as it too was unseen] by Larry, at the time, as blood.) Nearing the end, Larry slows from a creep to a crawl, he was going about five miles an hour now it is about one or two. During and after… a too late childish scream of urgency about an incredible something comes from well behind him and inside the bus. Urgency could barely have audible range over the many decibels of continually outraged children. These young middle-school scholars hollered, screamed and yelled this way: Across two highways, two main streets and through several neighborhoods. In other words, they were this way … the whole trip to school.
Once Larry decided to stop, a physical education teacher outside the bus’s side door, he glanced at her through the windows while his askant stare is at the child in his two left side mirrors. He could not focus on the child in either mirror; the motor makes the bus jitter and therefore the view of the mirrors too. He notices the teacher telling him, “You can’t stop here; cars and buses have to get by you!” He thought three things in an instant and the next instant pulls up a little bit. Another teacher tells him the same, “You can’t stop here; keep moving…” Poor Larry, all the time thinking that he had run over a child – and should not do what the teacher said; but ‘paper covers rock.’ Larry, shocked, did not realize he had already called this into transportation three minutes ago; another driver had too. The police, an ambulance, transportation director and assistant director were on their way. Larry should have followed the law, instead of doing what the teacher said and left the bus at the scene. Nevertheless, stunned, he thought how he did not feel the first bump from the back of the bus. The dooly tires just crept over and smashed that child’s legs and middle into the asphalt. The ride was smooth as silk. So, instead he followed the teachers’ orders and moved up and out of the way; something clearly against the law, even on school grounds. Larry’s mind trapped him in shock. The teachers trapped him by barking orders. The students trapped him with their loud angry noises – all the way to school.
Everything that whole morning, seemed to have passed by Larry and his limelight was unnoticeable. Both his girls were at school; ‘T W,’ these letters, her initials, also stood for ‘The Wife,’ is at work. He is in the house alone with only his thoughts for noise. “It’s noon already! Well, peace and quiet at last,” he says to himself. He has been off the bus, but that was three busy hours ago.
He happened to plop between two fauteuil arms; too weary to care or question whether the chair was his or did it belong to ‘T W.’ Blindly he sinks into a chair. The particular morning events were still falling most backwardly through his mind.
Tonight is when Larry discovers whom he ran over. A detective tells him, shows him pictures of the two girls, while taking notes. Just the same, none saw it as Larry’s fault. Really, there was no ticket; ergo, no traffic violation. Taken was nothing from him physically! Except, what he will lose by not working, thousands of dollars in overtime – that is what a bus driver feeds his family from, with base pay comes less than full-time money. But, still, mentally… maybe the soul of the job is lost to him. He thought of the mindful children, their seeing that, what of their reactions? “Will they explode or will they fill the air as CO2, colorless, odorless, and tasteless. Will they be a gas, about one and a half times dense as air, ordinarily, it does not burn, and usually it is stable, inert and nontoxic.”
Grandparents of the child are suing Larry, the school system and the transportation director, making it so the bus will remain immovable for an indefinite amount of time and therefore Larry is unable to drive for an indefinite amount of time. Ergo he, for an indefinite amount of time cannot make any seriously needed money just for regular bills without working two jobs. Punishment for driving the wrong bus at the wrong time; is the way he sees it.
He had done everything he could, separated the girls, one in front, the other in the back. Meanwhile he remembers when, after the mishap, a school board member joined his side; she, a decent looking older woman, hugged him. Her hug pushed his chest. He gave a fretful laugh; in his ear she said “It’ll be alright.” None of the other school bus drivers blamed him either. The two directors of transportation said nada at the school, and even less in months afterward.
This is where the mishap happened … I return to the place over and over again, but only in my mind. It was right in front of this school, not fifteen feet from the building on school property. Yet, when I turned to go in front of the school, at the corner, not a teacher or the principal was in sight, but there were hundreds of children; too many cars and buses without room to move.
Larry
remembers the quiet and slow ride, alone, home.
Yet the speed of his ride home was unlike the ride to the hospital. However, both were a heck of a lot different
from driving or riding a bus. He kept
thinking back through the morning, just him and three trips of ululating hyenas
and loud geese cacklers, nearly equal numbers (each trip) were on board this
morning – as any morning. Sixty kids, or
thereabouts, he took for a thirty to forty minute trip to school. Point ‘A’ to point ‘B’ and back, home to
school and back home, each group gets a different school. Yes! He remembers the CO2, colorless,
odorless, tasteless, a gas, about one and a half times dense as air ordinarily,
it does not burn, and usually it is stable, inert and nontoxic. Moreover, he remembers each load mixing the
Boy Scout idea, the tip chemically treated and struck on a rough surface – it
bursts into flame. He remembers how an
English apothecary John Walker invented friction’s match; a French student,
Charles Sauria, invented phosphorus match.
He thought of how the
Teachers
get a better deal. They have a better
adult-child ratio – about thirty to one (bus drivers stand about sixty to
one). Those that carry children who
stand on the bus everyday have a ratio, which could run ninety or one-hundred
to one, but teachers do get more pay. In
most cased scenarios they get air-conditioning in hot southern months, heat on
frostbitten mornings, more space to think – they are in bigger rooms. Generally, all around, any teacher is better
off than a school bus driver, who sits amidst blows of a closed quarter dodgem
space. Larry, ex-Marine Sergeant Vet of
He is too old to compete for company management or supervisory positions, even if it kept him far away from chemicals. He is too qualified for a lesser office position, in the real world of business. Education-wise, now that so much time has passed, too historically centralized in old methods, so he cannot move to lateral office positions. Still, not enough work-years for him to retire. There was many-a-time when he drove the old transit bus 99, with over one hundred persons aboard, going across town on a trip, safely, enjoyably; it was said so, by the adults on board.
A school bus has less free space in which to move around than a boxing ring. Yet, this neatly combed dirty blond-headed driver, Larry, a fashionably looking guy, about five feet five and a half inches tall, and one hundred thirty-five pounds soaking wet, was a lone adult transporting all sixty or so kids, in heated highway traffic and rain torn weather. Only God knows how many streets he passed through any morning or afternoon, three trips in the morning and three more trips in the afternoon. Whaling fights may ensure among the sixty or more overweight adult-sized kids of all colors and nationalities; yet he has always managed to get them to school or home without a traffic collision. Still, this other had to have happened.
Yet, still, they who educate presidents, rulers of countries, are at the low end of the professional scale; nonetheless teachers are just above those ones who bring the presidents, generals and CEO’s to them hold worldly futures in their head and hands. This speaks more or less to the blight of this world. Larry is qualified over under around and through; fully vested in child training too, ex-PTA president, substitute teacher, trainer of men—drill sergeant in the marines, office manager, and dad. Larry was fingerprinted and investigated by the federal, state and country regulators. While in the marines, he had a Top Secret Crypto Clearance. The country, state, city and county, road safety commissions have trained him. Larry is a state licensed and trained CDL school bus driver.
He does not know what will happen next, no way to know. One man, sixty kids. Most of the kids followed the fight from back to front. He thought: “How? Other children and at least thirty feet separated the girls; they did not have to fight.” He, when sighted by the director, went directly to the hospital for urinalysis. What was it they expected to find? It was a quiet hung-head ride there. Larry thanked the director for speedy delivery back to the school’s transportation office home base. The director replied: “You’re welcome?”
Neither Larry nor the director knew, why, for what reason thank you came out. Many times the director came out on calls to Larry’s bus; this was his first mercurial arrival to any of Larry’s scenes.
At this sanguine scene, Larry was an oblivious onlooker: Last thing observed was the complexion discoloring a large spot on the dark pavement taped around by the police.
From somewhere, after the bus stopped, up pops the principal removing his coat and shirt to cover the girl, some teacher says loudly, “Now, principal-Johns not only knows what to do but is one who cares.”
Some bus driver drags words under their breath, “Yea, he’s Johnny on the spot a’right.” Others say nothing but sadly smirking, tisking, frowning, and nodding their heads.
Paramedics hauled the child away. Before the ambulance left, but after the middle school child’s pelvic, flattened, while it bloodied the pavement and as principal-Johns’ suit coat jacket and white shirt draped the reddening waist, someone said something to Larry. Larry said, “huh?” The mumbles of the southern slang still mixes him up after thirty years of southern living. The person said, “Cain’t see hows da’dev’l dat chile sat ope own da pavement.”
Larry stood dazed, but with a few other drivers at the school. After a while came their usual gambit of explaining how he aught in no way, shape, fashion or form feel shame or guilt. Oh, then the bus drivers began telling and revamping their own horror tales.
Another school bus driver said: “Ee waa’snt your faught. Shaw’ll, keys just baa’yd; dats augh, day jus baa’yud. Dem guls shouda been fie’in. Naw, da chall shu’ant ha been seet’n down … fie’in own da bus, yes ma’an!”
The child, unseen, unfelt and unsung, got out while the bus was still moving. No child watching the fight said anything. The two girls went from back to front, to windshield to side stairwell and then were out of the peripheral sight of the bus driver. The one girl was out the door, sight unseen. After it was over and he stopped the bus, Larry hung his head; he could not hear or see any more. The outsourced one had fallen down, under… somehow, after leaving from the side-load door of the stairwell’s steps. That happened after being thrown atop the narrow dashboard, into the windshield (or visa-versa). Larry fell to numb, long past that time of the two-girl match.
The bus, still with its childness screams and shoves remained unchanged from before entry to the school zone. In front of the principal’s office is where the child was… Larry looked for a teacher to wave down. He just knew he could find one. The bus approached the corner. He turned the bus and thought: “Usually … they are here! Yesterday they were …” as he drove he hoped it wouldn’t be too late.
As for the run-over girl that morning by the yellow vehicle’s rear dooly-tires – relief could have paved her dead assuming the circumstances. He never felt the back dooly-wheels bump as the set rolled over the middle of her body.
The echoic voice of the screaming teacher: “You can’t stop here; cars and buses have to get by you!” Larry pulls his bus up just a little bit more…
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AUTHOR
BIO:
This is a Robert T. Thompson (a/k/a R.
Thomas Thompson) debut, most recently his writings (poetry, essay and
short stories) maintained a residence at PublisherDatabase.com. He is an
Army Vietnam Veteran, who drives a school bus in
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OFF THE PRESS™
NOVEL
RAISES QUESTIONS ABOUT SPIRITUAL MEANING
IN
SONG LYRICS
Brian Joseph’s recently published novel, “The Gift of Gabe,” has many readers wondering about the meaning of many well known song lyrics. The novel is the story of an accidental meeting with an eccentric old man who claims that people who have had similar experiences can communicate these experiences to each other in ways that are not readily understandable to most people. An even greater claim made by the novel’s main character is that during certain creative states some people can channel the Universal Mind and often be unaware that they have done so. What readers are fining remarkable is that the novel gives examples of songs they are familiar with and interprets them in a new way. Example after example is given by the main character that uses emerging scientific paradigms as well as various spiritual schools of thought to explain his view that the Universal Mind communicates to us through poets and musicians. Those cited include John Lennon and Paul McCartney as well as others.
The author cites: Plato who said that poets can utter great and wise things that they themselves do not understand, Socrates who spoke of this in his Apology to the Athenians, some of the Sufi who call this shathiyat which is poetry/prose that comes during what they call an ecstatic state, and Joseph Campbell who called it poetry from the transcendent realm. One of the more controversial claims made by Gabe is that this poetic language is the ‘speaking in tongues’ that biblical Paul spoke of.
“The Gift of Gabe” also explores the rise in interest in consciousness and Gabe claims that there is a new culture rising on the planet. Readers have been startled by the conclusion of this book that creates a new genre beyond visionary fiction.
For more information and/or to order Brian Joseph’s book, “The Gift of Gabe” please go to his web site at: http://www.giftofgabe.com or email him at: brianjoseph@giftofgabe.com
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FEATURE ARTICLE
Effective team performance requires catching the people you count on most—your Trapeze Buddies. Four elements lead to success and increased productivity: Teamwork, Communication, Precision Timing and an extra effort mentality; the author Mark Rosenberger CSP explains this concept below…
“IMPROVE TEAM
PERFORMANCE—CATCH YOUR TRAPEZE BUDDY”
Copyright © 2005 by Mark Rosenberger CSP
Written by Mark Rosenberger CSP – www.NoSplatZone.com
When it comes to customer satisfaction there is plenty of focus on the customer in most organizations. But little is written about the need to take care of the people you count on most so you can take great care of your customer –your Trapeze Buddies.
Simply stated, a Trapeze Buddy is anyone you count on to come through with a task or function so ultimately you can complete your job for the customer. Conversely, your Trapeze Buddy is also anyone who counts on you to come through as promised so they can do their job.
Drawing from the example of circus big top flying trapeze artists, the concept of the Trapeze Buddy conveys the idea of teamwork, communication, precision timing and that extra effort mentality. The metaphor also conveys the grave consequences of not coming through as promised and dropping the person who is counting on you to complete a task, function or provide information so they can do their job. In other words, it’s a SPLAT!
I remember growing up and going to the big top circus with my parents. We nervously awaited the flying trapeze artists who would dazzle us from high above the arena floor. The talented artists would fly, jump, spin and catch one another with precision, often times only inches from disaster. Each time they missed a catch my heart leaped and I let out a gasp watching my circus hero tumble to the safety net below. I’m willing to bet they planned some of the falls just for dramatic effect. Believe me, it worked!
My anxiety level reached an all-time-high the year I went to the circus and the trapeze artists refused to use the safety net.
You can bet I hung on their every move.
You’re counting on your Trapeze Buddies to come through and catch you as you encounter various twists and turns in a normal day on the job. Unfortunately in your business, if your Trapeze Buddy misses you there are no safety nets. In fact, spikes are usually sticking out of the ground! And I bet there has been more than one time when you’ve gotten skewered.
So, what can we do to be caught more and dropped less?
Included are four critical elements for a successful Trapeze Buddy relationship:
1. TEAMWORK
Critical to everyone’s success is teamwork. Teams work best when everyone: knows the desired outcome or goal
- understands their responsibility and contribution in reaching that goal;
- is aware and prepared for the obstacles that might stand in the way of accomplishing the goal;
- appreciates the unique characteristics and abilities each player brings to the team;
- knows they can count on one another to give the task at hand their very best.
2. COMMUNICATION
A major cause of dropped Trapeze Buddies stems from a breakdown in communication. Precision communication is the name of the game when working hard to be caught more and dropped less. Try this: Stop for a moment and consider your last five headache experiences with your Trapeze Buddies. I’m willing to bet as you dig deep for root causes, something wasn’t quite right in the communication process. Fix this one item and you’ll accomplish more with fewer headaches and hassles.
3. PRECISION TIMING
Working with your Trapeze Buddies requires precision timing. Customers have expectations that must be met on a timely basis. Precision timing means simply: be your word on everything. If you say you’ll have documents to a client at 9:00 a.m., have them there by 9:00 a.m., if not sooner. If a meeting is to begin at 11:00, get it going by 11:00. Do what you say you’re going to do, the way you said you were going to do it, in the time frame you said it was going to be done. Period!
If for some reason you won’t be able to come through on a deadline or agreement, for goodness sakes, let people know sooner than later.
4. EXTRA EFFORT
It’s been said there is very little traffic on the extra mile.
Extra effort with your Trapeze Buddies can set you light years above your competition. Team performance, productivity and effectiveness along with customer satisfaction is positively impacted by the little things that make a BIG difference.
Challenge everyone in your organization to be on the lookout for opportunities to implement the extra effort mentality. The game of business is simple-look for ways to be caught more and dropped less with the people you count on most. The end result will be a breakthrough in individual and team performance and you might just regain a portion of your sanity as well.
Good catching!
2005 © Mark Rosenberger All rights reserved.
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AUTHOR
BIO:
Mark Rosenberger, CSP helps companies transform employee performance, productivity
and sanity. He is a sought after speaker, performance strategist and author of
six books. Do you count on certain people to make your life work? Discover how
to be caught more and dropped less, plus achieve more than you ever thought
possible – download the FREE Trapeze Buddy e-Book at http://www.NoSplatZone.com!
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If you want to be more successful in your small business you need to know the six “P’s” of personal marketing. Brand your small business brilliance with the powerful concepts of personal marketing that the author, Robert Moment, has to impart below…
“THE 6 P’s OF PERSONAL MARKETING”
Copyright © 2005 by Robert Moment
Written by Robert Moment – www.sellintegrity.com
Unless you’re using every advantage of Personal Marketing, you’re not achieving all of the potential success that is sitting there waiting for you to grab. Personal Marketing means that you’re providing the right impression of your small business, right down to the smallest detail. If you want to be more successful in all your various endeavors- and especially in the case of a small business- you need to know the six “P’s” of personal marketing. These are a set of concepts developed by business and entrepreneurship experts that give you the key to unlocking your potential.
PERSONA
Who are you? What is your small business all about? What kind of customer service do you provide? What are your business values? What are you proud of? What makes you different from the competition? These are questions potential customers and clients must answer for themselves in a short period of time. How they answer them depends not just on what you say or what kind of persona you have managed to convey to them. Your policies, atmosphere, customer service, integrity, and overall quality are all factors that you can usually control. Your business “personality” has to shine through, so don’t waste time wondering if they’ll like you. Simply be yourself and they will.
POSITIONING
Everyone knows you have to be at the right place at the right time and know the right people-right? While this is true to some extent, more important to realize is that you can put your business in the right place when the time is right and get to know all the right people. Positioning is how you do it- and this simply means you want to make sure you’re always in the best position possible.
PACKAGING
Just like you make decisions about the products you buy based on their packaging, so do prospective customers and clients. They make a decision about your business as a whole by the atmosphere you put forward, the quality the packaging of your specific products implies, and the additional support, guarantees, and other peripheries that you offer. When it comes to personal marketing, packaging is a behind-the-scenes kind of preparation that’s only really obvious if you don’t do it, or if you don’t do it right. If you’ve ever wondered how someone gets to be “the whole package” it’s because they put the time and forethought into all the little things that many others overlook. Just a little attention to your own packaging can help you market yourself much more effectively.
PRESENTATION
Just as important as making sure you’re “the whole package” is paying close attention to every aspect of your presentation. Again, this is a lot of little things that add up to a big impression-and you always want to make a good one. It’s an unfortunate reality in today’s world that appearances do matter, and they play a large role in how prospective and current customers see you. Those who market themselves effectively know that how you present yourself is of the utmost importance, and it goes beyond just having a fancy exterior. Providing quality service, standing behind your products and services, presenting effective follow-up, and maintaining an overall professional and polite impression are all crucial elements of your presentation.
PROMOTION
Perhaps the most important element of personal marketing is promotion- shameless self-promotion. You know your business, including its strengths, what makes it stand above the rest, what makes it a good “deal” and what qualities you possess: it’s absolutely crucial you convey this to potential customers.
PASSION
Last but certainly not least in the concepts that make up personal marketing is passion- for what you’re doing, for who you are, and where you’re going. Customers are looking to know you- so don’t waste time trying to be something you’re not. Instead, let your passion- your enthusiasm and energy for the job you’re doing and the things you love- shine through and you’re sure to meet with the kind of success you’ve always dreamed of.
Remember, the key to effective personal marketing is confidence. Don’t be afraid to let others know what makes you great, and why you’re the best choice there is.
© 2005 Robert Moment.
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AUTHOR
BIO:
Robert Moment is a business strategist and author of “It Only Takes a Moment to Score” found on Amazon.com and Barnes and Noble. Robert shows entrepreneurs how to turn ideas into wealth, how to avoid becoming a statistic – and have FUN! Download the FREE Special Report, “17 Ways to Turn Your Content into Money” at http://www.sellintegrity.com.
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“LEGAL
REQUIREMENTS FOR PLEASURE CRAFTS”
Copyright © 2005 by Amach Besnoeing
Written by Amach Besnoeing – www.fyicrafts.com
To many people, sailing is one of the most exciting activities. Some of them possess their own pleasure crafts, and you can watch them navigating in the river or at sea. If you are an individual who loves sailing and have the money to purchase a pleasure craft, you must make sure to meet the basic requirements. Although the shipping laws may vary from country to country, many of them are standard. These lawful requirements have to do with hull identification numbering, conformity plate, and licensing requirements. So, read the following to be a law-abiding navigator before getting the handle of your craft.
First of all is the licensing number. Your craft must be licensed whether it weighs less than 20 tons or is fitted with a permanent or temporary motor that is 10 hp. or more. The Customs Department of a country issues this license; some of them charge a fee for this service. Eve if you sell the craft you must retain the original license number, and report the ownership change of the craft to Customs.
Some countries make it mandatory for the pleasure crafts to have a permanent hull identification number. This number must be placed on the starboard side at the end of the hull, or on the upper starboard quarter of the transom, if the craft has more than one hull and no transom. The law does not permit you to take out, alter, or change the hull identification number. Normally, the first three numbers designate the craft manufacturer; while the rest make reference to month and year that the craft was built.
A capacity plate is another important element in shipping requirements. Crafts produced in series, which do not exceed 6 meters in length, and are equipped with an engine of at least 10 hp, must have attached to the engine a capacity plate. This plate, which indicates the recommended maximum gross load, as well as the suggested maximum number of adults that can be carried onboard, must be placed in an area easily viewed from the helm. You must obtain this capacity plate from the manufacturer or supplier at the moment of purchasing the pleasure craft. The person who operates crafts must make sure that the plate is onboard.
For the crafts that do not have a capacity or conforming plate having an engine of at least 10-hp must get fixed as a single vessel plate. It is a must especially in the case of the crafts that are home built, the discontinued models or in cases of manufacturer’s inability to provide a capacity or conformity plate. The craft operator must make sure that the plate is available while navigating. If the Coast Guard checks it and in case the operator is unable to find it upon requirement the operator is going to be charged with fines and penalties. So make sure you are fully equipped lawfully and otherwise before you go out adventuring.
__
AUTHOR
BIO:
Amach Besnoeing is the manufacturer of Fyi Crafts, which is a motivating reference for craft needs. For all the cutting and pasting opinions, visit: http://www.fyicrafts.com.
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“FRESH SEAFOOD
HAS SO MANY HEALTHY PROPERTIES”
Copyright © 2005 by Coleen Panetti
Written by Coleen Panetti – happyseafood.com
Fresh seafood is both great tasting and great for you as it is indeed a healthier alternative to fatty red and white meats. When it is prepared well, seafood can almost swear you onto a seafood diet forever.
Fresh seafood does not always mean that it has not been frozen; it sometimes means that it was frozen fresh. After all, if you didn’t buy it frozen, you would be limited to only a few choices of seafood instead of being able to enjoy seafood from around the world.
If you decide that really fresh, unfrozen seafood is what you prefer, there are a few things to look for to ensure you are really receiving fresh seafood. The first thing you look at are the eyes; make sure they are clear, not bulging. Next the gills should be red, not even slightly pink. The flesh of the fish should feel firm. Most importantly the fish should not have a fishy smell to it at all. To keep the seafood from going bad y