5 Brief Minutes on Income Disparity and why people keep trying to sell me shit...

Two for the sofa…

This was a week I saw coming a mile away.

You ever have one of those weeks? The kind that you’ve been predicting for some time, saying things like, “One of these days, we’re going to have to…” and then you do?

That was this week.

For months now, I’ve been saying to Vicky, “We’re going to have to start keeping Suki downstairs at night. She just can’t take the stairs the way she used to.” Suki is our Shiba Inu. She’s about 14. (This is the point where Vicky will correct me. I’m terrible with these things.) Where she used to be able to trot up and down our stairs several times each day, recently, she’s been slipping and sliding. Her back legs have been going out on her. She stumbles.

It’s just not pretty.

So, this was the week. Suki moved downstairs.

And though I hadn’t been mentioning this next bit to Vicky, I knew what would go right alongside that – right alongside Suki, I mean. Me. That’s what would go alongside of her. Me.

I had to move downstairs, too.

Because Suki did not like moving downstairs at all. Not one bit. She would begin crying and the only thing that put her at ease was another person with her. And Vicky needed the bed. Vicky works a real job.

So, downstairs I moved. Suki took her dog bed. I took the sofa.

And, let me tell you, my back is not built of solid steel, the way it once was. Nope. Now, when I sleep on the sofa, my back kind of conforms to its horrible curves. I wake up feeling like a dingbat font.

But this is what you do. You know? If we had kids, I’d be up with them. If we had an elderly parent living with us, I’d be… you know what, I don’t want to think about that. Anyway, Suki is like an elderly parent. And she needs me.

She’s stinky and she sheds. She’s standoffish and never listens. But she needs me.

This is what you do.

Jackemoff Forest? The strangest new web series from Ken La Salle begins... NOW!

Heroes of the PCT…

As much as that title sounds like it belongs in the old west, I’m actually writing today because the big kickoff for this year’s Pacific Crest Trail expeditions (north to south) begins in less than a week!

You may ask yourself, “Why are you excited about this?” And you’d have every right. After all, I’m not hiking the PCT this year. Hell, I haven’t even gone on a hike this year.

(I suck!)

But, see, the thing is I really want to do the PCT. And my goal is to do it within the next five years or so. To do that, I’m learning what I can, getting my body into shape, and most importantly I’m getting my career off the ground so I can afford to do the hike. (Pacific Crest Trail thru-hiking ain’t cheap!)

In the meantime, I watch and learn from those who go before me. I read blogs. I watch YouTube videos and I am intensely envious of those who are doing it. You gotta admire someone who makes that kind of commitment and puts in that much effort.

So, bravo heroes of the PCT! You’re all doing something majorly kick-ass! And I’ll be watching and hoping for the best.

Maybe I’ll be out there very soon…

5 Brief MInutes returns with Signs...

A Tale of Two iPods…

A few years back, I cancelled my gym membership because I realized I could do everything I did at the gym much closer to home. Actually, at home! I could jog and I could cycle and I could exercise and all without the stink and sweat of horrible people all around me. I could do all of this without having to watch Fox News, which 24 Hour Fitness seemed to love putting in front of me. And I could do it all to the beat of my own drum… er, iPod.

I didn’t have to listen to the same crappy music they played at the gym over and over and over and over again.

And that’s what I did. I started jogging and cycling and exercising, all to the tunes I had on my iPod Nano, which clipped right onto my shirt. I was saving money and getting a better workout as well!

… all until the day when I lost my iPod.

That’s the problem with the Nano, you see. It’s small enough to clip to my shirt – well, the Gen 6 version I had – but also small enough to MISPLACE! And that’s exactly what I did about a week ago.

And lengthy, intense search commenced… and I found nothing.

Damn!

Worse still, Apple has discontinued the good Nano (Gen 6) and replaced it with some oversized, overweighted, big, fat, stupid looking… Gen 7. The dummies… Seriously. Have you seen these things? They’re hardly small enough to be considered “nano” at all!

What to do?

Well, as it turned out, Vicky had picked up a Gen 6 Nano at about the same time as me – lo, those many years ago. She’d never loaded hers up with music. It was fresh. It was (dare I say) virginal!

And it was mine! (Once Vicky generously offered to let me “borrow” it.)

And I learned something interesting about iPods. It was something I hadn’t really suspected.

You see, I had loaded up my previously Nano a little at a time. Whenever I purchased some new music, I would throw some of it on the iPod.

Now, faced with a fresh iPod, I had to load it all up from scratch.

This took me two days! In the end, I had – nay, have – 1.7 days of music, over 700 songs!

… some may consider this overkill.

But I like having plenty of music to choose from, as I set the Nano to shuffle every single time… That sounds positively boring. But I promise you, it’s not.

In fact, I’m electrified, dying for a chance to take it out for a jog or a bike ride!

… tomorrow. First thing tomorrow.

Vicky bought donuts.

(Not the ending you were expecting, was it?)

Had a great morning on the Indie Books Show...

This morning, I had a lot of fun speaking with Will Willson on the Indie Books Show. I'm including it here and I hope you enjoy it!

Popular Books Internet Radio with Indie Books on BlogTalkRadio

This month, My Side talks about Amber Alerts...

Radio de'Olde presents "Pandering"...

)

Rainy Days and Mondays…

So, I couldn’t sleep last night… I know. Old news.

But I couldn’t sleep last night and got to thinking about how it was going to be Monday and about how it has been raining and… no, it doesn’t take much to keep me awake at night.

Anyway, this reminded me of the old song: Rainy Days and Mondays. And I thought about what a random list of things that is. Rainy days and Mondays always get you down? Really? How more random can you get?

 

“Gusty evenings with late night and early morning low clouds and the third Saturday of each month gets me down.”

“Slightly overcast days – not cloudy or smoggy but just slightly overcast days and hard boiled eggs that aren’t actually hard but only slightly approaching hard – I mean like just about thirty or so seconds underdone always get me down.”

“Red and black get me down. Red and black. You have any idea how much red and black there is in the world? I wanna blow my fucking head off whenever I see an apple… at night!”

 

I’m just saying… it gets you thinking.

Keeping all these balls in the air…

Hello and welcome to the Ken La Salle blog…

Oh. Wait. Sorry. Wrong blog.

But I thought I’d talk about my writing a bit over here just in case the people in this neighborhood didn’t want to go all the way across town.

With the end of 2013, I had hoped that 2014 might be a bit busier. That more things might be going on. Because 2013 was like a tomb – by which I mean it was quiet and not that I was living with dead people.

Well, here we are in 2014 and I recall the words of the person who said, “Be careful what you wish for.” Now, I have two staged readings going on – one this weekend at Wild Rumpus in NY, if you’re in the area. I’ve been offered a couple of contracts. I have new work pouring out of me. I’m so busy, in fact, that I’ve been forced to put some projects aside. My YouTube videos, for instance, are going to be off for about a month.

I feel like an amateur juggler, wondering how I’m going to keep all those balls in the air.

But please don’t think this is a complaint. Heavens, no!

This is exactly where I wanted to be and, while it’s not the fulfillment of all of my dreams, it certainly goes a long way towards putting my neuroses at ease.

Not all of my neuroses, of course.

This might sound strange but – it looks like I’m becoming a writer. That’s so cool!

(I will never get used to this.)

An allegory for modern life?...

I was out on my morning jog this morning when something happened that got me thinking.

I was only jogging two little miles thanks to my bum foot but I’m hoping I’ll soon be jogging more. Anyway, I was on my way back, nearly halfway through the second mile, when I caught the eye of an woman walking up the street the other way. Keep in mind, she was on the sidewalk and I was in the street.

I don’t know if this woman was homeless but she certainly looked like she was facing some troubles. Everything about her was dirty. She carried several plastic bags that looked like a mess. And the way she walked was a kind of shamble.

She was about 15-20 yards away from me and, as soon as I caught her eye, she charged up to me out into the street. She puffed up her body like an ape might do to establish dominance. She even took on the same kind of stance and stride as an ape. Mostly, though, she looked bumfuck crazy. She looked like she was about to attack me or something. If she was trying to look threatening, she nailed it.

So, she charges us to me, looking very threatening, and then stopped right in front of me. I mean, she was inches away. She brought up both of her arms, with bags in tow, and thrust herself forward just the slightest bit.

I didn’t know what to do.

I mean, she startled me. I had no idea what was going on. But I also knew something was very wrong – this isn’t the kind of thing that’s supposed to happen.

So, I said, “Excuse me.”

At that moment, her eyes shifted. Before, she had been staring at my chest. Now, she looked up into my eyes and I could see the slightest spark of humanity there.

And I went on my way.

And I couldn’t help but think that’s how so many of us interact, especially online: ready to prove our dominance, ready to attack, and with no recognition for the humanity in the other person. But when we treat the other person with humanity, it can go a long way.

Certainly, it’s a better option.

Some book news! Daughter of a One-Armed Man...

... is now available in paperback!

Just click here to pick up your copy of Daughter of a One-Armed Man over at Amazon.com!

I used to play video games…

So, figure this one out.

I used to play video games. I played them quite a bit. I played World of Warcraft and I played the Elder Scrolls games. I played Civilization in all of its carnations and I played all the GTAs they released for PC. I played a lot of video games back when I had a full time job and I would think about how much more I would play if I had the opportunity.

Fast forward to now and… where the hell are the video games?

Here’s the thing. These days, I work out of my home pursuing my career as a writer. What do I do? Generally, I work on pursuing my career as a writer… all the time!

When I worked for other people, I couldn’t wait to stop so I could go do something I wanted to do. Now that I do what I want, that’s all I do.

This may sound like pointless whining but the fact remains: I played more video games when I didn’t have the time to play them than now, when I should have more time to play them. Why is that?

I guess I’ve reached the point in my life when I get to do what I want and I don’t need to escape from the reality of a life in which I don’t. I am thankful for this, very much so, but it strikes me as strange how my life has become about that one thing, about writing.

I don’t know how much time I have, after all. I have to make it count.

The video games are just going to have to wait.

Here are 5 Brief Minutes on ASMR...

Pitch just about Perfect…

Admission time: I love Pitch Perfect. Yes. The movie about a cappella singing.

No, it is not a Glee clone or a High School Musical rip-off.

No. It’s not. Seriously.

You see, that’s what I thought it was when Vicky first recorded it. She wanted to see it and I said, “You go right ahead but don’t think I’m going to watch that nonsense.”

Vicky is very tolerant about my dislike for some of her stuff. I think that comes from her dislike of much of my stuff: music, movies, books, sometimes my skin – you name it! So, she was perfectly fine with my need to avoid the flick. I stayed upstairs and played video games while, downstairs, she enjoyed the film.

At one point, I had to come downstairs to refill my drink or something and caught about two or three minutes of the… and you know what? It wasn’t half bad. I mean, I didn’t think it was great but it wasn’t half bad.

So, I agreed to watch it with Vicky on the provision that I could bad mouth it all I wanted.

The only problem was… I couldn’t. My face was stuck in a permanent grin.

You see, I thought this was going to be another one of those “we’re such cool, young movie stars that we can make whatever shitty musical crapfest we want and you will love it” kinds of shows, such as the aforementioned Glee and High School Musical.

Sure, Pitch Perfect is derivative of what came before but only in so far as it recognizes the mixture of performance/sports movie tropes. Then, it shreds them. Rather than being a movie about cool kids who do things perfectly, it’s a movie about nerds who screw up. But it is so infused with joy – and the hipster in me can’t believe I’m saying this – that you can’t help but be on their side.

On top of that, the movie is flat-out funny. It looks for every joke and it finds them. Sometimes, it even goes too far… but I can look past what is probably an overly ardent dedication to a puke joke.

Anyway, there you go. Vicky and I watched Pitch Perfect about five or six times now. I’ve even bought the fucking soundtrack.

It’s not like me to enjoy something so populist, so downright appealing to the masses… but I can’t help it.

Pitch Perfect, you’re just about pitch perfect.

It's time for some Bible Stories, care of Radio de'Olde...

“Writer” does not equal “Child Molester”…

 

So, I’m at a local tire shop this morning getting new tires put on my car when the guy asks me what I do for a living. I hate that question because, to be honest, I don’t really do anything.

I mean, I write. I can’t avoid that. Look at all my books, audiobooks, etc. etc. etc. Yes, I write. But I hate admitting it.

Even when I said it, I mumbled it a little, as if I was on the fucking sex offender list or something! “I’m a (pause) writer.”

What the fuck is that?

I don’t really like talking about being a writer because, honestly, I don’t make a whole lot of money doing it. Right now, my career is still in its infancy in a way. I’m building an audience. I’m not a big-time writer.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not a writer… right? (Sure - easy to say after I just wrote an entire paragraph of qualifiers...)

I try to remind myself of that but then I am hit by all the years of having people tell me I shouldn’t think too highly of myself. From childhood until early adulthood – you know, the formative years – I had people tell me I wasn’t that great, from my best friends in high school (or so I thought) all the way on up to my own mother. And, yes, this had an effect. Vicky gets so irritated about how I shy away from any kind of attention – it’s a pain in the ass!

I should be soaking it up. Reveling in it. But every time I come face to face with who I am, I am positively embarrassed. Hell, even if I was a big-time writer, I'd still be embarrassed because of what the above-mentioned folks used to refer to as being "full of myself." There's just no winning!

I know that’s the wrong way to live.

I’m working on it. Honestly.

Furniture, Networking, and where I went wrong…

A lifetime ago, in the city of Irvine, California, I used to work for a company called Linksys.

This was long ago, mind you, before Linksys was owned by Cisco, before Linksys was owned by Belkin, before Linksys was owned by… who’s buying it next?

I worked with a guy named Mike who was our Marketing Manager. I worked as a Technical Writer but had started as a Marketing Writer and still wrote marketing pieces when our Marketing Writer who wasn’t very good with marketing and could only write technical information needed a little help. Frankly, I always found myself on the short end of demotion after demotion and disciplinary action after disciplinary action.

I always wondered why things didn’t work out with Linksys when clearly – and I am not bragging here – I was a valuable asset to the company. I could write better than anyone else on staff. I came up with catchier taglines. I was a catch!

Mike didn’t think so. He would tell me how he intended to keep me in technical writing as a kind of marketing purgatory. He wanted me to suffer. He would say, “You’re going to keep churning out widgets for as long as I tell you to churn out widgets.”

It was a fun place.

And I always wondered where things went wrong. And then, recently, I found myself at a Staples store with Vicky. She was off taking care of her business stuff – Vicky is a fucking mogul, make no mistake – so I wandered over to the networking gear. Sometimes, I like to see how much progress has been made in my old line of work so I’ll go check out the networking gear and… Nothing. Same old shit. Frankly, the networking business has been pumping out the same old shit, with just an incremental improvement here or there, for nearly a decade.

Back when I was at Linksys, Mike would bring in the entire marketing department for these round-table discussions about where networking was going. He would talk about how your refrigerator would be networked so it could tell you when you were out of milk. Your TV would be networked so it could tell you when a show was on that you wanted to watch. Your sofa would be networked. Your catbox would be networked.

And then, Mike would make the mistake of asking us what we thought. What were our opinions on his prognostication about the future of networking? Everyone would speak up loudly, telling Mike what a genius he was. Of course, catboxes would be networked. It made perfect sense! Milk had to be restocked! Shows had to be watched!

… except for me. I would sit there with a red face, holding everything back, and Mike would see me and he was ask, “Ken? What do you think?”

And I would take that as an invitation. “You’re crazy,” I would tell him. “People can just check their refrigerators. They can look at their TV listings. Sofas? Catboxes? You are out of your fucking mind!”

And for some reason I just couldn’t fathom… I never got ahead.

The fact is, I never fit well in a place like Linksys. I was a round peg and all they had were square holes. I wanted to be an artist. I didn’t want to blow smoke up someone’s ass. I thought people wanted honesty… they don’t.

I can see now why I never made a lot of friends in business. I thought people wanted honesty. Sadly, that isn’t quite the case most of the time. Vicky has found herself in business opportunities where honesty is valued. In marketing, you better take that shit somewhere else.

That was a long time ago, of course. And now, I’m pursuing the “writer” thing. I’ve learned to temper my honesty with a little bit of tact. After all, Mike was right about the TVs, just not exactly on how they would be networked. All the same, I still hate people who are just looking to have smoke blown up their assholes. And to think, I’m in the arts now.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

My Side: Kids Today...

This month, My Side looks at Kids Today... and the people who endlessly complain about them...