The Wind Through the Keyhole,

Dear Reader,


My E-reader sits on my bedside table, the electronic E-ink screen shows the cover for this book, The Wind Through the Keyhole, another Dark Tower novel, how could this be, the series is complete, the journey finished? I reach out for the E-reader, and wonder.....

As I slowly approach, I understand that, although it has been a long time since we last held palaver, we will be well met, here along the beam.
I tap my throat three times, Hile Gunslinger.
Hile to you friend, he nods his head with an almost un-perceptible motion.
He is wearing old faded blue jeans, they actually look grey, covered in dust from roads long traveled. His shirt, at one time might have been red, it is difficult to say, but it is equally dusty, the all too familiar big iron on his left hip, sandalwood grip sticking out from the holster, the bit of the steel that is visible looks to be well oiled. His hat expertly placed to keep the sun from obscuring his line of sight.

I address my old friend using the high speech, I do this as much to welcome him back , as to show the respect to a gunslinger, hile Roland, son of Stephen, of the line of Eld, welcome back from Mid-World, to the land, and the when, of the rose.
Thankeee friend, long days and pleasant nights to you.
And to you gunslinger, may you have twice the number.

He casts his head from side to side, as he looks around, as much to loosen the stiff, sore muscles, as to pier at what to him is a strange world. It is true he has visited our “when” in the past, New York to be exact, I can’t remember the exact year that he visited, a few different years to be sure, but he has crossed over from Mid-World a few times, each with a specific reason, even if the first time he walked through the door, he was not sure what it was he was supposed to do, but, Ka is a wheel after all.

He looks at me, removes his hat, I can see easily the scars on his right hand, as he runs the remaining two fingers through his thick mop of hair, the scars from the fingers that were taken by the Lobstrosoities, the reason that he now wears only one gun.

It has been many and more years, since I last heard from you Gunslinger, your quest completed, how is it you have returned to this “when”, do your travels continue, and if so to where, will you say true? I ask him this, out of complete surprise, I had not expected to ever have the pleasure of palaver with him again.

I say true, Brian, as with my Ka-tet, say true. My quest completed, I think so, but with the ending of one, begins another, ya ken? The beams are no longer crumbling. However long was my journey, we met some good people, and as always, because a coin has two sides, we met some bad people, those we could help we did, and say thankee, some we left where they fell, but I am a gunslinger, and have been from the time when I bested Cort, my teacher as a young lad, and the first of my Ka-tel to win my guns, so I must continue to protect the beam, and those who cannot protect themselves. Remember well, that I am the last of the line of Eld, I must protect the rose, and keep it safe, I believe it still has work to do in this when as in mine.
What would you have of me old friend, for I must soon move on?

I would have palaver, I tell him, I would have a story, if you could spare a bit of time, for it has been many and more years since the last.
I look up at Roland, look at his eyes, so full of sorrow, grief and knowledge, I hope that perhaps a story might help to bring the spark back into his lonely existence, a short story perhaps, perhaps a story with a happy ending.

Roland sees me looking into his eyes, he sees the hope that I am trying so hard to convey, he smiles, says, there will be water if god wills it. I have just enough time to tell you one story, the rose will still be there, when it is done.

 

-----

When I visited Stephen King’s web site last year, I was surprised to see the ad for another Dark tower novel, surprised and excited, another book, another adventure, we all thought that Roland’s quest was complete.
I made note of the release date on my calendar, then as the day drew near, I would visit King’s site every day to make sure the date had not changed, once the day was upon us, I would then go to Chapters and look for the release in the E-reader section, I ordered the Wind Through the Keyhole as soon as it was available.

After downloading it to my Kobo, the savouring began, like a rare scotch, you don’t open it right away after buying it, you set it on the bar, then as you walk buy it you would perhaps run a finger over the embossed logo, or read the label once more, then when the time is right you can open it and enjoy.
When I finally began reading The Wind Through the Keyhole, I was immediately taken back into the Dark Tower story like an old friend, it was like the years had disappeared, from the last novel to this one. No dear reader this new addition to the series is not a continuation of the series, it is an addition to the series, fitting neatly between Wizard and Glass (4), and Wolves of the Calla (5).

I loved this book, and again like that bottle of scotch, I did not want it to be over, so I actually stopped reading it when I reached about 92% complete, I left it where it was for a few days so I could savour the story a little bit longer.


Long days, and pleasant nights, dear reader.

bfn Brian

The Storm

Dear Reader,

The Storm

This is Clive Cusslers 10th instilment in the NUMA series.  Our heros of this series are Kurt Austin and Joe Zalva.  Kurt is the head of  NUMA’s Special Assignments Team, NUMA stands for National Underwater and Marine Agency.

NUMA is a research organization linked to the US government, they study everything and anything marine, and occasionally they would have a land adventure, but it would usually wind up being linked to the water in one way or another.

Clive Cussler has a few book series on the go, and two of these are NUMA related, the NUMA series, and the most famous one is the Dirk Pit adventures. Dirk pit was made famous in the movie Sahara, Dirk was played by Matthew McConaughey. (a sigh from the girls).

In the Storm, we are attacked by some kind of eating swarm of water bourn sludge, for lack of a better word, that completely devours anything organic, or oil based, including plastic, and wood, so much for our little research vessel that gets caught in the wake of these creatures.

After the NUMA research vessel fails to report in, Kurt and Joe are sent to the Indian Ocean to the last known location of the boat.  They find a burnt out hulk, no people just fiberglass, and the scorch marks where there was obviously a fire, in and around the pilot house.  With all three of the NUMA employees on the boat having undergone extensive training in survival and all being excellent boaters, after all their livelihood is being on the ocean, Kurt is puzzled by the fact that both fire extinguishers on the boat are still hanging where they belong, why would the crew let the fire just burn?  Fire on a boat in the middle of the ocean is one of, if not the biggest no nos of all, so why let it burn, what were they trying to do with the fire, or what were they trying to burn?

Back on dry land Kurt and Joe begin their investigation, meeting a girl who introduces herself as the sister of one of the crew, NUMA being a large government agency, Kurt and Joe were not familiar with the entire crew or their family, so they ask a few questions the girl seems to have the right answers so off they go in search of whomever or what ever caused this unfortunate tragedy.

Along the way we meet up with the notorious villain, who has devised a plan to change the world’s weather pattern, he has already begun, to the highest bidder will go the rains, millions will suffer, unless Kurt and Joe can find a way to stop him.  This book introduces us to one of the newest technologies created by man, as well as an old technology that was never used, but is still fiercely guarded by one last remaining tribe of WWII inductees, waiting for new orders from the commander in chief. Kurt will use one against the other to bring down the mastermind behind this latest threat to our fragile ecosystem.

This is the second of the three books I received for Fathers day this year, this one was from Sarah, thanks Sarah, this was, as expected, a great adventure to bring with me on the first week of vacation.

I highly recommend you read Clive Cussler, his adventures are always fun to read, he captures the imagination of the reader, as well as his characters, as they leap from the page and come to life on their own.

bfn Brian

 Dear Reader,

Bad Luck and Trouble

Jack Reacher is the main character for a total, so far, of 16 novels written by Lee Child. Bad Luck and Trouble is number 11 in the series. Lucky for me Child has written this particular book so that the reader does not need to have read any of the previous books.

This book was a fathers day gift from Patrick, I can’t remember if Lee Child and the Reacher novels are listed on my blog page, “Books I Want To Read” but it has for some time been on the list I keep in my head.  Why don’t I just log in and check my “Books I Want To Read” page?  Good question Dear Reader, one that I can answer with a smile, I am at this moment sitting on the side deck at the cottage in Southampton.  The cottage does not have internet access, we are lucky to have cable TV, but no internet, we like it that way.  Lianne has 3G on her iPad, that is about as far as it goes for being civilized up here.  I will hike over to Coffee Culture later this week, and for the price of a good cup of coffee, I will upload this blog, and perhaps even the next one, as I am 80% through my second book, we have been here for a total of  4 days. Nothing to do but read, and sharpen my chain saw blade,( I hit a piece of hidden concrete in a stump?)  A bit of Bad Luck?

In Bad Luck and Trouble, Jack has a head for numbers, he is a retired Military MP, who headed up a Special Investigators Unit, I am not exactly sure what they would be investigating, perhaps a book closer to the first in the series will answer this question., but we do know that “you do not mess with the special investigators”.  Reacher walks up to an ATM, before he insets his bank card, the only plastic he carries, he calculates exactly how much money he should have, adjusting for interest, to his surprise he has too much money in the account, exactly $1030.00 too much, a bank error, or is it something more.

He takes out $50, them finds a quarter and calls the bank. Nope not a bank error, a deposit in his account, but by whom, the back can’t divulge that information, but if Mr. Reacher were to say, come up with a name, the bank might be able to not confirm that is was not that particular name on the deposit, ya know before 911, and the whole terrorist attacking the home land, the dam bank would be able to tell you who deposited funds into your own back account. Reacher gets his name, Frances Neagley.  Neagley, an MP as well, she worked for Reacher for a few years in the Special Investigators Unit, they have known each other for more that 10 years prior to that, One thousand and eighteen dollars, 1018, it’s a military code, for urgent assistance required.  Reacher knows that Neagly works for some big security provider in Chicago, so Reacher was sure that she was not looking for help to find her car keys.

A short plane ride later, Reacher walks into a restaurant where Neagley is patiently sitting waiting for him, neither one of them is surprised, after all it is what they do, they find people, some good, most bad, and if you put yourself in you preys shoes, think like them act like them, then it becomes easier to find them.

We learn from Neagley, that another member of the Special Investigators Unit, was found dead, not overly surprising  that some are dying off, they lost one from a heart attack, one in an auto accident, but this one, Calvin Franz died after falling out of a helicopter. The helicopter did not crash in the desert just Franz did, along with two broken legs, obviously broken prior to the nudge out the door, so he was made to suffer.

Neagley wants Reacher to put the team back together, money is not a problem for Neagley, she can finance the operation, she wants whoever killed her old team mate, Reacher agrees, why because you don’t mess with the Special Investigators, and someone, somewhere just did.

Getting the team together is bitter sweet, they find an additional two alive and willing to put their regular lives on hold, and they are unable to find the other half of the team, until another shows up, in the middle of the desert, with the same impact trauma as Franz.  It seems that someone is tossing the Special investigators out of a helicopter, time to begin some serious investigating. 

This book flows wonderfully, at no time did I cringe when the author changed tacks and moved to the other side of the story line, I was as eager to learn what the bad guys were up to, and extremely happy when we moved back to Reacher and his team, Child sticks with a single story, shows both sides, builds suspense while slowly revealing what is really happening and why.  The book has good guys, bad guys, bad cops, government involvement, old memories, renewed friendships, military technology, and one great slogan to live by.  “You Do Not Mess With The Special Investigators.”

Well Dear Reader, I think it is time to pick up the chain saw and see how much trouble I can get into.

bfn Brian

Brimstone

Dear Reader,

Fire and brimstone, this phrase can still strike fear into mortal man, the stories of Lucifer, and man making packs with the devil, selling our souls for a few years of , of , what, fame, notoriety, wealth, a woman.  Yes apparently more men then women have sold their souls to the devil, and have paid the price. Some of us are still paying the price, and suffering for it, no not from the devil, from the women.

Have you ever noticed that on TV, it is mostly the male contingent of the human race that  find themselves in turmoil from performing some “heroic” act. Have you ever wondered why?

It’s the guys who tend to wind up in bandages, and leg braces, or arm casts, it is difficult to breath when you have you’re ribs wrapped up to aid in mending those o so brittle and fragile bones, have you witnessed a girl trying to drive a jeep up a steep mountain side only to have it tumble back down to the bottom?  I think not, you won’t see any girls piling up inside the jeep to “go for the ride” either, but every seat in that jeep will have the drivers buddies ready for the thrill, yessir, a full house, or jeep, or whatever.

You’re buddies will be there every step of the way, be it a jeep up a hill, or a toboggan down a hill toward a forest at the bottom, or trying to go airborne in your parents car on a country road, no, alcohol is not always a factor, we just believe that we will miss the tree, and we believe in the strength of the human spirit and the strength of our bones to mend and be as good a new.

The truth is, the men were built for adventure, speed, daring, ok, not speed so much, not originally anyway, but we were built for endurance, and cunning, ok not cunning so much as brute force and ignorance, and not ignorance so much as adaptability.  It was up to the men to bring home the meat, and we had to be tough, rugged, strong, and we had to be daring, and we had to risk, risk everything, risk getting hurt, to bring home dinner.

We would first whack a girl over the head, drag her back to the cave, get a fire going, and while she was still out cold, we had to set the table and light the oil lamp, then we would have to go out into the cold, un-yielding world and hunt down a ferocious Woolly Mammoth, smack it over the head and drag it back to the cave, make some Mammoth chops, cook them and when they were almost done, the afore mentioned girl would wake up and take over the cooking, and make a salad, because the man was tired from a days slaving, and cleaning, and shopping, and dragging stuff back to the dam cave. Then after dinner the man would go back out into the cold, un-yielding world, catch a saber tooth tiger by the tail, then ride the thing up the side of mountain.

So, you see it is because of the women, that we do these stupid things, sometimes we do them to relax after a strenuous day in the wild, some times we do them to attract the girls, but mostly we do them because it just feels right.
In Brimstone, we have our illustrious FBI agent Pendergast back once again, this is book 5, in the series of 12 books that I am re-reading.

Pendergast is going up against, old money and an old family, as well as a few adults, who as young boys, (yes the male once again) while traveling abroad, in between school semesters, took part in an evening of worship where they gave their souls to the devil.

These boys grew up into men, some with money some with less, but all had brains, and all begun to die.  Fire and Brimstone, surrounded the bodies, the devils mark upon them, horrible, a totally horrible way to go, screaming while you are essentially burned from within. Nothing else in the room, or in the area would be burnt, nothing smoldering other than the victim, and not all of the victim, there were usually feet or hands or things like that left un touched. What manner of device could do this if not the devil himself.

Pendergast teams up with an old friend from a previous adventure, then Lieutenant Vincent D'Agosta NYPD, now Sergeant D’Agosta, due to his retiring, then getting back into the policing game a few years after.
Pendergast and D’Agosta, wind up traveling back to the scene of the original conjuring to look for clues as to why these people were in harms way, and why was the devil after them. Pendergast, true to his form makes no friends along the way, his methods are unorthodox, to say the least, they are effective to say the most. In this novel, Pendergast again pulls a rabbit out of his bag of tricks, twice, once to save himself from a would be professional shooter, lying in wait, and again later when he and D’Agosta are about to be thrown into an old un-used mine shaft, with a bit of extra lead above their shoulders, someone wants them out of the way, once and for all.  Alas, the would be perpetrators find themselves where they would like to have seen Pendergast and D’Agosta, someone will have a surprised look upon their face when they show up, un announced at the castle, and  home of the killer.

Ahh, but it does not stop there Dear Reader, you will have to find out for your selves how the victims seemed to burst into flames without burning anything else in the room and behind locked doors, what does a  priceless, missing Stradivarius violin have to do with the killer, or killers, how does Alfred Nobel fit into the equasion.

The ending of this book leaves our FBI Special Agent Aloysius X.L. Pendergast, in a bit of a pickle I’m afraid, one that even he, with all his talents might not be able to free himself from…        Without help.

Remember Dear Reader, when you make a pact with the devil, she has the right to change the rules.



 bfn Brian

The Gallows Bird

Dear Reader,

The Gallows Bird, is a loner book that I must return to the person who borrowed it from the original owner.  I do hope that I did not curl the pages, or mess up the pages too badly, but after all a book needs to be opened in order to read it.

When it was suggested that I might like this book, we had been discussing "The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo", and this book is written in a similar manner, the author originally wrote it in her mother language, and it was translated, so when I was handed the book, I noted the name and was curious as to it's meaning, so I asked the book lender (PS) what the name meant, she told me that she was not exactly sure, the same goes for the owner of the book who loaned it to her, so what does the Gallows bird have to do with the book, let us see.


The definition of a gallows bird;
-a person who deserves to be hanged.

This definition dates back to 1775, perhaps even further, but this is what my research has found.

 I have had conversations with others who believe that the gallows bird is what they would call the crows who would hang around the gallows, waiting for their next meal. Or perhaps a newer definition might be someone who preys on others.

The book opens with a car accident, the driver of the car, a woman apparently drunk, had been driving with way too much alcohol in her system hit a tree, and since the tree did not move out of her way she died behind the wheel.

Our local police department is dispatched to the scene to investigate, the lead investigator, Patrick will not be happy with what he finds at the scene.  Before leaving the station to go to the accident, Peter meets the new station addition, she is a investigator who has just moved into the area with her husband.

Hanna, the new investigator,  accompanies Peter to the crime scene, where they find the unfortunate driver still behind the wheel, the tree in better shape than the car.  Our lead investigator notes that the driver has on her face what appears to be some bruising and what might be sticky residue around her mouth, both of which he finds out of place and peculiar,  I yell at the book, “its tape, she had tape on her mouth”, but Peter does not hear me.  I am at a loss as to why the tape would have been on her mouth, and Peter is at a loss about the whole thing, for now, but he does seem to have a tickle of memory about a case a few years ago.

While the police are looking at cars wrapped around trees, and drunk drivers, there is another interesting thing happening in town, it seems that a national television channel has chosen this particular town to host the next rounds of their “reality” TV show, like we need another reality show.  Anyhow, the show is about a group of a few older teenage kids, who’s only job is to drink too much, swear too much, argue, get into trouble, party, and get it all on tape to be edited for the viewing audience. Hmm seems like a winner eh?

The television producers have hired a psychologist to help the kids with their various issues, and hang-ups, after all the idea is to see if they can be turned into acceptable adults, as all the kids have personal issues that affect them in different ways.  This shrink just happens to be the husband of our new police investigator, how fortuitous for him, he just moved into town and gets hired to help out with the kiddies.

Mellberg our chief of police, or station chief, is not a likeable guy, at least by his fellow officers, they have nothing nice to say about him.  Mellberg finds love at a local dance, after years of being single he has finally found the girl for him, funny, he has not seen her at the dances before, but this fact does not prevent him from going all out.

Patrick and Hanna visit the ex-husband of the car crash, funny thing he tells them, his ex did not drink, not a drop, not ever?  So Patrick is correct in thinking that there was something funny about the whole thing.  Sure, I say it is the tape that was on her mouth (but I did not yell this time).
Another strange death in town, seems a drunk, got drunk and dies of alcohol poisoning.  The autopsy’s of both victims at this point in the game, show the same thing, that they had way too much booze in them to even stand up, much less drive.

All the while Patrick and his girl are planning their wedding, Patrick must solve the biggest case his department has seen in years.

The kids are drinking, and fighting, partying, and dieing.  Dieing?  Most if not all of the show contestants seemed to have ganged up on one of the girls, bullying her, accusing her of talking behind their backs, then she shows up dead. No, no booze this time, just another murder to solve for Patrick and his team, even Mellberg actually has some useful incite to add, it must be love, that has cleared his head, that or all that,  well, you know.

Patrick and the team begin to look for other strange cases in and around the area with the same strange circumstances.  And they start finding some, they start putting the clues together, to finish the puzzle that started with a single car accident, alas, Patrick puts the last piece into his puzzle.

 No, sorry you will have to read the book to find out exactly what happens, to see who killed whom, and why, do we find out who Hanna and her “husband” really are, does Peter finally get married, does Mellberg find true love, ah dear Reader, pick up the book, turn the pages, then you and I will talk.

Ok so back to the title.  The Gallows bird, hmmmm.  The original Swedish title is actually Olycksfågeln.

The literal translation of Olycksfågeln, thanks to Dictionary.com is “Accident Bird”

It would appear that the author decided to use the title The Gallows Bird, perhaps because it could have a few meanings, as I think it might apply to the book.

Could it mean;

-The normally quiet town, boring really, looking for something to bring them fame, or at least to be noticed, could this be the rope hanging in wait.
-The reality show contestants, drinking, fighting, looking for trouble, finding it, could this be the trap door.
-The hangman standing patiently, as the noose is placed around the neck of the accused, as did Mellberg wait all his life for “the right girl”.
-Hanna and her “husband” arriving on the scene, just as the first murder occurred, the noose is tightened.
-Patrick’s marriage to his long time girlfriend, patients, a virtue, the trap door opens.
-Hanna’s “husband” the only person who has access to all the contestants, to perhaps plant the seeds of doubt, as the knot slips home.
-The murderer waiting, planning, acting, getting his or her revenge on the world, after all those years, in the end the feet kick, twitch, then are still.
-Perhaps the victims deserved what they received, the Gallows Bird gets his meal.



 bfn Brian.

Locked On

Dear reader.

 I think that this book is one that is on my books I would like to read page, well fancy that, I finally got to one.

Locked On is written by Tom Clancy, and it features none other than the infamous Jack Ryan, and His son Jack jr. Jack sr. is once again running for president, it appears that he lost the presidency to his current running opponent 4 years ago, whom, by the way will stop at nothing to make Jack look "anti american", impossible I say.

I can still see Jack as a young annalist, in the Hunt For Red October, do you remember this conversation in the chopper?

Helicopter Pilot: Fuel status says we turn back now.
Jack Ryan: Wait a minute. Fuel status? You have a reserve, don't you?
Helicopter Pilot: Yes, sir. I've got a ten minute reserve... but I'm not allowed to invade that except in time of war.

Jack Ryan: Listen, mister, if you don't get me on board that goddamn submarine, that just might be what you'll have! You got me? Now you have ten more minutes' worth of fuel, we stay here ten more minutes!  

It appears that the son is turning out to be like the father. Locked On has more of Jack Ryan jr. in it than his father. Jack the younger, is training to become a full time member of an all new covert team, called "The Campus", created by Ryan himself during his first presidency. (I have always liked the "Rainbow Six" moniker).

The book begins with a helicopter gun ship, flying low, flying quiet, lights out, so one can get ready for a lot more action. Ryan jr. the newest team member, has been training for months, he is sore and covered in bruises from his hand to hand combat training, now he must join the team, travel over seas and help to overt a war between India and Pakistan, as well as trying to help his fathers oldest friend and fellow Campus member out of a difficult situation, one that could potentially loose the election for dad.

You will have to read Locked On, to find out if dad wins the election, and if Jack jr. manages to succeed as the newest member of the Campus, does jr. screw up, get shot, or will he be the hero, or both? I think the best Clancy novel for me has been The Bear and the Dragon, I enjoyed Locked on as I'm sure you will. 

bfn Brian

The Game

Dear Reader,

I am not an enthusiastic sports fan, I would rather attend a game than watch it on TV, and I would rather watch a game with friends, than watch alone.  I have not, for many years watched a regular season game, be it baseball, or hockey, but I have and will watch the final game of the Stanley Cup playoffs, especially if I can convince a friend to join me.

I have attended hockey, baseball, basketball (once), and auto racing events.  I enjoy the feel of the crowd, the exhilaration of everyone getting caught up in the game. Oh ya, I almost forgot, I attended a midget wrestling once, no, don’t ask me why, it was not my idea.

Golf is ok, but boring as hell to watch on TV, soccer, lacrosse, cricket, lawn bowling, hold no fascination for me, I have other things I would rather do than watch.  When I was younger I would watch the Olympics with my sisters and my mom, lots of figure skating, and down hill skiing, we only had one TV, it was 3 against 1. I did not often get my choice up on the black and white screen (Yes I know who Victor Newman is).

Ken Dryden, was a student first and a goalie second, he played from 1971 to 1979 for the Canadians, he took 1973 off to attend University in Toronto, his home town, then went back to Montreal to play for the Canadians.  He retired when he was 31, and owing to the fact that he studied law between games and during the off season, he was in a good position to begin his second career.  The Canadians off season was never as long as the other teams during Dryden’s time with them, because they would continually with the Stanley cup, 6 in total.

The Game was another birthday gift, a paper copy from “the in-laws”.  While in the news everyone was busy debating what/who should win the 2012 Canada reads contest, I was hoping that it would be The Game, only because I have always liked Ken Dryden, and every time I would hear his name I would be taken back to my youth, and with a smile on my face, I would remember the game.

Dryden is probably referring to many “games” in this book, there is the game that you and I know, and that is the game of playing hockey, there is also the game of being a hockey player, and the game the players play in the dressing room before the game, the banter between players, the building up of big egos, getting bigger and ready to face the opposition, the game of practical jokes in the dressing room, Dryden tell a story of how before many games, he would pull out his skates from under his section of bench in the dressing room, and the laces would be cut off and left hanging, its helps to cut the tension, and relax the team. As Dryden brings the game to life, in his book, he talks about how the game has been improved along its long journey, he referrers to the many hockey “greats” that where around during original 4, then 6 and how the league has expanded to now having 30 teams.  The original 6 teams are fondly remembered as the “original six” because this was a period after the1930’s when the league settled down and began to look like the real thing. 

Over the years rules have changed, added and removed, lines were added to provide first the blue lines, then the red line, to speed up the game, to allow the players more flexibility, with the addition of the lines came new rules again.  Most of the rules were created to make the game faster, more exciting.  We have moved from a backward passing game to a forward passing game, more speed, bigger players, and harder hits.  It might be time to start only passing backward again, slow it down and save a few brains from concussion.

A flurry of memories arrived on my doorstep while reading this book, As I read the names of the players I remember from my youth, Maurice Richard, Bobby Orr, Bobby Hull, Jacques Plante, Phil Esposito, Bobby Clarke,  Frank Mahovlich(the big M), Henri Richard, Brad Park, Tony Esposito, Yvan Cournoyer, and of course  Ken Dryden.  There are too many to name, did you get goosbumps reading the names, I do, goosbumps and waves of youthful memories, go ahead and click on a name. 

I remember back when I was 7 or 8 years old, I was not allowed to stay up late to watch Hockey Night In Canada, it was on much too late, “aww, but mom it’still light out, no fair, it’s the playoffs”, well anyway too young to stay up, but I did have a transistor radio, whats that, what is a “trasnistor radio”, well all you children of digital audio players click here.  So I’m scooted off to bed no TV it’s late, but I have my radio, once I was snuggled into bed,  I would tune in to CBC and listen in.

Street hockey was also a favorite past time on my block, we had kids from blocks over come by to play on our street, because we were good, real good, we actually had 2 nets, this was important.  Most of the players would have plastic blades on our stick, when our wooden stick broke, a trip to Canadian Tire, a bit of allowance money, and presto you can screwnail a new blade onto that shaft, don’t forget to slowley heat it up over the stove ellement to give it some curve.  “What, you mean an 11 year olds can’t use the stove top, oh, sorry about that, but I was careful, ya ok, I won’t do it again”.  A tennis ball, a bunch of kids in running shoes, well ya can’t run in boots, yelling screaming, laughing, scoring, I hated having to chase the ball when “the most powerful slapshot in the world” went wide of the net, you shot it you chased it.

I, on occasion would don the golie pads, borrowed from someone’s big brother and play net, sometimes we would even have a golie stick, but they were expensive, so a regular stick would do, except if you held it over the stove too long and had too much of a curve on it, now it starts to work against you, how do I know, well I could almost pick up a tennis ball with the curve on my stick it was crazey huge, golies hated my wrist shot because it usually went high, and that is where the golie’s face is, so they would kinda move aside, I would shoot, and I would have to go get it, because it went over the net.  Hey the curve was great for shooting the ball over everyones heads at the net, great way to move it forward, afterall Hockey was not a forward passing game.

There is one thing that I want to mention, something that I feel has been lost in the game of street hockey.  I am not exactly sure of why it has been lost, but over time some things tend to evolve, some for the better, and some for the worse, there are some things though that I feel should not have evolved at all, there are some things associated with street hockey that should allways stay the same as they were when our grandparents were young, have you figured it out yet? That’s right, it’s the net, remember how when you would see a car coming down the road, everyone would yell “CAR” and then both nets would be dragged or sometimes carried it if was a new net, to the side of the road, all the players would get off the road, leaving the road for the car.

Wow what an interesting thought, move the net, get off the road, wave to the driver, stay safe, play safe.  How ‘bout we see if we can resurrect this time honored tradition, teach you’re kids, grandkids, neibours kids, to move the damm net and get off the road.

The Game was a wonderful journey through the evolution of hockey, I had never thought about the life of a player off the ice, had no idea of the evolution of the game as it moved from pond hockey to indoor areanas, from a backward passing game to forward passing, rules, lines, paychecks, contracts, from a sport to a business. Here are two passages form The Game, I think you will agree with them, I know I do;

 “I know that in any way an athlete can be measured, in strength, in speed, in height or distance jumped, he is immensely superior to one who performed twenty years ago. But measured against a memory, he has no chance”.

“The “golden age of sports”, the “golden age” of anything is the age of everyone’s childhood”.

Thanks for the book Joan, it will be one I keep and treasure and perhaps re-read one day.

Game On.

bfn Brian

Fruiting Bodies, and other Fungi

Dear Reader,

Honest, Dear Reader, this is the title of my latest book.  Taken from my not so slowly dwindling supply in my bag -O- books, one that I was not sure about, was not certain that I would even be able to read.  I am one of “us” whom, at times, will actually judge a book by its cover, (or its name).  I have looked at this book several times, flipped it around in my hand, checking out the back cover and finding myself not believing the raving reviews that I see printer there. I mean, really, would anyone print a bad review on the back of their book?

So after reading several other books from MI, (the bag-O-books previous owner), including the Psychomech series by Brian Lumley, I decided to throw caution to the cover, and read it, after all with a name like Brian, how bad could it be?

This book is a collection of Lumley’s short stories, science fanticy/horror the first one is the reason for the name of the book, it is Fruiting Bodies, but what the *%@$ is a Fruiting Body, well it’s time to learn.

• Fruiting body (bacteria), the aggregation of myxobacterial cells when nutrients are scarce.

There, that pretty much sums it up then.

OR:

• Fruiting body (slime mold), the sorophore and sorus of a slime mould.

‘nuff Said. Lets move on shall we.

I don’t often read short stories, I find that there is not enough time for the writer to build the plot and the characters to a point where the reader can become one with the story.  I like to become “invested” in the book. True often times short stories are the beginnings of a larger work, using the short story to “test the field”, to see if the story might gather a following, and then actually be worthy of becoming folded up into a full length novel, most times, I think the  short story stays just that, short, and the few pages used to hold such a work of fiction are left to gather dust, left to rot in a corner of the garage, in the damp, and the dark, to mold, thus providing nutrients for bacterium….. until such time as the nutrients become scarce, then other things begin.

I found two stories in this book of fifteen, to my liking. 

The first is called “The Man Who Felt Pain”  Imagine in the future, being an astronaut, in a deep space training program, youthful and eager to know everything there is to know about the “real” outer space, the outer space beyond our galaxy, sounds pretty cool. Until you begin to feel the pain of others, the actual physical pain from a paper cut, or a broken leg.  Imagine walking along the sidewalk, and BAM, you are on the ground writhing in pain, not able to move, you have no physical injury, but you feel the pain of someone else, someone who just broke their leg, they must be close for you to feel the pain.

How would you control this new sensation, these sensations, for the ‘attacks” are growing more frequent, you begin to feel the pain of people further away, headaches, heart attacks, burning lungs from smoke inhalation, somewhere someone is trapped in a burning building, oh my god they are burning, burning, the pain, ooohh, “help me, it is too much, I’m dying, help, help.” But then it is gone, you are exhausted, you rest, then it begins again, someone else, more people, more pain, over and over. Never any mark left from the agony.

How would you deal with something like that, feeling the pain, with no where to run, it builds until you feel the pain of the city, it must have limits, dammit, “I must find somewhere far away, away from people, animals,” yes, even the pain of birds flying into statues, windows, the squirrels, oh my even the ants, “:stop, everyone stop stepping on the ants, ppplease, help me, get me away, far awwaaayyyyyy.”

The answer is there, staring you in the face, if only you survive long enough to get there. Unless of course, that is what caused it in the first place.

The other story is called “The Thin People”.

Human arrogance would let us believe that we are the only creatures with any form of higher intelligence, living on this third planet from the sun, or with an understanding of “being”.  However, just look at Harry Potter, an entire race of magical people living amongst us, and we don’t even know, we never see them, or remember seeing them.  We do understand that there are other beings in the universe, far, far away from our little rock, but what about right here, in you’re neighborhood.

We have seen these strange creatures, as they show up in the many shows that we watch on television, all the episodes of Star Trek, Star Wars, Alf, Buck Rogers, and we cannot forget Dr. Who, (who?).  These shows did not just materialize out of thin air, the creators had direction, oh sure they will tell you that it was all them, but in the end we will see that their creativity was nudged, and massaged, we will understand that we were led into a long and slow acceptance of what we at some point will finally learn, that we are not alone.

Remember men in black (MIB), another preparatory moment for us humans.  But back to the “Thin People”, it is not difficult to believe that we are living amongst other sentient beings, it is possible that these “people” are so thin that we might not be able to see them clearly, especially if they are as tall as a lamp post, as wide as a lamp post.  If these people only venture out of their homes (thin homes), only at night, and when they come within eye sight of humans, they pretend to be lamp posts or hydro poles, we humans would not see them, after all we are all caught up in own lives, we tend to miss big things, like new paint on a wall, or a different picture on the newly painted wall, we miss noticing that new hair do, “I’m sorry I did not notice you changed your hair, wow, I like the light blue”, sometimes we are so caught up in life we miss dinner.  It is reasonable that we would miss seeing the Thin People.

Remember the next time you look out the front window onto the street, check to see if that lamp post is still there, or if it has moved. The thin people are not fond of automobiles, or loud noises, they will actually destroy you’re car if it is loud, so fix that muffler, turn down that radio.  If you find yourself in a neighbourhood that is quiet, and automobile free, count the number of lamp poles, then check back again in a few days.

bfn Brian

ps; I'll have the stuffed mushrooms.

How To Do Everything

Dear Reader,

How to do Everything From the Man Who Should Know, a book by Red Green.

I'm not surprised that the man who is the leader of Possum Lodge, Chapter 11, in Northern Ontario, would eventually get around to wrting a book. Actually Red has written a few books. Red has sooo much knoweledge in that head of his it is only natural he share it with us.

I remember Red's television show The Red Green Show, and the previous show called Smith and Smith, both were comedies, and both featured our unique brand of Canadian humor. 
Steve Smith aka Red Green was born in Toronto, yep right here, he produced the TV shows in Hamilton, he is a real hometown boy, but his heart belongs to Northern Ontario, where the Possum Lodge is.

Steve was awarded the "Order of Canada" in 2011, and continues to perform as Red Green.

This self help book is actually my first ever self help book, I received this book from Patrick for my birthday, thanks Pat. (What are you trying to tell me?)

My favorite part about this book, or rather my favorite chapter, is the chapter on hanging doors. I agree with red when he tells the reader that the single most difficult thing to do is to hang a door, unless of course you are to buy all the door pre hung in frames, then it becomes much easier, but to buy a door, then have to cut in the hinges and the door knob, well I suggest you take Red's advice.  Buy all the doors pre-hung in their frames, and then build the house around them.  It's that simple.

Speaking of doors, I did have the opportunity to hang a door recently, and I did not have the luxury of having it pre-hung in a frame, let me tell you about it.

A friend purchased a doggy daycare in downtown Toronto, called Umbrella Pet Services, everyone is helping out to spruce the place up a bit, and I was asked to put a new door on, what I call the utility area.  The building is old, not ancient, but old, made of cement and brick, with wooden floor beams reinforced with steel I beams, old.  When I first saw this door I realized that it was going to need to be changed, and this is when I started cringing, damn I hat hanging doors.
Now I have hung doors in the past, I have build cabinets requiring doors, ceder chest with doors, covers for electrical panels with doors, but for the most part, I built the doors first then build the cabinet around them, (you got it right Red).

At first glance the door opening appears to be a standard 30" wide, so a 30" wide door is purchased, and luckily it already hade the door handle holes in place.  All I have to do is cut in the hinges, hang the door and hope that the latch matches the hole in the jamb.
Before I measure and cut for the hinges, the existing door has the top 1/3 cut off, so anyone in the utility area can still look out and see the dogs, hear the dogs, and provide direction to the dogs, like, "no barking", (ya right!), and "stop chasing after Fluffy", and "no humping before lunch" (ya right!), things like that.  So I measure the door height, transfer my numbers to the new door, clamp on a straight edge for my circular saw, and begin to either ruin a perfectly good door, or hang a perfectly good door.
Yes, thank you Dear Reader, I will fill in the top of the newly cut section to maintain the strength, good idea.

Next I measure and cut for the hinges, measuring is easy, cutting them is not so easy, but we manage to get them in the correct spot, phew.  Time to mount the hinges, then mount the door, and voila, the door will not close.  What???   So I carefully measure the old door, which by the way is a complete right off, imagine a herd of 60 to 80 pound dogs charging the door, over several years, trying to get at their lunch, no, not not the employees behind the door, but the dog food that is stored there, the door is trashed, careful measuring tells me that the door is about 1/4" smaller than standard.  Dammit, now I have to cut off the hinge cutouts I so carefully made, remember that the handle hole is already in place when it was purchased, can't cut that side, OK, lets get on with it. 
I measured the opening and trying to read the tape measure with the thing curving back toward you is not an exact science, but it looks like 29-3/4", most of it anyway.  More careful measuring, clamp on my straight edge saw guide, and off comes, 1/4" of door along with my carefully placed hinge cutouts.
I put the hinge cutouts back in, only after checking to see if the door will fit, it does, now will the latch line up?

The latch lines up, after a bit of further adjustment, the door closes smooth as you like, now to reinforce the top of the door where I cut it shorter.  Here AT, the owner of Umbrella came up with a great idea, put the 1/4" piece cut off from the door edge on top of the cut section of the door to cover up the glued in inserts, and make it look nice.  Well it does look nice, and the new door has added to the overall look of the daycare.

There you have it Dear Reader, and remember, "If the women don't find you handsome, they should at least find you handy.

bfn Brian.

Spider Bones and Thunderhead

Dear Reader,

Spider Bones by Kathy Reichs is a book that I purchased and had given to Lianne for her birthday, or was it Christmas.  Either occasion is always good for bestowing a book or two.  As I was purchasing this book for her, I had no thoughts about reading it myself, it was just a book on her list, she wanted it so, I got it for her.

As I'm sure I have mentioned before, I have many, many books of my own, waiting to be read. Between my last blog and this one I read a book that I did not actually post a blog about, for that I apologise, but I'm sure it will happen time and time again as we move forward.

The book that we missed is called Thunderhead by Douglas Peston and Lincoln Child, yes that is correct Dear Reader, Preston and Child are the authors of the Pendergast series that I am slowly re -reading, good memory.

Thunderhead takes place in southwester Utah, where Nora Kelly, and archaeologist, leads a team into a maze of canyons looking for treasure. After receiving a letter from her father who disappeared 16 years earlier describing the long lost path that leads to the treasure.  Nora assembles her team, hires horses and follows the path her father took all those long years ago.  Did Nora find the treasure, did she find her father, you will have to read the book to find out.  I will tell you that we all must be careful of what we wish for and be prepared to face the consequences and responsibilities of what we aspire to.

After finishing Thunderhead, I was reviewing my choices for my next read, in my E-reader I have the next 3 Pendergast novels, I have one other Preston novel,  something by Tom Clancey, as well as a few paper books waiting, not to mention my bag-o-books from MI.  So I pick one of Lianne's books instead of one that has been waiting patiently for me, for, well for ever it would seem.  Lianne told me that she saw it on one of the ten best novels list in the Globe and thought it looked interesting.  Ok I think let's try a new author, I say, and I am glad I did.

Spider Bones is a mystery, not quite a "who done it" mystery, but a "who is it" mystery.  Dr. Temperance Brennan, a forensic anthropologist, is asked to review the remains of a Vietnam Solder who had died in the Vietnam war and was buried in the USA in 1968. She was asked to investigate the remains because, a person with the same fingerprints was found dead, floating in a Quebec river.  If he died in Vietnam, and is buried in North Carolina, how could he be floating in a river in Canada?

The mystery grows larger, as we are following the trail of bones from one grave, perhaps with the wrong person in it, to Hawaii to seek the help of the Joint POW/MIA Accounting Command (JPAC), whose mission is to find the remains of American war dead,  and identify them.   The JPAC actually exists, check out this link.

Why is the wrong body identified in this grave, or is it the right body and the finger prints from the dead river dude  are wrong?  Could it be a mix up in Vietnam, could someone have miss identified the person, but wait, we now have two more skeletons, as yet not identified, and they all seem to fit together, did they all died in the same helicopter crash in 1968?

Our good Doctor Brennan runs into family members of dead US solders who refuse to provide DNA samples to assist in positively identifying their sons, and brothers, she finds herself getting chased by bad guys, gets run off a cliff into the Pacific Ocean, not the deep part of the ocean, but near the shore where is a little shalower, we can't have our star bone expert drowning now can we.

Who is in the grave in North Carolina, who's bones are in storage in Hawaii, why will no one provide DNA.

Kathy Reichs in real life is a Doctor, she teaches FBI dudes how to deal with dead bodies, bones etc, and her novels are the basis of the TV show Bones.

Spider Bones is a great read, easy to follow and alot of fun.

Next up is  a book I received from "the boy" How To Do Everything: (From the Man Who Should Know) by Red Green.

 bfn Brian

Dead Before Dark

Dear Reader,



This is another book given to my by AT.  This one is your typical murder mystery, no flashy trips into the future, no flying cars traveling at 300 kilometers per hour, or rather miles per hour, no one getting genetically enhanced, or “improved”.  Hey, have you noticed that in the future some countries still have not embraced the international standards for measurement.



This book does have a few things that make it an interesting read. The first thing is that this book has not one, but two characters who have some sort of sixth sense.  I’m not talking about mom having eyes in the back of her head type thing, but a genuine ability to pick up vibes from “things”.  Well, ok the book might have two of these people in it but only one has the ability to use and control the ESP power, the other one is kinda like mom’s ability to “pick up” on things, and sometimes even receive mental pictures, we all receive mental pictures, but this girl gets them in colour, and while her eyes are open.

I think the rest of us get our mental pictures while we sleep, and mostly in black and white, or faded colours at the most. 

Although, many years ago during my, oh, 6^th attempt to quick smoking I tried using the nicotine patch, this would have been not long after they were developed, around 1990 or 1991, and man did I have the most vivid colorful realistic dreams ever. I always said that I would go back on the patch if only for the dreams. I did finally quit smoking in 1997.



Enough about dreams, oh wait just one more thing you should check out the Blog called “The REM Files” the link is on my sidebar, some interesting stuff, ok so now back to Dead before Dark, the storyline is carried quite well, I found myself actually slowing down, as I neared the end of the book, I did not want the story to end, I wanted to allow the suspense to build, not that Wendy was not doing a good job of that herself, I felt that as I neared the end of the book, the story deserved my entire focus, and unlike the beginning or middle of this book I found myself reading every word.

Our main character becomes entangled in a suspenseful mystery that actually started 30 years in the past, no we did not time travel back to have a look, as long as you agree that the telling of memories is not actually traveling, well physically anyway. Our psychic is the main character, she along with an old friend (linked to a murder victim), a new friend (retired FBI dude), who originally investigated a serial killer who’s trail went cold and who stopped killing, some family members and other various other cops and FBI all end up tracking what appears to be the same killer 30 years later.

Perhaps the killing 30 years ago stopped because the killer was arrested and jailed for another crime, or he just decided to take a break, is he still in jail and someone else started up after hearing his stories, after all when you are in the big house you tend to brag on you’re “badness” to ensure that you are not on the bottom of the food chain, or so I’m told.

We do hear from the serial killer throughout the book, we get into his thoughts, we get hints, little caveats, but never any real idea of who he is, how he is tied to the various players and why he is killing all these people.  Of course he does leave us clues, small links to the past, and to the players, he wants Lucinda to figure it out. Oh, who is Lucinda, right I have not introduce her properly have I.  Lucinda is our main character she is the police detective/ESP sixth sence, eyes in the back of her head, “I have a bad feeling about this”, all around likeable, young, rich, perhaps soon to be heroine of our story.

The killer wants to be found, if you believe every book and TV show with a serial killer, and he wants, yes we are sure it is a he, he wants Lucinda to do the finding, after all every clue, every murder is leading her and the rest of the police and FBI right into his maze of confusion and ?????.

Will Lucinda lead the police to the killer, will she become a victim, or will she just go crazy as the clues start pointing to her as the motivation for the killing, will the voices in her head overcome her, break her, perhaps the killer is not a man after all.

One thing that I was not ecstatic about in this book is the way in which Wendy moved between her story lines, I had to go back to the last paragraph or sometime further to see if I had missed something, as she moved from one storyline to the next she did not bring me with her, as a reader I mean.  I think that Wendy should try to trim down on her descriptions, not everything requires a detailed description, and some things need no description at all, here is an example. “Have a seat, want a can of pop? Jason asked gesturing at the vending machine that works.”  I never did find out about the pop machine that did not work?  Sometimes less is better.

I will read another Wendy Coursi Staub book sometime, as I believe she knows how to create suspense and intertwine her audience with her characters.



bfn,
Brian