In Cold Blood
I get it, how he came to do it. It’s happened to me plenty of times. She just won’t stop talking, or doing what I tell her. All that screamin’ and cryin’ and threatening to tell my wife. I don’t know what came over me that last time, the time I had no plan, the time I got caught.
See usually I have plenty of self control, like walking away when I’m burnin’ up inside. Like at a bar. I used to drink too much and get into these fights. I’d have killed plenty more if not for my friend Ralphy. He’s bigger’n me and back then he did plenty of thinking for me, knowing I didn’t want to kill nobody in front of a barroom full ‘o witnesses. What I do is wait a day or two, ‘til the fool gets into it with a half-dozen other low-lifes that’ll look just as good for the killin’ as me. Then I watch for a day or so, get to know his habits. When there’s a good place, isolated, you know? Like a dark parking lot or street or something, that’s when I do him. I make sure he knows who he messed with and why this face is the last one he’s gonna see in this life.
I don’t use no weapons, never, just these big ‘ol hands God gave me. It’s easy to snap a neck or pop a pipe if you know what you’re doin’. It’s like this, I walk up to him, real quiet, then when I’m in position I make a noise, maybe clear my throat or even say his name. That surprises them, puts them in a small panic, then a quick pop in the middle of the face, I keep my middle knuckle raised a bit to really sting the sinuses. Nobody can deal with that. If they don’t go down they squeezes they eyes real tight and the tears flow, along with blood, usually. That’s when I get my hands around their throat and bring them down, like I said, if they ain’t already. Then I say what I’m gonna say, look ‘em in the eye the whole time and watch the fear well up, kind of come to the surface like water coming to a boil.
I get a real shiver in my chest right then, just before that moment when they know this is it for them. Now this gonna sound real bad, but I want you to know. I get this feeling in my chest, like my whole upper body is a big ‘ol penis ready to explode. My privates don’t get that, I think that’s sick, but from my throat to my waist, that what I get and there ain’t nothin’ like it. When it’s over I usually have my trunk lined in plastic and take ‘em up to this special spot I know along the lake. I got real good at knowing the rip tides and putting just the right amount of weight so they move along for a good while. OPP found one of mine up near London a few years back and pinned it on one of their own. Got a kick out of that. Canadian cop so much as said since it wasn’t a gunshot it couldn’t ‘a been from the US side. Laughed at that for days.
So when that ex-cop killed his baby momma, I 100% understand. Probably wanted her to get an abortion or move away or somethin’. More child support. You don’t mess with a man’s money. That’s what happened to me. Just got sloppy, I guess.
This is a character from one of my Mystery-Thrillers. It is not me...I don't think...
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Saturday, February 16, 2008
We Are All Witnesses
"The best way I can describe it is sky-writing. It was beautiful, soaring, and for the most part unreachable and fleeting. He talked about John McCain as though they were already opponents in the national election. Smart."
HUDSON, OH -- That is a phrase that is tagged with banality to an athlete. We know it well. It is draped across a wedge of a building near the place where this young man plays basketball. Yet every morning before a primary another game of round-ball is being played. Not for a $65 ticket and a multimillion dollar contact, but to keep a candidate healthy.
As I mentioned in an earlier piece, there is something historic happening here. It is the rise of stratospheric rhetoric and electrifying charisma and audacious hope and maybe - God help us maybe - a change for the better. Mr. Obama calls himself a "hope-monger," it is a clever ear magnet. His speeches are a combination of Kennedy and King, Reagan and Graham. He promises new ways for Americans to tap into the collective resource of a massive and growing government.
He is clearly a liberal; a progressive, if you prefer. I watched his speech tonight, preaching to the choir in the most liberal town in Middle America, Madison, Wisconsin. I also watched Mrs. Clinton trying to coral the lead in Texas and Mr. McCain with a small crowd of supporters in Virginia. Here's what I noticed: it did not matter what they said. Much of the speeches I watched with the sound down. Mr. Obama looked like he was already president. Mr. McCain looked about the same as he has over the last two decades. Mrs. Clinton appeared, frankly, desperate.
Then I turned up the sound. Barack Obama's speech was much like his writing and other things he represents. The best way I can describe it is sky-writing. It was beautiful, soaring, and for the most part unreachable and fleeting. He talked about John McCain as though they were already opponents in the national election. Smart. He spoke highly of the American hero McCain. Smart. And he talked to the folks, identifying with the challenges of everyday life. Smart. Hillary Clinton was offering local flavor, as though she were a longhorn, one of them, and together they aren't about to let this outsider mess with Texas. Not smart enough.
We are witnesses, and once again Ohio is the prize. I can only hope that when Mr. Obama completes his monumental sprint toward history, he remains flexible and learns how to govern. Because right now all I see is a projection of the president he hopes to be. Should he win, reality will overtake hope like a fast break from you-know-who.
HUDSON, OH -- That is a phrase that is tagged with banality to an athlete. We know it well. It is draped across a wedge of a building near the place where this young man plays basketball. Yet every morning before a primary another game of round-ball is being played. Not for a $65 ticket and a multimillion dollar contact, but to keep a candidate healthy.
As I mentioned in an earlier piece, there is something historic happening here. It is the rise of stratospheric rhetoric and electrifying charisma and audacious hope and maybe - God help us maybe - a change for the better. Mr. Obama calls himself a "hope-monger," it is a clever ear magnet. His speeches are a combination of Kennedy and King, Reagan and Graham. He promises new ways for Americans to tap into the collective resource of a massive and growing government.
He is clearly a liberal; a progressive, if you prefer. I watched his speech tonight, preaching to the choir in the most liberal town in Middle America, Madison, Wisconsin. I also watched Mrs. Clinton trying to coral the lead in Texas and Mr. McCain with a small crowd of supporters in Virginia. Here's what I noticed: it did not matter what they said. Much of the speeches I watched with the sound down. Mr. Obama looked like he was already president. Mr. McCain looked about the same as he has over the last two decades. Mrs. Clinton appeared, frankly, desperate.
Then I turned up the sound. Barack Obama's speech was much like his writing and other things he represents. The best way I can describe it is sky-writing. It was beautiful, soaring, and for the most part unreachable and fleeting. He talked about John McCain as though they were already opponents in the national election. Smart. He spoke highly of the American hero McCain. Smart. And he talked to the folks, identifying with the challenges of everyday life. Smart. Hillary Clinton was offering local flavor, as though she were a longhorn, one of them, and together they aren't about to let this outsider mess with Texas. Not smart enough.
We are witnesses, and once again Ohio is the prize. I can only hope that when Mr. Obama completes his monumental sprint toward history, he remains flexible and learns how to govern. Because right now all I see is a projection of the president he hopes to be. Should he win, reality will overtake hope like a fast break from you-know-who.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
XM X’d Out
They say that writing while angry is a good thing; that the emotions flow and the words jump from the screen and poke the reader in the eye. Right now I feel like I have been poked in the eye and other less convenient places by a very unwelcome assailant.
And it all started with an otherwise very friendly phone call.
I have been a subscriber to XM Satellite radio almost from day one. It is a great service with one glaring exception. As far as the programming they provide is concerned I have nothing but praise. But when I called to change my plan – actually disconnect a radio that I am no longer using – all that goodness went right down an especially nasty drain.
Three years ago I extended my plan on three radios to three years. The price was right and at the time it was well worth it. That is no longer the case. I can’t afford to spend that kind of money – over $900.00 – on a convenience that we don’t use as often as we once did. In the course of talking to “Listener Care,” the woman mentioned that the card on file had expired. Fair enough, I was going to redo a modified subscription and its well to get that out of the way.
By the time I had talked to another woman and gotten an arrangement that was more fitting, the card I had given was charged an auto-renewal for $916.00; another three years! Wait a second, let me repeat that. They charged me nearly a thousand dollars without one word indicating that they were renewing the very subscription I was calling to change – and now cancel.
Would you be furious? Would you feel as though this big company reached into your account and robbed you? I did, and someone had to pull me off the ceiling.
We have a credo in radio: make one listener happy and he will tell ten people; make one listener unhappy and he will tell one-hundred, who will tell another one-thousand! This is a great way to ruin a business, especially one that is struggling to get off the ground. Satellite Radio may have a 21st Century name, but it has yet to make a dime. Practices like this will keep it steeped in red.
My problem was taken care of, sort of, with a few more phone calls and a little restraint. But I am still surprised and annoyed that it came to this. I promised the account supervisor that I will wait until I am sure there was no charge placed on my card before I make a final decision about severing my long-time relationship with XM.
Trapped in limbo is the merger between the two satellite radio providers. In the balance could be the very existence of this medium. After this morning I’m not at all sure there is a future in, “the future of radio.”
And it all started with an otherwise very friendly phone call.
I have been a subscriber to XM Satellite radio almost from day one. It is a great service with one glaring exception. As far as the programming they provide is concerned I have nothing but praise. But when I called to change my plan – actually disconnect a radio that I am no longer using – all that goodness went right down an especially nasty drain.
Three years ago I extended my plan on three radios to three years. The price was right and at the time it was well worth it. That is no longer the case. I can’t afford to spend that kind of money – over $900.00 – on a convenience that we don’t use as often as we once did. In the course of talking to “Listener Care,” the woman mentioned that the card on file had expired. Fair enough, I was going to redo a modified subscription and its well to get that out of the way.
By the time I had talked to another woman and gotten an arrangement that was more fitting, the card I had given was charged an auto-renewal for $916.00; another three years! Wait a second, let me repeat that. They charged me nearly a thousand dollars without one word indicating that they were renewing the very subscription I was calling to change – and now cancel.
Would you be furious? Would you feel as though this big company reached into your account and robbed you? I did, and someone had to pull me off the ceiling.
We have a credo in radio: make one listener happy and he will tell ten people; make one listener unhappy and he will tell one-hundred, who will tell another one-thousand! This is a great way to ruin a business, especially one that is struggling to get off the ground. Satellite Radio may have a 21st Century name, but it has yet to make a dime. Practices like this will keep it steeped in red.
My problem was taken care of, sort of, with a few more phone calls and a little restraint. But I am still surprised and annoyed that it came to this. I promised the account supervisor that I will wait until I am sure there was no charge placed on my card before I make a final decision about severing my long-time relationship with XM.
Trapped in limbo is the merger between the two satellite radio providers. In the balance could be the very existence of this medium. After this morning I’m not at all sure there is a future in, “the future of radio.”
Butts and Cutts and All That News
"At the end of the day she will exercise to exhaustion, pour it all out to trusted friends and peers and she will cry her eyes out. It's that kind of story. But the next day she will look some attorney or cop or other professional distracter square in the eye and her five-two visage will become a six-four intimidator. I've seen it happen."
Here's a little secret. I'm going to reveal it under duress, and many of my colleagues will cringe when I let the rather scummy cat out of the bag. Here it goes: news is a filthy business and the filthier the better. Gone are the days of the gentleman journalists - if there ever were such times.
And those tight, often symbiotic relationships with the reporter and those who make the story have morphed into extreme chess matches with white hot pieces and professional life or death as the prize or concession.
The men and women who do this for a living - and I am not one of them - love it when the blood flows and the mud gets in the politicos eyes. Most of them, anyway: the good ones.
We have some real news doozies forming around us. You will certainly keep up on them with the help of Ed Esposito and his stellar news department. That's both here at AkronNewsNow.com and on the air at 1590 WAKR, if you will allow the plug. Ed's blog, Letters To the Editor needs no help from me, it is one of the most popular political and news blogs in the state already!
What I like to offer here is not the news side of what they do, but the human and cultural angle. I am not a big news junkie. Yes, I program a station with News in its fist name, along with Sports and Oldies, but I leave the news to Ed. To do anything else would be foolish.
We have a mostly young staff of journalists bringing you the biggest story. The Bobby Cutts trail, for instance, has a lead reporter named Tina Kaufmann. She is bright, determined and not the biggest woman among the slew of local and national reporters. She will do a great job mainly because she knows she is wading in with crocs, gators and snakes. They have already tried to bait her, flatter her, trap her and insult her. Not going to work. Tina is armed not only with great guidance from seasoned professionals, but with a spirit that is unflappable.
At the end of the day she will exercise to exhaustion, pour it all out to trusted friends and peers and she will cry her eyes out. It's that kind of story. But the next day she will look some attorney or cop or other professional distracter square in the eye and her five-two visage will become a six-four intimidator. I've seen it happen.
You will get the real story about a double homicide in Stark County. While the Gretas and Nancys and whoever else in the national media is sucking up the spotlight, it is Tina and the other young reporters sitting through the horror everyday who will truly understand, and tell you first.
Here's a little secret. I'm going to reveal it under duress, and many of my colleagues will cringe when I let the rather scummy cat out of the bag. Here it goes: news is a filthy business and the filthier the better. Gone are the days of the gentleman journalists - if there ever were such times.
And those tight, often symbiotic relationships with the reporter and those who make the story have morphed into extreme chess matches with white hot pieces and professional life or death as the prize or concession.
The men and women who do this for a living - and I am not one of them - love it when the blood flows and the mud gets in the politicos eyes. Most of them, anyway: the good ones.
We have some real news doozies forming around us. You will certainly keep up on them with the help of Ed Esposito and his stellar news department. That's both here at AkronNewsNow.com and on the air at 1590 WAKR, if you will allow the plug. Ed's blog, Letters To the Editor needs no help from me, it is one of the most popular political and news blogs in the state already!
What I like to offer here is not the news side of what they do, but the human and cultural angle. I am not a big news junkie. Yes, I program a station with News in its fist name, along with Sports and Oldies, but I leave the news to Ed. To do anything else would be foolish.
We have a mostly young staff of journalists bringing you the biggest story. The Bobby Cutts trail, for instance, has a lead reporter named Tina Kaufmann. She is bright, determined and not the biggest woman among the slew of local and national reporters. She will do a great job mainly because she knows she is wading in with crocs, gators and snakes. They have already tried to bait her, flatter her, trap her and insult her. Not going to work. Tina is armed not only with great guidance from seasoned professionals, but with a spirit that is unflappable.
At the end of the day she will exercise to exhaustion, pour it all out to trusted friends and peers and she will cry her eyes out. It's that kind of story. But the next day she will look some attorney or cop or other professional distracter square in the eye and her five-two visage will become a six-four intimidator. I've seen it happen.
You will get the real story about a double homicide in Stark County. While the Gretas and Nancys and whoever else in the national media is sucking up the spotlight, it is Tina and the other young reporters sitting through the horror everyday who will truly understand, and tell you first.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)