Tag Archive | Agents

“The Bait Man” cometh!

My human's latest novel!

My human’s latest novel!

 

It’s available today. Hooray! You can get it on-line or from stores like Barnes and Noble, Amazon, Matlacha Menagerie, etc. in either printed or e-book versions. If you like suspense/mystery you’ll love “The Bait Man.”

The Geezer will be at the Ft. Myers Beach, Florida, Public Library tomorrow and will have a limited number of books with him for signing. He’ll be speaking on writing historical fiction and will start at 1:30.

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Code Blue! Sound the Sirens! Valentine’s Day ALERT!

Valentine's Day - Males forget it at their peril!

Valentine’s Day – Males forget it at their peril!

 

It’s danger days for males! Have you forgotten that gift? Those words? That evening out?

You know what day it is? It’s February 12th. That fact and a couple bucks will get you a lousy cup of restaurant coffee. So why is it so important? It’s two days before the 14th AND the 14th is  … Valentine’s Day! Have all of you males made your plans? Speaking for all ladies, human and canine, there are three days you boys need not forget: Valentine’s Day … Her birthday … Your anniversary (Particularly if a ring is involved).

If you were forgetful, you have this chance to have flowers delivered, buy chocolates or Lingerie, order pajamas or teddy bears, and make dinner reservations.

If you simply intend to ignore the event, let me enlighten you to possible consequences.

  • An empty underwear drawer.
  • The answer to any question you ask in the next thirty days will be “I forgot.”
  • Breakfast will consist of a bologna sandwich.
  • Your in-laws will be invited over for every weekend for three months.
  • Lunch will consist of a bologna sandwich.
  • The TV remote will disappear (I suggest looking for it in the frige freezer, her car’s glove compartment, or taped to the back of the toilet tank.)
  • Calls from all of your credit card companies stating you’re maxed out.
  • The loan of your hunting, fishing, camping, golfing, and tennis equipment to your lovely’s brother … located somewhere in Siberia.
  • Supper will consist of a piece of lettuce and a bologna sandwich.
  • A trip to your bedroom will be like a visit to Greenland complete with a glacier for a bed.

May Zeus, Mars, and Odin forgive you – she won’t.

 

PS- If she’s a reader a good book might work. Try the Geezer’s new book The Bait Man, a suspense/thriller. It’s being released this next week.

 

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A dog’s tale of Christmas spirit

As is my custom, I like to present my readers with a canine crafted Christmas story this time of year. This is a new one.

The Geezer and I wish you all a very "Merry Christmas"

The Geezer and I wish you all a very “Merry Christmas”

I watched the dog from my apartment window. The first time I noticed him was when I was eating lunch one Saturday. It was a blustery December day, cold, dreary … the type day best served by fireplaces, sofas with blankets, hot chocolate, and football games on the TV … not being outdoors. My apartment building adjoins the park where I saw him; that park’s lively April through October, but is as still as a mortuary in the cold Midwestern winter.

The dog was by himself, his actions rather strange for he chose to sit by an isolated park bench away from the access sidewalks that criss-cross the facility. Immobile as a statue, he faced into the wind and waited. I might have forgotten about him if it hadn’t been for the fact he was a Golden Retriever, one of my favorite canine breeds. It was for this reason I noticed the same animal, sitting precisely in the same location, after I returned from church the next day.

I’m a project engineer and elected to take a break in job assignments. Christmas was coming and with it another anniversary. My wife died, an untimely victim of a drunk driver the preceding Christmas day. Our ten years together was hardly enough and there were no children to help fill a Grande Canyon sized void in my life. Pity from relatives and friends, though well-meaning, added to my anguish. Their efforts to force me to indulge in an active social life revolted me. I was home, alone, on Monday and when lunch time arrived, I looked to see if the dog had returned to the park. He sat there, waiting for someone or something, patiently.

It was a bright, sunny day, with clear skies and cool temperatures. Between eating a sandwich, sipping coffee, and reading a novel, I kept tabs on the beast. The dog sat there, gazing intensely at the park entrance. The clock in my kitchen chimed two, I glanced at the dog in time to see him walking, alone, to the park’s front gate. I watched him cross the street and disappear into a maze of apartment buildings and homes. I decided I’d see if he’d return the next day. He did.

At eleven the next morning I saw him stroll through the park entrance, trot straight to the same bench, face the gate, sit on his haunches, and wait. Promptly at two, he left. Fascinated, I waited for the animal to change his behavior. He did not vary from his routine. Rain, wind, bitter cold … nothing made a difference. The only change I could see was his body thinning and a slightly perceivable slow-down in his gait.

A few days before Christmas two inches of snow covered the ground. I fancied I could see the animal shake. The poor dog looked as empty-hearted and forlorn as I felt. Before I gave it much thought, a pack of hamburger was in the microwave defrosting.

When I entered the park and stepped the hundred yards that separated us, the dog never looked at me. His eyes were focused on some unseen being in the world outside the park entrance. Goldens are known for their friendly disposition, but this one never acknowledged my existence, even when I sat on the bench next to him. His body was emaciated, his eyes slightly sunk into his skull.

“Hi boy.” The dog ignored me. “Who are you waiting for?” The retrievers eyes remained fixed on the gate. “You hungry?” I removed the hamburger from a cloth cooler and held it on my lap. The dogs nose twitched and its tongue circled its mouth. It did not move or take its eyes away from their vigil. I unwrapped the waxed paper from around the meat and placed it in front of the dog. It whimpered, but remained immobile. “Go ahead, boy.” He whimpered louder. “Go on,” I coaxed. The dog’s hunger won for a few seconds. He dropped his head over the meat and in a couple of gulps the hamburger disappeared. The dog returned to its watch. No amount of petting or verbal persuasion could distract it from its purpose.

“That dog belong to you?” A policeman stared down at the two of us. His expression was friendly, but sad.

“No, officer. I’ve been watching it from my window.” I pointed to my apartment. “I felt sorry for him.”

“It’s a stray. Some people reported it hanging around their home a couple days ago. I been keeping an eye on it. It doesn’t have a home. Sleeps where it can find a warm spot. One thing it does do, it always comes here during lunch time. I was hoping it was yours. Now I’ll have to call animal control and get it put down.”

“You don’t have to do that, do you?”

“Afraid so … unless someone adopts it.”

I heard myself say, “I will.”

‘Royal’ came home with me from the pound on Christmas Eve. It was obvious the dog had been well trained and cared for before his abandonment. He reacted to his new home with an attitude of grateful acceptance. As I had expected, there was a defined reservation in his demeanor. I new I was number two and probably always would be. We woke on Christmas morning … me grateful that something had entered my life to return some focus to it … he grateful for his improved chance of survival. I told him, “Well Royal, we got each other for Christmas.”

We spent the morning introducing ourselves to each other until eleven. It was then Royal barked for the first time. He changed from being calm and sedate to agitated. He went to the apartment door and scratched it and the floor beneath it. “Have to go out?” I asked. He barked and kept looking back and forth at the door and me. I had the leash on him and as we left the apartment there was no doubt where he was headed.

He led me to the park bench, and we sat there and waited, for what I had no idea. It was sunless, very cold, the wind was vicious, snow flew by horizontally and I settled deeper into my coat, wrapping my scarf over my face. Royal whimpered then began barking. When I uncovered my face he was staring at me … I thought.

From the bench next to me a soft feminine voice said, “I’m so happy that Clancy found a new home.” The voice came from a pretty young lady. Her long silver coat covered her in a manner that was surreal. Her brown hair spilled from a knitted cap, she had brown eyes, and smiling lips.

“You know who the dog belongs to?” I asked. She rose, nodded, said “yes,” and knelt in front of Royal wrapping her arms around the animal. It whimpered softly. The girl said, “Clancy belonged to Sally James. Sally had leukemia. The last weeks she lived she came to this park and sat here with Clancy.” The girl stroked the dog and scratched behind its ears. She put her head next to the dog’s ear and whispered to it. “I lost track of him after Sally died.” She patted the Golden on its head a few times and stood up. She smiled at the dog then at me.

I hoped for a negative answer. “If you’d like to take the dog, since he knows you …”

“Oh, no. I can’t have him with me. No dogs allowed kind of place. He is yours now. Besides, you two were made for each other.”

Royal, or Clancy, rested his head on my knee. His eyes were fixed on mine. It was as though a bond had passed from the dog, through the girl, to me. Looking deep into his eyes, I asked, “Ready to go home, boy?” He whimpered a positive response.

“Jessica approves.” It was the girl’s voice, but my wife’s name. My head jerked up to look at her … to ask her. No one was there. The dog and I were alone. His head and eyes were on me and are hearts were one. The weather hadn’t changed, but my life had suddenly turned warm. I spoke to the wind that howled around me, “Thank you Sally. Thank you Jess.” I will never be sure, but I believe I heard two women’s voices faintly, sweetly answer in the wind, “Merry Christmas.”

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Fall has fell! … The Geezer’s on the road again.

I hear Willie singing, "On the road again"

I hear Willie singing, “On the road again”

 

Fall is in the air! It’s only 92 degrees today and the humidity is 78%. Well, that’s better than its been. It means the holidays are coming and, best of all, the election will be over! It’s also traveling season for us as the Geezer starts his appearance schedule after his hip replacement.

Dogfucius has some bits of wisdom for the upcoming season.

Advice to does. A horny deer and a horny dear both must be approached with great caution unless one wishes to be horned. Approach a horny deer from downwind for best success when hunting. Approach a horny dear from upwind for nostril relief. (Hunting these is not necessary.)

Do not discuss going to Grandma’s house for Thanksgiving with any of your turkey friends.

Buy stock in insane asylums. The election will be over soon and overcrowding will be a problem.

I suggest humans with white chimneys post the following sign on Christmas Eve: “Santa, this is not our outhouse.”

Men, do not argue with your spouse about who will be the back half of your Halloween costume if you’re going dressed as a horse. You are what you are.

Speaking of horse rumps – My human, the lovable old Geezer, will be signing books at the On Point Book Fair tomorrow. If you’re in the Tampa, Florida area, he’ll be at the Westshore Plaza 10AM until (ugh) 9PM. Look for the sign with DL Havlin printed on it and the Geezer wearing his black Stetson.

 

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All points of view told here … now for a cat’s eye view.

"Confucius" Oreo!

“Confucius” Oreo!

All points of view should be heard! Unlike humans, we animals listen to all ideas.

With that in mind, this post features the feline point-of-view as expressed by my house mate, Oreo. My interview was a question and answer session. Some of his wisdom is expressed below.

Sandy Q. – What is your defense for those people who say cats are lazy?

Oreo A. – That’s completely unfounded. Our species just really enjoys doing nothing.

Sandy Q. – Do you believe that personality and attitude are impossible to divide?

Oreo A. – Ridiculous. My personality is who I am. My Attitude depends on many things: What food you put in my bowl, how many tummy rubs I get a day, if you have a broom in your hand, if you pet the dog more than me … I could go on.

Sandy Q. – Do you take responsibility for opinions you express?

Oreo A. – Absolutely. But … not for your lack of intelligence to understand them. Gee, maybe I should run for office.

Sandy Q. – How do you settle bitter arguments you have with others?

Oreo A. – Its a 4 step process. 1) I suggest a cooling off period. 2) I insist we stay silent and hold our breath for 20 minutes. 3) I cheat. 4) I call for a hearse.

Sandy Q. – Do you believe that we can read each others minds?

Oreo A. – No. If that were true I’d be slapped and punched much more often.

Sandy Q. – Are you in agreement that we carnivorous folks should change our eating habits because we kill living things?

Oreo A. – Hell no. Aren’t plants alive? Whats that leave? Rocks? Give me a break.

Sandy Q. – Do you doubt that humans are the mentally superior species on earth?

Oreo A. – Yes. Proof in one word answers. Bush. Clinton. Obama. Ryan. Pelosi. Romney. Want more?

Sandy Q. – Do you have a suggestion to create more world peace?

Oreo A. – Just as we animals are subject to … forced neutering. Less humans, more peace.

 

So speaketh the feline sage.

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Dogfucius says …….

 

I long for the days I was too young to understand what's on TV.

Ever since my earliest days my wisdom has been unchallenged. I won’t eat dill pickles!

 

I have pondered some important questions and have decided to enlighten you humans with helpful illuminations —-

Dogfucius says the human mouth is a poor design. There is no filter on it to catch the bad things that come from it: vomit and lies.

Dogfucius says one must remember the adage “Beware of Greeks bearing gifts.” You humans must modernize it to “Beware of politicians offering free stuff.”

Dogfucius says remember that those humans who profess to have good intentions have a poor record in producing good results.

Dogfucius says Pavlov proved canines are smarter than humans. He showed that dogs learn to avoid bad things and respond to good things rather quickly. Human’s aren’t smart enough to understand “He who chooses to ignore history is cursed to live it again.” Want proof? Read about the 1930’s (happenings and individuals) and compare them to today’s events.

 

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Good news … bad news …

 

The Geezer (aka - DL Havlin) at the Charlotte Cultural Center with Dan his number one fan. He has every book the Geezer has published.

The Geezer (aka – DL Havlin) at the Charlotte Cultural Center with Dan his number one fan. Dan has every book the Geezer has written that’s been published.

The Geezer had bad and good news this week. The bad news first. Attending local signings, shows, and events are one of the things the Geezer really enjoys. The annual shows held in the Port Charlotte Cultural Center are among his favorites. The bad news? He’ll not be able to attend in person this year. The doctor says his going so soon after his surgery is pushing a little too fast. (Even though the old boy is doing great and his recovery is well ahead of schedule.) Mrs. G will be attending in his place so he’ll be maintaining his commitment to the event. He’s big on keeping his word.

Now for good news! The old boy is a finalist in the flash fiction category of this years Florida Writers Association’s Royal Palm Literary Awards. His entry is his short story, There Are No Lights In Naples. Let’s all wish the old boy good luck.

 

Notification badge for the Geezer's work being a semi-finalist.

Notification badge for the Geezer’s work being a semi-finalist.

 

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