Moving Christmas Story... moving

My story "You Could Call It a Christmas Story" has moved and is no longer available here. I am pretty sure no one read it--since I haven't a clue how to promote this blog yet--so it has moved (with some help) to my Smashwords E-Publishing pages. You can find it by clicking the title You Could Call It a Christmas Story Use Coupon Code YT82B (through 01/26/2010) and it's free!

Health Care Reform Reformed (or edited)

The Health Reform Plan is supposed to put into place, immediately, a high-risk pool for those, like me, with pre-existing conditions that no honest Capitalists would ever, ever insure. I don't blame them. In my Greed-is-Good-for-You-and-Me days, I wouldn't have insured any part of me either. Only a Socialist would even suggest something so potentially unprofitable.

My sincere hope is that Walmart will continue to expand its in-produce-aisle clinics. There you can at least be seen by a pleasant 80-year old greeter and get Aloe leaves for cuts and burns; cauterization by Cuisinart over-heating toaster ovens for amputations; and leeches for everything else. You do have to buy your own saw, but they are handy in the hardware section.

I can't blame Congress. Congressman and Senators don't pay for health care, it just shows up at the door as a newspaper used to. They probably figure that anyone who contributes to a campaign gets the same treatment.

When Walmart adds a $100 Thallium stress test, with a free balloon (as in angioplasty), I'll cheerfully put my gurney in that checkout line.

The Afghan Plan Part II

I received an email the other day that relieved much of my anxiety over the newly announced Afghanistan Surge. I was supposed to send it along to ten people, etc., but, hey, I was looking for an edge here.

The Big O is going to send just enough troops to Afghanistan to immobilize the Taliban and al Qaeda through unbearable laughter. While they are writhing on the ground, Halliburton will quickly build a huge heroin refinery in Kandahar so that Afghans will get a longer dollar out of their national natural resource, their poppy fields.

The US will guarantee to buy the entire production of the refinery for ten years--unless The Netherlands outbids us in Euros--and use people without health care insurance, such as me, as street-level dealers to distribute these Afghan-US co-branded products. We now gainfully employed can afford to overpay for health care, assuring that Republicans and Lobbyists will rally to the plan.

As part of the plan, medical marijuana will now be free to those with head colds, guaranteeing Democratic support.

By the way, whatever you do, do not buy stock in Methadone clinics.

The Afghan Plan

I thought the Cadet-oriented speech given by the Big O (the man is President; hence the respect) was pretty good, given the topic. I think a nice little surge for 18 month is a good idea. If nothing else, Afghans need to know that we are back to our usual attention span and not John-McCain's 100 years.

This is not Vietnam. Vietnam had a stable government-in-waiting; it just happened to be where Jane Fonda stayed on vacation.

Jane Who? you might ask, if you never donned a leotard or ankle warmers.

It is sad that so many members of the Peace, Love and Simple Flower Arrangements Generation would forget its beloved aid and comfort-woman, Hanoi Jane. No wonder Bush was elected over her strong right (or maybe left, if that's possible) arm, John Kerry.

Maybe some of you just missed that mentally altered generation. I know a few who were just at the tail end of the "Greek is Good" generation (through no fault of their own) and skipped straight to the actual Hustle and Disco. During a single Bee Gee's song one night, the Soviets snuck hundreds of tanks into Afghanistan, many of which we paid Holy Freedom Fighters to disable if not fix.

Anyway, with our plan, we have 18 long months to fix everything else wrong with Afghanistan, the tanks long gone to China as scrap.

We can do it. I watched, from across the street, my local McDonald's go up in 18 days. And it rained twice.

Name Part II

Let's get this one out of the way, too: Names are a problem for me.

Starting with the one given me at the outset, John Nicholas Datesh, Jr., perfectly fine, if always mispronounced, even by me. All through school, all 19 years, it was John. I'm sure most people know me as John. To family and most, but not all, close friends, it has always been Nick (ignoring my first few years, please).

Beyond school, I have generally used Nick. But no insurance company, bank, DMV or state bar cares what you are actually called.

The outfit that published my novels long ago decided that I needed I needed a pseudonym, my actual nym being way too stiff and my own choice, Nick Datesh, sounded pulpy. They felt that John Nicholas Datesh struck the best balance for a serious fiction writer. This despite the fact that I pitched myself (mostly to myself) as a mystery & suspense writer, with some SciFi and horror tendencies.

Friends of the family congratulated my father when my first book, "The Nightmare Machine" came out. I suppose they had not read it, yet. He, having done so, just said, "Oh, no, I didn't." (This may have been the horror part.)

Even today, when someone politely asks me my name, I have to hesitate, just as I do when asked about what I do for a living.

When asked from now on, though, I can just say, "Read my damned Blog."

What's In A Name. Really.

First, in case you wondered, the title of this Blog:

I have always been a glass-half-full kind of guy. Others (she knows who she is) tend toward the glass-half-empty approach.

Not long ago, I was reminded that even empty space is chock full of subatomic particles winking in and out of existence (generally in pairs, for you romantics).

Assuming that is true, then even an empty glass is full.

Besides, you try to come up with Blog name that some nine-year-old hasn't poached already.