Can You Live Without…

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Bear Grylls, BlackFriday, Blogs, Can You Live Without..., Cell Phones, Discovery Channel, Lost in a Drunken Banquet of Static, Man vs. Wild, no internet, Tim L O'Brien

What can you live without?  More specifically, what are you willing to live without?

Today’s world changes in a nano second.  We are caught up in a race that is never-ending, and yet, we continue to run the race.  Technology changes so fast.  We are able to keep abreast of the latest scandal or late breaking news with nothing more than a cell phone in our hand.  With social media we know where are friends are eating and what they are thinking.

Everywhere you go, people are walking the streets like obsessed robots, eyes transfixed to the latest device being held tightly in our hand.  We try to walk and read at the same time.  We text and drive at the same time.  Our minds so wrapped into the hand-held device we miss conversations directed towards us.  We bump into each other.  We are all so intrigued with the little world we hold in our hands that we are missing the real world around us.

Numerous times I have been at a restaurant and noticed a parent completely ignoring their child.  Why?  The cell phone.  Reading messages.  Sending texts.  Meanwhile, little Johnny tosses his mac n cheese dinner on the floor, trying to get the parent’s attention.  Soon the plate is empty, and everywhere, parents are handing out clean plate awards.  Johnny remains hungry and fussy.  The parent sends a text to someone more important than their child, that Johnny must be going through a growth spurt.

I witnessed a parent at a little league baseball game this past summer bring his laptop to the game.  He sat in the bleachers the entire game with the device open, never once looking up to watch his son with a bat in his hand. True story.  I came oh so close to slamming the computer shut on his hands and slapping the dad up side the head.  I didn’t do it, but I sure wanted to.

What can you really live without?

Can you live without food or water?  Can you live without the mall or shopping?  How long can you go without your wine or other favorite adult beverage?  Can you live without your Kindle or iPad?

Would your world come to an end if you had no cell phone reception for six days?  Would the apocalypse be declared if you were unable to get access to the internet for six days?  Could you survive without a cell phone and internet for six days?

Could Bear Grylls, a seasoned adventurer, and star of the Discovery Channel’s show Man vs. Wild, survive under such extreme conditions?

What in the world would we do with so much free time?

Over the duration of the Thanksgiving holidays, that is what 16 members of our family were forced to find out.  We had gathered in South Texas, in a remote area along the Rio Grande, with Mexico visible on the horizon.  We knew in advance that cell phone reception would be very, very limited.  We were given no warning that the internet would be out.  The children were not mentally prepared for such sacrifice.  But guess what?

For six days, we all survived just fine.  No cell phones.  No internet.

No one went into detox.  Medications were never dispersed for tremors.  None of the children were found balled up in the fetal position.  The night sweats never came.

It probably went unnoticed, but we spent more time together in the giant living room.  We held long conversations with each other.  Many family members had books open and read for hours.  We were active outside all day.  We stayed at the large dining table long after the meals were completed.  Stories were told.  Laughter echoed throughout the house.

For six days, mothers and fathers, sons and daughters, aunts and uncles, cousins, and grandparents spent the holidays old school style – acting like a real family!

And no one complained.  Not once did I hear or see a teenager throwing a fit out of frustration.  There were no freak outs.  We simply just shared our time together.

No one got pepper-sprayed fighting over a Black Friday discount item.  No one was assaulted or shot in a Walmart parking lot.  The social media IV that is permanently hooked into our vein was unplugged.  And for six glorious days we didn’t care, or need to know

About the worse thing to come of it all were the 187 emails in my inbox.  I am behind in my writing, and have 51 blogs to read while I was away.

Such small sacrifices to make.

What about you?  Can you make it six days without a cell phone or internet?  Would we need to call an intervention?  Would you need to pack a straight jacket just in case the withdrawals got too far out of hand?

Reasons to Read – Your Childhood Favorite

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Bears on Hemlock Mountain, Blog, Children, childrens literature, Courage of Sarah Noble, Jon Scieszka, Julie Hedlund, Lost in a Drunken Banquet of Static, Tim L O'Brien

Time to play the Book that Made a Difference game.

Last Monday’s blog discussed the importance of parents reading to their children.  The blog was a reminder to us all – whether we are a mom, dad, aunt, uncle, brother, sister or grandparent – that it is our job collectively, and not the school systems, to get children to read.  I mentioned best-selling author James Paterson’s superb site: www.readkiddoread.com

Since last Monday’s blog, children’s book author, Julie Hedlund, brought another fantastic web site to my attention.  I mentioned the difficulties of trying to get my son interested in books, and she recommended Jon Scieszka’s site:  www.guysread.com.  The web site is a wonderful resource to use and is full of book titles, broken into many categories, such as Classics that Actually Hold Up; Mysterious Occurrences; Dragons and of course, Sports.

Through Julie’s fabulous blog site – Write Up My Life – I also discovered two other terrific sites to use:  www.bookdads.com and www.the childrensbookreview.com

While browsing through these websites, I thought back to the books I enjoyed reading as a child.  There is no way to remember everything our parents read to us, but one book in particular, truly stands out in my memory – The Bears on Hemlock Mountain by Alice Dalgliesch.  Two of her works of historical fiction, The Courage of Sarah Noble (1954) and The Bears on Hemlock Mountain (1952) won Newberry honors.  I have since bought the book several more times and have read it to my children.  Despite its 1952 publishing date, the story still holds up well, and all my children have thoroughly enjoyed the tale.

Is there  a book from your childhood that you can pinpoint as pivotal to opening the gates of reading joy?  Have you passed that book on to your children, as well?  Was there a particular book that your children read that opened the flood gates and brought your child into the world of words?

Reasons To Read: Advice From a Best Selling Author

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Al Roker, Alex Cross, blogging, Blogs, Children's Books, James Patterson, Lost in a Drunken Banquet of Static, Reasons to Read, Tim L O'Brien, Tim O'Brien, Today Show, www.readkiddoread.com

“It’s our job to find books for our kids to read.  It’s not the school’s.” – Best Selling Author James Patterson

Welcome to the third installment of Reasons to Read.  In the first two weeks, we discussed Getting in Touch With Your Inner Casting Director and Reasons to Read – Time Travel, Bad Tv & Sex Tapes.

I love to read.  My parents taught me at an early age the joys of reading.  My two oldest children love to read, and it is just as important for me to show my two youngest children the joys of opening a terrific book and letting the writer take you on a journey, and into a world, that before now, you were unable to enter.

Unfortunately, many, many parents don’t spend that quality time with their children.

This past Wednesday I happened to walk past the television while the Today Show was on.  Al Roker was interviewing best-selling author James Patterson when the topic changed from promoting his latest Alex Cross novel to a cause Patterson has championed – getting children to read.

“We know we are supposed to teach the child how to ride a bike, or how to throw a baseball, but we don’t think, we have to go out and find books for them.”

Wow!  Right there on national television a mega-selling author stated it best.

Why do we as parents think it is the public schools system to teach our children?  Why is the most significant responsibility of parenting – the teaching of our children – delegated to someone else?  I don’t know about you, but I don’t want my children’s future determined by how well they are taught by someone else.  Nothing against teachers – my Mom was one.

We spend time teaching our kids to ride bikes, roller-skate, throw baseball’s and footballs, yet it escapes our thinking that perhaps we should spend just as much time at the library or bookstore picking out notable books for them to read.  We spend time picking out video games for our children.  For the cost of one video came we could buy four or five books instead.

My youngest daughter loves to read.  My son, well, not so much.  I have struggled to come up books that he might find appealing.  Books, other than Diary of a Wimpy Kid, are hard to find, and hold his interest.

Watching the interview with Patterson led me to a startling revelation.  Seems that while not writing the next best-seller, Patterson has started a website specifically designed to solve this problem.

I quickly went to the web site:  http://www.readkiddoread.com

On the home page, it states, “Something told you the only way to get kids to read was to give them great books, cool books, books they would absolutely, positively love.  I believe we have gathered the crème de la crème of such reading right here.  These are very special books that kids will gobble up and ask for more.  If your kids get a few of these books under their belts they’ll be well on their way to becoming readers for life.  I promise you.”

Reading lists are broken up into four categories:

0-8  Great Illustrated Books          6 & Up  Great Transitional Books          8 & Up  Great Pageturners          10 & Up  Great Advanced Reads

Within each category are four subcategories broken down into genres and more defined age groups with each category containing at least twenty-five books titles.

I spent quite a bit of time at the web site, scanning over book tiles and descriptions.  You could get lost in time.  My prayers were answered.  I have an entire arsenal of books to expose to my children.  I even see numerous options that might, just might, turn my son into a reader.

If you are a parent, aunt, uncle, grandparent, or mentor to a child, check out the web site.  Let others in your circle of friends know about it.

After all, it is our job, and not the schools system, to teach our children well.

The Last Dance…High Anxiety

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blogging, High School Dance, Last Dance, Led Zeppelin, Lost in a Drunken Banquet of Static, Slow Dance, Stairway to Heaven, Tim L O'Brien, Tim O'Brien

We huddled together like a group of over-anxious teenage boys, which is exactly what we were, and waited for that one song.

We knew it would be the last song of the night.  All night long we each kept close track of her – the one girl who made our hearts race.

If we each played our cards right, and paid careful attention to the opening strums of the song we could swoop in and get the dance.

We hadn’t danced to one song all night.  A silent protest against the ballroom dance lessons.  We waited till the very end for our big moment.  With our heads down, staring a hole in the dance floor, we stayed near.  We each had a crush on a different girl. We wished each other luck.

The dance rocked into the late night, our time was soon, we were all strategically spread out, getting as close to our intended dance mate without seeming to obvious to our intent.

The acoustic guitar introduction began.  Like a hawk circling the skies above, we all soared in, and soon were on the dance floor, holding our dance partners tight to the slow rhythms of the song.

“There’s a lady who’s sure all that glitters is gold

And she’s buying a stairway to heaven.

When she gets there she knows, if the stores are all closed

With a word she can get what she came for.

Ooh, Ooh, and she’s buying the stairway to heaven.”

The song lasted eight minutes, long for a song, but not long enough for us.  We were all in our own “heaven” as we slowly stepped, moving in a tight little circle, arms wrapped around each other.

A quick glance around the dance floor to make sure we had all reached our mark.

We held tight never wanting to let go.  Until…

Until that part in the song when our “slow dance” song turns into a high tempo hard rock song.  We had to think quickly.  One of three things was going to happen:

1.  If you were one of the lucky ones you remained slow dancing despite the increased tempo of the song.  This was the preferred choice, and it meant your dancer partner wanted to remain close to you, as well.

2.  Like everyone else, you broke apart and began to “fast dance” to the song.  This was not preferred, fast dancing scared the crap out of us, and no one wanted to look like a fool, but at least you were still dancing with your dream girl, which in itself might mean something.

3.  The unthinkable happens.  The confusion concerning the proper way to dance to the tempo change sends your partner walking off the dance floor with you following behind like a scolded little puppy.  Half the dance floor would always clear out after the tempo up-tick, meaning half of us hawks had transformed into sparrows, or some other sort of chi-chi bird.

It’s hard to believe that 40 years ago this month Led Zeppelin released its fourth album.  The album had no title on the cover and was always referred to as IV.

The song Stairway to Heaven went on to become the most played song on FM radio in the ’70’s.

Total sales for the album have reached 32 million, 23 million in the US alone, making it the third best-selling album (behind Michael Jackson’s Thriller and the Eagles Greatest Hits) of all time.

And for 32 million teenagers Stairway to Heaven was the most anticipated song of the dance.

Can you remember your high school dances?  Was there that one song that sent you searching the crowd for a dance partner?  Did the song Stairway to Heaven give you fits on the dance floor, or was there another song that made you look clueless on the dance floor ?  Or were you the Staying Alive era John Travolta of your class?

Red Wagons & BB Guns – Favorite Birthday Presents

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Best Childhood Birthday Gifts, blogging, Blogs, Cassette Tape Recorder, Led Zeppelin, Lost in a Drunken Banquet of Static, Tim L O'Brien, Whole Lotta Love

Was it a little red wagon or maybe a brand new bicycle?  Perhaps it was an Easy Bake Oven or a b-b gun.

Can you remember that one birthday present, the end all of all end all presents?  It was the one gift that was the crowning moment of the entire year.

Christmas no longer mattered.  You had it.  You clutched it in your arms vowing never to let go.  The gift you had begged and pleaded for, the gift that caught your eye every time you walked past it, and spotted it in the display window.  The gift that made your insides hurt you wanted it so bad.

The first bicycle is always a memorable moment.  For my brothers and sister, bicycle’s only arrived under a Christmas tree.  Too lofty a gift for a parent to waste on a birthday.

Maybe it was a black light poster or a groovy lava lamp.  Maybe it was a stereo, or a new television for your room.  If you were hanging with the Trump’s maybe it was a shiny new car.

I doubt it was a cassette tape recorder.

Stop laughing.

That magical tape recorder could do things, and took me places like no other gift.  I think I was eleven-years-old.  I remember that big silver and black recorder was the neatest thing ever created.

I lifted the plastic lid and inserted the cassette tape and raced over to the old Zenith radio I had in my room.  I placed the recorder in front of the speaker and turned the radio on.  I spun the radio dial and found a rock-n-roll station – KLOL in Houston – and waited for the next song.  I had the play and record buttons pushed along with the pause button.  All I had to do was wait for the next song.

My finger tapped the pause button in anticipation.  The d-jay came out of the commercial break, said a few words, and wham.  The big moment!  I released the pause button and watched the two little wheels begin to spin as the tape circled and recorded the song.  I had never heard this song before.  My joy quickly turned to confusion.  What is this music?  It was scary.  It was violent.  It was…really good.

I played that song over and over. Rewind. Play. Rewind. Play.

The more I listened to it a new world began to unfold.  It was dark and seductive.  The pounding beats and guitar were spooky, but my feet seemed to like it as they tapped the ground trying to keep rhythm.  Somewhere in the song the lead singer’s voice would echo before he actually sang the next line.  Creepy stuff.  The magical powers of this music placed me in a trance.  I was mesmerized.  I watched the little wheels continue to spin out this mysterious music.

It was the greatest birthday gift ever.  I ended up filling both sides of that cassette tape with songs from the radio.  Me and that tape recorder had many enjoyable times together.  I can still hear Curt Gowdy’s play-by-play call when Johnny Bench homered in the 1973 All-Star game.  I stayed up late on a Saturday night in September to record the University of Oklahoma vs. USC game in California.  It was a night game.  The difference in time zones presented problems.  I hit record and fell asleep.  Of course, I only got one side of the tape recorded.

On a side note, my prized possession rode in the car with me one Sunday morning on our way to church.  Sometime between the kneeling, the standing, and the sitting, some jackass broke into my father’s white Chevy Impala company car and stole my little cassette recorder.  At church of all places!

Can you remember that one memorable gift from your childhood that stands out against all others?  The one gift that brought so much joy you will always treasure that particular birthday?  I would love to hear what it was…

Oh, the song that I recorded that day was “Whole Lotta Love” by Led Zeppelin, and every time I hear it played on the radio it takes me back to that birthday.

Solving the World’s Problems – One Campfire at a Time

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blogging, Blogs, Lost in a Drunken Banquet of Static, Rio Grande, South Texas, Tim L O'Brien, Tim O'Brien, turning 50

Funny how life can be summarized around a campfire.

We had all gathered for a long and relaxing weekend.  Each of us had traveled far to reach our point of destination; from different directions we all arrived taking a different path, brought together to celebrate a birthday.  A member of the group had reached the half-century mark.

We stood around the campfire ring, huddled close to its warmth as the cold, nighttime air surrounded us.  We were an odd collection of individuals.  Two of us had been married several times.  One was married and currently divorced.  Two members of the group had yet to marry.  Sadly, only one of us had found success in marriage, and they just celebrated their 25th anniversary.

Standing around the campfire that night was a longhaired defense attorney, a Lieutenant in the Constables office and an 18-year veteran of serving and protecting the citizens of Houston, Texas.  There was an environment demolition specialist, a Project Manager for large companies, a sports photographer, a nursing home administrator and an observer of life, me, the writer.  For our chosen professions, we had absolutely nothing in common.  Yet, our time together has exceeded three decades.  Two of us went back to grade school.

The moon was full on the first night of our gathering, as we stood mesmerized by the orange dancing flames.  The tales told on that first of three nights were just as full.  The cold beers and whiskey flowed effortlessly that night.  The later the hour – the taller the tales.

The comedian in the group – the defense attorney – sent the woman scrambling into the house following a rather descriptive and crude joke that had the rest of us shedding tears as we laughed.  It wasn’t long before our comedian began to boast of the vasectomy of all vasectomy stories.

For three nights and four days this continued.

We gave updates on our lives, about our kids and the what-was-happening-now in our work careers.  We shared joyous tales of personal triumphs along with a few about the tragedies that life can throw you.

We shared more than a few jokes, told plenty of tall tales about the shenanigans of our youth.  It was hard to believe we ever got away with those things, and somehow, we were never caught.  We sure weren’t smart enough back then to get away with it.  We were lucky, I guess.

We had gathered on a ranch in South Texas.  There was a lot of history on the place.  When the ranch owner was a young boy, he came to the United States by ocean liner following World War II.  He fell in love with South Texas and dreamed of becoming a cowboy and owning a ranch.  Through his hard work and high-risk profession, he achieved his goal, and it was there we had come together.

On the second evening of the trip, we all stood on a wooden deck built on a bluff overlooking the Rio Grande River and Mexico.  It was known as the “Happy Hour” deck.  With cold beers and drinks in our hands, we watched a beautiful sunset.  We all had much to be thankful for, but silently we gave thanks for standing on this side of the river.

With more than a few grey hairs and wrinkles across our faces, we shared our time together.

At dinner, we all sat at the large table, treated to food fit for kings.  The conversations continued and soon we were back outside by the fire ring another mesquite smoke-filled night awaiting us.

And so on into the night we went.

The hour drew late as the remainder of our time together drew short.  More logs were added to the fire as the tales continued.  The ice chests grew empty, the trash cans grew full.  There, we all stood, listening to each other swap stories about life.  We were surrounded by 17,000 acres.  A ranch that came together by a man’s childhood dream.  For as Father Time reminds us that life is worth living, dreams can come true, and you are never too old to stop dreaming.

And on that last night we all stumbled away from the campfire trying to find our way for a place to lay down.

Life can be so easily explained sometimes.

Reasons to Read – Time Travel, Bad TV & Sex Tapes

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America's Next Top Model, American Idol, Bad TV, Bad TV & Sex Tapes, Berlin, blogging, Blogs, Bonanza, Cold War, Come Monday, Cormac McCarthy, CSI, D.D. Warren, Dancing with the Stars, Gorky Park, Harry Potter, Jack Kerouac, James Rollins, Jersey Shore, John Le Carre, Kim Kardashian, Larry McMurtry, Lisa Gardner, Lonesome Dove, Lost in a Drunken Banquet of Static, Love You More, Martin Cruz Smith, Moscow, On the Road, Reasons to Read, Reasons to Read - Time Travel, SE HInton, Shakespeare, Soviet Union, Survivor, Suzanne Collins, Texas Rangers, The Biggest Loser, The Devil Colony, The Great Gatsby, The Hunger Games, The Outsiders, The Road, The Things They Carried, TheSpy Who Came in From the Cold, Tim L O'Brien, Tim O'Brien, Twilight series, writer, X Factor

Have I ever told you my tale of riding with two former Texas Rangers in the late 19th century?  I rode along with them on a cattle drive from Texas to Montana.

Have I told you about the time I was a British Agent in Cold War Berlin?  Or traveled to Moscow before the collapse of the Soviet Union and found three corpses frozen in the snow, faces and fingers missing?  If I failed to mention these exploits, I probably failed to mention that I served in Vietnam and walked with a father and son in the post-apocalyptic future.

I don’t have any sort of super powers over the universe.  I have no extraordinary abilities, but yet, I am able to travel in time and go places that others can only dream of.  The cost of my adventures?  Next to nothing!  I have traveled the world over ten times for what most of us pay for cable television each month.

Before you say I am full of more sh*t than a Christmas turkey, or place the call to have me committed, remember we all have the ability to visit far away places of intrigue, adventure and romance.

Sadly, most of us never will.

In last weeks post “Reasons to Read – Getting in Touch With Your Inner Casting Director I mentioned that one-third of high school graduates never read another book, and 42% of college graduates will never read another book after college. The numbers are shocking!

Of course, I have never been on a cattle drive with two Texas Rangers.  But, I have read Larry McMurtry’s Lonesome Dove.  I have never been to Berlin or Moscow, but I have read The Spy Who Came in From the Cold by John Le Carre and Martin Cruz Smith’s Gorky Park.  I never served in the military, but traveled with Tim O’Brien as I read his outstanding book The Things They Carried.  I can’t predict the next hour, much less travel into the future, but Cormac McCarthy’s The Road took me there.                             

So why don’t more people read?

Was it the classics we were forced to read in high school, that at the time, seemed like the driest, dullest stories in the world?  If our teachers hadn’t forced Shakespeare or The Great Gatsby upon us, but instead choose Jack Kerouac’s On the Road or even SE Hinton’s The Outsiders, would more people read today?  Maybe with the popularity of the Harry Potter novels and the Twilight series the reading numbers will improve.  It is hard to deny the book marketing directed towards today’s youth.  I don’t recall my generation or generations thereafter being targeted with anything as popular and mass appealing as we are seeing today.

People don’t read because they would rather be entertained by the television.  They would rather sit back on the couch and watch Dancing with the Stars.  This is a show where I haven’t even heard of the so-called stars.  Watch dancing?  Are you serious?  I was forced to take ballroom dancing in 8th grade with “Mr. Al.”  Hated it then and don’t watch it now.

Do I really need to know or care about which rather large person can lose the most weight on The Biggest Loser?  Am I supposed to be entertained by a network show that concludes with obese people standing on a weight scale?

I don’t get the X Factor, Survivor, American Idol or America’s Next Top Model.  Don’t even get me started with Jersey Shore.  Someone please, give me one, just one, valid reason to watch such numbingly bad television.  I don’t even understand the popularity of CSI, the show that is as fake as the backdrops were on Bonanza.

What about the greatest sham pulled on the American public this year?  How many millions and millions of misguided fools watched and continue to follow the Kim Kardashian marriage saga?  Why am I supposed to be enthralled about the life of a wanna-be celebrity?  A woman made famous by a sex tape, gets married and 72 days later wants a divorce.  What a joke, and the punch line is on the ever-caring public as she laughs all the way to the bank.

Turn it off.  Tune it out.

Instead, take a trip to the not to distant future with Suzanne Collins in The Hunger Games or help D.D. Warren solve the case in Lisa Gardner’s Love You More.  

I’m not taking calls right now I’m on another journey, this time with James Rollins in The Devil Colony.

Come Monday:  Here at Lost in a Drunken Banquet of Static we celebrate the survival of another weekend!  And if it’s Monday, it’s time to start reading a new book.  On this day, we will go to the bookstore, the digital library and even dust off a few books on the bookshelf.  We will not only explore reasons to read, but also discuss other topics including book v. the movie.  Together we will also revisit some classics and look at how they are holding up with time, discuss our favorites, etc.

Remember if you are enjoying yourself here at my blog site you can easily subscribe to this blog and have each post delivered to your email address.  It’s kind of like a free Christmas present delivered to your box three days a week.  It’s almost as enjoyable as finding just one more beer hidden in the back of the refrigerator when you thought you were all out.  Just click the subscribe icon at the top right of this page and the gifts will keep on coming!

Danger, Dope and Drunks – The First Concert

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blogging, Blogs, danger, dope, drunks, First Concert, Houston, Joel Osteen, KISS, KISS Army, Lost in a Drunken Banquet of Static, music, mystery writer, Styx, Summit ARena, Tim L O'Brien, Tim O'Brien, writer

For four impressionable teenage innocent boys, it was a night met with as much anticipation as Christmas Eve.  We were going to our first concert.

Tickets were hard to come by, but not near as difficult as negotiations with our parents.  We pledged to do anything – including improve our grades!  After prolonged begging, we were allowed to attend the biggest and most popular concert on tour that year.  Stipulations were placed on our attending, but we didn’t care.

Our bedroom walls were decorated with posters of the band.  We had bought every album and eight-track (remember those?) and knew the words to every song.  We were even official members of the fan club, or Army as the band called us.  The band had sold out two shows in our town and we were headed to the second night’s concert!

On September 2, 1977, we arrived at Summit Arena in Houston, Texas a full hour before the doors were to open.  We milled around outside taking in the atmosphere with our two “grown up” chaperones.  Yes, they were part of the stipulations handed down to us.  Once the doors finally opened, and the crowd started to rush in our excitement level began to rise.  This was it.  The big night.

Just as the four of us were set to enter the “grown up” chaperones notified us that they were not going in and would wait outside the arena for us once the concert was over.  A small level of anxiety set in.  We had never been to a concert before and by the looks of the characters in the crowd we were just a little out of our element here.

Setting fear of the unknown aside, we rushed into the arena and found our seats.  Our tickets were in the upper most level and in the far back.  We were only a few rows away from having the worst seats in the concert hall, but we could care less.

That is until we spotted the guy struggling to walk up the steps.  One hand tightly held the handrail, the other circled around him like a helicopter blade as he tried to maintain some level of balance.  His long black hair waved back and forth, dancing across his face like car wash brushes across the hood of your car.  His eyes were half-opened and unfocused as his head flopped around like it was on a puppet string.

The four of us spotted him at the same time.  We elbowed each other in the side, but were too afraid to say a word.  The guy continued to stumble his way up the aisle closer and closer to our seats.  On several occasions he nearly let go of the rail and somehow avoided falling into the people seated along the aisle.  He continued closer and closer to us.  Time to panic.  We were young, but not dumb.  We knew what was about to happen.

As fast as we could see it coming, we saw it coming.  A steady stream of Pepto-Bismal colored vomit erupted and landed all over the poor kid sitting on the aisle step below us.  The kids head was turned away talking to his friend and never saw what we saw coming.  We didn’t know if we should run, scream or laugh.  There was no way we could offer the pink colored kid any help.  So we just sat there in stunned silence.

As would become a tradition for every concert, my friend and I decided now would be an opportune time to buy our concert shirts.  The concourse was packed with people from a world two 15-year-olds had never seen before.  The kids our own age had hair longer than our sisters.  There were Afros the size of over-inflated basketballs.  Men wore makeup, and the women, well lets just say they were confused as to which bathroom to use.  Everyone was dressed in costume, and we were still over a month away from Halloween.

We made our purchases, and as we turned to head back to our seats we were greeted by a couple of rather large Hispanic men.  They demanded we hand over our concert shirts.  We stood in shock.  Frozen in complete fear.  Suddenly one of them reached out and grabbed my buddy’s concert shirt.  Natural instinct set in.  Chris immediately, and with all the force and muscle he could gather, pulled back.  It was then that we saw the switch blade knife fall out the man’s hand and onto the ground.

We had no doubt what to do next.  We ran!

Once back in our seats the voices of our parents concerns began to make a little sense.  Maybe, just maybe they were right. Concerts are dangerous and no place for four teenagers.  But the parental voices in my head were soon turned off as the arena lights went dark.  The moment had come.  A loud roar of anticipation came from the crowd.  People held up lighters illuminating the crowd in an orange glow.

The PA announcer came over the sound system:  “YOU WANTED THE BEST AND YOU GOT THE BEST.  THE HOTTEST BAND IN THE LAND….KISS!!”  

Our eyes were glued to the stage and the pyrotechnic show.  The band came out playing “I Stole Your Love.”  Our little juvenile heads bobbed to the beat of the music.  Smiles were transfixed across our face.  We raised our fisted arms in triumph.

Then something funny started to happen.  It was if someone had let a family of skunks loose in the arena.  The “skunky” smell came from all-around us!  Suddenly, little, white, hand-rolled cigarette-looking objects were passed our way.  What the hell?  We passed them right back.  Offering our best and polite “no thank you.”  We were warned (yes by our parents) about marijuana at concerts.  Well, this skunk smell must be it.  For the first time in our lives, our senses took in the smell of pot.  I have to admit, I still like the smell.  Just never been a fan of partaking.

The band played all the fan favorites and as usual put on an entertaining show.  They performed all the antics we had read about – fire breathing, blood spewing, explosions, smoking guitars.  We left the concert excited as if we had been to the mountaintop.  We were on our own “natural” high, or maybe a second-hand smoke high.  We met our two chaperones outside and told them what a great concert they missed.  They music was so loud, they said, they sat outside and could hear the entire show.  I could tell they were relieved it was over, and we had made it out safe and sound.

I look back at that concert with fond and amusing memories.  Did we actually go see four grown men dressed in makeup and high-heeled boots?  It’s strange that my former concert arena, which hosted the best and loudest concerts, and played host to thousands of drunks and dope heads is now home to preacher Joel Osteen.  The Houston televangelist turned the arena into a church.  He better perform an exorcism if he expects to rid all the demons from that place!

I don’t remember if we ever lived up to our promise to make better grades.  I have a feeling we didn’t.  Our little world was never the same after that night.  But I’ll never forget my first concert when the circus came to town.

Going to your first concert is like a first kiss (no pun intended) or a first date.  Do you remember your first concert?  Did you walk through mysterious doors into a world never seen before?  Can you remember the opening band?  (FYI – the opening band that night was Styx.)  What long-lasting memories came from that night?

Reasons to Read – Getting In Touch With Your Inner Casting Director

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Angels & Demons, Anthony Hopkins, blogging, Blogs, Casting Director, Charles Portis, Clarice Starling, Da Vinci Code, Daniel Craig, Dennis Lehane, Dr. Hannibal Lecter, Gus, Hannibal, Hannibal Lecter, Jack Reacher, Jeff Bridges, John Wayne, Larry McMurtry, Lee Child, Leonardo DiCaprio, Lisabeth Salander, Lonesome Dove, Lost in a Drunken Banquet of Static, Matt Damon, Matthew McConoughey, Michael Connolly, Mikael Blomkvist, One Shot, Reasons to Read, Robert Duvall, Robert Langdon, Robert Lundlum, Rooney Mara, Rooster Cogburn, Shelter Island, Silence of the Lambs, Sir Anthony Hopkins, Static in the Airwaves, Stieg Larson, Teddy Daniels, The Bourne Identity, The Girl with the Dragoon Tattoo, The Lincoln Lawyer, Thomas Harris, Tim L O'Brien, Tom Cruise, Tom Hanks, Tommy Lee Jones, True Grit, Woodrow

Recently a small but certainly loud uproar circulated throughout the internet over the news that Tom Cruise had been cast to star as Jack Reacher, the former US Army cop, in mega-popular author Lee Childs novel One Shot.

The best-selling thriller series has sold more than 50 million copies and apparently the loyal readers did not approve of Cruise, a full ten inches shorter than Reacher, who is described in the novels as being six-foot, five-inches tall and weighs 250 pounds.  They charged that Cruise was too short and good-looking to play the menacing character.

One fan went as far to criticize the author, “He is clearly out of touch with his reading public.  I am seriously thinking that my Child-reading days are over.”

Extreme?  Certainly.  Sitting in the casting chair as we read our favorite novels can make us that way.

Great authors can make a character feel like part of our family.  We fall in love with them.  We feel their pain and rejoice in their triumphs.

It brings up an important and rarely discussed point.  One of the joys of reading is also to play the part of casting director.  Readers are loyal to their favorite authors.  We read each new release in a series and follow along with intense enthusiasm.

When I read a novel, at some point along the journey, I will stop and picture certain actors playing the roles in the book.  I become the casting director, and in my own little world, my imagination gets to pick and choose who I believe is perfect for the part.

I have always cheered when a book I’ve read, or an author I have long followed, starts to get national recognition.

When Hollywood announced plans to adapt Michael Connolly’s novel The Lincoln Lawyer to the big screen I was excited.  My inner casting director thought Matthew McConoughey was the perfect choice to play Mickey Haller.  I was excited to see the movie and pleased with the results.  The movie stayed true to the novel and McConoughey finally delivered, after several suspect roles.  My inner casting director was pleased.

Have you ever tried to go back and read a favorite novel after its been made into a movie?  Try reading Larry McMurtry’s Lonesome Dove without picturing Robert Duvall and Tommy Lee Jones as Gus and Woodrow.  Try and read Robert Ludlum’s The Bourne Identity without seeing Matt Damon floating in your imagination.  It can’t be done!

Pick a Thomas Harris novel back up and read the exploits of the most chilling, evil antagonist ever written – Dr. Hannibal Lecter.

     Hannibal Lecter:  Why do you think he removes their skins.  Agent Starling?  Enthrall me with your acumen.

     Clarice Starling:  It excites him.  Most serial killers keep some sort of trophies from their victims.

     Hannibal Lecter: I didn’t.

     Clarice Starling: No.  No, you ate yours.

Your nightmares will be forever invaded with the image of Sir Anthony Hopkins.

When you read Dennis Lehane’s Shelter Island did you see Leonardo DiCaprio starring in the role of US Marshall Teddy Daniels?  Did you read Charles Portis’ novel True Grit?  Who do you see in the role of Rooster Cogburn?  John Wayne or Jeff Bridges?  What about the adaptation of best-selling novel Da Vinci Code?  The novel sold over 65 million copies and ranks tenth on the all-time bestseller list.  But did 65 million casting directors agree with the choice of Tom Hanks to play Robert Langdon?  Or did you read Angels & Deamons and picture a different Langdon?

It will be interesting to watch how the public will react to Stieg Larson’s mega-seller The Girl with the Dragoon Tattoo.  The soon to be released movie adaptation stars Daniel Craig as Mikael Blomkvist and Rooney Mara as Lisabeth Salander.  Will you inner casting director be pleased?

Is there a book/movie that Hollywood’s casting director nailed it spot on?  Has there been a movie version of a favorite novel that was so miscast that your inner casting director vision was ruined?

Leave a comment and let me know what you think…

Note:  I read somewhere that one-third of high school graduates never read another book.  It has been reported 42% of college graduates never read another book after college.  We need more readers.  We need more casting directors!

The Static in the Airwaves…

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airwaves, blogging, Blogs, books, Come Monday, follow this blog, hump day, Lost in a Drunken Banquet of Static, music, pocket full of change, reading, static, Tim L O'Brien, Tuesday's Gone, weekend

Now that you have stumbled onto my blog – Lost in a Drunken Banquet of Static – I hope you stick around, read a little, and hopefully, enjoy your stay.  If you really enjoy your time here you can click on the “Follow this Blog” icon and receive an email alert notifying you of a new blog.

I often get asked where I came up with the title for this blog.  I don’t really have a cool sounding answer for that. I guess I have always felt like that late-night static you get on your radio as your search the dials for something to entertain.

Here is what you might expect each week from this blog:

Come Monday:  A celebration that we all survived the weekend!  And if it’s Monday, it’s time to start reading a new book.  On this day we will go to the bookstore, the digital library and even dust off a few books on the bookshelf.  Here we will not only explore reasons to read, but also discuss other topics including book v. the movie.  Together we will also revisit some classics and look at how they are holding up with time, discuss our favorites, etc.

Tuesday’s Gone:  Tuesday’s blog is dedicated to things overlooked and conversations unheard.  The static in the airwaves.  In other words, anything goes on Tuesday.  Why Tuesday?  If  you think about it, Tuesday stands alone as a day not really known for anything.  The day is so irrelevant it doesn’t even have a nickname.  Wednesday is “hump” day, which is a pretty cool nickname for a day in the middle of the week.  When looking for things to do on a Wednesday, we only have to think of the nickname, and presto, your busy, or getting busy, or you get the idea.  So anything goes on Tuesday’s.

Stay in Tune Thursday:   On Thursday the countdown begins for the weekend.  We have worked hard all week to overcome life’s obstacles, and its time to get ready for another great weekend.  The beer is on ice and I have a pocket full of change.  Subject matter on Thursday’s will be light, fun and usually music related.  Oh my my. Oh hell yes. Honey, put on that party dress. Buy me a drink, sing me a song.

There could also be other random days of blogging depending on the amount of static in the airwaves on that particular day.  You might also find a short video blog to watch and laugh with from time to time.

I thank you for stopping by and taking the time to read all this.  I hope in some small way, that you are able to take something away from each blog that makes your day a bit brighter and gives you a little extra pep in your step.  We are all much more attractive with a smile on our face!

– Tim