In honor of my Irish family, I present a cut from a 33 rpm album—an old thing played on a machine producing music—that must've been worn down to 45 rpm single—a smaller old thing—from all the times it was played in my house. Happy St. Patrick's Day and here are Carmel Quinn and Arthur Godfrey with a jaunty tune from way back in the day:
h/t: #CarmelQuinn
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
Monday, March 16, 2015
King Bach Captures Denzel
If you think Denzel Washington is an 'ok' 'all right' actor, then you're at the right spot as comic King Bach satirizes Washington in Flight. Just when you think the video has peaked, they up the ante. Very funny.
h/t: BatcherlorsPadTv
h/t: BatcherlorsPadTv
Saturday, March 14, 2015
Smokin' Hot Chicago Marathon 2007
In honor of tomorrow's LA Marathon and the record temperatures slated to vex runners, I repost once more my account of a hot, humid marathon where the water stations ran dry and the course was closed. Let's hope such a doom does not befall the City of Angels. All the best to participants, especially the San Gabriel Valley Marathon Team in Training. You guys are champions of a most noble variety.
First reposted October 8, 2013 as Chicago Marathon 2007 where I said that six years earlier, I had run my third marathon in Chicago. Or, at least, I had attempted such a feat.
Here's my initial 2007 race report originally posted under the heading Sweat Home Chicago.
All three entries are pretty much the same. Note: "TNT" stands for Team in Training.
Marathon number three continued my tradition of only running marathons with temperature extremes. At dawn it was an overcast, humid 75 degrees and climbing. My niece dropped me off near the lake-front start line around 7:00 AM. I checked my gear, loosened up with T'ai Chi, then stood in a tightly-packed brick of humanity waiting for the 8:00 gun. As the overcast dissolved into popcorn-shaped clouds, the sun rose above Lake Michigan. It felt like a furnace door opening.
Because of crowd size, it took me 20 minutes to cross the mat.
Interesting Stat:
The Chicago Marathon sold out all 45,000 spots back in April.
But only 35,867 passed the start line Sunday morning. That means 9,133 people figured out it was too stinking hot to run.
Lots of TNT runners from Illinois, Iowa, Kansas, New York City and even Louisiana.
The field was so packed it was tough to interval. Those who intervaled clashed with those who viewed the far right of the course as a passing lane. My goal was a 4 hour and 40 minute marathon. I aimed to interval four minutes running/ and one walking up to the half-marathon mark, then see how I felt.
Leaving Grant Park, the course turned onto LaSalle Street just past Mile 2 and headed north. No water at the first stop — they'd run out. There was a mob around the folding tables, shaking gallon water jugs to get the last drops. The surrounding street was littered with flattened Gatorade and Hinkley water cups from the preceding runners. (Wet, flat plastic cups are like ice. You had to watch your footing.) People were highly pissed — especially those without water belts. (I'd brought mine.) One runner had a bottle of Gatorade. He took a sip, passed it back to me. I took a sip and passed it on to another runner. This no-water business boded ill.
Running for several miles on LaSalle, you'd get an occasional breeze through the tall buildings. I'd take off my visor and savor the cool air. Then out into Lincoln Park where the water stations remained a problem. Runners were surging across the street to the first one they saw. Sometimes there was only Gatorade. Other times, volunteers couldn't keep up with demand and runners served themsevles. Whenever possible, I grabbed two cups, drinking one and dumping the other over my head. (In today's Chicago Tribune, the race director blamed runners for the water shortages, citing those who took two cups.)
Around mile eight, I saw an old white-haired runner drift off course and ask a spectator if he could sit in his lawn chair. (The guy helped him down.) By now, sirens whooped all over the city as ambulances rushed the first heat casualties to the hospital.
The heat was getting to me. For the moment, I slowed but kept the same interval. But as we turned west onto Adams, the shade disappeared. No tall buildings, no leafy tree-lined streets with brick apartments. I passed a medical tent and it was full: runners on cots and others holding ice bags to their heads. Past the half-way point, I started tossing out goals like a passenger on a sinking boat dumping freight. Dropping to a 3:1 run/walk, I slowed pace even more. After frying my brain in Honolulu two years ago, I listened to my body and if it said walk more, I did.
We doubled-back east on Jackson and finally found a little shade. Turning south on Halsted to mile 17, I was mostly walking. I'd pick a point and run to it, or run half a mile, or choose a runner going about my speed and tag along. I took another salt tablet, but skipped goo as it made me retch.
Somewhere around mile 18, the cops bull-horned that the race had been cancelled. No finishing times would be official. Please walk. There was a great deal of confusion. By now, the city had opened up fire hydrants and fire trucks stood at certain intersections hosing down the crowd. (Not to mention ordinary Chicago citizens with garden hoses doing the same.) Finally, in the Mexican neighborhood of Pilsen, around mile 19 it sunk into the vast majority of runners that the 2007 Chicago Marathon was toast — just like them. Some runners dropped out at the nearest medical tent where they'd be bussed back to the start line. Some ran on. A nasty rumor surfaced that we wouldn't get medals. This put me into a black mood.
Come what may, I was determined to finish. Because my legs hurt, I ran 1:1 off and on to around mile 22, then walked to mile 26. Along with many others, I ran the final .02 because there were cameras present. 24,933 runners crossed the finish line.
And they did give out medals.
I finished in 5 hours, 48 minutes and 23 seconds. Check the Comments of my previous post where Jeff Carroll has listed my unofficial splits.
One man died and over 300 were hospitalized for heat injuries.
The people lining the route were great. Many offered water or ice cubes, staying on to cheer in the heat long after the race was called.
As for the "other" race — the front end of the marathon where people actually had a chance to win — Kenyan Patrick Ivuti beat Moroccan Jaouad Gharib by .05 of a second. (2:11:11) The top woman's finisher, Ethiopian Berhane Adere edged Roumanian Adriana Pertea in the homstretch. Pertea thought she had the race knocked, and eased off, waving to the crowd as she neared the finish. Adere poured on the coal to catch and pass Pertea for the win. (2:33:49.)
Given my injuries since April, I couldn't think of a better race to cancel. But if I'd been a TNTer who'd fund-raised and trained for this moment, or a runner eager to pr, I'd be supremely miffed at Sunday's outcome. For over a week, I'd been tracking the temperature. I knew it would be hot and humid. Hence, the race organizers did also. I find it hard to believe they couldn't increase the amount of water stations, change the start time to earlier, or better prepare for the heat onslaught they knew was coming. The Honolulu Marathon faces these conditions every year. No one could pick up a phone?
In any case: mission accomplished. After 30 years, I finally finished the Chicago Marathon.
Thanks to Ryan, Raul, Jeff and K for the emails. I'm walking around fine after sleeping eleven hours last night.
As for now, I'm not looking at any marathons before next fall in Pasadena. But don't tell anyone I'm entering.
They'll kick me out to avoid extreme weather.
(All photos courtesy of the Chicago Tribune.)
First reposted October 8, 2013 as Chicago Marathon 2007 where I said that six years earlier, I had run my third marathon in Chicago. Or, at least, I had attempted such a feat.
Here's my initial 2007 race report originally posted under the heading Sweat Home Chicago.
All three entries are pretty much the same. Note: "TNT" stands for Team in Training.
Marathon number three continued my tradition of only running marathons with temperature extremes. At dawn it was an overcast, humid 75 degrees and climbing. My niece dropped me off near the lake-front start line around 7:00 AM. I checked my gear, loosened up with T'ai Chi, then stood in a tightly-packed brick of humanity waiting for the 8:00 gun. As the overcast dissolved into popcorn-shaped clouds, the sun rose above Lake Michigan. It felt like a furnace door opening.
Because of crowd size, it took me 20 minutes to cross the mat.
Interesting Stat:
The Chicago Marathon sold out all 45,000 spots back in April.
But only 35,867 passed the start line Sunday morning. That means 9,133 people figured out it was too stinking hot to run.
Lots of TNT runners from Illinois, Iowa, Kansas, New York City and even Louisiana.
The field was so packed it was tough to interval. Those who intervaled clashed with those who viewed the far right of the course as a passing lane. My goal was a 4 hour and 40 minute marathon. I aimed to interval four minutes running/ and one walking up to the half-marathon mark, then see how I felt.
Leaving Grant Park, the course turned onto LaSalle Street just past Mile 2 and headed north. No water at the first stop — they'd run out. There was a mob around the folding tables, shaking gallon water jugs to get the last drops. The surrounding street was littered with flattened Gatorade and Hinkley water cups from the preceding runners. (Wet, flat plastic cups are like ice. You had to watch your footing.) People were highly pissed — especially those without water belts. (I'd brought mine.) One runner had a bottle of Gatorade. He took a sip, passed it back to me. I took a sip and passed it on to another runner. This no-water business boded ill.
Running for several miles on LaSalle, you'd get an occasional breeze through the tall buildings. I'd take off my visor and savor the cool air. Then out into Lincoln Park where the water stations remained a problem. Runners were surging across the street to the first one they saw. Sometimes there was only Gatorade. Other times, volunteers couldn't keep up with demand and runners served themsevles. Whenever possible, I grabbed two cups, drinking one and dumping the other over my head. (In today's Chicago Tribune, the race director blamed runners for the water shortages, citing those who took two cups.)
Around mile eight, I saw an old white-haired runner drift off course and ask a spectator if he could sit in his lawn chair. (The guy helped him down.) By now, sirens whooped all over the city as ambulances rushed the first heat casualties to the hospital.
The heat was getting to me. For the moment, I slowed but kept the same interval. But as we turned west onto Adams, the shade disappeared. No tall buildings, no leafy tree-lined streets with brick apartments. I passed a medical tent and it was full: runners on cots and others holding ice bags to their heads. Past the half-way point, I started tossing out goals like a passenger on a sinking boat dumping freight. Dropping to a 3:1 run/walk, I slowed pace even more. After frying my brain in Honolulu two years ago, I listened to my body and if it said walk more, I did.
We doubled-back east on Jackson and finally found a little shade. Turning south on Halsted to mile 17, I was mostly walking. I'd pick a point and run to it, or run half a mile, or choose a runner going about my speed and tag along. I took another salt tablet, but skipped goo as it made me retch.
Somewhere around mile 18, the cops bull-horned that the race had been cancelled. No finishing times would be official. Please walk. There was a great deal of confusion. By now, the city had opened up fire hydrants and fire trucks stood at certain intersections hosing down the crowd. (Not to mention ordinary Chicago citizens with garden hoses doing the same.) Finally, in the Mexican neighborhood of Pilsen, around mile 19 it sunk into the vast majority of runners that the 2007 Chicago Marathon was toast — just like them. Some runners dropped out at the nearest medical tent where they'd be bussed back to the start line. Some ran on. A nasty rumor surfaced that we wouldn't get medals. This put me into a black mood.
Come what may, I was determined to finish. Because my legs hurt, I ran 1:1 off and on to around mile 22, then walked to mile 26. Along with many others, I ran the final .02 because there were cameras present. 24,933 runners crossed the finish line.
And they did give out medals.
I finished in 5 hours, 48 minutes and 23 seconds. Check the Comments of my previous post where Jeff Carroll has listed my unofficial splits.
One man died and over 300 were hospitalized for heat injuries.
The people lining the route were great. Many offered water or ice cubes, staying on to cheer in the heat long after the race was called.
As for the "other" race — the front end of the marathon where people actually had a chance to win — Kenyan Patrick Ivuti beat Moroccan Jaouad Gharib by .05 of a second. (2:11:11) The top woman's finisher, Ethiopian Berhane Adere edged Roumanian Adriana Pertea in the homstretch. Pertea thought she had the race knocked, and eased off, waving to the crowd as she neared the finish. Adere poured on the coal to catch and pass Pertea for the win. (2:33:49.)
Given my injuries since April, I couldn't think of a better race to cancel. But if I'd been a TNTer who'd fund-raised and trained for this moment, or a runner eager to pr, I'd be supremely miffed at Sunday's outcome. For over a week, I'd been tracking the temperature. I knew it would be hot and humid. Hence, the race organizers did also. I find it hard to believe they couldn't increase the amount of water stations, change the start time to earlier, or better prepare for the heat onslaught they knew was coming. The Honolulu Marathon faces these conditions every year. No one could pick up a phone?
In any case: mission accomplished. After 30 years, I finally finished the Chicago Marathon.
Thanks to Ryan, Raul, Jeff and K for the emails. I'm walking around fine after sleeping eleven hours last night.
As for now, I'm not looking at any marathons before next fall in Pasadena. But don't tell anyone I'm entering.
They'll kick me out to avoid extreme weather.
(All photos courtesy of the Chicago Tribune.)
Thursday, March 12, 2015
Killer Conan Podcast
Frank Frazetta.org |
The Barbarian recalled in an epic seven hours of podcasting, courtesy of The Projection Booth. Explore all aspects of the world's favorite Cimmerian, from the Robert E. Howard short stories to John Milius, to sword and sorcery in general. Sup upon music and a wealth of video clips. But the steaming raw meat of the thing will be host Mike White's commentary, aided by fellow podcasters El Goro and John Hadley.
As aficionados may observe, I have chosen a Frank Frazetta art piece that once graced the paperback cover of Howard's re released Conan canon many years ago. (That's quite a sentence.) I remarked on Frank here.
So flex your thews and enjoy this multimedia feast. But know you must supply your own lamenting women.
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
Do You Hate 50 Shades?
My '50 Shades' satire punches the lights out of E.L. James' clunky, cliched prose as well as mocking her homage to rich stalkers. Set in the old west, Fifty Shades of Zane Grey lampoons the blockbuster trilogy that led to a blockbuster movie telling the tale of a lip-biting young woman who battles a bad case of murmuring, a railroad tycoon who wants to beat her, and an Inner Canadian Goose pecking at the inside of her head at the most inappropriate times.
STRIKE BACK AT E.L. JAMES
KINDLE COUNTDOWN
Your moment has arrived to read the one parody that dares mock the 50 Shades colossus for only $3.99. And starting next week you can enjoy the laughs and save 76% off the eBook price. No Kindle, no problem. Amazon WANTS you to buy my book and will provide you with an easy-to-install app that allows reading on your computer, laptop, Apple Watch, whatevs. Lo, the time of savings draws near:
Starting Fri. March 20 8:00 AM Pacific Time to
Sun. March 21 1:00 PM pay only .99. That's less than a dollar for a parody powerhouse guaranteed to put a smile on your unbitten lips.
Sun. March 22 1:00 PM to
Wed. March 24 6:00 PM save 51% and pay only $1.99. That's two bucks for an eBook taking the lumber to head-cocking, and bag out tea.
Wed. March 24 6:00 PM to
Fri. March 27 midnight you still save 26%, paying a mere $2.99. That's three bucks for a tale proving that love is not easy, especially when you end up wearing a mule harness.
Mark your calendar. Even if you don't take advantage of this amazing discount, mark your calendar anyway. It's fun and beefs up your fine motor skills.
Join the growing tide of Anti 50 Shaders. Read Fifty Shades of Zane Grey and bask in the satisfaction that you were right and all those who loved the book were higher than old hippies in Colorado.
Have fun!
Image: I Hate 50 Shades of Grey
Saturday, March 07, 2015
50ZG eBook Promo
Despite no interest from Hollywood, Fifty Shades of Zane Grey will be advertised tonight on the silver screen. Only one silver screen and it's in Barrington, Illinois. But from the smallest of cells life multiplied and flourished upon the Earth. Many thanks to Tim O'Connor, owner of The Catlow Movie Theater and an old high school chum. Tim crafted a nifty 15 second promo that he'll show before tonight's feature. It's almost like a film debut, except there's no movie. But haggling over details gets us nowhere. Here's what the promo will look like.
Friday, March 06, 2015
T.C. Boyle Aces Award
Author T. Coraghessian Boyle stands to snag a Los Angeles Times Book Award. According to USC:
"Boyle, writer in residence and distinguished professor emeritus of English at the USC Dornslife College of Letters, Arts, and Sciences, will receive the Robert Kirsch Award for Lifetime Achievement. His books include The Woman, Drop City, The Tortilla Curtain, East is East, and The Road to Wellville.
Read more here.
Boyle was my creative writing mentor at USC. Four times a semester one of your short stories would be selected for review and discussion by the class.
How T.C. Boyle Ran a Class
As an author, you had to sit there and take-it, Boyle's reasoning being that you wouldn't be hanging around a magazine or book editor's office explaining what you meant. The piece stood on it's own merits. If it didn't have any, it fell. With a wit drier than a Santa Ana wind, he would moderate the discussions, limit the undergrad snark, and try and draw out from the class what he discerned as the story's strong and weak points. Post-discussion, you would receive Boyle's written critique on the back of your pages as well as a letter grade. Spelling and punctuation counted. This was pre-texting, so university students could still spell—most of them.
Boyle's Picks and World's End
When we weren't writing or reading other classmate stories, we read the fiction Boyle assigned. Not his own, though many of us went out and bought Budding Prospects or Greasy Lake. He introduced us to authors such as Raymond Carver and Flannery O'Connor. Carver's short story "Cathedral" still resonates as does O'Connor's "A Good Man is Hard to Find."At the time, Boyle was doing research for World's End and would tell us after class of visiting amputee wards. At the time, it seemed pretty gruesome. But when you read the book, you can see how his research lends itself to the story.
The Killing Fields and T.C. Boyle
I was to see plenty of amputees fifteen years later when I traveled to Cambodia for a project with Warner Bros., the State Department, and USAID. (An adventure I will write about eventually.) My companions and I visited a killing field outside of Phnom Penh. Around 15,000 people were killed there by the communist Khmer Rouge in the 1970s: shot, strangled, buried alive, or with their heads sawed off on the serrated branches of sugar palms. There are bones embedded in trees, bones baked into the ground. Around this former orchard, there are mass graves still to be exhumed. And in case you haven't absorbed enough genocide, there is a stupa—Buddhist shrine—containing five thousand skulls. That was a fairly depressing tour, more darkly numbing than visiting the U.S. Postal Museum. Naturally, the killing fields had their own gift shop. You could buy old Khmer Rouge currency, a selection of Red Stars and a small number of books.
One of those books was World's End—in German.
I thought, 'you gotta be kidding me,' but then figured why not Boyle? I laughed and wished I could tell him. I think he would've dug a most surreal moment.
In any case, his class was my favorite, the high point of my scholastic week. I congratulate Professor Boyle on his latest award and wish him well on the next book. And remember to look alive in the Third World—Boyle is everywhere.
Tuesday, March 03, 2015
So long, Jeff Carroll
2006 San Diego Marathon. Jeff is the burly guy looking to camera. |
That fall, Jeff was putting in the miles for the Phoenix Marathon, while I was gearing up to run Honolulu. In spring, he'd already notched the LA Marathon and was a distance running veteran, with lots of sound advice for rookies like me. (Jeff taught me to carry plastic leaf bags on long runs as a poor man's raincoat, as well as a handy disposable warm-up jacket for races.)
He was a grounded guy, down-to-earth—families will do that for you. We shared long runs talking about home equity and our jobs and the aches and pains of middle age. Completing our races, we reupped for another round with TNT, signing up for the San Diego Marathon. I was determined to better my Honolulu time. Jeff advised me not to push it, but I knew better. I hurt my knee, recovered, then broke a bone in my foot. No marathon for me that year.
I can't remember if Jeff signed up for the fall 2006 marathon team. (I did and trained for the 2007 Phoenix Marathon.) But he used to read this blog and would stop by every now and then with a remark or a word of congratulations when I set some pr. We eventually fell out of touch.
Today I learned Jeff died from cancer.
While we were never super close, I can't help but feel diminished. Jeff was good guy, steady, loved by his family. I would have liked to see him stack up another decade or two, but that's the way things roll. No guarantees. Still, Jeff seemed to have wrung a great deal out of the years that he had.
So good-bye, teammate. May God welcome you into the Great Beyond where there's no such thing as a sore IT band and the water stations serve beer and it doesn't hurt your time.
Photo: Mark McQuaid
Sunday, March 01, 2015
Review: Quartered Safe Out Here
Quartered Safe Out Here: A Harrowing Tale of World War II by George MacDonald Fraser
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Author Fraser served in the English forces toward the end of the Second World War, fighting in Burma with an infantry outfit. His recollections of battle, hardship, his mates and the Japanese enemy are vividly rendered, as you might expect from a lifelong journalist and author of the Flashman series. Fraser is delightfully non-P.C., holding no regrets for his service, seeking no self-pity, and believing in the justice of his cause.
And while this is a quick, insightful read on a little-known aspect of World War II, my only quarrel is with the author's ear. He accurately depicts the words and phrases of his North Country comrades. But in this case, accuracy clashes with readability as the mangled vowels and consonants slow down the flow and occasionally jar you off the page.
That aside, an interesting non-fiction look at a forlorn corner of the war that was no less deadly for it's obscurity.
View all my reviews
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Author Fraser served in the English forces toward the end of the Second World War, fighting in Burma with an infantry outfit. His recollections of battle, hardship, his mates and the Japanese enemy are vividly rendered, as you might expect from a lifelong journalist and author of the Flashman series. Fraser is delightfully non-P.C., holding no regrets for his service, seeking no self-pity, and believing in the justice of his cause.
And while this is a quick, insightful read on a little-known aspect of World War II, my only quarrel is with the author's ear. He accurately depicts the words and phrases of his North Country comrades. But in this case, accuracy clashes with readability as the mangled vowels and consonants slow down the flow and occasionally jar you off the page.
That aside, an interesting non-fiction look at a forlorn corner of the war that was no less deadly for it's obscurity.
View all my reviews
Monday, February 23, 2015
3 Books: Brains, Bling and Beating Diabetes
Lately it seems everything on this blog is 50ZG. True, but there are other books on the market, in fields other than snarky satire. Said books examine a wide range of issues from our sense of touch, to our sense of style, to our desire to avoid Type 2 diabetes. More importantly, said books are written by people I know. Expand your knowledge base and enjoy the following:
Touch: The Science of Hand, Heart and Mind
Author David J. Linden went to high school with my wife. Later, he become a neuroscientist at Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine and a New York Times bestselling author of two readable books on the mind. Now he tackles the skin and our sense of touch, pointing out our lifelong need for human interaction and how touch organs influence everything from social growth to consumer choice. Discover why we're so "touchy" in under three-hundred pages. Find the man online at David J. Linden Neurobiologist and Author.
Chain Mail + Color: 20 Jewelry Projects Using Aluminum Jump rings, Scales, and Disks
Author Vanessa Walilko is my niece. Later, she went on to found her own jewelry business, win competitions and see her work displayed in films such as Night at the Museum 3. The go-to gal on costume chain mail, Vanessa offers the crafty easy-to-follow guides for projects involving the aforementioned jump rings, scales, disks, plus washers, all in a variety of colors. If you're stuck inside for winter, this well-illustrated book will help you pass time making necklaces and bracelets until your street finally gets plowed or spring arrives. The author may be found online arguing with bull nerds about Elven power pods, or, more likely, conducting business at: Kali Butterfly: Dynamic Chainmail Jewelry.
Blood Glucose Levels and Diabetes Control (The Diabetes Leading Edge Series Book 1)
Authors Barbara and Clyde Goodheart are the parents of my dear friend Karen, whom I used to work with at the post office in Skokie, Illinois. Later, Barbara went on to become a distinguished medical writer and Clyde to become a scientist with a string of degrees. Now they are collaborating on a trio of eBooks addressing the very pressing issue of diabetes. With diabetes cases expected to increase by 165% over the next thirty years, this is a good time to learn about your blood sugar, what can go wrong and why. If you or a loved one are new to the disease, these books can give you the knowledge you need to fight that bad boy. Find Barbara online at: Barbara Goodheart.com
Touch: The Science of Hand, Heart and Mind
Author David J. Linden went to high school with my wife. Later, he become a neuroscientist at Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine and a New York Times bestselling author of two readable books on the mind. Now he tackles the skin and our sense of touch, pointing out our lifelong need for human interaction and how touch organs influence everything from social growth to consumer choice. Discover why we're so "touchy" in under three-hundred pages. Find the man online at David J. Linden Neurobiologist and Author.
Chain Mail + Color: 20 Jewelry Projects Using Aluminum Jump rings, Scales, and Disks
Author Vanessa Walilko is my niece. Later, she went on to found her own jewelry business, win competitions and see her work displayed in films such as Night at the Museum 3. The go-to gal on costume chain mail, Vanessa offers the crafty easy-to-follow guides for projects involving the aforementioned jump rings, scales, disks, plus washers, all in a variety of colors. If you're stuck inside for winter, this well-illustrated book will help you pass time making necklaces and bracelets until your street finally gets plowed or spring arrives. The author may be found online arguing with bull nerds about Elven power pods, or, more likely, conducting business at: Kali Butterfly: Dynamic Chainmail Jewelry.
Blood Glucose Levels and Diabetes Control (The Diabetes Leading Edge Series Book 1)
Authors Barbara and Clyde Goodheart are the parents of my dear friend Karen, whom I used to work with at the post office in Skokie, Illinois. Later, Barbara went on to become a distinguished medical writer and Clyde to become a scientist with a string of degrees. Now they are collaborating on a trio of eBooks addressing the very pressing issue of diabetes. With diabetes cases expected to increase by 165% over the next thirty years, this is a good time to learn about your blood sugar, what can go wrong and why. If you or a loved one are new to the disease, these books can give you the knowledge you need to fight that bad boy. Find Barbara online at: Barbara Goodheart.com
Sunday, February 22, 2015
Joe Leahy Promos 50ZG
The silver-tongued Mr. Leahy. |
Congrats +John P. McCann #books #authors #googlepluscommunity #googlepluscircleshare #amazondeals #fiftyshadesofgrey
A real pro, Joe was a blast to work with on Freakazoid! and I appreciate his support.
Over at the blog Protein Wisdom, Darleen Glick compares the book to Spinal Tap—high praise, indeed—and writes:
"So I bring to your attention a delicious little parody via Amazon called Fifty Shades of Zane Grey. An inspired mash-up of soft-core bondage porn and purple-prosed westerns."
Amazon reader Jim Wright included in his review:
"If you like The Funny, JP Mac brings it. I laughed several times per page. If you have a taste for good Bad Writing, this is a feast."
Thank you Joe, Darleen and Jim.
With the success of the film, I'm liking the shelf life of anything lampooning "Fifty Shades."
Image: twiki
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