“Prophets Of Gloom”

As I scrolled through my Facebook page in recent months I’ve noticed that I lot of people, myself included, are frustrated. They’re feed up with politics, life, finance issues and so on. But I have also noticed plenty of comments and memes expressing the removal of people who “bring me down” “Always so gloomy” “have a dark cloud overhead that follows them” What’s more amazing is the people writing or creating the memes are supposedly the joyful ones. Those filled with “Hope” and “Gladness” they have “Uplifting” and “Inspirational words of wisdom” Most troubling for me is hearing it come from Christians, I am part of that community myself. In this New modern world of  created “Safe spaces” one hopes that, that community is among the giants of safe spaces. Ahh..but alas, we are dealing with human being…with free will of course.


Here’s a thought and it’s a serious one. One should consider the prophet of gloom. Why? because in the Top Ten list of leading causes of death in America, suicide is #10! It’s not #1 but clearly it’s important enough to be listed.according to thissuicide1Here are some interesting quick facts for you. Gender: The suicide rate among Men are 4x higher than women. Men represent 79% of All suicides. Age: Within every 100,000 Young Adults ages 20-24 there 12.7 suicides. And there is an increase of 30 per 100k in males 50+, with 36 per for ages 75+. The female highest is ages 45-54. For the Elderly who are divorced or widowed, they rank the highest number of suicides within the elderly.according to this

Now, the death rate next to 100,000 doesn’t seem like much and we know that suicide is high with teenagers but doesn’t it strike you as odd at what the highest rates are? suicide2suicide4

They are 79% male, highest between 40-50+, 75+…and females 45-54. They are the somewhat  through-away or forgotten ages. Middle of life, when people just wish you move aside. The age where you have worked for years and raised kids, perhaps they’ve spent years running away from you causing stress with every phone call. At 50+ you find your career snatched from you or illnesses are starting or peaking. The marriage is in its 20th or 25 year and the arguing over the kids, disappearing finances and so on have taking its toll. The Elderly no one has time for, have lived long and lost lots and their aches and pains steals their sleep…

And the 20 year olds are just starting life an become disillusioned when they discover just how hard it was for their parents to live and take care of them.  So…what’s my point to this, right?

For those of you barely hanging on, keep doing so. For those who have been called “doom” and “Gloomy” and have been the subject of such memes and feel pushed to to the side…hold on to HOPE! I get you, I’ve been there…and, for you others.

suicide5Help! If you truly are the ray of sunshine you believe yourself to be, then be be that to the person you say is bringing YOU down. If there is no one around them or even willing to be around them, where on earth do or who do they turn to..?  suicide10 Instead of talking behind their backs, mocking them or using them for fodder; try understanding them. Pop culture has made it its business to tell us who we should except and how to create safe places for certain people… But when it comes to mental illness, depression, the blues and suicide all bets are off. Hey, I even remember hearing that Christians don’t and shouldn’t get depressed some verses. Uh…it’s a fallen and imperfect world, of course they do. Some people even have chemical imbalances within their brains.

Now, the chances are, that person that you say is  bringing you down, won’t kill themselves but can we really be sure. The tendency, dear reader, is to move away from that person and run towards the other rays of sunshine dancing in the field. I’m hoping you’ll consider them, the next time you run into a Prophet of Gloom.  until next time…

For help:a life line Or call 1 (800) 273-8255 National Suicide Prevention Lifeline.


“In The Apartments Next To Mine” Book Excerpt 5

The snow swallowed the city in a dome of white and grey.  Every so often you could see a faint flash of red or yellow.  If you were able to see it sharply, it was too late; the vehicle was already too close.

She was awakened by a gentle touch and whisked away to the bathroom in what could only seem like a dream to her…

His alarm startled him, sending a bolt of electricity through his heart.  “Crap!” he yelled, rising from his slumber.  He rose up on his elbow, then his hand and just sat with his feet dangling off the bed.  Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he slid slowly off the bed, easing his feet down onto the icy linoleum.  Geez, do I have to? He thoughtIt definitely was not a day for traveling.  Most people would stay home and watch television.  He sighed, and then reached over for his phone.  No messages.  “I guess we’re doing this…,” whispering to himself.  With the cold floor waking him up with every step, he entered the spotlight of the kitchen, put on a pot of water and headed for the bathroom.  Somehow the canary paint shined with the brilliance of the sun – or was it just too early in the morning?  He begrudgedly opened the medicine cabinet, grabbed a handful of vitamins, chucked them in his mouth and bobbed his head in the sink to drink some water.  Then he slipped into the shower and melted away in its warmth.

She stood in the doorway naked and dripping wet.  No movement; just still as a statute, staring at her wrist…a moment later a flicker of one finger.  “Come eat baby.  Breakfast is ready,” said the voice from the kitchen.  But it was a ploy, a white flag…a surrendering to the will of the naked statute standing in the hallway, a compromise to continue the day as planned.  But Venus did not budge.  She stood firm in all her great beauty, naked and unashamed.  The voice continued to prompt for a response.  Then, with no further words, put two blueberry waffles in the toaster…and waited.

The charcoal grey sky, gave way to a light heather grey.  The imprisoned sun was fighting to be seen but it was outmatched.  He peeked out the howling window on his way back to the kitchen to eat.  Bacon, eggs and cheese…? He thought. But the white bearded, Quaker starred at him from the cabinet. “Dag!”  Grabbing the box, he continued on with the original plan.

The blueberry scent drifted down the hallway.  Suddenly, the statute came to life.  She let out a loud screech of joy, tapped her wrist to her forehead and shot down the hallway.  The slapping of her bare feet on the floor put a smirk on her mother’s face.  She’d won this round.  The shivering, cold, purple-lipped, 70 pound, wet child leaped onto the chair.  She tilted her head, closed her eyes and smiled.  With a blank expression, she stared down at the plate…within an eye’s blink the plate soared across the room.  She screeched again, flapped her left hand and stuffed the waffle in her mouth with the right.  When her mouth was full, she commenced with the sharing of her food.  First, she smeared the waffles on the table top, though her mother protested against it.  Then, she shared her blueberry waffles with the wall, stove, refrigerator and her mother’s face…

“No, no…no!”  He shouted after looking up at the clock.  He rushed up from the table banging his hand and dropped the plate.  “Really!”  There was no time to worry about the pain.  He ran to the back to get dressed and ran his toe into the edge of the bed.  “@%#!”  Still the clock kept ticking away the time.  He tossed on his shirt, backward, tripped putting his leg into his jeans and forgot to shave…”Dang it.” He yelled running down the hallway, taking his coat he let out a long sigh, touched his face and thought, she likes fuzzy anyway.  The thought made him chuckle. He dashed out the door. “The bottle!” the yelled, shoving the door open.  Leaving the key in the door, he rushed back inside, snatched a small gift and a tiny bottle of water off the table and bolted back out the door.



In_The_Apartments_Ne_Cover_for_Kindle                                                                                                                                        Excerpt taken from “Spectrum”

“In The Apartments Next To Mine” Book Excerpt 4


“Oh goodness, yes!” Her eyes lit up. “I have been since I was a little thing. My first…” Her sentence interrupted by the conductor. “Castle Hill Avenue next” He announced. Disappointment washed over her face as she watched him gather his bags in his hand. The talk was a delight and it just began. He pursed his lips with a sigh. “Sorry. This is my stop…” He said, sadly.

“I enjoyed our talk; you have a wonderful evening…” She stopped. She realized they never introduced themselves. “Owen…I enjoyed meeting you..?”


“Well. Agnes, I guess we’ll have to finish this some other time…bye” He waved and walked out the door. Agnes, lifted her glasses above her head, smiled and followed him down the platform with her eyes. Once the train left in station, she opened her book and continued reading.

Owen nearly ran into a pole looking back at the car where Agnes was sitting. With each step down the stairs, he smiled a little more…

Exhausted from standing on the long lines and shopping, Owen rushed down the stairs to the platform only to be met by hordes of hot, sweaty bodies.

“6 train arriving in one minute,” the automated voice rang out.  No chance of sitting today, he thought.  The train rushed into the station with a gush of steaming heat ahead of it.  A few strands of blond hair streamed across Owen’s face, like microscopic ribbons, from the woman in front of him.  When the doors opened, the herd of humans poured out of the doors stampeding all who stood in their way.  Though he stepped to the side, he couldn’t avoid the smearing of lotions, perfume, sweat and dirt he received.  Owen looked down at his shirt, took a deep breath, clutched his bag handles tight, then pressed on his pocket to crank up his music and stepped into the car, then assumed his position as the next sardine in the can.

He tried his best to ignore the tourist with their camera phones, maps, backpacks and bewildered looks…but he couldn’t.  Especially since a group of  acrobats were standing on his feet, crushing his bags, had their map in his face and elbows extended, taking pictures and all without missing a beat.  Lord, I’m about to lose my religion! he thought.

       At that very moment he looked through the window of the next car and saw…What’s her name again? Agnes!  That’s it!”  The thought calmed his heart and made him smile.  The train passed through Manhattan and entered the Bronx, he finally got a seat but when he looked through the window, the woman was gone.  Did I imagine it? he thought.

Three weeks later, while seated in the corner seat, he noticed her sitting next to him in the next car in the same seat; she was reading a book.  She ran he fingers through her hair then turned the page.  Agnes looked up briefly to see Owen in the car beside her.  She was puzzled for a moment as to why a man was staring at her.  Then she remembered…she smiled at him, and then continued reading but the warm smile remained with her for a few more stops.

Two weeks later, juggling 2 bags full of melons, pineapples and peaches, Owen shot down the subway stairs and crashed into a wave of straphangers coming up.  “Excuse me…excuse me!” he announced.  But the current was too strong.  He was struck mid-way, being pushed to and fro.  He reached the bottom just as the train left the station.  “@#@!,” he slumped back against the column and dropped his bags.

       “Uptown 6 train arriving in 1 minute,” the machine voice called.  He inhaled deeply and stepped dangerously close to the edge of the platform.  His t-shirt waved across his chest as the hot breeze entered the station before the train.  Owen closed his eyes and imagined himself standing on a beach.  When the train stopped, he opened his eyes to see Agnes sitting inside.  Stepping into the train, he immediately chuckled.  “It’s you again.”  She blushed and raised her hand to her mouth, covering her delight at his remark.  “So, are you on a lunch break?  It was noon.

“No, silly thing,” she giggled.  “I’ve long since retired.  Maybe I’m looking for you.”

A serious look fell on his face.  “Really…?”  There was a long pause.


Taken from “The Pelham Affair”


“Chasing The Elusive Pink Unicorn”


       The other day my wife and I were helping our oldest daughter home after giving birth to another grandchild. Bags and baby in tow, we slipped into a cab and headed home towards the Bronx. The driver politely ask if the air conditioning was okay. I answered “yes” then he asked about the music…again I replied “yes”. I then started asking questions, which I normally do. Since I know Uber is a hot topic and because I’m naturally curious, I asked about the difference and if he considered driving for them.
    He’d been driving for 6 years and was somewhat happy with it. He has friends who drive under Uber’s umbrella… The big thing though, was just being happy living in America!


As we continued to talk I as asked what country was he original from. Yes, I do that a lot. I am always curious as to how people view “my” country, it’s one thing to read about it in a paper or have some activist parade about or a non-profit organization tell you. It’s quite another thing to just sit and talk to people and find out for yourself.


  Well, he’s from Nepal…a farming family. He’s lived in the States for 9 years and driving for 6 of those years. Don’t let someone tell you that we are not an exceptional country, because we are and everyone coming here knows it. Unfortunately, what they don’t realize is how costly things are. We offer great opportunities to ALL Americans, sadly, natural born citizen don’t often take advantage of that fact. Far too many want free handouts and easy answers to success or The American Dream… You know, that Pink Unicorn. However, fresh face, hard working immigrants/migrants are quick to grab the opportunity. Because their American Dream is to come to this country and find a job, save a little money, help their families and own a home if possible. The biggest emphasis on getting a job.


     I’ll get back to the driver in a moment. For now, let’s think about the pink unicorn.  The early settlers came in search of the New world dream. They wanted to be free to live, own property, have a family, create business and wealth for themselves. They didn’t want to be taxed to death! But wish to enjoy the fruit of their Labour… They were fleeing a corrupt church controlled by a corrupt government and a corrupt government controlled by a corrupt church. The Monarch had many working hard but few had riches, because it was given to the governing bodies. So they ended up poor and in poor health. Heck, I’d run too!
   Freedom and liberty. That was and is, the American Dream. The freedom and ability to work for yourself or someone else and earn a profit from it to live off of. To buy what you need, with a little extra for special occasions and events.


It’s still the reason why people flock to our country. But many are disillusioned when they get here. You see, their image of America is skewed by celebrities and TV news, that all westerners are well off! But you and I know the truth. That’s just a small segment of our population. Most of us, work darn hard with little but debt to show for it. This is where the pink unicorn comes in. We, believe the Hype ourselves and drive the debt  through the roof! We fawn over celebrities, We seek the latest of everything, even if we can’t afford it, believing we’re entitled to it. Not that we have to earn it and this dear reader, is the wrong message to send to the world. But, whatever, right..?


Back to my cab driver…
He was from a from a small village in the country, of Nepal. His parents were farmers. With a visa he found a job and started to learn English. His boss sponsored him…he met a woman, the bosses daughter, and romance sparked. About a year later they married. Boom. Instant citizen! They moved from the Midwest to NYC…she’s a nurse and he’s a cabbie. He went back to Nepal recently, though not to frequently, because of the cost to travel.
   In Nepal he’s somewhat of a celebrity. Where as before he was treated as a nobody. But because he lives in America he is now a “big shot”. The U.S. dollar is nearly triple the value it is here, so, with a few thousand dollars saved, he bought his parents a home in the capital city. He’s retired them too. He said, $3,000 would keep them for about 3 years… Going for a visit meant, very nearly going broke too. As friends and family expect a gift from the “rich American”. Can you see the pink unicorn theory at work here?
   His response to me was pretty much like “What can I do, it’s what they expect..”
  Expectations: are ours as great as Dickens novel? Do we expect and now feel entitled to something great or even greater than we can afford? If so, how does this affect the rest of the world?…dare I say, you already know the answer?
   The early settlers just wanted a chance to survive. As time moved on, others came seeking the fortune the new world had to offer the venture capitalist… Businessman. Staking their claims in fur trade, farming and even the slave trade. Nevertheless it was about the freedom and liberty, to be.
  Today, new immigrants coming here, whether legal or illegal are seeking the same basic freedoms. Let’s be honest, if things were so great back in the old country why bother coming to American. Growing up, in my teens years, many of my friends were from Jamaica and the Dominican Republic. Some here legally, some illegally, some involved in criminal activities, some were good citizens. But without fail, from to time someone would complain about the U.S. “in Kingston…” This. “On the island…” That. Of course I thought..well go back!! Wouldn’t you?! But they wouldn’t do that because they know what they were running from. Irregardless of America’s warts and problems it still offers greater opportunities and liberties. Again, today’s newcomers come saddled with the the western television version of the American Dream. The Pink Unicorn.
   Some are reporting that the dream is dead. No, it’s been replaced with the mythical unicorn… One way it’s been done is with the near cult like worship of celebrities. Everything they have, young and old alike want. We’ve allowed them to dictate fashion, beauty, faith and fitness to us. When they work for us. If you don’t see their movies they don’t get paid. When they fall out of the limelight…they panic then reinvent themselves. Ugly cycle,right?
  Companies tell us what we need…no! Must have…and so on. The end result is that Americans will be happier with all of the things. But…it’s a vapor, mist…a myth! 
  You can sell drugs but for so long, a gang can replace a family but for so far. You’ll end up dead or in prison. You pay for fake hair and nails but for so long. Eventually the money will run out. How many talent shows, record deals and movie contracts can there be?! And add to it, the runway PC culture and you have your usurped American dream, replaced by the elusive pink unicorn. Where no one is happy.


That unhappy discontentment spreads across the globe. Those needing the basic necessities of life, swap out the dream for getting those needs, for getting the pink unicorn they see on TV shows and celebrity news.
   But you and I know that it is only a small percentage that are professional athlete, movie stars etc. There are far more middle income and poor families than there are super rich and celebrities…
   Perhaps, if we Americans clear our vision, we would have less disgruntled Americans and far less disillusioned immigrants.  The Native nations and early settlers had it right…the Nations took, grew and ate what was needed. The settlers wanted to be free of corrupt control. Work for themselves…earn and earn the right to keep what they worked hard for. Yes. Of course they partied like rock stars. When the crops were in! When the days work was completed! When their children married! When the baby was born!   You get the idea, right?
   So now the dream is to get what…?  Famous? A million Hits or Likes? The Patriots would leap from their graves, Board their ships and serve the King, if they could see what their spilled blood has produced. I could see their zombified corpse standing in Constitution Hall ready to put flame to parchment…
   So, is the American Dream dead?  No, I don’t think so but we do have a skewed view of that dream. For me, personally, it’s about doing the job I love. Saving money for my retirement years, getting out of debt before I retire. Hey, that educational debt doesn’t disappear on its own and I highly doubt, social security and Medicare will cover the cost. The dream, is also about enjoying time with our families, enjoying vacations from our daily lives. Sharing stories, life lessons, an occasional visit from neighbors and friends. Talking to strangers and making them new friends. Meeting someone interesting…perhaps, marrying them. Extend that circle with a child…
   Well, I guess that’s just me. Yet, it seems that when we focus on the things that matter most, the essentials of life, we tend to be happy people. Content. But when we Americans allow ourselves to drift from the essentials, the American Dream. We fall for the elusive pink unicorn. A cancerous myth, that spreads worldwide…
   What do you think?  Until next time, dear reader…



Faith… Trusting and believing in something you can not see, feel or even touch. And hoping, no, knowing that it is there. One dictionary described it as putting your full weight on something. Interesting right?!


We exercise faith everyday. For example, we step into elevators  with no thought to how they are made, if it will hold…unless fat people get on, if we’ll make it to the top or bottom safely. Our concern for safety comes when our faith is tested or rocked! Like when the elevator jumps, skips a floor…or worse, when it stops. Then we look at the fat people, scan the capacity sign and question Otis’s manufacturing abilities. I know, I’m one of the people they look at. It’s at that very moment that many decide never to get into an elevator again. That’s because fear has set in, the faith had been tested and it didn’t seem to work. At the very least, it didn’t work properly…
   I have been living life as a Christian since 1993 and I have seen many phases of my faith, belief, ideology… etc. In twenty plus years I’ve gone from crazy new “believer” that wanted everyone saved, to, wanting the same thing but present it differently because I’m much older now. For example, I fearlessly walked in a bar once to pass out flyers and talk about Christ. I would go to basketball courts etc. Other christians would sometimes frown upon my boldness. I didn’t care.
   Now that I’m old enough to be staring retirement in the face and…just slow enough not to duck a punch add to that, the current direction our country is going. I’m more likely to strike up a conversation first. I’m also quickly approaching the other side of life…
   Faith, now, takes on a whole new meaning. Before I stepped on the elevator without thinking. But I’ve experienced the jumps, floor skips and stops. My Faith has been tested…heck, it’s been rocked!
  This has been a most trying year. I celebrated my 18th wedding anniversary 3 weeks ago. But there wasn’t much celebration. From the beginning, our marriage had an uphill climb. We a “blended family” as the experts call it. So there were those challenges. But we championed those hurdles. Then came finances, unemployment, debt, illnesses etc.
   But this year, dear reader, has been strange indeed. Items in the last sentence are still hanging over us. But for some reason the start of this year began with an argument that hasn’t seemed to receive its course correction. Every effort to fix it, didn’t/doesn’t work. Piled on top, are the issues of our children, even the grown ones, which seem to be at every turn. So, as you parents know, every time you think we can get back to us…another disaster shows up and the space between us gets wider. And it did…hints the lack of celebration.
   Though we cannot afford it. I found myself searching for lawyers to end what has already ended. We know so many couples, too many, whose marriages have ended for less…what made me think we could do better than them. You know, in an age of electronic distractive devices. When a couple aren’t talking to each other, these devices make things worse! Anyway, like those who chose not get in another elevator because of the bad experiences. I too thought of, as I just said, it was time to call it quits…


Did you that faithfulness is not a good thing? The bible teaches that it is impossible to please God without faith. Yeah but! Is my response too.
And it is impossible to please God without faith. Anyone who wants to come to him must believe that God exists and that he rewards those who sincerely seek him.”-Hebrews 11:6.  Yeah but!
I recently spoke with my sister, catching up on our families. She too has had a rough year. She questioned God on His “not giving us more than we can bear…” She reminded me, as I told her how I’ve lived this life for over 20 years and didn’t know how to nor did I want to quit, that too many people don’t sit down ask God, “why?” and wrestle with Him for the answer Or wait, they let the issues drown out the answer, whether it be wait or move on and drown out their faith.
   If you read chapter 11 of Hebrews you’ll find a running theme. The people described in the chapter faced incredible odds and each one chose God and chose to serve Him above their circumstances. Some like Abraham, whose obedience was counted as faith, please God immensely even in their imperfection. They were blessed because of their faith.
   Blessings don’t always mean money. It could be your health. The ability to work as another verse says.
  Walking and living by faith isn’t easy…far too many have the misconceptions about Christians, that “they are weak and need a crutch”. That’s a fallacy, there’s no statue for us to hold and prayed to… There’s just Faith. We’re called “stupid” because of it and it takes and awful lot of strength to hold on to what you believe, just like the strength of character to hold on to your marriage…and life.


My computer died last week with no money to replace it. I was a third into my my novel and in the middle of updating my current book, when this happened! ( currently using my phone) Dear, reader, I don’t know what you face but I’ve told you what I’m facing. I am quite sure that I don’t wish to give up even though the elevator stopped between floors. To get to where I’m going, I need to step in it again and again. I have chosen to hold on to Faith in the face of adversity. Believing that my creator, who knows my needs, will bless me because of that faith…and turn my adversity into victory.
What will you choose…?

It’s #IndiePrideDay

Today Independent Authors, Writers and Publishers from around the world celebrate. Saying “Hello world we’re here and there’s lots to discover. Come find your New favorite author!”

This massive undertaking was created by author Mark Shaw, under the #IndieBooksBeSeen banner last summer at this very same time. But it’s not about Shaw, it’s about the Indie Writing community. It’s about being heard above the “chatter” and allowing the reader the opportunity to discover an author they can grow with.
  Often times, independent authors or even small publishers I drowned out by the “big machine”, large publishing companies. But this is the time of year where, readers get to say “Hey, I just read this great book” in a Big way! Book tubers have joined in on the thunderous clap, now you can to, search for the hash tag #IndieBooksBeSeen or visit the website IndieBooksBeSeen.com
Come join the party, bake a cake if you like but by all means show some love to the Indie community.

“The Edges of Madness” pt. 1


The sun eased its way into the sky, soon it would uncover the events of last night…
  “How about her?…She really hot!” Roland said. Excited to be invited to the night ride. Jay snatched him by the collar. “This is not some sick sexual fantasy!” He let him go. “Him, I want him…go bring the truck around. I’ll wait for you at the corner”
“The dealer, what if he has a gun or something?!”
  “I’ll take care of it, you just get to the corner” Jay pulled his sweater down over his old revolver then yanked his hood over his bald head. He dashed across street and stopped between two vans, looking to see if anyone noticed him, then casually walked up to the dealer…
  “Listen…I’m looking for something special for my party tonight. You think you could help me?” The tattooed giant sized him up. The soft bottom shoes, tan cargo pants and navy wind breaker didn’t seem threatening. He wasn’t a cop but something was off about the guy.
  Jay’s eyebrow rose when he realized the dealer was suspicious. His hand whipped across his stomach and pulled out the gun…In a flash, the brown butt of the revolver hit the behemoth between the eyes. He fell back into Roland’s arms.
  “Good timing Ro…”
   “Thanks…but couldn’t you pick someone a little lighter?!”
“Stop whining and drag this bucket of lard to the truck”
   Their bodies were drenched in sweat, but they managed to get him to truck and drove off…

He sat at the edge of the cliff twirling the femur like a baton, earnestly thinking…
It wasn’t what to do with the body, but where to hide it until he wanted it found.


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