Colorado was made for Harleys

Native Americans call it “The Iron Pony”, a description well put. When you straddle the leather seat, there is a feeling not unlike when a cowboy mounts a wild horse at a rodeo. You know something awesome is about to happen, but you’re not quite sure what. Starting a hog for the first time is part of a love affair that will last forever. When that “Twin V” engine comes to life between your legs, you will have an idea of how that wild horse rider must feel.

Nothing on the planet sounds like a Harley. At an idle, it has a low chugging beat, slow and strong like a rhinoceros just before the charge. The weight and massiveness of the machine is deceptive, even a little intimidating. Your first thought is that if this bike falls, it’s all over but the crying. Oh, well, either ride it or sell it! Once you let the clutch out and start to move, magic happens. The ponderous, chrome hog becomes a graceful lady, responsive to your every touch. Each gear a different dimension to her character. Every mile per hour faster a study in stability.

You look at your companion riders in front, on the side and behind. A knowing smile spreads quickly. You are part of an American legend. Ride your “Iron Pony” into the sunset. A great adventure waits!


Ride on,
Mittster

Colorado High

Remember John Denver? I happened to hear Colorado Rocky Mountain High the other day and frankly, it blew me away. I was such a fan in the '70s and '80s, but his music faded in the flurry of my busy life. His music didn't seem relevant in the hustle and bustle of the '90s.

His passing in 1997 had little impact on me at the time. I did pause to reflect on a fabulous concert he did in Tucson, Arizona, that I attended. Thank, God, I did. It was the last time I saw him in person. While his band took a break, John continued playing his twelve string guitar and singing his own songs with passion and honesty rarely seen anymore. He didn't need stage props, makeup or pyrotechnics.

I spent many summers in Aspen, Colorado, working construction. You could always find me after work and on weekends, sitting outside on a bench, playing my guitar, and imitating John Denver, rather badly I might add. His music blended perfectly with the tall aspen tress swaying in the wind while mighty pines whistled soft, fragrant background music. I can still smell the fresh air laced with the smell of wild flowers and green grass. The sky was so blue it took my breath away.

Sundays in Aspen were always exciting. Softball games were a tradition in Colorado mining towns. After spending brutal winters working the mines, a summer baseball game was pure heaven on earth for the miners. Modern Aspen still keeps the tradition going and John would play softball when he was in town right alongside bartenders, shop owners, construction workers, city workers, and just about everyone else in town. He would drive his Jeep down from his house in Snowmass and join in the fun. Always a gentleman and always just one of the guys.

I am truly missing him today. I really don't know why, except that maybe my own mortality is causing me to reflect on good times gone by. They are not lost as long as I can reminisce and still hear the honest, reflective and passionate music of musicians and songwriters like John Denver.

I'm just saying,

Mittster

The Case for Brevity

I recently received the following e-mail from someone who read my murder mystery Evil in the Mirror:

"Mitt, sorry this took so long. I wanted to say, "OH, MY GOD", your book drove me nuts. I am the hunting and fishing mag. or book kind of guy, even real history, but this son of a pup kept me jumping. NO SHIT!

"At first the sex parts were a little weird to me, but when I got to Chapter 30 I couldn't put your book down. The Cards were even playing a football game and I didn't give a hoot. The thing I liked is the short chapters. I would normally fall sleep or have to run and I would lose my train of thought. Anyway, it is my first ever murder mystery, and like you said; you know who the bad guys are from the very beginning.

"Jeri just read it this weekend and told me to settle down. She said she has read many books that had more smut than I could imagine. So, HA HA, that means we have a good long future yet to come. She also loved the book and could not put it down.

"Toni also read it and said the same. She freaked about the types of murders but still loved the book. She didn’t put it down until it was finished.

"I have taken a picture of the book and put it on my computer. I sent it to many friends in Alaska, Washington, Old Mexico, Florida, and many more. One bud e-mailed me back and said they had read it and loved it. COOL!

"I'm out of room and gotta go.

Dale"


When writing Evil in the Mirror, I pictured each chapter like staccato notes being played by an orchestra. Sharp, short notes that were loud, but not deafening. Kind of like the Surprise Symphony No. 94 by Haydn.

I also wanted to keep the book short, focused, to the point, and exciting to read. Some said it was too short to be a real novel, while others said the chapters needed to be longer. I maintained my focus and continued writing until the story was finished. No more, no less.

You can't judge a book by its size any more that you can judge the cost by its weight. I am proud of all the reviews that have been posted for Evil in the Mirror. I am also proud of the fact that I maintained my integrity and intuition concerning this book. You can bet the sequel, Day Stalker, will be maintained the same way.

Write on,

Mittster

Rules is Rules

I just can't help but compare Rules is Rules to the Democratic party. The President and his team will not move the train off the burning trestle! Doing so would be admitting failure and as we all know, only the Republican party makes mistakes.

The Good news:
It was a normal day in Sharon Springs, Kansas , when a Union Pacific crew boarded a loaded coal train for the long trek to Salina .

The Bad news:
Just a few miles into the trip a wheel bearing became overheated and melted, letting a metal support drop down and grind on the rail, creating white hot molten metal droppings spewing down to the rail.

The Good news:
A very alert crew noticed smoke about halfway back in the train and immediately stopped the train in compliance with the rules.

The Bad news:
The train stopped with the hot wheel over a wooden bridge with creosote ties and trusses.

The crew tried to explain this to Union Pacific higher-ups but were instructed not to move the train!

They were informed that Rules prohibited moving the train when a part was found to be defective!

REMEMBER, RULES IS RULES! (Don't ever let common sense get in the way of a good disaster ! )


I'm just saying,

Mittster

The Power of PJs

Sunday, my wife and I drove over to her mother's
house to deliver some homemade cinnamon rolls for Mum's breakfast.

Rather than get out of our pjs, wifey thought it would be funny just to wear our long nightshirts. After all it was Sunday before a holiday and there would be no one out and about at seven a.m., right? Wrong!

As we drove into the driveway, a new neighbor was doing yard work next door and she stopped working when she saw us get out of the car. Mum came out of her front door at the same time. My comment was, "I knew we shouldn't have worn our pjs to your mother's!"

Of course, the neighbor walked toward us smiling and introducing herself to the two idiots in sleep shirts and a mother-in-law who hadn't combed her hair yet, as we apologized profusely for being dressed like clowns.

As it turned out, the neighbor Debbi told us she often retreated into her fenced backyard in a halter top and worn out shorts and that we were not to worry about the way we were dressed. Personally, I thought being half dressed in a fenced backyard was a far cry from standing in front of a whole neighborhood full of open windows wearing old, faded sleep shirts.

Wifey invited Debbi into the house and we all sat in the living room reminiscing. It turns out Debbi was a school marm from Michigan, but now teaches at the elementary school in Camp Verde. My wife and her mother are also from Michigan. It was like old home week!

Of course, the subject of my murder mystery, Evil in the Mirror, came up because I am forever trying to sell the novel to anyone who will sit still long enough. One thing led to another and I now have been invited to speak in front of Debbi's third grade class about writing novels. We also left a copy of the book for Debbi to keep and review. A good review from an educator on Amazon would be a very good thing indeed.

Wait a minute...seems to me when I was in the third grade, we played with mud pies and recited parts of Peter, Peter, Pumpkin Eater. These kids are learning about being an author in the third grade? What if they are smarter than I am? Oh, crap...what have I gotten myself into?

I'm just saying,

Mittster