The Meth Epidemic, The Marines

ByJohn Brown

The Meth Epidemic

Mamphetamine is the most addictive illegal drug in America. Unlike marijuana, cocaine, or heroin, all of which are synthesized from easy-to-obtain plant material (cannabis, cocoa leaf, opium poppy), meth requires ephedrine or pseudoephedrine, which are very complex to make and require a lot of know-how and high-tech processing. The only folks who have that ability are legitimate chemical factories. In fact, there are less than a dozen such factories around the world that produce these chemicals. Which means it should be easy to stop illegal use at the source.

“Should” is the key word there.

When you’re trying to halt drug trafficking, you can work two sides. There’s the demand side and the supply side.

When you work on the demand side, you try to affect people’s desire and use.  For example, in the 1960’s the Federal Trade Commission, along with other government agencies and private groups, began a campaign against tobacco. Using government policy, public awareness, and education over the last forty years, these groups have significantly altered demand for tobacco in the United States. In 1963 more than half the nation smoked. 4,345 cigarettes were consumed per capita. But as these groups worked to affect demand, those numbers dropped steadily until by 2006 only 1,619 cigarettes were consumed per capita.

That’s astounding, folks. A whole culture was changed.

When you work on the supply side, you try to reduce the production and distribution of drugs. This can sometimes be almost impossible to do. For example, almost anyone can grow marijuana. And it takes very little knowledge to harvest and package the parts that are used.  Same with alcohol–home brewing has been practiced for ages. In both examples, the ingredients are easy to obtain and the processing is relatively simple and easy to hide.

But there are some drugs that are very difficult to produce. The key ingredient for barbiturates is one. In the 1950’s and 1960’s barbiturate abuse was increasing. But the government instituted some regulations on the legitimate businesses that produced these ingredients, and it reduced the amount available on the streets until we very seldom hear of barbiturates being used these days.

So where does meth fit in? Well, as I stated above, there are less than a dozen factories that create the key ingredients. Meth is a perfect candidate for supply side intervention. Unfortunately, regulation isn’t as easy as it may seem.

PBS’s Frontline recently aired “The Meth Epidemic” which explains the history of meth in the United States and the battle raging over its cure. If you’ve ever wondered about what meth is and how it affects our nation, you’ll want to watch this. I think you’ll find it eye-opening and well worth your time. Watch it for free here: http://video.pbs.org/video/1933783731.  

The Marines

The US Marine Corps is a fascinating organization with special capabilities. With the exception of the Coast Guard, they are the smallest of the United States’ armed forces, although they’re still bigger than the entire British army. Part of what makes the Marines unique is that they have the ability to rapidly deploy an independent task force (infantry, air support, ships) to almost anywhere in the world within days. Because of this, they are usually the first boots on the ground in any engagement. They pave the way and the Army and other branches follow to provide overwhelming and continuous force.

But the differences include more than their mission. The Marine Corps emphasizes authority and responsibility downward to a greater degree than the other military services. It members are, on average, younger. And its creed “Every Marine’s a Rifleman” has special implications for its commanders and troops.

In order to do some research for a novel I’m writing, I’ve been watching a lot of documentaries about special operations forces and the Marines. One of the best introductions to the Marines I’ve come across is the 2007 PBS documentary called The Marines. It examines what it takes to become a Marine and what it truly means to be one, outlining the rigorous training process that each recruit must endure to become a commissioned officer. I found it fascinating.

If you have ever been curious what makes the Marines different from the other branches of the military and what it takes to become one, you’ll want to watch this film. I couldn’t find it on the PBS site, but you can find it split into 10 parts at YouTube.com. Just go to site and search for “pbs the marines”.

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  • Monster Hunter International by Larry Correia

    ByJohn Brown

    MonsterHunterInternational_LarryCorreiaThere’s a joke that all horror movies would be over in two minutes if you just made the hero smart and gave him a gun.

    Well, Correia gives his likeable hero a gun, but not just any old thing. If you’re going to kill a vampire, why not use a rocket propelled grenade or a flame thrower? In fact, if there were enough monster outbreaks, you might have a government agency. You might also find that agency was willing to outsource some of the monster hunting to private contractors (ala Blackwater). And you can bet they won’t be hunting with pea shooters. They’ll be doing it right, with brains and firepower. Correia, someone who loves guns (used to own a gun shop and shoot competitively in rifle, shotgun, and pistol) and monsters, wrote a story that does just that.

    The idea of Larry Correia’s Monster Hunter International might remind you a bit of X-Files or Men in Black, but it’s neither. However, it is as  good as or better than both. Correia tells the story of Owen Pitt, a big lug of an accountant, who, as he was working late one evening, gets called into the office of his boss. No big deal, right? Except the fat man is naked, transforming into a werewolf, and vows to eat Pitt’s heart. It’s not quite how you want to end your day tallying debits and credits. Pitt almost dies in the encounter, but manages to “live the American dream” and throw his incompetent jerk of a boss from the fourteenth-story window and splatter him on a double-parked Lincoln Navigator below.

    Good work for a bean counter. When Pitt finally recovers, he gets an offer he can’t refuse (mostly because of the alluring agent that comes to recruit him), and he joins Monster Hunter International (MHI), the private contractor who sends out special force teams to use any means at their disposal to kill monsters. Unlucikly for Pitt, one of the baddest monsters around is just about to ruin the world forever, and Pitt finds himself in the middle of the fight.

    Correia fills the book with enough action for any red-blooded male, a variety of bad mamba jamba monsters, and wonderful characters. There’s romance and heroism (I got a lump in my throat at one part toward the end), but his signature is his humor. I laughed again and again.

    Part of that humor stems from the fact that Correia has an ear for good lines. Part stems from his delight in taking common tropes and stereotypes and twisting them. And this is another one of the things that I enjoyed immensely about the book. For example, the team of newbie hunters that Pitt joins is not made up of square-jawed males and females with Navy SEAL backgrounds, although some in the company do have that. Nope, Correia puts together an accountant, librarian, school teacher, and stripper (all people who faced some kind of monster and are ready for payback), and he makes them believable hunters. 

    This tongue-in-cheek tweaking is everywhere. There are elves in this book unlike any you have ever seen. But he also makes it personal. Owen is not your typical accountant. Even a number of the minor characters get this treatment. For example, one of the people on the team is a Black guy with Rasta hair. But Correia doesn’t choose from what Correia calls one of the four Hollywood stereotypes. Nope, this guy plays against those types. He isn’t the comic relief, the gangsta, the sports dude, or scary male. He’s his own man, a shy virgin with a good heart. Correia also gives his characters interesting backstories. And one of the delights is discovering them.

    I encountered a few minor flaws in the presentation, but these are easily overlooked. Easily. There’s also quite a bit of profanity (and so those who wish to avoid it are forewarned). However, when I turned the last page Friday night, I looked up at Larry who was lying on his bed in our La Quinta hotel room in Denver, his concealed .45 and 9mm guns on the floor beside him, and said, “Wow. WOW.” And then I think I said, “Dude, what a marvelous read” or maybe it was “Oh, great lord of zombie destruction tales do not smite me,” but I’m not sure because I was still thinking about the perfect last line of the perfect last scene of the last chapter.

    Now, those exclamations of satisfaction and delight had nothing to do with the guns on the floor, that Larry’s a deadly shot, or that he’s a big 6’3″ Portugese. It has nothing to do with the fact that he and I were on a book tour together. I don’t read books that don’t grab me. End of story. I stopped doing that long ago. I don’t care who wrote them. And I don’t give false praise. False praise irks me to no end and does nobody any good, especially not the receiver. The truth is that Larry’s book was simply too good to put down. It pulled me in with the opening quote and kept delivering the goods until the end. And if you don’t believe me, you read the quote that both inspiried and opens the book and tell me you don’t want to turn the next page.

    “You know what the difference between me and you really is? You look out there and see a horde of evil, brain-eating zombines. I look out there and see a target-rich environment.” ~Dillis D. Freeman Jr.

    Yeah, it got ya, didn’t it. The ride is waiting folks. Just go on over to Amazon. Correia is going to be a writer to watch.

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  • Good Stuff! Simply Three

    ByJohn Brown

    The joy of music. Pure, unadulterated joy–this is what I recently stumbled across on YouTube.

    I was watching the The Piano Guys and thought I saw something new from them. I clicked, but it wasn’t The Piano Guys. It was Simply Three doing a cover version of the popular “Wake Me Up” by Avicii.

    For those unfamiliar with the term, a “cover” or “cover version” is a reworking, updating, or interpretation of an existing song. And this cover simply blew me away.

    SimplyThreeWakeMeUp

    Simply Three is an electrifying trio made up of cellist Zack Clark, bassist Nicholas Villalobos, and violinist Glen McDaniel, although they have switched in other violinists, including Alex Weill and Olivia Lemmelin. But don’t let the instruments fool you–this isn’t some stuffy classical music gig. And it’s not muzak in the elevator. Not even close.

    They are doing what Lindsey Stirling and The Piano Guys are doing: taking modern songs in wonderful new directions and, in the process, making these classical instruments cool again.

    I went on to watch a number of their other covers, and then I had to purchase the songs because I simply had to be able to listen to their great beats and interpretations on the road.

    Here’s their cover of “Wake Me Up.” The joy Zack Clark (the cellist) exhibits sells the whole thing for me.

    Here is their cover of “Demons” by Imagine Dragons.

    And finally their cover of “Counting Stars” by OneRepublic.

    If you like them, you can get each of these on Amazon for less than a buck with these links:

    Buying them not only supports the artists, but it lets them know there’s a demand for it and encourages them to make more. And I hope they make more.

    ***

    By the way, “Counting Stars” has some interesting lyrics. Ryan Tedder, the songwriter, is a professed Christian. He grew up in a Charismatic household and graduated from Oral Roberts University.

    However, you might look at some of the lyrics and think he’s given all that faith up.

    I feel something so right
    Doing the wrong thing
    I feel something so wrong
    Doing the right thing
    I could lie, could lie, could lie
    Everything that kills me makes me feel alive

    But you need to look at the lyrics in context of the rest of the song and the artist’s statements about the song to see he’s singing about something totally different.

    Some poets, and songwriters are poets (song is where poetry lives these days), think being obscure is cool. Tedder follows that more obscure approach in this song, which is unlike the immediate clarity he put into the lyrics of the fantastic “Halo,” performed by Beyonce, or his own OneRepublic’s “Apologize.”

    Sometimes the artist writing gnomic lyrics doesn’t want to pin down a message for the listener—they think it’s cool for each person to make up their own message (I prefer clarity). Other times they do have a message, but they want the listener to work for it, and so they try to be subtle. Or sometimes they simply goof and don’t realize their lyrics are being so vague.

    I have no idea which path Tedder was trying to take with these lyrics, but I do know that he’s made statements about the song. And these statements give us a guide.

    In an interview with 5280, the Denver magazine (Denver is where Tedder lives) we get the first glimpse.

    At 15, he began writing his own songs. “I obsessed over music and just loved it,” Tedder says. “But I never considered it as a career. Where I grew up you go to high school, you go to college, you find a wife in college, you get married, you have 2.3 kids, and if that hasn’t all happened by the time you’re 24, some people think there’s something wrong with you—or the assumption is that maybe you’re not into the opposite sex.”

    But he couldn’t keep away.

    Back in Oklahoma, at Oral Roberts University, the largest charismatic Christian university in the world, Tedder majored in public relations and advertising. At least that’s what his diploma says. Based on the time he put into sneaking into the Timko-Barton Performance Hall’s piano rooms, he probably could have been a double major. He spent hours on the piano and the guitar deconstructing his favorite albums—like Eric Clapton and B.B. King’s Riding with the King—figuring out the chords and then trying to write new songs using those same chords. He was skipping classes—even meals—to write songs.

    No one knew. Not friends. Not his roommate. He sang in secret. He was in the school choir, but his friends always thought it was odd that a person who didn’t seem overly musically inclined would be taking a singing class. When he was in one of the piano rooms he would tape a piece of notebook paper over the small window in the door so that no one could see him.

    Tedder says there were two reasons he hid his passion. The first was that he believed there were so many bad singers and bad songs in the world that he didn’t want to add to the noise. He wanted to be certain he would be successful before he revealed himself. The second reason was more deep-seated: Being raised in a religious home, Tedder had been taught that there was a purpose for his life, and that because God had ordained that purpose, he should live the life expected of him—one that was pious and humble. “Deciding you want to go into the music business is about the most narcissistic thing in the world,” Tedder says. “I had this constant battle—and to some degree I still do.”

    So Tedder felt “wrong” about songwriting. But he eventually began to see it as his gift to share.

    In an interview with Billboard magazine, we learn that he wants his OneRepublic to sing about different themes than the norm.

    Billboard: Given “Counting Stars”‘ uplifting, faith-based message, it must be gratifying to be connecting with such a meaningful song.

    Tedder: I think it’s our responsibility as a band, and what separates us from everyone else. I took that from being a fan of U2 for two decades now, since “Achtung Baby.” To this day, they might be the only band on that level who sings about things other than just boy-girl troubles or the kind of selfish, “I’m a badass” stuff. I’ve spoken with Bono about this when we toured with him, and he said the same thing. I felt a responsibility to actually write and sing about things that have a level of human gravity to them. If everybody else sings about sex and love and lust and money, then somebody’s gotta be singing about life and faith and hope and things of that nature.

    So if “Counting Stars” isn’t about sex, lust, and money, what’s it about?

    In another interview with Radio.com, he indicated that the whole counting stars bit was for anyone who loses sleep wondering how they’re going to be able to afford their rent or provide for their family. When he was first starting out, things were rough.

    “A lot of time I just lay in bed awake, stressing out,” Tedder said. “Everybody does it. And I just thought, I can’t wait until I’m counting stars and not counting dollars anymore. Things will be so much better.”

    To me, it’s clear that Tedder is singing about his story. And he’s singing for people like him who have a passion, but society says it’s not the practical thing to follow or dedicate your life to. Songwriting is what makes him feel alive. Furthermore, he had flashing signs indicating that if he sought, he would find—in other words, it was the thing God wanted him to do. And he just had to have hope, a four-letter word for those who are practical- and money-minded, and follow that passion.

    We can argue the merits of that follow-your-passion message, but I think we’re all happy Tedder followed his.

    ***

    And while we’re talking about the joy of music, how about this baritone saxophone and drum.

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  • Good Stuff! The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes

    ByJohn Brown

    Alfred Noyes (1880-1958) wrote poetry that thundered and sang. It’s the kind of stuff that begs to be read aloud. And I want to share with you one of my favorites–“The Highwayman.” I love it for the sound, the story, and the awesome images (note all the color).

    All you need to know is that back in the 1600s and 1700s, a highwayman was a robber, often on horseback, who held up travelers. And that when it mentions “priming,” it’s talking about the charge of powder used to ignite a musket.

    For maximum pleasure, let me suggest you start Loreena McKennitt’s killer ballad version I’ve embedded at the end, then scroll back up and read along as she sings.

    THE HIGHWAYMAN
    By Alfred Noyes

    The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees.
    The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.
    The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
    And the highwayman came riding—
    Riding—riding—
    The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

    He’d a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
    A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin.
    They fitted with never a wrinkle. His boots were up to the thigh.
    And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
    His pistol butts a-twinkle,
    His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.

    Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard.
    He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred.
    He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
    But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
    Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
    Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

    And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
    Where Tim the ostler listened. His face was white and peaked.
    His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
    But he loved the landlord’s daughter,
    The landlord’s red-lipped daughter.
    Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—

    “One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I’m after a prize to-night,
    But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
    Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
    Then look for me by moonlight,
    Watch for me by moonlight,
    I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way.”

    He rose upright in the stirrups. He scarce could reach her hand,
    But she loosened her hair in the casement. His face burnt like a brand
    As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
    And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
    (O, sweet black waves in the moonlight!)
    Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.

    He did not come in the dawning. He did not come at noon;
    And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon,
    When the road was a gypsy’s ribbon, looping the purple moor,
    A red-coat troop came marching—
    Marching—marching—
    King George’s men came marching, up to the old inn-door.

    They said no word to the landlord. They drank his ale instead.
    But they gagged his daughter, and bound her, to the foot of her narrow bed.
    Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
    There was death at every window;
    And hell at one dark window;
    For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.

    They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest.
    They had bound a musket beside her, with the muzzle beneath her breast!
    “Now, keep good watch!” and they kissed her. She heard the doomed man say—
    Look for me by moonlight;
    Watch for me by moonlight;
    I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!

    She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!
    She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
    They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years
    Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
    Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
    The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

    The tip of one finger touched it. She strove no more for the rest.
    Up, she stood up to attention, with the muzzle beneath her breast.
    She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;
    For the road lay bare in the moonlight;
    Blank and bare in the moonlight;
    And the blood of her veins, in the moonlight, throbbed to her love’s refrain.

    Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horsehoofs ringing clear;
    Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?
    Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
    The highwayman came riding—
    Riding—riding—
    The red coats looked to their priming! She stood up, straight and still.

    Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!
    Nearer he came and nearer. Her face was like a light.
    Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
    Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
    Her musket shattered the moonlight,
    Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him—with her death.

    He turned. He spurred to the west; he did not know who stood
    Bowed, with her head o’er the musket, drenched with her own blood!
    Not till the dawn he heard it, and his face grew grey to hear
    How Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
    The landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
    Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

    Back, he spurred like a madman, shouting a curse to the sky,
    With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high.
    Blood red were his spurs in the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat;
    When they shot him down on the highway,
    Down like a dog on the highway,
    And he lay in his blood on the highway, with a bunch of lace at his throat.

    . . .

    And still of a winter’s night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
    When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
    When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
    A highwayman comes riding—
    Riding—riding—
    A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

    Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard.
    He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred.
    He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
    But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
    Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
    Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

     

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    Superstars Writing Seminar DVDs

    ByJohn Brown

    Aspiring authors, I wasn’t able to attend, but heard from a few who were that the Superstars Writing Seminar in Pasadena with Eric Flint, Brandon Sanderson, Dave Wolverton, Rebecca Moesta, and Kevin J. Andersen was EXCELLENT. 

    See clips of parts of the videos here (still a lot of good info): http://www.youtube.com/view_play_list?p=2F211054CBD822A8

    Purchase the full recordings on DVD or MP3 here: www.writerscanon.com

    Topics include:

    • Econ 201 for Writers: Economics of Commercial Publishing
    • Inside Editors: How editors look at manuscripts, novels & short fiction
    • Dirty Secrets: What you need to know about being a Professional Author
    • From Slushpile to #1 New York Times Bestseller in 4 Years
    • Intellectual Property: How to Exploit Yours
    • Balancing Acts: Writing World & Real World
    • Agents: the A Word
    • Networking for Writers
    • Self-Promotion for Authors
    • Novel Contracts
    • Self-Publishing: Realities & Pitfalls
    • Pitching the Big Proposal
    • Two Heads Are Better than One: Collaborative Writing
    • New Media: Using It to Get an Edge
    • E-Publishing
    • Movies, TV and Authors
    • Anatomy of a Major Book Release
    • Myths of Publishing
    • Eleven Tips to Increase Your Writing Productivity
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  • What you need as a storyteller

    ByJohn Brown

    Brand-StorytellerOne of the most important things I ever learned about telling stories was in Orson Card’s weeklong boot camp where we “workshopped” stories by doing zero workshopping. Zero critiques. In fact, critiques were verboten.

    Instead, Card asked us to simply provide a report of what he called the three grunts a reader makes when things aren’t working–where it was boring, unclear, or didn’t ring true.

    We were to provide a report of our reader reaction, including parts that really entertained or interested us. NOTHING more.

    He compared it to going to the doctor. We were to report our “symptoms.” The writer’s job was to diagnose if it was an issue and prescribe a remedy, if any.

    Doing that with 19 stories over three days was amazing. It totally opened up what story was about. And taught me what beta reading was all about. One of the most insightful writing experiences I’ve ever had.

    Nowadays when I read, I try my best to simply report. And that’s it. If, afterwards, the writer wants to brainstorm ideas together, that’s fine. But I don’t ever want to diagnose and prescribe because there have been too many books that didn’t work for me that delighted tons of readers. My critique or advice would have been exactly the wrong thing.

    All I can do is report my reaction. And then think about what would have fixed it for me.

    Kristine Rusch recently wrote a great article about this and other things called “Writing by Committee” in which she suggests a list of things authors need to be successful. Give it a read. I think she makes a lot of good points.

    And a few I disagree with. She is quite forceful about writers not acting as first readers. I think that’s bunk. And she says as much in the comments. If a writer can give a reader response instead of a critique, that’s as helpful as a non-writer giving a reader response. I also disagree that you have to toss something and start over if it doesn’t work. If it’s fundamentally broken, sure. But many times a small adjustment gets you back on track.  Finally, yes, a story has to be surprising. At the same time, you had better deliver the type of experience you promise your reader. And that’s all defined by genre. You can’t promise your readers a thriller and deliver a romance. That only leads to irritated readers. I believe you have to consider your audience. But these are all quibbles. The article is great.

    BTW, please note I used “storyteller” in the title. I did that on purpose. More and more, I find I’m not interested in writing. “Writing” doesn’t seem to convey what I’m after. However, I am interested in telling cracking stories.

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  • Good Stuff! Two movies, a book, and a shovel

    ByJohn Brown

    We’re going to start with the shovel because it’s been dumping snow this year, and I know there are some folks out there who want a quicker way to clear the snow from their driveways and walks. And, boy, do I have something for them.

    I think it’s safe to say that the Brown family clears more snow by hand than the average American family. We have a driveway and street that together are a little over a tenth of a mile long. Here’s a picture.

    We clear that lovely stretch of road by hand with shovels. (Yes, we are crazy; more on that below.) Most of the time we have it cleared long before any city plow shows up. But we love our city plows because they can do the heavy work at the edges on the bottom two-thirds. And they do all the work on that bottom part when it gets really heavy and deep. We love our neighbors with tractors who’ve come to our rescue as well.

    Still, we do most of the clearing.

    We began our mad shoveling craze for one simple reason: we couldn’t get to our house when it snowed. And it was a pain in the neck to hike that tenth of a mile.

    Part of the problem is that we live on a hill, and there are a couple of steep stretches. Another part of the problem was that we had not availed ourselves of this higher technology called snow tires. We thought all-weather tires would do just as fine.

    Wrong. Big wrong. They don’t even come close.

    With all-weathers, on a hill, you have to keep the road clear. As in to the blacktop. Because once you build up even a small layer of snow, you’ll get slick patches, and then the all-weathers do nothing but spin.

    But we didn’t discover that until a few years into it. And by that time, we’d learned that shoveling such a long drive was not only good exercise, but it also was a great way to teach our four girls how to work hard and not fear projects that seemed daunting.

    I know some of you are thinking, dude, why not purchase a snow blower, or a pickup or four-wheeler with a plow?

    Because snow blowers at the time, much less four wheelers and pickups, were out of our budget. Because I’d much rather spend the money on a family trip somewhere fun. Because why spend the money when you can line up as a family and create your own Brown Family Snow Blade and give your kids stories to tell their kids about living in the Gulag?

    Anyway, it’s what we do. Fast forward now to this year. Three of our daughters have grown up and gone off to college. Nellie, my youngest daughter, and I can usually still get it done. But this year’s record snows kicked our butts. Royally.

    Now, we’ve tried all sorts of shovels. I can guarantee, if it was at a store for sale, we’ve tried it. We’ve used brooms. We’ve used all sorts of configurations of girl, woman, and dad power. After all that experimentation, we found a standard push shovel to be the best for general snow and a square garden shovel to be the ticket for ice. But this year our trusty tools weren’t cutting it.

    So, after one long day on the driveway, I went on line looking for a better shovel. And after looking at quite several contraptions, I found The Snowcaster.

    You can see it in action below. It’s basically a plow. One made for a human to push.

    When I saw it, I thought this thing had to be better than pushing shovels. So I ordered it and assembled it. The curved blade of incredibly hard plastic rises 9 inches above the ground and is three feet long. Its nifty design allows you to simply flip it to change the direction of the blade.

    After using it these last six weeks on multiple snows of everything from ten inches of powder to three inches of watery slush, I will simply say that it’s amazing. It’s so good, I ordered a second unit.

    The Snowcaster does have a limit—you’re not going to plow three-feet of snow with it. You’re not going to plow a build-up of two feet. If you’ve got a lot of wet snow over a large area, you will break a sweat. And sometimes you’ll still need a shovel to toss snow at the edges. But for moving large quantities of snow out of the way on asphalt or concrete, it’s the best thing I’ve found to date.

    If you are like me and don’t want to purchase a machine just yet, have snow to move, and want to dramatically reduce the time it takes to move it while providing some fun for the kids, I think you’ll love The Snowcaster. I ordered mine directly from the company here: https://thesnowcaster.com/. The model I chose was the 70SNC. I wouldn’t suggest the long model unless you rarely get snows above three inches. I say this because on some days with lots of snow the three-footer was about all I could push.

    Okay, onto the movies. I have two excellent ones to recommend. Both of which are based on true-life events.

    The first is Denial, a British-American historical drama, that tells the story of how Deborah Lipstadt, a holocaust scholar, was taken to court for libel in Britain by David Irving, a man who claims the Holocaust never happened. In America, you’re always innocent until proven guilty. However, in Britain, with libel, the burden of proof is upon the defendant. So how do you prove you weren’t slandering someone? The movie was thrilling and fascinating. And gave you something to think about afterwards. If you enjoyed Woman in Gold, you’ll enjoy this.

    The next is Hidden Figures, an American biographical drama, that tells the story of female African-American mathematicians at NASA. These women were employed as computers—that was their official job title. Of course, this was before electrical computers and calculators, and what they did amazes me. The story is about the USA struggling to catch up to the Russians in the space race, and how four of these women helped while dealing with deep-seated prejudice against Blacks and females. It is full of humor, poignant moments, and surprises. It’s one of the best films I’ve seen these last few years. I don’t know what to compare it to. All I know is that you will laugh, be amazed, become outraged, and cheer.

    Lt. General Michael T. Flynn. Flynn is a former director of the Defense Intelligence Agency and Assistant Director of National Intelligence and is now our National Security Advisor. If you want to understand how he is likely to advise the president about our war against radical Islam, let me recommend his book The Field of Fight. In the book, Flynn describes his background as an intelligence officer and how critical good intelligence is in this fight. He then describes his take on who the radical Islamist enemy is and how he thinks we can win the war against them. He shares several surprising insights that only someone with his experience can and reveals as well how good and smart leaders can disagree about strategy. One of his main points is that we will never win the war by killing bodies—this is an ideological war, much like the war we fought against communism. For those wanting to get past news blurbs and hear the man speak for himself at length, I think you’ll find this book interesting.

    And because, Dear Reader, you read all the way to the end, I will give you two more movie recommendations. Moana is a great, fun, family film. La La Land is an enjoyable musical romance that will probably break your heart. It did mine.

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5 Comments

  1. Loved that you mentioned the marines. I was in for almost three years and while it felt just like any other job when I was in; Now I look back and have some great memories. I was able to go to Europe and Tunisia while I was on deployment and also did a 12 day peace-keeping mission in Kosovo. When you finish your thriller that your doing the research for, I just might have to pick that one up to.

  2. Hey, I’m going to need some folks to vet it for accuracy. Just saying 😉 The Marines rock. And thanks for your service.

  3. Thanks and i’ll keep that in mind. I don’t think i’ve read a thriller in years since Ludlum’s The Tristan Betrayal about 4-5 years ago. I’m going to have to check out those clips on youtube one of these days.

  4. Anthony, try THE GOOD GUY by Dean Koontz. I think you’ll like it a lot.

  5. Ok I’ll check it out. I loved The Taking and finished Breathless, which I thought was interesting.

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