Monday, December 31, 2018

Just One Thing


Well, here we are on the last day of 2018. The end of another year. As usual, it has flown by. In less than twenty-four hours, it will be 2019.

I’ve listened to the usual year-end examination of events—the year in retrospect, listened to the routine New Year’s predictions; the fears and concerns of what a new year will bring. Everything from politics to entertainment to security and health, even our culture will be impacted they say.

I find that for the most part, New Year’s predictions are, well, predictable. There are always those who think the world will end and there are those who say the world will be much better. Most people tend to fall somewhere in the middle, in that, they believe things will improve on some levels and on other levels things will worsen.

I can’t really predict the future but I don’t think all that much will change. Not drastically anyway, or all at once. The world is constantly changing and nothing stays the same but that change is gradual. The change takes time. I’m not sure that simply the advent of a new year really has much bearing on it. Except for one thing.

There is one thing that will immediately and noticeably change. One big change. And it will affect everyone. So, what is the one change?

The answer is a simple matter of addition; the eight in our year will become a nine. 2018 will be 2019—a difference of... one. That’s the one change I predict. ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million.

Monday, December 24, 2018

That Time Of Year Again


The time I’ve waited for has arrived! And no, I’m not talking about Christmas. And not the New Year either. What I’m referring to is that the days are getting longer! Not really noticeable yet, I admit, but still longer. Being that I’m a nocturnal creature and wake up when darkness falls you’d think I’d be happy with longer nights. But there’s something deeply depressing about it getting dark at 4:30 in the afternoon.

Back when I worked a normal job, with normal hours, I rarely saw my house in the daylight during the winter months—until the weekend. I’d leave in the dark and get home in the dark. Ugh! These days, I do get to see my house during the day but that doesn’t seem to take away the gloomy feeling early darkness brings. I always get the feeling that I’ve been short-changed; that I’ve been cheated out of a full day. And of course, it also affects how much I can get done outside, which leads to frustration.

And that’s why I look forward to the days getting longer. Don’t worry, I still stay up half of the night—or more, ’cause there’s plenty of things to do inside as well, and there’s that nocturnal part of me to consider—but I don’t have the sense that I’m being ripped off and robbed of my daylight hours. And though the time gained is negligible at this point, at least things are moving in the right direction and that always puts me in a better mood.

But six months from now, even though summer (my favorite time of the year) will by then be in full swing, I’ll start feeling a little bummed—because the days will be getting shorter. And again, I’ll be wishing away my life, looking forward to December 21st! ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million.

Monday, December 17, 2018

The Gift Of Irony

The Christmas shopping is all done. And with more than a week to spare! All the presents for the kids, the grandkids, and everybody else have been wrapped; we’re just waiting on Christmas. I think this is the earliest we’ve ever gotten it all done. And it’s actually kind of a good feeling. No braving the crowded stores for that last minute gift, or gifts, as is usually the case; we’re all set!

Or, so I thought. It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn’t purchased anything for my wife. Not to worry though, it shouldn’t be too hard to remedy. Several years ago, we decided that instead of spending a lot of money on each other, we’d focus on the kids—and now it’s the grandkids. But that being said, we still do get a small gift for each other; a token gift. Something that says “We don’t need to go broke to tell each other Merry Christmas!”

So, apparently, I’ll be heading back to the store tomorrow. I can’t wait much longer or I’ll be wading through the masses just to find a candy bar or something. Okay, I might actually get something more than a candy bar, I suppose. Although... I’m sure my wife would appreciate the chocolate! And truth be told, it wouldn’t be the first time I gift-wrapped a chocolate bar for her. But that was long ago—when we got more than just a token gift.

Now for the ironic part: When I confessed to my wife that I hadn’t remembered to get her a gift, she said that she hadn’t gotten me one either. So while the purpose of our token gift is symbolic and meant to say “I’m thinking of you,” I guess we really weren’t. Hmm, we may need to purchase bigger gifts this year! So much for the Christmas shopping being done! ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. 

Sunday, December 9, 2018

Old Puzzler

This past week my wife’s parents were visiting from Wisconsin. It was nice to have them here, especially since I hadn’t seen them in a while. Throughout the week, we also had other visitors; my kids and their families came by, as did my parents.

One night when everyone was here, several of us were putting a puzzle together. Some of the grandkids were helping—well, one said he was helping but what he actually was doing was taking the pieces apart and then reassembling them. But at least it kept him occupied!

One of the other grandkids was just watching. I asked if he wanted to help and he said no. I said okay. But he still stood there watching. A few minutes later, I again asked if he wanted to help. Again, he said no. But this time he explained his reasoning.

“Putting puzzles together is for old people,” he said.

I laughed, noticing it was mostly the adults who were working on the puzzle. But then I pointed to the other side of the table where his brother was busy finding where pieces fit. “He is not old.”

“He’s just practicing so when he gets old he knows how to do puzzles.”

Well, I couldn’t really argue with that. I think that’s what we all did; started when we were young and now that we’re “old” we’re using what we learned. And not just with puzzles. I’m pretty sure that’s how most things work.

After thinking about it, I told him that I was doing the same thing—practicing for when I get old. He said, “Grandpa, you don’t need any more practice.”

I guess he could have meant I’m very good at puzzles but I think it was just a nice way of saying I’m already old! ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. 

Monday, December 3, 2018

Home For The Holidays

It’s that time of year again. Christmas music is playing in stores. My neighbors have begun decorating, stringing lights, uprooting (or maybe cutting) trees and dragging them into their houses, and shopping is becoming next to impossible due to the sudden influx of Christmas shoppers.

It’s the time of year when I like to stay home. Just avoid the whole mess of crowded streets and parking lots as well as the hoards of people. Yet, in spite of my misgivings, I find myself needing things and end up heading to the store. And then wonder why I did.

This past week I waited in line for what seemed like half an hour. It probably wasn’t that long but as a guy who is always in a hurry, wasting time in a checkout line is a little annoying. Especially when it’s unnecessary. When it was finally my turn to checkout, the cashier asked if I’d found everything okay.

“No, I haven’t found my way home yet,” I said.

The response I got was rather interesting. “Do you need help finding your house?” the lady asked with a look of concerned pity.

Wondering how the lady planned to help me when she didn’t know where I lived, I shook my head. “Just need to get out of this crowded store and I’ll be fine,” I told her.

Again she gave me a strange look, sort of frowning at what I had in my hand. I didn’t know the reason until I looked down at my hands.

While in line, I’d been messing with my phone and somehow had turned on the flashlight. As it was late in the afternoon and dark outside, I guess the lady thought I really was having a hard time finding my way home. Or maybe she just thought I suffered from dementia, I don’t know.

I paid for my items and headed to the door. I noticed the lady still watching me so just to give her something to worry about; I paused in the doorway and turned my flashlight back on. As I left, the song blaring from the speakers was I’ll Be Home For Christmas. Hopefully, I thought. As long as I can find my way with this flashlight! ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. 

Sunday, November 25, 2018

Maybe Next Time I’ll Wait For Spring

November is a cold month. At least where I live. It’s snowy with freezing rain and lots of wind. It’s not the time of year I’d typically think of building anything outside. Usually. But this year has been different. We’ve had decent weather; no snow, no wind, and a generous amount of sunshine. And that got me to thinking.

I’ve been wanting to add on to my shed for quite a while now and since I had some free time, and the weather was cooperating, I finally decided to do. At first, I thought maybe I’d just get the foundation poured and wait until Spring to finish the project. But that’s just not me. Once I start something, I’m sort of obsessed with getting it done. Besides, the sun was still shining! So, I kept working. Figured I’d get as far as I could before the snow started flying. Built the walls, the rafters, put a roof on it, added the siding and trim, installed a door, and even painted the whole thing. Later today, I’ll be pouring the concrete step to finish it off.

I’m still sort of surprised I was able to get everything done; it’s now almost December. And still, no snow, no wind. But while the overall weather was great for this time of year, it is getting awfully close to winter. And that means shorter days, which translates to getting up earlier in order to have daylight. And even though temperatures have been in the fifties during the day, mornings are another story. For the first couple of hours each day, I thought I’d freeze. I had to work hard just to stay warm! But I guess I should have expected that. After all, it is late November, and November is a cold month. ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. 

Sunday, November 18, 2018

Respect


So, I went to pick up my five-year-old grandson from Daycare last week. I’d like to say he was happy to see me but the truth is he’d rather Grandma pick him up. But she had the misfortune of having a dental visit. He did seem okay with me being there since Grandma was busy. As he put it, having me pick him up was better than just staying there all night. Nice to know I’m appreciated! But, I’ll take whatever I can get.

My diluted triumph was short lived, however. As soon as he got in, he started giving me the third degree. I probably should note that over the last few weeks I’ve been working, building things—fences, decks, pouring concrete, etc.—and my pickup was showing the signs. I’ve been carrying a lot of tools inside so there was a bit of sawdust, regular dust, and other clutter—in the seats and on the floor.

“Grandpa, you have no respect,” he began.

“Why?” (Never ask a five-year-old a question if you don’t want a long and extended answer).

“You have no respect for your truck,” he said. “You should respect your truck by keeping it clean. If you leave it dirty, it shows you have no respect at all.” He wasn’t done yet. “And if people see that you have no respect for your vehicle, they’ll have no respect for you. So, you really need to clean the inside, and probably wash it too.”

Okay then! I explained that I’d been busy working and hadn’t had a chance to clean the pickup. My excuses fell on deaf ears. When we arrived at the house, as he got out, he gave me quite a displeased look, pointing to the mess. “You know what you need to do,” was all he said.

As you can imagine, I did clean the truck—the next day. When he returned later in the week, I showed him my handiwork. I guess I thought he’d be excited or at least say good job or something. But no. What he did say was, “Now keep it that way!”

I can’t say he’s wrong or that I shouldn’t heed his advice. But I think in a few years, when the kid starts driving, I’m going to show him this blog post. ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million.

 

Monday, November 12, 2018

Borders Bakery

My wife and daughters have a yearly tradition—a day of baking for the upcoming holidays. They’ve been doing this for ten or twelve years, maybe longer. They call it Cookie Day but it’s not limited to just cookies. They make a lot of treats: chocolatey, caramely, gooey goodies.

At least this is what I’ve been told. I’m never home for Cookie Day so I’m not really sure what they do. For all I know they could go to the store and purchase the ready made delectable confections and then sit around and visit. All I know is when I get home there are platefuls of cookies, candy, and other sweets.

As you can imagine, I look forward to Cookie Day. (Not that I really need all the sweets but I’ve never let that stop me before). This year, Cookie Day is today. Yay!

But this year, there is an added bonus—I’ll be home! First time ever; home for Cookie Day. No waiting until they’re all done to get my sugar fix. And though I doubt they’ll want my help in the baking, I might be allowed to taste test a few things. That is, if they actually DO make this stuff themselves. Guess I’ll find out a little later! ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. 


Tuesday, November 6, 2018

Investing Made Easy

Let’s face it, not everyone can be Warren Buffet, investor extraordinaire. First, most people do not have that kind of money. Many Americans live paycheck to paycheck. And most people do not have that kind of time. We’re busy. We work a job, have things to take care of at home, and that leaves very little time to pay attention to things such as investing.

Traditionally, investing required a fairly large sum of cash to get started. Then there were broker fees, and other costs. The average working person could not realistically afford to invest in the stock market. For those who were able, the learning curve was somewhat daunting. And learning, along with its setbacks, is not all that enticing when it’s costing you your own money. Money that could have been spent on necessities like food and rent.




But times have changed. In 2014, Walter and Jeff Cruttenden launched Acorns, an investment app for mobile devices, making investing accessible to everyone. The following year, the web-based version was introduced. Acorns makes investing painless because you are only investing a few cents at a time and they’ve taken all the guesswork out of the equation. From their website: “Acorns simplified the often tedious and complex process of investing. But that doesn’t mean the investment strategy is any less sophisticated.”

“Our mission is to look after the financial best interests of the up-and-coming, beginning with the empowering step of micro-investing.”
 So, what exactly is Acorns?

Acorns is a legitimate and reputable financial service that makes investing simple and affordable for anyone. Acorns is the only micro-investing account that allows you to invest spare change. Set up in under 5 minutes and automatically add money to your diversified portfolio. Acorns offers a user-friendly platform and is rated the number one investment app for new investors.


How does Acorns work?

There are many methods of investing with Acorns but the easiest is their one-of-a-kind Round-ups. When you link a credit or debit card to your Acorns Core account, they track your transactions, round up the purchase to the next dollar, and invest that amount. For example: If you spend $9.56 on breakfast, Acorns would deduct .44 from your bank account and add that to your Acorns Investment account. You choose from one of five pre-built “smart portfolios,” ranging from conservative to aggressive. If you’d like to invest more you can easily do so by taking advantage of the multiplier selection. Simply set your desired multiplier and automatically invest the round-up amount multiplied by 2, 3, or 10.


So, how much does Acorns cost?

After the first month, which is free, Acorns charges $1.00 per month until your account value reaches $1 million. Since we’re talking spare change, the first few months, with an account of less than $100, that fee may seem a little high but keep in mind that as your investments grow, the fee does not. So, years from now when your spare change has turned into a few thousand, the monthly fee will remain just $1.00 for the basic plan, known as Acorns Core. They also offer $2 and 3$ monthly plans.


Acorns Core at the $1/month level is free for college students.

If you’re in college Acorns just got better! The basic plan, Acorns Core, is FREE for college students. You pay nothing as long as you’re enrolled in college. In other words, there’s nothing to lose.




 Before writing this blog post, I wanted to give Acorns a try. I signed up in less than five minutes and after answering a few questions to set up my profile had a couple of debit cards linked. Within a week, my account was growing. That was four months ago and my investment is now worth over $150. Big deal, right? What good is $150? Well, for starters, that’s from only round-ups—money I didn’t even miss. In a year, if I continue on the same pace, that will be $450. And that doesn’t account for gains on the investment. Currently I’m getting a return of 11%. That’s an outstanding percent. I have other investments that do not perform nearly as well.

When setting up my account, I chose a conservative investment portfolio with very little risk. I like Acorns system of “Smart Portfolios” because it means I do not have to pick which companies I invest in, Acorns does all the work. That means I do not have to do hours of research to find a stock. I simply linked my debit cards and that was it.

And if I should ever find myself in a financial jam, and need my money, it is available for instant withdraw to my bank account with no penalty. This alone makes it a far better option than CD’s or many investment firms.

Acorns offers a unique solution to overcoming the mental barrier: ‘I just don’t have enough money to be investing.’
Acorns really is investing made simple. Invest as little or as much as you want. Click on the link below to get started.



Questions? Visit Acorns.com

Monday, November 5, 2018

Speed Reading


For the last couple of months, I’ve been teaching my grandson to read. I’d promised him I’d teach him but was stalling until he was interested enough to pay attention. But when he grew tired of waiting and started trying to teach himself, I figured he was ready. So, we started the lessons.

It was a little slow going at first, introducing him to all the letters and sounds but he has a very good memory so things started falling into place. He was doing well and every few days I’d add another letter—or two.

After a month or so, we were progressing well. Or, so I thought. Then I overheard him tell his Grandma that “Grandpa is a good teacher; he’s just really slow.”

“What do you mean I’m slow?” I asked, pretending I was offended.

Unfazed, and with a roll of his eyes, he said, “We’ve had a LOT of lessons and I still can’t read.”

Somehow, he’d gotten the idea that I was supposed to just tell him all the rules and he’d instantly be able to read.

I tried explaining that it would take a while; that there were a lot of letters and a lot of rules.

“And it’s too hard for you to remember all of them at once?” he asked.

Sure, that’s it.

The child has since had a birthday and as he tells me at almost every lesson, he’s now five. The significance of that is, as he makes sure I know, I’ve been teaching him since he was four and in his mind, that’s a whole year. And still, he can’t read.

Except he can—a little. Of course, that’s not good enough. He wants to be able to read books and everything else. I’ve assured he’ll get there—eventually. Although, eventually would come much sooner if Grandpa wasn’t so slow! ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million.

Monday, October 29, 2018

Not Out Of The Woods Yet


This past weekend, I had an opportunity to help my brother cut down a few trees. We spent most of the day on Saturday cutting, de-limbing, and cleaning up the mess—well, part of the mess, there’s still more to do. And more trees to cut.

I used to do things like this quite frequently and with no lasting effects. My dad and I used to spend a lot of days cutting and hauling wood—and most of the time, due to fire restrictions we couldn’t even use a chainsaw. Never seemed to bother me. But that was before I’d spent nearly a quarter of a century driving a truck. Truck driving, while somewhat stressful at times, can’t really be considered work. Not manual labor type work anyway. Needless to say—but as always, I’m going to say it anyway—I’m a little out of shape when it comes to actual work.

But, I’m too stubborn to let that get in the way. It just isn’t in my nature to NOT do something. Besides, I couldn’t very well let my brother do all the work. I guess I could, but that would kind of defeat the purpose of going to help him.

So after a long day of real work, when I arrived home, my wife asked me how my day went. I was ready with an answer. “This stuff was a lot easier in my twenties.”

She laughed and agreed that it probably was. She was nice though, and didn’t say that perhaps if I did this kind of work more often it wouldn’t be so hard on me. Although when I mentioned it, she seemed to agree with that also. And that’s why next Saturday, I’ll probably be going back for more punishment—or, work as it’s also known. ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million.

Monday, October 22, 2018

If I Could Only Fly

When I was a kid, maybe three or four years old, I used to wish I could fly. I saw how effortlessly birds flew and thought if they could do it then so could I. My parents told me I wasn’t a bird and could not fly so don’t try it. But, of course, I didn’t believe them. I wasn’t dumb enough to jump off a tall building or anything; I limited my attempts, my experiments, to leaping off porches and flapping my arms. As it turned out, my parents were right, I couldn’t fly, and I eventually gave up on the idea.

Last week, I spent a few days rebuilding a deck. This was a multi-level deck with stairs and railings—you know, the fun kind to work on! I’m not being facetious, I really do like doing carpenter work, and adding a little complexity to the equation just makes it better.

Part of the refurbishing included taking out the stairs, then rebuilding and relocating them. But first, I planned on using them to get everything to the upper portion of the deck. Once that part was mostly finished, I tore down the steps.

So, there I was, in the middle of the project, immersed in my work, and everything was going as planned. The old staircase was gone but having a bit of work left on the upper deck, I climbed up to finish it off. Then standing up, with my back to the steps—or where the steps used to be—I turned to head down. By the time I saw the empty space—and the big drop to the lower level—I was already committed. So, I just jumped.

Guess what? I still can’t fly! But the good news is, at age 51, I’m still able to jump off a deck, land on both feet, and not break anything in the process! ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. 

Sunday, October 14, 2018

Wait Just A Minute (Or Longer)

Spent two fun-filled days at Disneyland last week. It’s been a few years since my last visit and it was good to see that the place hasn’t changed much. They still have many of the same rides and attractions they always did. Still the same music playing, the same food, and the same aura of “The happiest place on Earth.” Unfortunately, there are also the same long lines as before. I think that’s the number one activity in any Disney theme park, standing in line. Or, maybe it’s walking.

According to my phone, I walked an average of twelve miles per day. Not that that’s bad, I could use the exercise. But still, that’s a lot of walking. I think perhaps they should install conveyors like the airports have. The conveyors could take everyone directly to the next attraction or, across the park.

Of course, since it’s Disney, the conveyors would have to be theme based with a realistic decor so they wouldn’t look so much like a conveyor. And maybe they could make them go faster—you know, make the conveyors fun, almost like a ride. But then, everyone would want to use them and there’d probably be a line.

I know; they’ll never implement such an idea. The large open areas and sprawling walkways, filled with throngs of people are there by design. This system forces people to walk past all the vendors, shops, and games, which entices them to spend money. It also helps to keep the people spread out through the park so as to decrease the number of thrill seekers waiting in line at the rides.

Of course, they could always add more rides; that too, would decrease the number of people standing in each of the other lines. But then that produces a conundrum. The shorter lines (and less waiting) would probably sell more tickets, which would mean more customers—and that would lead to longer lines. So, I guess it’s a catch-22.

On second thought, maybe I should let Disney worry about managing the operations of their parks. I’ll just stay home—where I don’t have to walk twelve miles every day and there are no lines in which to waste time waiting. ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. 

Monday, October 8, 2018

Just Following The Rules


Home alone. Again. My wife, as she is prone to do, has left me. Not permanently—at least I don’t think so. I guess it remains to be seen though. Supposedly, she’s coming home today after a long weekend for a short vacation.

For now, it’s just the dogs and me. But they’re good company. Kind of. They seem to think it’s my fault their favorite person isn’t here. They’re sort of like my grandchildren who make no bones about it; they like Grandma better. But that’s okay, at least they like me! But as one of them recently told me, “I miss you when you’re gone and I’m a little sad but actually, I don’t like you as much.” Translation: It’s hard to compete with Grandma! I know how he feels. I’m rather fond of his grandma too. And no one can compete with her.

When this same grandchild visited this past Saturday, he was very disappointed that Grandma wasn’t home. And, he informed me that he was very sorry but he would not be visiting again until she was back. “It’s just not the same,” he said.

When I suggested I could come visit him, he shook his head. “Not if you don’t bring Grandma.”

“What if I just show up without her?”

He gave me a frown. “Grandpa,” he said sternly, “You don’t make the rules.”

So apparently, according to the “rules,” I’m not allowed to have visitors or visit anyone. And now you know why I’m home alone. ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million.

Monday, October 1, 2018

Free Of Charge


Ever notice how many things are run by batteries these days? Phones, cameras, power tools, doorbells, and; all these gadgets and more, have batteries. And I didn’t even mention all the toys that depend on battery power. Then of course, our cars use batteries too. Almost anything, that does anything, runs on a battery. But this is good because it allows for mobility—and in today’s world, we all need to be mobile.

The problem comes in when these many batteries continually run down. And we go searching for a charger. We charge up the batteries and all is fine. But in a (too) short amount of time, the batteries are low again. And so, we are locked in a constant state of recharge. An infinite loop.

I’m not sure about the rest of you but I get pretty tired of every device I own always needing to be charged. I know, if I’d just stop using them so much they wouldn’t require charging quite so often. But that’s not likely to happen—for me or anyone else. We’ve all grown accustomed to using our little gadgets. But always looking for a charger or taking the time required to charge things can be a little annoying. I think it’s time to come up with a better way.

I said all that to say this: The other night I needed to make a call and I wasn’t sure how long the call would last; possibly a half an hour or so, I was thinking. My phone’s battery was low so I thought I give it a few minutes to charge before making the call because I like to be mobile. I have a habit of roaming while on the phone. Back in the day before cell phones, I used to have a twenty-foot cord on my phone so I wasn’t tethered to one spot while talking.

I gave it about ten minutes while I did a few other things, and then went to see how much battery power I had—and it hadn’t changed. The phone hadn’t charged at all. That’s when my wife pointed out that the charger wasn’t plugged in to the wall. She was rather amused I think. Me, not so much.

I did get to make the call—eventually. And as it turns out, it took only about four minutes; I wouldn’t have even had to charge the phone at all. Not until later anyway.

Oh, and one more thing. You may be wondering why the charger was unplugged. Well, that would be due to my wife needing the outlet—to charge her tablet. ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million.

Monday, September 24, 2018

On This Day In 1988


September 24th. I’m feeling a little nostalgic today. That’s just a fancy way of saying, I feel old. And a bit puzzled.

I’m trying hard to figure out how it’s possible that thirty years have passed since the birth of my oldest daughter. Thirty years since my wife and I became parents. Thirty years that seem nothing more than a blur. Not that I don’t remember the day. I do. Very clearly.

I recall every little detail: the car ride to the hospital, the nurses and doctors, the room my wife was in, the monitors being set up, and of course, the actual birth; seeing our baby, hearing her cry, holding her, feeling her heartbeat and her breathing. Then there was the calling of everyone for the birth announcement, the visitors, and the excitement. I remember it all.

The problem is all of the years between then and now. That’s what seems like a blur. Sure, I can recall specific incidents, certain days here and there. A lot of them actually. But over all, the years have just gone by almost unnoticed. And that’s sort of sad, and the reason I’m feeling nostalgic—I’m trying to remember as much of the thirty years as I can.

But it seems the life that used to be, somehow got lost in yesterday. Somehow, my baby went from being a newborn to an adult, married with kids of her own—almost in the blink of an eye. And my thirty years of memories are condensed into little snippets, all jammed together.

I guess what I’m trying to say is thirty years should have taken a lot longer than it did. I should have more memories to show for that amount of time. Seems like there should at least be thirty years’ worth. But then, what do I know? I’m just the guy who can’t remember much. ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million.

Monday, September 17, 2018

To Make A Short Story Long


Dishes. I don’t like dishes. Wait, that’s not true. I do like dishes, especially when they have food on them. What I don’t like is DOING the dishes. That’s not all that uncommon, I realize. I’m guessing there are very few people who actually enjoy doing dishes.

Thing is, we have a dishwasher; load, add soap, turn on. That’s it. Not difficult. Doesn’t even take much time. And I still don’t like doing the dishes.

Maybe it’s because, like other household chores such as: laundry, dusting, or cleaning the floors, it’s a never ending job. Dishes at my house seem to multiply on their own. Dirty dishes anyway. But clean dishes are a problem too. The clean ones are always in the dishwasher, waiting to be put away, which usually gets done about two minutes before loading it with the next load.

With only two people in the house, you’d think that wouldn’t be very often. You’d be wrong. Between my wife and I, we ran three loads of dishes this weekend. Yep, three loads for two people, in two days. The last load just finished washing—or drying, to be more accurate—and already there are more dishes in the sink, waiting to be washed.

I guess I just don’t understand how two people can mess up that many dishes. I’d like to blame it on visiting grandkids or something but it seems to happen even when they haven’t been here. It’s like the dishes climb out of the cabinet of their own accord, somehow get remnants of food stuck to their surface, and then jump into the sink. I’m fairly well convinced we could go on vacation for a month and every dish we own would be piled in the sink when we returned home.

We’ve tried paper plates and plasticware. We’ve tried eating out. Our dishes didn’t notice; just redoubled their efforts. It would seem then, the only way to win this battle is to get ride of the dishes. Having no dishes means nothing to wash—ever. Brilliant idea, I think. And in fact, I’m already working on it.

Side note: My wife says I like to ramble a lot when I write. “Just get to the point,” she says. Okay. I will. But I still think my so-called rambling makes a far better story than simply writing, “I broke a glass the other day.” ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million.

Monday, September 10, 2018

A Whole New Ball Game

I did something this past weekend that I’ve never done before; I attended a soccer game. Probably not anything new for some of you but I’m more of a football kind of guy. I’ve never had an occasion, or reason, to go to a soccer game. Not only that, I’ve never even played soccer.

Although I was involved in many sports in school, and after; not only football, but basketball, baseball, track, volleyball, tennis, and even golf, (I know, to categorize some of those as a sport is a little presumptuous) back in my day, soccer was not even on the list of possibilities. Sure, the school did have soccer balls but we used them to play kickball or dodgeball, sometimes basketball, but never soccer.

But the world has changed. These days soccer is one of the most popular sporting activities for kids—or so I’m told. I’m not exactly a kid anymore so I have no firsthand knowledge on the matter. But my grandson is, a kid that is. And this weekend was his first soccer game. And that’s why I found myself attending a soccer game for the first time in my life.

It was interesting, and it looked like they were having fun. Still, the game seems a little foreign to me. I kept thinking the kids would probably have a lot better time if I gave them a football!

Okay, if I’m being honest, which I am, they didn’t really need a football. They all seemed to be enjoying the game, as did the spectators, including me. But there was one major problem; they don’t keep score. How are we supposed to know who won the game? I know, they’re just kids but I’m from that by-gone era when we didn’t sugarcoat everything; didn’t try to coddle kids, or worry about damaging their self esteem—and we certainly didn’t equate losing with winning. There is definitely a difference. Is it fun to be on the losing team? The answer, obviously, is no, it’s not. But losing does tend to make everyone try harder the next time. Because everyone, including kids, wants to win. If there’s no chance of winning, then why try? Why play the game?

Okay, enough of my ranting. As I’m sure you’ve guessed, just because they (the proverbial “they” from the Land of Anonymity) don’t keep score, doesn’t mean I don’t. I do. And did. And my grandson’s team won!

And just so you know, I successfully refrained from yelling “Touchdown!” for the entirety of the game! ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. 

Sunday, September 2, 2018

Just In Time For Winter


About seven weeks ago, right in the dead of summer, the air conditioner on my pickup stopped working. The air conditioner itself was fine but the temperature control couldn't be adjusted. And of course, it wasn't stuck on the cool setting.

Normally, a non-working air conditioner wouldn't be much of a problem; I don't use it much anyway. But, I'm not really fond of heat blowing out of the vents either - not when the outside temps are in the triple digits.

Trouble is, I was busy. So, I didn't fix it. For seven weeks I've been driving with heat blasting on me. Even with the windows down, it was quite warm! 

I finally got around to working on the pickup this past weekend. The job took about an hour and a half - to take the dash apart, diagnose the problem, devise a way to fix it, and put it all back together. And yes, in case you're wondering, it works!

No more driving around sweating! Or feeling faint! But then, it's now September and the need for air conditioning is quickly fading. Soon I'll be needing heat instead!

Still, I'm glad the air conditioning is working again; I might want to use it - next summer!  ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million.

Monday, August 27, 2018

Does This Kind Of Thing Happen To Anyone Else?


After a long day of working, manual labor, which as a truck driver I’m not used to, I came home looking forward to relaxing for the evening. But, having no soda pop in the house (I know, that’s like a cardinal sin) I journeyed to the grocery store. All I wanted was to get some pop and return home. But, of course, things are never quite that easy.

I put a carton of Dr. Pepper and one of Sprite in the cart. The price on the shelf said they were on sale for $4.99. Yet, at the register, both rang up for $6.99. This is nothing new, at least for me. Price discrepancy is a regular thing when I go shopping. I used to think it was due to incompetence but then one day I realized the discrepancy is hardly ever in my favor. So, the only logical explanation is that the store advertises a lower price than they charge, hoping no one will notice. But since it happens a lot, and I pay attention to these sort of things, I do notice. Usually. And I did this time. As you might imagine, I don’t really have a lot of patience in these instances, although I usually do start with at least a smidgen.

When I tactfully (I think it was tactful, but I was a little tired) pointed out that I was being overcharged, the cashier politely informed me that I needed to buy two cartons in order to get that price. Almost as politely, I said the price on the shelf didn’t say anything about buying two, just that the price was $4.99.

The cashier, with her politeness ebbing somewhat, grabbed the newspaper and flipped to the page where it showed an in-store ad for Coke and Pepsi products (a single ad listing both). The 24-packs were on sale for $4.99, and it did say, Must Buy Two but then next to that it said Mix and Match.

I’m pretty sure all the politeness was gone from my voice when I slowly pointed to the items in my cart, “One, two.”

Thinking she’d realize that one plus one does indeed equal two, I was a little surprised when she asked, “Is Sprite a Coke or Pepsi product?”

“Not that it matters, since it says mix and match,” I said, “but Sprite is a product of the Coca-Cola Company.” Then, not being able to resist, I ran my finger along the words on the top of the carton, the words that read, “a Product of the Coca-Cola Company.”

“Oh,” the lady says, as if it was the first time she’d heard of such a thing.

There was no time for feeling smug though, since I knew what was coming next.

“And is Dr. Pepper a Coke product?”

Remember how I started this post? I’d had a long day and just wanted to get something to drink and go home. Instead, there I was wasting time in the store. So as you might guess, my patience was quickly fading. With a sigh, I said, “No.” And then in an attempt to speed up this process, I said it’s not a Pepsi product either but it is distributed buy Pepsi in our area, so it qualifies as a Pepsi Product.”

Thinking that would be the end of it, or hoping anyway, I pulled out my debit card, ready to pay. But the saga continued. “So, you would need to get another Pepsi product and another Coke product in order to get the $4.99 price.”

“Mix and match,” I said dryly, thinking I was going to have to explain the concept. Then I figured out the best, and quickest, way to end the standoff. “I’ll go get the price tag from the shelf.”

I’m not sure what it was, the disgusted look on my face, the roll of my eyes, or maybe she knew what the tag said all along. Whatever it was, she suddenly relented and the total I owed instantly dropped by $4.00.

That was a lot of work for four dollars, I thought to myself—especially when I was already tired. But four dollars is four dollars. And it was my four dollars! Turning to leave, I noticed the lady in line behind me had a carton of Coke and a carton of Pepsi. Good luck, I thought. But she must have been listening in on my encounter with the cashier. “Are these on sale for $4.99?”

“Yes,” the cashier said—politely; then went on ringing up the rest of the lady’s items. And that was the end of it!

Is it just me? ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million.

Monday, August 20, 2018

Sure As Shooting

A couple of months ago, my wife went to visit our son while I stayed behind to man the fort at home. (Which really means I stayed home to take care of the dogs). While there, my son took his mother to a shooting range where she had the opportunity to fire an M4 fully automatic rifle. And I was jealous! Sort of. I wrote a blog post about it and said I needed to plan another trip myself. (If you missed the post, you can read it here).

Actually, I was happy she’d gotten the chance to go shooting with him but since I’d never experienced firing an automatic rifle, I was itching to schedule my next visit. That trip was this past weekend. And yes, I did get to go shooting! And yes, I shot the M4!

I know, it probably doesn’t sound all that exciting to some, but I liked it. I’d like to say that I was an instant expert but sadly, that is not the case. I did manage to fire two rounds into the ceiling though, thanks to not being able to see through the fogged up glasses. My aim improved dramatically after wiping the glasses off!

I’ve shot many different guns, rifles, handguns, big and small, but all were either single-shot or semi-automatics. Never an automatic. So, this was quite different. And fun! And now I think I need to purchase one of my own. Yes, despite the general misconception, a guy CAN buy a fully automatic rifle; all it takes is a few dollars—a few thousand dollars that is. Twenty ought to do it. That’s not too much to spend on a gun is it? After all, we spend more than that on a car that only lasts a few years, so...

On second thought, I could just make another trip to see my son and we could perhaps go shooting again. Probably a smarter choice since that wouldn’t cost anywhere near twenty thousand dollars! But then, it’s just money. It’s not like I’m going to need it for anything else. Well, maybe to pay my bills... and buy food... and gas... and—it looks like I’ll be headed to my son’s house again. ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. 

Sunday, August 12, 2018

Melancholy


Sad times at my house. We had to have our dog, Ricochet, put down this week. And after ten years of owning this collie, we were quite attached. As you may know, I LOVE dogs, but at times like this I tend to think it’d be better if I didn’t like them so much.



I’ve had other dogs, even other collies, but this one was the most gentle and nicest dog I’ve ever known—by far. She was great with the grandkids, even when they mistook her for a pony or thought she was their personal pillow, or anything else they could dream up for her to do. Whatever they did, she didn’t mind, I think she just loved the attention.

Although the last year was very hard on her, she never complained—other than moaning in her sleep—just went along with things the best she could. Her ailments were many, she couldn’t digest food very well, had trouble getting up, lying down, walking, and lately, even breathing. She was going blind and losing her hearing, as well as her sense of smell. And then few weeks ago, she started having seizures. It seemed like each week she was developing more issues. So, it was definitely time—but that doesn’t make it any easier. We’d put it off for quite a while, probably longer than we should have, but then we realized that was more for our benefit and not hers.

This wasn’t the first time I’ve lost a pet and it won’t be the last because we still have two dogs keeping us company. I think it gets harder with each one. Part of the reason, I think, is because not only is there a sense of loss from the one dog but it dredges up memories and feelings from the past and we get to feel the sadness of losing the other dogs all over again. Or maybe it’s due to my age, I don’t know. Whatever the reason, my wife and I have agreed, no more dogs. We just don’t want to go through that any more—and yes, we are acutely aware there will be two more to deal with at some point. A LONG time in the future, hopefully.

Note: I hope it’s all right that I took a break from my normally humorous posts to share some of my mournful sorrows from the past week. R.I.P. Ricochet. ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million.

Monday, August 6, 2018

Not-So-Green Energy


About twenty years ago, the landscape in north central Oregon began to be decorated with windmills. Not the traditional type of windmill that you see at an old farm but giant industrial windmills with turbines around 100 feet in length. These windmills were supposed to be the new age of electricity production, replacing the “outdated” methods of generating electricity: hydroelectric dams, coal plants, and nuclear facilities.

At the time, I was rather unimpressed. They looked kind of ugly and with as many as they were putting up, you couldn’t look any direction without seeing several of them detracting from the majestic scenery Oregon is known for. Back then, I read an article, which stated that such windmills were nothing more than a feelgood attempt to cajole people’s ecological tendencies. The highly visible eyesores drove home the point that our generation was being more responsible by going with clean energy.

But, with the cost of production, transportation, installation, and routine maintenance, (not to mention the amount paid to the landowner) it could take approximately twenty-five years for a windmill to break even. Trouble is, the life expectancy of the windmill is also about twenty-five years. So, the entire effort is a wash, and that’s a best-case scenario.

There are other inherent problems as well: sometimes it’s too windy to operate the windmills, they do not produce enough to power—unless you have a hundred or so of them running, which is why we have more windmills than trees, and since that type of electricity can’t be stored, the windmills do not operate on a continuous basis—only when the power they generate can be immediately used.

They do have one redeeming feature, namely, as previously mentioned, landowners are paid very well to host the windmill. So, people in the area, as long as they are landowners, have done fairly well since the big white monsters have taken over. And of course, that has translated to a boost to the local economy. As a result, most people have a favorable view of the windmills, or at least not a drastic negative view. However, that may change soon.

The other day, we had a fire that began along the road to my job. That’s nothing new; we have fires a lot. But this particular fire, which burned out a mile and a half of railroad tracks, including a couple of trestle bridges, was caused by, you guessed it, a windmill.
According to eyewitness accounts, a windmill began to spark, and then started throwing a shower of fiery sparks. These descended to the ground where the dried weeds were waiting to catch fire. Thankfully, the fire was extinguished with nothing besides the railroad property being lost.

While the railroad is already busy repairing the rail line, and trains should only be down a few days, the bigger issue that people are starting to realize is, we have thousands of these windmills, all aged roughly the same, which now apparently seem to pose a fire hazard—in a very dry climate. That’s not a good combination.
Okay, I know this post missing my usual lighthearted humor with a slight twist of irony. Let me try to remedy that. Although I hate to revel in anyone's misery, there is a certain satisfaction derived from the recent events. See, normally, in the course of my job, I can expect to wait on a train once or twice a day—sometimes ten minutes, sometimes half an hour or more. They pull back and forth, changing cars, sometimes stopping only a few feet from clearing the crossing, then going the other way before again stopping a few feet short—all with no regard for traffic. It's very annoying, especially when they could go a few more feet, and sometimes literally inches, to let traffic pass while they are hooking or unhooking. It wouldn’t even cost them any more time. So, as I said, although I hate to revel in anyone's misery, and although I’ve always held the view that the windmills were a rather useless endeavor, I haven't had to wait on a train for a few days! ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million.

Monday, July 23, 2018

An Exciting Week


It’s been an interesting and eventful week. First, my town made the national news due to a major fire. Not a good way to make the news but then most news isn’t exactly good news. Thing is we have fires a lot, being that it’s hot and dry here most of the summer. But a fire usually doesn’t make it any farther than the local news.

Speaking of hot and dry, we finally got some decent weather; temperatures in the triple digits, humidity in the single digits—just the way I like it! I know, I know. Most people are not happy with that kind of weather, but as a guy who absolutely detests winter, I love it when summer actually arrives.

Toward the latter part of the week, I came upon a roll over accident on the freeway. A pickup towing a camping trailer blocked the road for a few hours as both were on their side and across both lanes. I was not affected by the road closure since it was on the opposite of the freeway than the direction I was traveling. But I did go by and see it, just minutes, or maybe seconds, after it happened. I saw other drivers rushing to help the driver of the pickup get out.

Speaking of driving, after nine months of the semi I normally drive being in the shop, I got it back last week. Interestingly enough, it went into the shop, back in early November, to have a radio installed. That was completed in a day or so, however, for nine long months the truck developed one major problem after another. Every time the mechanics would fix something, another issue showed up. The good news is it now runs great! The bad news is, the radio doesn’t really work like it’s supposed to. But I guess that’s to be expected, life being full of the irony that it is.

Moving on to the weekend, I was commissioned, or drafted, or shanghaied—actually, I think I was just asked and I agreed—to put a floor into my grandson’s bedroom. And that brings me to the most exciting thing about the week.

They’d just moved into the house and when I showed up to work on the floor, my grandson came bursting through the door to tell me all about the place. “Did you see the most exciting thing?” Then, without waiting for an answer, he said, “Come on, I’ll show you. It’s so exciting.”

I followed, wondering what it was that had him so, well... excited. All the way to his bedroom, he kept up his exuberant banter. When we reached the room, he stopped and said “Are you ready?” Again, without waiting for an answer, he went right on. “Tada! Here it is!”

“It” turned out to be a door. But not just any door. This door was one of those that is split in the middle, allowing you to open the top half separately. Or, as I was showed, you can lock them together and make it a single unit door. Also, as I was told, it was the “most exciting thing in the whole house.”

I agreed, it was pretty exciting. And then I set to work on the floor. Funny thing about that. One of the first steps to replacing the floor was to take the door off. I don’t think my grandson was impressed! I guess you could say he was no longer excited.

I did get the floor done and just so you know, the door is now back in place! Exciting, I know. ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million.

Monday, July 16, 2018

The Shores Of Missouri

Years ago, back when I was in kindergarten, my teacher used to read the class a short story now and then. (Probably every day but I don’t really remember for sure). One day she read about a family that took a weekend trip to the ocean. It was a nice little story that centered on all the fun activities the family did: swimming, boating, beachcombing, looking for seashells, etc.

But me, contrarian that I was—yeah, even way back then I was a little cantankerous—focused only on the part of the story that made no sense. Right at the beginning, the story said that after packing their bags, the family got into the car and drove about an hour before reaching the beach. That would be fine I suppose, but I lived in Missouri and I knew it was a lot longer trip to the ocean than just an hour. I said as much after the teacher had finished reading.

I remember the teacher sort of laughed and explained that not everybody in the world lived in Missouri; that some did indeed live an hour from the ocean. What’s more, she said, some people actually lived on the beach.

I was unconvinced. Nowhere in the story had it said they didn’t live in Missouri, and as any five-year-old knows, if something isn’t explicitly stated, it must not be true. Besides, I thought, who would live on the beach anyway?

True to my already established nature of not letting things go, I kept insisting that the story was wrong. Finally—just to shut me up, I now realize—she told me I was right and the book must have had a misprint. That would never satisfy me now, but it did then and I dropped it.

But recently, it all came rushing back. I was waiting in line at the store, and overheard a slightly annoyed guy telling his antsy kids that they needed to settle down and learn to be patient. They’d be to the ocean in about an hour, he said.

Problem is, the town we were in is a good three hours from the ocean. So, unless he planned on driving like Mario Andretti, an hour just wasn’t going to cut it. Now, I know the guy was probably just giving them a little spiel to make them think it wasn’t going to be a long ride—and it appeared to be working—but me, being me, couldn’t resist pointing out that an hour was a very low and ultimately inaccurate estimate. Okay, I didn’t use those words. What I actually said was, “You ain’t going to make it to the ocean in an hour, not from here.”

I’m sure the guy appreciated my commentary. Or, not. After telling his kids to go wait in the car, he asked, “So, how long is it going to take?”

Normally, I would answer such a question with, “Depends on how fast you drive.” But, since I’d already sort of alienated the guy, I told him it would be about three hours, give or take, depending on traffic.

“Great,” he replied, though I could tell he really didn’t think my answer was all that magnificent. I got the distinct impression he wasn’t exactly enjoying this trip so far, and apparently it hadn’t even started. Then, he added, “Should have never moved.”

Moved from where? That’s what I was wondering but I didn’t say anything.

As it turned out, I didn’t have to because he answered it anyway. “We used to live on the beach.”

I kind of laughed, which probably wasn’t well received, but I was thinking, “Apparently, my teacher was right.” ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. 

Monday, July 9, 2018

Driving My Life Away

Last Friday, I completed twenty years of driving truck at my current job. Just in case anyone is wondering, that’s a LONG time. How long? Well, Clinton was President when I started working there. Google did not yet exist. Neither did YouTube. Or Facebook. Or Twitter. And while cell phones existed, most people did not have one. Same goes for the Internet.

A lot has changed at my job since I first started driving there. The most notable change is that most of the people who worked at the place are now gone. Out of the more than a hundred employees in 1998, only a handful are left. And yet, the job is still pretty much the same; I drive, and drive, and then drive some more. I’ve logged nearly three million miles since that first day. And that’s just in the semi, which doesn’t count the 130 miles I commute.

I’ve been asked how I can stand to drive so much and the answer is simple; when I went to work there, I didn’t set out to drive three million miles, or even one million. I just drove, one mile at a time—for a few hours at a time. The hours turned to days, the days turned to weeks, then to months and years. Easy, right?

Of course, I was a lot younger back then, twenty years younger to be exact. Good thing the job isn’t hard, huh? No matter what some people claim, driving a truck is really not something that takes a lot of effort. The most difficult part of the job is staying awake, which does seem to be a little tougher the older I get.

Speaking of staying awake, I’ve noticed it’s far easier to do if I get more sleep. My typical four to five hours per night, which is what I’ve slept most of my life, just doesn’t cut it anymore. So, I think I’ll wrap up this post and maybe go to bed—since in a few hours it’ll be time to start year number twenty-one at my job. Yay! ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. 

Monday, July 2, 2018

Making Time


Driving a truck for thirteen or fourteen hours per day, Monday through Friday, means Saturday is usually a busy day for me. Correction, Saturday is always a busy day for me. Trying to keep everything caught up around the house is a full-time job; one that I generally spend just one day doing.

So, when my wife asked if I wanted to join her in taking four of our grandchildren to the carnival, I declined. It’s not that I don’t like carnivals or the rides, because I do. It’s not that I don’t like my grandchildren either, because I do. But I was busy.

Then, she suggested that it may be helpful to have me there to keep the kids corralled. I realized it might be a difficult job alone since some rides require small children to be accompanied by an adult. Kind of hard with that many kids, especially if the youngest one or two are too small to ride a particular ride. So, I acquiesced.

The first thing I noticed at the carnival was how many people weren’t there. Here it was, a Saturday afternoon, great weather, not hot or cold, little to no wind—and hardly any crowd at a normally crowded event. Not that the attendance level bothered me, it meant less time waiting in lines and more time enjoying the rides—not to mention less of an opportunity for the grandchildren (and me) to grow impatient and then frustrated and irritable.

We had a good time and in about two hours we’d done all there was to do. Amazing how fast things go when there aren’t hoards of people! I think the grandkids were happy that I’d joined them and I was glad I’d gone along. And two hours wasn’t going to upset my Saturday work schedule that much. Sure, I was busy but then, I’m always busy.

Walking back to my pickup, I again was struck by the fact that so few people were there enjoying the day. I still find it strange. But I think I figured out why no one was there. Maybe, anyway. Could it be that most parents and/or grandparents stayed home that day because... they were busy? ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million.