OMG!! Davy Jones reported to have Crossed Over today

Monkees fans join me in a LONG moment of silence.

If what they say is true . . . Davy Jones has crossed over into Heaven today at age 66 after an apparent heart attack.

Those who saw Davy and Micky in their last concert appearances are lucky indeed to have seen the historic performance. I was broke and sick and didn’t get to go, so I hope you took PICTURES.

His body of work will serve as a wonderful legacy.

Now we’re down to three Monkees and two Beatles.

*(sigh)*

But isn’t it LIKE a Monkee to die on Leap Day so that the deathiversary only comes along once every four years?

Here’s wishing him an easy crossing. “We’ll see you on the Other Side.”

Advertisements

Today doesn’t exist in most years!

Happy Leap Day! If today’s your birthday, you can get free treats at most stores/restaurants by just asking because you are SO SPECIAL. Give it a try at Mickey D’s and the cupcake store! And Happy Rare Birthday to you!

Old Irish legend has it that women may propose to men on this day-—and those men have to accept. [Ireland used to be fairly packed with guys hiding under every bush and in every pot o’ gold on Leap Day, I would assume.) Some legend-bearers add that if he declines, he must buy her 12 pairs of gloves to hide the naked ring finger. Of course, nowadays anyone can propose to anyone on ANY day. We live in enlightened times!

Today delays our paycheck (first and fifteenth of month) another day. Must live on cornbread and beans one more day. (hiccup) Also, the government fibbed about how they were going to deposit our tax refund by Feb 28. (sob) Still no refund. And I so wanted to get a new pair of socks!!

Um . . . not Buddy Holly exactly

Hubby’s computer/reading glasses, the ones made specifically for his “computer distance” and closer, kept breaking. The frames were metal, and for whatever reason he was really hard on them and the lenses wouldn’t stay in because the frames got warped. He finally decided he needed to get some sturdier ones.

“Maybe plastic,” he said. “Buddy Holly sort of things. Something that’ll hold up better to being swapped out for my driving/distance ones several times a day.”

We went last week to pick out a nice set of Ray-Bans, and I told everyone he was going to do the Steve Allen/Buddy Holly thing. This evening they called and we picked up the glasses.

Turns out they’re not the Buddy Holly.

They’re the Lisa Loeb.

I think that’s even cuter.

I should go get prescription sunglasses. I can tell this is going to be a bright summer.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Hope you had a pleasant and love-filled Saint Valentine’s Day!

I got a HelloKitty fuzzy throw, a stretch-beads bracelet, and two Hello Kitty school-type folders. Which I promptly filled with the income tax stuff (I e-filed this morning) and the stuff about the repairs that we still need to finish on the house. I’ll bet the spies will never think to look in Hello Kitty folders for such things. They’ll waste all their time looking for the stuff marked BURN BEFORE READING!

I also baked cupcakes. But it was with a gluten-free, sugar-free mix. They really do need the gluten and the sugar. (GRIN) Also, sugar substitutes can make your digestive tract irritated, so you really have to watch how much of it you eat. It’s probably smarter to just eat tiny amounts of the real thing. Just an experiment.

The spreading madness

This used to be a sleepy little neighborhood in a quiet little town where nothing ever happened.

BUT! BUT! AND AGAIN, BUT!!

A few days ago, an innocent bystander was shot TO DEATH by a DART cop (and another bystander was shot in the shoulder, requiring surgery) when the DART cop pursued a guy who was trying to use an expired bus pass in a nearby area and who pulled out a gun and shot the DART cop. (He hit right where her heart is–but fortunately she had a Kevlar bulletproof vest on and it was deflected and grazed her upper arm. She then shot him and the two bystanders with a spray of returned fire.)

Now, yes, I’m sure this woman was not a “real cop” and was just a DART cop and was scared and taken aback when the idiot was told to take his hands out of his pockets and he pulled out a gun and SHOT her. Anytime you point a gun at a police officer, you are DEAD, BTW. It is suicide, whether you pull the trigger or it’s a fake gun or not. But anyway, she panicked and she wasn’t a cop who goes to the shootin’ range all the time or whatever, and she hit two bystanders.

What’s so shocking about this?

It was at Arapaho Station in RICHARDSON, TEXAS. Just on the east side of US75 from the library and City Hall!

News item: Bystander dead in shootout at Dallas train station
(AP) RICHARDSON, Texas — A man suspected of starting a shootout with police at a suburban Dallas transit station that left a bystander dead Tuesday was himself found dead a short time later after a second gunfight with pursuing officers, authorities said. The shootout at a Dallas Area Rapid Transit “Red Line” train station in Richardson also wounded two others, including a transit officer who had confronted the man around 3:30 p.m. Tuesday. The shootout started after the driver of a DART bus told a transit police officer at the station that a man who had just boarded was being disorderly, Perlich said. The man, who was walking toward a waiting DART train, opened fire when the officer confronted him. After the transit officer returned fire, the man fled to a nearby warehouse [ALMOST certainly the VentAHood headquarters that’s been there forever, across Greenville Avenue–SC], where he exchanged fire with other officers who pursued him. That’s where he was found dead, Perlich said. One bystander who was shot later died at Medical Center of Plano. [Nearest trauma center.–SC] It was the latest in a string of violent incidents reported recently at DART stations. Last month, a man was shot to death during an argument with three people at a station in downtown Dallas. In December, undercover Dallas police officers shot and killed a suspect who they say brandished a handgun aboard an Amtrak train [almost certainly the Texas Eagle to Chicago!–SC] stopped at Union Station in Dallas, the hub of DART’s rail network. An officer and a bystander were wounded. A few weeks earlier, four juveniles were arrested and charged with murder after a 19-year-old man was shoved against an accelerating DART train at a platform near Fair Park, southeast of downtown Dallas.

They are downplaying this, but the bystander who survived says he knows it was the officer’s bullet that hit him. They also say that the perp shot himself in the head and was not killed by the officer. The bystander who was shot appears to have had disabilities. This just slays me, it is SO UNFAIR.

A week ago, a man was shot in the stomach at the Pearl Street DART station. He was also killed. But that didn’t worry me as much as this incident, because the man was already in a push-and-shove argument with the two men who had the guns, and that was downtown. It was worrisome, but not like having it happen in your own side yard. I mean, when we moved here in 1967, this was the boonies! Roads were not even all paved! We could walk down Custer and see horses and cows and llamas in the pasture! Cotton fields were just north of us (our neighborhood is built on cotton land . . . possibly also a Choctaw burial ground, as far as I am concerned). Now it is the middle of town.

I have been after my mother to let me take her on a joy ride on the DART train down to the Mockingbird Station (she doesn’t want to go underground, which it does at CityPlace, the next stop south) because she is a train fancier and that is like riding a Six Flags ride, as far as I am concerned. But now . . . she wouldn’t go for anything. I would be afraid to take her, anyhow. We’d be targets because we’d be on the “handicapped” platform and would be riding in front of the train with her walker. She won’t get the experience.

The neighborhood e-newsletter has been filled with incidents of people stealing the tires (!!) off of cars and trucks in the night. You could be parked in your own driveway or in the street–didn’t matter. If you had nice tires of a size that’s in demand, they’d steal it. This is all over our development. Today’s e-mail tells us that someone stole the wheels (!!!) off a truck on the street where we used to live, and left the truck up on cinderblocks. Now, THAT’S AGGRESSIVE.

Then we went through the Burger King drive-through to get all of us burgers (the Pomeranian eats a Whopper Jr. without cheese–he LOVES cheese, but has asthma) and noticed that last night some idiot got back there and painted graffiti all over the back of the adjacent building. Good grief! We never had any graffiti. Nobody ever used to steal street signs.

I am praying to win the lottery so we can move next door to Clint Eastwood. Saw the Pebble Beach Celebrity Golf tourney today and decided that the area is perfect for us. Mama’s hero, Ray Romano, made some sublime golf shots. Beautiful ocean full of sea lions. A breeze off the sea. That neighborhood would be safe enough for us. We’re on our way.

I already HAVE the classy piano. (Never mind that she doesn’t QUITE come up to concert pitch and that the next-to-lowest F goes out of tune faster)

And the Pomeranian.

What DO you call it?

I have a scene set in a small music shop. My heroine is behind the counter, getting ready to close. Let’s say it is ONE minute until closing. Is there something she could be doing that would clue readers in, without using too many words, that she’s closing up shop?

Currently, my opening sentence for the romantic suspense ghost story book refers to “closing up shop.” I perceived that as a shorthand that would clue readers in that it was closing time, and allow them to visualize whatever that means to them. The important thing is that we get across the idea that it’s quitting time.

I tweaked the opening a bit today, with the help of the WRITING2 mailing list. But it may need a bit more tweaking.

“Paige Campbell was closing up shop when the phone rang.”

(The ringing phone is the ominous note.)

Even if you’ve never worked retail, there must be SOMETHING that would mean quitting time. Emptying the till, locking the front door, whatever. But I don’t want to put too much emphasis on the action, so that’s why I was vague and general. Should I be more specific? Or is that OK?