Just Published: The King of Pearl

The King of Pearl is now available. Order your copy today!

Here is a quick overview to wet your appetite:

Sirius Boa has night sight-an uncanny way of affixing to inanimate objects that which lets him see them in the dark. He first became aware of this talent during a midnight raid on a chicken coop. As he matured, he honed this faculty until he could imbue an ottoman with the aura he once bestowed upon anthills. He calls it, "giving breath, then space."
He has other talents besides-he can discern faint whisperings. But it is his night sight that will guide him in his battle against the terrible dark that has descended upon the Rouen countryside.

This is the story of Sirius Boa, an American called to Rouen to help heal a stricken friend. It is the story of Giselda, the mysterious Gypsy he befriends, and of Madame de la Plume, doleful mistress of the magnificent and tragic Briand estate.

This is the story of a haunting, and of an entity that has existed upon the plains of central France for millennia. It is the story of two people who find each other in the midst of this haunting, and of a third person who is part lover, part hater, and part key to their very survival.

Doing It With Mirrors

What can a thousand billion dollars be worth when it issues from a ten thousand billion dollar debt? More to the point: How much will the few remaining dollars in our pockets be worth once that ungodly sum floods the market?

We're not out of the woods; we're not even moving in the right direction. Rather, we stand still, at a crossroads, so to speak, looking down a narrowing way. That is the easy way - the way to our desires. It has always been the wider road, with its endless possibilities and its wide cliffs. The cliff remains wide. The road, itself, has narrowed.

Let us understand this: There is obvious value in the buildings we live and work in, and in the land those buildings stand upon. There is value in the products that come out of those buildings, and in the services rendered when we enter them. The land upon which we grow our crops has great value. We can put our arms around these things.

What we can not put our arms around is 85 billion dollars to AIG, over 100 billion to Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, 25 billion to GM, 20 to Bear Stearns, 750 billion to the bail out, 150 billion to the stimulus - we're talking real dollars, right? We have a ten trillion dollar debt, yet we can prop up these fooolish banks and failing businesses with a thousand billion dollars? Is that real money? Sounds like monopoly money to me.

Throwing money around like it's paper is no way to climb out of a financial hole. Rather, it is an attempt to buy our way out - that is, to "credit" our way out, (although "credit" is what has gotten us here.)

Trying to do it with credit is like doing it with mirrors - simply more illusion. It is like we have gone into the Fun House and have gotten lost. "Send in more clowns," we say, "and more mirrors."

There are signs that some of us are trying to make an adjustment. I hear "lay-aways" are coming back, and people are driving less - taking less joy rides and more walks. That's a start. It will take a lot more of the same - the walking, the saving, the sacrificing; the spending of "earned" dollars instead of "free" (i.e., fake) ones.

You Go Girl!

Hillary Clinton won the New Hampshire Primary. They say it was her strategic show of emotion that saved the day. I say: Her tears won her the primary but may have lost her everything else.

That mist moment came in a New Hampshire cafe when Hillary thought she was hopelessly behind Barack Obama in the polls. She was feeling sorry for herself, and let her tell it, feeling sorry for the American people. It was a watershed moment that some pundits believe turned a 10-point Clinton deficit into a 3-point win - an unprecedented one-day swing, especially considering Obama had done nothing noticeably wrong to lose the vote, and Clinton had done nothing noticeably right to win it...except to cry.

What does it say about us when we are driven by fear in on election (2004) and by tears in the next (2008)? It does not bode well for the world when the pre-eminent standard bearer of democracy persists in voting out of weakness.

Barack Obama speaks of bridging the great divide. His message of change crosses lines of race, politics, and nations. It is a promise he cannot deliver himself; only we, the people, can fulfill that promise. Obama promises to help.

Hillary pooh-poohs Obama's message - calls it "just words." "Just words"? Where would America be without its words? Do we think the American Revolution could have been fought and won without Patrick Henry's "Give me liberty, or give me death"? How could Americans (and the world) put the slaughter of the Civil War into perspective without Lincoln's Gettysburg Address? The words of great Americans resound through the centuries, assuring us, and moving us forward.

For those women who are inspired by Obama "words," but feel desperately bound by the bonds of sisterhood, you might consider this:

On August 28, 1963, Martin Luther King, Jr stood within shouting distance of the White House and delivered his "I Have A Dream" speech. Two weeks later, racist white men tossed a bomb through a church window in Birmingham, Alabama killing four young African-American girls. It is a stain on this land that cannot be erased, except it be erased by a sight that warms our hearts with a clarity equal to the hateful act that broke out hearts 45 years ago.

Today, two young African-American sisters by the name of "Obama" move inexorably toward the steps of that same White House. And you thought Hillary was the most important female in this campaign. Au contraire, female voters of America. That distinction belongs to you - you desperate housewives - and to the little Obama girls.

La Famille

In the movie "Godfather III" Michael Corleone stands at the cusp of legitimacy. Then a violent act drives his family back into its past. The Don laments: "Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in."

In the real world, Alaskan senator, Ted Stevens, is on trial, charged with accepting gifts (including expensive home renovations), and lying on senate financial disclosure forms. He asked Colin Powell to vouch for his character. Mr. Powell did just that.

It was not that long ago that George Bush, Dick Cheney, Donald Rumsfield, and the gang needed some vouching for - somebody with the "creds" to assure the world that Bush's headlong rush to war with Iraq was legit. As Bush's Secretary of State, Colin Powell made the case with his presentation to UN of "mobile weapons labs" and other such evidence of Saddam's WMD program - a program that, in reality, did not exist. Thanks to his "good reputation," Powell was able to convince many that what did not exist, did. this good man sold the world a lie - a lie that cost 100,000 lives.

Nothing gnaws at a man like regret. Once the truth began to come out, and Powell realized how he had been used, he rued his critical part in this disastrous war. Too bad. Bush was done with him - this man with a conscience - and soon threw him over for someone (Condoleeza Rice) who had few qualms about keeping the lie alive. Ms. Rice's job: Further galvanize the "Coalition of the Swilling" - that motley collection of countries who sole stake in the Iraq War was what bounty they could reap from the US by joining.

It has been close to four years now, and Powell has steadily recovered what is innately his - his good reputation. It can happen, once you have disconnected yourself from that which is cancer.

Comes the senator, Ted Stevens, ranking "crook" and former chair of the powerful Ways and Means Committee: "Colin," he says, "can you vouch for me?"

Just when he thought he was out, they pull him back in.

Marching As One

The old bowed tree in front of The Breeze
Where we tested our leap and our mettle
Sitting the tracks with the sun at our backs
Remembering the days, how they settled

Bid whist games when the rains came
The runs too muddy for sledding
Long, country days, we had it our way
And knew just where we were heading...

Marching as one
Woodland Park
Through a land called "Home"
Woodland Park
Through the woods of our birth
That sweet patch of Earth
Where we grew straight and strong

Singing our song
About the woods we would roam
Whether dusty dirt roads
Or blackberry lodes
It's where we belonged
Marching as one
Marching as one
Marching as one...

The back roads know of the heartaches
And promises written in the sand
They know of secrets that only time will tell
Of enchanted nights hand in hand

We praise above for these woods we love
Its moonlit nights on the beach
For the flowers that bloom in its April room
And memories that make us complete...

Marching as one
Woodland Park
Through a land called "Home"
Woodland Park
Through the woods of our birth
That sweet patch of Earth
Where we grew straight and strong

Singing our song
About the woods we would roam
Whether dusty dirt roads
Or blackberry lodes
It's where we belonged

Coming on strong
Thinking 'bout those we've known
All the people who've stayed
Or just came and played
They made this a home

Oh, the people we've known
How their spirits have flown
Come on back inside
This door's open wide
It's always your home

Marching as one
Through a land called "Home"
Through the good and the bad
The sound and the mad
What a place to belong

Marching as one
Through a land called "Home"
Through the good and the bad
The sound and the mad
What a place to belong...

(Dedicated to Josephine Carter-Toliver)

Get the Shotgun!

Sarah Palin is quite a woman...she is just out of touch with America. Her insistence that two 17 year olds marry because one of them comes up pregnant is right out of the...Middle Ages...of America. We don't do that to our children anymore - pretend that they are adults and, therefore "ready," simply because one makes the other pregnant. For one thing, 17 year olds today are not what they were 50 years ago. Today's 17 year old is more like yesterday's 14 year old.

Perhaps it is a cultural thing. Perhaps they still do that in Alaska. Okay. That's cool. I like Alaska. But it's not cool when you bring that kind of talk down to the lower contiguous states.

Sarah, let's talk: I'm not mad at you. I like that good "old time religion." But it does not play the same down here. What I'm saying is: We are not going back. John McCain is an "old dog," and you, Sarah, are old-fashioned. Neither of you the future America. He marches in beat with, not only what is the natural rhythm of this country, but with it inevitable destiny.

You are beautiful, Sarah - a natural governor...of Alaska. That great state is fortunate to have you your fine family. But America moves in a different direction. Barack Obama understands this.

Whether you and McCain defeat Barack Obama or not, it will still be Barack's vision that prevails. All that you and McCain can do is slow America down; you cannot stop it.

America will move in Barack's direction with or without Barack Obama. It will move in Barack's direction with or without Palin and McCain.

Wall Street - Shop of Horrors

"...Then everything shall include itself into power, power into will, will into appetite, and appetite, a universal wolf so doubly seconded with will and power that must make perforce a universal prey, and last eat up himself...
- Shakespeare, "Troilus and Cressida"

Wall Street is hungry. It wants money. And America's business and political leaders are frantic to feed it.

It all reminds me of the Hollywood classic, "The Little Shop of Horrors," when the man-eating plant cries out, "Feed me." Today, this modern shop of horrors we refer to as Wall Street is crying out, "Feed me...feed me, or else." It wants that 700 million dollars, and it wants it now! To make its point, when denied its sustenance on Monday by those "awful people on Capitol Hill," it gobbled up 1.2 trillion dollars itself - gone! Feed me.

Wall Street will get its money because the people in charge of the money are afraid of Wall Street. And the big shots that got rich before will get rich later. That money is theirs - they know it - and they are already formulating their strategies to get it. Forget about the taxpayer. When he signs over that 700 billion to Wall Street, that is the last he will ever see of it.

It is time the lowly taxpayer returned to his senses - stop trying to be that which you are not. Start thinking of yourselves - not in terms of Wall Street and fat cats, but in terms of real life and real ideals. Become more self-sufficient. Let Wall Street do what Wall Street does - parade itself around as the picture of prosperity, when in fact it is the picture of greed. Let the illusion be.

It is time real people began to earn real dollars again by doing real work - by saving, by sacrificing, and by denying themselves that which they want but do not need. Don't let Wall Street devour you. Let it devour itself; it will. Your job will be to keep your family at a safe distance.