“The good old days were the days, seemingly, when the critics had their way and ran things with a high hand; they made or unmade books and authors. They killed Chatterton, just as, some years later, they hastened the death of Keats. For a time they were all-powerful. It was not until the end of the eighteenth century that these professional tyrants began to lose their grip, and when Byron took up the lance against them their doom was practically sealed.”
- Eugene Field (Love Affairs Of A Bibliomaniac, 1896 - Chapter XIV)
EUGENE FIELD’S THE LOVE AFFAIRS OF A BIBLIOMANIAC, CHURCH’S ILLIAD, DISNEYLAND AND OTHER THOUGHTS:
One of my earliest childhood memories is of two visits to Disneyland. The first time we arrived early and waited in the parking lot. From the outside, it looked a lot like another amusement park that I spent a lot of time at, the Santa Cruz Boardwalk.
Once we entered, it was noticeably different. The model for the Boardwalk was Coney Island, but here the intent was to create a place where the sights and atmosphere were part of a strange and wonderful fantasyland where a small child could see all the movies and characters come to life.
Disneyland was like a play with actors and stage props, except that you could ride or live in the scenes.
My favorite was the Nautilus, where one experienced a simulation of the submarine featured in one of my favorite movies, 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea. The giant squid was the obvious highlight.
The early 60s was an innocent era. We were given a booklet of tickets and let loose, and the park was small enough that we could track down our parents if needed.
I never went back. When asked why, my reply was that some memories are best kept like photographs in an album. After reading about all of the new technological wonders and sights, I was impressed but felt that some experiences don't get better just because things get bigger or awe-inspiring.
Part of that is because the Disney experience at the time was a perfect combination of entertainment and living a fantasy. Watching the toy soldiers march about after seeing the movie Babes In Toyland was a different childhood experience.
It was the same for Las Vegas when I got older. I saw it when it was just like in the movie Casino with Robert De Niro, and I preferred that it be my last image of the city. The place certainly got bigger and better, but not classic.
Keep in mind that I'm talking about my own experience, and it's not a judgment about others.
Another entertainment and fantasy world combination is children's books, which ideally stimulate the imagination and for fun.
In his book "The Love Affairs Of A Bibliomaniac, " Eugene Field describes his first love, a book called "The New England Primer." Reading it became a profound entrance into the world of books and held a special spot in his memory.
I had a similar experience in the fourth grade. I loved books by then and had several favorites, but the one that became an obsession was Alfred Church's Iliad (and Odyssey) for young children.
Throughout that school year, I checked it out, renewed it up to the limit, and repeated the cycle repeatedly. It wasn't a popular book, my name was the only one on the library card, and the one time it wasn't there (which smacked of conspiracy) was because it was misplaced. No one would have noticed except I came in every lunch hour asking if it had been found yet.
During that time, I discovered other great characters like Sur-dah, the lion. Still, that year, I just wanted to enjoy that exciting world with the doomed warrior Achilles and the quick-witted Goddess Athena.
Achilles was an interesting psychological character; a man who knew his fate, which was a short life full of glory and ending as a great warrior whose fame would last forever. Only Alexander The Great was more famous. It was a life his mother chose, and his feelings about it were probably quite complex.
That's stuff I didn't know in fourth grade. What fascinated me was that the Gods and Goddesses seemed like humans but with magical powers, and if they liked you, it was like having a Guardian Angel. Having a powerful friend to protect you was a big deal for a kid.
Also, the book depicted a world that seemed more exciting than school, which had necessary but boring routines, and passing tests weren't the same as great deeds by warriors and Gods.
I won't claim that there was a deep purpose in my love of that book or that it helped form a fundamental part of my personality.
Later in life, I found a copy and bought it, but it was clear that it no longer had the same effect. It didn't ruin anything or disappoint, but perhaps as an adult, one moves on to other worlds and realities.
This is why I never visited Disneyland again; there's the part of life that needs exploration and change and some memories that are worth keeping to show that magic happens from time to time.
I stopped trying to find other old children's books for that reason. There's one I mention in my novel, a book about a kid and a dragon who have an adventure in a place full of tangerine trees. Because the main character's imagination has made that fantasy even richer, he has no desire to seek out the book and read it again.
The reason is that the story did what a good book should do, stimulate imagination, and often, the reader will realize that he or she has created a personal version of that world, and it's as real and alive as anything in this world except that you now own it and can live in it anytime.
It's similar to the effect music can have; sometimes, it's best not to try to explain it. Sometimes there are books that should be revisited, and others to send you on your way to explore the world they helped create.
- Al Handa
January 2023
SPECIAL PREVIEW: EXCERPT FROM “JOOK” TO BE PUBLISHED FALL 2023:
I’ve made references in past blog entries to “Jook,” which was started in the 1980s, in my novel as the WIP the main character was working in just prior to becoming homeless. It’s not strictly a epic poem or cycle, there’ll be prose sections that range from conventional narrative to poetic passages. The image above is from William Blake’s illustrated works, which was a big influence on Jook. Many writers like Thackeray and in modern times, Tom Wolfe often did their own illustrations and a work that featured my drawings and graphics appealed to me. I chose Jook to do this as it seemed the most suitable.
The preview is the poem “Elmore James,” and the layout is similar in feel to the actual way it’ll look. I’m holding back the original back until the Fall when the entire work will be published. Take a look and see what you think.
ANTIQUAMANIA BY KENNETH ROBERTS (1928)It's fitting that one of my rarest books is a first edition copy of Kenneth Roberts' "Antiquemania," a satire on antique collecting written under the pseudonym Professor Milton Kilgallen in 1928 in collaboration with the then famous Authors Booth Tarkington and Joseph Hergesheimer.
Kenneth Roberts' most famous books were Arundel, Rabble In Arms, Oliver Wiswell, and Northwest Passage (later made into a movie starring Spencer Tracy, Robert Young, and a young Walter Brennan).
It's an edited compilation of essays from 1924 on the subject and three authors thinly disguised as fictional characters with a passion for collecting vintage items.
The Internet has made the vintage market into a huge industry, but the passion, appreciation, and occasional instances of foolishness and greed haven't changed, and neither have the reasons people will buy old stuff (which admittedly include yours truly).
I could make a decent sum of money in the early eBay era by combing through bargain bins at book and record stores, often selling my finds for up to 50.00 to 100.00 dollars. That was during a small window of around six months.
After that, everybody was Ebaying, including store staff who'd hold back items to sell. The final sign was seeing people with mobile phones stuck to their ears while checking the shelves and bins. So I got out while the going was good and was satisfied with the vintage instruments I blew my profits on.
I didn't want to continue collecting and selling vintage items after that. I had a regular day job, so the money wasn't the point, and while capitalism is as valid a reason as any to hunt vintage, going to garage sales at 5 am and trying to beat the pack to rare items (at least those left on the floor by staff or owners) isn't the kind of antiquing that appealed to me.
In my mind, you want the item at a great price. There were instruments in my collection worth a lot more than I paid, and it never occurred to me to sell those. Looking for a bargain was about having more treasures for the money.
I don't have many instruments anymore and don't have the resources to buy a lot. There's an old 60s acoustic I found at a pawn shop for 125.00 that is worth up to 900.00, but that valuation only adds to my pleasure, if that makes sense.
Also, as musicians know, each instrument sounds different, and selling the guitar for 900.00 wouldn't necessarily get me another guitar that sounds as good. Newer, but not always better.
As a vintage nut, I prefer mojo and the aura of time. It's an aesthetic as opposed to a standard of quality. My 1902 pocket edition of Last Of The Mohicans is more enjoyable to read than a modern version or eBook. I frankly couldn't tell you why; it just is.
In Kenneth Roberts' book, the three protagonists embark on an expedition of discovery that yields priceless treasures and stretches their patience to the breaking point with endless arguments over the actual value of the finds and respective levels of competence in the collecting field.
It's common knowledge that most of the items in an antique store were bought by the owner at a price that's drastically less than its market value. For example, in used records, the average price was around twenty-five to fifty percent of the sale value of the disc, and in some cases, a lot less if it was destined to be a lower price or bargain bin item.
In other words, there's plenty of room for negotiation (though not as much as in jewelry at a chain store), and many of the comic moments are descriptions of the often brutal haggling. Most of the passionate antics are, of course, by the three buyers who occasionally find themselves in competition for the same item to the smug satisfaction of the antique dealer.
One funny passage has one of the collectors and the dealer acting like they could care less if a deal is made until the former suddenly caves and agrees to the outrageously high price. It's a masterpiece of psychological drama.
Kenneth Roberts' Antiquemania is the older style of satire, which either lampooned the rich and powerful or, in this case, poked a little fun at human foibles but had a warm tone and a liking for the subject.
That's a subtlety that's all too often missing in modern satire, which is often weaponized to attack or denigrate on the Internet and political conflicts. Satire at its best is a response to power and privilege, not a blunt stick that hits everyone. Again, that's a fine point but a valid one.
This book has never been reprinted and thus has become the thing the author loved so much, a rare old treasure worth hunting down if you love antiques.
Even better, to paraphrase Eugene Fields, I found a great rare book and got it cheap. That made it a pleasure I could afford. Profit isn't everything, even in America.
- Al Handa
January 2023
CROWN OF INFINITY BY JOHN M. FAUCETTE (1968 ACE BOOKS)
The first time I read John M. Faucette's "Crown Of Infinity" was in my teens, and it was a case of a book finding me. It still finds its way into my reading list from time to time.
A friend of the family gave us a box of paperback books, which included a large number of the now classic Ace Double pulp science fiction books that featured covers on both sides. The one that caught my attention was Crown Of Infinity, which had a colorful graphic of an epic battle between spaceships.
There's the old saying that you can't judge a book by its cover, but the spectacular illustration by Kelly Freas drew me in, and I spent an afternoon reading it.
I'll describe a bit of the story as the book isn't easy to find, and it's the kind of pulp Sci-fi book that isn't seen around much these days. I could be wrong; I don't keep track of that sort of thing.
It's a story about a race called the Star Kings, who The Masters decisively defeated. They realized that the Masters were too powerful and decided on a long-term survival strategy until their evolution made victory possible.
They sent out pairs, a male and female, out in every direction, and each capsule buried itself inside various planets, the more distant and obscure, the better, and waited.
The Masters found out and tirelessly hunted the capsules down, but enough were missed that there were plenty of survivors who eventually developed abilities and technologies to challenge their sworn enemy for ascendency.
What amazed me about the story was the time frame, which unfolded over millions of years. The narrative covered this by describing incidents and people at various stages of the, for lack of a better word, quest.
There was one person, for example, who the computers predicted would be a failure but had to try to execute a mission anyway, knowing that it was part of a much larger process. Yet his failure also sowed the seeds for a more significant development that would ultimately put the Star Kings in a position to succeed. That's an ancient theme, with Achilles of the Iliad who lived knowing his time was short.
Faucette's novel can be found on the Internet as a vintage paperback, so I'll avoid giving more information to avoid spoilers.
There are two things about the book that are noteworthy in 2023. One is that the heroes aren't pure "Alpha" types waving light swords or casting spells. The key to survival is a group mentality, and like insects or other species seen as prey, sheer numbers can defeat an attempt to eradicate them.
The other is that it's old school sci-fi, where the various technologies and awareness came out of a writer's imagination and not necessarily an attempt to predict what was possible. That last point is splitting fine hair, but there is a difference between speculating and being prophetic.
My opinion is that the science fiction genre changed a lot in the 60s due to dystopian writers like Phillip K. Dick and later with the emergence of the "High Tech Novel" pioneered by Tom Clancy and others, which featured tech-based stories that emphasized realism.
That's not to say it all changed, as science fiction has become a multitude of subgenres that range from fantasy to attempts to predict future technology. All of which is good, of course.
I was an avid reader of the early High Tech genre, particularly the works of Tom Clancy and Dale Brown, though admittedly drifting off after it got too technical (in my mind).
Phillip K. Dick is also high on my list, though not to the point of reading everything he's ever written. His "Solar Lottery" is one of the most astute depictions of how humans treat luck as ability and fate. It's the most relevant book that describes how Western societies tend to function.
I preferred Crown Of Infinity to Star Wars, for example, and though both are enjoyable, the scope of Faucette's work is fascinating, and the battle scenes read better than the pyrotechnic visuals of the latter.
Probably the same reason I liked Star Trek better, the more cerebral works are more satisfying (to me).
But why choose? Enjoy them all and decide. In my case, I recommend finding Crown Of Infinity (at a reasonable price) and enjoying a story created out of pure imagination and the events on a timeline not constricted by the time limit of a movie.
- Al Handa
January 2023
Once my feet touch the ground, the spell ends, and I'm no longer floating about like the foxy Queen that I am.
I'm in front of Achilles' tent, but don't enter. Like me, he's royalty, King of the Myrmidons, and I can only come in after being announced.
I wait five seconds, which is longer than a gorgeous Queen should have to wait, then scream, "Achilles! Are you fuckin' in there! It's Khleo!"
A slender young man with long blond hair comes to the entrance; my guess is that it's his best bud Patroclus.
He looks at me for a moment, then asks, "Khleo, are you the Trojan prostitute he sent for?"
I peer at him using my Egyptian Snake Eye expression, casting a spell Bastet taught me that makes men feel like everything they say is wrong. As expected, he wilts before my regal presence.
"I am Queen Khleopahtra of Egypt, Daughter of Cat Goddess Bastet and King Moheeto Of Maersbarre, and I have come to see the great warrior and King, Achilles."
A deep basso-profundo voice that sounded just a little sarcastic rang out from inside the tent, "Pat, please see her High-nass in."
We enter, and I'm immediately knocked on my ass by the smell of sweat and stinky feet. Well, I guess after nine years of war, the dudes are going to get a bit ripe.
Achilles takes a good look at me, then, with a sheepish grin, gets up from his chair and says in a polite voice, "Please forgive our rudeness; we Myrmidons are a rough, warlike tribe but do know how to respect others of royal rank. As far as Pat's crack about the prostitute, I put him up to it. My apologies, your highness."
I dipped my head slightly and continued to hold my breath. Losing battle with the smell, I'm afraid.
He steps forward and says in an even tone of voice, "I am Achilles, Son of Peleus, King Of Phthia and Nereid Thetis, one of the Goddesses of water and daughter of the Sea God Nereus."
He pauses, then his eyes seem to catch fire and bellows as if to the heavens,
"Spoiler Alert! I'm also the Greatest Greek Warrior of all time, who is going to frickin' die young in front of the Walls of Troy after that dweeb Paris, The Prince Of Troy, shoots an arrow into my unprotected heel, which that asshole Trojan Loving Almighty Super God Zeus won't let me cover with armor!"
From the shadows in the corner of the tent stepped a small, elderly man, who meekly says, "Great King, you must not anger the Gods, or they'll end your time early."
Achilles smirks, "Not even Zeus can override the fates."
He looks at me, "You may not know him," pointing at the old man, "In a later time, he'll be known as the Poet Homer whose Chronicles will make my ass famous."
I feel puzzled, "Look, I don't want to be rude but aren't you supposed to be blind?"
Homer laughs and says with a twinkle in his small beady eyes, "I'm still building my brand, but yes, my bio does say that."
"Isn't that lying?"
He shrugs, "Well, yeah, but it does add a little pizzazz to the live show if I squint and appear to play my lyre without looking."
Patroclus adds, in a loud whisper, "Don't tell King Menelaus of Sparta; we let him think he's blind. Otherwise, he'll be assigned to latrine duty or something like that."
Homer looks disgusted, "Picture a beach that men have been living on for nine years."
"I don't have to; I can smell it from here."
Achilles nodded, "It's pretty raucous."
Homer held his small hands up, "As long as we're all here, and have a royal guest; perhaps I can debut the new opening for my Iliad?"
Achilles perks up, "Sure, let 'er rip, poet dude!'
Homer looks as if he's gathering his thoughts, then chants in a melodious voice,
"Fuckin' A, Oh Sing Goddess of the righteously pissed Achilles who kicked ass upon the Achaians, hurling them all ass over tits to Hades to be munched on by ravenous dogs and birds to satisfy the will of Zeus!"
Achilles and Patroclus stood there silently for a moment. The young buddy of the Great Myrmidon King spoke first, "I like the words, man, but I think that it should be a bit more heavy and poetic."
Achilles nodded, "I think the 'Fuckin' A' at the beginning is great, it's like a great lyre riff that opens a rocking metal song, but I think the next line should talk more about my awesomely buff biceps."
Homer adds with a laugh, "The muscular arm wielding the mighty spear of Achilles!"
The two warriors giggled, then Patroclus says, "You can take that any number of different ways!"
Homer interjects, "Well, it's been nine years!"
I roll my eyes. Wow, these guys are such a bunch of jocks!
I patiently wait until the boys, I mean men, stop guffawing and ask, "Is there going to be a battle today?"
Achilles shrugs, "Actually, I don't know. When we first got here, we rumbled every day, but after the eighth year, it was getting monotonous."
Patroclus added, "Plus, the Gods keep interfering and saving their favorites from death in battle. It's getting to be like a Pro Wrestling match with all the fake fighting."
"And I should add," Achilles said, "That's pissing me off because I'm supposing to be having a short rock and roll life kicking Trojan ass, and there's that Geek-ass Paris, looking down at me from the wall, pointing to his bow and arrow and making faces at me."
I shake my head, "Shouldn't he avoid giving away the ending?"
Achilles nods, "I've talked to Athena about it; she says Zeus promises to talk to him but never does."
"Well, maybe my mom knows Athena? I could see if she could work something out or give me a spell that'll shut the guy up?"
Achilles smiles, "Hey, that'd be great if you could."
Just then, the air fills with the sound of trumpets! Looks like a battle today!
Achilles calls out to his servants, "Bring me my armor! Yeah, the one with the unprotected heel!"
He turns to me, "If you can fly, you can join the other Gods and Goddesses watching the battle, it'll be pretty crowded, but you should have a good view of the party!"
Then with a bow, he adds, "If this is 'arrow in the fucking heel day,' you'd think they'd tell me when it'll happen, then it was nice talking to you and give my regards to your mother."
Then with the mighty cry, "Cowabunga!" The two warriors leave with Homer scurrying in tow, clutching his pen and paper.
I lift one of my dainty feet, feel the breeze lift me into the air, and float out after them to watch the mighty Achilles in battle!
END OF EPISODE…
The Forbidden Lost Gospels Of Murgatroyde
Special Free Episode 3: The Ancient Origin Of The Word “Mansplaining”
Human nature hasn't evolved much over time. What has changed is each generation develops terminology to describe behaviors that have existed since the dawn of civilization, which began once humankind no longer needed their brains to survive.
The word "mansplaining" is a relatively new word that describes a man explaining something to a woman condescendingly. It's how men have historically talked to women (and each other, actually), but after thousands of years of it, women became sick of that shit and gave it a name.
Thanks to the tireless efforts of Professor Ivy of Shitzu U, the ancient origins of the term were discovered on the back of an antique Sumerian cereal box that was accidentally listed on Craiglist and purchased by the Shitzu U Archive of Super Old Stuff department.
The furry Professor was able to date the document by translating the cuneiform on the boxtop, which roughly translates to "Best enjoyed before 123,45,7895 B.C.," which she estimated was about 50 years ago.
The revelatory document on the back of the vintage carton describes the first instance of mansplaining, which was then called "haec est satura et non gravis historia." It roughly translates to the phrase "How apex dudes talk to a social inferior whose ass they can kick."
The knowledgeable Barking Scholar does note that her translation isn't precise as some of the Sumerian words have no English equivalent, so the term "socially inferior" could also mean females or red meat eaters, depending on the pronunciation or political leaning of the speaker.
As you can see, not much has changed. Still, the practice of mansplaining back then was, as the floppy-eared scholar says, "A privilege that only the Emperor enjoyed, and such divine words from the living God was often accompanied by torture."
Moreover, the good Professor adds that it was applied equally to both men and women, though it was rare for the latter to enjoy the royal favor as most were kept locked up and out of sight until around 1962.
In the concluding summary of Ivy's Treatise, "Men Can Be Paper Trained," the following observations and conclusions were made:
On the female side, the term for a man who uses an explanation to denigrate a woman is a mansplainer.
On the male side, a selection of the numerous equivalent terms includes "Karen," B---h, nag, harridan, uppity, Jezebel, witch, catty, or Eve.
The reason that men have so many useful terms to denigrate a woman who tries to mansplain is that they've been speaking out of turn longer, and, boys being boys, language became a way to settle masculine disputes when an area to engage in fisticuffs wasn't available, or one of the parties was a scardy cat who wanted to go hide behind his mother's apron.
In the latter case, which was painful for all good men to witness, the man with the bigger feathers or growled louder would establish domination and start rubbing it in, then with the kind heart that all apex kings of the jungle possess, would then deliver a humiliating reprimand to, as men would say, "Force the woosy to man up for his own good."
Such is the crowning mercy of a true mansplainer!
So before 1923, the main people who mewed criticism of mansplaining were the 99.9999 percent of the male population who were physically and emotionally dominated by their betters and didn't like it any more than women did in modern times but had to put up with it unless they were willing to trade butchy blows in old fashioned trial by combat.
Since most men were raised to take orders from superior studs, there were no complaints about this egalitarian system until women began to speak up.
The actual term mansplaining wasn't used until 19213 A.D. when men were shocked to discover that women weren't voice-activated and could indeed speak and, after being given the right to vote, had to be talked to just like any other man.
Which for females, of course, meant being mansplained, except that the Apex Rulers of Bro Culture gave all men the right to perform this act with women to provide a salve for the bruised egos that are endemic to those who are expected to take crap from their betters.
Also, the unofficial Congress of Bros in 19330 A.D. passed the "Statute Of Mansplain," which restricted women to that one word. It required terms like womanizer, selfish lover, minute rice, small penis owner, fart machine, toilet seat bandit, mama's boy, Peter Pan, butt grabber, titty hawk, one week with same socks and shorts, adulterer, and similar descriptive definitions to remain as terms of endearment and such men to be considered cute and irresistible to babes.
The U.S. Constitution and Bill Of Rights, passed in 1776 but still haven't been ratified by the Internet, specify that mansplaining is protected speech. Any woman using that label can be safely ignored by any man with real cajones, as a woman's right to be listened to is still stuck in some obscure committee in Congress, and thus, as with a tree falling the forest, it's not clear to men that the term is even spoken aloud, though accounts on Conspiracy Web Sites assert that it is part of the secret Feminine language Professor Ivy describes in her Autobiography on Kindle Vella, and the first three chapters are free across all devices.
In conclusion, Professor Ivy states in her monumental tome, "Litter Boxes Are For Sissies," that "Though the emergence of the term mansplaining has liberated women and men who can't stand up for themselves, the evil within is a voracious beast that hides and comes out to prey upon our primordial instincts and makes us eat bread with gluten and too much sugar."
[Note: I'm not sure what Ivy's last quote means. It was written by Mimee, The A.I. Blog Generator, after inputting the term "Inspiring Literary Closing Statement." I'm not sure the late Professor would know either, but it's assumed the algorithm scraped examples of her works to create the admittedly florid conclusion. Please address all questions and trolling to Mimee]
Vella Link To All Episodes:
BE SURE TO CHECK OUT THE DELTA SNAKE REVIEW ON THIS SAME SITE!
Here's an update on each of my Vella books:
The Quitters
https://www.amazon.com/kindle-vella/story/B09PC3L6PC
It's the first book, and after ten months, it's finally developing an audience, and the stats are trending upward this month. I think it's due to the blog and the new book/music video short format I'm using for its promotion. I’ve moved the plot lines away from potentially over technical descriptions of playing live to more emphasis on the personalities and in particular, the main character Nym. Also, some of the romance elements are now coming into play.
It's at 31 episodes, though as an ebook, we're talking maybe 15 traditional-length chapters. I'm keeping the format episodic and short, kind of like a weekly TV show, which works for Vella but will need to be restructured for the ebook.
I, Ivy
https://www.amazon.com/kindle-vella/story/B0B3RCBT4D
The story got off to a decent start, but I didn't notice that as it's obvious now that the daily totals on the Vella dashboard can differ or not jibe with the monthly or overall total, which have to be accurate as those numbers determine the royalty and bonus payouts. I'll be paying more attention to this one in November, as it’s being read more than I thought. The latest chapter, Ivy’s view of the efforts by a human to give her a pill should strike a familiar chord.
This is a new one, though it'll be the most familiar to blog readers. I'll be changing the format of the blog in November, and putting the Lost Gospels here will allow me to fully expand that line of humor and satire in a way that simply being a blog feature doesn't permit.
The Boogie Underground Think Tank: How To Survive The End Of Civilization
https://www.amazon.com/kindle-vella/story/B0BG6LNXTG
This one is a revival of an old humor column I ran in my old "Delta Snake Blues News" publication in the 90s and 2000s. The slant is about survival in the upcoming hard times, but it really will be topical and cover subjects that are offbeat but relevant. The next one coming in a few days will be "How To Shop For The Perfect Expert," which obviously will be a humorous commentary on the use of experts in general.
The ebook “On The Road With Al & Ivy: The Anthology Volume 1 2016-2018 is now on Kindle Unlimited!
I’ll run free promotions later this month, but members can read it for free now.
Please check out and listen to my music on Spotify, YouTube, Apple Music and other music sites. Please add any cuts you like to your playlists!
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