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JamesSavik

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Blog Entries posted by JamesSavik

  1. JamesSavik
    On your trip to the Gulf Coast here are some local delicacies you will want to try.

    A "boat" of Crawfish- consists of crawfish, corn on the cob, onions and red potatoes boiled in a mixture of cajun spices.

    Gumbo- is a soup that has shrimp, crab meat, fish and it is often served over rice. There is a great deal of variation in the recipe so it is a little different at every place that serves it. You can have a big bowl as a meal or a cup as an appetizer.

    Red Beans & rice- this is an old New Orleans favorite. It is usually served with sausage but if it ain't andouie sausage, it is considered heresy and the bishop of New Orleans will excommunicate you.

    Shrimp Po-boy- the po-boy is a New Orleans style sandwich on French or Sourdough bread served with fires or slaw. There are all sorts of po-boys but shrimp is my favorite. Other popular ones are chicken, roast beef, oyster and crawfish. This is a quickie lunch you'll remember for a while.

    Creole Style seafood platter- this is a fairly typical seafood platter done in creole style featuring redfish, stuffed crab, scallops, shrimp and oysters.
  2. JamesSavik

    Summer Fun

    By JamesSavik,

    A little something that I'm doing for fun:
    I have created a wordpress blog and am featuring various classic rock groups and their music.
    There's a treasure of videos on Youtube. I've just saved you the trouble of sorting through all of the rubbish.
    Have a look. There's some great stuff there.
    I might even write the story of why I don't listen to Emerson, Lake & Palmer anymore. (It has a lot to do with a gymnast from New Orleans named Mark.)
    Cool Old Videos
  3. JamesSavik
    the Second Time Around
    1978
    I first met Randy when we were sixteen. I met him at Frank's house- a guy from my football team that I screwed around with from time to time. He enticed me to come over by telling me about a kid from his neighborhood that wanted to join in.
    Randy was a shy kid. He wasn't big or athletic or a jock. He was cute and a lot more feminine than most of the guys I previously messed around with. What caught my attention was his bright, intelligent blue eyes.
    Frank treated him like a hooker. He grabbed Randy by his hair, shoved his cock in his mouth and started f**king his face and saying, "You like that don't you little bitch."
    I was appalled and said, "Dude, be cool."
    Frank was enjoying being rough and looked at me like I was nuts. "Don't tell me you're soft on this little faggit?"
    Randy got off of Frank's cock (which was not that long a trip) and said, "It's cool. I wouldn't let him do it like that if we hadn't known each other since diapers."
    Even at 16 I had seen some humiliating shit and treating people that way was a real turn off so I left the room. A few minutes later after Frank got his 2 minute nut, he joined me on the back porch for a smoke.
    I asked, "Where's Randy?"
    "He didn't think that you liked him so he left."
    Shaking my head I said, "It's not that. I just don't like seeing people treated that way."
    "I don't get you man. You're one of the roughest guys I know but you are so different with your clothes off."
    I grinned at him and said, "Better or worse?"
    "Better I guess."
    "Look man, I need to go. I'll see you later."
    Frank just laughed and said, "Randy's house is up towards Castle Hills."
    I drove my Grand Prix up the road to Castle Hills and I approached him from behind. He was tall and skinny wearing white tennis shorts, a crimson Alabama t-shirt and flip-flops.
    I drove up beside him and said, "Hey!"
    He jumped. He wasn't expecting me and gave me a wild eyed expression.
    I said, "You want to ride around?"
    He smiled, opened the passenger side door and got in. "Where you want to go?"
    I said, "Sometimes it ain't the destination, it's the ride."
    I drove to a nearby wooded lake and parked.
    He looked at me and said, "I didn't think you liked me back at Frank's."
    "That's not it. It was the way Frank treated you. I didn't like it. Do you want to smoke a joint?"
    Randy grinned and looked at me.
    I pulled out a joint and lit it. Feeling a little self-conscious, I said, "What?"
    Randy said, "You're not at all what I expected."
    I took a drag and passed it. "What did you expect?"
    "Another one of Frank's half-wit jock f**k-buddies who wants a blow job."
    "I like blow jobs."
    Randy took a drag and coughed. "Well, who doesn't. I mean there's more to you than that."
    I took the joint and said, "Thanks."
    Randy said, "For the joint?"
    I let my hit out and said, "No. Thanks for noticing. I have to be this ass kicking jock redneck to... I don't know. Survive? Fit in? Mostly to keep people from f**king with me. That's what I have to be. What I am, inside, where it matters, they can't have it. That's for me and the people I chose to share it with."
    Randy took the joint. I noticed he was looking a little stoned. He said something incredible. Something deep that I had longed to hear. He said, "I understand" and I believed him.
    I said, "So, would you like to see more of the real me?"
    He smiled and said, "I believe that I would."
    I got out of the car and pulled a blanket out of the trunk. We walked to a sunny clearing in the woods where I made love to Randy, gently and with respect. Afterwards we just lay there naked in the afternoon sun and talked for hours.
    I found out that quickly being Randy's boyfriend would just not work. A hood, stoner, thug like me and a preppy like Randy came from entirely different worlds. His mother would never accept me. My parents would never accept and effeminate guy being around me. However, over the next three years, we shared those worlds on occasion until life happened and took us in different directions.

    _____________________________________________________________________________
    2010
    I had not seen or heard from Randy in years when he friend requested me a few months ago on Facebook.
    Things started slow. We had both been down a lot of dark and lonely roads. Randy's long time mate David and my Jeff had both died of AIDS in 1996. We had both survived more than thrived. He's been sober and in AA for three years. I've been clean and sober in NA for five years.
    We both know that we're carrying a shitload of baggage and that we're both damaged goods but for some reason that doesn't seem to matter.
    Youthful passion and white hot lust have given way to happy familiarity. We talk more than we have sex which is something new and completely alien for me.
    Maybe we have a chance to have something we both missed because of the times and attitudes and culture.
    Maybe we have a chance to grow together, heal each other and walk away from the searing pain of our pasts.
    Maybe we have a chance to have some good years and not have to walk alone.
    I'm damned sure that we're both due for a change for the better.
    Who knows. Maybe we'll get it right the second time around.
  4. JamesSavik

    What's your sign???

    By JamesSavik,

    I'm a MEH...

    Traditional
    MEH Traits

    grouchy and surly
    enthusiastically apathetic
    mean and a little evil
    was drunk and disorderly, now clean & sober without an excuse
    would rather be fishing

    On the dark side....

    makes postal workers look sane and stable
    asks hookers for refunds on bad sex
    fantasizes about beating people to death with a claw hammer
    cheered when shouting tv huckster and coke head Billy Mayes died like a dog
    screws televangelists, publishes videos on u-tube for kicks

    Famous MEH's in history

    Stewie Griffin

    Dr. Evil

    300 pound dumb ass wearing a "No Fat Chicks" t-shirt
  5. JamesSavik

    Gay Challenged

    By JamesSavik,

    How can I say this without being offensive?
    If gay people went to gay school, I would ride the gay short bus.
    I must be the most incompetent gay man in North America.
    I would rather hunt than shop.
    When I'm in a new city, I check out the hardware stores to see if they have magical kung-fu tools that I've never seen before.
    My wardrobe has more in common with Walmart and Target than Pierre Cardin or Brooks Brothers.
    I drive a truck with a big steel toolbox that has everything in it that I would need to build a space shuttle in the field out of spare parts.
    I'd rather watch Monday Night Football than Desperate Housewives. If forced to watch Desperate Housewives or any musical, I would probably chew off an arm or a leg to escape.
    My GayDar is a defunct East German model that Boy George wouldn't set off.
    I hate gay bars because they play music that makes me want to hurl and I've got better in my truck. *listening to Stone Temple Pilots*
    Several Home Depots and Lowes have my picture in the back and send me Christmas cards.
    I would be more likely to decorate your house with a potato gun than track lighting.
    When I'm bored, I take my tools out, clean, oil and organize them.
    Mexicans don't like it when I'm on a construction site because I work too hard and make them look bad.
    If I don't show up at my local Borders at least once a month, they call my house to make sure I'm all right.
    One of my favorite possessions is a Makita Reciprocating Saw I call Shiva, destroyer of worlds.

    I like cats buts it's because they have enough attitude to draw blood and don't brown-nose.
    I cook but if I did not, I wouldn't eat. Who would feed me? Yo mama? *laughs hysterically at cleverly inserting a yo mama joke*
    I cruise Home Depot. :lmao:
    Who needs to work out when you work hard?
    I got carded when I bought smokes last week.
    I get cruised by "old men", get annoyed and realize that we're the same age.
    I am in no shape, form or fashion what some people might call fabulous.
    I am in the best shape of my life while people that I went to high school with look like shit.
    I declare myself the winner.
  6. JamesSavik
    I was pleased to land the contract: 30 stores from July to mid-August. As far as contracts go it was modest but for a solo operator like me it was just right.
    I got the package in the last week of June that covered the stores and the scope of work. I was expected to come up with a schedule. The contract was administered by a nation-wide systems integrator that I had worked with from time to time. They would be skimpy on the hours but as long as I was good about documenting the expenses, things would work out just fine.
    I wanted to do a couple of the closest stores first to get an idea of what was involved so I scheduled Jackson for Monday, Pearl Tuesday and Yazoo City for Wednesday. After doing three, I would know what to expect. I scheduled Biloxi and Gulfport for Thursday and Friday so I would have an excuse to spend a night on the coast.
    Monday morning I showed up at Graybar Electric and purchased the supplies that I needed and headed off to do the Jackson store. It turned out to be a wiring nightmare. Whoever had set up the network had either been on acid or just planned on making a mess. I spent three hours fixing the mess and finally got down to installing the new equipment and upgrades. Total time on sit: a little over 8 hours. It was hard, physical hot work. A lot of the cabling is done in the attic or crawl spaces. I got everything working and discovered that the sites could be a real mess.
    The Pearl store was easy. It was under good management and wasn't nearly the mess that the Jackson store had been. I got 5 1/2 hours.
    Yazoo City was difficult because of the building. Pulling wire through that monster solo was like trying to use dental floss on a Saber toothed tiger. I got 8 hours and felt like the building had fallen on me by the time I was done.
    I was looking forward to Thursday. I hadn't spent any real time on the coast since Katrina and I wanted to see how things were. I left my home in Byram at 6am, had breakfast in Magee and arrived in Biloxi a little before 10:00. The Biloxi store turned out to be a piece of cake. It was newly rebuilt since the hurricane and I was able to get the wiring and equipment in four hours.
    After I finished up, I grabbed a late lunch at Lil Ray's Po-Boys in Gulfport and checked into a hotel north of I-10 to avoid the beach front premium. When I arrived I stowed my gear in the room, cleaned up and drove around Biloxi and Gulfport to explore.
    Keesler Air Force Base sits right in between Biloxi and Gulfport and Thursday they were putting on quite a show. I saw F-15 Eagles, F-16 Falcons and A-10 Warthogs flying over all day.
    Both towns took a horrible beating during Katrina. There are still a lot of empty spaces on the beach where hotels, resterants and amusements used to be and have not returned. Many of the places that I remember are just gone. What is there is brand new and the areas off the beach are growing wild. Pass road which runs parallel and a quarter mile off the beach is wall to wall business.
    I ate supper at Claw Daddies in Gulfport and had Cajun styled crawfish for supper. It was great.
    After supper I went back to the hotel room and did paperwork for a while. I put on my swimsuit and decided to cool off in the pool and sit in the hot tub for a while. When I arrived at the pool it was obvious that the Air Force had landed. They were all over the place hanging out. I turned out that they were performing manuvers that day.
    I got out of the pool and sat in the hot tub for a while. The Air Force guys were talking about the days work. They were working on SAM suppression and everything was electronic. By 10 most of the Air Force had vanished. I went to the room and went to sleep.
    The next morning I packed my gear and got to work on the Gulfport store. It was new too and I was done by 2. After I was done, I packed the truck and headed home. I stopped for a sandwich in Hattiesburg and was home by six.
  7. JamesSavik
    [first published Dec. 2007]
    When AIDS first appeared, here in Mississippi peoples attitudes were, like every social trend, it won't come here for another twenty years. Unfortunately for a lost generation, they were dead wrong. People started dying in 85. By 1990 the numbers were actually alarming.
    In 82 & 83, the HIV virus hadn't even been isolated yet. It acted like a virus but science had never dealt with a retro-virus before. CDC nor anyone else in the medical community knew enough about HIV/AIDS to state anything definitive about it. It appeared to be a virus. It appeared to be sexually transmitted. It appeared to have a long incubation period before the immune system collapsed. It appeared that those who were infected were contagious from four to ten years before before they got sick.
    However- at the time no one actually had the smoking gun. Various entities had pieces of the puzzle but bureaucratic rivalries and wrangling by Nobel prize hungry scientists kept many of these institutions from working together or even sharing data. No one in the various health bureaucracies would risk their reputation by making recommendations or issuing guidelines.
    In 1984 I worked with an all volunteer team at the University of Southern Mississippi to create a mathematical model of the HIV/AIDS epidemic. The results were frightening. Given a geometric growth rate and an average seven year contagious latency period, our model showed that by the 1990s, infections with HIV/AIDS would be in the 10's of millions in the United States alone. We had difficulty publishing our findings. Many journals wanted nothing to do with AIDS, some commented that it was alarmist while others accused us of fear mongering. I left USM in June of 1984 and the results were finally published by a European Infectious Diseases Journal in early 1985.
    Worse yet, opportunists like Pat Robinson and Jerry Falwell were preaching that HIV/AIDS was the righteous wrath of an angry God inflicted on homosexuals who had no one to blame but themselves.
    Culturally AIDS could not have happened at a worse time. The sexual liberation of the sixties came full circle in the seventies. Gay people were more accepted than at anytime before. Record numbers of people were leaving the closet with no intention of ever going back. Part of that liberation was a permissiveness about sex that by todays standards is shocking. Every big city (and even some smaller ones) had gay bars, caf?'s, gyms and spas where a great deal of high-risk behavior was going on. Gay people who had been browbeaten for generations for their sexual activities saw any attempt at closing these venues as a step back-wards. Especially considering in the early days of the epidemic, science offered no definitive answers.
    The AIDS epidemic became a huge political football. Republicans wanted nothing to do with it. The sitting president, Ronald Reagen (80-88) did not even say the word AIDS in public until 1988- a full eight years and a half million dead into the epidemic. No issue suffered as much grandstanding from the right and glad-handing from the left. In the early years of the epidemic, congress and the President killed any research appropriation that had the word AIDS attached. CDC got smart and eventually asked for research money for emerging infectious diseases. The first few years CDC had less than $100,000 earmarked for AIDS research. Congress earmarked exactly NO funds for AIDS research- most of CDC's funds came from private collections. The CDC's first million dollar year for AIDS research was 1984. The director of the CDC was accused of lying to congress and almost sacked.
    In the summer of 1984 my long-time partner and I had a conversation about AIDS and monogamy. Like many people, he didn't see the danger. No one was sick. We lived 2 hours away from each other and had never required monogamy from each other. I saw what was coming and there was simply no future in the status quo. We broke up.
    When I graduated in 1986, AIDS deaths were hidden in the papers by a perverse code. The obituaries listed the cause of death. Not since the advent of anti-biotics had so many young men in their late teens to early thirties died of pneumonia. In those days Pneumocystic pneumonia was the primary killer. TB, cancer and Cryptococcal meningitis rounded out the top killers.
    The late eighties and early nineties were a little slice of hell. I remember dreading reading the paper because you never knew who what show up dead. A friend, acquaintance or friend of friend. Maybe even that weird but cool guy that works at the one cool record store in town. You can't help but worry about your own status. As soon as there was a test, I took it. It took four weeks for it to come back. I got to the point to where I took a test once a quarter. No one knew how easy or difficult it was to get HIV in those days. It was like having a sniper or invisible stalker after you and your friends. You never knew who was going to disappear and show up dead in the papers a few weeks later. Living with this kind of fear is a horror: sleepless nights, stress, not being able to talk about it. So much death: too much to properly grieve for. The psychological consequences of the epidemic are painful and haunting, even for the healthy. Survivors like myself often ask why did I live when so many others died?
    Much of the social progress made by gay people over the years "rolled back". The fear inspired by a dreaded, incurable mystery disease that was 100% fatal revived the bigotry that had been a thing of the past. Landlords didn't want gay tenets. Schools were afraid of HIV positive students. Many employers looked for any possible excuse to fire gay employees for fear that they would develop AIDS and wreak their health care budget.
    Things are better today. Better medicine, better health care, etc. But HIV is still out there and we still can't cure it. It is now like a chronic disease that can be held in check by drugs but you are never really "cured". We as gay people have to understand that we live in a different world. It's not the seventies anymore. Free love ain't free. In fact, it can cost you everything.
  8. JamesSavik
    Cajun style seafood platter- this is a Cajun style seafood platter. The difference? Mostly in the spicing, the breading and the portions. The old joke is "serves 1 cajun or 3 ordinary people".

    Raw oysters it takes some courage to eat the first one but you'll finish the plate! Serves with cocktail sauce, horseradish and lemon.

    Dixie beer. What else can I say?

    Here is the old Dixie beer brewery on Tulane Avenue in New Orleans.
  9. JamesSavik
    With me the Muses show up at 3 in the morning: drunk, mean and abusive.
    They slap me around for a while, tease me and leave me with just enough of a taste to really want it. Then, like like the whores that they are, they take off to torment other starving authors.
    Damn you Greek byaches! Why do you toy with me so? Why do you give me shreds of lots of stories but never a complete one? Why are you so hot and always leave before we finish? Grrr!
    I would roll over, go back to sleep and say forget about it but, like the codependent putz that I am, here I am again, at my keyboard. Wishing, hoping, longing for the gifts of the muses and cursing their cruel and fickel jests and infidelities.
    Some day I am going to fool them! I will figure out how to capture one and imprison it on the page.
    I desire to conspire to imprison that which inspires and out of this madness, and uninspired sadness bring about some linguistic gladness.
    Beware muses, I am hunting you. Your flirtations will be your undoing.
  10. JamesSavik

    Cat Parole

    By JamesSavik,

    I decided to board my cat during my Thank giving trip to Texas at the vet but I waited too late. My usual vet was full. I had to shop around to find him a space. He doesn't travel well and gets horrible gas when he's anxious.
    I was down to the wire and desperate. I begged my usual Vet for a referral list. Tuesday I went down the list. Animal Medical Center? No vacancy. Sullivan's Animal Hospital? No Vacancy. Cat Hospital? No vacancy.
    OK it's closing in on 4:00 and I'm getting desperate. No way am I driving to Dallas with flatulent kitty. Two 80 year olds are enough of a challenge.
    I arrive unceremoniously at the Bottom of the List: The Doggie Discipline Academy.
    When I show up, I go inside with cat in carrier and am met by a gung-ho guy with short hair and entirely too much energy.
    I say, "I'm going away for Thanksgiving and need to board my cat until Monday. Can you hook me up"
    "Sir Yes Sir! We run $15 bucks a day."
    I fork over the cash and the cat carrier and I'm off.
    Monday Morning- 5 days later
    I picked up Boo this morning. He was playing a harmonica. I'm not sure whether it is the dragon tattoo or his cold, hard stair that is most unnerving. It'll be quite a while before his tail is unpuffed.
  11. JamesSavik

    Fear & Loathing

    By JamesSavik,

    12/27/2006
    I've got this little problem. It's called Traumatic Glaucoma. Granted anything that can make you go blind is pretty traumatic in itself but this refurs to a specific type of glaucoma that occurs sometimes many years after blunt force type injury to the eyes.
    Like getting punched in the eyes.
    My teen years were particulary difficult. I was outted at the age of 13 the summer before 7th grade started in a redneck town in Mississippi. By my count I've had twenty something concussions, 6 broken bones, my right knee had to be reconstructed. There were a couple of times I came really close to dying. I live with pain all the time.
    Forgive me if I'm a little twitchy. I've got Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Whenever I'm in a room, I look for something that would serve as a weapon and an exit- just in case. I have nightmares so bad that I can't sleep in the same bed with another person.
    I try not to get too caught up in this crap. It's depressing and painful to think about it. For years I drank or smoked enough weed to pass out every night. I've been clean and sober since the October before last. I've been taking better care of myself.
    That's how my eye condition was diagnosed. A little background.
    What's bugging me is that Jan. 4th I have another appointment to see how my eyes are doing and I'm just plain scared.
    That's hard for me. The way I survived for many years was to NOT show fear. If I did, I was a goner. I learned to survive by fighting dirtier than the people that were tormenting me. I learned to ignore a tremendous amount of pain so that I could dish it out.
    I hate being afraid. It sucks big time. What's worse is that it makes me angry to think of WHY I've got this problem. I don't like how I feel and I'm not sure what to do about it.
    I want to get high but I can't. That shit was slowly destroying my life. I want to drink myself into a stupor but that isn't going to help either.
    It's hard to carry this kind of stuff around inside this time of year with the holidays and all. I don't like what I'm feeling but all I can do is let it ride.
  12. JamesSavik
    12/5/2007
    One Enchanted Evening...
    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    It was a magical night in September, hot but not oppressive. The Gulf breezes were not the only charm that Biloxi offered. The ancient majestic oaks and palms swayed in unison to the surf. Alive, green and red with oleander and crocosmia blooming brilliantly along the shore.
    We drove down on a Friday evening, just the two of us. We arrived at the Biloxi Hilton and took our bags up to the room on the seventh floor. It had one charm above all else: a balcony overlooking the Gulf and the sound and smell of the gentle fall surf.
    The two of us were anxious. Not knowing, expectant like two children awaiting the arrival of Christmas; not knowing if we had been naughty or nice. Was this the night?
    We dressed and went to dinner at a little seafood restaurant a block down the beach. We had a dozen raw oysters for an appetizer and washed them down with Dixie beer. We talked about nothing searching each others eyes. I had scallops and you had shrimp. We shared, quite unable to discern which was the better of the two.
    We stayed there until the drinks began to make us yawn. You said something about getting up tomorrow to see the town. I dropped a fifty on the table to cover our check.
    The walk back to the hotel you stumbled but I caught you. Somehow my arm just stayed around your shoulder like it belonged there like the sea or the sand.
    We arrived in the room for the plat de r?sistance: champaign, Rothschild 1977.
    Two glasses on the balcony. The moonlight, the timeless symphony of the surf, the songs of the gulls: your head on my shoulder- our first kiss I will remember forever. [/color]

    Oleander
  13. JamesSavik
    I don't know where it came from or who started it but many young men in our area like to wear low hanging jeans that expose a lot more than is traditional.
    This afternoon I was changing the oil in my truck and I saw a local kid walking by. He had been playing basketball up the hill and was wearing very low hanging shorts and had his shirt draped over his shoulder. He was walking like he was the coolest thing since James Dean and then disaster struck: his shorts fell down around his ankles exposing the fashionable boxer shorts that he was wearing.
    I suppressed the urge to burst out laughing and didn't stare- except out of the corner of my eye: as he turned a peculiar shade of glowing red as he dove to retrieve his way-ward shorts.
    I am not one to revel in the discomfort of others but the split-second transition from Joe-cool to Joe-mortified was one of the funniest things I've seen in a long time and will keep me chuckling for days.

    It appears that high fashion can be somewhat hazardous these days. We won't tell them that its a tad homo-erotic; that will be our little secret.
  14. JamesSavik
    Some eighties muzak I remember...
    the Fixx- Saved by Zero


    the Cars- All Mixed Up
    The Cars- Moving in Stereo

    Rolling Stones- Miss You
    Eric Clapton- Cocaine
    Supertramp- the Logical Song
    Supertramp- Goodbye Stranger



    The Police- Roxanne
    The Police- Don't Stand So Close to Me


    The Babies- Midnight Rendevous
    Blondie- Call Me


    Pink Floyd- Comfortable Numb
    Cyndi Lauper- Girls Just Want to have Fun


    Eurythmics- Here Comes the Rain Again



  15. JamesSavik

    1996

    By JamesSavik,

    1996
    I have seen the fire
    Destroying everything in it path
    In its blazing wrath
    I have seen the fire
    Bringing terror as its might
    As it consumes the night
    I have seen the fire
    Slaying friends and lovers
    Strangers and brothers
    I have seen the fire.
    Out of control consumning souls
    Hell on earth a mass funeral pyre
    I have been burned by the fire
    With scars that don't show
    The loss it still burns and stings
    Friends and lovers I can not replace
    I am haunted by their familiar faces
    ashes and memories that I hold dear
    Are all thats left of those times and places
    I have seen the fire and the funeral pyre
    When I saw the lights go out on my generation
    And horror and confusion gripped the nation
    Consumed in a viral conflagration
    I look to my right and look to my left
    at the lonely, empty spaces
    I walk where we walked and talk where we talked
    in the lonely empty places
    and wonder to my self why am I still here
    the smoke it still stings my eyes
    Someone must be left to remember
    The year that innocence died.
  16. JamesSavik
    A friend and fellow author that I have a great deal of respect and admiration for is having a crisis of confidence. I will not name him but I too have suffered from this type of criticism. Some people can not tell a plot element from an endorsement.
    When a murder occurs in a story, is the author endorsing murder?
    When drug use happens in a story, is the author glorifying it?
    Silly questions?
    As authors, I believe that the interesting stories are told on the edge. Somewhere on the border of normalcy and madness there is a place where drama comes from. That place can be mundane or high brow. It can be common or rare. It is about people in conflict facing adversity and without it our stories are just so much soggy granola.
    I have read stories that glorify drug use. I know what they are when I see 'em. Yawn. I have read stories that are nothing more than a common masturbation fantasy typed with one hand. Snore. You know what they have in common? They are simply not interesting.
    Touchy subjects can be addressed if the author handles it right. If you start reading a story and stop four chapters in because a character smokes a joint, then you don't know what happens in the other umpteen chapters. You miss the character suffering negative consequences like failed relationships and hanging out with a lower class of people. You miss him getting busted and asking himself what's wrong with me. You miss out on that characters chance at redemption or his fall into jails, institutions or death.
    So you see something about a story that makes you uncomfortable. GET OVER IT.
    Here's YOUR chance to look at situations that you would never chose to face without getting your hands dirty. Here's your chance to experience things vicariously that would cost you body, soul or life to experience and maybe... avoid, identify with or recover from or perhaps have empathy for people who have actually been there.
    An author is NOT his work. At his best an author is a catalyst to help the reader see and understand with different eyes. At his worst he is a propagandist or a pornographer. It is up to the reader to make this determination for himself. If there is truth in his work and an author has applied his craft with heart, then the work will stand or fall on its own merit. As an author all that I ask is that you think for yourself.
    -JS
  17. JamesSavik

    Aug. 9, 1942

    By JamesSavik,

    Aug. 9, 1942
    The United States and her Allies are on their heels in the Pacific. Japan looks invincible. From December until June, Japanese forces had over run Wake, Guam, the Philippines, Java, Malaysia, the Caroline Islands, the Marshall Islands,
    Everything had been going Japan's way up until they were turned back at the Battle of the Coral Sea and were defeated soundly at Midway on Jun 4th.
    The United States and her allies Great Britain and Australia decided on a time and place to launch their first offensive. The time: August, 1942. The place was an island that no one had ever heard of in the Solomon Islands called Guadalcanal.
    Nimitz staff called it Operation Watchtower. The men of the 1st Marine Division called it Operation Shoestring: everything was a mixture of WWI leftovers, troops and specialists gathered from as far away as British Isle and a collection of aircraft that were overdue for retirement for the most part. The navy put together the best cruiser/destroyer force that it could and gathered up as many transports as they could find.
    On August 7th, the Marines landed on Guadalcanal. They surprised a small Japanese advanced force of engineers that had already landed on the island and were preparing an airfield. The land battle for the island was joined. The Marines were equipped with old WWI era Enfield rifles and were under-strength in machine guns.
    Guadalcanal, like most of the Solomon Islands is a rugged and dominated by thick jungle, miserable swamps and malaria carrying mosquitoes. Over the years it had been home to an aborted sugar plantation, a way station, a mission, a trading post and finally an Australian cattle ranch.
    When the Marines landed they found themselves in a fast moving fire fight with an enemy that was not prepared or dug in. Both sides found themselves short on supplies. They raided the barbed wire fences of the cattle plantation for materials to build their perimeter with. In a series of actions, the Marines and the Japanese fought a number of small unit battles- and one that both sides had to call off because of a cattle stampede.
    Over the next day the Marines continued landing troops, supplies, artillery and combat engineers. They established a firm bridgehead and formed a firm perimeter around the unfinished airfield.
    The Japanese were not sitting on their hands. The same day of the invasion, area commander Admiral Mikawa dispatched two fast transports with crack Naval Special Landing Force but recalled them when reconnaissance determined the scale of the allied incursion. Frustrated, he had to wait a day to fuel his ships and gather his forces to attempt to repel the invasion.
    At Guadalcanal the US Navy continued with support activities and continued to unload transports onto the beachhead. At night on August 8th, Admiral Turner's Task Force 62 and Australian Rear-Admiral Victor A.C. Crutchley's combined support/escort force broke into three groups: a Northern force to cover the pass north of Savo Island, A Southern force to cover the pass south of Savo island and a pair of destroyers to cover to Weatern approaches.
    Northern Force: cruisers USS Vincennes, USS Astoria and USS Quincy, and destroyers USS Helm and USS Wilson
    Southern Force: cruisers HMAS Australia and HMAS Canberra, cruiser USS Chicago, and destroyers USS Patterson and USS Bagley
    Western Screen: destroyers USS Talbot and Blue
    Mikawa set sail from Rabaul in the heavy cruiser Chokai, light cruisers Tenryu and Yubari and the destroyer Yunagi. They rendezvoused with Admiral Goto's Cruiser Division 6 composed of heavy cruisers Aboa, Kinugasa, Kako and Furutaka. Their goal: to take on the US Navy in a night action.

    Mikawa's Approach.
    The US Navy was just deploying radar on their ships but the first generation sets were unreliable and there were few technicians and no experienced operators.
    Mikawa's run down the body of water that would come to be known as "the Slot" was undetected- or at least unreported. Australian seaplanes spotted the ships as did the US sub S-38 but this information did not make it to Admiral Turner's staff.

    US Navy identification page for Mikawa's flagship the Chokai.
    The Japanese arrived just before midnight and slipped past the destroyer Blue and savaged the Southern Force, turned North and savaged the Northern force and left the area the way that they arrived.

    The Battle of Savo Island
    Japanese long-lance torpedoes destroyed the USS Vincennes, USS Astoria and USS Quincy and damaged the HMAS Canberra so severely, she had to be scuttled. The Chicago was severely damaged but she would fight again.

    The USS Quincy (CA-39) days before the battle.
    The submarine S-44 exacted a bit of payback sinking the cruiser Kako as she retired to her home base at Kavieng.
    It was the worst defeat in US Navy history in a stand up fight. The Navy lost 1,207 men: more men than than the Marines lost during the entire 6 month campaign.
    This battle was the beginning of a six month long air, land and sea campaign that turned out to be a meat grinder for both sides. The body of water around Savo Island was nicknamed "Ironbottom sound" and would be the scene of several pitched naval battles. The Guadalcanal campaign became a battle of attrition and by the time Japan gave up on recapturing the island in early '43, much of her naval power, best commanders and army units had been expended.
    In 1943 the US Navy court of inquiry was held called the Hepburn Investigation. Only one officer was singled out for offical censure- the captain of one of the cruisers. He killed himself when he learned of the boards results.
    The board stopped short of calling for action against Admirals Fletcher, Turner, McCain, and Crutchley who went on to perform brilliantly later in the war.
    The board of inquiry determined that US ships required more training in night fighting and training and standardization of radar equipment.
    Both radar picket ships (radar range about 10 miles) were at the extreme ends of their patrols sailing away from the Japanese fleet. San Juan had modern search radar, but was at the other end of the Sound.
    After the war, Admiral Turner wrote:
    The (U.S.) Navy was still obsessed with a strong feeling of technical and mental superiority over the enemy. In spite of ample evidence as to enemy capabilities, most of our officers and men despised the enemy and felt themselves sure victors in all encounters under any circumstances. The net result of all this was a fatal lethargy of mind which induced a confidence without readiness, and a routine acceptance of outworn peacetime standards of conduct. I believe that this psychological factor, as a cause of our defeat, was even more important than the element of surprise.
    __________________________________________________________
    The Battle of Savo Island, Wikipedia entry.
    Guadalcanal Frank, Richard B., Penguin, 1993. 0140165614
    The Two Ocean War Morrison, Samuel Eliot US Naval Institute, 1963. 1591145244
    History of US Navyal Operations in World War II: Volume V. The Struggle for Guadalcanal Morrison, Samuel Eliot US Naval Institute, 1949. 0785813063
  18. JamesSavik
    I just finished reading the Pecman's amazing story Jagged Angel and holy cow, what a ride!
    This story is a disturbing mixture of romance, psycological thriller and coming of age story. I found myself thinking that it would make an excellent movie but it would probably cause riots and heart attacks. It was a great story to read around Halloween because it scared the living bejesus out of me.
    This story has everything: romance, sadism, emotional manipulation, fear, emotion- and just when you think that you've got it figured out; the plot careens off in a new unexpected and even more dangerous direction.
    The Pecman knows his business. This story is a thriller that will keep you on the edge of your seat until the very end.
    Just be warned: hold your calls, cancel your appointments. Once you start, you aren't going to get much done.

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