Johnny Gunn Writes

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Saturday, February 6, 2016

A Time For Celebration

According to those that maintain these records, George Washington was born on February 22, a long time ago, and when we travel through the area encompassing the original thirteen colonies, we find that he slept, away from home, as often as possible. For many years, Americans celebrated Washington’s Birthday on his birthday, kind of the way we celebrate our own birthdays.

Then came those with deep sensitivities, worrying about all the other presidents’ personal worth. Are those dear dead presidents feeling left out, unworthy of a birthday celebration, with cake, ice cream, hot dogs, baseball, and Chevrolet? Honest Abe had his day, February 12, but Martin Van Buren didn’t get special treatment. Neither did old Calvin C.

“Well, that’s just terrible,” said the sensitive ones. So, now, all of our calendars still reflect February 12 as Lincoln’s birthday, and February 22 as Washington’s, but now, we have the third Monday to celebrate Presidents’ Day, because as we all are imminently aware, the bounty of the nation rolls on the greased wheels of the retail market.

Thus, the three-day weekend, in which we do everything possible to celebrate the birthdays of each and every president. By spending money, of course. Don’t forget all those hot dogs and Chevrolets.

So, this leads us to a time of reflection, a time to ponder the other three-hundred-million of us whose birthdays are not celebrated by the masses. Where are the sensitive ones now? How horrible it must be for those three-hundred-million not to have their birthday recognized on calendar faces, not to be sung to, danced to, not to have billions of hot dogs eaten, and two Chevies purchased.

It’s time for a change, past time, if you really are a sensitive one. Therefore, I ask, ever so humbly, that we set aside a third Monday, I think April would be a good month for that, to celebrate Americans’ Day. We can, everyone of us, take the day off to reflect deeply, maybe even genuflect deeply, our contribution to the magnificence of America, and eat cake and hot dogs, go to a ballgame, and buy a Chevrolet.

Until next time, read good books and stay regular

Johnny Gunn, member, Western Fictioneers

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Wednesday, January 20, 2016

'Tis The Season

I was sitting in the middle of the living room floor the other day, playing with the dog and feeling sorry for myself. It was the third day of a long series of storms coming through, each bringing snow and rain and snow and rain, all leading to mud, mud, and more mud. Can’t work outside. Can’t play outside.

As I threw the tennis ball for the fiftieth time, and Sparky caught it again, I saw the word Chili, written in snow on a frozen windowpane. My heart leaped, my mouth watered, my tongue burned in anticipation. I love chili. Real chili. Tasty, blazing hot chili.

Chili is an art form, and as in every art form, there are more than five ways to accomplish and create chili as art. Each artist believes his is the best way, and I’m sure you feel yours is best, old Sam there, feels his is best, and I’m rather sure mine is best.

By its very nature, chili is hot, but the best chili is far more flavorful than it is just hot. One can boil a pot of chili peppers and it would be hot, but it takes a combination of fine meats, vegetables, herbs, and chili spices to make a pot of really good chili. Many prefer using dried chilies, some use a mixture of dry and fresh, and of course, others use fresh only.

A pound or two of beef or venison and a pound or two of pork, and don’t trim the fat, that’s where the taste is. A yellow or white onion or three, a bulb of minced garlic, a couple of big cans of stewed tomatoes, half a pound of chilies, and a well seasoned cast iron Dutch oven, and enough beer to allow you the time it takes to simmer that pot, and you will find yourself close to heaven.

I like equal amounts of Serrano and Jalapeño peppers, fresh and minced. Leave the seeds in, thank you. Add a goodly dose of smoked paprika, some crushed cumin and turmeric for the extra zip in flavor.

Cut the meat in one inch or so chunks and brown it in bacon grease. Brown the onions in bacon grease. Use the Dutch oven for this and all that flavor stays where it’s supposed to be. Add the rest of everything and bring the pot to a full rolling boil. Let ‘er boil for a couple of minutes, then reduce the heat to simmer, put the lid on the pot and walk away with that six-pack.

In an hour or so, slowly lift the lid on the pot to savor all those flavors rising so temptingly to your open nostrils, and give the pot a nice stir. Take a large spoon and carefully taste the juices. At this point the hot might be strong, but it’s the other flavors you’re looking for. A little salt? Some more black pepper? Okay, you’ve made the adjustments.

Add two bottles of dark ale, put the lid back on the pot and go back to your six-pack. That pot of chili will be ready to eat in about another two hours, and will be absolutely the best tomorrow, not tonight. A large bowl of chili, some crusty French bread or tortilla chips, and another six-pack and you will have one fine supper. I’ve never had leftovers, but they tell me this can be frozen for use another day.

Until next time, read good books and stay regular.

Johnny Gunn, member, Western Fictioneers

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Thursday, January 7, 2016

Then, Now, and Tomorrow

We said goodbye to 2015 reluctantly around these parts. As some like to say, 2015, you were a good year in many respects. Financially? No, we’ve done a lot better, but building a foundation on which to grow? A big ole yes on that one. It was a wonderful year for my publishing with four books out plus being part of an anthology that became an Amazon best seller.

If we owned our little rancho there would have been many improvements, but leasing something that was a disaster to start with doesn’t give one much impetus, particularly when the actual owner doesn’t give a damn. Patty and I are looking to buy a small rancho somewhere in Nevada this year. That is a major goal. We’re both good with animals and with growing food, and while we don’t consider ourselves among those looking to be fully self sufficient, we plan on coming much closer than we’ve been.

Patty’s business is finally coming into its own. She’s a trucker’s broker and has men and machines moving all over the country, and it is only necessary for her to have phone and Internet service, so we can live almost anywhere. Somewhere in Humboldt County would be about “Damn Good.” If you have ten or more acres that we can get into on the cheap, let me know. Preferably in Nevada and not in Washoe County.

As for me and my publishing? As any writer, I would love to see more reviews of my work, and I refuse to pay for any. That is simply unethical in my opinion, but it certainly is done by many. I’m working on three major projects right now, one a historical fiction piece centered in about 1851, which may or may not develop into a series; a second book in the Jacob Chance, U.S. Marshal series; and a second book in the Simon Sol Dorsey mystery series. The first Dorsey book is currently under review at a publishing house.

If you would like to take a look at any of my current books on the market, click onto my Amazon author’s page, www.amazon.com/author/gunnjohnny. Several people have asked if I plan a sequel to The Quest, and I have that on my list, but not until I finish my current projects. I have enough work spread out in front of me that will have to live to the century mark to get’er done.

With some luck, and the weather people are cooperating, we’ll have a goodly supply of water for growing food this year. A wet fall and early winter are making me anticipate spending hours with seed catalogs, plotting the land we have available, and doing everything I can to not get on the tractor. It would sink past the hubs I think right now. I haven’t had much luck with heritage tomatoes the last few years. Get big healthy plants and little fruit.

Patty loves to can tomatoes, corn, and green beans, and I love to eat those goodies all winter and following spring. Last season was not as fruitful as we wanted, so I’m getting primed for this year. Let there be another ten or twenty feet of snow along the Sierra crest and several inches of rain in the valley, and a goodly supply of diesel for the tractor. That’s not asking for too much is it?

Yeah, 2015 was a fun year and I’m anticipating excitement in 2016. I just hope it’s positive excitement. No more wars, someone with class, integrity, and intellect in the White House, and a strong economy would fill that bill.

Until next time, read good books and stay regular.

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Saturday, January 2, 2016

Dancing With the Marmots

It appears that many of us have made it through the jumble of holiday events and are striving to make 2016 just as preposterous as most previous years. I was looking forward to reading about Jolly Old St. Nick running down some in Washington with his sleigh, but that didn’t happen, so we’ll have to oust the buggers by way of the ballot box

Contrary to what you might read in advertisements from the big box stores, the next holiday of any import is not Valentine’s Day, it is February 2, Ground Hog Day. Because so many now live surrounded by concrete and asphalt, not planting anything past a window garden, Ground Hog Day has lost its significance.

There are two major celestial events that drive the agricultural calendars around the world, winter solstice and summer solstice. Each of those periods of time have been split into the spring equinox and autumnal equinox. Spring for planting, autumn for harvest. The old legends about burrowing and hibernating animals coming out into the world to see what’s going on sometime around February two on our current means to detailing a year, was used by old timers to determine whether or not winter might end early.

There are thirteen weeks, give or take a day or two, between December 21 and March 21, and you might check this out, February two just happens at the halfway mark. Calendar-wise, there will be six weeks before the actual beginning of spring, but as we all know, spring can show its beauty and wonder a little early. Those in agriculture are always hoping for that early spring without a late frost, to get a head start on growing.

For the most part, we depend on the grocery store for our victuals, but some legends and traditions have a serous side and Ground Hog Day is one of them. An early start on corn meant you would have stalks up when the early rains came, and that would fill the bin for next winter. Getting those beans sprouted early meant a long summer crop, which meant a full larder for next winter.

So, I say, let’s party. To hell with the box stores and their Valentine’s Day promotions, lets all go out and do a dance with the neighborhood Marmot, and get the seeds separated and ready for an early planting. That is, after our nice heavy snow fall here in the west, wends its way into our ground water system so we can sprinkle that large crop all summer.

When we’re tired and muddy from all our dancing, it will then be time to look for our favorite Valentine. I have mine and her name is Patty. We’ll dance with the marmots and then, St. Valentine, you better get ready for some serious early spring-time romance.

Until next time, read good books and stay regular.

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Wednesday, December 30, 2015

And so, we start over...

We made it through Christmas, at least in our family. Hope yours was fine. Now, we have to give some thought to the future and what it might or might not hold for us. A time for reflection, but more to the point, a time for introspection, and possibly a time for hope.

A look back at 2015 and there are shards of pleasure mixed with the detritus of misery, which is pretty much life anyway. Glancing into the future, through a glass darkly? Or not.

What a bleak time we might have at the polls come November if our only choice is a liar vs an egomaniac/narcissist. More than three hundred million people and this is the best we have? I will not, under any circumstances vote for Hillary, and I will not, under any circumstances vote for The Donald. These two simply cannot be the best people in the world to lead this nation.

From the likes of Lincoln, Jefferson, FDR, Reagan, Ike, and JFK, we have degenerated to this pit of grime is sickening. It is at times like this that I’m thankful of just how old I am, for if I were still among those with peach fuzz, I would be terrified. Being with those with few hairs, and those that are still there are white, I am well aware that I won’t have to live for a long length of time with the chaos this might bring.

Change the subject!!!

My personal 2015 was just plain damn good. I have five books published, one currently under review, and three as works in progress. Along with all that, I’m still writing short stories, which I really enjoy, and have one collection of short stories under review. Yeah, 2015 was a fine year, a vintage to remember, with anticipation riding high for 2016.

As for my publishing career, it is to my benefit to build my image, my brand, and that will be up to those that read or will read my work. If you like it, tell a friend. Between a long career in broadcast newsrooms followed by lots of time editing and publishing my own newspapers and magazines, it would be impossible for me to simply stop writing.

If I didn’t have my several hours every single day banging the crap out of a keyboard, I think I would go nuts. To a young writer the admonishment is write, write, write. To an old vowel monger, that isn’t necessary, we don’t know how to not write.

There are worries about 2016, of course. Among them are our young university students who seem to be willing to delete the first amendment to our constitution. Now, let’s look at that problem from several angles. University student? No civics background? No understanding of why there is a first amendment?

Well, from another angle, without the first amendment they wouldn’t have the right to complain about it. We complained with strong voices back in the 60s, some of us about the war, some of us about those complaining about the complainers, again, because of the first amendment.

When one studies our constitution, our way of life, one sees the girder holding up that way of life is the first amendment. Without it, there would not be a USA today. We should cheer when someone complains, voices opposition, even those whose education is severely lacking, despite they’re being a university student. Then take the time to educate them.

The second, fourth, and sixth are being hacked at and challenged by those who have sworn to uphold their very existence. I think if we wanted a monarchy we would not have had that big old revolution, or if we wanted a dictator we would not have put term limits on the presidency.

And those that want a monarchy or dictatorship are those most vehemently against the first, second, and fourth amendment.

It’s hard enough to make the right decisions regarding our personal lives, holding or finding new employment, paying or not paying our bills, loving or not loving those we live closest with, and this year, we have to put someone in charge of running the country.

Will that person have an understanding of economics, of foreign policy, of political relationships? Before you mark your X on the ballot, ask the hard questions and understand what could happen if the answer is wrong. There are elements in the world that have a great desire to destroy out country and our people, and some of those elements are homegrown. Some are foreign but funded from many sources. Can you identify those elements? Don’t vote until you can.

One more little thought. While the election of the president is very important, the most important item you’ll find on a ballot is the person at the local level who determines taxes. City Council and County Commission seats are responsible for more of your tax dollars than the federal government, and if you don’t believe that, you better start doing some homework for civics class.

Let’s get back to the good stuff. We have may feet of snow to measure in the high Sierra Nevada for the first time in a while, and that should mean some good fishing this coming spring. It should mean lots of water for corn, beans, tomatoes, and cabbage. Give us this and we’ll hope for another two or three years of heavy winter to bring this drought to an end.

Until next time, read a good book, maybe even one or two written by yours truly, and stay regular.

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Monday, December 14, 2015

Holly Jolly Blues

Someone was not too pleased with my last blog about mud puddles, humor, enjoying what life has to offer. This person implied that with all the hate flowing through the air, people willing to kill those they don’t know, and politicians doing what-ever-it-is-that-politicians-do, I should not have been so flip about life. Well, I thought, since I can’t do much about Iraq or Syria, much less about Hillary or The Donald, I might just as well enjoy a good mud puddle.

Again, the question was asked, what kind of person are you? Don’t you care? Well, put simply, I’m not the kind of person that sits and broods about the problems of the world. I plan, in broad generalization, for the future, and find that dealing with each day as it flows through my aura, a far better way.

Do I care? Most certainly, I do. Can I do anything about Iraq or The Donald? Most certainly, not. While my life will be impacted in ways, over which I have no control, I would rather worry about whether or not that puddle is deep enough to go over the top of my boot.

My wife, that darling little girl known as Patty, gets a little tired of hearing me say, “worry about those things you can do something about, and not those things, about which you have no control.” She’s smiling and wagging her pretty head right now, reading this. But it’s a great truth.

Planning with a broad brush allows for changes if a change is offered, for adjustments for those things we can control, and for disallowing those things that won’t work. Recognizing when an opportunity is presented is a big part of my plans working. Here’s a little poem I wrote that will show how one suffering greatly from the blues takes advantage of an offered change.

Those Holly jolly blues

Here he comes,

Dancin’ and shakin’ and laughin’ and givin’

Awash in the holly jolly mood, covered in

Wools and fur, reds and whites.

‘An here I am,

Cryin’ and poutin’ and cussin’ and sad,

Feelin’ sorry for me, not carin’ bout nothin’.

Ripped denim, dirty socks, not white

In you walk,

Dancin’ and shakin’ that bootie, givin’ me life,

Prancin’ about in heels and net, covered in

Silks and gauze, reds, and sheer.

No blues tonight,

Not with a princess in hand, Santa Claus smile,

Santa Claus laugh, a holly jolly mood, us covered

In reds and whites and satin sheets

Oh, my, but a little change in attitude goes a long way. Life can be full of surprises, some as ugly as Iraq and Syria, and others as much fun as jumping in the middle of a mud puddle and finding out, damn me, it’s over my boot top. If you have to worry, then for heaven’s sake, make it something that’s really worth your time and effort.

Until next time, have the merriest of Christmases and the happiest of new years. And, always, read good books and stay regular.

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