Ho,ho,ho . . .

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and a killer Kwanzaa to you all!!
To say that this has been a rollercoaster of a year would be a gross misrepresentation of the past 360 days, and an insult to understatement.
That said, I have great faith in the coming year . . . well, not so much in the state of the world, nor humanity for that matter, but in what I can do as an individual. And really, if we would all simply take care of ourselves while extending that same level of respect to those around us, this world would be a far more tolerable place. I personally try (and I emphasize ' try') to follow one universal truth; the one golden rule:
"Try your best to treat others as you would wish to be treated yourself, and you will find that this is the shortest way to benevolence."
That was written somewhere around 372-289 BC by Mencius, a follower of Confucius; and the core essence of that statement has been repeated by every great philosopher or prophet from the beginning of recorded history. From the Taoist to the Greek, from Jesus to Confucius.
So, my Christmas wish is for you all to carry that simple thought into the New Year . . . .
~
However! my more tangible Christmas gift to you all is this.
Book 2 is finally finished. I wrapped it up this morning with the final text for the back cover and sent it off. And as happy as that makes me, I missed my publishing deadline by about two weeks, so my fantasy of being published, with copies available by Christmas is not gonna happen.
So, to make it up to those of you who have been (im)patiently waiting, I am making you this offer.
Go to my website and order Book 2. If it is a gift, I will send a personal email to the recipient, informing them of your gifting, and letting them know that they will be receiving a world-class adventure cleverly disguised as a book within the next 30 days.
This package will include a personalized, signed copy of Book 2 with your name listed as the giver of the gift. (and if you wish, include whatever personal message you would like, and I will transcribe it as well.)
~
Now here's where it gets better.
~
As the book is a Trilogy, I can include Book 1 with the package, and to go further still, if you so wish, I will put your recipient on my mailing list to receive Book 3 as soon as it is published.
( Remember! Book 3 has already been written, it only needs to be edited and adjusted accordingly.)
~
So the breakdown would be as follows:
~
Purchase signed copy of Book 2 as a gift w/ letter: $20.00
~
The above, with Book 1 included; $35.00
~
Signed copies of Books 1 and 2, with a gift card informing the lucky recipient of the impending arrival of Book 3: the thrilling conclusion of the Southwestern Songline series. $55.00
~
So there you have it Kids. A killer Christmas gift for your friends that can appreciate a great adventure, a good laugh, and a bit of philosophy all wrapped up in a light-hearted, yet thought-provoking armchair journey.
~
And, by the way, my aspirations for Kickstarter have not diminished. I've just been too busy as of late. But I'm winding down my day job, and with luck, will be requesting funding by New Years.
So, please, help Santa out. With your help, the trilogy could be done that much faster, and the sequel could be providing entertainment by Summer of 2017

Again, a hearty Ho, Ho, Ho!!!

Hi ...

It's been awhile I know . . . . much happens, yet nothing of great import occurs.
I have been working tirelessly on the books, and although slow, I am pleased with my progress. I do wish I had done this before I released the first book, but then life is a learning process and I know so much more, (as well as being better at the craft) than I did a year ago.
But my plodding efforts are producing a much better book overall, so in that I'm happy.
Book two should be available by mid-September, and I hope to have the boxed set out by Christmas; and really, that is how it should be read. It was written as one long stand-alone novel, with the sequel being a second set of books . . . It is, however, still a fun read one at a time.
~
Okay; now for the personal note.
Last week the son of a dear friend of mine and his girlfriend were on their way to Maui to attend her sister's wedding, and as they were in the neighborhood, they worked out a stop on the Big Island to visit JJ and I. Now, company is always fun, but this one put an oddly nostalgic spin on the week.
These kids; and I refer to them as kids because they are in their mid-twenties, and that makes 'em kids . . . they were a treat, but as I mentioned, their being here brought back memories by the boatload.
First let me say that they were charming, incredibly polite, and wonderful house guests, who also happen to be very talented musicians.
~
Now, I'm a bit jaded. I have been around great music most of my life and I've worked with some of the biggest names in show biz.
I am also quite selective in my likes and dislikes. Therefore, I am rarely impressed with the direction or the quality of the music I hear, whether it be live or recorded. I absolutely despise rap and am, on the whole, equally unimpressed with hip-hop.
But these guys are doing something newly retro, interesting, and fun. As a matter of fact, I recommend you go to their website and check 'em out, You'll find the link at the end of this post.. . .
~
As I was saying, we don't often hang with people this much younger than ourselves. And since we have no children of our own we aren't reminded by said prodigy how quickly we are growing old.
So it was refreshing to talk with smart and talented people who have not yet been beaten into submission by reality's blunt hammer, nor soaking in egos bouillabaisse.
Anyway, the conversations were grand; but left me with mixed feelings . . .
Now, I suspect Jessies father had given him a little insight to my past, and having stuffed a lot of living into a handful of decades, they allowed me to draw from my river of experience and offer them not so much advice, but perspective. And of the two, I feel perspective is often the more valuable.
So in that, I felt I provided a minor service.
But also, in talking with them I realized how much I miss the open innocence of youth, the unfettered hope, and boundless energy that being twenty provides; and perversely, how blissfully unaware we are of the fleeting nature of those magical years . . . Yet when spoken as warning/advice, the words sound both trite, and cliche'.
Ahh well, I have also found that one of life's greatest ironies is that while we may hear the wisdom in words; in the end, time is the only teacher we truly listen to.
~
So, having dropped them off at the airport last night so they might continue their own amazing adventure, I was left thinking of just that; the elasticity of time . . . .
Jessie, the handsome young fellow with the mustache and the red tie, is the same age I was when I met Jeudi, and we celebrated our 34th-anniversary just yesterday. And Lauren, the lovely vocalist was born the year after we moved to Hawaii . ..
~
With these things poking my memory cage like a child with a stick,
I spent some time this morning searching for quotes with 'growing older' in the title, and I discovered ( with no surprise) there to be no shortage on the subject.
Many were witty, others profound. But as I studied them, trying to find the one that would work well in this post I remembered a quote that Teller lifted from a song I wrote for my Grandfather before he died.
It's in Book One, and says it all in one simple sentence.
~

"To sacrifice youth and replace it with truth seems an unfairly high price to pay."

~

Oh, and one last thing. I know this is a good book, and if the reviews have any validity, many people agree.
But understand, if no-one else knows about it, well, that's as far as it goes. So please, tell people about the book! share your enthusiasm with others . . . Everyone I've ever met appreciates being turned on to a good read, and I can't tell you how many times I've been thanked for it, or thanked others for the same.
As for marketing, I am exploring all avenues and am beating my head against the wall trying to figure out how to market this on a nonexistent budget.
For those who are thinking of suggesting one of the funding sites such as Kickstarter, I'm putting together a video now, but still, I am a firm believer in word of mouth being an incredibly powerful form of promotion. So, please, open up!
~
I would also like to say many, many mahalo's for following my adventures. I truly hope you are enjoying my slightly skewed views on life, as well as finding humor, and perhaps an occasional bit of enlightenment within these pages.

D.C.

Royal Jelly | About The Band

Soul-Jive & Gypsy-Blues

ROYALJELLYJIVE.COM

Hi everbody!

Okay. An ongoing question/discussion I have with my readers, and more so my yet to readers, is the concept of a "Songline."
Now, the book is not so metaphysical as this, nor is it a dry. But the concept relates to the book, and the book encapsulates the concept. . . . So, that said, here you are.
~
Songlines are about singing where you've been or creating a map with words. The literal concept of Songlines is to "sing the trail", to "sing the place", to recreate and remember the physical landscape in song. And, it should be noted, this doesn't just apply to a literal landscape. Since few of us rely on a literal landscape for our sustenance anymore this concept can be extended to any figurative landscape. We all yearn for a sense of place and this is one way to achieve it.
Songlines in Australia can extend thousands of miles. Aborigines can unerringly find their way across terrain unknown to them simply by knowing the land's song--the songline. The Navajo Deerway Chant is a healing ceremony based on a songline of a couple hundred miles which circles a particular valley in Arizona.
Ones immediate purpose of Songlines is to introduce them as a concept which sums up or encapsulates your particular experiences of a specific location. Using words and drummed "phrases," these Songlines are the equivalent of maps of experience which, whenever they are played and sung or said, will guide you back to and through the places you walked. They will return you to (or to you) the feelings and events you experienced each night. Like all maps, the more specific Songlines are, the more useful they'll be for you and others.
To create Songlines:
1. Take the time to recall the feelings specific to the particular places you've walked/frequented. Each environment is very different from any other. In order to create a Songline one must be aware of that difference.
2. Retrace the course of the travel in your mind, what you saw and felt what occurred, and what was heard .
3. Remember details such as the texture of the sand, the profile of the mesa you saw while walking along the arroyo, the chokecherry trees growing along the stream, etc.,etc.
4. Start attaching words to these images. As is often true in poetry, the fewer words it takes to describe and evoke your experience of place, the more powerful the description will be.
5. The final step is to fit the words of your memories and impressions into a "song."
Go take a walk around the block. Then come up with several images of that walk. Add what you hear and felt. Try to make them combinations of experience and details of place. What makes this block unique from other blocks? Begin putting your experiences into lines and verses that match the rhythms and patterns of your walk/block.
Creating Songlines isn't as hard as it might sound. Don't think about writing poetry, certainly don't think about making art. Do your composing in the peripheral state, the same state you used to recollect details, the same state you were in while dreaming.
The whole existence of Songlines is based on the fact that in the peripheral mind, there's little difference between what you see and what you feel, little difference between who you are and where you are.
Songlines were once common to all hunter-gatherers. All peoples who wandered needed these Land Songs. The Aboriginal peoples of Australia have undoubtedly created the most complex and comprehensive Songlines. They combine mythology with family and clan history and literally follow trade routes from one side of the Australian continent to the other, passing through as many as twenty different language groups. The common element of such a long song is the melody, and its melodies that literally hold the Australian continent and its people together. So important are Songlines to Aborigines that unsung land is dead land, and if a song is forgotten, any land which is no longer sung over, will die. To allow such a thing to occur is the worst possible crime for an Aborigine. To be able to sing a Songline indicates an historically unbroken, intimate knowledge of the land. In short, it marries people to place. This is called ownership.
________________________________________

In the Southwest, the Navajo are known for the lyrical beauty of their Songlines. The following lines are from a Bringing Home Ceremony.
I fly around the edge of Fluted Rock
Now I being Early Morning Boy, I walk around the edge
The Black Mountain, hogan at sky center, I walk around the edge
These being Wind People, young men, I walk around the edge
With the Sun being still there I encircle it, I walk around the edge
I walk around the edge, I walk around the edge, I walk around the edge.
~
The sum of a Songline when we write about a journey becomes our communal map of that journey, of the place and our experience of and in that place. Songlines reinforce our unity with the land, and express's the same oneness we experience while engaged in the peripheral mind.
~
Well, I hope that helps.

D.C.

Hi -ho Kiddies!

I awoke in a grumpy mood this morning . . .. I have been working too hard (as we all must) my cars are broke (again) and my dog was in surgery yesterday. (she'll live, but it's an expensive deal)
I know there is a country song in there, and when I find the time I'll squeeze a tune out of this week's sh*t hammering.
 So, as I mumbled into my morning coffee, fumbling with the buttons on my keyboard and cursing the gods for not having allowed me the good fortune of being born to a wealthy family; a rarified group of folks whom I refer to as; "The lucky sperm club,"
I turned on my trusty Mac to check out the dailies on my book.
~
Lo and behold, there before my tired, bloodshot eyes was the latest review of Book 0ne in Amazon reviews. . .
What I saw, so eloquently stated turned my frown upside down. For
knowing that people are finding my novel this enjoyable helps to soften my hardships, and reinforces my belief that my years of effort were not in vain.
~
So, I've now had my coffee, (sweetened with local honey) and having reluctantly, and temporarily, forgiven the gods their cruel oversight, I am off to work; lighter of step, and with the metaphorical feces wiped from my mug. For altho' I've paid my dues, suffering does not cover the rent. And besides, I must make the moolah to get my pooch out of medical hock. ( after all, it's not her fault)

 Here is the review that brightened my day.


By itoldalthea

If you're looking for a good, action-packed, adventurous book to read this summer, or fall, or winter...heck, this spring, this one is it!

Author Denver Davis his knocked it out of the park in his debut novel, Southwestern Songline: Book 1 - The Fall.

Set in SW Colorado and the canyons of Utah, the story follows the exploits of Teller, a man's man that also has a way with the women. Teller leaves friends and admirers in his wake, and has a lasting impact on everyone he encounters. The Fall takes us from Telluride to Lake Powell and the journey is full of action, plot twists, romance, intrigue, and suspense. Along the way Teller dips into the realm of the supernatural and brings you, the reader, in with him.

Having grown up in Colorado (but since long removed) the author's narrative brought me back to a time long ago in my life. While reading his descriptions of the various mountain ranges in SW Colorado, I could easily envision the different locations and return there in my mind's eye. Whether running rapids in a raft, finding refuge in a cave, or stepping into Teller's dreams while he sleeps, the author makes the reader feel as if they are a participant in the story rather than an observer. There were times I swear I could smell the river, the trees, and a character or two in desperate need of a shower.

Without giving away the plot I will say the adventures of Teller involve beautiful mountains (and one beautiful mountain woman in particular), raging rivers, Anasazi ruins, hair-raising helicopter flights, ancient spirits manifested in the present, long-lost treasure, music and booze-filled nights in the bars of Durango, and some old-fashioned western justice along the way to boot. The final two-thirds of the book were a very fast read; in fact, I couldn't put it down. The only disappointment for me was in the finishing of the book and the realization that I'll have to wait for the release of the second installment to pick up the story again.

As someone who has been an avid reader for 45 years I would rank this offering in my Top 15 of books I've ever read, and I recommend it to others without hesitation. The read is worth your time and you'll be rewarded with a story for the ages for your effort.


Yeah!! Thank you itoldalthea, and folks, read the book; apparently it's pretty damn good.

D.C.

       With another tug at his hat Teller stepped towards that upraised stone finger, favoring his right leg and cursing his reckless soul.
That he had not been kind to his body over the years was a colossal understatement, and that he was now suffering the consequences was certainly no surprise, for Teller was not a man who observed life, he absorbed it. He fought, drank and danced with it. He was a man of great appetite, and having partaken fully the banquet, was now paying dearly for his hunger.
    Thinking back to a song he had written for his Grandfather before he had died, Teller sang a prophetically appropriate line: “To sacrifice youth and replace it with truth seems an unfairly high price to pay.”
And so it seemed.
~
That was an excerpt from Book One: "The Fall"
I decided to drop this in this morning as I find it particularly poignant. I had a birthday earlier this month, and I am feeling every one of my years.
I would write more, but I'm late . . . it's time to go out into the world and take my daily beating.

Ahhh, Life . . .

            Last week I got a wild hair and called a buddy of mine, (a pretty good guy who is not only blessed with a sense of humor, but aint too bad on that ole’ six-string box.)

Any old hoo, I talked him into flyin’ us over to Oahu for the big Fourth o’ July Fireworks show in his little Grumman Cheetah aero-plane, where, for lodging, we got to stay on his 40’ sailboat. Now, this is one of those deals where altho’ I may not have the toys, I have still have friends who do, and I sometimes get to play with them. (when they are willing to share of course)

It was a blast, and I tell you this not to provoke jealousy, but to emphasize the vagaries of our existence; for, as fun as it was, I missed my humble home and the small pleasures it provides . . . which leads us to the point of this post.    

            These are men who were not nearly as foolish in their youth as I; for while they have managed to acquire and retain such wonderful things, I have managed only to hold on to a few fine treasures; a Woman, a Dog, a Guitar and a bottomless Chest packed with songs and stories. (I have capitalized these on purpose to indicate their incalculable value.)

            It seems my friends, bless their souls for loving me as they do, and sharing their toys, were lucky enough to have metaphorical cotton stuffed in their ears at birth, muting the siren song that called to me from the day I first opened my ears.

For those who've not heard the sweetness of that wicked refrain, there are no words capable of describing the delicate fishhook that imbeds itself into one’s soul, convincing the unlucky recipient to run themselves repeatedly onto the rocks; only to be left to salvage the contents of your ship from the flotsam and jetsam found in the surrounding waters of your being.

~

            Now, with the illness that befell me in 2004, I've spent the past decade and a half crawling across the sharp reefs of survival, the worst of me left in bits and pieces, caught on the razors edge for the scavengers to feast upon. But with love and luck, and blessings from above, I have not only survived, but have come back with a vengeance, scarred and beaten, but a better man for it all, with the talents that had lay snubbed for so long being wrestled to the surface where at last, they see the light of day.

            I could go on with the observations and witticisms that a lifetime of livin’ has shown me. (As a matter of fact, I've a song by that title, and it will soon be included on this site, and on FB through a service called; Sound Cloud.) But I feel that by reading my novel; ‘Southwestern Songline’ you will find Teller walking you through a world still tinged with magic.

            So, as I'm beginning to ramble, I will leave you with a fun little tune I wrote awhile back that seems to fit the general concept of my reality. It’s a simple thing, but beneath all of my complexity, so am I.

Ahhhh, Life . . .

ALL BETS ARE OFF

Denver C. Davis  Copywrite 2004

   C

It came as no surprise to me

           G                          

 When I turned off my TV

         F                                                     G

That everything I thought I knew was wrong

        C

Like Alice down the rabbit hole

           G

The whole damn things out of control

               F                     G                    C

Now the best that I can do is just hang on

 Well it seems a few decades have passed

Since the days I thought I had a grasp

On what at the time passed for reality

Now looking back in retrospect

The one thing that I most regret

Was betting that I’d keep my sanity

        * CHORUS *

Barre F        Barre G          Barre F           Barre G

All bets are off now, all bets are off now

Barre F             Barre G         C

All bets are off now you bet!

Barre F                              Barr G

I’ve been played by the best of fools

       Barre F                                Barre G

But you learn the game, they change the rules

      Barre F                      G         C

So roll those dice but, all bets are off!

Life’s a lot like countin’ cards

Except twice as fast, and twice as hard

And there’s at least a dozen jokers to every Queen

Be you Jack a’ diamonds, or Ace a’ Spades

The dealin’ slows and the money fades

So you best have somethin’ hidden up your sleeve                                                                                                                                          

Win or lose, the results the same

So it’s all in how you play the game

You can play it crazy or play it crazy fun

Between lunatic and the slightly strange

The little off, full blown deranged

There’s always someone to show you how it’s done

All bets are off now, all bets are off now

All bets are off now you bet!

When I was young I could have sold my soul

Now the dang things worn all full of holes

But it’s all I got, so, all bets are off

It’s academic anyway

Tomorrow will be yesterday

And you’d think by now I might have had enough

I would’a bet a leg, tossed in an arm

By fifty I would have bought the farm

But here I am so, all bets are off

All bets are off now all bets are off now

All bets are off now you bet!

 All bets are off now; it’s a losin’ game anyhow

But I have not lost it all no not yet;

I have not lost it all no…..

Not yet!

A Blast from the Past.

    So, an  old friend, ( I just had a mental pause; now the term 'old friend' takes on a much more significant meaning,) anyway, an old friend sent me this photo of one of her sons in my lap from waaay back in 1990. . . . My first reaction was, of  course, wow! how cool. my second reaction was, fuck, where did twenty five years scamper off to??? and my third thought was of how much has changed since that picture was taken on an uneventful afternoon at the beach, and what a peaceful( comparatively) world we lived in.

     ~
    9 11 had not yet happened, so all of the horrors that now plague the planet were no more than a morbid fantasy turned profit machine in the minds of monsters like the future vice president, and with the collapse of the Soviet Union not yet complete, little tin despots in shit-hole third world contries did not have wholesale access to the endless stockpile of weapons leftover from the cold war. Funny, but irony being what it is, with all of that chest-pounding puffery between the two superpowers, the world was a safer place. (again, comparatively) For as long as the threat of the U.S. remained, the iron fist of the Kremlin kept the black market warlords at bay.
    ~
   Conversations were primarily actual person to person events, as Cell phones were not yet the ubiquitous things they are now.
Text was the print in a (gasp!) book, and anyone who walked around talking out loud was likely unhinged. Now, one cannot tell the crazies from the masses; and that line gets thinner by the day.
As a matter of fact, the internet, or the world wide web, as it was referred to then, was not even available to the public until 1993
    ~
   And the United States was about to enter into the longest period of economic peacetime expansion in its history.
~
Wow, the power of a photograph . . ..
Now that boy is a young Man, and I, alas, am that much older, and in theory wiser. Altho' on that score, I often have my doubts.
Yes, it seems that time marches on, and we are left stuck to its boots, and carried into the future.

This has been taken from my F. B. page 

Okay! I know you've heard it all before; but I really, truly, no shit, have got it together on book one.... As matter of fact, I am so pleased with this final incarnation of the book that I am offering a free replacement to anyone who finds the grammatical issues distracting,
But! for everyone else, I am going to have a series of contests.
Yeah!
So, whilst I finish editing Book 2&3, I thought we might have a little fun with this first game.
~
I am going to give a free copy of Book One to the first ten people who answer three questions; and we'll do it like this:
~
First, anyone who wants to play will have to go to my website and read the five chapters that are there, free for the reading.
Now, to keep it honest, you will answer here on the FB page; and along with your answers, I want you to put the date of your response, along with any number between 1 and 200 . Example: 6/30/15 + 10 ( that adds up to 61.Got it?) Okay!
I will have a sheet of paper with ten numbers I have already chosen randomly. The ten people whose #'s match mine will of course, win.
(at the end of the contest I will post a pic. of the number sheet to assure everyone that it is in no way rigged.)
Once the ten winners have been chosen, I will post the winner #'s here, and will then ( to protect your privacy) have those folks email me with their address. I will then mail them the Book.

Sound like fun . . . .? if so, good. let's play.
~
Now, for those of you who have seen Monty Python's, The Holy Grail: Picture the bridgekeeper that questioned the Knights of Camelot growling out these questions three . . .
~
"Stop! who would cross the bridge of death must answer me these questions three. ere the other side he see . . . ."
~
Wahaaat are the color of Kelly's hair . . .?
~
Whaaat was the name of the truck Teller won in the tree climbing contest?
~
Whaaat is the Teller's favorite beer?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Let the games begin!

For those of you as of yet unfamiliar, Please just google  Tropical Dawg

Well it been a few days, and I've been busy with the books, (a writer's work is never done) And I'll tell you more about that later; but for today, heres a letter to the guys that run the world.

Hi! This is directed to the hundred, or couple hundred, people who actually run things. I don't 

pretend to know who you are, whether you're some sinister Council of Illuminati or just a bunch of

 boring guys in impeccable suits. But you guys know who you are. I just need to pass on 

an important message to you:


   First off, congratulations. I'm told the top 1 percent now holds a full 51% of the world's wealth, and the top 80 of you alone hold as much wealth as the whole bottom half of humanity (3.5 billion people). Pretty sweet! And I want to reassure you, I'm not speaking from a place of resentment here. I'm not here to scold you, or pass moral judgement on you and your class. Seriously, I'm not. In fact, I'm trying to be the best friend you'll ever have.

     I'm no one special, by the way. Just another of the proles out here in Sector Twelve. Many of my friends, by the way, are convinced that you have no regard for us at all down here in the 99% - that we might as well all be cockroaches as far as you're concerned. I have no idea whether that's true or not (you may, however, want to talk to some of your friends who have been doing their best to reinforce this view), but I certainly hope it's not - that at least a few of you might be afflicted with the curse of "empathy" or "human feeling." I'm not here to debate that. And anyway, it's irrelevant. I'm not going to appeal to your theoretical sense of empathy. I'm going to appeal to your self-interest.

    But I said I had an important message to pass on to you. Sorry, almost forgot. Here it is:
You really need to help us save the world. Not only that, it is in your best interests to do so!

    See, I don't know if you're aware of this, in whatever rarefied bubble you spend your days in. But those massive corporations that you guys control, those giant moneymaking machines you have set into motion? They are poisoning the earth, air, and water, accelerating climate change, killing off the animals and plants, and generally helping us all drown in our own collective waste.

     Now, that may seem - at the moment - like it's not your problem. I'm here to tell you, it IS. Because we only have one of these planets. There might be millions of others out there, but they aren't where we can reach them any time soon. For all practical purposes, this is it. And it's not just us cockroaches who are going to be caught in the destruction - it's you guys, too.

     Right now, you have successfully built elaborate bubbles of privilege which might have convinced you that, whatever happens to the rest of us, YOU and your friends and loved ones are gonna be fine. Maybe you have your post-apocalyptic bunker all set to go, or a spacecraft or an undersea city, like the villains from "Moonraker" and "The Spy Who Loved Me," respectively. (Bear with me, I grew up in the Roger Moore era.) Some of you are even excited about the prospect, envisioning that the post-apolcalypse will be like your idealized, rule-and-regulation-free version of the Wild West.

     I'm here to tell you, it just isn't going to work.

     Item One: For one thing, you may not make it to your escape pod/bunker/generation ship at all. Before things break down entirely, there will inevitably be a season of mobs with pitchforks and torches visiting you guys. I'm not going to be part of that mob, understand - I'm a total pacifist and an unreconstructed hippie, I would never hurt anybody - but there are plenty of other people who don't have my inhibitions in that area. Some of them might even work for you already! As Robert Heinlein (hardly what you'd call a bleeding heart liberal or an anti-capitalist) reminds us, think how often people like you end up betrayed by their closest friends and most loyal servants. And that's under normal societal conditions! If society really comes apart? All bets are off.

      Item Two: Even assuming you make it to your bunker, you have to live out the rest of your life there, and apart from anything else, it's going to be BORING as hell. And LONELY. You guys may consider yourselves Randian lone wolves, but think about it. No more Paris or Tokyo or Dubai or private South Seas islands to run off to. No more outside world to explore. We here in the 99% may be inconvenient and intrusive, especially at the height of tourist season - but we're also the ones who make the wine, train the racehorses, dig for the truffles, and write all the TV shows. Even if you think you've socked in enough of every possible commodity to satisfy your needs forever, one day you're gonna suddenly crave, say, a Reese's peanut butter cup, and realize you forgot to pack any, and that there are no more of them anywhere in the post-apocalyptic landscape. And then you'll get to brood about Reese's peanut butter cups dangling tantalizingly out of your reach for the rest of your life. You guys like instant gratification. That's gonna drive you crazy.

    Item Three: I realize this is contrary to the whole Ayn Rand lone wolf worldview, but the ugly truth is, your lifestyle depends on a veritable army of service personnel. How many support staff do you intend to bring with you to Galt's Gulch? Because you'll need quite a few - and beyond a certain point, they have a disturbing tendency to morph into another of those emphatic groups with the pitchforks and torches. (Op. cit. Heinlein, above.) It's one thing now, when you can rely on the security state that is the U.S. of A. to protect your interests and keep the zombie hordes away from the gate... but what happens when your personal army of security guards get tired of seeing you sitting there hogging all the good stuff? Who's going to guard you from them?

   Item Four: But let's say you're NOT going it 100% alone, but are all in it together, a proud little band of like-minded trillionaires creating a brave new world together. That's gonna be even worse. Think about it. You really want to spend the rest of the apocalypse in the company of  the hundred richest people you know? You might barely be able to get through a dinner party with half of them. To use just one frightful example: what if one of them is Donald Trump? Wrap your head around THAT one.

Not to mention that they, like you, will all be bored out of their skulls after five minutes. These are high-powered people, used to playing with the lives of billions. (Hi from Sector Twelve!) You think they're gonna be satisfied with a stack of DVDs and a deck of cards? Not likely. My prediction is, you'll all find yourselves acting out a live-action version of "Game of Thrones" within a month. And while Westeros is an exciting place to watch on HBO, I don't think you're going to enjoy living there. (Yeah, yeah, I'm sure YOU in your wonderfulness will immediately rise to the top of the pecking order. And then you'll stay there for... as long as you can. May the odds be ever in your favor.)

    Item Five: I know I said I wasn't going to bring this up, but there's the whole "watching the rest of humanity die horribly" thing. This whole scenario depends on you being completely and utterly willing to let billions of people, the bulk of the human race, die off in various gruesome ways without your lifting a finger to prevent any of it.

Are you?

Take a good long look in that gilded mirror, and truly ask yourself: ARE you?

Again, I freely admit: I have no idea how you guys live, or what any of you are like as individuals. But the unreconstructed hippie in me really, really WANTS to believe that you're still human beings, with hearts and souls. You really want seven or eight billion people haunting you? (And I promise you, I will be one of them. I have no compunctions about haunting.)

Because, the thing is? There's another option.

You can HELP.

Join with the rest of humanity. Help us save the world.

   You guys are literally sitting on half of the world's collective wealth, and much more than half of the world's political power structures. You can accomplish things with the stroke of a pen we proles can only fantasize about.

    There are scientists and engineers out there full of ideas about how to clean up the mess. Ideas about how to protect our land masses from rising oceans and the other ravages of climate change. Ideas about how to move beyond poisonous fossil fuels and reinvent the energy industry. Ideas about new ways of agriculture, of food, of making fresh water, of reimagining a thousand fields. You and your class are the people who can make those ideas into reality, by spending some fraction of your accumulated capital.
   And guess what? The people who fund those ideas, and make stuff happen? They are going to make TONS OF MONEY. (Do I have your attention now?)

   In 1932, Franklin Roosevelt, a wealthy and well-connected man,  "betrayed his class" by daring to propose a downward redistribution of resources to benefit the masses, rather than just the 1% of his day. Many of those one-percenters still haven't forgiven him to this day - but guess what? Even after the New Deal, there were still rich people!  You guys get all upset by the prospect of "wealth redistribution," but trust me, they aren't gonna take ALL of it. (That would be the job of those pitchfork mobs. They will be more than happy to take all of it.)

    And yet by the time FDR died in office, almost all of those fat cats were richer than ever. The nationwide public works, the rural electrification, the restructuring of agriculture in the Dust Bowl - these weren't just "welfare" projects for the proles, they generated tons of revenue and created opportunities for innovation. You would be getting in on the ground floor. Does that not appeal to you?

   Incidentally, by "betraying his class," FDR also became the most beloved man in America. They wouldn't stop electing him. People hung up his picture over the mantel like he was the Pope. He betrayed the 400, but he took up his lot with the hundred million. Instead of continuing to pollute and destroy the only planet we have, and being known to posterity as one of the "evil selfish bastards destroying the planet out of unconscionable greed," wouldn't you rather be known as one of the guys who saved the planet?

   Because the thing is, it only takes a few of you. I know the Kochs and Cheneys are still invested in the fossil fuels/weaponry paradigm, and they're the ones who get all the press. But that's the past - the stuff I'm talking about is the future, and there's so much opportunity out there for those willing to be a little more farsighted. Cheney and the Kochs are in the buggy-whip business, and you have a chance to get in on the ground floor of the automobile era. Again - does "getting in on the ground floor" not appeal to you guys at all? Bill Gates is out there doing it with disease control; but isn't anyone interested in the financial possibilities of seawalls? Air cleaning turbines? Seawater reclamation?

   I'm here to tell you, you don't HAVE to be hated, and you don't have to fear us cockroaches. We are all on this planet together, and helping us will, in fact, benefit you as well. You guys, with your power and your resources, can make the future happen - and you can get richer AND become worldwide heroes doing it.

   Please. Join us! Help us save the world!

                    P.S. I did not pen this piece; but I wish I did.

Well, the parties over.

it was a week (well three days anyway) full of hard lessons and first rate suggestions and examples.
As for my stuff . . . altho' it was considered interesting, it has little commercial value . . . as a matter of fact, one very successful Nashville female artist told me my jukebox rocker was good, but "Kinda old school country"  Ha! well hell, what did she expect? I don't do new hip hop country....
Anyway, mission accomplished. I learned what I need to do; so I will spend the twelve months writing the best damn song I can. Then, next year, maybe I'll generate some buzz.
~
But in the meantime rest assured I will be working on the trilogy and its sequel. I've nearly finished Book 1 (for the 19th time) and will be on to Book two by the end of next week.
So, because of the format adjustment, I've held off on the kindle release. I see no point in reenacting the same scene with the electronic version as the paperback, so please be patient.
And: to anyone who is currently reading the 'Flawed' copy, whenever you're ready or willing, I would love some feedback.

D.

Aloha from the beaches of the Kohala Coast.

Well, yesterday was certainly an interesting experience . . . . 
There is an amazing amount of talent here; not only from this diverse group of people who have so graciously given their time to come across the ocean and bless us with their knowledge; but from the attendees as well.
~
As in all things, (at least for me) the surprise is always the details that lie in the shadows and around the corners of a life that is nothing but corners with surprises hiding in their shadows.
Many people, and many cultures maintain that all is a circle; with no end and no beginning. But as I grow older I am finding that this circle of life seems less a circle than a pinball table where the capricious flippers of fate slap you willy-nilly about; sending one bouncing through a brightly colored world; where, depending on the skill of your chosen/assigned operator, you roll around, banging your head on one wall or another, gathering or losing points as you go. And, in the end, are sucked down into a hole. 
And if you wish to insert reincarnation into the equation, if your operator/god wants to play you again, he/she just pops in another coin/ (choose you own metaphor here) and off you go for another round!
Sorry, I got sidetracked . . . (see my second post for an illustrated example of what you may expect from my ramblings.)
~
On second thought, surprise may be the wrong term here; perhaps I should say that I'm stunned by the depth and width of the field. Money is at the top (no great shocker there) with composing for TV and film the quickest way to the big bucks, with heart being at the bottom of the list. But in all fairness,  the point of this endeavor is finding some degree of commercial success in the hopes of freeing myself from the drudgery of working day after day with the constant struggle of meeting my financial obligations a primary concern. 
So, I suppose I'm back to my middle paragraph: My life as pinball.
I had been wondering how to get my stuff to the right people; I heard of this event on the radio as I drove to work; and now I'm here bouncing around the musical table, hoping for a high score . . .. 
I just hope my player knows what he's doing.

D.C.  


 

 

 

Okay, I now have an entirely new way to share my slightly skewed view of this big round ball.
So, For those of you that follow my FB storybook, this is my new entry into the media. For those of you whom I've not yet met, let this be our introduction.
     Let me start by saying that if you choose to follow me through the daze to come,  you will for the most part, be amused. But will also find yourself  on occasion be allowed inside my head ( which I will admit can be rather disturbing) and no, I don't mean scary weird; I mean sort of like this:

Tonight I prepare for a four day adventure with some of the top talent in the songwriting world. For me, it will be a chance to showcase my songs, and an opportunity to plug my novel to some folks in the biz. So,stay tuned; I will try to provide you with some entertainment; or at least a daily commentary on the adventures of a Palmtree Hobo

Aloha! 

D.C.D.










http://www.denvercdavis.com/

Dear readers, take note:

I mentioned a few posts ago that it seems every time I have a glitch, or some other indefinable issue in my life, within a day or so I'm given what I will call, for lack of a better word, a "sign."

It will come in any number of guises, from a lightning-like flash of revelation, to something as mundane as a bumper sticker; but come it will . . .

Now as you all are aware, I've been agonizing over the punctuation issues in my book to the point of nearly not mailing out copies to people that have been waiting uber-patiently, moon upon moon.

Then, this morning, I stumbled across this Tom Robbins quote:

“Don't trust anybody who'd rather be grammatically correct than have a good time.”

Well there you are . . . and a good time resides within the novel's pages regardless of other flaws.

~

Oh! I got my first verbal review yesterday, and it erased any doubts I may have had. ( it will soon be posted both in Amazon and my website)

The reader began by waving book One around and laughingly yelling: "where the hell is the next book!! You left me hanging with Teller and Kelly at . . (well I can't go into further description or I might spoil it for you)

Anyway,he went on to say that I had knocked it out of the park, and that Teller was going to be the next: and I quote: "who was that character that Tom Cruise fucked up in that movie? oh yeah, Jack Reacher... thats the guy . . . I'm not sure what I think about Teller, he's like the the cocky anti-hero who you just gotta love...)

I'm not sure about the Jack Reacher comparison; but he went on and you get the gist.

Now, full disclosure, this guy is a friend, but he's also an accomplished Luthier, musician, and businessman, as well as being an intelligent and well-read individual. So, as I have a great deal of respect for him, to hear those words was a verbal balm slathered on my scruffy soul, and verification that my considerable efforts have not been in vain.

Aloha!

Book: 1 - The Fall