Bernard's Blog

Toyota Corolla Codes PO171, PO441, or PO455

2012-01-25T11:41:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I had another experience with a customer owning a Toyota Corolla getting the rapidly popular PO171, PO441, and or PO455. This was a favorite customer of mine. She’s been bringing her car in to Nilson Brothers Garage since shortly after I came to work here in 1976. Imogene is in her eighties now with a 2009 Corolla which she had told me would be her last car.

Imogene pops open her driver’s door as I approach and eases out of the car carefully. She only puts about two thousand miles a year on her car, so I haven’t seen her since the end of 2010. She’s one of those people that tests your ability to take verbal jabs. When she finds out you can, she’ll fire a few over your bow at a moment’s notice. This was my moment.

“Wow, Bernie… you managed to keep the weight off. Your face looks gaunt. Eat a sandwich for God’s sake.”

I laugh because when she saw me back in 2010 I’d just lost the fifty extra pounds I had been hauling around after the Achilles Tendon injury I had in 2007. Her first statement back then after I’d been gaining the weight gradually was:‘You look kind of bloated. Do you have a water retention problem?’ Then in 2010, she wasted no time after seeing my drastically trimmed down form to offer me her doctor’s phone number to get checked out for cancer. If anything on me is out of place I can rely on Imogene to point it out to me, including but not limited to smudges, faded work clothes, or even my normally close cropped hair touching my ears. Imogene probably weighs around a hundred pounds and can’t be much over five feet tall. I don’t fire rounds back anyway. I don’t talk back to my elders. Besides, she’s funny. :)

“It’s staying off too, Imogene. It takes too much torture to get the weight down. What brings you in today, fluid and tire pressure check? I haven’t seen you for a while.” She usually comes in a few times a year so I can check her car’s vitals out. It’s a free service I do for any of my customers uncomfortable about doing it themselves, mostly so if they’re lax about doing it, I won’t get blamed.

“My check engine light came on yesterday. You can do the other stuff too though. I spent some time with my daughter in Arizona so my little Toyota didn’t get out much.”

I had a half hour before my next appointment so Imogene has chosen the right time to drive in. “I have the heater on in the office. Go on in and I’ll check things out for you.”

“Don’t get grease on my seat,” she reminds me on the way to the office.

I smile while putting my seat cover on and my floor protector down. Yeah, that’ll happen. If I ever got grease on her seat, Imogene would make sure she lived to a hundred or my expiration date so I would be dutifully reminded of my carelessness. Plugged into my notebook computer scanner interface, the infamous PO171 (lean system, bank one) and PO441 (evaporative purge flow) show up. I’ve seen these before. I quickly print out the Tech Service Bulletin for Imogene to take with her to the dealer, and check her fluid levels and tire pressures.

In the office, Imogene’s staring at my family picture from Christmas. Uh oh… it’s the one with my black eye from playing basketball I got according to my family just so as to ruin the holiday photos. She does a deliberate pirouette finger pointing at the picture. She was waiting for me, the little…

“Joyce finally clocked your disrespectful ass, huh?”

Why fight it. “Yep, I nagged her once too often at Thanksgiving and she tuned me up.”

Imogene chortles appreciatively. “Okay, so what’s wrong?”

I hand her the printout. “Bad news is you’ll have take this in to the dealer and get the Engine Control Computer replaced. The good news is they’ll probably give you a loaner and it will be free. I’ve already had two other customers with the same thing. Toyota took care of them right away.”

“Damn! I hate going over there.”

“I could do it for you. The cost would be astronomical, but I’m here to please.”

Imogene heads for the door. “I’m old, not stupid. Don’t retire.”

“I’ll make a note. Nice seeing you too, Imogene.” And it was.

Here’s the PDF link for the Tech Service Bulletin for any of you folks out there with a 2009 Toyota Corolla:

T-SB-0392-08

U0168 Code for GMC

2012-01-17T14:07:00.000-08:00

Two rather strange and sometimes creepy aspects of running an auto repair shop happen infrequently, but often enough, where I wonder about the cosmic balance. I call one of the occurrences the ‘Conjuring Factor’. If I really believed in it though, I’d be using it to drum up business whenever the shop gets slow. I keep a card file on customers and jobs. Yes, I also have a complete database with every customer and job on it, but the card file acts as my hard copy for quick access since I don’t keep anything of value in my front office, especially my notebook computers. Once in a while I’ll be flipping through the file at a customer’s request for info on a maintenance record when a name will jump out at me. Then, as happened today, I come in and find a message from that person about getting their vehicle in for service within a day of mentioning him to my wife. I hadn’t seen this particular customer since the beginning of last year. He’s a contractor and owns a relatively new 2007 GMC. The second creepy aspect is when what I call ‘Dumb Luck’ rears its head during a diagnostic check, which also involves my customer with the GMC I’ll refer to as Joe Acadia.

My wife asked about a certain type of electrical contracting because my son is searching the local real estate for a fixer upper home in his price range. I mentioned Joe to her and what do you know, his voice is on my answering machine. I call him up to schedule the repair he hints at in the message – his GMC won’t start occasionally.

“Sometimes my security light blinks on,” Joe explains after he drives in. “Then when I unlock it with the key, it won’t start.”

A number of possibilities float through my head: battery going out, body control computer losing the code it interprets when the key is turned to start or run, concerning security, or even a bad security component such as the mini-computer key goofing up because of a weak battery. People send those things through the wash by accident quite a bit too, and boy does that cause trouble.

“I’ll have to check it out, Joe. Hopefully, it’s just a loose connection. Anything that disrupts power to the body control computer can set a security code. Do you have an extended warranty on this?”

Joe’s silent for a moment, wondering if his answer will somehow affect the price. “It’s out of warranty. It already has more than a hundred thousand miles on it. I drive the crap out of it. I’ll leave it for you.”

He signs the estimate after I write up the sheet and I hook up the GMC to my software. It spits out a U0168 code for interruption of communication to the Instrument Cluster and Security Module. I do the usual quick checks for loose or corroded grounds and power leads – all good. Then it’s time to take a look inside on the column and see if everything jibes as I work the key. Suddenly, creepy aspect number 2 kicks in (Dumb Luck). I lower the telescoping wheel and the security light goes out. I work the wheel up and down, duplicating the problem with security light blinking on and no start. I sell the column harness and install it, thereby ending the no start and security light problem. Joe’s happy.

I, on the other hand, have now tempted the cosmic balance by having both conjured the customer out of thin air, and diagnosed his problem with dumb luck. Uh oh. :)

COLD BLOODED Review

2012-01-12T06:43:00.000-08:00

My automotive posts get hundreds of hits a day, and I answer e-mail questions along with the resulting blog comments. I put a link for buying my novel COLD BLOODED in the comments section of each one. The idea was triggered by e-mails from grateful people appreciative of the automotive repair blog posts who suggested I put up a donation button. I figured putting the link for the novel would be a better way of letting people say thank you and get something in return. I received an e-mail with my first review of COLD BLOODED:

“Enjoyed your blog- it helped with my son's Park Avenue. To thank you I bought Cold Blooded and read it on my Kindle. It was great!- You're a very good writer! (And under cover of being a mechanic, probably a very good assassin as well!)

It made my day. Although I’m not an undercover assassin, it never hurts to get some feedback on my undercover writing. :)

MRI Methods In Madness

2012-01-10T15:12:00.000-08:00

Having been a mechanic for nearly four decades in the demilitarized zone of East Oakland, the arrogant presumption that I’ve seen and heard it all sometimes creeps up on me. Then, lo and behold I read an article like this titled ‘Orgasm Research: Climax in an MRI Machine? Been There, Done That’. Doh! I bet you didn’t know Rutgers University actually hosted dynamically important studies like this. I know I didn't. The author and participant in this lame-brained, cockamamie… I mean earth shattering research is Kayt Sukel, a self professed science journalist, writer, and blogger – two out of three ain’t bad, I guess.

All the while I’m reading Ms. Sukel’s article, I’m thinking wow, this is really the cutting edge of hands on science journalism, complete with directions for journeying into the unknown world of MRI tube masturbation – wear a loose fitting dress with no panties. Her family must be very proud. The Lord knows I don’t want to know who actually pays for this kind of crap at a major university, but I have my suspicions. I take nothing away from Ms. Sukel. To actually cloak this incredible farce in language meant to make it seem like Neil Armstrong’s first step on the moon takes real talent and the chutzpah of a true ‘Sex In The City’ High Priestess of nonsense.

There were other science pioneers in the comments section requesting to assist in Ms. Sukel’s future endeavors, and of course the obvious hope Rutgers is still asking for volunteers. They were running neck and neck with the hecklers who wanted full disclosure on exactly whose pocket got picked to subsidize Ms. Sukel’s ‘on the cusp of science’ experiment. Fear not for Ms. Sukel’s safety by the way. The researcher assisting Ms. Sukel, Nan Wise (you can’t make this stuff up) blazed a path into the MRI lab with the proper CVS lubricant. And here I thought a train ride to Reno was exciting. :)

Reno Trip

2012-01-06T10:36:00.000-08:00

I agreed to go with my wife, Saint Joyce, on an AMTRAK train trip to Reno, Nevada over the mountains for our 35^th wedding anniversary. She wanted to see the mountains from the train, covered in snow, and stay somewhere nice in a spa room. No problem. We purchased the tickets for the California Zephyr – don’t ask me to explain why they call it the Zephyr. I booked us into the large players spa suite at the El Dorado only a block away from the train station. Fantastic.

We arrived at the Emeryville train station on Thursday morning well ahead of schedule. At train stations in California they issue tokens to use the bathroom, because we have the largest per capita number of homeless bums… I mean unfortunate, without residence, citizens in the country. We’re sitting there making geezer jokes to pass the time about our own myriad quirks in playing the over sixty geezer card at every opportunity to get out of doing what we don’t want to do. I then notice a short, very plump, white haired guy with a beard that looked like Santa Claus walk to the women’s restroom instead of the guy’s. We’re pretty far away, and although I’m considerate, I have no intention of running across the crowded station to rescue this guy. There was nothing left to do but smile and enjoy the show.

“Geezer alert,” I inform Saint Joyce.

“Huh?”

“Santa Geezer over there is trying to get his token in the door of the women’s restroom while staring at the very obvious universal symbol, and the word women stenciled in two languages on the door.”

Saint Joyce chuckles because she’s not always saint-like. “Ah oh. Look, he’s not too bad. He got his token to work.”

“This is going to be an interesting test though. If I walk into a restroom, I expect to see urinals, or I know I’m in the wrong place. He’s already been in there too long. That’s a geezer strike two.”

“Strike three,” Joyce proclaims with a laugh. An unhappy occupant has exited the bathroom pointing and announcing ‘there’s a man in there’.

A woman train employee opens the door just in time to have the little red faced elf hustle out saying ‘sorry, sorry’ as he crosses to the correct bathroom. It pretty much gets a few chuckles rather than a call for security forces to arrive. From the look on the old elf’s face it appeared to be a legitimate pull of the geezer card rather than a perverted scheme. Being easily entertained, the scenario passed some time for his fellow geezers, Saint Joyce and I.

We left on time and headed up on our journey into the mountains where it has been unseasonably warm with very little snow. Since snow occupied a top spot on the Anniversary love train trip, Saint Joyce is mildly irritated. Then one of the usual fly in the soup moments happens on top of the fact I find out AMTRAK’s billboard for free wifi applied only to the local train rides. Tracks ahead, damaged by who knows what, will require the Zephyr to halt its journey while two on-coming freight trains pass us. This means an hour and a half delay sitting motionless on the tracks. People on board cheer humorously as first one rockets past, and then the second one rambles by. So, we’ll be getting into Reno late. Into each life a little rain must fall. I’m a pessimist by nature so this is relatively minor, the seating is comfortable, and I’m writing the last part of my YA novel DEMON while entertaining Saint Joyce on and off.

A guy about my age two seats in front of us gets up to move by our seats into the next car. He’s wearing a gray pullover, long sleeved shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes. I instantly remember why it is I am dressed exactly like him. Saint Joyce set out a gray pullover for me to wear, because she has this annoying habit of asking me what I’m wearing to go somewhere while waving what she wants me to wear in my face. I usually don’t object unless it’s some pastel metro-man crap she’s picked up during one of her shopaholic excursions. I quickly elbow her to look up as my clothing doppelganger pauses next to us waiting for others to go by before he walks on.

“What?”

“You dressed me in the geezer uniform of the day. Thanks a lot.”

Saint Joyce giggles, because as I stated earlier, she’s not always Saint like. “Awwww… isn’t that cute.”

“Yeah,” I stick the fork in, “about as cute as us taking a now nine and a half hour snow hunting expedition train ride into the snow barren mountains.”

Saint Joyce gasps in outrage while I’m heehawing. “How the hell was I supposed to know there wouldn’t be snow in the mountains in January?”

Then she gets the needle out for me.

“Besides, if you had went with me last year when they had record snow like I asked you to I’d have had it already crossed off my bucket list.”

Bingo. It’s now my fault. “Maybe you need to change your bucket list into a ‘by myself list’ for convenience.”

“We’ll just have to do this trip again when there’s snow,” Saint Joyce announces as the train finally kicks into gear for our railway trek into the snowless mountain passes.

Oh wonderful, there’s some good news. The sunny mountain scenery dazzles us with splendor anyway without the thick white blanket. As we get higher in elevation, Saint Joyce starts elbowing me to look out the window at the small patches of snow and ice. I immediately begin a running commentary.

“Oh yeah, there has to be enough for at least four or five snowballs in that batch. Oh look, there’s a carrot and a few lumps of coal still left where Frosty’s remains were interred. Hey, there’s a patch on the slope good for a four foot bobsled run…”

Joyce starts howling in laughter, probably because of the Frosty gem. We immediately start getting eyeballed by our fellow travelers probably searching for a way to be offended, or simply enjoying the geezer show.

We arrive in beautiful Reno without further delay. All proceeds well from there. We only have to walk a block to the Eldorado. Check in is quick and painless. The large players spa suite is magnificent as you can see from my picture next to the in room Jacuzzi. Saint Joyce does not allow me to post her on the blog, because if I do, she believes the people in the box will get her. We have a drink to toast our gorgeous room and anniversary before heading down to get dinner and donate a small sum in hopes of striking it rich. Heh, heh, heh… yeah, that’ll happen. At least I got to invent 'The Geezer Alert'. :)

Code PO171 - GMC

2012-01-04T09:22:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year!

As I exited my office on this, the first day back after New Year’s long weekend, a late model GMC Sierra drives in. Nice looking vehicle. The customer gets out - all smiles, and how are you, and how was your holiday. Nice guy, but I’d never seen him before. Since I have a nametag, it’s not uncommon for total strangers to be using my first name. I always take it at face value while politely conversing. My good buddy will be Joe Sierra. Joe’s a six footer, carrying about fifty pounds too much, thinning brown wispy hair, and a short goatee. I shake my best pal’s extended hand.

“I need you to give me a quick scan, and tell me what’s wrong.”

Now look. For my regular customers, I do indeed hook up my scanner for some quick code pulling. It’s like automotive triage so I know how much more time I’ll need to figure out what’s really wrong if it’s not obvious. I don’t do it for first timers, because most of the time the results are next to worthless, and they’re thinking oh boy, I’ll just replace that and everything will be fine. See ya! Then a few days later they’ll be in to blame me for telling them to fix the wrong thing, when I had done the exact opposite. I explain to Joe I’d be glad to check out his vehicle and how much it would cost for the diagnostic fee. I’m nearly half what the dealer charges. Joe loses his happy go lucky demeanor.

“I just need a quick scan, Bernie. I’ll bring it back in at the end of the week for repair.”

“It doesn’t work like that. Most of the time the code merely points to an area where the trouble lies.” I’m thinking it’s a new year. I have a few minutes. I’ll do a demo for a potential new customer. “I’ll show you what I mean.”

I bring out my scanner, enter the vehicle info (2006 GMC 1500 with 5.3L engine), and scan the truck. PO171 – bank one sensor lean. I’m thinking wow, you can’t ask for a better example than that. This code refers to the bank one cylinders’ monitoring air fuel sensor. It used to be called an oxygen sensor and gives information to the computer about the oxygen content exhausted by the bank one cylinders. It can get tricky like my out of town guest before Christmas with the Nissan.

I check the digital data and misfire readings. The fuel trims and sensor info are within spec’s. Then I check at what temp the code set. The computer decided something went wrong when the GMC was cold. I explain in detail to Joe how many things can cause the code that have nothing to do with the sensor, such as an electric fuel pump going out, a slight intake manifold vacuum leak, and even a slight exhaust manifold gasket leak when the vehicle is cold. Joe nods while watching me point out the normal readings on the scanner as if he understands.

“I get it. Give me your card, Bernie, and I’ll call you next week when I can leave it off with you.”

Good deal. I give him my card and he drives away. Tuesday, he’s back in, and Joe’s not smiling.

“I changed that bank one sensor and disconnected the battery to erase the code like you said, Bernie. The check engine light came back on and it ran real shaky for quite a while. Scan it and tell me if the same code set.”

Bingo! If the refrain in this story seems familiar to some of my friends… it is. I feel a lot like Dr. House on the TV show, only I don’t torture my patients before fixing them. :) Patients lie, patients deliberately mislead, and leave details out. They blame the Doc when he takes their input and they get worse, even though they gave him false data. It’s the same with vehicle repair, except with my large old time customer base I’ve built trust with over the decades. Strangers… not so much. Remember, I have to bring Joe back into reality, which I do quickly.

“Leave it now, Joe. I’ll find out what’s wrong and call you with an estimate. Come in the office and we’ll make up the invoice for the diagnostic check.”

“You’re going to charge me?”

“Yep. I’m the one who told you in detail how many things can cause that code other than the sensor and you changed it anyway. The reason it ran rougher is because you disconnected the battery and blanked all your computer settings to erase the code. That’s not a good idea for exactly the reason you discovered. Now, you’ll have to pay me to do the checks I would have to do normally to find out what’s wrong.”

Joe’s heart ain’t into taking this ploy any further. “Okay. Can I use your phone to call for a ride? I forgot my cell.”

“Sure. How long did it take for the check engine light to pop back on and what brand sensor did you use?”

“AC Delco, and the light blinked on pretty quick after I started it. It went off for a while, but when I restarted it yesterday afternoon after it had been sitting, it came back on and stayed on.”

“Okay, thanks.” I took his keys, and went about finishing what I already had in the shop. I decided not to get fancy because I had a good idea what might be happening. When I started the GMC cold with my scanner hooked up, I sprayed some quick dry brake clean stuff along the edges of the intake manifold. The oxygen sensor readings and fuel trim data started revving up and down along with the engine. As it warmed up the spray made little impact. That explained why he didn’t have a misfire code. I got Joe’s reluctant okay to replace the intake manifold gaskets and kept it until this morning after an extensive test drive late yesterday. It all checked out and Joe was even appreciative while paying the not inconsiderable bill. It’s around a five hour job. Another new year, but already a familiar story of intrigue in the Twilight Zone of auto repair where everything is my fault until proven otherwise, even freebies. :)

That’s all for this update from Nilson Brothers Garage, but if you’re appreciative of the information, here is a link to my new novel COLD BLOODED for Nook and Kindle. If you’re kind enough to read it and like it, please review it on the site you purchase it from. Thank You! Every little bit helps my writing gig. :)

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-24T06:55:00.000-08:00

Especially to the men and women overseas defending America in these grim times. This YouTube video is the best Christmas card I can think of.

P2A00 Nissan Code

2011-12-22T12:21:00.000-08:00

It was Wednesday. My eye’s basketball game encounter with an elbow has been getting some laughs at the shop, because I can play it out pretty well. It’s not the first one or double one I’ve had to show off for the customers with. For those who don’t know, elbows in the nose give you double black eyes along with a nice speed bump on your beak. Anyway, my motion detector heralds the arrival of someone new. I glanced out from under the 1992 Chevy truck I’m working on and see a Texas license plate. I leapt off the creeper (yeah, right) and went to meet my out of state stop in. She has exited the driver’s side of her 2006 Nissan Sentra, and is standing with her arms folded over her chest while leaning on her car. She’s beautiful – probably early thirties, a few inches shorter than me in her heels, auburn hair, great figure, wearing some kind of dark tan sweater dress, with a leather coat for the chill. She has a smirk on her face as if she knows something no one else does… and it works for her. The smirk disappears when she sees my shiner, which has turned even more colorful since I posted the picture on Monday. She straightens away from her Sentra, and seems to be contemplating getting back in. My new Texas visitor will be known as Grace Grande for my post.

“Hi, can I help you?”

“What happened to your face?”

“I blocked an elbow with my eye playing basketball on Sunday. It looks worse than it actually is,” I replied.

“Good, because it looks horrible. You look a little old for playing basketball.”

I laugh. Good one, Grace. “I see you’re from Texas. How can I help you?”

“I’m staying in Piedmont with family. A neighbor of theirs recommended you. My check engine light came on while I was coming up the coast. It runs fine but I thought I’d better get it checked out.” Grace tells me the name of her family’s friend that recommended me. Good customer.

“Let me do a quick scan and see what’s causing the light. Have you had any work done lately?”

Grace goes around to the passenger side, and gets a folder out which contains a full dossier on her maintenance. I quickly riff through it and see the only out of the ordinary thing she’s had done is the Nissan dealer had replaced the front air/fuel ratio sensor. I hand back her folder and go get my portable scanner. She hovers right over me as I’m hunched down plugging in my scanner to her OBDII universal connector (On Board Diagnostics II). I don’t mind. I get a P2A00 code, which I’ve only encountered once before. I thought it was some kind of oxygen sensor code (or air/fuel ratio sensor). That encounter had been on a late model Nissan truck. Sure enough, my scanner explains it’s for a slow Bank 1, Sensor 1, which I already know her dealer replaced. The scanner data shows the sensor varying normally. I’m thinking it’s time for a more in depth look at the Sentra with my notebook computer scanner software. I slowly unhook and straighten, giving Ms. Grande enough time to avoid contact.

“You have a P2A00 front air/fuel ratio sensor code, but it’s reading correctly and you’ve already had it replaced six months ago. I can do a more in depth computer check or I can erase it and you can probably go back home when you’re ready without doing anything until you get to your dealer even if it comes back on.”

Grace steps towards me and puts a hand on my arm. “I’d rather you check it out.”

Well okay. They seem to like the personal touch down in Texas. “I’ll get an estimate ready. Excuse me for just a minute. Can I take one of your invoices? I’ll copy your address info from it.”

Ms. Grande releases my arm and sifts through her folder to hand me an invoice. I return from the office moments later with a fully filled out invoice. I add the mileage and license plate number along with her cell-phone number. She signs the estimate with barely a glance at the money figure. I tear out her copy which she accepts.

“My ride’s outside. Call me on my cell when you know what’s wrong.”

“I’ll have something for you in the next hour.”

She starts out my shop door and turns toward me once more. “Did you make up the basketball story?”

I laugh again, thinking maybe I should use my friend Charles Gramlich’s suggestion about coming up with a story as colorful as my eye. “No, but I can come up with a more exciting one if you like.”

She smiles and waves on her way out. On to work. I finish up the 92 Chevy truck and then hook up the Sentra. My notebook computer software comes up with some fail data in the ‘Mode 6’ category which I won’t bore anyone with. I decide it’s the rear oxygen sensor screwing up and causing a front sensor code, because it does its computations based on data from the rear sensor in a roundabout way. I then erase the code and take the Sentra for a test drive to see if the code comes back on. Just as I’m getting off the freeway exit to head back, the check engine light blinks back on. After confirming the same P2A00 code I call Ms. Grande to give her an estimate for my educated guess.

“You mean you’re guessing for that amount of money?” Grace sounds confused. I don’t blame her.

“Sometimes it comes down to that. I know now the light will return, and I also know you won’t have any trouble getting back to Texas because the rear sensor will only affect the gas mileage imperceptibly.”

Silence.

“Maybe I should get a second opinion.”

“I’ll tell you what. If you want a second opinion I’ll let you take the Sentra and I won’t charge you for the check. I know how this must seem to you.”

She mulls that over and promises to call me back which she does ten minutes later to confirm the repair. It takes a while to get an OEM sensor from Nissan, but I have it in and test driven before the end of the day. No light return, and I drove it twice as far. The ‘Mode 6’ data after the drive is all green pass so I’m sure the rear oxygen sensor caused the problem. That’s something worth filing away and noting here in the blogosphere. Grace arrives before closing to pick up the Sentra. She checks out my family photo wall while I run her credit card. She seems amused while signing the credit slip.

I hand her the keys. We exchange thank yous and Merry Christmas’s.

She pauses at the office door. “I saw your English Degree on the wall. How has that helped you fix cars?”

“It doesn’t but I write up a hell of an invoice.”

Grace laughs and nods on her way out which sounds like little silver chimes. :)

STORM Book Trailer

2011-12-21T07:04:00.000-08:00

Here's my new book trailer for STORM. With what I'm seeing around the publishing world we're going to need all the gizmo stuff we can get to sell anything. :)

The Dark Lord Gets Clocked

2011-12-19T10:46:00.000-08:00

Since getting my weight back down to 160 last year, I’ve been pursuing all my old hobbies like scuba diving, backpacking, and basketball. Most of the guys I play basketball with range from their late teens to early thirties. I still get up and down the outside court, play defense, and shoot pretty well. They call me OG, which stands of course for old guy or old geezer. This Sunday I went up for a rebound while one of my younger compatriots flew in from the side and clocked me with an elbow. I saw stars so I knew it was a bad one. I signaled for a sub while my young friend followed me around, ‘OG… OG… are you okay? I’m sorry, man’. I absolved him of all blame immediately. If you play ball and you don’t jump higher than a few inches, you will eventually meet with someone’s elbow, because they get up there. Now for the funny part. I went home to ice it up immediately, because I knew the kid hit me square on the brow and from experience it was probably a hairline fracture. To keep it from closing up, all you can do is ice it. It won’t keep the color away but at least I’d be able to see out of it.

I bring Saint Joyce her tea as the Dark Lord this morning at 5:30 as usual, complete with – “dum dum dum dum dum daaahhhh… It’s the Dark Lord… get up you little slacker!”

Saint Joyce blinks up at me blearily and then shoots up into a sitting position. “Oh my God!”

I start laughing because although I hadn’t looked yet because I was busy feeding the stray cats and making her tea, I knew my elbowed eye socket was probably looking real pretty. See, it hadn’t colored up last night. That doesn’t usually happen right away, so this is Saint Joyce’s first look.

“Well, there goes the holiday photos,” she remarks, making a face.

“Nope. We’ll make some memorable ones. Like all my other horrendous looking cuts, slices, swelled up hands and busted knuckles, Colin will be following me around with the usual ‘did you cry, Pa… did you cry?’”

Saint Joyce laughs, having seen my Grandson Colin’s reaction to all my viewable injuries. "I guess you're right, Dark Lord."

I thought I’d go for a few chuckles with this morning’s picture. Good thing I had already done my author photo. :)

COLD BLOODED Trailer

2011-12-16T12:04:00.000-08:00

I finished my book trailer for COLD BLOODED. I think it's straight and to the point, hitting some highlights I've featured here. Any comments are welcome. Boy, this marketing is getting complicated. Imagine - authors at one time just wrote books. Those days are over. :)

Book Trailer Showcase

2011-12-15T05:49:00.000-08:00

The banner for Book Trailer Showcase on the right is not a paid advertisement. Today is their grand opening with free giveaways and free advertisements for authors to try them out. I decided to give them a try with membership and ad package, but they have a free tryout for authors’ submissions during their startup. I figured my writing friends might want to take a look. I’m going to be working on making a book trailer for COLD BLOODED, and I already have it up in their mystery/thriller book page. Raine… I know you have a great trailer for ‘HOTTER THAN HELL’. :) If any of you feel like taking a look at the new ad site just click on the banner.

2005 Ford F150 5.4L Trouble

2011-12-09T13:07:00.000-08:00

Remember, marketing never stops. Get COLD BLOODED on Kindle or COLD BLOODED on Nook. :)

Another rare Nilson Brothers Garage irate customer interaction day came early in the Christmas season. Two weeks ago a gentleman I’ll refer to as Trucker Ford stopped in with a rough idling 2005 F150 with 5.4L engine. These have individual ‘coil on plug’ assemblies which take the place of ignition wires and single coils like the old days. Care has to be taken with this vehicle because most customers drive them until they miss or the scheduled light duty recommended 100,000 mile spark plug change, whichever comes first. As I’ve covered in older posts COP's, Plugs, this is a very tricky ordeal because the plugs break and strip out the threads in the head. The initial interaction with Trucker went like this.

“My truck just started missing and the check engine light’s on.”

“How many miles are on it?” I asked.

“Ah… about 95,000.”

I’m hoping he’s had the severe duty recommendation for his truck with a 60,000 mile spark plug service done. “Have you ever had a tune up done on the vehicle?”

“No,” Trucker’s eyeballing me with suspicion. “The book says 100,000 miles for spark plugs. Anyway, how much to check it out?”

I quote him my diagnostic fee, which includes testing and my advanced software scanner on my notebook computer which can read the more intricate ‘Mode 6’ data. I explain that to him. Trucker ain’t havin’ any.

“I can get an AutoZone code read for nothing.”

“Yeah, you can,” I agree.

“What if I go get the codes read and come back with the parts they say will fix it?”

“I don’t work like that. AutoZone is a great ‘Do It Yourself’ place for people repairing their own vehicles. I don’t put on their parts or follow their repair recommendations.”

“Okay, fine!” Trucker blurts out with a helpless arm wave. “If I do need a tune-up, how much to do it?”

I’m thinking, hell’s bells… I mean silver bells, it’s Christmas. I explain how I take the vehicle in and after a complete computer diagnostic I wait for the vehicle to cool, take off the coil on plug assemblies, crack the plug loose a quarter turn, and leave penetrating oil in the spark plug wells overnight to prevent breakage which can happen anyway. I quote him the ballpark price for all ‘COP’s’ and spark plugs, along with the various filters. I also tell him I’ll include the diagnostic in the price if it turns out to be tune-up related. I change all the ‘Coil on Plug’ assemblies when I tune these because the surest way to have an angry customer comeback is to not change them. I include them as a package deal at a little over cost, way lower than list. Trucker gets apoplectic. I listen to his tirade for a moment before holding up a hand and interrupting because he’s rapidly nearing the magic words that end in physical expulsion from Nilson Brothers Garage.

“Hold it! You’re under no obligation to do anything here. Please go have your vehicle looked at anywhere you wish. I don’t compete with AutoZone or Tune-up Masters or any other shop. Calm down and I’ll get you a copy of the estimate to take with you.”

Trucker’s still grumbling but waits until I run him off an estimate copy to take.

“Fat chance I’d ever come in here again.” Trucker takes his final parting shot before slamming the driver’s side door and shooting out of the shop.

Trucker Ford came back with his vehicle running even rougher and a receipt that looked like one you get from ‘Back Yard Bob’ – tiny universal booklet type, no business name, no state license, no EPA number, no individual parts list, and one word scrawled next to a hand written labor title: Tune-up. He hands me the receipt, red faced, and steaming.

“I got the damn tune-up done like you said and it runs worse than it did before!”

Okay, now I’ve been around the block a few times. I’m relatively competent in customer relations, even with difficult ones. First step is not to go on defense when I have not yet even laid a hand on the vehicle in question. Since there’s really nothing but a piece of paper with a few hundred dollars gone with the wind noted on it I hand it back to him.

“Mr. Ford, I’ll have to return you to our dimension for this conversation to continue. If you insist on speaking from an alternate reality, this discussion is over. What’ll it be?”

Trucker’s hands tighten into fists, the one holding his sacred receipt turns it into a wrinkled ball. He gradually gets a grip before opening his mouth to recite the magic words of expulsion. “Well… what can you do?”

“A complete diagnostic, only it won’t be included in the work cost.”

“Shit!”

Yeah, I know. You have hundreds of dollars gone and no one to blame but the guy in the mirror. “Have you tried going back to the place that did the tune-up?”

Trucker gets suddenly reluctant to speak. He dances around from one foot to another for a moment while looking around the shop. “It was a friend of a friend. He’s gone back to LA. Can I leave the truck with you now?”

I hesitated because I’m in my seventh decade so problem jobs that an unknown number of hands have already screwed around with don’t excite me like they once did. Trucker’s return from alternate reality has softened me up a little so I write a real estimate and have him sign it. A few good things surface during the physical check, and my in depth computer scan. It appears the misfires have not yet killed the very expensive catalytic converters and the only code is a random misfire code. The fuel pressure and fuel injector readings look good and the physical check reveals LA Bob did not break any plugs although they turn out to be not the updated plug Ford has a Tech Bulletin out on. I call up Trucker and give him the news. He reacts a little off key which I expected.

“You mean to tell me I still need a tune-up and it’s going to cost me three times what I’ve already blown on one!?”

Concise and accurate. “Yes, that is correct.” No use getting wordy here.

“What about the money I already dumped in it?”

“That’s between you and your friend of a friend. I’ll save all the parts for you, but it looks like all he changed were the plugs. You’re lucky they’re only the wrong ones and he didn’t break the old ones or strip the threads taking them out. That’s a blessing. One broken plug repair or stripped thread amounts to more than you paid him.”

“Shit!”

I wait without comment because anything else I say won’t make him any happier.

“Go ahead and do it.”

Since it’s Christmas I kicked in the diagnostic fee; but as I suspected, neither the truck running great nor the reduced bill pleased Trucker. He paid the bill without comment, took the keys, and away he did fly like the down of a thistle. Like I’ve always said, if you want a pat on the back in this business, best to take a couple Advil and do it yourself. :)

That’s all for this update, but if you’re appreciative of the information, here is a link to my new novel COLD BLOODED for Nook and Kindle. If you’re kind enough to read it and like it, please review it on the site you purchase it from. Thank You! Every little bit helps my writing gig. :)

Occupy Dissected by Adam Carolla

2011-12-02T10:31:00.000-08:00

Warning! This audio contains foul language as Adam Carolla dissects the Occupy Movement to perfection. He has the whole foul mess figured out to its root. Hilarious and right on the money.

COLD BLOODED Release!

2011-11-22T06:43:00.000-08:00

Released on Kindle edition with preview here: COLD BLOODED

When I finished my first novel back in 1977, I figured an author writes a book, publishers scramble to contract it, and nothing is left to do but attend book signings and rake in the money... yeah right. :) Deep down, I suspected it wasn't really that easy because I scraped together a real career to pay real life bills while pursuing another passion of mine - fixing cars and trucks. Writing acts as an ephemeral outlet for the characters and stories flitting constantly through my head. When Double Dragon Publishing's Carnal Desires Line contracted my novel LANCELOT and then Wild Child Publishing contracted COLD BLOODED the heady but small dream of using these initial credits to get an agent seemed within my grasp... yeah right. As my writing friends know, we authors now own the promotion side of publishing. When a publishing house is nice enough to give an author a break, we'd love to reciprocate by making their decision a profitable one. COLD BLOODED combines many aspects I love reading and love writing: characters that haunt me with dialogue years after I've given them voice, humor, violence, and gray areas of right and wrong where good doesn't necessarily triumph without a little help from the dark side. :)

Cold Blooded Pre-Order Page

2011-11-12T08:44:00.000-08:00

COLD BLOODED

It appears since Wild Child Publishing has put up a pre-order page for COLD BLOODED, they may not postpone the release date any longer. My writer friends know this means it is my responsibility to promote what I have spent three years trying to get published. :) Many of my automotive readers have e-mailed me their thanks for answering questions and have recommended putting up a donation gizmo so I could get recompense for my efforts. I hate the word donation so for those of you, and I get thousands of hits on my automotive pages, thank you all for the suggestion but if you want to contribute, and action/adventure fiction appeals to you, take a walk on the wild side of COLD BLOODED. :)

Nick, my writer/assassin character, decides after ten years of black ops assassinations it's time for a change. Against the wishes of his shadow government bosses he has inexplicably managed to become a bestselling author with a string of novels about an assassin named Diego. The novels have made him world famous and provided a cover for his overseas sanctions. He bought a beautiful place in Pacific Grove, California near the ocean where he treks down to his favorite spot at Otter's Point every morning he's not away on assignment. But Nick feels something's missing.

A sometime employer Nick takes on sanctions from when they coincide with the wishes of his government sponsors, orders the death of a woman in the witness protection program. Nick sees something in the woman's picture reminding him of someone he knew long ago. After a brief journey up to the restaurant in Northern California where his potential target, Rachel Hunter, works as a waitress, Nick makes a decision to alter his lifestyle. Hayden Tanus, the CEO of Tanus Import/Export looks out the window of his plush office on the Upper East Side of Manhattan wondering briefly if Rachel Hunter was finally dead. The fifty caliber bullet made a small hole in his window and a large one as it exited his head.

In the following days, playing the role of famous author doing research for his new novel, Nick enters Rachel's life. He inadvertently triggers an unforeseen chain of events launching him in a cross country flight with Rachel, her daughter Jean, and Deke the dog. Rachel has secrets. The people still wanting her dead are about to find out a cold blooded killer now stands in their way and body counts mean absolutely nothing to him.

That's my man, Nick, and here is the scene and short story to give potential readers a little preview: Cold Blooded Scene

New Pricing

2011-11-09T09:12:00.000-08:00

I knew once all the brick and mortar book stores were on the downswing, that the great pricing on Kindle, Nook, etc. would begin their rise. As I’ve checked pricing for e-books, Kindle editions, and Nook offerings on many of the bestselling authors, I noticed the prices of novels you could have purchased as a softbound book or ‘hardcover on sale’ in the past would be less than the no-book (e-book format) price now. One of Larry McMurtry’s novels had a Kindle price tag of $16.99 and another was listed for $11.99. Granted, there are many bargains out there, but my fears about climbing no-book prices are becoming ever more noticeable.

There are a number of ups and downs I see to this trend. One downtrend will be POD offerings. An on-line publisher offering e-book format novels for what used to be new paperback pricing will naturally have to raise the price on POD paperback and hardbound copies. Soon, this will translate to what happened long ago in video rentals when Blockbuster wiped out the small video outlets. When they were the only game in town the pricing escalated until they killed the goose that laid the golden egg and were wiped out themselves. I realize this new and exciting instant gratification era of e-books is here to stay with all the iPad and other phone tablet gizmos incorporating e-book availability along with first run movies. I wonder if small book stores may eventually make a comeback though, offering an up to date selection of comic books and graphic novels which are tough to enjoy on a Kindle, along with new and used books, including POD’s and audio books of some selections.

Some price escalation I’m sure has to do with the bestselling authors seizing an opportunity to make more than was ever possible on even a large print run hardbound offering. Until market resistance slows sales I don’t see the escalating e-book pricing coming down any time in the near future. One exception to this is the ‘novel series’. I’ve noticed some popular series authors offering their first in series books for next to nothing, thereby gaining sales from new readers jumping on board – and of course full price for the rest of their series run from the readers deciding to purchase later editions. Another exception as always are the unknown new authors and their offerings, many of which can be purchased at very reasonable prices.

It’s an exciting and scary time in the publishing industry and it’s going to stay that way for quite a while. :)

Here We Go Again

2011-11-08T06:35:00.000-08:00

Wild Child Publishing bumped COLD BLOODED to a November 22ond release date. Actually, I'm not disappointed because if this novel would have been released on time as promised, it would mean the cosmic balance had been disrupted. I'm glad I didn't pump up the release date all over the place. I'm safe here. Only a few friends and some folks I have locked in my closet visit the blog. I guess I better start writing up some entertaining posts until the 22ond. I nearly went full psycho watching Herman Cain's high tech lynching. It must be a real thrill to reach out for your fifteen minutes of fame after a couple decades by making up unsubstantiated libel to destroy a man's reputation simply because he doesn't believe in the same things you do. Anyway, I will announce any other boulders in the path of COLD BLOODED's release as they happen. :)

COLD BLOODED Publishing Date

2011-10-31T06:46:00.000-07:00

Well, some good news on the writing front. COLD BLOODED finally has a publishing date for November 22ond and a cover art sample. I'm also posting a scene from the book that is a microcosm of the novel, and a Halloween short story starring my characters.

Scene From COLD BLOODED

“Damn it, Nick! Who the hell are you?” Rachel demanded again in frustration.

“I’m a cold-blooded psychopath with just a tiny thread of humanity left,” Nick answered, patting her hand.

“Oh, c’mon, Nick, I’ve seen you with Jean and Deke.”

“I killed a woman once while I petted her dog. I blew Tanus’s head off with a fifty caliber sniper rifle and had brunch in Pennsylvania later in the day. Tanus hired me to kill you.”

“Oh my God!” Rachel pulled her hand away. She stared into Nick’s unblinking eyes and knew the truth. “You’re Diego?”

“Diego’s a campfire girl compared to what I am,” Nick replied bluntly. “Now that we know a little about each other, what say we work out a way to keep you and Jean in one piece?”

“How…I mean…I don’t know any more than I already told you.”

“I figure it this way, if the leak is plugged, my boss will get the hell off my back. It will make him more amenable to my taking on a team. We’re going to visit your safety deposit box and I’ll get a name or possibly a couple names. I’m going to trade the flash drives to my boss for an okay to sanction the top of the Tanus ladder.”

“What do you mean take on a team?” Rachel whispered, with sudden dawning realization of what team Nick meant.

“As you said, I have a nice place here. After ten years in this business, I’m getting a bit frayed around the edges and in a position to pick and choose what I want to do. Business takes me all over the world and –”

“…and you need a cover,” Rachel continued for him with growing horror. “You think your novelist persona is wearing thin. With a family, no one would suspect what you are.”

“I knew you were smart.” Nick smiled. “The only way this works is if I make it safe for you and Jean to get famous and photographed. Being a best-selling novelist’s wife will mean a lot of exposure, so naturally, all the people who want you dead are going to have to die first.”

“And if I refuse?”

“I return you to Grace and Tim. You and Jean hit the outlaw trail again with Deke. Maybe everything will be okay once the leak in the program is patched.”

“What if I go with Grace and Tim and trade your ass for something nice?” Rachel continued to stare directly into Nick’s eyes.

Rachel shivered slightly as a cold smile wavered and spread outwards on Nick’s mouth. The smile did not stretch to his eyes.

“Why don’t you sleep on it, and let me know what you decide when we walk to the beach tomorrow morning?”

“Does this proposition involve partnering up with you in the biblical sense?”

“You can sleep on that too.”

“When I saw you the first time at the restaurant, were you staking me out?”

“No, I was deciding whether to take Tanus out or not. The picture I had of you reminded me of someone from long ago. You still reminded me of her when I saw you in person.”

“And if I hadn’t?”

“Then I wouldn’t have been there to pull you out of the way last night.”

“Is this what they mean by being caught between a rock and a hard place?” Rachel nodded with a smile at Nick’s admission.

“No, this is between a rock and a cold, hard place,” Nick replied, smiling back.

“Nick.” Rachel looked up as Nick stood and gathered the glasses and wine bottle. “The woman you killed, she was bad…right?”

“She was to someone.”

Nick Halloween Story

A man about the size of a professional football linebacker with sandy hair approached Nick as he greeted Jean. He pointed at Jean. “Is this your little girl, pal?”

Deke the dog had been busily nipping at Jean’s shoes joyously. He turned with a low hum of a growl. Nick had walked down to Jean’s school with Deke as was their custom when picking her up in the afternoon. Nick wrote novels for a living, but he had an alter ego up until a few months before – he killed people, people sanctioned by a shadow government group now in turmoil. Nick glanced at Jean, the little eight year old spitting image of her Mom, Rachel. After a coast to coast adventure of murder and mayhem, Nick had garnered the adopted family he had sought to cover for his assassin line of work, but not without cost. His shadow government employer was now in a state of disarray, having tried to sanction Nick unsuccessfully. Nick exchanged grins with Jean, who knew all about him and what he was capable of.

“She is definitely my little girl.” Nick stuck out his hand. “Hi, I’m Nick McCarty.”

The man ignored the gesture, a leering frown spreading as he looked at Nick’s hand with contempt. “I know you. Big time novelist. Listen up, big time. I want her to stay away from my daughter. She’s a bad influence.”

Nick dropped the hand gesture, looking around at the crowd of parents meeting, greeting, and walking off with their children. Although not drawing a lot of attention, the man’s voice and size drew a few curious looks.

“Am not!” Jean countered before Nick could speak. “Lisa’s my friend. I know what you and her Mom are doing is bad.”

“Why you-”

As the man stepped toward Jean, Deke scrambled to put his sixty pound snarling bulk in front of her.

“Best not to make any rude movements,” Nick advised. “Deke doesn’t like people handling Jean. I’m sure we can work this out like adults.”

“Don’t give me any of that writer mumbo jumbo! Just make sure she stays away from Lisa.” The man walked away with only one final glaring look back.

Nick shook his head with a sigh. “Danger, you do know we are in a slightly precarious time with the US Marshall’s service knowing my business and everything, right?”

Jean, aka Danger, glanced around at the milling crowd of adults. At eight years old, with a cross country jaunt recently behind her involving witnessing death and torture, she understood survival very well. “I’ll tell you about it on the way home.”

She took Deke’s leash from Nick after shrugging into her school pack. Deke heeled immediately at her side. Nick followed her lead, grinning in admiration. He didn’t know what this drama was all about but he trusted Jean to be on the right side of it. When they were a block away from the school, Jean smiled up at Nick.

“Did you duct tape Mom into bed again this morning? I heard her scream at you while I was waiting on the sidewalk.”

“Don’t turn this on me, little missy – no I didn’t. I’ve put my childish pranks behind me. I put Jello in her slippers.”

Jean’s giggle turned into full blown laughter. “You… you should have stuck with the duct tape. Is Mom at work?”

“Yeah, she’s working the noon to eight shift at the café. Now, what have you done to garner an enemy like that gorilla I just met.”

“Lisa’s folks are dealing drugs. When I stayed overnight with her on Saturday a bunch of bad dudes showed up while we were watching a movie and banged on the door. Lisa’s folks jumped up in a rush from the couch. The Dad answered the door while Lisa’s Mom streaked into their kitchen. She brought out a bag and gave it to these gang-bangers Lisa’s Dad let in. It was drugs because one of the guys warned her Dad it better be good stuff and gave him a bag I figured had money in it.”

Jean made placating hand motions when she saw Nick’s Terminator visage spread over his countenance. “We weren’t in any danger, Nick… honest. I told Lisa later on she should hide when those guys come over, because the gang-bangers could get mad and kill everyone. I guess she must have told her parents. I knew I wouldn’t be able to go back over to her house after that.”

Nick put a hand on Jean’s shoulder. “You did right, Danger. Lisa should take your advice if her parents are dealin’. You’re a natural at imagining all the bad things that can happen.”

“Can’t you do something about it, Nick?”

Nick chuckled. “I can’t think of anything that wouldn’t endanger you and your Mom or get me sent to prison. Halloween’s coming. I was looking forward to taking you trick or treating with Deke. So is Nate. He told me he’s never taken anyone trick or treating.”

“I know, but Lisa is my best friend.”

“Think it through, Danger. I can’t waste your best friend’s parents, and I can’t wipe out everyone that would buy drugs from them. Add to that Lisa’s parents will not be easy to turn from the dark side. They’ve had a taste of easy money. If the fact they’re selling out of their home with their own daughter present to dangerous people doesn’t register with them, what the heck can I do to dissuade them?”

“You’ll think of something, Nick. Nate says you’re bored.”

“Nate needs to mind his own business. I’ll think about it but I’m not promising anything. Did you decide on being a witch or that goblin thingy?”

“I’m going with the witch, a pretty witch. Thanks Nick for helping Lisa.”

Nick grabbed Jean’s ponytail, giving it a shake. “Don’t thank me. I probably won’t be able to do anything.”

* * *

Three days later Nick engaged his partner Nate concerning Lisa’s parents.

“Let me get this straight. You’re taking a contract from an eight year old girl?”

Nick glared at Nate who was posturing with his ebony arms folded over his chest, a huge grin of disbelief highlighting his features. “You’re the one that told her I was bored. What do you think of my plan?”

“I think it’s nuts. We’ve sailed the high seas with you murdering, looting, and pillaging. You’ve gallivanted across country killing and torturing, all so you can have a little family of your own. Now, you’re trying to adjust two drug dealers’ attitudes to do right and put their criminal past behind them. How do you think I feel about your plan?”

“Well sure, it all sounds goofy when you blurt it out like that.”

Nate laughed. “Okay, what the hell, I’m in. You do realize we have enough money to hire it done.”

“What fun would that be? It’s a challenge. C’mon, I’ll share my little getaway with you I rigged up for something special. This’ll be the perfect test for it.”

Nate clapped a hand on Nick’s shoulder. “Only in Nick land is this a perfect test. Let’s go. I’m wagering Rachel doesn’t know a damn thing about this, does she?”

“Little doubt about that, my friend. Danger is the tightest lipped little girl in existence so unless you’re planning on spilling the beans, we’re safe from my lovely wife.”

“Yeah right,” Nate replied with a head shake, “I’ll look forward to seeing how that statement works out for you

* * *

“Oh my God… this is just… disturbing.” Nate walked around the all white room awestruck.

They were in the out of the way house on an acre of land Nick owned in the Carmel Valley. The subbasement Nick had paid a small fortune to build could only be accessed from an entrance in a stand of trees well away from the house. Gurneys evenly spaced in four sections of the room each had its own movable carrier of surgical implements. Everything in the room had been shielded in removable plastic. Nick turned off the white banks of lights which triggered black light banks next to them. Nate gasped. The entire inside walling and ceiling showed horrific images of mutilation and death only visible in black light. Soft music reminiscent of ‘The Exorcist’ began playing.

“I take it all back, partner. It’s not disturbing. It’s you. What do you do, come here to meditate?”

Nick chuckled. “I fixed it up over the last couple years after seeing the ‘Dexter’ series on TV. Rachel and Danger have been to the house, but you’re the first person I’ve brought down here.”

“Gee, thanks. I see what you mean about a test now. If you bring those two down here and they don’t see the light, they’re space aliens. On the other hand, what will you do if they don’t see the light?”

“Turn them into the cops.”

“That’s what you should do now,” Nate replied. “Did you have someone in mind when you created your house of horror?”

“Nope, just hedging my bets if I needed something out of someone I wanted to keep alive. I’ll give this a shot. We go tonight.”

“I’ll go scrounge up a van.”

* * *

Nick positioned Nate behind him and to his right before injecting Lisa’s parents with a boost to wake them up. They were naked and strapped to gurneys side by side. Their captors wore death masks, black gloves, and black hooded robes. The strapped in couple began to stir, and then groan, and then scream.

“Shut up!” Nick ordered, using his mask’s built in voice altering equipment. The couple shut up immediately with only muted sobs sounding from Lisa’s Mom. “Ray and Denise Santiago. I will be your host tonight. Answer only when asked something and hold nothing back. Get unhelpful and my associate and I will begin cutting things off. Are we clear?”

“Yes… yes, anything,” Ray answered.

“We’re recording, so list all your drug suppliers and network members you pass the drugs on to. Don’t forget to tell us meeting places, drops, and phone numbers. We don’t like small timers in our business.”

“You’ll kill us anyway! Please… we’ll tell you everything. Just let us go.”

Nick picked up a scalpel and sliced a shallow cut down Ray’s body from his neck to his groin. Screams filled the room. Denise begged her husband to tell. Ray listed all their contacts in a shaky, terror filled voice along with all requested information.

“Very nice,” Nick said. He turned to Nate. “Shall we let them go?”

Nate laughed. It was a blood curdling sound with his voice altered. “They will be in our business no matter what they say. Cut them up.”

The screams began again with renewed vigor until Nick ordered silence. “I will put you two under again. If you wake up in your house it would be extremely inadvisable to ever touch another drug.”

Nick gave them each another injection. When they passed out, Nick and Nate removed their masks.

“That was fun,” Nick said.

“That was horrifying, you… oh never mind. I’ll give you this much. If you were in charge of the DEA there would be no drug cartels. What next?”

“I sneak Mom and Pop back into their bed, and make a drop to a guy I know in the real DEA. We’ll keep an eye out for residual fallout in the form of gang-bangers angry with not getting their product. I may have to bring a few of them here for some follow-up questions. Main thing though is to see how reformed the Santiagos are.”

Nate glanced down at the unconscious Santiagos for a moment. “Nick, I doubt their reformation is in question. Their sanity is another thing. You are a very bad man, my friend.”

Nick sighed as he unstrapped the Santiagos. “I get an impossible mission and handle it with my usual expertise. What more can I do to satisfy your sensibilities, Nate?”

“Well, at least these two are still alive.”

“See? Who said I can’t show restraint, right?”

“Yeah, Nick, you’re a real peach.”

* * *

“All ready to go, Sabrina?” Nick asked.

“I’m Elvira, Mistress of the Dark,” Jean corrected him. “Where the heck do you get Sabrina out of this outfit?”

Jean was dressed all in black, including fingernails, eye shadow, and her Mom’s black wig. “C’mon, we have to pick up Lisa.”

“That was nice of her parents to let Lisa go trick or treating with us.”

“I don’t know how you did it, Nick, but her parents are so different, all in a couple days.”

“Maybe they saw the light.”

Jean giggled. “Not on their own they didn’t.”

Herman Cain

2011-10-28T10:46:00.000-07:00

Poverty Pimp Grand Wizard Supreme Al Sharpton decided to de-black Republican nominee for president, Herman Cain Libel. According to Sharpton, Cain says what whites want to hear, and that’s why he’s had such a meteoric rise in the polls. I didn’t know wanting less government, less taxes, more private sector jobs, and striving to get people away from the nanny state was a ‘White’ thing. Since I believe Al Sharpton to be a low-life, lying buffoon of a shyster, I had to take objection to his stunningly stupid rap of Mr. Cain – a man I admire more than anyone I’ve heard in decades. Herman Cain will be the first primary candidate for president I will be able to vote for without the lesser of two evils parameter in a long time.

Herman Cain represents everything any American of any hue would deem an honorable life of hard work. His parents worked hard, stayed together, and instilled an unshakable moral code in their son and his siblings. Cain went on to graduate from college with a BA degree in mathematics and an MA degree in computer science. He eventually worked up to the CEO position of a major corporation. He has been married to the same woman over four decades and has two children. Whether you disagree with his political views or not, allowing a racist rat like Al Sharpton to assail Cain’s character cannot go unchallenged, at least not by me. Here are only a few reminders of Sharpton’s moral fiber. It’s not that racist Al is a disgrace to his race, it’s that he’s a disgrace to any race, while the man he attacks is a credit to any race anywhere.

Sharpton's Legacy:

A 1983 episode of HBO's REAL SPORTS hosted by Bryant Gumbel featured an FBI tape of Sharpton discussing laundering drug money with a former mobster turned FBI informant, Michael Franzese.

Sharpton ordered by a court to pay his portion of a $345,000 judgment for slander during the 1987 Tawana Brawley hoax which led to violence in the streets over this race baiting degenerate’s championing of Brawley’s scam.

Sharpton inspired a 1991 deadly riot known as the Crown Heights Riot when he referred to Hasidic Jews as "Diamond merchants" and used other racist, anti-Semitic epithets. A 29 year old Hasidic student from Australia was then killed by a mob chanting, "Kill The Jew".

In 1995 Sharpton led a protest against a Jewish owned business, Freddy's Fashion Mart, from setting up a new location in an African American neighborhood. Sharpton incited such anti-Jewish hate a protestor inspired by Sharpton killed himself in a violent attack on the store culminating in an arson fire that took 8 lives.

'Occupy' This!

2011-10-26T09:29:00.000-07:00

The idiocy and shortsightedness running rampant in this ‘Occupy’ nonsense makes me wonder if logic has finally passed away, following the long illness and death of its sibling common sense. The point blunted by the media along with its whacky legion of Hollywood idiots who are themselves rich beyond common folks’ imaginings – no matter how you feel about homeless bums, naïve college dolts, and the unemployed and unemployable, THEY DON’T CREATE JOBS! Crapping up major cities’ parks and streets which will be billed to Mr. Working Taxpayer, and annoying the hell out of working adults trying to make a living is not striking out at ‘The Man’. The recently deceased Steve Jobs was ‘The Man’ for millions of people employed by his hugely successful Apple Computer Inc., and the countless hordes enjoying the technological advances both at work and home he made possible by being ‘The Man’. Bill Gates and all the rest of Fortune Five Hundred Companies not on the government dole or up to their necks in political storms of government corruption like Solyndra also employ millions, give billions to charity, and supply us rubes with jobs, food, entertainment, appliances, fuel, and an infinite number of conveniences we would never have to enjoy without ‘The Man’. We don’t need to take down ‘The Man’. We don’t need meaningless backdoor welfare in the form of government created jobs. What we really need is to stop destroying ‘The Man’, better known as the taxed to death Private Sector. They, unlike politicians and government workers, are accountable. They must produce viable products and services or fail. Their companies hold our 401K’s and retirement funds for us dupes out here who know better than to count on Social Security to be around when the ‘Entitlements’ bill comes due after the politicians get through buying votes with it.

The prime example of this nutcake mentality driving the ‘Occupy’ movement is on display for all to see in my business city of Oakland, CA. We have ‘Occupy’ idiots frothing at the mouth in downtown Oakland over ‘The Man’ while costing us poor saps paying Oakland taxes a fortune. These morons are actually protesting in a city where city government has already chased away every major corporation that used to be here, supporting the community with jobs and services, with exorbitant taxes and extortion. There’s no ‘The Man’ left in Oakland. Only small businesses clawing out a living remain here. I wish Oakland Government would get ‘The Man’ back with huge tax breaks and favors, because unlike the professional nutcake ‘Occupy’ people I’m not jealous of anyone earning more than me or a huge amount more than me. It’s always amazed me when these cretins wanting to steal what they haven’t worked for because of class envy automatically exempt athletes and entertainers taking in tens of millions of dollars a year. If ‘Occupy’ can be expansive in their embrace of millionaire and in some cases billionaire celebrities and sports figures, why not a corporate CEO running a profitable company NOT taking government handouts while employing millions.

I embrace them all – the CEO’s, the Celebrities, the Sports Figures… all of them… all the rich. They’re not stealing from me. They don’t have the power to steal from me. Only politicians buying votes while creating entitlement programs steal from me. If I don’t like a CEO’s product, I don’t buy it. If I don’t like a Celebrity, I stop going to their movies or shows. If I don’t like a Sports Figure, I don’t watch or go to the game. I absolutely detest what my government does in waste, destroying companies our retirement funds depend on, promoting illegal immigration, and stealing money to do it by taxing every facet of our daily lives – yet I can’t stop them or shun them because unlike the CEO’s, Hollywood Idiots, and Sports Figures the government can take everything I have away from me and put me in prison. I'm choosing sides. I love you 'MAN'. :)

The Timeless Factor

2011-10-15T07:16:00.000-07:00

A piece of good news on the writing front besides my continued launch into self-publishing land on Amazon once again – this weekend I’m working on the final edits for COLD BLOODED from Wild Child Publishing. God only knows once the finals get turned in this weekend when WCP will actually give it a ‘for sale’ date with listing, but I’ll at least know it’s finished and in line for a launch date.

I figured this might be an occasion for posting about another writer’s nemesis – time passing. I didn’t do it consciously, but COLD BLOODED is rather timeless. I wrote the novel without real time stuff that could have dated it. There is no mention of real life events in the world. It’s a completely fictional account of a writer/assassin who decides his life needs more than the next contract killing. Much to his shadow-government bosses’ displeasure, Nick has a string of bestselling novels featuring an assassin, where he has used bits and pieces of his jobs as fuel for his writing.

He one day gets a contract to kill a young woman. When Nick visits the restaurant she works at in the Witness Protection program, he makes a decision to alter his lifestyle. He travels across country and puts a fifty caliber bullet through the head of the guy who ordered the hit. Then it’s roller coaster ride time as he icily kills everything in the way of his plan to save the woman, her little girl, and their dog named Deke.

My main point here is although I signed the contract for this novel in February of 2009, nothing dates the book in the writing, which as it turns out is more important than I ever thought it would be. The lesson I’ve learned here – unless you have a series already sold and churning them out one after another for publication, there can be a hell of a long time between when you sell something and when it actually is listed for sale. If your characters exist in the real world they better have a timeless bubble to complete their journey through your fictional plot. Otherwise by the time your book cover shows up on a publishing website, they may be as stale as three year old Oreo cookies. :)

Cover Design

2011-10-11T09:21:00.000-07:00

I’m considering self publishing my teen witch horror novel STORM. Here’s the cover I designed for it. I know it’s not professional, but as a born pessimist, I’m not going overboard on buying cover illustrations with all the frills. :) I think this is catchy, but I’d appreciate any feedback on it I can get. It will be offered on Amazon as a Kindle book. I’ve already sent out fifty queries on my novel HARDCASE and I’ve sent nearly that many out on STORM. It’s such a great YA novel in my opinion I can’t see waiting any longer to try it out on Amazon. My others will be following in short order. :)

Confused Saudi Arabian Student

2011-10-07T09:58:00.000-07:00

We have to get this report from the foreign press because apparently the American media has decided to launch a silent jihad. Every time ‘Middle Eastern’ sappers test our flight security, the news media hide the name, identity, and country of origin until it gets to be yesterday’s news. Such is what happened on this American Eagle flight from New York to Indianapolis Sapper. A twenty year old ‘confused’ Saudi Arabian poster boy for terrorist dry runs tried to open the plane’s exit door in flight. Some passengers escorted him back to his seat and kept him there. They used incredible restraint conceived in the fact they know if they kicked the living shit out of this clown trying to kill them all, the American media and the ACLU lawyers would have been waiting on the tarmac to haul them directly to prison without a trial.

Now here’s where the story journeys into Twilight Zone land. The plane gets down. Authorities take the ‘Dry Run Poster Boy’ into custody for interrogation. No charges are filed because he’s not on a watch list. He’s caught in numerous lies, and our smiling constables label him ‘confused’. For God’s sake, what in hell does it take to get a ticket to our Guantanamo Terrorist Resort, which by the way should never be closed. I have a solution for ending all these ‘Dry Runs’ by our Religion of Submission citizens and non-citizens. Do anything on a flight that requires passengers to detain you and get an immediate all expenses paid vacation to lovely Guantanamo Bay for six months. I guarantee these ‘Dry Runs’ and sapper attempts would end immediately.

We are all on our own when we fly, folks. You are free to racially profile and move about the cabin now. We know who is trying to kill us even if the government/media complex has decided a few hundred of us will be an acceptable loss, and whitewashing all attempts to the real thing are just acts of ‘confusion’. You all can do what you want, but when one of these ‘confused’ ‘dry-runners’ get up to play with the exit door, or lock themselves in the bathroom long enough to assemble a bomb, on my flight, I’m goin’ ta get me some.

Remember, you have to be alive to be labeled a racist and xenophobe, so make sure you get to the ground first. Don’t let the first thought you have as your in flight ‘Confused Arab Student’ yanks on the exit door be ‘I wonder if I’ll get into trouble if I rip this clown’s head off’. Rip it off and pull the ‘confused’ card on the ACLU lawyers when you get to ground alive – “Gee, I thought he was trying to kill us… my bad.” Believe me, except for a few of the ever present enablers, the rest of the passengers will be lining up to testify on your behalf.

Mazda 3.0L Engine Tune-Up

2011-09-30T09:09:00.000-07:00

I have received a number of E-mails questioning why tuning up a Mazda 3.0L V6 engine is so expensive. I believe the subject is coming up now because so many of the 2000’s Mazda vehicles are getting into the maintenance mileage for spark plug replacement or are setting misfire codes as some of my E-mailers are experiencing. Since one of my customers with a 2003 Mazda MPV with 3.0L engine began setting a misfire code, I took some pictures so as to explain the expense.

Here’s what it looks like with the hood open and nothing touched.

Here it is with the plastic engine cover removed and the upper metal intake manifold/throttle assembly in view that must be removed to replace the rear spark plugs and coil on plug assemblies. The coil on plug assemblies look much like their Ford counterpart as in the second picture. They short out underneath the manifold. When doing one of these vehicles I always replace the coil on plug assemblies and give the customer a break on the set.

These pictures shows the upper intake off and the valve covers exposed where the spark plug holes are. Another item that should be replaced on one of these tune-ups is the PCV hose from the back of the upper intake manifold. It is a pattern failure on these engines and deteriorates at the intake fitting. I had already replaced my customer’s hose in the past on this one and the improved replacement from Mazda showed very little wear. Anyway, this is the reason why these are so expensive to tune up. That ends this installment of the Automotive inside baseball blog post. :)

Delta Smelt

2011-09-24T08:44:00.000-07:00

The Department of the Interior under Kenneth Salazar sent two of their moonbeam scientists in before Federal Judge Oliver Wanger to argue why the delta smelt minnow like fish is more important than California’s Central Valley agriculture Insanity. The Interior Department has managed to send the Central Valley into a depression with forty percent unemployment and caused grocery costs sky rocketing to consumers across the nation. Judge Wanger called these two cheese-balls out, stating the Interior Department used ‘bad faith’, and claimed their testimony was "an attempt to mislead and to deceive the court into accepting not only what is not the best science, it's not science." Finally, someone stands up for human beings over fish bait. The Central Valley of California is arguably the richest agricultural area in the country, which feeds the nation. Using junk science based in the whacko crapolla of ‘a mosquito is fish bait is a frog is a tree is a boy’ reasoning, the Interior Department for reasons unfathomable to even a federal judge, has sought to destroy the nation’s grocery basket in California’s Central Valley. They’ve wrecked the economy there, put whole areas out of work, ruined the lives of countless people, and for what? Fish bait. I can only conclude the Interior Department under that incompetent boob Salazar must be on a mission to emulate the third world where populations regularly starve to death.

This is all right in line with the Feds threatening to imprison the guy in Idaho who thought his own kids’ lives were more important than a grizzly bear. Maybe Judge Wanger’s stand will call into question all of these EPA and Interior Department Eco-Zombies acting as a real life plague on mankind.

'Ringer'

2011-09-19T14:24:00.000-07:00

Although I was not impressed with the advertisements for ‘Ringer’, I recorded and watched Sarah Michelle Gellar’s new series pilot. Let me state first I never missed an episode of ‘Buffy’. I watched them all with my kids until they left the house to go out on their own. After they moved out I was still tasked with the responsibility to tape all episodes for their viewing convenience. I didn’t mind because I was hooked on ‘Buffy’ completely. They even bought me the DVD set for my birthday one year. Because I like Gellar, I hope she finds an audience for her new show. I’m not it. ‘Ringer’ was without doubt the goofiest premise for a TV series I’ve seen in quite a while. Actually… that statement is unfair, because I have no idea what the premise was for it. I pulled the ripcord at the halfway point before my brain began to emulsify, and turned to my new Kindle for solid entertainment. Pointless, humorless, and mind-numbingly dull are the only words I can think of to describe what I did see of it. Good luck, Buffster. For old times’ sake, I wish you well. :)

Medal of Honor

2011-09-17T07:10:00.001-07:00

Sgt. Dakota Meyer rushed back into an Afghanistan hellhole five times to save his fellow soldiers in spite of an air support blunder which eventually cost the lives of four Marines Into Hell. His last foray was on foot to retrieve the bodies of his comrades. Alongside him was Staff Sgt. Juan Rodriguez-Chavez who received the Navy Cross for his heroic actions. They left no one behind but the dead bodies of their enemy. When your head gets close to exploding over the media’s obsession with self indulgent Hollywood idiots and gang bangers, remember we have hundreds of thousands of young men and women like Marines, Meyer and Rodriguez-Chavez, who believe in something beyond their next narcissistic moment.

Sgt. Meyer stated: "Hero! I'm the furthest thing from a hero. Every man and woman who serves is a hero," adding that he would accept the award "on behalf of the Marine Corps and the guys who died." In the typical fashion of our young soldiers who do not spend their days staring into a mirror, Sgt. Meyer proves beyond any shadow of a doubt we have hope for the future.

Questions Anyone?

2011-09-15T06:25:00.000-07:00

Amazon now puts readers in touch with the authors directly through their Kindles Ask The Author. If a reader has a question now regarding the book being read, they can address the question directly to the author. It’s a brave new world for authors, but a pretty ingenious selling point. I know many authors will be unappreciative of the potential feedback on that kind of instantaneous scale. It could mean developing a cadre of fans too, anxious for other novels the author has for sale or is in the process of writing. I’m intrigued with the prospect. Amazon certainly has decided to break new ground in the publishing world with this idea. I can easily imagine someone reading the free excerpt from ARCHANGEL or MONSTER and firing off a question or a statement of outrage. :)

Muslim Monsters

2011-09-13T07:04:00.000-07:00

Well, here’s another case of the United States not giving those wild and crazy guys in the religion of submission an easy target to vent on Subhumans . Since they didn’t want to cross the border into Afghanistan and get wiped off the face of the earth by young soldiers with the Stars and Stripes on their sleeves, these murderous animals ambushed a bus full of kids in their own nation. There is no hell hot enough for these child killing bastards. What possible statement can be made in a massacre of your own children? It says to me ‘I am a creature from the Dark Ages and I need a nice Hellfire missile to light me up’. Where do these monsters go after their heroic ambush of a school bus, to the Mosque for a quick dip on their prayer rugs to Allah? What words do they use with their heads bowed, ‘I killed some kids, praise be to God’?

Mad World

2011-09-12T10:42:00.000-07:00

Boy, I no sooner write a comment about Islamists blaming the US Government and the Israelis for 9/11 than one of their idiot representatives does exactly that Blame Us. This is not one of your wild eyed sheiks of Osama’s old cauldron of terrorist murderers. It’s a former Malaysian Premier - Mahathir Mohamad. Want to guess how many billions of our hard earned dollars the state department pours into his particular third world sandpit? I know I don’t, because there’s only so much of this crap you can take before your head explodes without any help from one of the Islamist underwear bombers. Minnie Me Mohamad wants to blame Bush for the Twin Towers. I want to blame Bush for a few other things. I blame him for not shutting off all immigration from anywhere immediately after 9/11 when he had all of America with him, except for a few of our own traitors. He could have built an impenetrable barrier on our borders and stated all travelers from Muslim countries were persona non grata until further notice, like when hell freezes over or they have a complete reformation within Islam, because both would happen about the same time. He should have ordered the immediate drilling and refining necessary for complete oil independency on an emergency war footing.

Instead, we have our leaders blaming everyone other than the actual culprits – Islamists. They are responsible for widespread terror all over the world, and massacre each other in mind blowing numbers when they don’t get to murder us. Our government bows and scrapes to the religion of submission here, while calling the Islamist nutbags ‘folks’. Even the mention of the words Islamist/Terrorist brings the outrage of Muslim representatives still pressing for and overlooking female subjugation, female genital mutilation, honor killings, and the unconstitutional adherence to Sharia Law within our supposedly sovereign borders. It’s a world turned upside down, and one that should never be taken lightly. The only thing standing between us and being a foot licking satellite of an Islamist Alliance is the Second Amendment that must be protected at all costs on a day to day basis. I want to see a present day Diogenes, with symbolic lamp of truth, looking for an Arab Ally instead of an honest man. He better be an immortal because I don’t like his chances.

I Remember

2011-09-11T06:31:00.000-07:00

Yep, I remember 9/11 and I damn sure remember who did it!

Naked Nuts

2011-09-08T06:01:00.000-07:00

The only saving grace in this news item Freaks is the temperature in San Francisco. It’s usually very cool even in the summer by late afternoon. That fact, and apparently not the nitwits running the craziest city on earth, is what will limit exposure to the ‘naked guys’ from the infamous Castro District of our lovely city by the bay. Instead of simply ordering the police to arrest these whackos and fine them until they alter their behavior, a new law is being considered – no sitting anywhere naked without something underneath. Really?! Every time I read about an act of idiocy beyond comprehension like this new law the song ‘Mad World’ starts up inside my head. I’m sure allowing the inmates to run the asylum by the bay will be fabulous for the tourist trade, not to mention anyone in their right mind ever bringing their kids to the city. Let me just finish with this comment… eeeeehhhhheeeewwww!

Seal Dive

2011-09-05T12:07:00.000-07:00

I went diving Saturday morning with my new video camera case and old Nikon L18. I didn’t expect much due to the ocean roughness other than some more rather grainy movies, but it’s still a kick to actually record stuff now. To my surprise a huge seal played tag with me out in the kelp bed far off shore. When he whipped around me the first time to check me out, it was incredible. I’ve been diving off Otter’s Point and Point Lobos for decades and this guy was the biggest I’ve seen. I only recorded one stint with him swimming away with me following because he would come out of nowhere, not giving me a chance to even point the camera for a close-up. I’ve also recorded a segment of what it looks like from way out there in the kelp bed. A dive where I have to kick out to the calmer and deeper kelp bed’s outer region is usually a couple hours in the water, including climbing back over the kelp bed toward shore after most of the tank air is depleted. It’s a tedious endeavor and one that must be done slowly. By the time I reach shore I have to stand still for at least five minutes before taking off my fins because it still feels like I’m floating in my head and lasts for hours to a lesser degree. At least I remembered to bring my own regulator this trip. :)

Who's Next?

2011-09-03T06:07:00.000-07:00

The religion of submission kicked around another new idea inEgypt to promote worldwide healing – old school Extermination. A few of Islam’s beloveddisciples in Pharaoh land decided if Christians were to be exterminated and alltrace of their places of worship to be burned all would be well. This is aclassic example, although only surprising to our media and politicians cringingevery time Muslim hate groups here yell Islamaphobia because they feel slightedwhen asked to abide by the laws of our nation while living here. See, many naïveimbeciles in the media and even congress think that well, if we just let them massacrethe Jews, peace will reign for the rest of us. Well folks, after they’ve comefor the Jews, guess who really is next. Unfortunately, there are too many sheeprunning in the same circles who would sacrifice Christians next in a heartbeat.

The Soldiers Medal

2011-08-29T13:29:00.000-07:00

Staff Sergeant Matt Blain heard the trouble call – an armored vehicle had tipped over in an Afghani raging river Heroism. Shedding gear as he ran, Matt saw one of the passengers had been ejected from the vehicle and was being carried away by the water. He dived in and pulled him to shore before diving again into the water in order to rescue the three men still trapped in the armored vehicle. He single-handedly pulled open a five hundred pound door according to one of the trapped men, Captain Jim Fallon, to facilitate the rescue. For his bravery, the army issued him a very rare ‘The Soldiers Medal’ for heroism outside of combat.

Sergeant Blaine is a veteran of Afghanistan with a ‘Purple Heart’ when a land mine he had stepped on but was too light in weight to set off blew up the Humvee behind him at the end of 2007. After shrugging off the blast, Blaine helped the other soldiers out of the damaged Humvee.

When told about the medal on the phone, Blain told them to mail it to him. He didn’t want to be singled out because he had not been the only one to rush toward the vehicle in the river. The army sent a Colonel instead with a contingent to pin it on him. I know a lot of folks wonder what kind of soldiers are fighting for our way of life in a hellhole like Afghanistan – soldiers like Staff Sergeant Matt Blain. Oh hell yeah!