Happy Birthday, America - from a "10-year-old" citizen :)

Aloha,

 

Depending on your political views, they are either undocumented or illegal – but they are here.
And, whether you agree or not, the current “batch” of immigrants in today’s news are, in part, the future of this greatest of nations.
They are only the latest in a long line of settlers and migrants that include people like screenwriter Ang Lee (Taiwan), journalist Joseph Pulitzer (Hungary) and authors such as Thomas Mann (Germany) and Elie Wiesel (Rumania.)

Just so you know, I strongly disagree that anyone who breaks the laws of the land be granted a Disney-style fastpass admission to the United States.
I say this because it’s a major pain in the arse to earn a Green Card, and thus live here legally in the U.S. - but that’s the way it should be.

It took seven-and-a-half years of bureaucracy and red tape to take me from my point of arrival in Washington, D.C. to a Los Angeles-area conference room.
It was there that a United States Federal Judge stood and gave me (and hundreds of other fellow immigrants) a round of applause after a simple ceremony that concluded when we pledged allegiance to this amazing land of the free and home of the brave.

Today, when people ask my background, I simply say “I’m Irish by birth and American by choice.”

So, what should we do with the millions of immigrants “hiding in the shadows,” as some call it?

I don’t know, it’s way above my pay grade, but I’ll tell you one thing.

The vast majority made a long, agonizing choice to come to America.

Some said goodbye to the security of a job and a home.

Many left families to fend for themselves in the hope that American dollars sent via Western Union could turn around severe financial issues in the homestead.

All left a past behind so they could build a future.

One arrived at Dulles Airport on Jan.15, 1996, with two suitcases, no job, home or friends bar one.

We all came here looking for the American Dream.

And, ten years ago, yesterday, on July 3, 2003, I became a naturalized citizen.

So, happy birthday, America.

I love ya, man!

 

(Here's a great video tribute to earlier immigrants set to Neil Diamond's "Coming to America.")

 

 

 

Co-hosting IWSG & A New WIP is Born

Aloha,



Thanks to El Gran Capitán Alejandro for the chance to co-host the Insecure Writers’ Support Group … and after last month, I too, am so very glad we’re not changing the format or the name of ISWG…

Wait a sec – whoa Betsy…

...Speaks “ISWG” out loud…

Ah knickers…

C'mon, man, it's IWSG.

Say it again… IWSG

One more time... IWSG !!!

(Coughs)… I mean the IWSG.

Anyhoo, it’s always a pleasure to help his Cavanaughness, and I’ll zip through much of the current IWSG membership alongside my co-hosts, the wonderful Nancy Thompson and the delightful Heather Gardner.

For once, my issue is simple (PTL, I hear many say :)

I started WIP#2 Monday.

I can’t share much about the story, except to say it’s about this great, white Poodle that takes over a beach in New Jersey and creates havoc over one, long summer season.

(It’s set in the 1970s – and my working title is PAWS – but I’m not sold on it yet.)

Seriously though, if I can recap where my writing head is:

·         WIP#1, a memoir, heads to a professional editor this week for final polishing, so things look good there.

·         The days as a weekly and daily beat reporter are well behind me.

·         My blog is doing well (and I remain forever grateful when non-blood-relatives leave comments – and beg forgiveness for my crassness when unable to respond in kind.)

This leaves me, for the first time in my ten-year writing career, at the beginning of a project that is all fiction – and all mine.

So, I’m writing what I want – like I've always wanted – but now it’s also time to discover if I can walk the walk.

Honest, I’m *NOT* fishing for compliments, but this is the Insecure Writers Support Group, so I wonder:

Am I a good enough Writer?

Can I create a great story that generates more interest and buzz than the three coffee machines I unsuccessfully tried to sell at our recent garage sale?

My deadline to finish the first draft is Halloween, so I suppose we’ll see how scary the writing is, right. :)

###

Thanks again to El Gran Capitán Cavanaugh and now, off I go walkabout…

(PS: Since Monday, I’ve found myself standing over the small amount of first draft pages, chanting “My Precious! O my Precious!” in a strange, Gollum-esque voice. It's kinda weird, but I’m sure it will pass once I get to chapter two... Right? :)

"You Know You're A Parent When..." & IWSG Wednesday

Aloha,

Before the latest chapter in my real-world WIP (What Improbable Parenting), this Wednesday is Insecure Writers Support Group (known by many as an anagram similar to ISWG :)

Along with the jolly old chap called Cavanaugh, I’ll be co-hosting with Nancy Thompson and Heather Gardner.
Hope to see you there :)


###

(Older chapters in my You Know When You're A Parent... series are here.

And now, ay, caramba!  My poor children…


You know you're a parent when...

 

...you forget to check expiration dates on some of the stuff in the pantry...

 ...which makes you slightly more understanding after the Sons said the chicken "tasted funny."

You're not sure, but it may have been the seven-year-old lemon spices you added as an afterthought...

 

 

...you watch No. 1 Son playing with some sticks and wonder what is he doing?

 

 

"It's a big letter 'I' and a small letter 'I,'" he said.

"That's awesome," you say.

... and then look behind you - it's too quiet...

 

                          ...only to see No. 2 Son absolutely enjoying the fruits of No. 3 Son's labor.

You know you're blessed to be a parent in Hawaii when...

 

No. 1 Son hands you a long piece of blue fabric, about twelve feet long, with tassles on both sides.

"What's this, Papa?"

"It's a scarf."

"What's a scarf?"

"Well, it has many uses. For example, it can keep your neck or head warm in winter."

"Can I use it as a lasso?"

"Sure..."

(Postscript: I've followed the local papers, but to date have read no reports of ex-rustled cattle found suffering from heat exhaustion of the neck or head.) 

 ...you realize your initial retirement plan (that all three Sons make it to the Big Leagues) may need a little work.

...you pat yourself on the back for coming up with a one-bowl solution to the regular Movie Night requests Popcorn and Lucky Charms:

 

                                                       (Ha! Mrs. Koopmans raised no fools!!!)

 



                      ...only to later remember why you *hate* popcorn and messy charms :)

You know you're a parent in a nice restaurant when... you take satisfaction in hearing other children screaming louder than yours. (Much louder, he smirked.)

(This is quickly followed by a silent prayer of forgiveness when that table suddenly leaves (hence the screaming) and you are now that table with the three ravenous and upset kids...

...you need to give the boys a sticker for listening to what the lady had to say - no matter her age :)

...you're a Soccer Papa when, as the new volunteer head coach, you arrange a Parents' Meeting  ahead of the upcoming Under-6 soccer season.

You've thought about this for days.

The handouts are printed.

The practice/drill binders are made - two of them, in case one gets lost!

The game plan is ready.

 

IT'S ON!!!

 

You will stride confidently into the meeting - wearing clean, pressed athletic gear (synonymous with your idea of a Soccer Coach with a plan!)

You will not forget your new stopwatch and whistle (complete with yellow fluorescent cord.)

 

Unfortunately, you're held up for more than an hour at No. 1 Son's new school, filling out triplicate forms in pen (and pencil!)

This unscheduled stop results in you leaving your first impression outfit at home while you lead a short, scatter-brained and emotionally drained meeting (pencils?) in a sweaty green T-shirt and an orange ball cap.

 (The kids had fun though, which of course, is the point :)

And finally..... you know you are one terrified, OUT-OF-YOUR-MIND with worry parent...

...until you realize (thank you, Lord Jesus!) that No. 3 Son is *not* the newest extra on a very popular AMC show.

He just really, really likes chowing down on red markers :)

PS... no children were harmed in the making of this chapter - but no joke, I *nearly* needed an adult diaper when I came around the patio corner and saw the above-mentioned No. 3. Son :)

A Knight of the Cosmic Laire. Ye Gads! What an Honour!

Ye olde aloha,

 (He rides into the town square, the hooves of his huge, white horse click-clacking off the dome-shaped cobblestones. Jumping from the sweating steed, he gathers the waiting townsfolk around him.)

“Greetings to you, my Lords, Ladies, squires, fair maidens, serfs – and Gary.

I stand before you, aye, a little taller today, the recipient of a new honour...”

...He pauses to snap his fingers.

Eight manly men in brown tights and powdered wigs break rank from the crowd and form a 16th century version of ye flashe mob.

Using those long, trumpet things with banner ads hanging down (the only one he can read is for White Castle) the musicians play a wee melody of something triumphant-sounding.

He holds up one bejeweled hand – then lowers it to power off ye new tablet. The empty hand rises again. The trumpeters trumpet no more and slither back into the crowd - as if they were never there!

“Ye friends, I am now a Knight of the Cosmic Table.”

He waves down a smattering round of applause from the open windows of Cavanaugh's Tavern.

“Sir David Powers King himself bestowed this honour upon me during this past week of the Summer Solstice.

Now, I must impeach upon you my desire that ye please visit Sir David's Cosmic Laire to hear tell a mighty interview between his Sir-ness and I upon the ceremonious announcement of my Knighting.”

(Jumps back on weary steed, who looks up as if to say, my gosh, Sir Chunky, I hope we’re going to Subway.)

“Hi-Ho, Zinc Silver! Away!”

###

David Powers King

 

"Sir" David Powers King will release his debut novel, WOVEN, with Michael R. Jensen, Oct. 8, 2013 by Cedar Fort / SweetWater Press.