Greetings loyal airmen, and here we are, home, safe and sound after a wonderful ten days in Ft.Collins, Colorado.  I certainly hope all of you have had as wonderful a Christmas as we did, with our son, Alan, and his family, and that Santa brought you all tons of new toys.  I've a half dozen terrific new DVD movies that I can't wait to watch.

If you've been watching the weather at all on your TV, you'll all know that Denver got socked by a major snow storm only days prior to Christmas.  Luckily for Valerie and I, that was two days after we arrived.  Denver and parts of eastern Colorado, that sit on this side of the Rocky Mountains, generally do not get lots of snow like this, especially in December.  That stuff is usually reserved for the ski country on the western side of the mountains.  Thus, you can imagine on how unexpected this storm was and the crippling effect it had on the region.  Denver International Airport was shut down for a whole two and a half days!  Over 3,000 travelers were stranded there and many didn't make it home for Christmas.

While in Ft. Collins, where we were, Alan and his snow removal crew were out all night battling the steadily falling snow.  His men worked tirelessly in a valian attempt to keep their residential and commercial customers clear.  Of course they fell behind, as did every other such enterprise.  The day after the snow let up, we went grocery shopping with our daugher-in-law, Nicole, only to find empty shelves in all the local supermarkets.  The bread shelves were empty, as were the milk iceboxes and other stables.  That's just how severe the area was hit.  Major highway arteries were shut down and nothing got through, except emergency services.

I left Denver yesterday morning at 7 AM with rumors of a second snow front on its way.  When I reached Midway Airport in Chicago, I called Valerie, still in Colorado, and she said it had started snowing, but they weren't sure if it was going to be bad or not.  Well by late afternoon, when I touched down in Manchester, NH, my brother-in-law, who picked me up at the airport said, “Man, you got out of there just in the nick of time!”  Sure enough, upon getting home, I turned on the weather channel and learned that Denver and points north were once againg getting dumped…and dumped bad!   Val called last night and said Alan and he crews were at it again.  Amazing.  Meanwhile, southern New Hamphsire, which should have all that stuff this time of year, is still drab and gray with bare ground!  Believe me, things are just plain upside-down.  Ha.

                            
Now the name of Alan's landscaping business is Yard Elves, something I came up with years ago when he first got started.  Once he accepted the name, I recruited my long time artist friend, Gary Kato, to design a logo and then start drawing up several cartoon elves that Alan could use in his marketing and advertising.  Over the years Gary has done a half-dozen of these loveable little guys.  And Alan has used them in many ads and we even produced a coloring book for his customer's childrens a few years back.   In a few short months Alan will be publishing a full color childrens book based on these characters.  

The thing is, ever since he got the business up and running and started plastering these cartoons all over Ft.Collins, I've wanted to do something truly unique for him.  Last summer, I was introduced to an amazing young sculptor named Ver Curtiss.  The guy is a genius.  I showed him the above illustrations from Gary and asked if he could possible turn it into a three dimensional statue.  He took the commission and delivered the amazing piece you see below.   He then wrapped it carefully and shipped it to Colorado, where, on Christmas morning, it was Alan's premier Christmas gift.  He lit up like a little kid when he saw it and it now sits atop his shelf in his main company office.  It was a special moment for all of us and I wanted to share it with all of you.

                         
The craftsmanship in this piece is amazing.  Ver was going to do the wheel barrel that appears in the sketch, but it would have taken more time and Christmas was only weeks away when he started sculpting.  So we lost the wheel barrel. Ha.  Not that it makes any difference in the end result.  Thanks, Ver, I owe you big time.

So there you have it, airmen.  A fantastic holiday, and now we are home and once again getting the Pulp Factory cranked up anew.  I've lots of projects in the wings for 2007 and am very anxious to get to them.  Stick around and I'll keep you posted as always.

HAPPY NEW YEAR TO YOU AIRMEN….Ron, over and out.

Greetings, loyal airmen.  Well in two days Valerie and I are off to Ft.Collins, CO., to spend Christmas with son Alan, his wife Nikki and our two grand kids, Cora and Alex. You'd better believe we've been counting the days. Alex is now nine and the last pictures I saw of him, I almost didn't recognized the little guy. Well, that's because  he just isn't little anymore.  He's starting to shoot up, lose the baby-look and you can almost get a glimpse of the  teenager he's going to be.  Two more days, and I'll be hanging with him and his beautiful, older sister, Cora.  Gonna be so much fun watching them on Christmas morning digging into those brightly wrapped packages to see what special surprises Santa delivered.

Which got me to thinking about Christmas past, and all the wonderful toy memories I have.  And how some of them have colored my life ever since.  Among them, my childest passion of action figures.  Which all began with the King of Cowboys.
             
                                            
When I was ten years, one of the most popular half hour TV shows on the television, was the Roy Rogers show.  Every week, in glorious black and white, we would get to visit the Double R Ranch and join Roy, his lovely wife Dale and their cast of human and animal co-stars on an new action-packed thirty minute adventure that always ended with the two of them riding off into the sunset singing, Happy Trails.  It was a wholesome, wonderful family show that all the Fortiers watched faithfully.

You can imagine my surprise that year, when the Sears Wishbook catalogue (that was the big fat one that came just after Thanksgiving and was overstuffed with toy ads) arrived and there, in the middle of that huge toy section, was a miniature display of the Double R Ranch.  The set included Roy on Trigger, with his loyal German Shephard dog, Bullet,  Dale on Buttermilk and Pat Brady, the ranch foreman, riding his loveable jeep, Nelly-Belle.  And there was the ranch house, a long fence and the barn, with extra horses.   The entire kit and caboodle all spread out in an eye-catching layout.   Upon seeing it, I came to believe there couldn't be a greater Christmas gift in the entire world than that Roy Rogers ranch set.  And oh boy, did I become the biggest kid pest you can imagine.  I surely must have driven Mom and Dad nuts those intervening weeks to Christmas.

But here's the thing I want you to understand.  Back in the mid-50s, we were really a low end middle-class family, with both Mom and Dad working to keep us afloat.   We rented half a duplex from my father's parents and although never thought of ourselves as poor, we didn't have all that much either.  So, even though I don't remember the exact cost of that toy set-up, I do know it was pricey and part of me didn't believe I would actually get it come Christmas.  It was one of those things you sigh and wish for, with no true hope of making it a reality.

When I woke up that particular Christmas morning (my kid brother George and I usually were up before 6 AM on that special.  I mean, come on, it's Christmas, no kid can sleep on Christsman!) and beat George out of our bedroom and down the stairs to the front room where the Christmas tree was stationed.   The night before we'd gone to bed leaving it a solitary sentinel in that back corner, but now, only one short night later, we beheld a floor devouring display of wrapped packages all bearing small little white cards with family names on them.  But what froze me in my slippered feet was what was spread out over the entire quilted floor rug in front of the tree…the entire Roy Rogers Ranch set!!!   I fell to my knees in front of it, my heart beating like a giant trip-hammer, as I picked up that little palomino horse with the gaudily clad cowboy riding him, and held it up for close inspection.
Could a child ever have been happier?  I doubt it seriously. 

So here we are, some fifty years later and I'm writing this in my own private Batcave, surrounded by some of the coolest action figures ever.  There's Samuel L.Jacskon, all six inches of him, as Shaft (with wrap-around shades) beside him is Xena, Warrior Princess, her throwing shakra in-hand, followed closely by the one-eyed Kurt Russell and Snake Plisken from the movie, Escape From New York.  Then there's Johnny Depp as Ichabod Crane from Sleepy Hollow.   Oh, and let's not forget the Mighty King Kong, on his steel pedestal, roaring his challenge to the modern world.

As you can see, the love that started fifty years ago has never left me.  I am a nut for action figure toys.  And by far the best company producing them today, is McFarlane Toys.   Last month, in honor of my 60th birthday, my daughter Heather went and presented me with the latest addition to my toy collection.

Here, in all his engimatic glory, is actor Terry O'Quinn as John Locke from my favorite TV show, LOST!  I had heard McFarlane was doing these, but had never seen them before.  When I unwrapped the box and found him in his plastic wrap, I let out a very 10 yr. old like yell, that Valerie will happily attest to.  Another great action figure to add to the collection.  Does this young lady know her dad, or what?

There is something about toys that carries a unique magic.  They have no other purpose than to make us smile, to make us happy and for a brief moment in our hectic lives, make us forget our troubles.  That's what they have done for me and continue to do.  I wish each and everyone one of you a Santa bag-full of toys this Christmas morn.  A gift of laughter and youth and forever joy.

So I'm out of town and the hangar is closed for the next couple of weeks, airmen.  God bless all of you and your families.  See you at the end of the year,  Ron, over and out.

                                 
Greeting loyal airmen.  I want to start this week's journal entry with a little talk about trains.  Trains have held a very special place in our country's history going back to the early days of the first transcontinental line.  Prior to World War II, America moved most of its economic freight via rails that criss-crossed our vast country.  Train stations were a common sight in most small towns throughout the USA.   Then, after World War II, sadly they fell into disuse as the great American love affair with the automobile began.  Suddenly transportation via the highwarys was supposedly cheaper and industry shifted its gear.  Never mind that the roads would rip up the countryside, that cars would pollute the air and kill thousands of Americans annually.  Apparently the positives of trucking outweighted such insignificant negatives.  What load of BS the public was given, and sadly bought by the shovel full.

Today, that love affair with the open road has begun sour and with it we are seeing a slow renewed interests in railroads.   A few years back, Valerie and I, took a train trip from Boston to Denver.  It was by far one of the most enjoyable traveling experience we have ever had and I would urge all of you airmen who have never ridden on a train to do so.  It is just plain fun.  Let's keep our fingers cross this trend continues. 

Meanwhile I've started to digress and should get back on my own “track”.   You see, during the heyday of the pulps, there were even magazines devoted to trains.  Above is the cover to one such dated 1949.   Recently several of my writers at Wild Cat Books came to me suggesting we produce a pulp anthology with a railroad theme like these classic titles.  Considering that my son, Scott, is a major train enthusiast, I was thrilled by the idea and gave them the green light.  Some time next year, with fingers crossed, Wild Cat Books will publish volume one of TRAIN TALES.   We've already three writers signed on to the book and things are moving at a good clip.  I'll keep you posted.

One of the elements in the picture above is that the train is traveling through snow country.  Well, that's exactly what we in New Hampshire woke up to this morning, for the first time this winter season.  And considering we had the warmest November on record, that's saying something.  Happily it was simply a dusting and I was able to brush off the driveway in less than a half hour, all the while recalling the major snow dumping our friends in the midwest received just last week.  I'm hoping that's still a ways off in our future.  Please.

Finally, last night I had the fun of going to a movie theater to see a very private screening of my pal, Rob Fitz's first feature length movie, GOD OF VAMPIRES.  It's an action packed, gore-filled, thriller about Chinese vampires and wonderfully made.  Rob spent the last five years of his life making this movie and the level of qualtiy in it is as good as anything coming out of Hollywood today.  All of us who were there last night gave him a hearty applause when the film ended and the credits rolled.  He's an amazing young filmmaker and I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it is only a matter of time now before a major studio sees GOD OF VAMPIRES and picks it up for national distribution. 

That's it for another week, airmen.   We've had some big news on our Wild Cat Books in the past few days, but I am still not at liberty to make it public just yet.  Hopefully I can do so next week, when I write my last log entry before leaving for Christmas in Colorado. Till then, don't let the shopping get you down, smile at people, wish them well and say Merry Christmas from your heart.  It truly is a joyous season.
Ron, over and out.

Greetings loyal, airmen.  Well, its been another busy week, as Valerie and I start making arrangements for our trip out to Colorado come the 17th of Dec. to spend Christmas with out son, Alan, and his family.  Meanwhile the whole world seems to have gone topsy turvy weather-wise, as we just finished one of the mildest November's ever here in New England.  Today it's in the mid 50s, and just plain unnaturally warm.  Whereas the rest of the country, especially the mid-west is getting walloped by foul weather.  Mother Nature can be freaky when she wants to be.  Lots of odds and end stuff this time around.  Hope you enjoy.
 
                                      

I just finished reading LUCKY AT CARDS yesterday.  Lawrence Block is one of my favorite writers and you can see my full review of the book by clicking on to my Pulp Fiction Review link in the paragraphs above.  If you haven't visited my review site in a while, please do.  It has more than a half-dozen reviews up now, all of books you might get a kick out of.
  
                                                

Of course, holiday seaon or not, my pulp work continues for Wild Cat Books and one of the anthologies we have in production for next year feature..THE BLACK BAT.   Here is a super pin-up of that classic pulp hero as turned in by artist Jason Baroody and inker Chris Chua.  They will be doing both the cover and the interior spot illustrations.  I'll keep you posted.

Yesterday I sat down with a pot of coffee, three full boxes of Christmas cards and pulled up my address list on my computer.  It was time for the treaded Christmas card chore.  Of course I'm only kidding, as it is one tradition I actually look forward to every year at this time.  Why?  Because in going down the list of names in my files and stopping at those people I consider friends, I was once again reminded of just how many I do have.  And this year in particular, the list seemed to almost double, thanks in large part to lots of you airmen and the new writers and artists who've become part of my pulp-family.  By the end of the afternoon I had used up all the cards in the those three boxes and still have a few more to send out!!!  Boy is the Post Office going to love me this year.  Ha.  Of course one of the realities of life is, no matter how hard you try to not to forget someone, you invariably do…and you don't catch it..until you receive their Christmas card to you.  At which point you slap yourself on the head and go, DUH.   Well, my dear, loyal airmen, I don't want to miss a single one of you, so if you allow me to go digital a wee bit, the Christmas Elf boy is my good wishes to alll of you.

                                       MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY TO NEW YEAR
                                                           From Your Air Commander

Till next week, Ron, over and out.

Greetings loyal airmen and a day belated HAPPY THANKSGIVING to you and yours.  I hope it was a wonderful day filled with family and friends, as our was.  All that good food, fun with our daughter Michelle and her family, rich deserts and lots of football on TV.   I personally began the day in prayer, thanking God for all our brave men and women in uniform defending our freedoms far from home.  It's a daily prayer, that one day the conflict will be won and they will come home permanently.  But until every single human being is free, let us not delude ourselves that there will ever be world peace.  As long as people are oppressed and denied their basic rights, that we so cherish in this land, then there will always be wars.  I pray America will never her lose her will to fight those battles. 

Now let's talk movies.  Specifically Bond, James Bond and his newest incarnation now seen in CASINO ROYALE.   Every time there has been a new actor filling 007's shoes, the publicity blitz has been like a three ring circus and this time was no different.  But to my total surprise, they pulled it off and actually gave us a tough, deadly killer in actor Daniel Craig.  Gone are the annoying pretty-boy looks and those stupid tinker-toy gadgets that made most of the Roger Moore entries nothing but live-action cartoons.   In CASINO ROYALE, based loosely on Ian Fleming's very first Bond book, we are given an imperfect, completely fallible human being who is doing his own on-the-job training as the story moves along.  That he can be beaten and does make mistakes only allows us as viewers to empathize much more with him as a hero.   This movie has quickly jumped the ranks on my own list of favorite Bonds to join the Top Three, coming in a close third after GOLDFINGER.  What's the first?  That's easy, ON HER MAJESTY'S SECRET SERVICE.  It's the one where Bond actually cries at the end.  As you can tell, I like my super-spies a little less super.  Thumbs way up on CASINO ROYALE.  Am keeping my fingers crossed they can maintain this grittiness in subsequent offerings.

Last week another film favorite arrived on DVD and that was Ron Howard's version of Dan Brown's best selling novel, THE DAVINCI CODE.   Valerie had never seen it at the theater and was very anxious to watch it with me on our big-screen TV.  After the viewing, like me, she found herself discussing the points in the plot that mirror a lot of what we, as a Catholic couple, don't like about our church.   It has been a sexist, good-old-boys club far too long and ultimately the Holy Spirit will open the eyes of the higherarchy to their blatant hypocrisy of treating half the human race (women) as inferior beings.  That was not God's plan, nor Jeus's preaching.  One day there will be women priest.   As the father two wonderful daughters, and five absolutely beautiful granddaughters, I say, the sooner, the better.

I'm very thrilled to announce my latest pulp production, THE MOON MAN is now on sale at Lulu.Com.  Five short stories and one novella, guest starring Secret Agent X, all by the talented Lance Curry.  Interior art by Rob Davis, cover by Rob and painted by Rich Woodall.   The Moon Man was by far the most original, unique and bizarre pulp hero of them all.  If you really want to experience the fun of the pulps, pick up a copy of this marvelous book.  Simply go to the top of the column, where you'll find a highlighted link to Wild Cat Books.  Click on it and away you go.   Now the Moon Man becomes the seventh title I have produced  for Wild Cat  Books in the last two years.

BROTHER GRIM – THE HOUNDS OF HELL – CAPTAIN HAZZARD : PYTHON MEN OF THE LOST CITY – LANCE STAR SKY RANGER – CAPTAIN HAZZARD : THE CITADEL OF FEAR – SECRET AGENT X.   All of are available at Lulu.com and, as of this week, five of these six are now on sale at both Amazon.com and Barnes & Noble on-line.   We are extremely proud of these books and want to thank all of you who have purchased any of them.  Your continued support has made this a joy to be a part of.  Thanks.  And trust me, there is lots more pulp goodness on the way!

And there you go, for this, Black Friday of 2006.  We are now officially in the Christmas season.   The stores are going to be mobbed and everyone and his uncle will be out there looking to pick up that perfect gift.  In all your coming weeks of frantic activity, try to remember the greatest gift you can ever give your friends and loves one is your time.   Remember to take time with people you care for, to share a smile, a hug and a kiss.  These things aren't on sale in any department store and they make the best gifts of all.

Have a great week, airmen. Ron, over and out.

                                         
                                            BASIL  POLEDOURIS   (1945-2006)

Greetings loyal airmen.   As most of you know, I am a big fan of movie music and thus was extremely saddened this past week when I learned of the passing of one our most gifted Hollywood composers.  On Nov.8th (just thtree days after I celebrated my own 60th birthday) Basil Poledouris died at the young age of 61 from complications due to cancer.  I was truly stunned upon learning this and now, days later, it still leaves me with a sense of tremendous loss.  Poledouris came on the music scene via his college association with director John Milius.  When Milius filmed his 60s cult favorite, BIG WEDNESDAY, he tapped his friend to write the music and thus was launched a fantastic twenty year career.   Poledouris went on to write the scores for CONAN,
THE BLUE LAGOON, ROBO-COP, STARTSHIP TROOPERS and FOR THE LOVE OF THE GAME, amongst dozens of lesser known works.  He also composed LONESOME DOVE for the Emmy winning TV mini-series and a few years later did the music for Tom Selleck's rollicking Australian cowboy flick, QUIGLEY DOWN UNDER.

Poledouris claimed that his two biggest influences were the genius 30s Hollywood composer, Miklas Rosza and his own upbringing in the Greek Orthodox Church.  His music was filled with a tremendous range and he could provide sci-fi action thrills galore, or sweep you across westeran American plains ala Aaron Copeland.   As I write this, I'm listening to LONESOME DOVE on my stereo and saying a pray, Thanks Basil, for all the wonderful music…and a sweet, Good Night.

Having a little extra spending cash last week from my birthday haul, I picked up a few DVD movies that had long been on my wish-list.  One of the these was what I consider a very prophetic science-fiction melodrama called THE TRUMAN SHOW.  Released way-way back in 1998, it was the story of a fantastic television program that centered around the life of one man who did not know he was being filmed.   Truman Burbank is taken at the moment of this birth and put in gigantic artificial village that is in reality a giant set saturated with hidden cameras for the single purpose of capturing his every waking second of life.   Written by Andrew Niccol and brilliantly directed by Peter Weir, the movie starred Jim Carey in his first dramatic role and co-starred Ed Harris as the god-like director who watches over Truman.

The movie creeped me out when I first saw it theaters as I understood its warning.  Beware the Boob Tube.  If we allow it to, it will invade every single aspect of our lives.  Of course, movie audiences in 1998 couldn't have foreseen just how farseeing THE TRUMAN SHOW really was.   Today, ten years later, all one has to do is turn on TV any night of the week and see peoples lives displayed nakedly for the world to ogle.  They call it “reality TV”.   I call it a legal invasion of privacy and the human soul.   In his sci-fi classic thriller, 1984, writer George Orwell warned us to beware of Big Brother…that intrusive governement eye that would insinuate itself into our daily lives.  Sadly Orwell was off a wee bit, as it wasn't Government that became Big Brother…but us!

Finally, I received a wonderful fan letter yesterday from a gentlemen who had just finished reading my first Captain Hazzard novel, PYTHON MEN OF THE LOST CITY.  Here's part of it.   “…and enjoyed it tremendously.  I was a little reluctant to purchase it when I heard it was a re-doing of another pulp, but after reading the original tale about 2 weeks ago and being a little dissapointed with it, even though it did have some potential to be a really good adventure;  I thought I would check out what you did to the story.  Your contribution fleshed out the story in many ways and made it much more enjoyable.  I'm glad I decided to buy this along with the follow-up novel, and I will be buying your other pulp novels in the days to come.”  Tom Keenan.

Wow, thanks a million, Tom, I really appreciate your taking a chance on my books.   Airmen, both Captain Hazzard pulps…PYTHON MEN OF THE LOST CITY and the new THE CITADEL OF FEAR are still very much available.  Just go to my Air Fare page and check them out.   Like Tom, I think you'll be glad you did.

All done for another week.  Thanksgiving next week!!  Unbelievable how fast the year is flying by.  Have a great week, airmen.  Ron, over and out.  

Greetings loyal airmen.   I've been fighting a bad cold the last couple of days but happy to report am on the mend.When I'm sick, I find it hard to write, so I fall back on my second literary passion, reading and thought you might be interested to learn what's been coming off the Hangar 27 Library shelves.              

Lance Howard is the pseudonym of Howard Hopkins, a good friend from Old Orchard, Me.   Howard has never been west of the Mississippi, has never been on a horse in his life, and writes cowboy novels for a British paperback company!  I kid you not.  One of his latest was THE PHANTOM MARSHAL, which I just finished a few days ago reviewed properly at my PULP FICTION site, click on Banner above to read it.  It's a great, old fashion shoot'em up by a really gifted writer.

Hard Case Crime publisher/editor, Charles Ardai was very kind to put me on their list of reviewers when the company started up over a year ago.  Since that time I've received every one of their terrific, pulp noir thrillers and have been singing their praises loudly.   HCC publishes both reprints of by-gone classics like the above, THE LAST MATCH and then newer works by today's master's of the action and suspense.   I'm half-way through this one and loving it.

Finally what I consider to be the finest magazine published today, National Geographic.   Some twenty-years ago, when the game Trivial Pursuit was the rage in this country, my wife and I would host Trivial Pursuit parties.  One of the things I learned early on was how badly I would do with questions relating to geography.  Then a trip to the dentist office during the period brought me in contact with this magazine.  At this time it could only be purchased by subscription and wasn't available on newstands.  Still, it seemed everybody and his uncle knew what the National Geographic was, its reputation being truly unique in American publishing.   That day I ripped  out the subscription card from that office copy, brought it home and sent away for a subscription.  All because I wanted to bone up on geography.  It ended up being one of the smartest things I have ever done.

For the past twenty years, I have read every single issue cover to cover.  Each month's issue is a wealth of amazing facts and stories about the miraculous world we live, and beyond.  From history, science, medicine, sociology, wildlife, world politics and the state of the environment, there is no subject relating to life on the planet  Earth, NG will not cover…and cover brilliantly.  Has it made me a smarter person, I can't say for sure.  Ha. But it certainly has made me a wiser one.

Whatever it is you like to read, the important thing is to read.  The benefits of an active mind are immeasurable to a long and vibrant life.

Take care, Ron, over and out.

Greetings loyal airmen, as I write this it is a gorgeous Fall day in New Hampshire.  Most of the leaves are off the trees now and cover most of the lawns and roads in our neighborhood.   This past week Halloween came and went and it was a blast.  Several stories I wanted to share with all of you.  One is about our granddaughter, Taryn, who lives in Bethel, Conn.  She asked her mom and dad, Katie & Scott, if she could dress up like a birthday cake.  So Katie began a hunt at local chain stores for such an outfit.  As many of your regular readers will recall, last week in my log entry, I bemoaned that fact that most Halloween costumes these days are store-bought.  Well, Katie soon learned there was no such costume to be purchased and so, being the loving parents they are, she and Scott rolled up their sleeves and set about making Ms.Taryn a birthday cake suit.

Scott has always had an engineering mind and loves to make things.  All you have to do is look at his model railroad layouts to know that.   Whereas Katie is herself very creative and no doubt has baked enough “real” cakes to know what they look like.  Sure enough, in no time flat, they had produced a one of a kind costume.

And voila, Ms.Birthday Cake-girl, Taryn Fortier.  We are told she had so much fun going trick-or-treating in this costume.  Scott even put in a portable battery so the candles lit up!   Later, at her kindergarden Halloween party, Taryn took first place in the Best Costume Contest.   Way to go!  She and her little brother, Logan, are so lucky to have such loving and fun parents.   We're proud of all of them.

And my final Halloween story is also much delightful in its own way.  About a week ago, my artist pal, Craig Shepard, and his wife, Susan, attended a pumpkin festival.  The highlight was viewing hundreds of the orange gourds carved up in every conceivable image you can imagine.  Well, knowing of my love the original KING KONG movie, Craig was stunned when he spotted one particular pumpkin.  Enough so to take out his cell-phone camer and take this shot…

Ladies and gentlemen, I give….PUMPKING KONG!!!!   Sort of gives new meaning to the phrase, “Just when you think you've seen it all.”  Ha.

On other fronts.  In the past year I've been having fun writing my Pulp Fiction review column.  Sadly all the websites the colum appeared have folded in the past couple of months.  Gee, hope I'm not a jinx?  Anyway, this past week I started my own personal site for the reviews and it is now linked to the banner above this log entry. Please, click on it and check out PULP FICTION REVIEWS.  I'm off to a good start with 5 books reviewed.  You have to know, airmen, I do love reading almost as much as writing.

Finally, in two days time I will do something my father didn't, I will become 60 years old.  Amazing!  I still have to pinch myself to believe this.  I don't feel a day over 40, and Valerie tells me I certainly don't act a day over 13!!! Ha. The truth is, my dad passed away at the age of 59 over thirty years ago.   Thus it became a kind of dreaded benchmark for me.  All the while, Valerie, God bless her, kept doing what she does best, loving and nuturing me and convincing me I still have a lot of time left in this world.   Dad, sadly, was never a healthy man, and a bout with malaria in World War II was to have have negative effects on his immune system for years to come and ultimately caused his early demise.   Since then, all of us, as a generation have learned lots more about nutrition, health etc. and our life expectancies have climbed accordingly.  Wonderful news, but the most important is to cherish the wisdom you gain along the way.  I've loved my life, why?  Because of my family, my parents, my three brothers and my sister.  My fantastic children, my awesome grand kids and good friends and my partner in crime, my lover and confidente, Valerie.   Hey, God, thanks and  I'm ready for the next 60!

Ron..over and out.
PS – Maybe Taryn will let me borrow her birthday caske suit?

                                  
HAPPY HALLOWEEN LOYAL AIRMEN!!!  Late last night I was in the process of downloading images to these files and trying to think of what I was going to regale you with today.  I've several interesting pulp projects that need promoting and what not.  Then I realized exactly what weekend this was!  It's Halloween, the best kids holiday of them all.  And the second that thought flashed through my mind, so did tons of absolutely wonderful memories all tied around this spooky time of the year.  And so that's our theme for this week, hope you enjoy this.

When I was a kid growing up in the sleepy town of Somersworth, New Hampshire, late October was very much a haunting time.  Most of the leaves had fallen and the trees were bare, skeletal creatures lining all the streets and surrounding woods with their bony tendrils.  In those days there were no Walmarts or Targets and even had there been, my parents certainly wouldn't have had enough extra money to afford plastic costumes that are so the rage these days.  Nope.  My mother, and all the other mothers, saw this as a special time to get creatively macabre with their little ones and half the fun of the holiday was making your own outfits.  Of course since being a hobo, or vagabond if you will, was still in vogue and very easy to do, I believe half the kid population in Somersworth went out Trick or Treating as hobos.   Of course Beggar's Night, as we called it, took place on All's Hallows Eve…i.e. the night before Halloween.   Imagine being a kid and told that on one special night of the year you were allowed to go to every single house in town, knock on the door, say a few inane words and get FREE CANDY!!!  It was childhood Nirvana.   And, as I recall, no dinky cheap little bags for us, no sir.  Mom was in for the big haul and we were given pillow cases to carry our sweet loot in.  Time will always play tricks on one's memory of how things truly were, but that's okay because a person's memories should be colored with fondness and exaggeration every now and then.  Mine were canvasing seventy-percent of Somersworth in just a few short hours and then coming home with my pillow case half full and weighing a ton.  Spreading out a mountain of treats on the kitchen table to my Mom and Dad's delight and knowing we'd be eating candy for weeks and weeks to come.  God Bless Halloween.

As we grew older, into our teen years, Trick or Treating lost it's appeal.  It was in turn replaced by our obsessed fascination with all things HORROR.    By the late 50s and 60s most of the old Universal monster classic movies had made it to televisions and I can remember countless Sat nights watching a double-feature Chillerarama with my younger brother George and our cousin, David, who lived next door.  It was our cultural education into American gothic mythology.   Of the classic three, Frankenstein, Dracula and the Wolf Man, my personal favorite was Lon Chaney Jr. in his star-making role as the cursed, Larry Talbot.   Chaney was brilliant in evoking pathos and you always felt sorry for him even when he was scaring the living hell out of you. 

My father was a movie-addict himself and by the time I was five years (no lie), he was dragging me to the Saturday afternoon matinees as his sidekick.   Mom wasn't always keen on this, as Dad took me with him to see everything, from westerns, to war movies and yes, horror flicks.  Now granted there were no new Wolf Man movies by the 50s, but there were newer versions, ala The Werewolf, Curse of the Werewolf and a true B-movie gem, Michael Landon in I Was a Teenage Werewolf.   I mention all of these because every single time we were heading off to the theater to see one of these blood-curdling dramas, Mom would chastise Dad with the prediction I'd be having nightmares.   And she was always right.  I would wake up in the middle of the night convinced the Wolf Man was hiding in my bedroom closet just waiting for the perfect time to pounce on me (I must have been ten by then) and tear me limb from limb.  Thus would I bolt out of bed and race out of the room, completely abandoning brother George to his fate, I was a coward, and go charging into my parents room screaming for my life.  Mom would roll over, look at my father and say, “I told you so!”  Ah, the joys of an over active imagination.

It really was a wonderful childhood, despite the monster-movie scarrring. Ha.   Over the years I've continued to thrill to scary movies and books.  Not to be confused with the blood-and-gore junk that passes for horror movies these days.  Sorry, it can't hold a candle to the classics.  They relied on stories and suspense to provide the chills, not tons of body-parts flying every which way.  And I do have modern favorites in both formats. 

The one movie that truly frightened me, and still does to this day, is THE EXORCIST.   The suspense builts from the very first scene to the last in an orchestrated fashion that nearly had me jumping out of my seat every time we were sent back into the possessed girl's bedroom…and she just kept getting uglier and uglier.  It deserves to be a classic.

Book wise, I give Stephen King the nod with his SALEM'S LOT.  Aside from Bram Stoker's titular DRACULA, it is by far the best vampire novel every written.   I go back to it every now and then and marvel at King's genius in bringing that outerworldy menace to a very quaint, recognizable New England town.  It gave me the chills the first time I read it and continues to do so to this day.

Of course there lots more books and movies that I could spend page after page applauding.  But those two are just my personal favorites. I'm sure all you airmen have your own and that you love them dearly.  So here is wishing all of you a particularly gruesome/wonderful Halloween.  Go put on a costume, scare yourself and have a grand old time.  Halloween is a magic time that keeps us all young forever.

Ron, over and out.

Greeting loyal airmen.  For the longest time I denounced modern comics because they lack any real fun.  Most are filled with anguish, suffering and just plain dark, brooding tales.  Whatever happened to the fun of comics?  Well that fun is back, along with one of the grandest comic book heroes of all time, E-Man.  He is the brain child of writer Nick Cuit and my old pal, artist Joe Staton.  They whipped him up many, many years ago for the Charlton Comic company in Derby, Conn.  When Chalton faded away, E-Man began his long bouncing career from one independent company to another.   Now Digital Webbing has brought him back after an absence of nearly ten years and he is very much a breath of fresh air.  This is a terrific book, it is now available at comic shops around the country.  So, if you want to know what a truly GOOD COMIC BOOK is all about, go grab a copy of E-MAN RECHARGED.   And thanks Nick & Joe, it's so great to have you back again.

Of late, if you've been following these log entires from week to week, you airmen know I've been up to my ears in pulp book productions.  And sadly what has suffered is my own reading for pleasure.  Finally, last week I grabbed the latest Hard Case Crime title, THE GUNS OF HEAVEN by Pete Hamill and sat back to enjoy myself.  Like all HCC titles, this one is a gripping, suspenseful real.  Set in the late 60s, it deals with an American reporter, Sam Briscoe, who while writing a feature on the violence in Northern Ireland, gets himself embroiled with some very dangerous, psychotic people.  Soon people, including Sam's uncle, are murdered and Sam's own teenage daughter is kidnapped.  Things start getting bloody very, very fast and the climax is a taut, nail-biting ride. This is a terrific read and I'm hoping we'll see lots more from this talented writer.

Got some good medical news yesterday.  My regular six month CatScan on my lungs once again indicated the two mysterious spots are dormant and have not changed at all.  Apparently the radiologist told my doctor that comparing the two pictures side by side, they are identical in all aspects.  Meaning, whatever those things are, they are not growing or pose any threat to my continued well-being.  Thank you God, and the good doctor and kind hospital staff.  And so before the doc ended our conversation, he said, “See you in a year.”  Ha.  Just wanted to share that with all of you.

Two more days and I'll be at Verillo's Convention Center in Portland, ME.  Hope lots of you loyal airmen can make the show.  Besides yours truly, artist Mike Mitchell will be on hand and we are hoping our fellow Pulp Factory brother, writer Howard Hopkins will stop by.  Howard writes western novels for a British publisher, has never been out West and hates horses.  I kid you not.  But you'd never know it reading his books.  Amazing.

And that wraps up another week in the old Airship 27 Hangar.  Take care, be good and God Bless.  Ron, over and out.