Jackson Coppley's Blog, page 18

Three Boys and the Moving Pictures

“Helen, look what I found.”James and his sister Helen were in their grandparent’s attic in Sacramento. Their grandparents settled there after Granddad retired from the entertainment business in LA. Both died recently and James and Helen helped their parents go through the old folks’ belongings, one of which was the shoebox James now held.“Look at this,” he said as he picked up an old photo lying on top of a notebook in the shoebox.“Casino? Moving Pictures?” she noted. “Where was this?”James turned over the photo to show her what was written on the back, “Rehoboth Beach, 1914.” The family in the photo is unidentified, but it’s not Granddad’s. Must be a publicity photo.”“Rehoboth Beach,” Helen scrunched her face in thought. “Isn’t that in Delaware where Granddad grew up?”“I believe so, but look, there’s a notebook under the photo. It seems to be something that Granddad wrote.”James began to read from the notebook.CLICK HERE TO CONTINUE

Antigua

Three points I’ll make about Antigua:First, you must pronounce it right. It’s as if the ‘u’ was not there: An – tig’ –a. My first education to the correct pronunciation was on the plane. One flight attendant said Antiga. I thought it to be an affectation of his. Then the pilot came on the intercom and pronounced it the same way. OK, I got the idea.Second, the island is British. Sure, the US has British roots too, but Antigua is quite UK. Leaving the airport in a cab with the steering wheel on the right and driving on the left of the road, that’s expected of a former colony, but passing a cricket field or two provided further evidence. At the resort, Brits outnumbered the Yanks. We had to make a connection from DC through Miami, but for our friends across the pond, there’s a direct daily flight from London.Third, Antiqua is in the sweet spot of Caribbean weather, pleasing to Goldilocks: Not too hot, not too cold, with temperatures in the low 70s at night and in the 80’s in the heat of the day. This was February and the Antiguan’s swear this to be the case most of the year. Rain, like most of the Caribbean comes and goes expeditiously not to ruin your day.We stayed at the Verandah resort on the east end of the island and loved the lush plantings surrounding us and the cove beneath our room’s balcony. We had an easy walk to two pools and two beaches, one equipped with water sport equipment such as kayaks and small sailboats. This is an all-inclusive resort so the water paraphernalia was rent-free and the food plentiful. We made friends with couples from the UK and Canada with whom we lubricated our cocktail hours with all-inclusive booze. Yes, I got my money’s worth.

The Bomber Jacket

Rehoboth Beach, Delaware is my second home and inspired me to write the following short story. Enjoy!Brown leather, cracked with age, yet still supple after all these years, first worn by a man of the greatest generation in war, later acquired by a young boy to appease a passing style, and now hanging here in a consignment shop on Second Avenue. The embroidered patches spoke its heritage: 827th Bomber Squad on the back, the Flying A on one shoulder and Old Glory on the other. But setting this one jacket apart from any other, a red Maryland Terrapin pin. The ornament took my breath away. That pin, I put on this jacket many years ago. Holding the jacket to my face I smelled the salt and smoke of that night at Dewey.He was so young, or so it seems now when everything becomes younger as I get older. Dark green eyes, black hair and a swagger that made him seem taller than he was. He wore this bomber jacket over a white tee prideful in the latest fad more than to stay warm in the cool weather of spring break at the beach. His swagger put me off, but his charm won me over that spring. So cool, so confident, he drew me in.Walking with him made the delights of the Boardwalk more delightful. Dolle’s popcorn was heaven’s manna; a burger from Gus and Gus, fine mignon; the odd flavors of The Ice Cream Store became culinary exploration. His irresistible laugh made me love him. It was deep, exposing no care in the world.“What do you want to do in life?” I asked. “Everything,” he answered. I was sure he would. How I remember the unlimited possibilities, the adrenaline rush of what might be possible when the world is still new to you. If I could recapture that gold nugget possessed by youth.We sat by a bonfire on Dewey’s beach in the dark evening as the short break neared its end. The stars over the ocean were magic. Despite the warmth of the fire, I shivered. He took off his prized jacket and placed it over my shoulders. I could not have gotten a more personal token from anyone.We swore we would stay in touch. No texting back in those days. Just a postcard sent and received now and then. Like all spring romances for the young, forever does not live long. He, like me, must have continued with real life. I never knew. I married, raised kids, divorced, on my own. From time to time, I would recall that spring break.What drew me into this shop, I do not know. I never go to consignment shops. Yet here I am, holding this vestige of the past. It was his bomber jacket. There was no doubt about it. It was that night at the bonfire I put the pin on his jacket. Something from my school to remind him of me. He said he would keep it there always. It appears he did just that.I must have held the jacket in my hands for the longest time. A sales girl asked me if she could help me. I asked her why this jacket was here. “Estate sale,” was the simple answer that spoke volumes. Forever does not live long.

Paris

What more can be written about Paris that has not already been written? City of Lights, of Love, of the Lost Generation of Stein, Hemingway, and Fitzgerald. Opera setting for La Boheme.Nevertheless, I’ll try to add a few:Rude Parisians? Perhaps it’s you.I’d been to Paris several times before I was clued in on a simple lesson in manners. When you enter a shop, be sure to say ‘bon jour’ to the people who work there. In a small shop, it is likely to be the owner. Merchants treat their business like you would your home and you wouldn’t want someone to enter your place of residence without acknowledging you. If you want to take a picture in the shop, ask permission. Remember, it’s like your home.Why am I the Only Person in this Restaurant?In the finer restaurants, you may need to book a reservation days in advance, only to find you are the first or second party there. In Paris, as in a few places in the US, the owners space reservations apart by fifteen minutes. This timing allows the full attention of the wait staff and the sommelier on you for an unrushed experience. Before you leave, every table will be full.Those People on Segways Look SillyYes they do, but don’t dismiss joining them. If you have not explored the major sites of Paris before, joining a Segway tour gets you about in an expedited manner through places you would have to walk. Take one, then revisited your favorite sites when you can.There’s much more to say about Paris, but that is for another time.

Driven by Technology

Technology takes unpredicted turns. Ever since the 1939 Worlds Fair, tech pundits imagined flying cars. Never happened, but drones delivering a box of Tide to your backyard, more likely. Not exactly a flying car, but why fly to the store when the store can fly to you? Humm, no one predicted that.Other advances are incremental such that we never knew where the end game would be. When the iPhone was introduced ten years ago, Apple didn’t announce a computer for your pocket. It was little more than a cell phone that incorporated the iPod features for music and a weak camera like other cell phones had at the time. Year by year, it became the device that keeps teen eyes glued to text, but much more. It is a device that made other industries like Uber and Lyft possible and made social media blossom. Who predicted that?So it is with the self-driving car. That’s been thought of ever since that 1939 World Fair, but back then, technologists imagined special roads constructed to make it happen. Now, the car itself, with cameras and radar sensors, promises to do the job on its own. However, something else is happening far more subtle. On the way to the big goal of self driving, consumers who don’t cotton to the idea will find themselves using features of the technology.Case in point is my new Infiniti Q70. It’s equipped with a number of ‘driver assistance’ features. Taken together, it’s close to self-driving, although Infiniti steers clear of that term. On a recent drive on the Capital Beltway during rush hour in stop and go traffic, I put the cruise control on 65 mph and turned on the driver assistance features. Then, I simply steered. The car slowed when the car ahead of me slowed, it came to a complete stop when that car stopped. Should I attempt to cross the lane line without signaling, it pulled me back into the lane. Once, I attempted to change lanes, turn signal on, with a car in my blind spot and the car pulled me back with authority. I averaged far less speed than the 65 mph I set, but the car seemed to drive itself with more gentle acceleration and gentler braking than I would (so reported my wife from the shotgun position).I saw a video of some young men in an Infiniti equipped like mine driving the Autobahn with their hands off the steering wheel and, at one point, climbing out of the driver’s seat as the car continued to speed down the highway. This was, of course, insane. The car is designed to keep you from crossing lane markings, not keep you positioned in the middle. I imagine stunts like this give the Infiniti lawyers pause and are why the term ‘driver assistance’ is used.Yet, all of us will be using self-driving features in the coming years, even if we never think we are letting the car drive itself. It may only be that one time the car took over the braking to keep you from rear-ending the car ahead of you. And in that future moment, as it is now with GPS knowing where you are on the face of the globe, or your phone telling you a friend’s birthday is tomorrow, you’ll think ‘hasn’t it always been this way?’

Unsung Praise for Editing

The movie Genius tells the story of a book editor. You’ve heard of Ernest Hemmingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and Thomas Wolfe. Unlikely you know Maxwell Perkins. He’s the editor for all of these authors and the subject of the movie. Released in 2016 with top-flight stars in each role, it came and went unnoticed in the cinema. Such is the fate of the editor in real life, comes and goes unnoticed, except by the author. For the author, he or she is essential.I have a copy of The Sun Also Rises that includes a few pages of mark-ups by Perkins on Hemingway’s manuscript. They are extensive. F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote The Great Gatsby  in the third person, then Perkins advised him to rewrite it in the first person narrative of a man star-stuck by Gatsby. That person is Nick Carraway who becomes a major character as the narrator. Tom Wolfe spewed words like a machine, thousands of pages of them. Perkins worked closely with Wolfe to whittle those pages into a readable classic.Then, there is me, an independent writer who is brazen enough to mention himself in the same article as those greats. Yet I depend on the Maxwell Perkins of our time. I mentioned his name in the plural since I depended on many editors for my first novel Leaving Lisa. First is my wife Ellen, who served as my reality check on story ideas and provided the keen eye for errors on first drafts. I was lucking in getting into a group of authors who took aim at story, plot, and continuity. In the age of the Internet, I enlisted a cadre of beta readers. All these people are acknowledge in the book.Which comes to explaining the photo accompanying this piece. Although all comments and edits come to me in electronic form, I printed most of it out. What you see are the drafts of chapters and of the whole novel that found its way into the 365-page book I’m holding. Am I a supporter of the editor? You bet. Here’s to you, the Maxwell Perkins of today.

Cruising with the Mouse

It was a special occasion calling for a special family gathering. To celebrate both Christmas and Ellen’s birthday, which occurs only three days apart, the family came together on a cruise, and since the family includes grade-school grandchildren, we chose a Disney cruise. We heard Disney provides kids with plenty to do, but what about the adults? Turns out, they could have a great time too, especially if the kid in them, like me, is still alive. Much of a Disney cruise offers the same experiences as other cruise lines, but then there are notable differences.You’ll get a similar sized cabin with an attentive cabin hand keeping things tidy and clean and providing a couple of chocolates on the bed along with an animal made from towels. The layout of the ship is the same as other cruise lines that only ten years ago were considered large at 2,500 passengers and 1,000 crew. We sailed with Celebrity and Princess on similar ships and had you instantly placed me on any of those ships in the middle of the three-story atrium with glass elevators they all have and let me walk around, I could not tell them apart from the Disney one. (Well, perhaps Mickey and Donald images in the filigree would tip me off.)In San Juan, a ship carrying over 3,500 passengers pulled up beside us at the dock. It seemed that a huge Miami Beach hotel was slipped onto a barge and pushed out to sea. Except for the enormity, I’m guessing it’s much the same too.Now for Disney differences. First, Disney characters abound (duh). In the photo accompanying this article, I’m with Goofy who was jogging around the deck. Tiny girls in princess dress meet Disney adult princesses that have been created over the years. (I thought Cinderella carried off being regal particularly well.) The Disney character menagerie has expanded over recent years and now includes Star Wars, which Disney bought from George Lucas recently, and all the Marvel superhero collection. Although not on this cruise, I understand you are as likely to meet Darth Vader as you are Mickey Mouse.Which leads to another unadvertised advantage: On the cruise, you will view the latest Disney movies, some of which may have premiered the week of the cruise. We saw the newly released Star Wars, Rogue One in 3D, Dr. Strange, and the animated Moana. The movies made at-sea days distinctly different from other cruise lines.The cruise had not one, but two, activity centers for our grandchildren. There is also a nursery for babies, a club for preteens, and one for teens. Not every child adapts easily to leaving their parents for a club. Our granddaughter was cautious; our grandson, fearless. But they both spent a lot of time in the clubs, nonetheless.The ship, recognizing the need for ‘adult time.’ does a fine job of cordoning off space for adults only. Two of the pools on the top deck were water parks for kids, one with a large screen showing Disney classics throughout the day, but a walk behind a wall marked “You must be over 18 to enter,” presented a serene pool environment, quiet except for a man preforming classical guitar. Ah, to grab a drink from the on-deck bar and relax on a chaise.Dining is what you expect from any cruise, with notable exceptions. It is the same experience in that half the passengers are at an early seating and the rest at a later seating. You have the same servers every night. However, there are three dining rooms. You receive your assignments to each spelled out on a ticket in your cabin and your wait staff follows you to each of them. Our head server was very personable, made interesting objects from napkins for the kids, and our grandchildren loved him.One dining room, the Animator’s Palate, was especially entertaining. Screens around the room displayed animated figures taking shape over the course of the meal. On the first night in this dining room, color was gradually added to what started as black-and-white animation. Then, suddenly, everything exploded in color. Even the wait staff clothing changed from black and white to color. The second night there held something else in store that blew me away. We arrived at the table to find a paper place mat that seemed to be for the kids.  However, the wait staff explained that everyone was to draw a person on the mat. Then the mats are collected. I’ll not spoil what eventually happens to the drawings, but it is truly amazing.A few cruise lines in the Caribbean have their own private island for exclusive use of the ship’s guests. Disney has one called Castaway Cay. It has pristine white sandy beaches with plenty of lounge chairs and separate areas for kids and adults. There are water slides and activities. My granddaughter had her hair braided, and I went parasailing. The food was an extension of the boat’s, meaning there was no additional cost, and it was a welcome change from the ship food with ribs, potato salad, and other cook-out food. Castaway Cay was the best day of the cruise.I’ve taken cruises, but don’t consider myself a “cruise person.” I’ve been to Disneyland and Disney World, but don’t consider myself a “Disney person.” Although both denials may be due to a touch of snobbism by a person who likes to rent a place in a foreign country and drive around on my own. Yet, when I put that behind me, I must admit, the Disney cruise was a blast!

The Reward of Writing

I distribute a good portion of my books through Amazon and most of those are the Kindle version. Amazon provides graphs to track sales. So I know when someone buys a copy but not who it might be. One graph gives the number of copies bought each day, but the second graph is more interesting. It depicts the activity through Kindle Unlimited, a service in which a subscriber can download as much as they want of selected titles like mine for a monthly fee. For those downloads, I get royalties on the pages read. So the graph depicts the number of pages read each day.This graph tells a more interesting story, that of reading habits. When I have a busy number of days on the chart, it’s harder to decipher. For example, one day may be 400 pages. Since my book has but 360 pages, more than one person is reading that day. However, over the past few days, it seems a solitary reader is active. There are 25 pages one day, 45 the next, 20 after that. I imagine a commuter with a Kindle reading what he or she can on the way to work, or a busy mother that takes in a few pages each night.None of this speaks of a New York Times best seller. Those numbers are far beyond mine. Yet, it pleases me to understand that every day, someone, somewhere, is reading my writing. To provide a little entertainment each day to someone you don’t know is the reward a writer seeks.

It's Showtime!

I read a report in The Washington Post this morning on the phenomenon of recording children’s antics for public consumption in the era of social media(Their Tube). It may effect their daily life. Example: A kid opens a present and narrates the event. The parent asks whom he’s talking to. “The viewers,” he replies.The article didn't state it, but this phenomenon has its roots in the TV generation populated by baby boomers like me. When alone, as a little kid, I pretended I was on TV doing narrative for a story that existed only in my head. Perhaps it was the genesis of the storytelling I so like to do as an adult. I was aping something I saw, perhaps desired. Everyone wanted to be on TV. In the 1995 movie To Die For, Nicole Kidman played a television newscaster who remarked, “You’re nobody unless you’re on TV.” Now, everyone is on TV. We’re all somebody.Does this change how we act? Are our children posed to pose in their daily lives? It cuts both ways. Any parent with a movie camera will tell you that kids are just as likely to hide from the camera as to ham it up. I’m guessing that the children of the new age are as likely to crave  or reject attention.We are perhaps training our future adults the art of self-promotion and it’s not altogether bad. Take it from a self-published writer. People like me must self-promote if we want anyone to consume our art. We have available to us all the same channels to entertain people we don’t know. Although I trust a novel has more import than a video of a kid doing tricks, the latter will get more eyes on it than the former.Guess I better get out my skateboard.

A Love Story

A friend, Sara Aldrich, plans to publish her memoir soon about her marriage to her husband Pat. They got married the day after the Supreme Court legalized mixed-race marriages. It's going to be a must-read memoir.Click here for a video the News Journal did on their story.