Red Asphalt: Road Rash

Haven't done this in a blue moon of Sundays. I wrote this here novel about twenty years ago and, blimey, it's still here. While you're waiting to finish another (Don't hold your breath. You'll turn blue) check this sucker out, m'kay?

RED ASPHALT concerns a week in the life of a troubled medical courier whose life takes a nasty sharp turn into the harshest of realities. When his marriage, job and dreams simultaneously implode, this distant runner-up in the human race suddenly feels empowered for the very first time when he becomes a nightmare on four wheels.

So it's put up or shut up time. Aty long last, here's an excerpt from the magnum opus in question, RED ASPHALT, written by moi. This is from the chapter called "Road Rash".
An exclusive excerpt from my novel RED ASPHALT entitled 

ROAD RASH


Due to the intensity of this revenge scenario that had played out on the main stage of the theater of my mind, I had inadvertently driven way off course and ended up on the
northeast side of Stockton. I had locked myself into a trance and, quite honestly, put myself and anyone else on the road in potentially great danger. In my anger, I had blanked out.

My old traffic school lessons popped into my head. I could hear myself lecturing my students on the subject of maintaining one’s cool.

“You must take responsibility when you are behind the wheel of an automobile. You are the captain of the ship. You are in charge. You are in control. Therefore, you must keep yourself in check. Don’t let your emotions get away from you. It can definitely affect your driving. If you lose control of yourself, how can you expect not to lose control of your vehicle?”

Forty pair of attentive eyes would be focused on me as I’d continue my dissertation on road rage.

“You have to understand that you do not have a right to drive. No. In the eyes of the law, it is a privilege and as such, can be taken away from you if you abuse that privilege.”

Oh, my. How sanctimonious can we get?

“But, look, we’re all human beings. We all have bad days. There are times when we are simply P.O.ed. Your boss yelled at you. You and your significant other are not getting along. The IRS is breathing down your neck. There could be a million and one reasons and sometimes, all of them at the same time. BUT you have no right to take it out on the rest of the world with your car...or your truck...or your van...or whatever you drive. That, my friends is assault with a deadly weapon.”

There would actually be a hush in the room after that monologue. Maybe I got through to them. Maybe they were just embarrassed for me.
Obviously, I had never taken one of my own classes so these words fell on my deaf ears. Do as I say not as I do, I’d rationalize. This just made me another hypocrite in the world. With this truth staring me in the face, my short-lived career as a traffic school instructor has just been negated, just another zero to make my life continually add up to nothing.

I needed to get back on track, so I took Highway 99 heading toward Modesto and floored it, still stewing in my own angry juices. Attempting to blow off some steam by driving it off was a total contradiction of what I used to teach, but that was not my concern. I had a raging mad-on and I had to get rid of it somehow.
Unfortunately, the road ahead of me had not been clear. In the fast lane, being the wrong place at the wrong time was an elderly gentleman in a Mercury sedan, traveling way below the speed limit. Semi trucks occupied the other lanes and there was no way around him. Naturally, in the crazed state of mind I found myself in, this brought me back to the boiling point once again. It became necessary for me to encourage him to pick up the pace, right on his rear bumper.

“Excuse me, sir? Sir? You are in the FAST lane. You’re supposed to drive FAST. Why are you driving SLOW? LET’S GO! TOO SLOW! LET’S GO! Would you like a PUSH, HMMMMM????”

I slowly accelerated my vehicle so that it could kiss the rear bumper of Old Man Driver. From fifty to fifty-five to sixty to sixty-five to seventy in mere seconds, I could see him grasp his steering wheel in a death grip. We locked fenders and I pushed the outside of the envelope even further as I took Chuck Yeager here for a blast from the past.

“Mach one!” I cried.

The sound barrier broke as we screamed down Highway 99.

“Mach two!” I bellowed as the glass from the instrument panel exploded into a thousand shards.

Sparks sprayed from all sides of our conjoined cars and I laughed as only demons can. Old Man Driver was frozen in fear. It was all he could do to keep his Mercury in control. The stupid old fart! Didn’t he know that I was in control?\

“Mach three!” I cheered as I slammed on the brakes, separating our vehicles and Old Man River was set free.

As if shot out of a cannon, his car was propelled on its own and at even greater speed, veering off to the right and onto the off ramp of an overpass. Up it flew like a raging comet as Old Man Driver and his Mercury ignited into a giant fireball and launched into space, sailing into the heavens like an authentic Mercury astronaut. Jetting skyward toward the edge of the earth’s atmosphere, Old Man Driver suddenly exploded into a Fourth of July display.

Observing the spectacle from below, I led the crowd in a chorus of “Ooh! Aah!”

Copyright 2004 by Scott Cherney

For more information on RED ASPHALT, visit my website:

WRITTEN BY SCOTT CHERNEY

RED ASPHALT AVAILABLE ON AMAZON

RED ASPHALT ON LULU.COM

Dedications

Writing a book dedication is like a final punctuation, a kiss goodbye to send your tome on its merry way. But more importantly, it's a big piece of your heart that you've given to certain individuals that is forever embedded in your work.

My first book, IN THE DARK, was dedicated to my wife.
To Laurie, my honey
Wanna see a movie?
She was my constant movie companion and one of the few people on this earth I can stand to sit next to in a cinema. Laurie's not gone by any stretch of the imagination. She just stopped going to movies.

The recipients of of book numero dos, RED ASPHALT, were Don Geronimo and Mike O'Meara.
To Don and Mike
Radio Gods
Thanks for the laughs when I needed them the most.
Um, what? Yes, I chose to salute a couple of guys on the radio. RED ASPHALT was a personal book about a guy who flips out while driving for a living, a job near and dear to my butt cheeks. Back in the 90s, my psyche had going through some rough terrain while on the road every stinking day. Fortunately, I had these two jamokes to listen to and laugh my way toward sanity, then writing a book to vent my frustrations at the world.. For that, they got a much deserved thank you.

In the introduction of NOW THAT'S FUNNY, my collection of comedy sketches, I was all over the map.

I hereby dedicate this collection to Rob Petrie, King Kong, Pollardville itself, that motley crew of talented performers and excellent people known as the Palace Showboat Players and to the patron saint of comedy itself, the chicken.

What a load. The chicken didn't even call.

PLEASE HOLD THUMBS, all about my adventures in South Africa, turned out to be a story about family, therefore transforming it into something more than "What I Did on My Summer Vacation".

To my family

Past, present and future

So now we're up to date with my latest, SONG OF THE CANYON KID. I've dedicated this book to my friend, Goldie Pollard.  

I had been a cowboy in the Pollardville Ghost Town as an actor, sorta stuntman and writer and director. During that time, my friend Edward Thorpe and I wrote a melodrama for the Palace Showboat Theater called LARUE'S RETURN. I had yet to appear on that particular stage myself. When I finally did, I had helped Bob Gossett write new material for my first show DOWNFALL OF THE UPRISING. Since I was pretty hungry to add even more material to the show's vaudeville section, Goldie, as one of the producers, helped to champion my cause. The next show she co-directed with Bill Humphreys, GOODBYE TV, HELLO BURLESQUE, the two of them both asked me to write some sketches. I had written the next melodrama solo, LEGEND OF THE ROGUE, and Goldie gave me the highest honor possible. Not only would I have my name on the melodrama, but I would write and direct the olios section as well. Don't think this didn't go to my head. I was Orson fucking Welles, baby!
 
The problem was...I was in so far over my head I didn't realize I was drowning until it was too late. I was too young, too ill-prepared and too arrogant to ask for help. The show was virtually taken away from me and deservedly so.

A couple of years passed and I returned to the Palace Showboat stage, thanks to both D.W. Landingham and Ray Rustigian. I was ready to give it another shot and Goldie gave it to me. I wrote and directed three vaudeville shows in a row, a revival of LA RUE'S RETURN and a brand spanking new melodrama called SONG OF THE LONE PRAIRIE.

If it wasn't for Goldie's initial encouragement and her ability to grant me a second chance, I don't know what direction my life would have taken. I loved this woman. We lost contact after I left the Stockton area in 1999, but I am so grateful that we were able to have one last reunion at the Palace Showboat when that place closed once and for all. At that event, she addressed the crowd to say:

You all came here as actors, dancers, singers, dressers, writers and you ended up as entertainers. And you know what you are today? You are all my stars and I love you all.

No one shone brighter than she did. She was our beacon, our guiding light. For this, I have dedicated SONG OF THE CANYON KID to her.

To Goldie Pollard

For giving me my first chance, then believing in me enough to give me a second

This book is all about second chances and this is my last to say once more to my friend,

I love you, Doris June. And thank you from the bottom of my heart now and forever, 

Bad Timing

Timing is everything, even when it’s bad.                                        


Last week I ran another free promotional giveaway on Amazon for the Kindle version of my novel, RED ASPHALT. This was to be a virtual online onslaught of plugola in order to hopefully kick start some sales and interest into a piece of work that is essentially a piece of me. (If you were to read a few choice comments from a couple of Amazon customer reviews, it is also a piece of shit. I respectfully disagree. Strike that. I disrespectfully disagree.)

As usual, I digress.

All the pieces were put into place with announcements placed on various e-book sites, my blog and website. The first day seemed to go quite well, placing RED ASPHALT into the top 1000 freebies of the day.

Then midnight struck.

The shooting in Aurora, Colorado put the brakes on everything. I’m not about to bemoan the fact that a tragedy of this magnitude ruined my day in the sun. I am totally insignificant in this whole ordeal. There are people who lives were brutally and senselessly altered and dismantled forever by a raging psychopath. I can’t even begin to tell you my feelings or thoughts about this insanity other than my heart goes out to the victims, their families and friends. That this massacre occurred in a movie theater, my favorite place in the entire world and my own personal sanctuary, sickens me to no end. But I can’t realistically comment on the situation with any insight so I refuse to do so. Leave that to the 24 hour news cyclists because they have airtime to fill with enough speculation, disinformation and shit-spewing talking heads that will blather on about this until the cows come home and become tainted hamburger. I also won’t speculate about the effect this will have on THE DARK KNIGHT RISES because in the grand scheme of things it doesn’t matter at all, artistically, financially or philosophically. Others can, I won’t.


What this has to do with me at all concerns my book. I restrained myself from promoting RED ASPHALT any further than what was already out there, which was beyond my control, due to the nature of the book itself.


RED ASPHALT’s main character is an unhinged individual who takes his pathetic frustrations out on the world with the use of a gun and his car, just to add road rage into the mix. It is not a sympathetic portrait in the least. It doesn’t justify his actions though it does try to explain them. Conclusions can be made that Calvin, the main character, is just a whiny little twerp who decides that everyone is out to get him so he’s going to get them first. He’s blaming everyone else for his pathetic life and, oh boy, he’ll show them. Unfortunately, once he acquires a gun, he tries to "solve his problems" by using it on others instead of himself.

I wholeheartedly confess that Calvin is pretty much of a stand-in for me. Much of his back story comes from my own and his voice, for the most part, is mine. How he handles it all is pure fabrication. I wrote this to alleviate my own stress in life, to blow everything completely out of proportion in order to make what I considered to be a compelling story. I poured my heart and soul into it and attempted to exorcise as many demons as I possibly could in the process. That’s the difference. Calvin picked up a gun. I picked up a pen. There are more, but I must point out, that’s key.

But after early Friday morning, I left the promo for RED ASPHALT alone, not out of guilt or respect, just because I didn’t know what else to do. This doesn’t make me a good guy, an upright citizen or a moral midget. It just makes me conflicted and, just as I did in the creation of my novel; I’m trying to work it out by writing about it.


RED ASPHALT stands on it own two feet. Those are my words, good and bad and I’ll stand by them. But for the moment, maybe a little off to the side, at least for a time.

Judge for yourself.

RED ASPHALT on Kindle and paperback on Amazon

Not buying it is also a statement.

Red Asphalt: Under the Influence

Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Plagiarism is a crime. Somewhere in the middle lies influence.

When I began writing, the voices of those artists and authors that passed before me kept whispering into my sub-conscious as I struggled to find my own voice. I didn’t try to ape anyone’s style or appropriate anyone’s prose, at least not intentionally. But the more that we are exposed to the works of others-the great, the good and sometimes even the bad, something is bond to stick. Once it’s all on the page, it’s pretty easy to spot the inspirations, allusions and furry lil’ copycats.

Sometimes it’s just a matter of structure. I basically had all the components for my movie memoir IN THE DARK, but didn’t really know how to tie it all together until I read Anthony Bourdain’s KITCHEN CONFIDENTIAL and I’ve made no bones about it. I’m pleased that I was able to tell him that when I attended his book signing here in Portland back in 2003. (Bourdain also gets a cursory nod in PLEASE HOLD THUMBS)

For RED ASPHALT, since it was a novel, I thought I was starting fresh. Now in retrospect, it’s downright obvious to me who and what stimulated my imagination in one form or another as I scribbled my story. It’s high time I acknowledged them.

First up, CATCHER IN THE RYE by J.D. Salinger: To me, the first person narrative of a smart-ass loner who thinks he’s better than everyone is more than just a Holden Caulfield reference and more of a blatant steal. I unashamedly admit that RYE is my favorite novel of all time and even fantasized adapting it into a screenplay back in my twenties. Of course, I missed the point. I haven’t gotten smarter over time, but at least I finally recognize that this would have been impossible and realize the long lasting impression it has made on me since I first read it as a teenager.


TAXI DRIVER, written by Paul Schrader and directed by Martin Scorsese, obviously shares this theme as well. Travis Bickle is Holden Caulfield inside out and Calvin Wheeler is a degenerated clone. Travis’ wanting to rid society of the scum of the earth isn’t very different from Calvin’s wanting to be the World’s Handyman, fixing all of its problems. Shooting off the middle finger in my book could have come from the multiple digits in TAXI DRIVER.

(Jesus. CATCHER IN THE RYE and TAXI DRIVER. I’m a regular John Hinckley.)

Stephen King: The inclusion of the synopsis for ABRACADABRA, the book my main character is obsessed with writing, ain’t a far cry from what King did with MISERY. The tortured writer going over the brink is a familiar King device. Now it’s one of mine.

Oddly enough, Joel Schumacher’s FALLING DOWN, written by Ebbe Roe Smith is NOT on the list. This vigilante tale actually came out after I came up with the initial story for RED ASPHALT and it is because of this film that I shelved it for a few years until it became (hopefully) a distant memory. When I appeared on the MILES AROUND radio show to promote ASPHALT, one of the hosts mentioned it but since that was a nerve-wracking first media appearance for moi, I shrugged it off. The thing is that as much as I like FALLING DOWN, I had to distance myself from it for a couple of reasons. First of all was the similarity to my story. Second and most important was that ASPHALT is based in part on my job working as a lab courier for Smith-Kline Beecham Clinical Laboratories and my everyday uniform was identical to Michael Douglas’ wardrobe in FALLING DOWN. Too close for comfort. Good thing I wasn’t inspired by that show.

“Look out! Jm J Bullock has a gun!”

Anyway, I backed off of RED ASPHALT until near the end of the decade because of FALLING DOWN. Distancing myself from it for a period actually helped. I don’t recommend that tactic for everything. I have one project I’ve been trying to put together since Betty White was an ingénue for the same reasons as RED ASPHALT. Other works have popped up that are too damn similar. But at this rate, I’ll be dead before I’m anywhere near finished. It all becomes procrastination very quickly and that is a crippler of epic proportions.

I have no delusions of grandeur about my writing. I don’t think RED ASPHALT is fit to be mentioned in the same breath as the works of Salinger, Scorsese, Schrader, King or even Schumacher. But at the end of the day (somewhere around 11:30), whatever stimuli I digest filters through me, sometimes causing me to riff on their ideas, themes and ambiance, sometimes prompting (gasp!) originality.  Whenever inspiration strikes or from whatever source, it has to be welcomed with an open mind or it just ricochets into oblivion.

It's a gift. Treat it as such.

RED ASPHALT is available in paperback or Kindle on Amazon. To read an excerpt, please visit my website: WRITTEN BY SCOTT CHERNEY

Smorgasblog

Another Easter down and The Ten Commandments (AKA Moses! Moses! Moses!) remains the undisputed champion of this particular holiday films. Time to throw some contenders Cecil B.'s way for next year, don't you think? There are other Biblical blockbusters to choose from such as King of Kings or Passion of the Christ. But since the former is stodgy w/o the Hoot factor of Commandments and the latter being, pardon the expression, rough trade, epics of this nature don't really sustain as perennials.

Therefore, we have to go to the original scwewy wabbit himself, The Easter Bunny.      

First off, forget HOP which is forever tainted with whatever diseases Russell Brand left behind in the voice studio after lending his inconsiderable talents to this awful Peep of animation.

Instead, I would suggest the following:

NIGHT OF THE LEPUS...Giant mutant rabbits attack the Southwest. Need I say more?

DONNIE DARKO...the overrated kult klassic (intentional k, like krab)

or perhaps STAR 80.

Casting News: Ashton Kutcher has signed to play Steve Jobs in a new biopic. Jane Fonda has been cast as Nancy Reagan in Lee Daniels' followup to PRECIOUS. Next come the locust.

Attention Comcast, Fios, Dish and Direct TV: I would pay good money for a pop-up blocker for my TV. No more logos, promos, Twitter feeds or anything other than the content for which I am paying. I'd also block Alec Baldwin who pops up just about everywhere.

I've decided to not pay decent money to see Titanic in 3D at my local cineplex. Instead, I'll watch it at home while my wife stands behind the TV and throws ice cubes at me. Then I'll go drop a necklace in the toilet.

RED ASPHALT has finally lifted off the ground. I'm proud to announce that my novel is having its best year ever, climbing ever so high in the Amazon sale ranks for the very first time. However, one has to take the bad with the good, the bitter with the sweet, the fertilizer with the flowers:

Amazon customer Rebecca S. Stahl of Fort Worth, Texas has decided to weigh in . Here's what she thinks of  RED ASPHALT:

I cannot believe that this has received so many good reviews. I am 16% of the way through and I keep hoping that something will happen. The tediousness of the narrative is boring and the constant switch from imaginings to his real life are inane. I will try to keep plodding through this, but so far it is really bad.

I'll bet she's an Ashton Kutcher fan.

Enough of my inane bullshit. Los Angeles theatre critic Jason Rohrer has a brilliant column on the stage of the stage today. His spot-on observations could be applied to any facet of the arts scene today, but in this case, well, the title says it all: WHY THEATRE SUCKS

http://losangeles.bitter-lemons.com/2012/04/08/why-theater-sucks

Red Asphalt: Do You Believe in Magic?

In honor of RED ASPHALT's ascension to a 2011 Top Ten list (seen here at Author Tom Amo's blog), here is an oldie but a goodie about said novel written by yours truly.

RED ASPHALT is about a guy named Calvin Wheeler, a dreamer in denial of his own reality. He feels shackled to his everyday life, a seemingly normal existence that he considers a prison. It's all because he aspires to greater things. He believes that he was put on this earth for a very special reason. Unfortunately, because he has to co-exist with the rest of the world, he thinks that his potential is being squandered and this great gift of his is slipping away from his fingers the longer he has to conform to a society that he wants nothing to do with.
Calvin is under the impression that he could very well be the next George Lucas. He has been working on a novel for almost a decade, one that considers has the potential to explode into a major phenomenon with unlimited franchise potential. He calls his book ABRACADABRA. It’s a massive, colossal fantasy epic that mashes sword and sorcery together with science fiction and world history into one big ass casserole.Calvin is so convinced of its success that he is staking his entire life on it to the exclusion of everything else, including his job, his marriage and his own sanity.
For Calvin, his novel is a do-or-die situation, in more ways than one. The book becomes an all-consuming obsession for him. It's a romantic notion to say that...to quote yet another movie because that's what I do...there's a line in a great film written and directed by John Milius called THE WIND AND THE LION when Sean Connery says "Is there not one thing in your life that is worth losing everything for?" For Calvin, his "one thing" is his book and he has staked everything on it.
So is Calvin a good writer? He could be. He has a lot of good ideas, but he's never completed anything, nor has he shown any of his work to anybody. He tells his wife about the book. He even discusses its progress with her. But he's never shown any of it to anybody including his wife. He wants to wait until it's finished and it may never be done. ABRACADABRA represents a sanctuary for Calvin. He's safe when he's working on it. Since he's been beginning lose a few marbles, it's always been there for him. Once it's done, he'll have nothing else, nowhere else to go. He'll have to deal with the reality of getting the damn thing published and therefore, out of his control. He wants to succeed, but only on his own terms and it don't work like that. Somebody's going to have to read the damn thing eventually. It keeps it to himself, how will he ever succeed? Does it make ABRACADABRA a book at all? It's that hoary old cliche of the tree that falls in the forest making a sound or not. But that's not even Calvin's biggest problem. Time's a wastin' and he damn well knows it. He's been working on ABRACADABRA for so long that it's starting to fade away from him and he knows that. He hasn't even begun to assemble a workable first draft, opting to just work out the story details first. After seven years, it’s has worn out its welcome before he's even begun. Time is constant. It won’t stop anyone or anything, least of all Calvin. Now time is running out.
At one point, Calvin says, "Without magic, there is nothing." When his world crashes in on him, he begins to think that magic is nothing more than tricks we play on ourselves. When he realizes what his delusions have cost him, Calvin loses his way back to reality.
Abracadabra.

RED ASPHALT is available in paperback, download and on Amazon Kindle. For more info, visit http://www.scottcherney.com
Thomas Amo is the author AN APPLE FOR ZOE and LET'S GET LADE both available on Kindle

Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves

In the midst of all the JERSEY SHORE hoopla, I had what I thought might be a million dollar idea.

How about a reality show about gypsies? If the public is so inexplicably enamored with that MTV

mook-fest, wait until they get a load of pillars of society.Someone beat me to the punch yet again. Sunday, May 29, TLC is debuting a special, probably a pilot for a potential series entitled MY BIG FAT GYPSY WEDDING.

First of all, kudos to TLC for originality in naming this potential freak show. Nia Vardalos is probably rolling over in her grave. Second, karma will bite TLC in the ass for ever getting involved with this lot. Don't believe me? Stay tuned. Third, will Kate Gosselin guest-star so that she can burn off her TLC contract?

That all said, I still think this is a marketable, if unremarkable, idea, though mine involved a gypsy-or Romany, if you prefer-family transplanted smack dab in the middle of White Bread Suburbia, USA. The Beverly Hillbillies meets Maria Ouspenskaya.

But...I didn't do it. As the idiom goes, ideas are a dime a dozen. it's what you do with these ideas that counts and, of course, if you do anything at all.

Still, it's not the first time and I'm sure it won't be the last. In my book RED ASPHALT, my main character, Calvin, spends the better part of a decade working on sci-fi/fantasy novel when one night, he sees nearly the same damn thing as a cheaply made for TV movie. This devastates him to no end, causing him to not only abandon said project but to destroy it once for all in a mistrial of fire in his backyard.

Now read this excerpt from RED ASPHALT which occurs moments before Calvin's meltdown.

I had no interest, passing or otherwise, in anything on the small screen as I clicked through each and every channel on my cable system, which, at last count, offered 85 different options. It spanned the whole gamut from local crap to basic crap to premium crap or even pay-per-view crap. I may have been totally lethargic but there really was nothing on my television that night. I don’t care how many TV channels you have, whether it is 10 with an antenna, 100 from the cable or 500 if you have a satellite dish. When there’s nothing on, there’s nothing on. However, given the current state of television as a whole, even something
is nothing anyway.

The one oasis I discovered in this cathode desert had been Droid, the all science fiction network that occasionally broadcast some content worthy of my attention. I used to enjoy their anthology series entitled The Gray Area, kind of a Twilight Zone rip-off that dramatized urban legends, which had just aired not minutes before I switched on the set.

The same night I caught the promo of GYPSY SHORE or whatever that TLC dreck is called, I turned to the SyFy (formerly known as Sci-Fi for those who are not hooked on phonics) Channel and what do I see: URBAN LEGENDS, a new show that features dramatizations of...well, you get the idea.

Holy Mary, Mother of Oh My God.

Granted, this show-or this concept-has been tried before on another channel with little or no success. A dramatization of an urban legend is about as original as a reality show about gypsies. This coincidence is just too cosmically and comically close for comfort.

At least I know I'm on the "right" track, if you want to call it that. I've had concepts and story ideas that ended up as movies, TV shows and even books before I got a chance to write word one. What keeps me going is that at least I feel that I'm still in the game. It's one of the things that keeps me going instead chucking it all in the fireplace because somebody got there first.

Maybe the Universe is trying to tell me something. It's just not my destiny to make any hay over crapage like the gypsy show or even the easy way out with urban legend dramas. Maybe I should just strive to be better. What's wrong with that? No problem there. My level of success may vary but at least I should always remember to set the bar above sea level. Do I have a higher calling? Not sure. If so, I wish they'd speak up because at my age, my hearing isn't what it used to be.
Could be with my Hungarian roots that it could be all just a gypsy curse.
Or is it a blessing?
All I really know for sure is that I don't have the sign of the pentagram.
Yet.

It's All About ME.com

I am the master of my domain..
No, not in a Seinfeld sort of way.
Perhaps I should word this differently.
I am the master of my domain name.
Finally there exists on the Internet (aka Al Gore's greatest invention before The Climate Controlatron), the one and only scottcherney.com Yes, my very own website is up, running and ready for your perusal-or whatever comes to mind as check out this bloody thing that has been too damn long in the making. I know I'm late to the party, but at least I made it before websites go the way of the dodo. And while the creation of a website is a baby step for most folks, for me it's a giant leap for Cherneykind.
The title is simple: Written by Scott Cherney. In its description, it states that it is: "The works, written or otherwise of writer/actor/raconteur Scott Cherney" I know it's self-serving, but isn't that the point? It's all true. This isn't the movie CATFISH. Am I an author? Yes I am. My books back up that dubious claim to fame. Actor? Yep. Just because I haven't trod the boards ot stepped in front of a camera for awhile doesn't mean I still don't have it in me. Raconteur? Okay, maybe this is a wee bit pretentious, but what the frig, I can spin a pretty damn good yarn, so there ya have it. Would you prefer that I call myself Scribbler/Goofball/Blowhard Scott Cherney? I could just simplify it to Bullshit Artist, but sure as shootin', someone will ask "But is it really Art?" I think I showed great restraint. Of course I'm going to put myself in the best possible light. This is all about me, man. I yam what I yam.
It all began with the word and that is why I focused on my books, scripts and anything else I've jotted down in the last little while. They're all here-RED ASPHALT, PLEASE HOLD THUMBS, IN THE DARK, SONG OF THE LONE PRAIRIE, NOW THAT'S FUNNY!-with excerpts and other pertinent information I've decided to include.
Written by Scott Cherney also coincides with the second edition of my first book (yes, you read that right) IN THE DARK: A LIFE AND TIMES IN A MOVIE THEATER. It's chock full o' updated material including something IN THE DARK V.1 didn't have: an introduction. (Yeah, I know. Duh and d'oh) IN THE DARK is also available as an e-book for the very first time with a paperback to follow very soon. For the uninitiated, IN THE DARK is what I call my movie memoir, the misadventures of a film geek who grew up watching movies at the same time the movies were growing up themselves. (Whew! I've got that line to a fine science!)
While I bitch and moan incessantly about Modern Times (not the Chaplin movie but the Here and Now) and all of its ramifications, I really am grateful to be living in this day and age, especially when it affords me the opportunity to fulfill some long-sought dreams. Now I have a showcase for all my works that I can show to the world and that means, well, the world to me. See? Even a computer illiterate, technologically ignorant, mechanically inept nincompoop like me can find his own place in the sun...even if it's in the virtual world.
Go forth to Written by Scott Cherney, please. The URL is as simple as pie: http://www.scottcherney.com/
Remember, this is a work in progress.
Just like me.
Would this face lie?

Ashton the Book Blogger

Ashton the Book Blogger likes me! She really likes me!

(I'm really wearing out this Sally Field reference. It even annoys her now...and she was The Flying Nun)

Anyway, I just gave an interview to the nicest lil' book blogger on the Internet the other day and she posted it this morning, just a couple of days after she reiewed RED ASPHALT.

Please go forth to discover why she so graciouslyawarded me this beautiful cake.

Tell her I sent ya.

Ashton the Book Blogger's address is: http://ashtonthebookblogger.blogspot.com

Mmmmmm.....cakey.......

Red Asphalt Blues

I have good news and bad news.

The good news is RED ASPHALT is going to be a major motion picture.

The bad news is that it will NOT be based on my book of the same name.

Nerts.

Timur Bekmambetov, director of the crazy ass (and highly recommended by me) Russian vampire films NIGHT WATCH and DAY WATCH, as well as the 2008 Angelina Jolie starrer WANTED and the upcoming ABRAHAM LINCOLN: VAMPIRE HUNTER, told Empire magazine that he's turning the old driver's education film documentary RED ASPHALT into a 3D feature film. "I am working on that with Lionsgate," he explained. "It's a movie about drunk driving... in 3D! 3D is the only way to recreate what you feel when you drink and drive. It's my original idea – I wrote the treatment. Everyone drinks and drives once, and I want to make a horror movie about it. It's one big car chase. People will feel what it's like when you're drunk and driving, and it's really scary. The world is not exactly the same."

Wanna bet?

In my world, whatever goes around, comes around...and around...and around...

I took the title of my RED ASPHALT from the same old film as both an homage and an allusion to the former occupation of Calvin Wheeler, my main character, as a traffic school instructor, a not-so-subtle touch of irony since he suffers from road rage.

RED ASPHALT also started out to be a screenplay, albeit an unfinished one. Therefore, the book is technically a novelization.

In RED ASPHALT, Calvin is also writing his sci-fi/fantasy magnum opus called ABRACADABRA, a project he is convinced will deliver him from his hum-drum existence straight into instant George Lucas status. Watching TV one evening, he sees a grade Z cheesefest of a film with the same plot as his book and his dreams came crashing down around him.

Coincidence or precognition?

So what's the thrust of all this, you might ask, if you ever used the word thrust in this context? In udder words, what's it all about, Alfie? Where does this leave my RED ASPHALT? I wouldn't say dead in the water. Oh, the title is perhaps a goner, if the 3D drunk driving extravaganza is ever made at all. Could be ol' Timur won't even get around to making his epic remake. Damn Russkies. Still can't trust 'em.I could always adapt RA into a porno and change the title to say, RED ASS-FAULT. Or maybe change the main character's back story and give him a road raging driver with a severe learning disability, calling it READ ASPHALT. Or I could just change the title altogether and keep true to my vision, which seems a little more likely. (How does HIGHWAY TO HELL IN A HAND BASKET sound? Yes, you're right. Like ass. Well, there's always BLOOD ON THE HIGHWAY. That would make it double jeopardy.) In all sincerity however, I think my version of RED ASPHALT is viable and potentially powerful movie material. And no way, Jose, will it be in 3-D, if I have anything to say about it. Of course, I won't have anything to say about my screenplay at all, no matter what it's called at unless I get off my dead ass and finish it. Aye, there's the rub. Kind of like an Indian burn on the ol' psyche.

Then what's with all this pissing and moaning? Isn't it enough that I already fulfilled one dream by writing and publishing my own novel, one that has not only gotten some decent feedback but also sits on the shelves of more than just one public library? Apparently not. I want more. That's why I keep the dream alive and don't let news like this set me back anymore. Maybe I'm finally learning. More likely, I'm getting older, but not necessarily wiser. The most I can do is therapeutically kvetch about it here and move on. It's how I roll...I guess. I've not tracked the progression of my roll before.

I guess the thrust, the point, the what-the-fuck of the whole thing is this Möbius strip we call LIFE. And once again, here for all the world to see is a clear description of life imitating art. When it concerns my life, it's drawn by M.C. Escher.

At least it's not a black velvet painting...or is it?

Caution: Author Reading

On Saturday, February 27, I am making my first public appearance as a published author when I visit the Hillsboro Public Library in Hillsboro, Oregon. I will be discussing my work including RED ASPHALT, IN THE DARK as well as reading a few passages from PLEASE HOLD THUMBS: A NOT-SO-ROUND TRIP TO SOUTH AFRICA. Along the way, I'll get in a few words about Pollardville, the Palace Showboat and even engage in a little Q&A with whoever happens to show up for said event. If anything else, you can see me drown in flop sweat if it all goes south.

I'll be selling and signing copies of PLEASE HOLD THUMBS and RED ASPHALT too. Buy one. Buy both. Buy all of 'em and sell 'em for a profit. I am.

The big day is Saturday, 2pm on February 27 at the Hillsboro Library's Main Branch, located at 2850 NE Brookwood Road in Hillsboro right across from the Hillsboro Airport. And hey, Costco's right around the corner. Hot dog and a soda for a buck-fitty. Sweet! For more info, call the library at 503-615-5000.

Totally Worthwhile

In the year since RED ASPHALT was published has been filled with both highs and lows, not unlike a makeshift roller coaster in a Kiddeeland amusement park.

I've had a couple of interviews (most recently-BACKSTAGE PASS on Blogtalk Radio). There have been some very decent reviews, including one just last week on The Self Publishing Review, which can be found at:

http://www.selfpublishingreview.com/2009/05/31/red-asphalt-by-scott-cherney/

I've had a lot of excellent feedback on my book, even from a few "celebs". While this hasn't generated a flock of sales or even a a Flock of Seagulls, it has given both my work and me what my friend D.W.Landingham would refer to as "exposure". (Yes, the quotation marks are intentional and appropriate)


Now while I would love nothing better than to have a best-seller and a movie sale (hope reigns eternal in this young man's breast), I can really think of no better reward than the picture I've posted above.

That's my grandson Sebastian holding up a copy of his grandpa's book which he and his dad Matt found on the library shelf in Hillsboro, Oregon. To me, it's the proverbial picture worth a thousand words. My best buddy holding up my book in a library: Priceless.

When you least expect it, life sometimes has ways to remind you of just where stand in the world. When I saw this, I knew immediately where I fit in at this moment in time. It turns out to be a very good place indeed.

RED ASPHALT ON AMAZON

Blogtalk Radio-Live!

You can't keep a good man down...or me either for that matter.

This Saturday-May 9,2009- at 12 noon Pacific Standard Time, I will be the one and only guest on BACKSTAGE PASSwith my friend Tom Amo, airing on Blogtalk Radio. This is indeed an internet radio show, so if y'all just follow this here link:

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/Thomas-Amo

To hear it live, you'll have to register at the site (for free)

The call in number for the show is:

(347) 884-884-8983

While this will air live Saturday, it will be archived on this site and available for podcast.

So what in the name of Conrad Bain am I going to talk about?

Well, for starters, how about RED ASPHALT? I've still got plenty to say on that subject, especially since it involves not only the subject of road rage, but also writing, creativity, love, fantasy, reality and even mortality itself.

I'm also going to plug SONG OF THE LONE PRAIRIE, the best melodrama I ever wrote that I just recently published. This will also give me an excuse to discuss about the late, great Pollardville with Tom, a magical, mystical place where we both met many moons ago. (That sounds a wee bit like BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN, doesn't it? IT'S NOT!)

Then I'll pimp IN THE DARK: A LIFE AND TIMES IN A MOVIE THEATER so that I can talk about movies, TV and everything else I blather on about in this here blog o' mine.

In other words, y'all will get to hear me ramble on like a methhead on Red Bull about this, that and the other thing.

If that's your idea of a good time, listen to Tom and myself Saturday May 9 at High Noon (PST) on Backstage Pass at:

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/Thomas-Amo

You may not be glad you did, but I will. And that's what counts.

2008 is Enough-Part One

Watching the ball drop in Times Square to signal in the New Year has always been a surreal experience for a West Coast kid like myself. If you turn on CNN at 9 pm PST, you can view it in "real time", realizing that you're already behind three hours, still stuck in the old year while the rest of the world has moved ahead. Or you can wait until midnight and watch the same damn thing, deluding yourself that you are living in the now when everyone in New York has already gone home.

Of course what kind of a dork marks the passage of time by watching television? Speaking! At least I recognize the stupidity of it all, even if I've done nothing to cure it. What's next for me? The video Yule Log? Yes, I am a sad sorry individual who is not worthy of your pity.

So 2008's gone and not a moment too soon. The lows outnumbered the highs for the year, but at least the highs were substantial enough to not want us all to drink a gallon of poison Kool-Aid and check out out Jim Jones style. There is something to be said for the glimmer of hope that still exists. Let's hope we don't end up at the absolute bottom before we can climb back up again. We don't all require 12 step programs, though there are those who really need a dozen more just for drill.

My bright spot was RED ASPHALT-plain and simple. My first novel was published, reviewed favorably and even gave me a chance to what I like to refer to as "living the dream", albeit in a minor key. Still in all, I can cross this off the bucket list. I can also cross off using the term 'bucket list". For more info, including a swell story about the worst night I ever spent on the road, check out http://redasphaltbook.blogspot.com/ .

Speaking of the aforementioned bucket, it sure got kicked a lot this year. It sure seemed like we had to say goodbye to far too many people than usual. On the pop culture front, we lost great folks like Paul Newman, George Carlin, Bernie Mac, Eartha Kitt, Sydney Pollack and Issac Hayes, just to name a few.

There were other sad goodbyes as well.

Radio's The Don and Mike Show came to a close when Don Geronimo left the airwaves, leaving a gap that will never be filled again. While Don's partner, Mike O'Meara, has continued with much of the same cast, his show pales in comparison, pretty much the equivalent of AFTERMASH. Don Geronimo was a master broadcaster and his seamless work on air made The Don and Mike Show classic radio day in and day out. He is sorely missed.

THE WIRE, one of the finest TV shows ever, ended its five year run with a damn good wrap-up, maybe not as excellent as seasons past but at least providing closure for watchers of that fine show. (Talk about schooling David Chase) The best moment of the year had to be the opening few minutes of the next to the last episode when Baltimore's mayor is let in on the hoax perpetrated by Detective McNulty. Hilarious and absolutely unforgettable.

MAD MEN continued to dominate the rest of the TV year with another brilliant series of episodes. The question remains: Will it continue? At this writing, creative driving force Matthew Weiner is in the midst of contact negotiations with AMC. to continue without him would be the first bad move of 2009.

As a whole, television in 2008 was pretty much like the year itself-bright spots amid the muck and the mire. Sounds like another sequel to THE FAST AND THE FURIOUS.

The movies were alive and well, even after the writer's strike early on that kicked broadcast TV in the balls and left the film industry dangling on what seemed like the gallows. But, at least the latter rebounded to make it out of 2008 without too much damage.

My favorite pic picks of the last year....

TO BE CONTINUED

My Summer of Semi-Celebrity

Summer of 2008 turned out to be more than half-way decent for a change, probably the best since 2002, the year of South Africa (which you will be hearing about very soon, I assure you). With the passage of time, the seasons tend to run together and it's difficult to take it all in the way you could when we were kids. One of the reasons I enjoyed this year was that I was fortunate enough to catch a few Portland area notables around town. Maybe this won't mean much to the rest of the free world, but here in Portlandia, we have quite a few lovable lugs to call our very own and once in awhile, there are some celeb-spottings, my favorite being a few years back, introducing myself to a REAL celebrity-wrestling legend and star of John Carpenter's THEY LIVE, the Hot Rod himself, Rowdy Roddy Piper.

That was a probably five years ago.But this summer was a virtual Portland celebrity orgy. I was soaking in it!

First of all, I saw the one and only Daria-probably the number one Portland media darling legend of the past decade as a radio host and TV weather girl (usually in animal prints) and now the co-host of The Daria and Mitch Show on 105.1 The Buzz.
I stopped by the Hollywood district Trader Joe's before work one Wednesday and, lo and behold, working her shopping cart through the wine section was Daria herself. I recognized her right off especially since she's so distinct and because she spent sometime as a TV weather babe. She stopped dead her in her tracks when we locked eyes, not because she knew me from Adam Cartwright but probably due to the fact that she wasn't in the mood to be bothered. Her semi-startled expression seemed to say, "Dude, not today. Please just let me shop. I'll say hello, but I'd rather not." It's just the vibe I got in that split second. It wasn't as if she recoiled in horror, but my Spidey-sense was tingling, so I retreated. Too bad. I would have loved to have met her. Another day, perhaps.

While waiting at checkout, I did catch her playing a non-intrusive game of peek-a-boo with a toddler in a stroller, a sweet little moment captured in my mind's eye and a definite clue to the personality of someone I've admired since I moved to Portland.

Check her out at: http://1051thebuzz.com and find The Daria and Mitch Show.

At another grocery store, this time Whole Foods out in Hillsboro, the High Priest of Portland radio news, Tim Riley from The Rick Emerson Show shopped for various items and trying to remain anonymous by adopting a Corey Hart attitude. Yes, he wore his sunglasses at night. Maybe he was watching for aliens ala Roddy Piper. Though I recognized him right off, I kept a safe distance, didn't make eye contact or even speak to him for fear that he might Mace me. Newsmen have been on the defensive since the Dan Rather "What's the frequency, Kenneth?" incident years back and if you've ever heard Tim's broadcasts, he is no exception.

The very next day, who should be sauntering down the street toward his "office" at the Ross Island Grocery but Mr. Clyde Lewis, the original "hairy scary guy" and host of Ground Zero, the destination of all things weird and wild. I gave him a friendly wave from the car which he returned with a gregarious arm straight up in the air and a big jolly smile, almost as if I were an old friend, which is impossible since we've never met. For a guy who is a living embodiment of an X-File, he appeared to be a pretty decent Joe to me. Hope that doesn't damage his street cred. Check the strange world of Clyde at http://www.groundzeromedia.org/

Lastly, once again another store related spotting, this time of a national semi-celebrity(I say semi in this case since she may be on TV, but on a basic cable reality show), I saw Amy Roloff, one of the stars of LITTLE PEOPLE, BIG WORLD on TLC, pushing a very full shopping cart all by her lonesome self in a Safeway parking lot. I always thought I'd run into one of that brood since we live in the same neck of the woods.

But nobody is more semi than myself, though I make no claim to be a celebrity in the least. I'm trying, kids. I did make an appearance on Portland radio back in August plugging RED ASPHALT on AM 970's MILES AROUND show . One person I know was able to hear it while others across the country patiently attempted to listen online. Honest to God, I had people in New York, California and North Carolina trying to catch my big media debut, but with the live stream down that day, all they heard was a re-broadcast of The Emerson Show. But now, through the miracle of podcasting, the truth can at last be known! Now the podcast of that particular MILES AROUND episode is available. Go to: http://twolaneblacktopmedia.com/ and clock on the MILES AROUND PODCAST feature or the MILES AROUND ON BLOGGER (also found at http://mileasaround.blogspot.com/ )
Look for the August 3, 2008 show (which was actually August 2, but hey, what's in a number?) and you'll find me at about the 20 minute mark. If I sound like I was being strangled, it was just nerves, but it sounded not bad to me. Thanks again to Dennis Pittsenbarger and all the guys at MILES AROUND.

AND...on the very last day of summer, my book, RED ASPHALT, has finally been reviewed (and quite favorably, thank ye) by Shannon Yarbrough at The Lulu Book Review. You can read this at: http://lulubookreview.wordpress.com/ or at its posting at the Amazon listing of RED ASPHALT. I wanna tell ya, as Bob Hope used to say, this capped off my summer season like a cherry on top of the RED ASPHALT sundae. I appreciate all the good strokes I've gotten from those that have read my book, but to finally get a review-and a four star review at that-certainly gives this writer a sense of validation in the world that tells me that maybe, just maybe I am on the right track after all and the encouragement to press on.
A public thank you to Shannon Yarbrough on behalf of all the authors published on Lulu for providing this service for us. This gives those of us fighting the uphill battle a chance get a review for our publish on demand books under our belts so that we can get our work out there a little easier. It ain't been easy, but Shannon and the Lulu Book Review offers us a little hope and that one thing we always wanted-a chance.
By the by, I'm not to fill this blog with anymore RED ASPHALT stuff. I have a separate blog for that now: http://redasphaltbook.blogspot.com/ You can find all things related to that book there as well as a full posting coming soon of Shannon Yarbrough's review of this here book in question...which can be purchased where? Amazon.com, natch as well as several others sites on the web including DIRECT from the publisher: http://www.lulu.com/scottcherney

My summer pimping days are now behind me.
Happy Autumn, folks. See ya in the pumpkin patch.

Dog Days (and Nights)

Sliding into home base of Summer 2008. So little to say. So much time to blog it all down.

(Strike that. Reverse it. Thank you.)

First off, a hail and farewell to two more greats that we lost this year, Bernie Mac and Issac Hayes. We're worse off without you, but better off to have known you at all. You made the world a better place.

History has been made with Barack Obama's nomination as the Democratic candidate for President of the United States. If the the Demos fuck this one up, they should be disbanded.

Anything's possible. After all, GW was not only elected (thank you, Mr. Gore) but RE-elected
(thank you, Mr. Kerry). Still, other than his choice for VP (Joe Biden? Really?) We should be getting used to saying President Obama real soon.

At the beginning of the summer, did anyone other than me think that Obama was going to pick John Edwards to fill out the other side of this ticket? The Wacko Conspiracy Theorist in me has a feeling that was the case until the DNC found out about Edwards' little bastard bundle o' joy and they were the ones who tipped off the National Enquirer. Even if it's not true, not a bad little story, huh?

As for John McCain, he picked Sarah Palin as a running mate. (Who?) If she's not related to Michael, then I've never heard of her. Still, you gotta hand it to him for going after the Hillary vote. (By the way, don't the Hillary supporters remind you of the Ellen Jamesians from John Irving's THE WORLD ACCORDING TO GARP?) Another way McCain can pick up support at the Republican convention is to appear onstage with GW, raise the President's arm in the air with his left and then clothesline him across the throat with his right, WWE style. When he tries to get up to his feet, a DDT, slamming his head straight to the stage. I still wouldn't vote for him, but I would shake the man's hand after that.

Next order of business:

RED ASPHALT is now available for download on the one and only Amazon Kindle.

What's a Kindle? I'm glad you asked. The Kindle is the wireless reading device sold exclusively by Amazon. You can download books, newspapers and magazines at a fraction of their newstand or bookstore price. In fact, RED ASPHALT, normally $17.50 in paperback, carries a Kindle price of just FIVE BUCKS. But, if you act now, Amazon will take 20% off which means you can read RED ASPHALT right this minute for just $4.oo. Holy smokes! In the immortal words of Crazy Eddie, "Their prices are...

IIIIIIINNNNNSSSSSAAAANNNNNEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It always warms my heart when another of my Pollardville bretheren surface and make this nimrod proud. I couldn't have been more pleased than see an article about my old friend, Artis "A.J." Joyce in last week's Stockton Record.

There is to your left, the master of the bass guitar and one of the sweetest souls who ever walked the planet, looking a little grayer, a little wiser and a little like he's about to tear it up on that bass he's peeking behind. A.J. taught me the significance of the bassline in music and how to listen for it. He made me appreciate how the pieces are fit together and putting it all in perspective. What A.J. teaches me now is that he, like

so many of my friends, make me proud because there's still out there getting it done, fighting the good fight and making the world a better place. Yep. He's the Man.

Check out this article about A.J. on Recordnet.com

http://www.recordnet.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080821/A_ENTERTAIN/808210318/0/A_ENTERTAIN03

I highly recommend the French thriller TELL NO ONE, written and directed by Guillaume Canet from the Harlan Coben novel. As densely complex as any mystery I've ever seen, TELL NO ONE tells the tale of a doctor who is falsely accused of his wife's murder eight years after the fact when new evidence surfaces. A classic Hitchcock-like scenario, this has something the Master often lacked and that was a deep emotional involvement, thanks mostly to the extraordinary performance of Francois Cluzet as the doctor. While TELL NO ONE has a few too many red herrings, it pays off like no other film so far this year.

One of my favorite moments of this summer was after the screening (which I took in after my MILES AROUND interview-that's me all over). I was walking to my car, following a married couple as the husband tried to explain every little twist and turn of the movie to his wife, a difficult feat indeed since the story requires a lot from its audience. DAMN good film.

And finally, if you've already read RED ASPHALT (which I know is a lie since I've checked the sales figures) and you need something to feast your eyes upon, please check out the website of a better writer than me, Chris Kuhn. Okay, I'm partial because he is my son-in-law, but the fact of the matter is the boy is talented. Do me a favor and visit his site at:

http://www.chriskuhn.net/

He's posted some of his work there, including the sensational stories IMPALA and CROCODILE TEARS. After you read his stuff, I'm sure you'll agree with me. In fact, what would you want to return here to read this drivel?

WHAT AM I SAYING?

ABANDON SHIP!

HAPPY LABOR DAY!

EJECT!

Like a Virgin

So, my debut radio appearance is behind me like a distant image in my rear-view mirror.

On Saturday morning, August the Twoth, I was an in-studio guest on the MILES AROUND automotive radio talk program on Portland, Oregon radio station AM 970 (aka The Talker) in order to discuss RED ASPHALT. That's right. I went on a car show to sell a book.


Well, it's a start.

As anyone who has read the off-and-on misadventures of my attempts to sell my book to the general public, you know that this has been an uphill battle, to say the very least. In trying to get myself and my work noticed, I've tried the conventional media outlets without a nibble. It reminds of when I was a dumb kid, trying to fish at the the local watering hole using a stick and string for a fishing pole, a safety pin for a hook...and my bait? Cheese. (Cheedar, of course.) Hey, it worked on the cartoons! So, I haven't gotten much better, let alone grown up. Anyway, after several goose eggs, I tried to think of another outlet I could tap. How about a car show? Why not? After all, the book has a road rage angle. So, I sent out a press release to one Dennis Pittsenbarger, host of MILES AROUND and who I've listened to over the years on the THE RICK EMERSON SHOW. Dennis had at least the decency to write back and for some damn reason, he decided to give me a shot on his show, Not only that, but I was to be an in-studio guest, something I did not expect.

All week, I ran over a bunch of ideas in my head, practicing my interview responses in the car in an almost dead-on recreation of scenes from the book. I was turning into Calvin, my main character, talking to radio host Don Olsen about the wonderfulness of me. But, I also started to actually feel what I interpreted to be a bit scared. For three nights before the show, I didn't sleep much, tossing and turning as if I had been on a week-long coke-jag. Jesus Horatio Christ, could I actually be nervous? How much was really at stake here? Did I think that if I bungled this golden opportunity that I should just crawl into a hole and pull all the dirt with me as my final grave? Did I expect that this was some sort of audition of some sort that, if I aced , would like to a future broadcast career? When I can't sleep, I get pissed off, causing my adrenaline to pump more wake-up juice into my system and postponing slumber almost indefinitely. Sometime Saturday morning, I managed to get a couple of winks before awakening at 6:45 AM, a full fifteen minutes before my alarm. Oy.


Anticipating heavy traffic from the event du jour in downtown Portland (this week, the Red Bull Flugtag. The what? Look it up yourself! Who am I- Gary Google?) I arrived at the AM 970 studio way too freaking early, even before the host of the show, had even shown. Suddenly, he whipped into the parking lot about ten minutes before airtime in a bad ass black Dodge Challenger along with his co-host, the one and only Big Jim. The boys were certainly friendly enough, something I didn't expect from radio guys since my previous encounters with people in this industry has been disappointing to say the least.

I sat in the Art Alexakis Memorial Green Room and jotted down a few notes as MILES AROUND began, scribbling down a few reminders like the traffic school angle, why the book was dedicated to Don and Mike and even an appropriate quote to accentuate the theme of RED ASPHALT. During that first segment, Dennis did a fine job of building me up for the show, mentioning my name and book title several times in his opening salvo. Then, at the first commercial break, their call screener Adam (from the Pimp Squad) told me my time was at hand and led me down the hall to the studio.

Stepping into the air studio where not only MILES AROUND, but THE RICK EMERSON SHOW originates gave me a bit of a extra boost. After all, I had been listening to Emerson's little gabfest in one incarnation or another since I moved to this area in '99. However, I tried to ignore that and focus on the prize. These MILES AROUND boys were amped up on energy drinks and natural exuberance, not to mention they have a few years on me. While I didn't exactly feel like I was thrust into the Thunderdome, I knew I had to keep up with them and get my old tired ass booted out into the street.

The thing is...it was a blur. It went by so goddamn quickly that I was able to give out the most basic information, while engaging in so fast-paced banter and finally plugging RED ASPHALT as much as I possibly could. I do recall standing at the mike, my arms braced on the console and my fingers digging in as I spoke. I probably sounded like I was being strangled. I didn't refer to any of my notes and I should have (including an amusing racing anecdote that would have been perfect for the show), but I gotta say that I think I held my own for my allotted time. The boys helped me along the entire way, making sure I didn't fall entirely on my face. Maybe I stumbled to my knees once or twice, but I made it back to my feet again and felt, most importantly of all, that I didn't embarrass myself . For that alone, I can claim a minor victory. Oh, screw it. How about one in the win column for the kid? Give it up! I shot-I scored! Okay, it was more like sinking a sloppy pool shot into the side pocket.

Only one person I know listened in, those out of the area weren't able to since the live stream was done. His review was that I did okay. I kept up and didn't babble on like a moron. That's good enough for me.

I didn't realize until the next day that what I wasn't nervous after this appearance. I was excited. It's been awhile since I felt this way...and I want more. As far as I'm concerned, this is only the beginning.

Thanks again to the boys at MILES AROUND and particularly, Mr. Dennis Pittsenbarger for taking a chance on me. You're a class act.

Check them out at AM 970 every Saturday morning between 9 and 11 in the Portland area or the MILES AROUND website at http://www.twolaneblacktopmedia.com/

And RED ASPHALT? Try this on for size: http://www.lulu.com/1885435

As for the amusing anecdote, you'll just have to tune in next time.

That is called a GUARAN-TEASE.

I'm so media savvy, I scare myself.