10 Years On - Running the Gauntlet

You see we've got a problem, you and me. We don't like each other much but we have to take a trip together. Now you can come along peacefully or you can be a pain in the ass. But I'm warning you: You mess around and I'll put the cuffs on you. You talk dirty - I gag you. You run - I'll shoot ya. My name is Shockley and we've got a plane to catch. Let's go.

Outback Steakhouse Embarassed by Australia Day Promotion

Outback Steakhouse embarrasses itself by flying the incorrect national flag of Australia.

After tweeting to +Outback Steakhouse  on Twitter,  it appears that I was blocked, and the flag was changed sometime on January 26. By then,  most Australians in the United States were already outraged.

There has been no response from the company.

Contesting Google's AdSence Fraud Claims

  Google - the company so big, so large, that the left hand doesn't know what the right mouse click is doing.

  In March 2014, the service provider who hosted a body of my written work, closed.  That body of work also included commercial ads using Google's Adsence program. In April 2014, an alternative service provider was located and a new blog was commenced. An application was made to the Google Adsence program for the inclusion of the new blog. Google's policy is that Adsence accounts cannot be added within the first six (6) months of a new blog.

  At the end of the six (6) months, I applied to have the new blog included. The application for the new blog was rejected based on fraudulent activity.

  Fraudulent activity? While the blog didn't exist and a replacement was not yet approved?  This appears to be more of a case similar to the class action suite launched in May 2014 which accuses Google of cancelling Adsence accounts just prior to paying out. I checked the balance of my account, and sure enough it's about ready to pay out my earnings on the previous blog.

  A few more searches located two interesting articles. An unidentified whistleblower reports that Google cancels Adsence accounts just prior to payout, then keeps the money already paid by the advertiser.

  I tracked down a successful civil prosecution of Google for the cancellation of an Adsence account in California from 2009, and discovered that trying to get an answer from Google, is almost next to impossible. While Google has a legal department, trying to locate a telephone number for the Adsence Department is futile. Even with telephone calls to their corporate office, I could not reach anyone who could communicate with me.

  I lodged an on line appeal against my "fraudulent activity" and added the details I considered necessary, with the appropriate legalities if the account was not reinstated.  There was no response to my emails, but this morning, Google Adsence now appears on my blog.

  I surmised that some agent at Google "reviewed" my appeal, went back and saw that their claim of fraudulent activity could not have occurred in the period allowed, as there was no blog or other site upon which any Google ads appeared.

  I wonder how much in "earnings" is left in the hands of Google when they cancel accounts for fraudulent activity, that aren't contested. 

How Fast Can It Go?

  In about 1981, my father purchased a sailing catamaran. My brother and I got together and both of us, instantly, asked the same question. "How fast can it go?" And thus we started racing that catamaran, together.

  That was not successful. My brother and I were two different types of sailors - he was a helmsman, I was the tactician. As teenagers, we argued over everything from set up to pull down. Eventually, I stepped away to another class, and he became an accomplished helmsman.

  In 1986, the Australian Championships were held at Bargara Beach, Queensland. My brother was one of the favorites to win the title.  Ten days before the start of the titles, I secured a boat on loan to go to the titles. It would be the first time that he and I had ever gone "head to head".

  He didn't win the title. In seven heats he couldn't beat me once. The driving moment was when I won a heat and eventually finished fourth outright. My brother, finished ninth. In the following years, I would go on to win a record seven titles. My brother, he never sailed again.

  After leaving Australian and being gone ten years, my father telephoned me last year. "Your brother bought a boat." My brother stripped, repaired and rebuilt that shell, turning it into one of the best presented crafts on the water.

  The Australian National Titles start tomorrow at Spears Point, on Lake Macquarie, New South Wales. Ten races, nine to count.

  I've waited 29 years to see him sail again.

  How fast can it go? Bring it home, Brother.

Merry Christmas from Chesterfield Inlet

Merry Christmas, from Chesterfield Inlet.

As Santa makes his way around the world, I give thanks that I had the opportunity to be a father to my own children.

And as their father, I wish them well, from the sidelines, where I shall always be watching.

I Wonder If This Ever Happens to Stephen King.

  Overnight, I was sleeping and had a vivid dream.  The dream was a story I was writing.

  Nearing the end of the story, and prior to morning light, I woke.  I reached for the notebook and pencil kept on the bedside table to take down notes.

  Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

  Best I can recall,  it was 1944 Germany, there was a submarine, and a typewriter being used with two sheets of carbon.  Beyond that, I've got nothing. 

  I wonder if this ever happens to Stephen King.

I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends

  In the United States, Thanksgiving is complete, and we now move into Christmas mode. Black Friday sales began, decorations went up overnight, seasonal cards are being mailed, and I still have a refrigerator full of left over Thanksgiving food, that will last me almost, until Christmas Eve

  This is not the life I envisaged for myself, however, it is the life that I have embraced. It has come at a cost.

  In 2015, a number of great events will take place.

  In February, I will be have been an American resident for ten years. In October, I will have the honor of watching a daughter marry the man she believes in. And if luck comes my way, the trifecta, of having the book accepted.

  I would not be where I am today, without a little help from my friends.

  Anthony, Deb, CD, Judy, Adam, Donna, Kelly, Jeanette, Joe.

Lessons Learned on a Book Tour

Book tour stop, Manhattan, New York

  In the field of emergency management, at the conclusion of a exercise or disaster, there is a review of policy, procedures and opportunities. It's sometimes called an After Action Event, but in most cases, it's a "lessons learned" review. 

  Book tours are no exception to the after action review process.

  Here are 5  lessons learned from a 4 state, 2 country book tour.

1. Take someone with you and have them manage the travel arrangements. Make it their job to check, and recheck the schedule. Twice on the Christmas in Canada tour I "overlooked" items that were important . That wouldn't have happened if I had shared the plan, You can't do it all and still handle the "business" of promotion.
2. Local currency. Have some cash on hand, man cannot live on a credit card alone. There will be items you need cash for: tipping, postcards, taxis. (Memo: not all taxis in New York city accept Visa.) 
3. It will always be a journey. Some days are better than others, but they all make up the path you will travel.
4. Make time on the journey for the traveling party. Go where they want, see what they see,  eat what they eat, be with them on their journey.
5. Bring home gifts. Not everyone will get to go where you have been. Remember those that helped you get there by bringing back a piece.

  I was fortunate that I got to share this journey with my father, to take him to places he otherwise would never have seen. 

Australia Post Moves Into Oregon

  Cover story at Eugene Daily News.

  Australia Post Moves Into Oregon.

On Tour

On Tour.

Salt Lake City.

Santee.

Toronto.

New York City.

....and I did it, my way.

For The First Fans

Christmas In Canada has been released and the tour is about to start. On this tour I'll be accompanied by my father, visiting from Australia. The irony of an Australian living in Southern California doing a tour about Christmas in Canada has not been lost

  Book tours are made for a variety of reasons, and in this instance, the book tour is not about my name on the cover, it's about the promotion of the title. 34 authors will meet to take part at the book signing in Toronto on November 4th, I will be one of a few traveling internationally. So why go?

  For the first fans.

  There are fans of "my" writing all over the world, those people who know of, or who found my writing and identified with it. There's my friends who are cheering me on. There's my daughters, some who walk around showing off the book, others who may one day get asked "did your Dad write this?" There's the distant contacts, the ones who know me through someone else. But the ones that I am endeared to the most are those who I should have treated better, and who still cheer for me.

  They are the first fans. Thank you, for your belief.

Christmas in Canada Released

  Chicken Soup for the Soul's latest release Christmas in Canada.

  The irony of an Australian living in Southern California writing about Christmas in Canada has not been lost.

  Tour dates as follows:

  Salt Lake City, Utah:  October 25 (to be confirmed)
  Santee, California:  October 27 (to be confirmed)
  Toronto, Canada:  November 2.

I Got a Pay Rise - Item One.

  On November 17, 2013, I wrote a blog entry titled "I Got a Pay Rise Today." *

  It spoke of how for the first time since August 1994,  I was able to keep all my of my wage earnings with the end of Child Support. I however, had paid a heavier price than just cash. I had lost the two children I had brought into the world, to the indoctrination by their mother and grandmother, that I never paid Child Support. The girls had believed their mother and grandmother, (for I was not present to supply a rebuttal), and both daughters having reached adulthood, decided that my blog entry was lie, and now neither talk to me.

  What both my daughters failed to recognize, is that neither the blog entry or Child Support was ever about them. There is a system in place that ensures that Child Support is always paid. Neither of the girls missed out, and neither of the girls went without. And contrary to what they may have been told, the required level of Child Support was always paid, as overseen by the government system that required my payment.

  It is hard to fathom that anyone would believe that I never paid Child Support, in the face of wage garnishments, receipts for payments and annual reviews. If anything, I made the government system honest, by maintaining a constant review, ensuring that documentation was provided in a timely manner, and, most importantly, by pursing those that did wrong, acted unlawfully or outside of legislation. The system that required me to pay child support, was not going to receive anything more than legislative requirements.

  The cost to me, of ensuring accurate compliance, was the loss of access to my children, once they became adults.

  However, the end of Child Support was a catalyst for other events. While paying Child Support, I never bought a new car, never owned a house, and never had a book published. The end of Child Support has allowed me to cross one of those items off my list. On September 29, 2014, I purchased a brand new Volkswagen Beetle.

  The irony is, the car was purchased by me, for someone else. I haven't driven it, I don't need to. That car brings joy to another family member, not just because "it's a new car", but because they understand what I went without, until the day when I Got A Pay Rise.

 * The server which held a body of work, including that blog entry, has since closed. The blog entry now exists in a preserved cache state.

43 Years Waiting to Watch TV With My Father

  In September of 1971, South Sydney won the Sydney Rugby League Grand Final.  I have no recollection of watching the game on television.

  On the first Sunday of October, 1971, Alan Moffatt won the Hardie Ferrode 500, One of my earliest recollections as a child was walking into the living room and seeing my father laying on the floor watching the race. And that's what I did. Armco guard rails, hale bales, spectators on the fence line, and the pits opened directly onto the racing line. And I was hooked on motor racing.

  Over the years, I have been to motor racing events on four continents. I have seen my heroes like Jack Brabham, Nigel Mansell, Juan Pablo Montoya,  and Michael Andrietti race. I have stayed up past midnight to watch live international broadcasts from across the globe, and in those dark hours of my life, it has given me comfort.

 43 years ago was the last time that South Sydney appeared in a Grand Final. With my father in the country, he and I will stay up tonight well past midnight to watch the broadcast from Australia.

  It will be the first time in over 15 years we will have watched a game together. And the winner will be the relationship that a parent has with a child.

Repetitive Irony

I have to think back to when I was a child of age 6 or 7, for the last time I recall my father residing in my house. My mother would tell my brother and I, versions of what happened in their divorce. I had no reason to disbelieve my mother.

  I have to think back to when I was a father of two daughters ages 7 and 2, for the last time I recall residing with my father in his house. As my own marriage was failing, I would learn of what really happened in his divorce. I had no reason to disbelieve my father.

  Friends of my father later confirmed some truths, and my perception of his role as a father was forever altered.

  This week, my father flew from Australia to the United States and will be residing with me for a while. I have one final opportunity to make some memories with him, as I watch the man who was once a giant, struggle.

  His father passed away without him, when his own children were a great distance away.

  History, it appears, is not without repetitive irony. 

Early Training for a Writer

  On a twitter feed this week was a quote from Ernest Hemmningway.

  "What is the best early training for a writer?  An unhappy childhood."

  Based on that prophecy, I should already be a published best seller.  Perhaps my childhood wasn't a bad as I recall it was.

  I wonder what writers rise from failed relationships?

  Happy Australian Father's Day dad.

You Are My Witnesses

  One day,  I will have that assistant, who picks up the phone and organizes tours, hotels, cars and even some sightseeing.
  One day, I'll be on that tour, in that hotel, picking up the car or doing the sightseeing, when I will be recognized by someone.
  One day, they will say to me, "I'm a big fan of your writing, where do your stories come from?"
  One day, I will say to that person, "My stories come from the horrors I had,  before I learned to resolve them by writing."
  They will look at me with confusion until I tell them, "You are my witnesses."

Welcome to the Jimi Johnson Era

Welcome to the "Jimi Johnson Era".

  #48.