Monday, June 25, 2018


Bob Avey’s 3rd Quarter 2018

Newsletter

 

Once again I want to express my heartfelt thanks to my loyal readers, and to everyone, who has signed up for this crazy newsletter. The growth of the list continues to amaze me. 23 new readers have signed up since my last newsletter. I truly hope that you find enjoyment and entertainment from my books and newsletters. In appreciation, instead of the usual drawing-one-name-from-the-hopper thing for the free autographed copy, I will give the first five respondents an autographed copy of their choice – Chosen from one of my books of course – and all you have to do is answer a question correctly. What’s the question? I’m still thinking.

And now for something completely different:

It’s all about perception, isn’t it? One of the first things we learn – well some of us anyway – is that not everyone – nobody really – processes information the same way that we do. If you doubt that premise, engage someone in a conversation about politics. I can hear the groans already. Fear not, this has nothing to do with politics. Allow me to lead in a different direction. The theme of my first novel, Twisted Perception, is all about perception. Imagine that. The title didn’t just fall out of my head. On second thought, perhaps it did. However, I promised myself I wouldn’t ramble on with this, so let us dive in:

A few days ago, my wife and I pulled into the parking lot of a convenience store – too convenient actually – to do whatever it was, for which we pulled in, and while we were doing this, a pickup truck parked beside us. Stay with me, it’s good. The driver of the pickup was a somewhat normal male. However, the passenger was a deer, an actual deer with antlers and everything. We both laughed about the incident. However, while Kathi maintained that it was nothing more than a victim of taxidermy, and just the head, I saw it quite differently. There was an entire deer in that truck, legs, hooves, antlers, and all. I couldn’t tell if the deer was wearing his seatbelt or not, but he didn’t appear to be conscious, a victim of foul play at any rate.

Perhaps this will serve as a better example. A few nights ago, Kathi and I arrived home from work ready to settle in for an evening of rest and recuperation only to have it eventually disrupted. It shouldn’t surprise me. It seems to be one crises – of some magnitude – after another at our house. After dinner, I attempted to settle into my recliner, only to be reminded by our son David that the lawn needed to be mowed. He was right of course. While pulling from the garage that morning, I’d thought I’d seen someone traversing the front yard with a machete. I relented, but on the way out the front door, I tripped over a small, brown object. Upon further examination, I found the obstruction to be a box of coffee, which I’d ordered just that morning. Worrying about Amazons and drones, and after pushing a lawn mower in the Oklahoma heat for thirty or forty minutes, I crawled into the house to take a shower.

 “I’m out of Doctor Pooper,” David said.

 “Can’t we get it tomorrow?” I asked.

Kathi quickly drew me aside. “It can’t wait,” she said. “If David is left here all day tomorrow with no Doctor Pooper, he will drink all of my Poopsie. And let’s not forget about tonight. Without Doctor Pooper, he’ll demand watching Highway through Purgatory as retribution.”

“I see your point,” I said. Not being able to bear the thought of having to watch back-to-back episodes of Canadians, dragging busted trucks through the snow, I drove my sweaty self to the Dollar Shack to get the needed supplies. I love Canada, and the people there are beautiful, but a person can only take so much of that, eh?

Having successfully maneuvered the exhausting trip, I walked into the house and plopped my prize down upon the kitchen island, only to be greeted by Kathi frowning and shaking her head. I whipped my attention around and observed the packaged soft drinks: sitting on the counter was the familiar reddish-brown carton with the same stylish lettering written across it. There was only one glaring problem. Instead of Doctor Pooper, it read, Doctor Popper. In my haste to finish the chore and return home, I’d mistakenly purchased a cheap knockoff. Fearing the wrath of Dave, and being quick on her feet, Kathi quickly stated, “I’ve heard about this. It’s brand new on the market. Everyone at work is talking about it.” 

David eagerly guzzled down a can of the Popper. “Hey, this is pretty good,” He said.

That weekend, during our weekly Mega Mart shopping spree, David, looking rather haggard and frazzled, met us at the checkout. “I can’t find the Doctor Popper,” he said.

“That’s okay,” I said. “We’ll swing by the Dollar Shack on our way home and stock up.”

As it turned out, my daughter, Karen, had ordered the coffee for me as a Father’s Day gift, so I guess we’re safe from immediate drone-danger.

And by the way, if you’re out and about and run across any Doctor Popper, please send it to us. It seems the Dollar Shack is the only store that stocks it. I’m just kidding. Not about the stuff being rare and hard to find, but about sending it to us.

Oh yes, the question is: At the beginning of chapter two of Twisted Perception, what does Detective Elliot perceive to be the problem?

Just email your answer to bob@bobavey.com

Thanks and good luck.

Please check out my writing at the link below:


Twisted Perception is now out in audiobook. Please click the link below:


I want to thank everyone who signed up for my Reader List. I hope you enjoy the newsletters and special mailings. If you know of anyone who might be interested, please forward this newsletter to them. We give away prizes on occasion, so stay tuned. Signing up is easy – just email your request to:


Or click here: http://www.bobavey.com/

On the right side of any webpage, or the bottom if on a smart phone, you will find a notation that reads: Sign Up For Bob’s Newsletter. Put your email address in the box and hit subscribe. Not only will you be directed to a link for a free e-book, but will also be entered into a contest to win a free paperback copy.

The winner of the free autographed book has not responded to my email. I’ll put the names back in the hat and draw for another one.

I also give programs for writing clubs, reading groups, or any group that’s interested. If you belong to a club that needs a program speaker, keep me in mind.

You have permission to reprint, forward, or use the contents of this newsletter in your newsletter, blog, or e-zine. The only requirement is the inclusion of the following footer:

This article was written by Bob Avey, author of Twisted Perception, Beneath a Buried House, and Footprints of a Dancer. http://www.bobavey.com

 

 

Friday, April 13, 2018

Things Aren't What They Used to Be


Bob Avey’s 2nd Quarter 2018
Newsletter

It all started when a driverless car ran a traffic light and turned in front of me.

Okay, there was actually a person behind the wheel, but since he didn’t have a driver license and he lacked insurance, for all practical purposes the vehicle might as well have been unattended. And I’m either very good at picking these people, or there’s a lot of them out there. I lean toward the latter.

Those of you who’ve had the unfortunate experience of having a deer run in front of your car at night will understand what it was like. The rest of you will just have to use your imagination. Sure, you ultimately see the deer, but by that time it’s too late and… Well you get the picture.
Kathi and I sat there in the middle of the intersection, dazed into the Twilight Zone, until I came to my senses and figured we’d better try to get the car started and move to a safer location before we got struck by another vehicle. Luckily, the car started. Maybe it’s not too bad, I thought, when the car fired up, but the loud, scraping sound that ensued upon driving the busted Nissan put a damper on that idea.

When I coaxed the car into a nearby parking lot and got out to survey the damage, a man walked over and joined me. He didn’t identify himself and I was too dazed to ask. Together we frowned and shook our heads, not only in response to the sight of the car, but to the act of two police cars, speeding by with sirens on and lights flashing. “I don’t think the other car made it very far,” the guy said. “His car was smoking like crazy.”

At that point, I gathered that the other vehicle had left the scene of the accident, which, indeed, he had. I sure know how to pick them. Before I could ask any more questions, the unidentified good-Samaritan walked away then got back into his car and drove off. It Turned out, he’d witnessed the whole incident and called the police and informed them that it wasn’t my fault.

Kathi was still in the Nissan. The passenger door wouldn’t open. I climbed back in and called our insurance company while Kathi dialed 911. She was informed by them that at least four other people had called the local police about the accident. A few hours later, the police, who were professional and courteous, finally arrived. After asking a few questions, one of the officers handed us a couple of clipboards with paperwork attached and asked us to fill out the accident reports. He only gave us one pen, so I asked Kathi if she had another one so we could fill out the reports at the same time. She dug around in her purse and when she finally produced the needed writing instrument we commenced putting to paper what we thought had happened.

Upon finishing the reports, Kathi tossed her pen back into her purse and we handed back the clipboards and the other pen.

“That was us driving by earlier,” the officer said. “If it’s any consolation, we caught and arrested the suspect, the other driver. Excuse me,” the officer continued, “but I’ll need my pen back.”
“I gave it to you,” I said.

He shook his head. “This isn’t the correct pen. They are officially issued and I must have the correct one back.”

Officially issued by whom, I thought, Bic? “You threw the wrong pen in your purse,” I said, “Try to find it.”

A mini nightmare unfolded as Kathi dug around in her purse. I can’t decide if Kathi’s purse is more like a blackhole, or a magician’s hat, but what goes in doesn’t always necessarily come back out. I began to panic. I thought we were going to be arrested for stealing the official equipment. Finally, Kathi pulled out a handful of pens and handed them to the officer. He rummaged through them and found one he liked.

A few hours later, the wrecker showed up. “Where do you want to take the car?” He asked.
I’d talked with the insurance company earlier and they’d given me a name and address of a body shop, so I relayed the info to the driver.

“That’s quite a distance from here,” he said. “And anyway, they’d probably be closed by now. Do you really want to leave your car somewhere without first talking to them?’
“I guess not,” I said. “What should we do?”

“I can take the car to your house then in the morning you can call and have it towed to the shop.”
“That sounds good,” I said. “Do we ride in the wrecker with you?”

He took off his hat and scratched his head. “We don’t usually do that.”

Oh really? How was he going to get the car to my house? Was I to walk along the road in front and show him the way? “Can you make an exception this time?”

“Yeah, I guess I could do that. Nobody’s going to know anyway.”

They would have if you’d have said, no, I thought.

We were quite the spectacle of the night as the hissing brakes and flashing lights of the wrecker roused half the neighborhood out into the streets to watch the smashed Nissan dumped onto my driveway.

The next morning, I got the bright idea of calling the Nissan dealership. I’d had some time to think and it seemed the dealership would be the proper place to get the car done right. That is, if they’d had a body shop, which they did not. So I asked for a recommendation. They told me to take it to Blank’s Paint and Body. It turned out to be a small, hard to find place, which should have clued me, but, hey, it was recommended.

About a month later, after numerous phone calls and having to take the rental car back because my insurance had reached the limit, I made a final call.

“Well, Mr. Avey, while fixing the car, we found this and that and the check we got from your insurance company wasn’t enough to cover because the additional cost wasn’t included in the estimate. You can pick up your car, but you will have to pay us the difference.”

I came unglued. It wouldn’t be proper to repeat what I said. But less than a minute after I disconnected, I got a call from the owner of the shop. “This is Bleep,” he said. “I own Blank’s Paint and Body.”

“Why’s the shop called Blank, if your name’s Bleep?” I asked.

He tried to explain. “Forget what my shop foreman told you. You can pick up your car and you don’t have to pay anything.”

 Thinking the whole seedy incident was behind us, Kathi and I tried to carry on. Then we got a subpoena to appear in court, for a hearing related to the accident, at so-and-so date at so-and-so time. We arranged for time off at our jobs and left early to make sure we got there on time. After finding the courthouse, parking, and going through guards and metal detectors, we rushed up the stairs where we found all of the offices locked and the hallways empty. In a state of panic and frustration – the letter that had come with the subpoena had made it clear to be on time – we sat on a bench in the hallway and searched for a phone number to the court clerk so we could explain that we were there but they were not.

 As Kathi was calling, the elevator hummed and the doors opened and a very casually dressed lady, accompanied by two boys around the age of nine, got out and walked our way.

The lady gave us a cursory glance and asked, “Do you have a subpoena?”

“Why yes,” we answered, “Do you know…?”

“Follow me,” she said, and commenced walking down the hallway with children and us in tow.
The lady unlocked an office door and led us and the children into an office beside the courtroom. The doorway to the dark and empty courtroom gaped open like the entrance to an abandoned mine shaft.
“Have a seat,” she said. Then she left us alone with the children, who slipped off their shoes before plopping down into the chairs opposite ours and switching on a television that displayed a rather loud cartoon program.

Finally, another casually dressed lady came in and said, “Are you here with a subpoena?”
I glanced at the clock on the wall, which indicated we were one hour late, except we weren’t because we were there, right? “That’s right,” I said, quickly handing her the subpoena.
“Okay. I’ll let them know you are here.”

About an hour and a half later, the lady came back into the room and said, “Okay, you’re free to go. There will be no need for the hearing.”

Kathi and I glanced at each other then got up and left. A cold draft of air belched out of the open courtroom as we passed by, and when I glanced into the dark chasm, I thought I saw a man sitting inside. I wondered if it was Rod Serling.

Please check out my writing at the link below:
Twisted Perception is now out in audiobook. Please click the link below:
I want to thank everyone who signed up for my Reader List. I hope you enjoy the newsletters and special mailings. If you know of anyone who might be interested, please forward this newsletter to them. We give away prizes on occasion, so stay tuned. Signing up is easy – just email your request to:
Or click here: http://www.bobavey.com/
On the right side of any webpage, or the bottom if on a smart phone, you will find a notation that reads: Sign Up For Bob’s Newsletter. Put your email address in the box and hit subscribe. Not only will you be directed to a link for a free e-book, but will also be entered into a contest to win a free paperback copy.
The winner of the free autographed book has not responded to my email. I’ll put the names back in the hat and draw for another one.
I also give programs for writing clubs, reading groups, or any group that’s interested. If you belong to a club that needs a program speaker, keep me in mind.
You have permission to reprint, forward, or use the contents of this newsletter in your newsletter, blog, or e-zine. The only requirement is the inclusion of the following footer:
This article was written by Bob Avey, author of Twisted Perception, Beneath a Buried House, and Footprints of a Dancer. http://www.bobavey.com



Tuesday, January 09, 2018

Christmas with the Avey Family


The first day of the year holds mixed emotions for me. It’s the beginning of a new year, but it’s also the day that my family and I traditionally take down the Christmas decorations. That always makes me a little sad.

Doesn’t it seem that all the buildup and hype for Christmas sometimes leaves the actual event a little flat? You work hard to get everyone the right gift and then the presents are ripped open and it’s over.

Well actually it isn’t. And if you celebrate the true meaning, it won’t be flat at all. During the New Year’s Eve service at church -- Asbury United Methodist Church https://asburytulsa.org Pastor Jay Henderson reminded us that December 25th isn’t the end of the Christmas celebration, but the beginning. The Twelve Days of Christmas, also known as Christmastide and Twelvetide, begins on December 25 and ends January 5. This is followed by the festival of Epiphany – also Theophany, or Three Kings’ Day, which celebrates the manifestation of God incarnate as Jesus Christ to the Gentiles as represented by the Magi. The four Sundays before Christmas, the buildup, is called Advent, a season of prayer and fasting to thank God for Christ’s first coming, His presence among us today through the Holy Spirit, and to prepare for His second coming at the end of time.

On the other end of the spectrum, while driving to the bowling alley one night during the buildup, my son, David and I drove past a house that had a reindeer in the front yard. Not an actual reindeer, but one of those wire/plastic, kind that are popular during Christmas. And that was it. No other animals graced the artificial herd, no lights clung to the house, no decorations laced the trees or shrubs, no inflatable Santa climbing into a hot tub with Rudolf or waving to the crowd while piloting a tractor; just a lonely reindeer, its tiny, white lights casting a soft glow across the lawn.

In keeping with the spirit, my sweet wife, Kathi, schemed up an idea to liven up the season by making our own Christmas cards.

“I’m going to buy Christmas shirts,” she explained, “and we’ll stand in front of the tree and take selfies with my I-phone.” 

With good reason, I expressed skepticism for the outcome of such a plan, but finally relented and agreed to go along with it. It won’t be so bad, I thought, imagining Kathi would procure sweaters created in somewhat tacky but tolerable Christmas motifs. However, upon completion of her limited-use clothing expedition, she further dampened my already unenthusiastic expectations by proudly presenting David and me with green, elf t-shirts. All was not lost. The menagerie of photographic selfies that ensued confirmed a suspicion I had been harboring: I-phones, and probably other smart phones as well, collect images and later use them against you. In trying to impose a timer upon the phone, we angered it into producing unimaginable shots in rapid bursts of ten, depicting us in awkward poses that could not have been of our own doing. In one, my head appeared to be spinning like Linda Blair’s exorcism, in another I was hunched over with arms dangling like Cornelius in Planet of the Apes. It was all good. I hadn’t laughed that hard in years.


Please check out my writing at the link below:


Twisted Perception is now out in audiobook. Please click the link below:


I want to thank everyone who signed up for my Reader List. I hope you enjoy the newsletters and special mailings. If you know of anyone who might be interested, please forward this newsletter to them. We give away prizes on occasion, so stay tuned. Signing up is easy – just email your request to:


Or click here: http://www.bobavey.com/

On the right side of any webpage, you will find a notation that reads: Sign Up For Bob’s Newsletter. Put your email address in the box and hit subscribe. Not only will you be directed to a link for a free e-book, but will also be entered into a contest to win a free paperback copy.

The winner of the free autographed book has not responded to my email. I’ll put the names back in the hat and draw for another one.

I also give programs for writing clubs, reading groups, or any group that’s interested. If you belong to a club that needs a program speaker, keep me in mind.

You have permission to reprint, forward, or use the contents of this newsletter in your newsletter, blog, or e-zine. The only requirement is the inclusion of the following footer:

This article was written by Bob Avey, author of Twisted Perception, Beneath a Buried House, and Footprints of a Dancer. http://www.bobavey.com

 

 

Wednesday, November 29, 2017

Special Christmas Deals
Make a Note of these Dates:

December 15, and 16, e-book versions of Beneath a Buried House will be absolutely free.
December 9 through December 16, e-book copies of Twisted Perception are only 99 cents.
December 15 through December 22, e-book copies of Footprints of a Dancer will also be on sale for 99 cents.

I will be running some great Christmas deals this year, but first a word from our sponsor.

Drinks Anyone?

A few days ago, my wife, Kathi, and I decided to dine at a local barbeque restaurant. Upon being seated, we were asked for our drink order. We ordered colas.
“Would you like a short one or a tall one,” the waitress asked.
Being a bit intrigued by the question, I asked for the difference.
The waitress measured a distance from the table with her hand and said, “About that much.”

 Later that night at a different restaurant, a waitress took our drink order and brought the colas.
Seconds later, another waitress appeared with two more colas. “Oh, did someone bring your drinks?”
She then placed the drinks on the table. “Well,” she said, “I’m your server, so just in case.”
I didn’t ask in what case that might be.

And now for something completely different:

Books make wonderful, thoughtful, educational Christmas gifts. Did you know that you can gift e-books? Amazon has made it easy with instructions on each author’s book page. Anyone with a computer, smart phone, or tablet can download a free Kindle App, and begin reading. Of course paperback copies are still available as well.
And now for the Christmas deals:

On December 15, and 16, e-book versions of Beneath a Buried House will be absolutely free. Here’s the link:


December 9 through December 16, e-book copies of Twisted Perception are only 99 cents. Where else can you get a thoughtful, educational gift for less than a dollar? The link:


December 15 through December 22, e-book copies of Footprints of a Dancer will also be on sale for 99 cents. The link:


If you would like to read a free sample before buying, excerpts are available on my website:


I’d also like to recommend a great book, Crushing the Collective, from my good friend Charles W. Sasser:

I truly pray that everyone has a blessed and merry Christmas.

  

Wednesday, October 25, 2017

A Walk in the Park

Bob Avey’s 4th Quarter 2017
Newsletter

Search for the positive.

It seems a lot of bad things are happening in the world. However, your outlook can easily be improved through shifting your focus.

My wife, Kathi, and I have been brown-bagging our lunch lately in a small park located near our work site. Being keen on observation, I noticed early on the abundance of imaginative fodder available there. We wisely choose to concentrate on simple things like grass, trees, birds, and animals. Occasionally we take the short hike to one of the ponds in the area where we see the handy work of beavers, though we’ve yet to actually see the critters. Every now and then, we glimpse a rabbit. However, we typically watch squirrels – the small, four legged kind. I specify because there are quite a few human species of squirrel out and about. To clarify any confusion that might erupt, I offer the following:

While eating at the park recently, Kathi and I watched as a large, white van pulled into the driveway of one of the houses directly across from us. Three men climbed out of the van, walked to the curbside near the mailbox, and turned in unison to face the house. Like some comedy trio, they studied the house and lawn, each taking a turn at removing their hat and scratching their head, as if whatever they were observing presented a near insurmountable problem. After a few minutes of this – it seemed a lot longer – one of the men went to the van and pulled out an extension cord. After – with some difficulty I might add – finding an outside electrical outlet, he plugged in the cord. Again the three aligned themselves and stared at the house. Finally one of them pulled a hedge trimmer from the van, plugged it to the cord, and began trimming a rather large bush near the garage. The other two did nothing but watch. It took the poor guy about ten minutes to make the bush look worse than it had before the trimming. After that, they all climbed back in the van and drove away, leaving several other bushes and the lawn, which needed attention as well, untouched. Hmm...

It has certainly been a long, circuitous route, but I am finally seeing light at the end of the tunnel with my 4th Elliot novel. I hope to have it completed soon. Now comes the fun part: Editing and rewriting. If anyone would be interested in being a beta reader, please let me know.

Please check out my writing at the link below:


Twisted Perception is now out in audiobook. Please click the link below:


I want to thank everyone who signed up for my Reader List. I hope you enjoy the newsletters and special mailings. If you know of someone who might be interested, please forward this newsletter to them. We give away prizes on occasion, so stay tuned. Signing up is easy – just email your request to:


Or click here: http://www.bobavey.com/

On the right side of any webpage, you will find a notation that reads: Sign Up For Bob’s Newsletter. Put your email address in the box and hit subscribe. You will automatically be entered into a monthly contest to win free books.

Gray from Puerto Rico won the autographed book this quarter. Congratulations Gray.
I also give programs for writing clubs, reading groups, or any group that’s interested. If you belong to a club that needs a program speaker, keep me in mind.

You have permission to reprint, forward, or use the contents of this newsletter in your newsletter, blog, or e-zine. The only requirement is the inclusion of the following footer:
This article was written by Bob Avey, author of Twisted Perception, Beneath a Buried House, and Footprints of a Dancer. http://www.bobavey.com



Wednesday, August 09, 2017

Back in the Game


A large eagle glided silently over my path as I crossed the bridge, spanning the Arkansas River near Jenks, Oklahoma. It was going to be a good day.

On the third day of August 2017, I rolled out of bed with a different agenda in mind. I had unfinished business. The email I’d received the previous day was sent as a reminder, but I had not forgotten. I was, in fact, looking forward to it.

I backed the BMW from the garage and set a course for Woodward, Oklahoma, not the office as usual. The decision was neither spontaneous nor poorly thought out, though somewhere west of Enid I began to question the integrity of the satellite feeding information to my phone. I halfway expected the face of Rod Serling to appear in my rearview mirror. A signpost just ahead came into view.

Thankfully, the signpost made no mention of the Twilight Zone but indicated instead that Woodward was eighteen miles away. A few months earlier, the Woodward Library System had contacted me and asked me to be a part of their Summer Adult reading program. I am happy that I accepted the request, and thankful that I was able to make the trip. I truly hope all of the wonderful people, who attended the event, enjoyed the experience as much as I did.

Okay, let’s try this again:

About a month ago, I was sitting in a hospital lab, waiting to get… well, you know, stabbed or jabbed in one way or the other. I’ve been doing way too much of that lately.  Thankfully it has been on an outpatient basis. Anyway, I’d showed up two days earlier, like the endocrinologist had instructed me to do, only to be sent home, after having fasted – that means skipping midnight snacks, breakfast, and coffee – to return a few days later. It seems the doctor had requested the test, but had not scheduled it.

Am I missing something here? If a doctor requests a test be done on a certain day, isn’t that technically the same as scheduling it? And I used to think the accounting profession was convoluted.

To cut to the chase, while I was sitting in the waiting room, a young lady dressed in hospital attire came into the room, dragged up a chair, and sat beside the other young lady, who was already behind the desk and also dressed for the occasion. The young lady, who had already been behind the desk, acknowledged the presence of the later arrival with a curt nod, but for a few minutes, neither of them spoke, neither to me nor to each other. Yeah I’m liking neither, nor today. To compound the puzzle, the second young lady did absolutely nothing constructive or otherwise that I could ascertain, but simply sat there, perhaps conducting mind over matter exercises. The silence was finally broken when the later arrival began to complain about her hours. 

From the conversation that I could not help but overhear, I determined that the second young lady was there as some sort of disciplinary action. I didn’t pick up on what she might have done to earn the detainment, but what cruel form of punishment would give you a twenty minute break from work while still being paid for it?

It gets worse. Her complaining amounted to protests for having had to take off an extra half hour for lunch due to her working  a half hour overtime. I’m no Einstein but, relatively speaking, a negative half hour coupled with a positive one equals zero. And I’d be willing to bet she was paid for the overtime. No wonder the cost of medical care is soaring at a rate nearing the speed of light.

Please check out my writing at the link below:


Twisted Perception is now out in audiobook. Please click the link below:

 


I want to thank everyone who signed up for my Reader List. I hope you enjoy the newsletters and special mailings. If you know of someone who might be interested, please forward this newsletter to them. We give away prizes on occasion, so stay tuned. Signing up is easy – just email your request to:


Or click here: http://www.bobavey.com/

On the right side of any webpage, you will find a notation that reads: Sign Up For Bob’s Newsletter. Put your email address in the box and hit subscribe. You will automatically be entered into a monthly contest to win free books.

I also give programs for writing clubs, reading groups, or any group that’s interested. If you belong to a club that needs a program speaker, keep me in mind.

You have permission to reprint, forward, or use the contents of this newsletter in your newsletter, blog, or e-zine. The only requirement is the inclusion of the following footer:

This article was written by Bob Avey, author of Twisted Perception, Beneath a Buried House, and Footprints of a Dancer. http://www.bobavey.com

 

 

Wednesday, July 26, 2017

Just Have a Little Faith


In the past – of which I must admit recalling the defining moments has become more difficult lately – I would always dread the thought of putting together a newsletter. However, without fail, once I started to write, the words would just happen, as if I had some sort of hidden well of thoughts that was only accessible when I wasn’t really aware that I was trying to. The well seems to be hidden. I guess I’m trying too hard.

Anyway, in searching for the light side of things, which used to come quite naturally to me, I now seem to struggle. It’s been a rough couple of years, but I won’t go into that. Instead, if I can’t find lighthearted, I’ll reach for something else.

A few years ago, quite a few actually, I was near a schoolyard during the summer when the school was closed, swinging a metal detector over the ground to see what I could find beneath the soil. I used to do that as much as time would permit. It’s a highly misunderstood hobby.

Curious passersby would often ask me, “Hey does that thing actually work?”

No, I would think but not say. I just enjoy waving a metal rod over the ground. You should try it sometime.

Or, “Hey, have you found enough to pay for that thing yet?”

Oh, I don’t know. Have you won enough tournaments to pay for your golf clubs? Perhaps you’ve caught enough fish to pay for your bass boat?

Just as it is with golf and fishing, the hobby of metal detecting isn’t about the money. It’s about relaxing and having a good time. But I stray from the point. While I was lost in thought, intently listening for the subtly different nuances of sound the detector was putting out, a boy of about twelve years of age walked over and got my attention. I nodded and removed my headphones.

He dug into his pocket, pulled out a handful of coins, and held them out for me.

The more I tried to explain that I didn’t really need the coins, the more insistent he became. I finally told him to scatter the coins across the schoolyard so I could find them with the detector. He was a good kid who thought he was helping me out. I often wonder what happened to the kindhearted lad. Good things I hope.  

On another occasion, I was walking across the parking lot of a local convenience store when a teenager with dirty, scraggly hair approached a lady. “Could you loan me some money for cigarettes?” He asked.

The lady explained that she would not give him any money, but instead would go into the store and purchase the cigarettes for him. To my surprise, the dirty, young man was overcome with thankfulness. He asked her what he could do to repay her. She told him to do something nice for someone else, if he got the chance.

In a world permeated with negativity and violence, random, selfless acts of love and kindness are not overshadowed, but instead shine their light into the darkness. We should all strive not only to become aware of such behavior, but to also act as conduits through which the light of Jesus can shine.
This article was written by Bob Avey
http://www.bobavey.com

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