The Violet Collar, NOW Available!

I am so pleased to finally bring this book to you, my friends.

It has been a long time coming, and was a tough project. But oh my goodness, it’s a great feeling to finally have every last detail finished! A lot of people over the years here have encouraged me to write a book. It sure sounds good, but it’s no small task to really get it done.

If you have enjoyed my creative writing here on myspace, you are definitely going to enjoy this book. If you are new to my stuff, then you are in for a pleasant surprise. Without further ado, the cover:

My brother, John J. Arnold, did the painting itself. He is easily the most brilliant artist I know. Thank you, my brother. It could not be more beautiful.

Also, a major thank you to our very own Dirty Sally!! Her photoshop skills are well known, and in this case, she extended her help, and a LOT of hours, to assemble the painting with her ideas to bring it all together, front and back. I am just pleased to no end, with the result. Thank you, dear Sally. Here is her website:

www.dirty-sally.com

The cover turned out great, and so did the story!!!

I really love the characters, and I gave this book every bit of talent and skill and feeling that I possibly could.

About a year ago, I announced I would make this book a reality, in honor of the young miss bonnie parker, the girl who initially inspired me to write the story, and the main character, Jessie. I want to thank bonnie for everything related to this story, including gracing the cover with her likeness. In addition, I want to thank bonnie for all the love and good things that made it possible. bonnie, I cannot thank you enough.

but I think you know.

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THIS BOOK IS AVAILALE TO ORDER NOW!!!!!

Just click the picture!!!

On my website, you can order an autographed copy!!!

I MADE THIS BOOK ITS VERY OWN MYSPACE PROFILE!

I will be posting the initial chapters on the blog there!

CLICK HERE TO READ THE INITIAL CHAPTERS!

Make sure to add the profile and subscribe, if you want more! I will post a few more chapters tonight.

In a very cool twist, right before I sent this to print, I found an actual orphanage with the namesake of Jessie Roslin, our heroine. Given the importance of the orphanage in my story, it was just too perfect.

I got in touch with the man and his wife, that founded the orphanage in Indonesia, and made arrangements. SO, for every copy I sell of this book, I will donate a portion to this orphanage, on behalf of Dominic and Jessie, and all of you.

the orphanage is here:

www.roslinorphanage.org

It will really help me, if you would be so gracious as to order a copy of my book, and now, it will really help some children too. How cool is that???

You can get them as gifts for others, as well as for yourself!

If you want others to get in on it, then promo this blog, and send them over!!!  Thank you my friends.

It’s a true pleasure to share this book with you.

So go check it out, and get your copy!!!

~Samuel

My NEW Job

So, this year, I attempted to fully recover my real estate career.

I am a talented Broker, to be sure. I have made hordes of money in real estate. Finally, this year was my time to break back into it. Except, I couldn’t. The real estate market is still “there”, but the reality is, if you don’t close property consistently, you have to go punch a clock somewhere. Especially if the holidays are approaching.

So, I needed a job for the winter.

Why not go to the mall?

I have never worked in a mall before, but with Christmas approaching, they are surely hiring, right? So, I went to the most high-end, affluent mall in the Denver area. I applied at a few smaller stores I was interested in, and a bookstore... and then a department store.

A quick rant-

What is it with job-hunting these days?

When I was younger, you filled out an application, asked to see a manager, and you shook their hand and looked them in the eye, and you got a shot at getting hired right there. But no longer. Ohhhhhh no. Now, you damn whippersnappers have us all applying for the jobs ONLINE. That seems like it should be more convenient, but when I don’t get to look the boss in the eye, I am just one more screen of data to them. I can’t set myself apart!

And then, they have personality tests now!! They don’t just want to know about your last few jobs- they ask questions now like “If you saw a co-worker stealing merchandise, would you

a) help them?

b) look the other way?

c) admire their technique?

d) tackle them down until the security guy gives them a swirly?

It’s madness.

Fortunately, on my journey, while I was filling out their silly questionnaire, the Boss Lady walks by, and stops in. Yay! Not only do I get to talk to the BOSS, but she’s a girl. It’s my lucky day.  So I did what I do, and *poof*! I got the job. They had not hired anyone in a year... and they hired only 8 of us. My fellow new-hires had either been recruited or had harassed them for months, for the job. Me? I just walked in and got it. My timing was perfect.

So now I work at a major department store, and its really quite nice. I am remembering why I rarely shop there, though. A necktie for $135??? Yeah, I don’t think so. But I have always bought my dress shoes there. You guys know I never skimp on my shoes.

They gave us some crap work to do, the first week. Straightening out departments for inspection, tedious stuff. Training. Then, they hand-picked four of us, to send us to the most coveted job in the store. The sort of job other employees have to wait a year to even get a shot at. The biggest money position of the store. They handed it to me.

Selling women’s shoes.

Why is it such a good job? My new co-workers are making $15 to $28 a hour back there! And this particular retailer is nationally known for having a kick ass ladies’ shoes department.

So, I said, let me get this straight- I can make in excess of $20 an hour flirting with rich girls and talking shoes with them?

ok, I guess I could do that.

My first mission was to learn the stockroom, which is no small feat. There are 140,000 pairs of shoes back there!!! And they just got in a huge mountain of new stock. So, I get to spend a week in back learning how to find the shoes. You ladies wear some crazy shoes, by the way. Weird, crazy, and even seriously ugly shoes. But hey- if you want to buy them, I am ok with it. It used to be that my wife would come into these places and burn up my money on this crap. But now, karma has allowed me to benefit from crazy girl spending.

Yesterday, I was walking across the displays, and this girl had these smoking red heels on. She had boxes everywhere, and was surrounded by her fellow cute girls. So I stopped and told her “Those heels rock. Those are HOT!” and they were! I chatted with them and joked with them for a minute, and then moved along. A few minutes later, I saw her choosing and ringing up the hot red heels. The power of suggestion?

Interesting.

But even more so, was my first sale yesterday. I wasn’t even supposed to be selling, but this girl was sitting there with her friend, not more than maybe 17 years old. They looked forlorn, and far be it from me to pass them by and not help!! “Do you girls need some help?” I asked innocently. “Yes!” they responded eagerly, and showed me what they were looking at. The one girl had just come into an extra $100, and what’s a young girl to do?

Buy shoes!!

So I helped her for a minute, she made her choice, and we went to the register. This is going to be like shooting fish in a barrel, I think to myself. I didn’t even have to try! She picked out some Converse-looking shoes that were $88 because they were made by ‘Coach’. Damn.

But what amazed me was the look in her eye.

This girl was just radiant about her new shoes. Seriously, you’d think she had just fallen in love with Prince Charming. Her eyes sparkled, her face beamed, and she was so excited. It would seem that buying a really great pair of new shoes can be quite a thrill, and maybe even more so, if they are pricey like ours, with some great brand name.

Who’d have thought?

So, I get to make good money flirting with rich girls, talking shoes, and watching them light up with joy as they select their new magic items...

and it’s going to make for some damn good blogs, too.!

ah, and I get to wear my cufflinks.....

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Soon, I will release my new book, The Violet Collar, for purchase!

I will be posting the first chapters right HERE so you guys can get a sneak preview!!!  Stay tuned!!

JOYRIDE

So, let’s say a relationship is like a car. There would be me, and my mate, there in the front seats. A lot of times I would drive, sometimes, she could drive, and I could watch her smile and rip corners while rocking her music, with the top down, just taking in her beauty.

wonderful.

But sometimes, we crash.

A scratch in your paint won’t hurt the ride, overall. But what if we crash hard? What if we really wreck bad? Of course, a relationship can be totaled, just like a car, and that ride is OVER.

But even when a car can be repaired, its never quite the same, is it?

It doesn’t ride quite right. Maybe the frame is bent a little. Maybe there’s a rattle that just won’t go away, even though the car was declared ‘fixed’. In the analogy of a relationship, we do make mistakes, and have to apologize, and forgive, and move forward. And really, if you can keep your car going, keep it running, you can have some great rides, and one day your relationship is a classic, and you make it to the very end, even if it still shimmys a little from the fenders you crunched.

I have this dream.

I dream that I could be in this great relationship, and NOT CRASH THE CAR!!!!

No screw ups. No blunders. No damage worse than a scratch in the paint. No damage that leaves us limping, or broken down. What if I functioned at such a high level of excellence that I just didn’t falter? What if I expressed respect at such a high level that the idea of flat-out disrespect from me was absurd? What if I watched my words, and my temper, and didn’t lose my head? What if I was just that damned awesome?????

What if I could drive that “car” with so much skill and talent that I just never crashed? What if I maintained our ride, so that we never broke down? What if I could be the one, that when storm clouds roll in, and the road is washed out from mud and rain, and there’s a giant cliff on one side, that I could be there, my hand steady on the wheel, guiding us through, blue eyes piercing the storm, bringing us through safely, perfectly, with certainty.

This, I feel, could be me.  That’s who I want to be.

I want honor.

Not from the world. I mean PERSONAL honor.

I want it bad.

I have not yet achieved this lofty goal.

If love were a game of basketball, in my mind, I am better than Michael Jordan. I can see myself making the shots- swish! Every bounce, every pass- I own it. I can see that in my mind.

But when it comes to putting the ball through the hoop for REAL

damned if I don’t clank a lot of brick shots.

It makes me nuts. Why can’t I execute the way I believe I can???

my only saving grace is that every now and then, I drop the game winning three, and when I do, I rock it. It’s really something to see.

Even with all my imperfections, I still dream of this life, where I could have the fuel I need to bring it on home, without a single dent, nothing that a little polish won’t shine right up. A ride that’s fun, even in the storms.

A lot more game winning shots.

and not a single crash or breakdown.

now that would be a joyride.

The Blog Challenge:  Write Your Own Eulogy

here is mine.

____________________________________

Samuel died at 39 years old.

Born in 1970, to a mixed and mixed-up family full of decent people, Samuel fit in only in an eclectic sense. Ever a black sheep, his journey did take him to some kind souls that understood him, or at least, accepted him.

Samuel’s life was forever altered by an accidental shooting when he was 14 years old. Much was lost that day, in a ripple effect running so deep, there could be no way to see all that was affected by it. Mercifully, just as much as there was terrible pain brought on, that very event shaped Samuel into who he would become- a humble man, one that trusted in God, one that wanted desperately not to hurt other souls.

One that wanted to help.

Samuel forged his way into adulthood, trained by a USMC Drill Sergeant for a stepfather, the insane group of stoners he called friends, and with the generosity of a few young girls who graced his life. His family contributed to him in their own unique ways. At 23, Samuel discovered he was to be a father. Rather than shrink away, Samuel, in his trademark style, had to do it up big, instead. He rose up, to raise his son, and the two boys who became his stepsons. He had another, too, and he always said that raising his boys, his precious sons, was the finest and most important thing he ever did with his life, easily. He was proud of how he fought that good fight, and he knew that it was at least one thing his father was proud of as well.

At 34, Samuel suffered a tough divorce. Having achieved great career success, and making a million dollars in real estate, he stepped into a new life, no longer a boy, but every bit as vulnerable. His 5 year odyssey from there was one of discovery, about what was important in life, and what true love really means. He came to be content in ways he had never known.

This odyssey also included his discovery of his love for writing. Oh, how he loved to write. He opened his veins and poured himself out on his pages, for those who would read. He found his voice, perhaps his calling. The joy he found in sharing it, and touching others’ lives, was something he relished like nothing else. As he wrote, he discovered the very thing he would want to be said, when his life was finished.

Samuel fell in love at 37, with a girl named bonnie. She lent him great inspiration, as she loved him in return. His joy in writing for her even surpassed that of his other works. He undertook the project of writing a love story, for her. True to form, he did it up big, writing a love note that spanned 96,000 words, a work that the whole world could enjoy along with them. As with any love story, theirs was not without difficulty. Even as it ended, he desired that their story go on.

His intent to write the next story sadly cut short, this one testament lives on, published only after his passing. A body of work that was to be so much more, yet, is still fitting, as it is. Samuel would be content, for the moments he had, the breaths he took, and the words he wrote. His love for his baby sons was endless, and remains so.

Samuel wanted those who cared to know that in death he would find relief, as he suffered his share, in the days God gave him. Some might grieve for him, or celebrate for him. In the last goodbye he would receive, Samuel just had one last hope- that there might be a few precious souls looking on that would be able to simply say

“he helped me.”

ride again

another last kiss

another wild ride

another crime committed

another place to hide

another laceration

on this old heart of mine

another instigation

stealing one more lime

another celebration

ended in defeat

another foolish game

and everyone was beat

another simple poem

descended from my bliss

another tale of heartache

slips softly to abyss

an empty place of nowhere

though all have fallen in

glad to be unnoticed

for the very sweetest sin

keened in giddy ecstasy

acute to the obscene

soaked in certain sadness

starving, growing lean

another wave I rode upon

knowing I would land

tumbling in the coral

smashed into the sand

lie a little longer

horizon at an end

the fizzing surf kissed my feet

daring me to ride again