Unfollowers?

I have recently discovered that a few of my Facebook friends have decided that they no longer wish to see my posts in their feed. They have “unfollowed” me. Technically, we are still “friends”, but they just don’t really care about anything I have to say. Meanwhile, they are still keenly interested in my validating their every move with a “Like” or some kind of “attaboy!” comment.

I’ve been trying pretty hard to figure out what I have done to deserve this level of ignorance, but I am at a loss. I have, however, determined a pattern. All of the “unfollowers” are people who have political views that range from slightly to astronomically different from my own. This makes me sad. I treasure my friends with opposing viewpoints. They keep me honest. They challenge me when I stray too far from simple truth and into areas of emotional minefields. I learn from them. I hope they learn from me. In all cases, I am respectful of everyone’s opinion. I never name-call. I never belittle.

I went back through my posts. I found some with political content. I re-read them. I re-re-read them. I read the comments and discussions attached to them. I found no hate. I found no vitriol. I found no ardent support for one or the other divisive candidate. I did find some criticism of both candidates and one former president. None of this was hurled hatefully, but rather in response to a news article or posting by some other person. I also found some historical references that really didn’t take a side, but that sparked some lively conversation. In none of this, however, did I find any disgust, disrespect or even any overly sharp, unresolved disagreement.

All I can say is that it appears some of my associates cannot take even the slightest measure of disagreement without running for a “Safe Place” far away from my stinging monologues. (Tongue firmly in cheek.) I’ll say it again. This makes me sad.

I first joined Facebook years ago in response to an invitation from an old college buddy. I was thrilled to catch up with so many old friends from my past. Some were schoolmates. Some were colleagues. Some were family. It was all good. I celebrated with them when they shared their joys. I placed my virtual arms around them when they shared their grief. Facebook was a good place to be. I was among friends. All of that changed in 2016.

You might wonder how I know who has “unfollowed” me and what made me even think about it. It really hit home this past week. My family experienced a horrific tragedy. All of my relatives close to me huddled together to support one another – as families are supposed to do. I thought of my Facebook circle and craved the comfort of the friendship I have so often found there. I posted a few updates. Support poured in from dozens of really terrific people offering condolences, support and prayer. It was a good thing. But then something started to dawn on me. As I scrolled down the list of people who had reacted to my posts, a few names were conspicuous in their absence. There were names missing - names I had followed for years and cheered on when they got a new job, were given some kind of reward, had a child accomplish a milestone or garnered some kind of praise. There were names missing that I had whispered in my prayers so that they may receive divine comfort or blessings – names I numbered as blessings of my own as I counted them among my friends.

I told myself that I was being foolish. It’s ridiculous to think that every acquaintance will see every post I make on Facebook. It’s even more ridiculous to expect them to step up and chime in on every single event in my life. It is. It really is. I miss tons of them myself and hope my friends are not hurt by it. I’m not making that kind of point. With hopeful optimism I scanned down my timeline. With each entry I read, my heart sank. The same names were missing each and every time. No post had unanimous responses, of course. But, the same few names were among the missing going back months.

I then decided to look at the timelines belonging to the missing friends. Without fail, these were people who figuratively rain posts down onto Facebook and who must spend countless hours watching their notifications mount up. They are also the ones who appear countless times on other, mutual friends’ posts with gleeful contributions to conversation after conversation.

This kind of narcissism is not what Facebook is supposed to be about – at least not for me. It began as a wonderful place for me to share a laugh, share a cry, and share the moments of my life with people I care about. Yeah – I sometimes brag about my kids on Facebook. I sometimes rejoice at my own accomplishments. I sometimes even have an opinion about something. I expect my friends to do the same. This is not the only thing that defines a friendship, but it certainly is a cornerstone. People who only want a one-sided friendship are being victimized by their own selfishness and insecurity. I feel sorry for them – but I don’t need them in my Facebook circle.

So – for those of you who still bother to keep up with what I am doing and what happens to me, thank you. If you should get the urge to “unfollow” me because of something I posted, here’s an idea. Talk to me about it. Imagine that! If your feelings are just too hurt to open that dialog, do me a favor. Don’t “unfollow” me. Just drop me altogether. 

Man's Disproportion - Blaise Pascal

It is no secret to those who know me that I am a huge fan of 17th century philosopher, mathematician and towering polymath, Blaise Pascal. The excerpt below is from his collection of thoughts entitled Pensées. It is a large part of the inspiration for my novel, Motes. Read. Enjoy. Have your mind blown. Marvel at the genius that produced this nearly four hundred years ago.

***

Let man then contemplate the whole of nature in her full and grand majesty, and turn his vision from the low objects which surround him. Let him gaze on that brilliant light, set like an eternal lamp to illumine the universe; let the earth appear to him a point in comparison with the vast circle described by the sun; and let him wonder at the fact that this vast circle is itself but a very fine point in comparison with that described by the stars in their revolution round the firmament. But if our view be arrested there, let our imagination pass beyond; it will sooner exhaust the power of conception than nature that of supplying material for conception. The whole visible world is only an imperceptible atom in the ample bosom of nature. No idea approaches it. We may enlarge our conceptions beyond all imaginable space; we only produce atoms in comparison with the reality of things. It is an infinite sphere, the centre of which is everywhere, the circumference nowhere. In short it is the greatest sensible mark of the almighty power of God, that imagination loses itself in that thought.

Returning to himself, let man consider what he is in comparison with all existence; let him regard himself as lost in this remote corner of nature; and from the little cell in which he finds himself lodged, I mean the universe, let him estimate at their true value the earth, kingdoms, cities, and himself. What is a man in the Infinite?

But to show him another prodigy equally astonishing, let him examine the most delicate things he knows. Let a mite be given him, with its minute body and parts incomparably more minute, limbs with their joints, veins in the limbs, blood in the veins, humours in the blood, drops in the humours, vapours in the drops. Dividing these last things again, let him exhaust his powers of conception, and let the last object at which he can arrive be now that of our discourse. Perhaps he will think that here is the smallest point in nature. I will let him see therein a new abyss. I will paint for him not only the visible universe, but all that he can conceive of nature's immensity in the womb of this abridged atom. Let him see therein an infinity of universes, each of which has its firmament, its planets, its earth, in the same proportion as in the visible world; in each earth animals, and in the last mites, in which he will find again all that the first had, finding still in these others the same thing without end and without cessation. Let him lose himself in wonders as amazing in their littleness as the others in their vastness. For who will not be astounded at the fact that our body, which a little while ago was imperceptible in the universe, itself imperceptible in the bosom of the whole, is now a colossus, a world, or rather a whole, in respect of the nothingness which we cannot reach? He who regards himself in this light will be afraid of himself, and observing himself sustained in the body given him by nature between those two abysses of the Infinite and Nothing, will tremble at the sight of these marvels; and I think that, as his curiosity changes into admiration, he will be more disposed to contemplate them in silence than to examine them with presumption.

For in fact what is man in nature? A Nothing in comparison with the Infinite, an All in comparison with the Nothing, a mean between nothing and everything. Since he is infinitely removed from comprehending the extremes, the end of things and their beginning are hopelessly hidden from him in an impenetrable secret, he is equally incapable of seeing the Nothing from which he was made, and the Infinite in which he is swallowed up.

What will he do then, but perceive the appearance of the middle of things, in an eternal despair of knowing either their beginning or their end. All things proceed from the Nothing, and are borne towards the Infinite. Who will follow these marvellous processes? The Author of these wonders understands them. None other can do so.

Pronunciation Guide for Motes

It has come to my attention that the pronunciation of some of the names and places in my novel, Motes, elude many readers.  In an attempt to remedy this, I have created a list of character names, places and other words that might be troublesome. Most of these words are Darjian in origin. The language of the Mu’ahi is, of course, nothing like any language found on Earth. The way these words are expressed in the book are approximations as close as can be done using common English letters.

I hope this guide is interesting and useful for you and that it brings you more enjoyment from your reading. It is by no means exhaustive. If there are additional words from the book you would like me to expound upon, drop me a message here or send an e-mail to tilmerwrightjr@gmail.com. 

If this post confuses you because you are unfamiliar with my book, you can find a nice review here... http://redcityreview.com/reviews/motes-by-tilmer-wright-jr/  Or - you could just bop on over to Amazon and buy a paperback or Kindle copy for your very own. (Hint, hint.) Also - if you have Amazon Prime and a Kindle, you can borrow the book for free from the Kindle Owners' Lending Library. Here's a handy-dandy link for you. https://amzn.com/1484855000

Enough marketing - on with the guide!

Names of Characters

Zhor Remmin – Daughter of Lah                                               

“Zor” – Rhymes with “Four”

“Remmin” – Rhymes with “Lemon”

Lah Remmin – Father of Zhor

“La”, as in “Fa-la-la-la-la”

Axila Remmin – Mother of Zhor

“Axe” + “I” as in “Kitten” + “La”. Accent is on the middle syllable. Rhymes roughly with “Godzilla”.

Thom Finch – Son of Hugh

Pronounced like “Tom”. The “H” is silent, as in “Thomas”.

Nar Synna – Commander

“Nar” rhymes with “Car”. “Synna” is pronounced like the first two syllables of “Cinnamon”.

Kel Transik – Scout

“Kel” rhymes with “Tell”. Last name is pronounced “TRAN-sick”

Coe Bahrn – Scout

“Coe” rhymes with “Snow”. “Bahrn” is pronounced just like “Barn”.

Og Hassit – Scout Team Manager

“Og” rhymes with “Cog”.  “Hassit” is pronounced “HASS-it”

Lum Ihtwal – Keeper of the Holy Scriptures of Ro’ini

“Lum” rhymes with “Gum”.

“Ihtwal is pronounced “IT-wall”

Sku Guytl – Engineer

“Sku” rhymes with “True”. “Guytl” is pronounced “GUY-tull” with a de-emphasis on the short “u” sound. Run the “T” and “L” together, just as it looks.

Ghama Ettinor – Linguist

“Ghama” rhymes with “Pajama”. “Ettinor” is pronounced “ETT-in-or”, pretty much like it looks.

Tya Habb – Linguist

“Tya” is pronounced “TIE-ah”. “Habb” rhymes with “Crab”.

Ymata Kalzor – Navigator

“Ymata” is pronounced “ee-MAH-tah”.  “Kalzor” is pronounced “KAL-zor”. The “Zor” portion is pronounced just like Zhor’s name.

Ahrv Golzhin – Scout Khalana

The “H” is silent in “Ahrv”. The name rhymes with “Carve”. “Golzhin” is pronounced “GOAL-zin”. The “Zin” portion  rhymes with “Pin”.

Dit Tanno – Scout Khalana

“Dit” rhymes with “Kit”. “Tanno” is pronounced “TAN-no”.

Xix Chronna – Mu’ahi physicist who was the first to propose “bending”

“Xix” rhymes with “Kicks” and begins with a “Z” sound as in “Zoo”

“Chronna” rhymes with the western name, “Donna”

Cuyt Mullek – Early pioneer in bending technology

“Cuyt” is pronounced “COO-eat”

“Mullek” is pronounced “MULL-ick”

Ro’ini – Deity to the Mu’ahi

Pronounced “row-EE-knee”

Lord Feynhardt – a hero of epic proportions

“Feynhardt” is pronounced like “FINE-heart”.

Duke of Ramshead – an evil grabber of things not belonging to him.

Pronounce the Duke’s place of origin as “Ram’s Head”. Some have thought this was “Ram Shed”.

The following names are pretty common so their pronunciation should be obvious.

Hugh Finch – Father of Thom

Barbara Finch – Mother of Thom

Ella Finch – Sister of Thom

Eliot Williams – Thom’s best friend

Jeff Stover – Professor

Max Highsmith – Reverend

Mae Combs – NSA Agent

Roger Bishop – Homeland Security

Edward Davison – Bishop’s partner

Beth Holbrook – FBI Special Agent

Evan Calabrese – Holbrook’s partner

Noah Weatherly – FCC

Maureen Clearwater – Technician

Doyle Winstead - CIA

Princess Elise – One to be rescued

Places

Darj – Home planet of the Mu’ahi

“Dar” alone rhymes with “Car”. Add a “J” sound like at the beginning of words like “Jealous” and run the two sounds together as one syllable.

Za’ahana – The Darjian sun

Pronounced “zah-a- HA-na”. All of the “A” sounds are the same – as found in words like “Car”.

Ammonarsik – Largest city on Darj

Pronounced “am-un-ARE-sick”

Other Words

Mu - A single being from the planet Darj
Pronounced just like the sound a cow makes

Mu'ahi - More than one Mu
Pronounced "MOO-ah-HEE"

Mullek – The largest harvest vessel ever built by the Mu’ahi – named after Cuyt Mullek

Pronounced “MULL-ick”

Eloni – The harvest ship previous to the Mullek

Pronounced “Eh-LOW-knee”

Khalona – A team leader

Pronounced “Kah-LOW-nah”

Now - go read the book again (or for the first time) and relish in your newfound knowledge!

Two Little Birds

I am a man of faith. That does not mean I am superstitious, but rather that I believe in an Almighty God who is sovereign over all of creation. Superstition implies such things as “luck” and other random occurrences outside of the parameters of expected events. Faith, on the other hand, implies trusting in the nature of a loving Creator whose ways and actions are not always readily evident – but rather rely on belief for acceptance.

God’s nature is beyond our understanding and is therefore by definition “above nature” or “supernatural”. This is where many people confuse faith and superstition, but I will not labor on that point anymore or else risk making this post overly boring.

I believe that God is capable of speaking to us, His creation, in any form He chooses. I believe that this communication at one time was audible speech as recorded in the Holy Bible. I believe that while God certainly could speak audibly to us now, he chooses not to for reasons that His wisdom conceals. We may hear His subtle voice privately in our ears or we may receive messages from Him via sermons or music that He has inspired in other people. He may also choose to speak to us in myriad other ways, as situations demand and His decisions dictate.

I say all of the above in an attempt to lay a foundation for what I am about to share. If I were to read what I am about to write without some kind of context and without familiarity with the author, I would conclude that it was written by a deranged or possibly dishonest individual. I hope you think I am neither of those things, even after you read this.

Here goes.

I walk my sixty-pound mutt of a dog every day before dawn. As we approach the warmer months, the tail end of my walk usually sees the sun start to light the morning sky. It’s a quiet time and much of my walk takes me through a wooded area in my neighborhood bereft of houses on both sides. I always use the time I am walking in this area to conduct my morning prayers. I call out to God and thank Him for allowing me to live in His grace on His good, green earth. I thank Him for the privilege of approaching His throne with my petty, and sometimes selfish, petitions. I express my gratitude for His one and only Son who suffered, bled, died and rose again to give me the key to the throne room itself. I follow this introductory thanks with a simple outpouring of my daily concerns.

My prayers of late have been centered around direction. What does God want me to do with the remainder of my years? My kids are getting older. I need to help them make the transition to adulthood. How should I counsel them? How should I help get them ready for college and what lies beyond? How should I be investing my time so that my wife and I have a profitable and enjoyable life after the nest is empty? What kind of career choices should I be making? These are all questions that are too large for me to tackle alone. I ask for help. I ask for whispers in my ear from the Holy Spirit. I ask for discernment so that I can tell the difference between those whispers and the shouting of voices from the world. Such was my prayer today – April 28^th, 2016. I ended it with the usual invocation of the name of Jesus and continued on my walk.

As I walked, I became aware of a light rustling in the bushes to my left. Suddenly, a female cardinal fluttered out of the greenery, flew directly across my path (only inches from me) and landed in the street to my right. She cocked her head, emitted a light chirp and then flew away. “What a pretty little bird,” I thought to myself as I resumed my walk. I often encounter birds, deer, armadillos, opossums and other wildlife on my strolls, but this little bird practically brushed across my chest.

I arrived back at my house, put the dog away, got in my car, drove my daughter to school and then made my usual twelve-mile commute through Pinellas County to my office. I pulled into a space at the back of the parking lot and turned off the ignition. Immediately, a fiery red male cardinal landed on my passenger side window sill and thumped the glass with his wings. Startled, I looked over at him. He chirped softly and then flew to a tree right next to my car. He sat there for about a minute looking at me before flying away and out of sight.

So…

Is this merely odd coincidence or an attempt to get my attention? Sadly, I’m too thick-headed to readily grasp the meaning (or non-meaning) of these avian encounters; however, I have resigned myself to this much. I believe that these little birds did have a message for me. I don’t know if there’s more to their message or how deep it goes, but I’m convinced that at the very least my Heavenly Father sent me a feathered receipt for my prayerful deposit this morning. I spoke. He heard me. He then told me that He heard me in a way He hoped I would understand. For that I am thankful. I am hopeful. I wait upon His will in my life and I am ready to do my part in it.

And here’s the best part – for you at least. If Almighty God takes the time to send two little birds to comfort a lowly child like me, then surely He cares for you. He hears you. He listens. He responds. He loves you. Two little birds told me.

Republicans are Towering Idiots

I am proudly registered to vote as an “Independent”. That’s right. No “R” or “D” on my card. It says, “NPA” – “NO PARTY AFFILIATION”. That’s because in my opinion, both the “R” party and the “D” party are full of nothing but self-serving, borderline megalomaniac idiots. I’ll save the ideological venom I have for the “D” clowns for now. I want to focus on just how mind-bogglingly stupid the Republicans are here in 2016. If you are reading this 50 years from now you might find it hard to believe. More likely, you will think to yourself, “Oh, so that’s how it all started” as you strain to read the text printed on yellowing, cheaply made paper through your generic, government-issued eyeglasses.

I am writing this little rant on Wednesday, March 16, 2016. It is one day after the Florida primaries. What is left of the Republican party is in a panic. They started out with seventeen (yes, seventeen) candidates lined up to run for the office of President of the United States. At the outset, the projected nominee from the Democrats was a filthy liar (at best) and probable felon, Hillary Clinton. (Sorry. A little venom dripped out there.) The presidency was ripe for the picking given this pitiful offering from the left. As a result, a plethora of candidates lined up to take their stab at it. Now that we are oh so deep into the primary season, it has become clear to everyone except the mental midgets running the Republican Party that pretty much everyone hates them all. They are hated because they are self-absorbed liars, hypocrites, and cowering wimps. Most of the current Republican Congress population got elected by claiming to be fiscally conservative and dedicated to fixing all of the cronyism and corruption in Washington. They pretty much were unanimous in lying through their teeth the whole time they were saying these things. People got mad. Meanwhile, the Democrats mumbled to themselves about how mind-bogglingly stupid the Republicans were acting when they had been given a golden opportunity (and a mandate from the people) to do pretty much anything they wanted. But hey! The debt-fest could continue unabated. Corrupt anal pores on the left could take comfort in the fact that the sphincters on the right were just as black-hearted and selfish as they were.

But they all forgot about the people.

The people came out and started voting in the primaries in large numbers. They decided that the one thing they could do that might make a little bit of a difference was vote. And, since there were two candidates in the race that all politicians seemed to universally hate, they got most of the votes. Ted Cruz, even though he was an elected Senator from Texas, got votes because all of his enemies tried to denounce him by saying he could not get along with anyone in Washington. Ding! The people said, “Great! Neither can I!” The other vote-getter, and currently the front-runner, was Donald Trump. Trump stormed onto the stage with rhetoric that was loud, obnoxious, foul-mouthed, and bombastic. He may be mentally ill. He hates all politicians equally (or at least claims to) and they all universally hate him. (No claim there. They do hate him and are proud of it.)

Since none of the “good old boys” can win the nomination, all of them are banding together and actually seriously considering circumventing the will of the people and contesting the nomination at the RNC. I do not like Donald Trump. I don’t trust him because I have seen him on two sides of too many issues in too short of a time. I don’t know who he is. But – and here’s the important part – if he is the top vote-getter, then he wins the nomination. If he gets the most votes in the general election, then he is the President. That’s how it works. You can’t just change the rules because your guy didn’t win. This is not schoolyard dodgeball we are playing here. I didn’t vote for Barack Obama. I do not agree with many of his policies and ideological beliefs. But – again – he was duly elected so he is the President, whether I like it or not.

If the dumb-as-a-turd-sandwich Republicans scuttle the voting process and just nominate an establishment candidate against the spoken will of the people, they will be destroying themselves. I suspect the party will never recover from it. People hate stuff. People hate feeling like they are being swept under the rug more than most other stuff. Millions come out to vote in primaries. They go out of their way. They make themselves late for work. They stand in line. They vote. The ones who do vote believe in the process. Step on that belief at your peril.

All of this should be screamingly obvious to even the most obtuse dullard, yet my gut tells me that the Republicans will continue on their death march. I’m going to go all Nostradamus on your butts here and formulate my own prediction. Tune in come November and see how I did.

• Trump continues to steamroll opponents in the primaries despite a valiant fight from Ted Cruz.
• Kasich, in his mania, remains in the race until the bitter end, hoping to be the guy who gets tapped by the “Good Old Boys” at the convention, even though he waltzes in with fewer than 200 delegates to his name.
• Cruz drops out once he sees that the math cannot work anymore. I think he’s the smartest of the ones left so he will know when he’s beaten.
• Mitt Romney and the rest of the Robo-Republicans wring their hands with self-righteous angst and announce that they are going to have to “consider” how things have fallen out and how best to beat the Democratic competition.
• Meanwhile, on the “D” side, Hillary Clinton collects enough delegates to win. The FBI mysteriously delays any decision about the ongoing investigation into her e-mail server. At least one witness associated with this investigation ends up dead – a suicide victim with two bullet wounds in his head. Bernie Sanders cries and smokes a joint to calm his nerves. Close examination of ballots would reveal that he actually beat Clinton, but nobody beats a Clinton and lives to tell about it. So – Hillary wins.
• The RNC is a joke – and not a funny one. Trump supporters, outnumbering establishment butt-heads two to one, protest loudly. Kasich beats his fists on his knees in despair as the party nominates Paul Ryan – who wasn’t even running. Ryan picks Romney as VP. Trump people storm out of the convention, possibly starting a fire or two on the way out. They, along with all of the Cruz voters, vow to never vote for a Republican again.
• Trump forms a third party campaign and splits the Republican vote in the fall. Conservatives hold their noses and vote for him while the hypocritical posers vote for the establishment candidate Ryan. 
• Hillary Clinton waltzes into office essentially unopposed.

Heaven help us. 

The Blues 

An old friend of mine gave me this years ago. It's not my original work. If someone knows who deserves credit for this, please let me know and I will append this post accordingly. It really hits my funny bone so I thought I should share with you. It's not a "story" but it's still entertaining.

***

After decades of academic research, the following has emerged as a codification of the blues.

1.       Most Blues begin, "Woke up this morning."

2.       "I got a good woman," is a bad way to begin the Blues, unless you stick something nasty in the next line: "I got a good woman with the meanest dog in town."

3.       The Blues are simple. After you have the first line right, repeat it. Then find something that rhymes ... sort of: "Got a good woman with the meanest dog in town.  He got teeth like Margaret Thatcher and he weigh 500 pound.: "

4.       The Blues are not about limitless choice.

5.       Blues cars are Chevys and Cadillacs. The Blues cannot travel in Volvos, BMWs, Toyotas, or any sport -utility vehicles.  Other acceptable Blues  transportation is a Greyhound bus or a southbound train; jet aircraft and state-sponsored motor pools are out of the question.  Walkin' plays a major part in the blues lifestyle.  So does fixin' to die.

6.       Teenagers can't sing the Blues.  Adults sing the Blues.  Blues "adulthood" means being old enough to get the electric chair if you shoot a man in Memphis.

7.       You can have the Blues in New York City, but not in Hamilton, Ontario, or Vancouver B.C.  Hard times in Saskatchewan or Nova Scotia is just depression.  Chicago, St. Louis, and Kansas City are still the best places to have the Blues.

8.       The following colors do not belong in the blues:

• violet
• beige
• mauve

9.       You can't have the Blues in an office or a shopping mall.  The lighting is wrong.

10.    Good places for the Blues:

• the highway
• the jailhouse
• an empty bed

     Bad places:

• Ashrams
• gallery openings
• Ivy League institutions

11.    No one will believe it's the Blues if you wear a suit, unless you happen to be an old man, and you slept in it.

12.    Do you have the right to sing the Blues? Yes, if:

• your first name is a southern state-like Georgia
• you're blind
• you shot a man in Memphis
• you can't be satisfied

     No, if:

• you were once blind but now can see
• you're deaf
• you have a retirement plan or trust fund

13.    Neither Celine Dion nor Anne Murray can sing the Blues.

14.    If you ask for water and Baby gives you gasoline, it's the Blues. Other acceptable Blues beverages are:

• wine
• whiskey or bourbon
• muddy water
• black coffee

      The following are NOT Blues beverages

•  any mixed drink
•  any wine kosher for Passover
•  Snapple (all flavors)

15.    If it occurs in a cheap motel or a shotgun shack, it's a Blues death. Stabbed in the back by a jealous lover is another Blues way to die.  So is the electric chair, substance abuse, or being denied treatment in an emergency room. It is not a Blues death if you die during a golf tournament or while undergoing liposuction.

16.    Some Blues names for women :

• Sadie
• Big Mama
• Bessie

17.    Some Blues names for men:

• Joe
• Willie
• Little Willie
• Big Willie

18.    Other Blues names (starter kit):

• name of physical infirmity (Blind, Cripple, Lame, etc.)
• first name (see above) plus name of fruit (Lemon, Lime, Kiwi, etc.)
• last name of President (Jefferson, Johnson, Fillmore, etc.)

For example, Blind Lime Jefferson, or Cripple Kiwi Fillmore, etc.

19.    Persons with names like Sierra, Sequoia, and Rainbow will not be permitted to sing the Blues no matter how many men they've shot in Memphis.