GETTING PERMISSION

An author recently wrote about the difficulty of getting permission to reprint quotes, etc. Mainly she was having trouble getting up with authors--they would not respond to her queries. This always ticks me off, assholes, you would think they took some page out of Truman Capote's love of self. Anyway, in thinking about it, I mainly sent this reply and thought that maybe some might want to see my approach. And, my answer is right out of my personality, ENTP.

Jean, this is a crazy sort of thing getting permission. You can spend lots of time on it. I chose to thank everybody in the world, if you'll look at Phil's poetry book: Rhymer IN The Sunset and, I think it was where I said, "I might have missed getting permission and if I did, I would acknowledge in future additions."

Granted, my approach is somewhat laissez faire with the idea that I didn't have anything (meaning money) anyway and so why sue me. Or, I would not callously do things, surely not intentionally steal someone's material. I personally think authors are too sensitive. You would think that they had discovered a cure for cancer and wanted to keep it to themselves. Still, I would do the best I could in acknowledging other's works. With a book like yours, I don't see where there would be difficulties. If there were, you simply say, "sorry" I won't do it again. In Flanders Field, I think it is in the public domain.

And, as I have looked at writings, I think there's a pretty broad spectrum of approaches. For instance, a very famous author wrote a book, (many of these famous authors don't write the books, they just lend their names to them); in one particular book with him as author with somebody else who probably wrote the book--they absolutely took at least a half dozen quotes from my book, Gen William C. Lee, the Father of the Airborne, word for word. Some of them quite lengthy. Nobody ever asked my permission and basically, I could care less. Needless to say, most don't have my attitude. Sorry I can't be more helpful.

KITE RUNNER

Last night I saw Kite Runner, had read the book. Fascinating movie. The book was better but good story and a decent movie making job. And, made me realize too that where we need to be putting our emphasis is Afghanistan, not Iraq--in Afganistan, we have a chance to save a culture.

The story is pretty compelling and woven in it are the intricacies of growing up in Afghanistan, choices that adults make that effect our lives. And, it did give us some cultural glimpses which was very good. My wife says it was slow; my daughter countered with too much middle. There were a few things missing; the mother, how they got to America, the ease of going back to Afghanistan and getting out again. A heroic driver who is amazing in helping the protagonist accomplish his mission in Afganistan.

Then there is the history stuff: if you've seen Charlie Wilson's War or read the book, I think you would be more conscious of the Soviet invasion and how it all played out. There was one scene when the father and son were escaping to Pakistan when a Soviet seeks to have his way with an Afghan woman carrying a small child. The father of our protaganist refuses to allow him to shame her and is willing to pay with his own life. See this movie, read the book.
2 parachutes

MY BROTHER RAZ

I will never forget the day that my brother Raz went off to war. It was one of those blustery days when you just imagine it the same way when Jesus died. My brother’s leaving was everbit as bad. We had known it was coming for months. When Pearl Harbor happened, we all knew instinctively, even if nobody voiced it, that this was going to change our world forever.We surely didn’t think of this change in global terms, just within our family.

My brother was bigger than life. To me, he was born an adult. The rest of us were all trying to figure it out, but he was already there. He immediately tried to join up since he had been in the National Guard. Every week, he would go to town for drills. They didn’t even have guns, but I heard him telling Dad once that he felt like he was doing something.

Raz was only 16 in 1943. Mom insisted he finish school which had only 11 grades. The morning he was leaving, his two best friends, Marvin Slaughter and Jake Raynor came to the house. They all seemed to be excited, but I remember the family was very sad to see Raz go. I was trying to keep from crying and Charles was boohooing and Sis was sobbing like her life was over. Mom was being strong. Dad, as usual, was silent. We all knew this was supposed to happen. The world was being threatened; and, if it could be saved, our brother could do it.

We watched them drive down the dusty road, turning right and then disappearing up the road toward town. Sis stood at the mailbox by herself still weeping as if her heart was broken. It made us cry even more. She kept saying, “Hurry up and write, hurry up and write.” It would be months before we heard anything.

Later on, we discovered he was at Camp Perry, Virginia. He wrote this letter:
Dear Sis: This is going to be short as we just got some paper and
pen from the Red Cross to write on. The trip to Camp Perry was
on the train and we were crammed in like sardines. I lost track of
Jake and Marvin, don’t know what has become of them. I was in
the middle seat with two rather fat guys. One of them was from
Roanoke Rapids. He said it is in North Carolina but I’ve never
heard of it. He could talk, nonstop all the way. His Daddy owned a
hardware store and he was a clerk he said. And, now he’s headin off to
kill Japs. I hope I’m doing the right thing. I’m thinking about all of
you and the crops. Tell Corb that he has got to step up and make
sure that Charles and Hop pull their load. I don’t worry much
about Charles, he’ll toe the line but you know how your younger
brother is. He’s more apt to hide than work. But, he’s little and so
I guess we can’t be too hard on him. I know that my going is hard
on Pa, but he’ll move right on. I will miss the cookin something terrible.
Tell Aunt Gertie to send me some biscuits. I’m just kidding. I
don’t think I’m going to care much for this life till maybe I get to
me a ship. Take care of yourself and you better not get married till
I get back home. Your brother

Here's another one: Sis, sorry you haven’t heard from me for awhile but I haven't had a moment to myself for the last several weeks. I just got my ship assignment. We’re getting ready to start training on it. I can’t tell you the name of it as my Chief said the Japs might get a hold of it. (Raz was on the USS Gage, one of 117 attack ship, sometimes called Victory ships). Tell everybody hello and I’m missing you all.

And another, Sis, we are out to sea now. I don’t know when you will get this but a day never goes by that I don’t think of all of you. Life is pretty hard on board ship and yet you kind of get use to it. Do what you’re told and just put one foot in front of the other is what I do. I’ve heard tell that some of us might be taken off and put with the Marines. We picked up a bunch of them and when they get off the ship some of us might be Marines. I would volunteer but there’s a rule, don’t ever volunteer. Our work is pretty routine though. I got all your letters and can hardly believe how hot it has been and all the rain. How much did the tobacco bring? Was Ma able to get the new wringer washing machine that she wanted? Tell me who has been coming to the house for the Sunday dinners. I’m really missing them. I bet you’d think I was skinny as a rail if you saw me. This is not the best chow in the world. Are you still thinking about being a teacher? I hope you don’t get married till I get back home. Write and tell me the answers to all my questions.

My brother Raz had a very interesting and challenging military experience in World War II. The brothers loved to hear about his "war stories" and adventures. Afterall we were back home pondering what our eldest brother was up too. Here are a few of brother Raz's memories:

Every time I go to a reunion, although there’s only four of us left from my old unit, some of them discuss the old time battles which I tell them I’ve never heard of just to rattle them: When I tell them I don't remember, they just smile. All vets can tell some tall tales. I use to tell our folks I don't see why anyone else needed to go to war—with our record we won it. Here’s one for you.My outfit was in Guadalcanal getting ready for the invasion of Okinawa. We had already run the Japs away from that part of the world. As 17 and 18 year olds will do, they had their mind on woman. It didn't matter how they looked. One night as we were enjoying the nice cool weather, 138 degree temp, a band of locals came by checking on the troops who had invaded their territory. Apparently they were not afraid of us because they had several women with them. At least I guess they were women, as they didn’t have any tops on; and, suddenly, I was transported back to sneaking looks at bare breasted women in National Geographic.The women were not going to make the cover of Playboy whatever that might be— a bone in their noses and a thin piece of cloth around the middle. The warriors had some sort of head dressing, also a bone in the nose and the body covered with a loincloth. Most of us kept looking at the women, trying to figure how anyone could get excited about such females. The captain was able to communicate with them assuring them we didn't intend any harm. After the cruelty of the Japanese, I am sure we were a blessing.

I was standing guard at the edge of the perimeter with an old boy from Texas while the Captain was talking with our visitors. In typical Texas bragging fashion, this guy knew all the answers to getting hold of some of the women. When he approached me, I told him to “forget it, not me.” Even though the testosterone was rampant, I was not that stupid. Besides those warriors were carrying spears, and I was sure they knew how to use them. He kept tal king and continued to run his mouth. The Texan claimed that the women left in the camp of the warriors were pretty, eligible, and would welcome us with open arms. To hear him tell it, we could casually walk over and have us one glorious night. After all, we hadn't seen a woman in two years.

Being a young fool and against my better judgment, I decided to go with him. As we slid through the thick jungle, he continued to build up our case. Soon we came to the huts and began to peep in them. Just as we rounded a corner of the hut, a spear came by my head, followed by a warrior yelling at the top of his voice. It was like a horror movie. I lit out as hard as I could run, several of those warriors were on my tail. I dodged and ducked until I could spot our Camp. By this time, I had lost the warriors. Secretly, I was hoping they had either captured the Texan or stuck a spear in his rear. No such luck. He got away free, the warriors only spotted me. Without saying anything, later he confessed he saw them before I did and hid. The captain found out about it and restricted me to Camp for the rest of the time we were in Guadalcanal. The Texan claimed to be innocent and told the captain the only reason he was there was to go get me. I decided then and there never to trust a Texan!

Guadalcanal is in the Solomon Islands, northeast of Australia, and doesn't get much of a footnote in history. However in World War II it was essential to controlling shipping lanes between the US and Australia. Japan was eager to build an airstrip, and the US was eager to stop them.

Our brother Raz was right in the thick of it and faced some of the most difficult fighting in the Pacific. Corb found this brief account: “The main battle for this God forsaken place is about over but we still have pockets of Japanese all over the Island. Some of them are trapped according to our Captain but still are lethal to the natives and us Marines assigned the impossible task of mopping up these bastards. The cruel Japs can still command bombing attacks with awesome firepower. While asleep as a small patrol or in Camp, we constantly hear, "Jap bomber!" Then comes the whistling of the in-coming bombs. Japanese troops on the island who were harassing us were not many in number. However, they used their mortars to keep us on our toes and to enact a few casualties at a time. This was constantly nerve wracking."

THE CRAZY BOOK BUSINESS

My advice to anyone in this crazy business is: "As a writer, if I were you, I wouldn't be planning on retiring on book sales."

Supposedly, only 40% of Americans read a book last year. What is really weird is that book publishing is estimated (this from article in NY Times) will bring in $15 mil this year. 408 million books will be bought this year. And, according to the article, a survey conducted by some outfit called Ipsos found that 27% of Americans had not read a book in the previous year. However 27 percent read 15 books or more (I would estimate that I read, for instance, about 35 a year, not to include portions of books that I peruse); so, I guess there's hope.

Get this, 8 percent read 51 books or more a year. And, I guess that according to the article, a sizable minority does not read but it is balanced out by those who read alot. I would say I buy at least 50-75 books a year and so the idea that only 40% read books is a little statistically false. However, they are not reading my book. So...

IN MOURNING

The Wire is over. This is like a death. I've been watching it for five seasons and last night was the last episode. And, this morning, I am a little in mourning as some of my all time favorite characters are out of here. What has made it such a good show is that it is an arena that most of us don't have a clue about; inner city blacks, life, corruption, politics at the street level, etc. And, the show is peopled mostly by African Americans. I learned lots and was able to asked a couple of people who know, "Is this really the way it is out there?" Answer. Yes.

Each of the five seasons focused on various institutions: schools, politics, labor, the press: wow. I don't want to tell more than you care to know and make it a penguin story: (this little girl received a book from her grandmother about penguins and her mother kept hassling her to write her grandma a "thank you" note, Dear Grandma, thank you for my book on Penguins but it told me more about penguins than I care to know." ) Someone like me can often turn something into a penguin story quickly.

The Author of The Wire, David Simon and his writing partner, a retired Baltimore Policeman seem to really "get it." Simon didn't have the ending all wrapped up but pretty much left the culture in place: the drug dealing, the corrupt or self serving politicos--there was an implied ending, much like Lonesome Dove, if you are a fan: kind of flash backs, picture portraits: some making it, others not, the anti-heroes.

One of my heroes in the beginning ended up like all politicians, disappointing. Carcetti, the Mayor, where politics is all that matters (like we have never heard that before)is not interested in a better Baltimore, only one that looks better. Carcetti and Gavin Newsome of San Francisco remind me of each other. Instead of out getting "pot holes" fixed, they are trying to get to the Governor's Mansion.

The protagonist if there is one, McNulty, finally, along with Lester, his somewhat mentor opts for justice over truth. Some of it happened. Most of the characters are appealing and all of them stick in your memory. If your ears are virgin or prone to sensibilities involving language, The Wire is rife with the F, MF, and the N words--be warned.

The Wire, however, should become an American institution in terms of knowledge itself. And, I think that the best way to watch it, although I didn't but a friend suggested this: rent a whole season and watch. OD on The Wire.

THE WRITING LIFE

Every month when I get Writers Digest, I always love to kind of critique it. The April issue is chocked full of goodies, in a sense, even if I do just smile at much of it. I've been a subscriber for 20 plus years for sure. All of these writing magazines and books are pretty much the same. Holding out hope for us "would be" writers, with only a small chance to make it, whatever that means to us. To me, it has always been a hobby and now with the internet, I only have five blogs and a couple of websites.Somewhere along the way, it became important to me to write for MYSELF. I became a publisher, etc. to further that idea.

One article this time was a little on the humorous side: what if you are over fifty. How about sixty or seventy. The concept is that you can just about forget it. The young writers are the ones making hay, getting he big bucks, etc. true in a sense as the publishing business is so f..... up anyway but I guess what I always want to do is encourage writing. If it is in you, regardless of the age, WRITE. In today's world, there is a place to publish and that is no small thing.

I always do get fascinated when I read where some twenty year old has written some best seller, whatever that is; how can anybody at twenty know anything. But, they have imaginations and for me, it is more power to them. Still, the fact that us older types can't get an agent, some publisher who is interested, doesn't mean we don't have it: the secret is writing it truly for ourselves and the rest follows. My view, anyway. Plus, have a day job because that is where you get those experiences to write about. Good luck!

WHY IRAQ HAPPENED--The Myers Briggs Type Indicator

My first exposure to the Myers Briggs Type Indicator was in 1977, way back in the dark ages while I was in the military. Otto Kroeger, who is probably the foremost guru, of the theory came to do a workshop at Fort McPherson, Georgia. I was a young Major and truly didn't know my posterior from anything. And, reluctantly showed up at the seminar. As it turned out, it was a turning point for me in my life's outlook to say the least. In the military , I was always on the outside of the mainstream. I (ENTP)would be in a group and it was magic "group think" but I was not there--never seemed to see it like everybody else. However, I had become a good actor, realizing quickly that the military is built around cooperate and graduate. I was a good combat soldier but get me in the confines of peacetime and it was a struggle. By this time in my career, I had already been fired twice and miraculously escaped being pitched out of the military.

So, here was a theory that was mostly built around the idea that all of us are born with different personalities, plain and simple, not much we can do about it. This was revolutionary: simplistically, it seemed that to get to know our personality and others and to be able to get it to operate in an organization like the military would be super.

According to the Myers Briggs, you actually can be one of sixteen personalities and all of them have various characteristics, attributes and once we know what they are, we are better at knowing ourselves, understanding our personality and most important, making good decisions based on what our preference might bet. For me, I could see the possibilities. I read everything I could get my hands on and at the time was teaching a college course and immediately incorporated it into the course. This was life changing.

The Myers Briggs was based on the creditable theory of Carl Jung, the Swiss born Psychiatrist and somewhat rival of Freud. It was designed after years of research by two sisters, Isabel Myers and Katherine Briggs. The Myers Briggs could measure the conscious (as opposed to the unconscious)aspect of the personality. I thought, this is it and I'm out to sell it as this really is amazing. People can grasp this.

And, for at least thirty years I have been selling it, actually wrote a book, The Personality Factor, read by only two others beside myself. And, what I've discovered is that the Myers Briggs is a hard sell and for all these years, I have been amazed at why this is so. As an example, the Myers Briggs personality typing is applied to our present President which illustrates the Myers Briggs and its utility and may be the reason that it is such a hard sell: personality is just what it is and if there is a lack of understanding, then what use is it. Insight isn't worth a hill of beans unless something is done with it.

This could be an answer. And, as somewhat of a disclaimer, I don't know how I got the below, I think it showed up in an email but I always want to give credit. And, I found something helpful here: for the life of me, I have been unable to explain why we would be so stupid about Iraq after the debacle of Vietnam. This could be the basic reason: the President, then Secretary of the Defense, the neocons, the top generals have all but ignored the objective data about the stupidity of invading a country that has done us no basic harm, has no ties to the terrorists of 9-11, and most of all, have a tribal culture that the rational mind should avoid. However, given the Commander in Chief's personality type, then this war was assured.



**During the 2000 presidential campaign, I applied the principles of personality assessment, based on the theories of psychiatrist Carl Jung, to candidates George W. Bush and Al Gore. Forgive me if it sounds like gloating, but here's what my research revealed about the personality type of the future 43rd president of the United States:

"They are decisive and little bothered by second thoughts and self-doubt. Since [they] do not reflect very much on their errors or analyze their mistakes to any great extent, it is difficult for them to learn from their errors, and so they can become caught in a loop, repeating their mistakes." **author Emily Yoffe offered this insight.

APPLYING THE PERSONALITY FACTOR LOGIC

They are decisive and little bothered by second thoughts and self-doubt (Once having made up his mind, would not back up). Since [they] do not reflect very much on their errors or analyze (maybe not so smart, trusting too much on advisors: Rumsfelt, Neocons)their mistakes(never admit that they could be wrong. Present Commander not alone in this--when have we ever heard a politician admit to making a mistake) To any great extent, it is difficult for them to learn from their errors(persists in charging on when all objective data is that this is a fast train to nowhere), and so they can become caught in a loop,(living in parellel universes, where the evidence is overwhelming that something is not working, keep telling the lie) repeating their mistakes. (This is where someone like Condi Rice or Colin Powell have a moment in time to possibly change the course of history and choose to go along. "