clues at the scene

clues at the scene

Thursday, April 16, 2015


At left, a photo by Semnoz on wikicommons of the 2006 for the Paris to Dakar auto race. I have a close relative who competed in the Paris to Dakar years ago in 1981. Finished.

I've met a lot of people this week. I loved it.

I've also attended an event that left me deeply disappointed.

I'm a trout guy. I went to a trout unlimited dinner tonight with a buddy.

I've been to Quail Unlimited, Ducks Unlimited, and  related pheasant organization annual dinners. These follow a common theme.

There are raffles (buy tickets and put them in a bucket), and auctions.

I'm done.

Ultimately, what happens is that I win zero. I won't pay for the goods I want at auction ( bid cigars to $250 that went to $350 .... wouldn't go).  I lose at a silent auction. I don't win at raffles.

What happens - like tonight- is that I leave with a $350 door prize worth .,.. $20.

Now, I know I'm crying spoiled grapes. I didn't win. Hell, I never win.

The list of prizes I've won by chance begin and end when I was in fifth grade and won the grand prize - $100 - in a raffle for the catholic high school football team.

I kept the money ( the priest thought I should donate it back to the team ) and that pissed off a lot of people. Hey, I paid my $0.25 for the ticket! I was spending those winnings!

I haven't won since.

Makes me feel like a loser. Makes me not want to play anymore.

So I won't.

Oh, I'll give money. I'm a soft touch. I have IRS letters trying to disavow charity donations. I won. I beat the IRS.

I just won't go to any "win prizes prizes prizes" sort of event ever again. I leave and feel cheated.

When you make winners, you make losers. Remember that in your writing.

You make a hero - you make a goat.

You have lightening strike the same guy five times (happened tonight), you make someone else want to drown the bitch.

Something good. Something bad.

I am glad I live on the bad side of the equation. So much more fun. You get to leave a body count when you are bad.

I know what the next dead body in my novel looks like.

Mind your creation of losers. You might end up in print.

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