DRINKS BEFORE DINNER

WHAT’S IN A NAME? WHAT’S IN A DOG? (part two) In my last entry, I promised a quote from well-known psychologist and dog expert Stanley Coren, taken from his excellent book, The Consciousness of Dogs . I’m going to deliver on that promise, but first, what exactly is consciousness? If you look in the Random House College Dictionary, you get this: “the state of being conscious; awareness. the thoughts and feelings, collectively, of an individual or of an aggregate of people. full activity of the mind and senses. awareness of something for what it is: consciousness of wrongdoing.” Of these definitions, “awareness of something for what it is” strikes me as the key. To be possessed of consciousness, I have to know what I am, and I have to know what other things are that aren’t me. You don’t have consciousness unless you can make this distinction. I have read that children are only partially conscious until sometime around the age of five. At this point, they have fully lost t...

                WHAT'S IN A NAME? WHAT'S IN A DOG?  In this instance, both name and dog are  Just Bill , the title of my fable for adults about a rescued Lab. If you read the first blog entry, you’ve already heard from Bill. Because he’s a dog, it would not occur to him to speak ill of anyone, or to hold a grudge.  True, it would not occur to him or any other dog to speak, period.  But if it did, and  he could, Bill wouldn’t bring up certain painful facts. That’s left to me, to describe how a dog devoted to his master is given up. How this happens and where it leads serves to dramatize the book’s theme—that lives are better, sometimes even saved through the relationship between a person and a dog. My own life is certainly better because I live with a dog, and I hope  Just Bill  makes the case for my point of view. What’s in a dog?  When I published  Just Bill , I asked Dr. St...

            JUST BILL: INTRODUCING A DOG-MAN COLLABORATION My name is Bill, and I’m a four-year-old Lab mix. Of course I can’t talk or type, but I’m on good terms with my mister. He’s decided to speak for us both. Why doesn’t he just speak for himself? No idea. After all, I’m a dog. But maybe speaking for both of us frees him in some way. Maybe imagining that I understand him helps him to think and type what’s on his mind. Is he exploiting me? If it makes him happy, fine with me. He’s done a lot for me. I was born a mistake, at a puppy mill. I wasn’t supposed to even be, let alone grow up, but here I am. The breeder didn’t drown me with my littermates. He let me grow up, out of curiosity. Then, when I was nine months old, I escaped into the pine forest. That’s when my mister came along. I was in the woods I don’t know how long, but one day I came out on the road, and followed the man who’s typing all this down. You co...

If you're a dog lover, or as in my case a dog nut, you have probably experienced the grief that comes with a dog's death. Even when you know a dog's suffering has come to an end, it's not easy to be rational or common-sensical about it. You loved her or him, and that loved one is no more. Some react by quickly filling the void with a new dog. The best way to fight loss is to head right now for the shelter or breeder, goes the argument. Others (that would be people like me) can't do such a thing. However much sense it makes, the idea of filling our need can't be so conveniently and quickly accomplished. It would be wrong, a utilitarian response to a deeply subjective state of mind and emotion. Grieving is for real, and quickly bringing home a new dog won't do. It would be like losing one's spouse to terminal-something, returning from the service, and sitting down at the computer to check out some online dating site. That's why it took me three yea...

The question would seem obvious--until you think about "intellectual property." If ideas, concepts, visions, proposals, etc. are property, what isn't? Maybe nothing. Even so, it's worth making a distinction between what you see in the photo, and what bubbles up in your head as you sit on your patio with a rob roy before dinner. For me, the anti-matter to stuff is what's between the covers of books. Yes, books are stuff, but everything that happens in the mind while reading is not stuff. So, if you resist the idea of being controlled by things, don't neglect to read.     And what better to read than one of my suspense novels, say, The Anything Goes Girl.

Question: What kind of novelist writes a blog, but doesn't provide a link to his author website? Answer:    An author who is perhaps overly reliant on Xanax.  The author webite in question is: www.bwknister.com Please visit to learn about my suspense series featuring Brenda Contay, a young journalist, and my soon-to-be re-released novel of magical realism, Just Bill.

Greg Levin, a novelist living in Texas has decided to wash his hands and probably his entire body of conventional wisdom related to genre "identity." His books aren't really this, that or the other, so he has chosen to call them "Other, not another." I like this idea, and think it applies to my novels. I call them "suspense," but that's not really accurate. When the protagonist and the antagonist meet just once at the beginning, how can I call GODSEND (my latest) a work of suspense?  I thought for a while of calling my stuff  Noir Lite or Untrue Crime. But no one's ever heard of such categories, so I think I'll start thinking of my stories as "Other." Anyone who's put off by this isn't likely to enjoy what I write anyway, so Other it is.  

Here's the link to a jokey piece that appeared yesterday (Friday, Aug. 27, 2016 http://thehiggsweldon.com/attn-dole-salad-kit-quality-control/

--Uh oh, you printed something off the Internet. Never a good sign. --Just a little confessional. An interlude to share during drinks. --Who’s the confessor? --Our good friend Congressman Bob Inglis, Republican from South Carolina. But only for a few more weeks. --Whoa, South Carolina. That requires wine, I’ll be right back. --OK, what’s the latest from Bubba Bob Inglis? --He’s had it, he’s kaput, out of a job. He lost the primary to a Tea Party type. --What happened? --He told his constituents to turn off Glenn Beck, and he failed to use the S word about Obama. --The S word would be Socialist? --Correct. When pushed to describe Obama as a socialist, Inglis waffled. All he’d say was that Obama, quote, “wants a very large government that I don’t think will work and that spends too much and it’s inefficient and it compromises freedom and it’s not the way we want to go.” It says his audiences paid no attention because they were just listening for the S word. When he didn’t use it, they ...

As in spyware, malware, mal a la teteware. The recent sweep that netted a posse of Soviet-era spies seems to have come up one short. That would be the viral mole who's holed up in my computer. When he is found and traded for a good hitter to fill a slot at the end of the Detroit Tigers batting order, Drinks Before Dinner will be back in business.

Barbara has the week off. If she didn't, she might caution against writing on something about which I know so little. But since that admonishment applies to almost everything in Drinks Before Dinner, onward and upward Glenn Beck: “When I see a 9/11 victim family on television, or whatever, I’m just like, ‘Oh shut up.’ I’m so sick of them because they’re always complaining.” “The only [Katrina victims] we’re seeing on television are the scumbags.” Michele Bachmann: “I don’t know where we’re going to get all this money because we’re running out of rich people in this country.” Rush Limbaugh: “We’ve already donated to Haiti. It’s called the U.S. Income Tax.” Ann Coulter: “I don’t really like to think of it as a murder. It was terminating [Dr. George] Tiller in the 203rd trimester…. I am personally opposed to shooting abortionists, but I don’t want to impose my moral values on others.” “There are a lot of bad Republicans. There are no good Democrats.” Rand Paul: (on BP) “Sometimes, acc...

--It’s a beautiful evening. Want to sit on the patio? --You go ahead. --What’s wrong? --No, go on ahead, I’m fine. I just want to sit here. --Come on, fess up. What’s wrong? --“Fess up.” That’s an apt phrase. Eleven Russians were arrested for spying this week. The cold war ended twenty years ago, but they were ordered to maintain their deep-cover mole status anyway. --I read about it. They were all posing as suburbanites. --The FBI’s been tracking them for seven years. Seven years, Barbara. --So what? You thought the Russkies just Fed-Xed all their spycams and shotgun mics back to Moscow? Their wigs and fake beards? --Apparently, they never learned anything to pass along. --Well, isn’t that a good thing? --One of them tried to buy a cell phone. She gave her address as Fake Street. That’s how the crack FBI operatives nabbed her. The only reason the Bureau sprang into action is because one of the others bought a one-way ticket to Cyprus. You can’t invest seven years of taxpayers’ money o...

--Sweetheart, you’re talking to yourself again. --I was dressing myself down. I was taking myself out to the woodshed. --Please don’t tell me you forgot to turn off the coffee maker again. We don’t need any more caffeinated tar. --Nope, on top of the coffee maker. --But you needed dressing down. Discipline. --That’s it, I lack discipline. Toughness and grit. Those are the qualities in short supply with me. But not with General Stanley McChrystal. I just read his discipline level allows him only one meal a day. --Well, he’ll have lots more time for the gym now. Maybe he can add a snack. --He will, that’s true. Although they run a pretty tight ship at these cable networks. I imagine he’ll be spending lots of time there soon. --You see him doing color commentary on the war in Afghanistan? --Almost certainly. After all, TV has welcomed back Elliot Spitzer. Notice how they’ve been rehabilitating him lately? He has his own show now. I see the same thing figuring for McChrystal. --Ah well. Li...

In recent days, BP CEO Tony Hayward has taken what few rational Americans would begrudge him—a break back in England from the oil disaster in the Gulf of Mexico. Except Mr. Hayward has a gift for getting it wrong. He took his break in a way guaranteed to dig his Stateside public relations hole even deeper: racing his 52-foot yacht Bob. From the position of average Americans, the most telling feature of this latest gaffe, and others by BP’s Swedish board chairman, is simply this: it underscores that in the new millenium, class distinctions in the Old World remain firmly rooted. So much so as to blind corporate plutocrats to any idea of how their words and deeds are perceived by those who don't belong to their "set." If any of us thinks European society no longer maintains sharp divisions based on privilege, the toffs at BP have set us straight. --Tony! My God, what a surprise. --Trevor! When was it last, Ascot? Boxing Day? I hope not, I was rather in my cups, I should thin...

--What are you reading? --A Free Press story about Samantha Ivory, fifteen, of Detroit. --Let me see. Nice picture. Samantha is hard at work at her computer. --She’s going to Cass Tech. --I know Cass, my dad went there. What’s this? The Freep for May 25. Today is June 18. --So? --Well, honey, we’ve talked about your memory “issue.” I don’t actually think there’s a problem, but seeing you reading a three-week-old paper… --Leads you to conclude my issue has finally set sail for real. --Not necessarily. I’m sure you have your reasons. The Freep’s not much of a paper anymore, and June 25 might have been a good issue. You could be saving good ones to reread on rainy days. --Nice catch. If it will ease concerns about needing to tether me before letting me outside, please understand I set this aside to look at later. Intentionally, on purpose. I promise I am not reading a three-week-old paper for the second or third first time. --Good. And what’s Samantha’s claim to fame… “Searching for a fix...

Today’s post focuses on dog fanciers and their object of interest. Or, from the FBI and the dog’s point of view, person of interest. Often, dogs and cats are thought of as baby substitutes. Those of us suffering from one or more of the diagnosed disorders related to dog obsession would be more comfortable with children classed as puppy substitutes, but it’s best not to go there. Not if the writer wants to avoid harsh email from parents and grandparents. What might serve everyone better is to dump the substitute idea and replace it with marriage. Or, in the case of those actually hitched, with extra-marital relations. If you own a dog or cat, you can ponder this idea in terms to your own experience. If not, please consider the writer a fairly reliable source. Honest people know that the concept of 50/50 marriage is nonsense. It’s the sort of thing dreamed up by counselors, encouraging couples to believe that a few dozen more sessions will ultimately lead to a finely tuned, symmetrical e...

Anyone not on life support will by now know what happened last Wednesday night at Comerica Park in Detroit. Tigers pitcher Armando Galarraga was denied a perfect game when veteran umpire Jim Joyce mistakenly called the twenty-seventh batter safe at first. Understandably surprised, Galarraga did not need to be restrained by his teammates as we have come to expect in such moments, struggling with vein-popping rage to get his hands on the ump. Instead, the pitcher reacted with a bemused half smile as the crowd went crazy. After seeing the instant replay umpire Joyce, obviously tormented by his mistake, apologized to the pitcher. Later, Tigers manager Jim Leyland said simply, “I make mistakes, players make mistakes, umpires make mistakes.” This would be a big enough story in any case, but it has gone viral or nova or whatever current jargon applies. It has captured people’s imaginations. The reason I think must be understood in terms of those pictured above, people who represent so many ot...

Today’s post focuses on dog fanciers and their object of interest. Or, from the FBI and the dog’s point of view, person of interest. Often, dogs and cats are thought of as baby substitutes. Those of us suffering from one or more of the diagnosed disorders related to dog obsession would be more comfortable with children classed as puppy substitutes, but it’s best not to go there. Not if the writer wants to avoid harsh email from parents and grandparents. What might serve everyone better is to dump the substitute idea and replace it with marriage. Or, in the case of those actually hitched, with extra-marital relations. If you own a dog or cat, you can ponder this idea in terms to your own experience. If not, please consider the writer a fairly reliable source. Honest people know that the concept of 50/50 marriage is nonsense. It’s the sort of thing dreamed up by counselors, encouraging couples to believe that enough sessions will ultimately lead to a finely tuned, symmetrical equality. W...

"From Napoleon to the present, French politicians of all leanings have invoked her memory” (Wikipedia). The quote refers to Joan of Arc. Here, though, the image invoking her memory is not that of the Maid of Orleans, but of the Pit Bull of capitalism, Ayn Rand. Yes, that’s the same Rand Texas Congressman Ron Paul chose as the namesake for his son, the Kentucky ophthalmologist running for the U.S. Senate. Since repeatedly confusing his area of medicine with podiatry by fitting his foot in his mouth (the better to say what he really thinks), Rand has taken to appearing in scrubs. Presumably, this authenticates his status as a healer, a man anxious to treat the nation’s ills. So it makes sense to reflect on his namesake Ayn Rand, suited up in full armor on a poster at a Tea Party rally last month in Naples, Florida. Mounted on horseback as military leaders always are, Saint Ayn is carrying the colors into battle. This time, it’s not the Siege of Orleans in the fifteenth century, but ...

I am grateful to the German language for a word—schadenfreude. It refers to the warm glow that honest people can’t deny feeling when someone they don’t like suffers in some way. It’s nothing to be proud of, this feeling, but it’s definitely there. --Are you happy to be back in Michigan? --Very. --Happy to be teaching again this summer? --Almost very. --Anyway, you look pleased with yourself. What are you so jovial about? --A mental image. I see Ayn Rand’s namesake down in Kentucky. --Really? Seeing Rand Paul should produce something very different in you. Say, a Tourette moment. --Oh, I’m sure a Tourette moment can’t be far away, but just now I’m enjoying the mental picture. --Do you know who Paul looks like to me? Bill Hailey, of Bill Hailey and the Comets. Remember him? Rand Paul has the same hilarious hairstyle. --I’m trying to avoid ad hominem arguments. You have your Rand Paul, I have mine. I see him wearing one of those headlamp reflector things. Ophthalmologists us...