Gregor Demands Waffle Holster Tax

Gregor is unhappy with the American pseudo-hero fixation. He’s talking about those guys who pop up, grab media love, look flawless and then implode in front of the entire world. He’s thinking about those guys who can’t keep their waffles in their holsters.

Gregor wants these miscreants to be taxed, hard.

There was a time when heroes seemed real, sort of. Gregor remembers those days. But it was a self-delusion. Gregor understands they probably had holster problems, too. But they got away with it because the media looked the other way. Did that make it right? No! It just set Gregor up for disappointment. Gregor is displeased with unholstered waffles. He wants someone to pay.

Gregor remembers preachers crying all over his TV screen because their waffles got loose. You know their names, right? Gregor does. They strolled around in front of us all, collected all kinds of money, said all the right things. They looked good. Their haircuts were perfect and they all had tans. These guys had partners, and their partners all seemed devoted and in love. Gregor was certain these preachers had it all going their way. Then, ka-boom! They turned into burnt marshmallows in front of a vast, unsuspecting population. They were disloyal and had been spewing swamp gas for decades. Bummer. Why?

They couldn’t keep their waffles in their holsters, that’s why. They need to be taxed. They need fiscal redemption. They need to be penalized and handed a bill for interest and late payments. They need to give something back, other than words.

How about those politicians? Gregor remembers them all yacking about the moral life, family values, to always do the right thing. They chattered about loyalty, fidelity, the high road. They looked pretty sexy, very appealing. They had wonderful, intelligent, articulate partners. They all kissed, hugged, held hands and showed off their families. It was the American ideal. Then, ya-coozer! Up they went in smoke, right there on our TV screens, again. They moaned, cried, asked for forgiveness. But it was all too late. Why?

They let their waffles loose, just like those preachers. They should have been taxed into oblivion. It’s OK to give them a second chance, but only after they’ve paid the tax they clearly owe.

How about that Austrian kid from humble means? He started lifting weights at 15. The dude worked hard. Very hard. By the time he was 20, he was Mr. Universe. Not a bad start, Gregor thought. He took America by storm. The beefer broke into movies. Some were not so good, right? But he persevered. He always looked pretty good on the screen, although the dialogue could be a bit problematic. Anyway, he worked hard, again. The kid became the Terminator and hit it big. Then he became the Governator and hit it even bigger.

Oops. It all went sideways for the Governator. Why? You guessed it. His waffle had been loosed many years prior. His wife terminated him. Gregor was disappointed, yet again.

He should have paid a heavy tax for his holster failure. But, no! No tax at all. Gregor doesn’t think it’s fair. Gregor demands change!

OK, so Gregor admits that guys often have waffle holster issues when their egos get out of control. Our country is filled with them. Let your mind wander through the long list of politicians, preachers and media idols who have gone crunchy at the height of their influence. It fills a tome. It could be the start of a meaningful tax roll.

Gregor believes all of these people should have been heavily taxed. There’s still time to set things right. The money should be collected and spread around to those unsung hero-guys who keep their waffles in their holsters. In fact, Gregor wants these loyal guys to get a tax refund.

Forget about taxing the rich. Tax those guys who have waffle holster issues. Tax the heck out of them. Load them up with interest and late-payment fees. Make them feel a little of the pain they’ve spread around the world.

Gregor would feel good about this kind of tax.

Gregor lives here.

Writers Workshop: RocketBook Flashback

A reader asked me when I had my first encounter with E-Publishing. It was way back in 1998, and it involved an E-Reader that no longer exists, the Rocketbook.

Back then, I had just signed a contract for a fiction novel with a very new, very forward-looking publisher. At the same time, NuvoMedia announced the Rocketbook, an E-Reader that cost $500 and was supposed to be targeted at the so-called “massive market” of potential E-Book devotees. Take a look at the photograph of the Rocketbook. Do you remember it?

This new gadget was massive, and it was expensive. It weighed in at 1.25 pounds, had a screen that was often difficult to read, didn’t have great battery life by modern standards, and had only 4MB of flash memory. That was enough to hold about 4,000 pages of material. There was a “pro” version available for more money that offered 16MB of memory and could hold as many as 40 books. By today’s view of the world, this wasn’t much to crow about but, hey, it was a very new, forward-looking foray into what would become a ubiquitous tool for readers. At the time, it had only one competitor called the EB Dedicated Reader (by SoftBook). The RocketBook was thought to be the best, the next sure-fire, must-have gizmo.

The publisher converted my book to the right format and got it stuffed into the RocketBook. The novel ran about 100,000 words, so everything seemed to work out nicely. An open house/marketing gig was set up in San Francisco and the public was encouraged to visit and taste this new treat. I was invited to sit on a three-person, open panel discussion of the modern wonder, from the writer’s perspective, of course. The event was fun and pretty well attended.

Well, the story does not have a happy ending. The RocketBook struggled on for the next five years and finally died. It never took off. It was too far ahead of its time and it just wasn’t sufficiently easy to use or light enough to be considered truly portable. But, that darn device was sure a lot of fun. I only had one E-Book stuffed into my RocketBook, and it was my own. There just wasn’t a lot of material out there. By 2003, the RocketBook was a memory. Mine lies sleeping, mostly forgotten, somewhere in my attic.

Thankfully, my novel lived on because it was originally published in the traditional way. The RocketBook took the other path. However, I remember being thrilled with the RocketBook because it opened up all kinds of possibilities and helped me see the future of publishing. I don’t think about the old behemoth too often but, when I do, my memories are happy.

The moral of the story for writers is to keep looking forward. Technology is fantastic and evolving so quickly that it’s sometimes difficult to keep up. But, keep up we must, if we are to maximize our opportunities to get our work in front of others.