My End of Year 2013 Blog

As 2013 draws to a close, I can look back and see it was a good one. Of course, I look for bigger things in 2014, but that is still off a ways yet. Look for a new PI Frank Johnson mystery series title (AFTER THE BIG NOISE) coming out. My crime noir novel TOPAZ MOON already has a listing at Goodreads. Mark it to read if it appeals to your reader tastes. There is more. Expect to see Isabel and Alma Trumbo making their next series appearance in THE LADYBUG SONG. I also have another short story collection (no title right now) in the works. With all that, I'd better get busy writing. Thanks for reading my blog posts, and all the best for your new year 2014, too.

Walking: The Right Daily Exercise For Me

Today I woke up to a rainy, cold, and raw day outdoors, and I still haven't gotten suited up to knock out my daily long walk. Or perhaps my 2.1 miles isn't all that long. My cousin told me over the holidays she now logs in hoofing 4 (!) miles per day. Anyway, getting back to the inclement weather, I may have to scratch today's outing at pounding the pavement. We'll have to see. Speaking of pounding the pavement, I pass by a few regular joggers. I tried taking up their sport (jogging), but I found it wrecked my knees, so I stopped it. I wasn't keen on getting a knee or hip replacement any time soon. I've heard of the popular Fitbit® activity and sleep wristbands. It keeps track of your steps taken and your calories burned during the day, and at night records your sleep quality. They intrigue me. However, at the moment, I don't move around enough outside of my walks to have any significant data worth tracking. Sometimes while I'm out and about, I'll think of writerly ideas. So, I figured out how to activate the voice recorder on my cell phone, and it has worked out nicely for me. I'm still waiting to be inspired to write my NYT bestselling novel. Until then, I'll just keep on trucking, as they like to say.

Did You See The Movie Or Read The Book First?

Just this past week I finished reading John Godey's The Taking of Pelham 123, a nicely done if somewhat deliberately paced subway thriller of almost 400 pages. The basic premise is four desperadoes get the bright idea to hijack a New York City subway car and hold its passengers hostage for a one million dollar ransom. Easier said than done. But one of the desperados is a former motorman who has the right inside knowledge to implement their caper.

The paperback edition I read advertises the 2009 movie starring Denzel Washington (who I really like watching act) and John Travolta. I also remember the original 1974 film adaptation with Walter Matthau, Robert Shaw, Martin Balsam and Héctor Elizondo. I haven't seen either movie although I'm more inclined to see the original one than the reboot which don't seem to fare too well. Goodreads friends who have seen the two movies have recommended the first one over the second to me.

When I do catch the movie, it will be interesting to see how closely it follows the book. Or if the movie takes off on a tangent of its own. If given a choice, however, I prefer not to have read the book first. It keeps me from enjoying the movie as much as I'd like to because I'm constantly comparing it to what happened in the book.

True Grit is another such example. This time I saw both movie versions before I finally got around to reading the book. All three were good in their own way. I like the Duke in just about all his movies I've ever seen, so I'm favorably biased about him starring in the first True Grit flick. What is your preference, seeing the movie or reading the book first?

What Terrific Reads Did You Get for Christmas?

It's no big secret I like watching film noir. The movies give me a break from my writing projects. Imagine, then, my delight to open the Christmas wrapping on A Comprehensive Encyclopedia of Film Noir: The Essential Reference Guide This is the whopper of a book my wife gave me for Christmas. It clocks in at almost 800 pages and must weigh at least a ton. Talk about reader bliss. Between its covers are all kinds of goodies about film noir, including the writers like Cornell Woolrich whose fiction was adapted for many of the flicks. I've been reading the various entries, and the author and I have similar reactions and tastes, a good thing. I've only run across one error, also a good thing. I'm not an expert or critic on the genre, but just another fan and admirer. There is something fun about viewing them. I'll post future blogs about this big book and how reading it adds to my movie-watching pleasure. I hope your holidays are also shaping up with interesting reads and hours of entertainment.

Happy Holidays to You!

We the staff (i.e., me) here at the Cracked Rearview Mirror Weblog extend our best wishes for your holidays. I appreciate your stopping by and reading my different blog posts throughout the year. Stay safe and have a good one.

I Enjoyed Watching NEBRASKA: Eye-Catching Photography & Masterful Lead Actor

This excellent American comedy-drama stars Bruce Dern, June Squib, Stacy Keach, and Will Forte. I haven't seen Dern in anything of a meaty movie role since Coming Home in 1978. He's usually a character actor filling a side role. He played out a whacked out tattoo artist with Maud Adams in the 1981 erotic thriller film Tattoo. Anyway, in Nebraska, Dern is an old geezer who is convinced he has won a million dollars. Obviously, the notification letter he carries is a crass come on and total scam. Nevertheless, he is bound and determined to travel to Lincoln, Nebraska to redeem his grand prize. His youngest son played by Will Forte does his best to humor his father's outrageous wish by taking him there since Dern has lost his driver's license due to his alcoholism. June Squib as Dern's long suffering, outspoken wife provides a refreshing measure of comedy. Nebraska is filmed in black and white, making the shots of the cornfields and rural towns crisp and barren looking. The pace is leisurely, and interactions are low keyed. IMDb.com gives Nebraska a very high 8.1 mark, and I concur wholeheartedly.

Which Books That Were Christmas Gifts Do You Remember?

I was idly thinking about this topic while out running errands this morning. I had to pick up our grapefruits sold by the Lions Club who do their great community service work. Anyway, getting back to the books. The earliest mystery novel I ever enjoyed was Alfred Hitchcock and the Three Investigators inThe Mystery of the Talking Skull by Robert Arthur. It was a Christmas gift from my parents. I thought the junkyard where the boy-sleuths met was a cool place to hang out. I'm not sure why a junkyard would have appealed to me, but it did. I believe the title was one in a series. The Happy Hollisters by Jerry West was another book that has stuck in my mind. The Deer Stalker by Zane Grey was another early book I have a vivid memory of reading. My pleasure to read Western genre books has carried over to my adulthood. American History books gave me lots of pleasure, but I can't remember any of the specific titles. Now we have the Kindles and such to store and display our books, and gift cards to redeem and download our favorite books. I hope you find satisfying reads over the holidays to get you started on the 2014 season.

About Those "Treasures" Kept In Our Attics Or Garages

We like to watch the History Channel TV reality show PAWN STARS. Maybe you've watched it, too. The show's format is basically folks bring in their valuable treasures and try to sell them to the skeptical pawnbrokers. But not always. For instance, Richard "Old Man" Harrison on the show just loves getting silver and coins, but he usually turns away stuff like sports cards and political pins. He says the value on those kinds of items fluctuates so much. When I was a kid, I could buy packs of Topps baseball cards at any 7-Eleven. My friends did the same thing, and I suspect the other kids did also. The rule of supply and demand would mean there is plenty of supply but little demand for all those baseball cards today. In other words, I don't view my baseball cards as a good investment. As a kid's hobby, they were a lot of fun, but that was about it. I don't think I could persuade the "Pawn Stars" to buy my baseball cards (if I still had them) for a fabulous amount of money. So, I guess I'll keep looking in my attic for the real treasure, but I think it's going to be a long search for me.

Typos: Are They Here To Stay As The New Normal?

Nowadays the typos are cropping up everywhere with increasing frequency, especially with all the independent presses and self-published e-books. The worst typos are sometimes so outrageous, they are comical. They certainly can change the meaning of a sentence. As a writer, I have to cringe a little at seeing these pesks. But then e-books can be fixed and uploaded again fairly quickly and painlessly to fix them. An opinion editorial by Virginia Hefferman in the New York Times describes how some readers "find humanity in orthographic quirks" like the typos and misspellings. Gone now are the legions of copy editors and proofreaders who once ensured the printed works produced by the big publishing houses were almost pristine and mistake-free. Nothing is more frustrating to a reader than tripping over typos in a book, especially after paying good money for it. (I use a beta reader and proofread my novels several times before I send them to my publisher. Typos still sneak in.) But I have to wonder if readers are becoming immune and resignedly accepting typos as the new normal found in the book world. I once worked with a technical editor who thought typos were "the hobgoblins of small minds" (of course, he was quoting Emerson's famous statement). Have you ever read a printed book and found where a previous sharp-eyed reader has corrected the typos in pencil or ink? Maybe they are a dying breed. Maybe today's readers just gloss over the typos, and they don't infuriate readers as much as they once did.  

Link to the New York Times opinion editorial cited in my blog:
http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/07/17/the-price-of-typos/?_r=0            

Tuesday's Overlooked Films: 99 River Street

This 1953 film noir, recommended to me from somewhere I've forgotten, turns out to be a gem for me. I haven't seen a better B picture in a while. It stars John Payne, Evelyn Keyes, Brad Dexter, Frank Faylen, and Peggie Castle. Payne plays an ex-champion heavyweight boxer who recently lost the biggest fight of his career. He now drives a NYC cab for a paycheck, and his shrewish wife (Peggy Castle) is tired of their boring marriage and lack of money. She hooks up with a smooth-talking diamond thief (Brad Dexter), and they make plans to skip town. Meantime Payne meets his actress friend (Evelyn Keyes) who has her own problems and seeks Payne's aid. The New York Times film critic at the time ripped the movie, but all the objections raised are the very things that make it fun. Evelyn Keyes delivers a crackerjack performance (one scene is a standout--you'll know it when you see it), and the fight sequences are well-done. John Payne who I've seen perform before in films makes for a convincing washed-up but not beaten yet pug. IMDb.com rate 99 River Street at 7.4/10.0, but I'd give it a solid 8.0.

PI Scott Shell: Hardboiled Made Fun

Shell Scott. I remember the PI character well. His rakish portrait with those infamous bone white eyebrows and short hair was stamped top center on front covers to the paperback series.

It was like an icon, a name brand, or a logo you couldn’t easily forget. Perhaps that was the publisher’s genius behind the marketing ploy. Those Shell Scott paperbacks by Richard S. Prather were on my grandfather’s bed table, drugstore racks, and with the 40-million (!) copies sold, just about everywhere you went it seemed.

This past summer while out on a book-buying junket, I snapped up his title DEAD MAN’S WALK (Pocket Books, 1965) for $1.95. Its original cost was a whopping 60 cents. A short while later, I started reading it and was hooked, as they say, by a fast-paced, somewhat intricate, and always outlandish yarn.

Shell Scott in this entry was dispatched to Verde Island in the Caribbean Sea to match wits against voodoo and murder and betrayal. Much has been made about Mr. Prather’s puckish humor for very good reason. In the novel’s opening scene, Scott ambling down the cruise ship’s gangplank is accosted by a local witch doctor who screams a curse on him. In turn, our hero simply retorts: “I’m going to pop you.” After some confusion, Scott’s balled up fist in the witch doctor’s face bridges any communication gap between the two. This is shades of Indiana Jones gun in hand confronting the fierce swordsman that also drew a laugh from me when I saw it.

One of the hallmarks of a Shell Scott title is the use of high-tech James Bondian trickery. In this plot, liquid nitrogen was to be spilled on Scott’s bare chest to freeze his heart’s pulse resulting in sudden death. The villain goes through a lengthy explanation of the grisly process climaxing with the pointed question: “What do you think happens?”

To which Shell Scott quips: “Nothing good?”

Cuteness aside, that’s a fiendishly clever scheme for a murder that I could’ve never dreamt up. The fight scenes and action sequences in a Shell Scott caper are every bit as gritty and lurid as those, say, in a Mike Hammer fisticuffs. Somehow, though, Scott manages to preserve his sense of humor even when a gang of thugs is bashing out his brains. The left hooks slammed to his ribcage pack as much pain but Scott’s readers are spared from experiencing all the visceral details in overwrought language. 

Not every groan is registered. Not every knocked out tooth is recorded. Not every death is notched. Rather than risk having the fight scenes reduced to hardboiled parody or mere rough-and-tumble slapstick, Scott recounts what transpires in a deadpan, tongue-in-cheek style. Humor, even if very dark humor, amid the violence serves as a genuine comic relief. Read Shell Scott and find yourself laughing aloud. Read Mike Hammer and find yourself scowling a bit.

In trying to pair Shell Scott with a hardboiled contemporary, Donald Hamilton’s long-running Matt
Helms series comes to mind. Both are narrated in a similar voice though Helms’ brand of comedy is much drier and understated. Helms is also responsible for justifying his actions to whatever government agency he works for while Scott answers only to himself. Certainly, Helms like Scott never seems to take himself too seriously while busting the bad guys but stays resolved to finish the job he has undertaken. 

That down-on-his-luck PI stereotype plied over and over in the genre doesn’t seem to fit the irrepressible Shell Scott series, either. In DEAD MAN WALKING, after things cool down and the dust settles, Scott still ensconced on his tropical island decides to stick around and enjoy himself. He doesn’t ride off into the sunset because it’s too gorgeous. He narrates: “It hurt to breath -- but breathing this clear air was restorative all by itself. Here there were millions more stars than are seen from smoggy L.A. Millions of millions.”

The first person point of view, I suspect, was popular in the 1950s and 1960s because its familiar hardboiled tone was tempered by Scott’s injections of wisecracks and often not-so-subtle ironic observations. Other pulp writers of the period applied the same formula but with Scott it was a matter of timing. He sensed the right place to throw a zinger into his telling of the tale.

Of course, there were the voluptuous “babes.” This was, after all, the misogynistic 1950s. Any such male condescension to females isn’t painted here with too wide of a brush. At one point, Shell spoofs his ideal of a lady in a surrealistic but sobering dream induced by hallucinogenic drugs: “Huge, roseate-tipped breasts hung over my face with the sound of hissing breath. They brushed my cheeks, burned, became lips that kissed my mouth. Then they melted and were gone. A dying doll, larger than life, walked mechanically in a weird gray wasteland.”

Scott’s investigative methods are unorthodox as are the tools of his trade. He brings to a stakeout “a pair of binoculars; without my .38 but with a monster bar magnet strapped to my right wrist.” Of course, the magnet would interfere with the .38’s functionality. This plain goofiness of pulling slick tricks out of his bag like Felix the Cat is also designed to grab a good laugh. The silly situations Scott gets himself into are remindful of the high jinks played out by Joe R. Lansdale’s unlikely good guy duo, Leonard Pine and Hap Collins.

Bumbling along in his murder investigations, Shell spliced together the disparate clues by applying his own convoluted logic. This is typical PI fare for certain, but I doubt if any detective took as much fun doing it as Scott Shell did. Or as much fun in telling us about it.

NOTE: This piece appeared somewhere online that has long since disappeared. So, I decided to dig it out and run again in my blog. Enjoy.

How Long to Wait Between Reading the Same Author's Books?

As a reader, I like to try and space out my reading the different books written by the same author. I have read in occasional streaks like I did with the classis crime fiction writers David Goodis, Charles Willeford, and Charles Williams in the past. Even so, I still didn't get to everything they produced which is good. That way I can still enjoy reading more of their work for the first time. If I give myself a break, I feel as if I don't "overdose" on a favorite author. Or maybe keeping the variety is important in my leisure, for-the-fun-of-it reading time. I have read the fiction output of such crime writers as Stephen Greenleaf, Ed Lacy, and Dennis Lynds (Michael Collins, creator of the P.I. Dan Fortune series) for author profiles I once did. It was interesting to see how their excellent writing evolved over time in their professional careers. At one time, prolific authors seemed to bring out a new book every year, and that was the accepted norm. Now in the age of instant publication of a few mouse clicks, the books are released at a faster clip. Maybe the readers still like to adhere to the yearly cycle of reading their favorite authors. That probably works out the best for my reading schedule. Happy reading during your holidays.

RIP: Film Noir Star Audrey Totter

I sadly heard film noir star Audrey Totter has passed away at the very respectable age of 95. I loved watching her in "The Set-Up" with Robert Ryan who played a washed up boxer. She is reluctant stay with him because he won't quit his dangerous sport. She has to decide if she walks out on him or sticks with him. I recently saw her as the femme fatale in "Alias Nick Beal" where Ray Milland plays the devil buying a man's soul. The acting work eventually dried up for her. "What could I play?" she said in an interview. "A nice grandmother? Boring! Critics always said I acted best with a gun in my hand." Her obit run in the LA Times is at this link: http://www.latimes.com/obituaries/la-me-passings-20131214,0,7065147.story#ixzz2nTKh1MDQ

The Books That Linger In Your Mind Even Decades Later

Those are the type of novels that I want to write! LOL. Well, if there's no way to know if I ever will write them, I can certainly read the type of novels that make a big impression on me. Of course, time will only tell if they will stick in my brain. Maybe the best way to find the memorable books I've ever read is to go back to when I was a kid just coming of reading age. But then it seems just about every book I read from those days left its mark on me. For one thing, I hadn't read very many titles, much less the difficult "adult" ones. I can recall my reading a Roy Rogers tie-in adventure book. If I reread it now, I'd find it to be another corny and simplistic cowboy tale. At any rate, it converted me into a fan of Westerns. Books standing out for me are the rare ones that cause me to cry, laugh, and shake my head in disbelief much like watching a first-rate film at the cinema. All of the emotions are engaged. That is a cool exerience. I better get back to my trying to write the memorable book. Meantime happy reading throughout your holidays.

Just Another Day in the Life of a Crime Fiction Writer

 This past week we got hit by an ice storm as did much of the nation. The falling tree branches snapped the electric lines, and our power went out for a few hours. So, I called over to our local branch of the public library and was told they had power. I packed up all my stuff and schlepped over to the library. I was fortunate enough to find the last workspace with an electrical outlet. I set up my laptop and commenced to work again on my next P.I. Frank Johnson title, AFTER THE BIG NOISE. Public school had also been cancelled for the day, and the parents who didn't take their kids off to the shopping mall instead decided to go to the library. Unfortunately, I had not anticipated this development. Seated directly behind me was a gruff-voiced father reading the children's nursery rhyme "Fuzzy Wuzzy" to his pre-schooler. Then he decided it would be a good idea to teach his pre-schooler how to read it. Of course, this activity took many readings of "Fuzzy Wuzzy." I didn't say anything, just gritted my teeth and continued working. Then I got to chuckling to myself. Hey, it wasn't really so bad, and the poem was sort of catchy. Pretty soon, I got an email from my wife that our electric power was back on, so I returned home, and everything was fine.

The New Front Cover To My Debut Novel

I have replaced the front cover art on my debut novel, THE DIRT-BROWN DERBY. I can't believe it has almost been 10 years ago since it appeared. P.I. Frank Johnson has been the central character in much of my fiction writing. Right now I'm editing his next adventure, AFTER THE BIG NOISE. Stay tuned for further details.

Things You Don't See Much Anymore: Fallout Shelter Signs

There was a time when seeing these distinctive signs was a commonplace event. I remember seeing them quite often, especially while I still lived in the Washington, D.C. suburbs. Maybe D.C. had more fallout shelters since it is the U.S. capital. I guess the adults took the signs seriously because they always told me with a straight face that we'd be going into one if the atomic bomb was lowered on us. Or Red Russia sent the first sortie of intercontinental ballistic missiles at the U.S. I still can imagine us surviving underground in musty, dim basements until the all-clear signal is given. Thinking back, I wonder if it would have even been possible. I can't remember when the last time and place was when I saw a last fallout shelter sign. Perhaps it was a faded, scarred relic like this sign pictured in Wikipedia.

Tuesday's Forgotten Films: The Glass Web Starring Edward G. Robinson

I enjoyed watching this 1953 film noir for several reasons. Edward G. Robinson turns in his usual sturdy performance. John Forsythe (the voice of the unseen Charlie in Charlie's Angels TV series two decades later) also does a creditable job. Finally, the setting is the early TV industry which I found intriguing. Forsythe plays a TV script writer producing shows for a realistic weekly crime program (Dragnet?). Robinson plays the conniving rsearcher who has a secret ambition to become the show's writer. Both men have an affair with the ruthless, ambitious femme fatale played by Kathleen Hughes who is a actress/model. I won't go further into the plot, just to say Robinson and Forsythe are pitted against each other. I see where this movie used the 3D technology which may have enhanced its viewing experience. The Glass Web skewers the upstart small screen thing known as television which was regarded as a direct competitor to the movie industry. There are some nice touches such as Hughes' clever cat in her apartment. IMDb.com gives The Glass Web 6.4/10.0 which I think is too low. I'd go with a solid 7.0 based on Robinson's performance which I always like to watch.

•

When Reading A Book Reminds Me of My Life

I've been thinking about the reading process over the past few days. It amazes me how reading words can bring pleasure to a person. I try to understand just why that is. Have you ever been reading along and run across something in the sentences that resonates inside you and strikes a familiar chord?

Last night I was reading a short story collection thematically bound by the sport of game hunting. A scene in one of the short stories has a teenaged boy hunting squirrels in the woods. My eyes went on processing the printed words before them, but my thoughts strayed off to my own experiences while a teenaged boy doing the same activity.

I have long since given up any hunting game for the sport, preferring now to do all of my killing of living things in my crime novels. Anyway, I must have read on to the story's next paragraph, but my real attention dwelled on my hunting experiences as a kid. The short story triggered those images, and I can't say I was annoyed by my wandering from the printed page.

Part of my enjoyment in reading fiction is to find myself reminded of people and events from my own life. Usually the association only lasts momentarily and I can move on to the next part. Anyway, I went on and finished reading the short story collection, and liked it.

Reading Preferences: Short or Long Sittings?

One morning this week I knew I had to leave to run an errand, and I was currently reading the new Gail Godwin book, Flora. Since I had enjoyed reading it the night before, I was keen on my getting back to it ASAP. Being uncharacteristically diligent, I still had ten minutes before I had to blast off. But ten minutes of free time is the ten minutes I won't get back again. So, I went ahead and plunged back into my reading. I had no trouble picking up where I'd put my bookmark and left off. All too soon, it was time to go, and I put aside the novel. While I was driving away, I got to thinking about my reading habits and wondered if I preferred a lot of short sittings to finish a book or a long marathon session of reading the book from cover to cover. I decided the former is more realistic for me, but I wouldn't turn down the opportunity to spend an entire day indulging a read. Matter of fact, I can't remember the last novel that I read from start to end with no interruptions except for eating my lunch and dinner. I did put in a long stretch of reading Michael Connelly's entertaining The Gods of Guilt not long ago. At any rate, I hope your holiday reading goes well, too.

Friday's Forgotten Books: West on 66 by James H. Cobb

This review has been getting a few likes at Goodreads, so I decided to run it again.

This is a fun, peppy read first pubbed in 1999 just before the big Y2K scare. Many thanks to James Reasoner for his recommendation on his blog.

It's September 1958. L.A. Deputy Sheriff Kevin Pulaski (who's spent 4 years in the hellhole called Korea) goes to Chicago on R&R to reconnect with his brother.

Instead our hero hooks up with a Mobster's daughter, and their high-octane, on-the-road caper kicks off. Lisette ISO a slug of dad's money hidden somewhere. This familiar storyline pretty much takes place on the historic Route 66 (all now a tourist by-way).

Assets (ak.a. why I enjoyed WEST ON 66): Snappy prose. Old school romance (Pulaski calls his girlfriend "The Princess". Cute.). Lots of chase scenes. Unexpected plot twists. First-rate settings on Route 66.

Deck The Homes With Boughs Of Electric Lights

Every year about this time, I like to begin looking for the neighbors' homes decorated with their electric Christmas lights. If there is time, we drive around the streets and check out the colorful displays. We know which neighbors really dress up their places with the major league presentations of bright lights. Last Christmas we paid for tickets to take the walking tour of an outdoors lights festival, an intense visual experience I very much enjoyed. A bit odd considering I am more of a "word" person than I am "visual" one. I have no real idea of how expensive the electric bills are when the power company's tab comes due. Maybe you know. I even believe I saw an ad run on cable TV about a reality TV show centered on decorating homes for Christmas. That competition might be carrying things a little too far. My favorite color for the Christmas lights has to be the calm blue lights I see hung out. Not all is good, however. I read a news piece on a house fire blamed on the faulty wires to the Christmas lights strung up.

Here is the link to the news report along with the safety tips:
http://www.wrcbtv.com/story/24105304/...

Authors Repeating Themselves in Their Books

The topic of authors (like me) repeating themselves while writing their books has been on my mind since I'm revising my next private eye novel. It is part of a series, so the chances of repetition are even greater. This applies to the novel's dialogue, settings, plot devices, and other such things. I read where Sue Grafton keeps thick notebooks of recorded details and information, so she can maintain a freshness to her Alphabet Letter series. Readers running across instances of repetition are probably left with the impression the author is being lazy or careless in the book. Perhaps it is due to the manuscript not receiving the attention it requires during the revision stage. I know I catch different problems (including repetitions) with multiple readings of my long fiction. Even within the same novel, the repetition of phrases or expressions drives readers to distraction. I used to run a program that counted up the number of times each word was used in my manuscript, and that was helpful as well as an eye-opener. I should dig out the program from where it resides on an old computer.

Wave of the Future: Amazon Is Testing Delivery Drones

Have you heard of the delivery drones that Amazon has in the testing stage? They buzz through the air guided by GPS to land and drop off the deliveries right on the customers' doorsteps. I saw the news segment last night on 60 Minutes, and it is real George Jetson stuff. Jeff Bezos is pretty excited by his company's unique invention. "It will work, and it will happen, and it's gonna be a lot of fun," he told 60 Minutes. I found it to be amazing, but I wondered how the human factor might play into it. For instance, suppose a prankster decides to vandalize the drone while it is on the ground making its delivery? It won't be returning to home base. How can every company wanting to use their own dedicated fleet of drones making their lightweight deliveries be controlled? The airspace will be filled with the grasshopper-like contraptions buzzing around everywhere. I guess all the bugs, pardon the pun, will have to be worked out first.

Here's the link to one story in the Chicago Tribune:

http://www.chicagotribune.com/busines...