McCauley's "Prohibition" serves up an enjoyable ride

In Archie Doyle's 1930's New York, prohibition is just a word when Archie ran the town.  The money from his less than legal enterprises were flowing as plentifully as the illegal hooch he served up to thirsty customers in his many gambling halls and speak easies.  No one challenged that authority.  Especially not the slimy mayor in Archie's pocket.  But that's changing.  Much more dangerous than the crooked cops on Doyle's payroll paid to look the other way, there's a new dangerous competition in town...and they're gunning for Archie and threatening the empire he's spent decades building.

With Archie's right hand man shot up by an unknown gunman and out of commission, it's now up to Terry Quinn, Doyle's key enforcer and a very likable, loyal, but lethal, badass, to figure out the who the threat is and efficiently eliminate it before things get out of hand.  But as the ground gets shakier,  the stakes escalate with each spray of bullets, blood and dropping bodies.  As one mystery is solved, more questions are unearthed, leaving Quinn racing against the clock.  Soon, the entire city is embroiled in a turf war where it's hard to tell the good guys from the bad guys and who's betraying whom.

Can Quinn, ever loyal to his boss, put a stop to it, while protecting those he loves, and still get out of it alive?

The characters are well-formed and nuanced.  They come alive, breathing, bleeding, and struggling with their inner demons as they try to stay alive and maintain their power and honor.  This book is as much about the honor among thieves and the loyalty of friendship as it is about the shoot-'em-up-bang! lifestyle.  Violent, touching, bloody, humorous, cruel, dangerously terrifying and unexpectedly sentimental at times, it wraps up a nice package of dimensionality and reflects a complete picture of the often conflicting nature of the human condition.  Neither good, nor bad, with no apologies or pretenses.  

As McCauley writes, "Quinn didn't like killing people just for the hell of it.  Murder could become an easy solution for most problems.  Murder could become a habit and habits make you sloppy.  Sloppy got you killed."

The action is fast paced and keeps your attention, flipping pages fervently to see how they will get themselves out of the most recent conundrum.  Often, the dry humor provides a nice break to particularly tense scenes, avoiding too much heaviness and darkness.  The result is a thoroughly enjoyable experience where you will find yourself alternately fearing for their safety, cheering with relief as they clear hurdles and realize victories, and seething with rage, desiring vengeance for when they are wronged!


A delightful, adventurous ride-along in old fashioned gangster style that quickly engages the reader and evokes the desire to reach right into the pages and help Quinn smack the smugness out of the guest he's interrogating.  As much as you might hate violence, you will find yourself cheering him on to "just plug the rat, already!"   You're fingers will itch to pick up a Tommy gun and join in the charge!  This, is Archie Doyle's New York.  Welcome to 1930.

For more information about the author, Terrence McCauley

http://terrencemccauley.blogspot.com

To purchase"Prohibition" by Terrence McCauley, on Amazon:

http://www.amazon.com/dp/0615743889/ref=rdr_ext_tmb

DiVoM’s Funky Jazz Gets “Underneath” Your Skin and Seeps Into Your Soul

“Underneath,” the debut recording album of David Vincent Mills’ band, DiVoM, delivers a powerful, multi-dimensional musical journey that immediately knocks the breath out of you.  Then, just as suddenly and gently, it swoops beneath and transports the listener back in time with its infectious spirit of celebration and joie de vivre.   “Junk,” as the style is affectionately referred to by Mills, is a fusion of jazz and funk – but this is anything but the traditional definition of that word.  Joining Mills on this project are veteran musicians, bassist Baba Elefante and drummer Craig Bunch.  This polished ensemble delivers a smooth, nuanced layering of each piece.  It’s virtually impossible to pick a favorite track as each has its own flavor.   Would you limit yourself to just one flavor of decadent ice cream or sample them all…again and again?

The overall sound of the album is perfect for wine drinking, philosophizing over coffee, or shaking off the blues.  The tracks are varied from upbeat tempos that get you moving to more soulful, introspective, nostalgic pieces that evoke memories or daydreams of days gone by.  There’s al little bit for everyone.  If you think you don’t like jazz, you’ve likely never heard this stuff.  It just might have you looking around for speakeasies and F.Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald.  Many of the tracks are reminiscent of the sophistication and roaring spirit of the 1920s, an old Ringling Brothers carnival vibe, along with a few contemporary twists in places that evoke a Cirque du Soliel groove, as best demonstrated on the rollicking “Mazel Bop.”

Opening track, “Stomp” had me searching for my top hat, cane and tap shoes.  “Bumpin’” and “Jabberwookiee” found me sashaying and shimmying across the living room floor, clapping my hands and snapping my fingers like the of coolest of the ‘60s cats.  “Absinthe” delivers a funky up beat, while Mills’ melodic harmonica on “Rosalyn’s Café” speaks directly to the soul before kicking into an almost dizzying jubilation.   “Answer 42,” sultry and pensive, inspires the listener to wonder if the Universal answer is, in fact, contained in the shower of stars that can be heard in the delicate tinkling of piano keys.  “T.O.E” and “Off the Cuff” offer sophistication, paired perfectly with a nice Bordeaux.   “Mr. Purple” hints at both dark and light, alternating between a  mysterious and dangerous Pink Panther vibe and an almost frenzied up tempo crescendo.  The album culminates in the dreamy title track, “Underneath,” and gently drifts up and away.

What results is an overall feel good experience that will tempt even the most morose and melancholy out of their chairs and onto the dance floor, or at the very least, across their living room or kitchen floors.  This upbeat collection unfolds more deeply with each listen.  Likely the best anti-depressant this side of Prozac, it delivers a mood lift without all the side-effects.  Once “Underneath” gets under your skin, good luck getting it out.  I’ve had it on repeat for a week….and I’m still dancing across the floor.

For more information, see www.divomtheband.com and follow the band on Facebook www.facebook.com/divomtheband

Album is available for download and hard copy CD on:

• Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/Underneath/dp/B00CI7D10Y/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1367788906&sr=8-1&keywords=divom+underneath 
• CD Baby: http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/divom

Upcoming Shows:

MIA'S LOUNGE ~ Thursday, May 16, 9:30pm
      26 S. San Francisco St. Flagstaff
OAK CREEK BREWERY ~ Friday, May 17, 7-11pm
      2050 Yavapai Dr. Sedona
INDIAN GARDENS ~ Saturday, May 18, 3-5pm
      3951 N. State Route 89A, Sedona (3 miles north of uptown)
MARTINI BAR ~ Saturday, May 18, 6:30-9:30
      1350 W, Hwy 89A, Sedona

All shows featuring DiVoM's LA Contingency from the album, Baba Elefante

~ bass, Craig Bunch ~ drums

Spring forward, duct taping the ego and other housekeeping tactics

With spring in the air, it’s again prime time for some housekeeping.   I start getting itchy and twitchy to just purge, purge, PURGE!   With a vengeance, I go thru closets, corners and cupboards searching out anything that no longer aligns to who I am now.  Items that, in the soothing darkness of winter, were sentimentally cradled with affection just a few short months ago, are now inspected with cold, calculating eyes under the bright, harsh light of day.   Onto the pile it goes.  Goodwill Industries loves me this time ofyear.

All that physical purging feels good.  It gets the blood going and clears the air, literally and figuratively.  It gives us a sense of space, a sense of breath again. Especially for those of us that have been holding our breath throughout the dark night of winter, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.  Spring gives us a chance to banish those fears, breathe deep, shake things up and look at things from new vantage points.   If we’re really brave, we’ll take it a step further to re-evaluate our inner world, sweeping those outdated emotional and belief dust bunnies out the door, right along with their physical counterparts.  If they no longer fit, no sense in having them hang around,  holding us back from new experiences.  At least, that's the plan.

Life seems too short to have anything or anyone in our life that makes us feel bad, anxious, stressed or obligated.  There’s a difference between real connections in which you can open a vein, knowing your life blood is safe mingling with that of another in the far reaches of their soul and allowing both of you to emerge better, more whole versus participating in your own, or even worse, in someone else’s orchestration of an elaborate drama dance of action/reaction that keeps everyone perched just on the edge of insecurity.   Who needs that?  Pop psychologists may call it co-dependence, attachments or addiction, but it all boils down to the same thing:  anything that does not honor the self and its inherent right to walk its own path, without sneers or judgment or anything that seeks to manipulate and win dwells in the land of ego.   That's just crap - that’s not a real connection and it’s certainly not love.  At best, it’s attachment that latches on, dragging us into negative places, at worst, an addiction.  Neither contributes anything constructive to our new Spring forward model.   Let’s toss it on the pile.

This includes the negative dance we choose to continue to do with our ego.  You know, the one that likes to beat us up and point out, in excruciating detail, specifically how we are a screw-up, stressing us out, making us sad, and knocking down ourself-esteem?   Some duct tape for the ego is in order.  If it can’t say something nice, it needs to be muzzled.   Let’s stop asking it to dance.  Seems pretty straightforward.  When did we forget howto be nice to ourselves?

Spring is a great time to let go of our unhealthy attachment to the ego’s need to stomp on our feet, along with our self-esteem.   Let’s not give anyone that opportunity, including our darker selves.  In Spring, we re-evaluate everything.  Life is full of hope and promise as we resolve to shed winder’s maudlin doldrums with a refreshed, positive outlook of new beginnings – that means a harsh look at our own lives, shining the flashlight of truth on the dust of some serious emotional cobwebs under the couch of our minds.

Let’s let Spring shine, the way it was meant to, as a time of hope, of beginnings, of building, of possibilities.  We can choose which thoughts and people we allow into our mental and physical landscape.  Do they support something positive or do they tear us down?  Do they seek to manipulate us into feeling bad to keep us under "control" or do they build us up and empower us? Do we choose to believe that life is full of possibilities or do we choose to believe that everything will end in disaster? 

What will you choose to believe?  What mental dust bunnies will you allow to remain under your couch, making you sneeze? What will you sweep out the door?

We’re all on our own journey.  We get to decide the nature and the quality of the connections we make with others and with ourselves. Will they be based in honor, for ourselves and others, or will the ego win out in its insatiable need to control or will we step off the crazy-making carousel, boarding it up as permanently “Out of Order”?  Can we give ourselves permission to just be happy and look to the future, seeking new possibilities and leaving behind the dust bunnies of anything that does not support that?  

At this time of Spring time renewal, the odds are with us.  With happy hearts, full of hope, let’s turn our backs on the limiting dust bunnies of the past and look forward, into the new possibilities.  Let’s honor those real connections, for our sakes as much as theirs, bringing our most authentic selves to them.  Sure it's scary as shit, but I promise you, it's worth it.

And if we’re really lucky (like I have been and for which I'm grateful on a daily basis), for a while, we get to walk along side of someone who happens to be heading in the same direction, to share in the sunshine.

New Experiences - 45 day checkpoint

Approximately 45 days after my birthday commitment to experiencing at least one new thing, each day, every day, for the next 365 days, I'm still at it.  Frankly, I'm a little amazed - it certainly hasn't been easy - I've only missed one day due to illness.  It's been fantastic!   Primarily, it forced me to think about things in new ways, often racking my brain to come up with that day's particular adventure.   Made me really explore possibilities in ways I've never thought of before.  There's only so many different types of foods you can try, so many different stores you can explore, so many different types of tourist attractions you can attend before you have to start thinking about new in new ways.

One of the most interesting things I'm finding is the overwhelming amount of suggestions I've gotten once folks learn of what I'm doing.  Several have even decided to try the same thing.   We're sharing our experiences as we go!    From all those great suggestions, I started a list of "things to do" - it's now several pages long.  I've learned about hidden places, activities and ideas of things I never would have thought on my own or even knew about.   A great example of that is the Japanese Friendship Garden in Phoenix (thank you, Mike Calhoun!), a Japanese facial massage, learning to play Tibetan singing bowls and seeing the rock man on along the side of I-17 on the way to Phoenix (thanks to Josh, the ever observant shuttle driver!).

I've also pushed myself to try new things.  Bellydance classes are the first thing that come to mind!  Yes, really -  envision Lucille Ball in a hip scarf and finger cymbals, but it's a ton of fun!  I'm deepening connections in several different ways:  I've discovered new places and met new people that have interesting things to share.  I'm reconnecting with people from my past in new ways and changing the way I think about and interact with the people currently in my life.   Deepening real connections and letting go of negative attachments.   Changing my relationship to my self.   Expanding my creativity into new directions (digital art!), deepening spiritually and discovering new historical things, just to name a few. 

 It's been a hell of a month and a half and I can hardly wait to see how the year will end up.

Sure, it'll be tough to keep this up for the whole year, and I might even have to allow the new experience of forgiving myself for not being perfect by missing a day here and there, but in honoring the commitment to myself to keep seeking that sense of wonder, that, in turn, reinforces a belief in possibilities, in hope, I'm learning about myself and what I'm capable of - and it's starting to make realize the infinite possibilities of discovery just around the bend.....bring it on...and stay tuned!

Do You Dare to Be Liberated?

Can you commit to experiencing something new, each day, for a year?

On the eve of my birthday this year, I made a decision - this year was going to be different.   This year, I left last year's crap behind, in  the past, where it belonged (including old patterns, old hurts and fears, old ways of thinking and in some cases, old relationships that do not help support the future that I am traveling).  I didn't need to carry it anymore.

I would focus on new paths, new ways of thinking about things, new ways of seeing the world, new ways of relating and connecting with the people I love.  To help anchor this, I threw this challenge out to myself:   "Self," I said, "I DARE you to experience something new, each day, every day.  Learn from it.  Grow. Change.  Become better.  See where you land in a year.  Do it!"  My intuition nudged my uncertain rational mind.... "it could be ....liberating....you should give it a shot...stick your toe in the water, just to see"

And so I did...literally.  New Experience #1:   Outdoor hot tub in 30 degree weather with snowflakes on the lounge chairs around me!  HOLY cow, was it cold!  At first you couldn't tell if the mist in the air was steam from the water or your breath from the cold but it didn't matter....the water was deliciously warm and the air was electrifyingly cold.   It was glorious!  It was magical!  I now totally get the the whole, "let's sit in the hot tub with champagne bottles chilling in the snow behind our heads" concept.     Note to self:  Add New Planned Experience N+1 to list:   Ouray, CO vapor caves...but that's a topic for a future post.  I liked it so much I did it, twice, though it was MUCH colder in the evening when the sun had already gone down and there were a few snow flakes flying around in the air.  Most importantly, it was liberating because I surprised myself - the old me would never have done that.   Who knew, the new me would relish in it?  It gave me a new way to see myself and think about things and that was the whole point.

I realized, as I awoke on my birthday, that I had a new experience to look forward to that day, and each day.  Nothing would be boring or stagnant or routine again - and I had control over that.  I could keep my life as interesting, enriching and rewarding as I wanted it to be with my choices - duh.   I'd guaranteed a way to shake it up and keep things interesting.  Keep myself interesting.

Yesterday's adventure was exploring places in Jerome, AZ, I'd never been before.  I had an opportunity to go into the Holy Family Catholic Church, built in 1898.   It was simultaneously simple, and ornate.  The altar statues were amazing for this small little structure.  There was definitely a sense of the sacred. The windows overlooked the same views of the distant valley and Jerome's mine pits just as they must have done 100 years ago.   I was in awe.  I saw something I'd never seen before.  I'd felt something I'd never felt before.   It gave me something new to think about, wonder about, dream about.

Every day may not be an exercise in extreme temperatures or an encounter with history.  It may just be a new restaurant I've never tried, a new dish in an old, favorite restaurant, or just a new way of seeing and appreciating someone that I've known for a long time.   Regardless, my goal this year is not to take anything for granted, to have as many adventures as possible and to see something new and interesting in each day.

Won't you join me in the challenge?  Let's compare notes and see what new, wonderous things we've learned on our respective paths at the end of 365 days..... let's get liberated from old ways of thinking!  I dare you!

Book Review: Gather at the River (G.D. Hines)

G.D Hines’ debut offering, Gather at the River, blasts out of the gate and plunges the reader immediately into the dark inner world of Kyle Hyatt’s Vietnam flashbacks and the horrors of war and the unseen still locked within his mind. At its core, it is a story about family and the lengths they will got to protect their own, no matter the cost.  Where long held beliefs are challenged and desperately clung to traditions begin to deteriorate as the line between right and wrong blurs beyond recognition. 

The Hyatts are on both sides of the law, and both sides of prosperity.   Three generations of Hyatt men and a stubborn legacy of backwoods lifestyles and attitudes are at risk as multiple plots spin towards the tale’s heart stopping conclusion, leaving each man to face his own internal and external challenges.

Kyle battles the demons in his mind and in the bottle that holds him hostage from living in the present.  His father, Aaron, believes in self-sufficiency and refuses to live in a world outside his log cabin in the woods.  Kyle’s teenage son, Gayle, is torn between his loyalty to the only life he’s known with his grandfather and the encouragement of his uncle Reese to go to college and get more out of life.  Reese, at war with his entire family for his choice of profession must balance the obligations of his badge with his family, including the bootlegging activities of his brother Erwin and the other questionable activities of the rest of his family.

Set against the harsh backdrop of a southern Alabama cypress swamp in the early 1960s, the pace never slows.   The stark reality of living off the land and its dangers, both natural and manmade predators, are described with a grit and harshness that seeks to be as honest as the characters need to be with themselves.  No apology or sugar coating is made with a graphicness that tears at one’s soul with the fierceness of a bobcat’s kill.  Inner and outer conflict wait around each corner as each of the Hyatt men must face their own duality and consider new ways of approaching their worlds if they are to survive.   But the clock is ticking and a murderer and a rapist is on the loose, putting at risk everything they each hold dear. 

Gather At the River is an exceptionally well written, hold onto your hat and watch out for gators tale of revenge, of justice, of honor, of redemption.   Hines ensnares the reader from the first paragraph and does not release his grip until the very end.   A wild ride, it is a brilliant mix of grisly brutality and poignant hopefulness, always compelling the reader to see what dark dangers lurk around the next corner.   So engaging, I found myself cheering for their victories and wishing they could hear my screams of warning as I could see the next danger coming before they did.

Available on Amazon:

http://www.amazon.com/Gather-at-the-River-ebook/dp/B005DSAPLI/ref=sr_1_12?ie=UTF8&qid=1360544276&sr=8-12&keywords=gather+at+the+river

The Non-Monogamous Nature of Socks

I’ve determined my socks have serious commitment issues.   They just won’t stay together.   This got me thinking about why that is.   Sure, when they’re brand new, they look so happy together in their crisp package, lying side by side, bright and full of promise of many happy miles together.   But after a few times around the block, a few spins thru the wringer and some tumbles, both high and low, pretty soon, one of them is no where to be found.  Its abandoned partner lies hopefully to the side while the laundry is sorted and folded, hoping that somewhere in the pile its elusive mate will surface.  But after the last shirt is folded and even the dishtowels are neatly paired up with their matching washcloths, all that remains are a few mismatched socks, forlorn, at the bottom of the basket. 

 Like the Island of Misfit Toys, the Mismatched seek solace with their abandoned kindred.  Even a left-behind pink footie can find solidarity with an equally abandoned purple one on occasion, though typically only acceptable in the dark.  Unless the owner is too hung over to care or liberal-minded enough to make a statement and dares to wear them in the light of day… GASP!  together!  Meanwhile, their more footloose former companions are sometimes found hiding under the bed, behind dressers, or even behind the front door.   Clear evidence of their desperate attempts to escape.   The most rebellious sometime find shelter in an interior pocket of a gym bag or buried in the underwear drawer where no self-respecting sport crew should ever be caught. 

Maybe they just like the rush of the constant spinning of the dryer and wedge themselves inside the drum to cycle round and round and round till they grow tired and eventually re-surface.    It’s hard to tell what motivates them.   It doesn’t seem to matter whether they are classic white cotton, or high end wool, they all do it.  But is this really infidelity or simply an adherence to a more basic nature?   Can we fault them for a desire for more?  For the different? For the exotic?  Hardly.  


Are we no different? Do we not bury our true natures behind forced, companionable smiles, but inside, really think:  I wish I was a sock…..oh, the liberation I would have THEN!?   But we are not happy for long.  Maybe that’s what differentiates us – our need for the perpetual search to be joined with a soul mate vs. their perpetual searching for more, more, more….alone.

This leads me to only one conclusion - there are no sole mates in the Footwear Kingdom.   Think I’ll stick with flip-flops and avoid the issue entirely.  I’m glad I’m not a sock.  Aren’t you?