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Maturation, growth, learned response, trial (trail too) and error, experience, advanced degrees, graduation and the ‘Pomp and Circumstance’ march (a nephew’s college graduation in this huge stadium didn’t play the march and I’m still devastated); all aforementioned words mean getting older (I never say old; what a ridiculous word. Mountains in Sedona, red and wise, have been around hundreds of millions of years. Perhaps that’s old) If universe time really means nothing(inconsequential), then is our design off a bit; that switch kick starts after our first high cholesterol meal?(breast milk) On the positive side of morning thought, I’ve got a handle. Air is thin; snow on peaks, no birds or planes with a white fluffy tail and my vaporous breath. I am alone in thought. Is this selflessness or selfishness?

            I spoke to a friend on Facebook this morning (funny he’s 21, and I have no idea how, why and where. But we are.) He admitted something profound to me (I need to save his words. He knows everything at 21 until one morning he woke up and realized that he knew nothing and asked my advice) Bitter air on the mountain top slaps my face. I think about knowing everything. A 21 year old asked me advice. Time is no longer infinite. When I was 21, I had all the time in the world, according to one of my favorite characters, innocent Philby, from ‘The Time Machine.’  With whatever time left, don’t you want to spend it with people who care, are real, with no mendacity. “Free at last” reverberates.  As I make a right hand turn down a one-way street, seeing the narrow black and white sign, I realize that with my age, I never want to make a turn down a one-way street again; a ‘for the rest of your life’ navigational decision sealed on the mountain top. And I get chance to be alone on certain holidays. And this theme means a lot to me. Perseveration city. Now rest.

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             Like so many I watched President Obama sign the health reform on Tuesday at 11:23am. No matter how this gets sliced in the cold cuts slicer (you know, salami, turkey, pot roast, chicken) this was a bold and historic, long overdue (Teddy Roosevelt tried) move. Since my independence as a voter(trying to avoid rice fields of Southeast Asia) I’m always amazed owing to the sophistication and maturity of our planetary evolution, how only Democrats were there at the signing just like Republicans fail to applaud during the President’s State of the Union.(one hell of a line down the middle of room). Human nature.

            Thirty years ago I became an eyeglass salesman (and eventually a regional manager, travelling chunks of geography).You meet a lot of people on the way up before the fall down. Ed Norton said something similar to Ralph. Thinking about health reform, the pursuit of happiness, knowledge and truth (American way, Clark Kent) I did a little introspective tip toe thru optical tulips these last few days, instead of doing a liter of chilled prune juice. Yes, the purging of decades of thought. Thought is the key word, with all its permutations, meanings and shortcomings. Reasoning I must be one of a rarified breed of optical industry persona to have a written novel, going as far as graphically extolling the virtues of independent Eye Care professionals(in my early Bolshevik(not really now, just teasing) days as a Pharmacist, I did participate rather actively in the formation of one of the first professional unions, to protect the rights of independent Pharmacists). Now, going through colonic digestion process, I would’ve thought(there’s the word again) that legions of Eye Care professionals would be curious, possessed of rugged individualistic thought, like why Howard Stern gets all those listeners; they just wanted to hear(see) what he had to say.

            One makes friends and influences people in a thirty year career, especially if one travels all over the country. In December, friends helped me by writing in their newsletters  sent to over 11,000 pairs of optical industry eyes that Calvin Schwartz (optical sales rep) had his first novel, ‘Vichy Water’ published. The pursuit of knowledge. Broadening horizons. Cerebral thirst.  Human nature. Life’s first strategy.

            On Saturday and Sunday past, I attended for the 30th time Vision Expo at the Javits Center in New York City. A few things for the diary. A strange foreigner approached; he knew me from years ago and would I like to invest with him in medical marijuana dispensaries when it’s legal in New Jersey. Confessional; visions of fast food Marijuana drive thru, fish sandwiches, pipes and paper and Bora Bora. The other diary entry. I bumped into an optical journalist who knew I wrote a novel.  The pursuit of knowledge. Broadening horizons. Cerebral thirst. Human nature. And the number zero on his credentials. Life’s first strategy for a member of the fourth estate.

            What does this all mean to a novelist? Novel number three solidified. A futuristic journey with Dorothy and Toto(I’ve since fallen in love with the breed, Cairn Terrier) When all pursuit goes, what kind of erector set do we give the kids at holiday time? What they deserve. Thanks, George.

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        So the health reform passed. Years ago, I took a week long seminar as part of my sales management training. Subject of the seminar: Change and how to deal with it. Actually, I did well in the ‘test’ they gave us at the end of the week; scored the highest grade ever given by instructor (it’s saved underneath a mock Academy Award I got for sneaking on the set of a Meryl Streep movie, filmed in Maplewood(cover of my novel) and getting in the movie. I was the biggest thing in that scene; Madison Square Garden mustard stained sweater and a US Open cap circa 1997 which I was alert enough to stuff in my back pocket. It was a period scene from 1988.) No one earthbound, sharing chromosomal make-up likes change. Avoiding any political diatribe, health reform is accepted as change; the river flows from the mountain top, melting snows (thank goodness we still have snow to melt and give us bottled water) fuel the gravitational flow. I told my nephew on Facebook a few moments ago, who’s upset about half the American population being upset, that Life’s First Strategy is “you either get it or you don’t.” And those 7 words took me four decades to accept, rationalize, digest, absorb and wear comfortably like those warm winter boots you don’t need socks for, which I let my wife give me as a gift and I love them now. Human nature is a fifty percent thing. Half always get it. Republicans or Democrats. And nothing will change that. Change fails to change the percentile.

            When they write history books on all this, my fellow Americans, these will be the good old days. We’ll clench our fists and twitch our noses to get back to March 23, 2010. Bette Davis said in a classic movie scene, “It’s going to be a bumpy night”(or something like that). It’s going to be a bumpy couple of decades, so for today and through 2014 and final implementation of health reform; these ARE the best of times.

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The sun peaked over mountainless central Jersey skies a few moments ago. It was a good night. Confronted some 25 year demons. And I’m always looking for opportunites to say, “free at last, free at last.” I do think about Dr. King a lot; just read my novel. So I feel a weight uncarried this morning, like everything is right in the small confines of a cluttered office. I’d never ever say things are right with the world–a credibilty assasination if I did. A cluttered office is a beautiful thing. Paul Revere made his famous ride in part to preserve the self expression of a cluttered office. I heard about the government this morning working to make sure all Americans have access to broadband fast internet, the way of the health diagnostic future. Atlantic blue fin tuna and other marine life  in the world’s overfished oceans are subject today of UN conference in Qatar. Throughout my novel, I talked about tuna becoming extinct and a small regionalized war over that last catch. Start your hoarding. And in response to enough questions on how novel ‘Vichy Water’ was born, here’s an excerpt of an interview I did with Norm Goldman.

Norm:

How did you decide you were ready to write Vichy Water?

Calvin:

Four years ago, almost to this day in March, I was supposed to play tennis but it was raining. No tennis. I had all this energy and no where to go.  I’m quite spiritual and things have been popping into my head for a long time. Some of these things are quite random but I’ve learned over the years to “go with the flow.”

So, “something”(this has come to be one of my favorite words, hard to define, it keeps changing intent) said to watch Casablanca, which I’ve seen 44 times. I watched it again. Then, the last scene when Bogart(Rick) shoots German Major Strasser(Conrad Veidt, a wonderful character actor) “Round up the usual suspects.”

Claude Rains(Louis) wants to celebrate the death of Major Strasser, so he picks up a bottle of ‘Vichy Water’, opens it and is about to pour, when he realizes anything “Vichy” was connotative of the collaborationist French regime, so he drops the bottle into a steel garbage can(like what I used in high school). The moment the bottle hit, I let out a blood curdling scream, “oh my God.”

My wife thought I was having the big one like Fred Sanford. I yelled down to her, “There’s a novel that just came into my head.” ‘Vichy Water’ was ALL there in that second. And because I’m so spiritual, I knew it had to be done (my first novel). I went downstairs and spent two weeks outlining. Here’s where this gets hauntingly eerie. Four years later, when I finished the design for the cover, I discovered (with all kinds of hard copy, witnessed proof) who  put this “something” into my thought: my Grandfather who passed in 1937.

I never knew him. Sure, this all sounds a bit out there. I’m quick to mention to those with raised eyebrows, that I’m quite well-rounded, after all I go to 50 Rutgers University sporting events a season, play beer pong and go to environmental seminars. One other thing, all this Grandfather stuff is haunting; it eventually becomes book #4. More later.

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       I love walking around the kitchen looking for ‘verboten’ snacks. You’d think after 3 decades, I’d know all the hiding places. But I don’t. Found these wonderful mint chocolate cookies with ‘weight’ prominently on box. They were bite size, wrapped individually(interesting marketing ploy) and an easy 3 in 3 minutes. Then I turned the box around; I woofed and chewed my way through 210 calories(more than I wanted to spend) The good news for my blog readers; the three minute interval gave me time to think. I’ve already posted this on Facebook. Here goes. Damn, my novel, ‘Vichy Water’ touches on current events and life style– hauntingly so. There’s a graphic scene dealing with auto companies holding back recalls(in the news every day) and drug companies knowing about bad side effects with silence(a diabetic drug last week was found to increase heart attacks 43% but in silence), health insurance companies(protests going on daily and President Obama addressing issue and I’m even battling now with one). The novel also glibly deals with tuna fish becoming extinct. The United States just announced we’re going to support a ban on fishing for Atlantic blue fin tuna. Why? Of course, we realize extinction is around the corner. HBO(Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks) are coming out with a series on March 14th called “The Pacific” dealing with World War II in the Pacific. ‘Vichy Water’ takes a character to Guadalcanal (important battle of war) to pay respects to those soldiers.  President Obama gave a speech in Egypt on June 4, 2009 stating how America will look to the Muslim world with respect and understanding. Vichy Water did just that with a main character( part Muslim) Nostradamus? Me?  No, but typing fingers and long cerebral telomeres have touched on a special pulse and I can’t help but wonder(and worry) what else from ‘Vichy Water’ appears in a similar crystal ball, visually like Margaret Hamilton’s in her castle before melting, melting.

            In a line borrowed from the movie “Mr. Roberts,” “So what’s all this crap about no movies tonight?” I miss Jack Lemmon, Walter Matthau and Henry Fonda. “What’s all this crap about New Jersey Mayors?” There’s bad press about mayors here in the Garden State(we don’t have a lot of gardens; too many pot-hole roads, factories(small), smoke stacks. Take the hour-long Jersey Transit coast train from Matawan to NYC Penn Station. Seven hundred and forty four smoke stacks). You read and hear about ‘bad’ mayors like a “Bad Santa.” I know the former mayor of my town took bribes from developers (prison, parole?). The mayor of Hoboken, just after getting elected, now gone with the northeast wind. And so forth. But so much of that is far removed, never involving me personally so you naturally go through denial. Recently I attended an environmental conference. At the end of day, by a coat rack, I met the mayor of a small, mostly summer Jersey shore town. I exuberantly told him that I wrote a novel, “Vichy Water” that has a love-affair with his town. Many important things in the novel take place in his town (I was probably conceived there as well and I told him) Taking a deep breath, I talked about a dream of seeing a Hollywood film crew at a jetty which borders his town. He said, “I’d love to read it.” I said, handing him my business card with novel website, “You can order it on-line.” There was dead silence for 5 long seconds; his hand retracted almost symbolically or reflexively. He wanted a hand-out; a free novel. He doesn’t have to pay.  He’s the mayor. “So what’s all this crap about New Jersey mayors?”

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