Wednesday, December 30, 2015



Since I write on a variety of subjects, I’ve decided to reapportion my blog into several sectors; REARM AMERICA — WRITING/PUBLISHING — OZONE THERAPY — INVENTIONS — and occasional a RAVE/RANT

WRITING/PUBLISHING — One day, a long time ago, I bought an old MACK dump truck at an auction. The truck was over thirty years old and had been used hard. It was still running and functioning. My task for the truck was simple yet it needed to work everyday for a couple of hours in the feedlot I’d purchased. I was impressed by its performance. That was the operative word. PERFORMANCE! Part of the manufacturers motto. Riveted on the inside of the driver-side door, it had the logo — the stylized bulldog, and just below was their promotional motto, PERFORMANCE COUNTS!

I adopted (lifted) that motto and applied it to every endeavor in my life. When I managed sales forces, it was our battle cry. When I owned factories, it was our daily theme.

While writing, PERFORMANCE COUNTS became my personal creed. I typed it on a sticker and placed it on the lid of my old typewriter. No one was going to create a news story, feature article or novel for me. I had to develop the discipline to write the words and string them together in sentences, then paragraphs, and eventually chapters. It must have worked. In addition to all the newspaper stories, magazine articles, and short stories I generated over my journalism career, I have published fourteen books and have authored six original screenplays.

Am I proud of my achievements? Not necessarily; um, ahhh, yeah, somewhat… Satisfied? Hardly. I have two other novels in the bowels of my laptop and one more sitting at my editor's desk.

Each unit began with an idea, converted to an outline, and then the first character was typed. The writing has to take on a life of it’s own, so one has to maintain a discipline to put down a few words each day. I usually have two or three novels at different stages of completion.

Every author is approached by someone who had a life changing event or an idea. They all want to TELL you the idea - co-author the outline, and then have you, the author, write the story or novel. It’s misguided from the start. Any professional will turn them down in a heartbeat. It’s like ghostwriting only worse. It usually hurts their feeling but that can’t be helped. I try to encourage them to write the story themselves. Hmmmmm, I wonder why it never happened?  PERFORMANCE COUNTS!

OZONE THERAPY — The various business models I’ve employed to get ozone therapy to the masses have failed. Perhaps it’s the selection of my operators. Perhaps the overall plan. Whatever --it has to change. I have several hundred thousand dollars tied up in the engineering and inventory. If I don’t see some advancement soon, I will sell out. At my age, that seems the most prudent option. However, my dream of getting ozone therapy to the masses will have failed; only the middle class and rich will have access to this revolutionary healing process. The Germans and Chinese have made overtures. Perhaps I need to see if they are willing to put out the cash. Vamos a ver — PERFORMANCE COUNTS!

INVENTIONS — Most of my friends and fans know about the two inventions in the Ozone industry. I’ll not bore you with repetition. However, I have modified my ozone breathing apparatus so it replaces the direct injections in most cases.

My air extractor is still at an engineering facility in Cebu City. I expect the prototype drawings to reach the machine shop in early February.

My latest project is very self serving… not an invention — just a contraption to acquire better Internet signal. It’s more of a ‘McGiver’ fix to a nagging condition.

REARM AMERICA — Pack the heat but use your vote.


The Philippines represents a country of craftsmen. Everything that is natural to the islands gets recycled into something. The old fashioned methods of palm leaf weaving, bamboo structures, native wood/bamboo furniture, and clay pottery, just to name a few crafts located close to where I live. For this I’m thankful.


Crap on a crowbar! My passport says I’m 74 years old today.

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