Showing posts with label Books and Reviews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Books and Reviews. Show all posts

Saturday, May 28, 2016

Book Review - “Trucking Life”

The full name of the book is  “Trucking Life: An Entertaining, Yet Informative Guide to Becoming and Being a Trucker” originally written by Todd McCann in 2008 and updated in 2014 and again prior to publishng.


If you are considering a truck driving career and looking for information, I highly recommend this book for you. The ebook is available for $8.99 on Amazon, iBooks, Barnes & Noble, or anywhere else you find ebooks.


It is 208 pages packed with information written in an easy to read and entertaining format. Trucking Life was written for people interested in becoming truck drivers, but it was also designed for those who just have a passing interest in truckers and their lifestyle.


I’ve been driving for about 35 years and found it entertaining enough to read all the way through, so you don’t have to be a “newbie” to enjoy it.


If you are just thinking about getting into the industry, there is a lot of information out there for you to explore thanks to the internet. However, not all you read on the internet is true, so be wary of hidden agendas. Todd is a straight shooter and gives you the unbiased facts. I highly stress that you do your homework first before you jump into this lifestyle. It’s not for everybody, but for some, it’s a career that you can thrive in and make good money if you figure it out. With the exception of my first year “learning” the business and hauling around “piggyback” containers, I’ve always made pretty decent money and am in a pretty good place as I am now closing in on retirement. You’re not going to make top dollar right away, you have to demonstrate your ability for a while through safe driving and maintaining a good work record.


One of the big things Todd cautions new drivers about is resisting any temptation to buy a truck and set out on your own. I am in complete agreement with him. The reasons he gives in the book are accurate, I’ve seen way too many drivers go into it and ruin their financial life going broke. There are successful Owner Operators out there, but you have to know what you’re doing and be skilled in the fundamentals of running a business and bookkeeping practices. As you are first experiencing and learning the trucking industry, it is definitely not the time to take the huge financial risk. Trucking companies have a great need for company drivers and the good ones offer a valuable benefits package, good pay, paid vacations and retirement plans. You're on your own if you buy a truck, beware! When the wheels aren't turning, your fixed expenses don't stop.


Todd and his wife started driving in 1997 and the book contains many entertaining stories of their experiences. I started driving in 1980 and wrote a seven part series in this blog about my experiences becoming a truck driver. You can link to Part I here: http://dbridgerhot.blogspot.com/2012/03/deciding-on-trucking-career.html  
It’s fun to compare the differences and similarities of the two time periods that are about 17 years apart.

Todd has  been doing some great work, he has more good stuff and links at his website: http://abouttruckdriving.com/ 
Enjoy!



Wednesday, May 27, 2015

Book Review - The Mafia in Milwaukee: Murder in the Heartland

I purchased this book several weeks ago authored by Gavin Schmitt and here is my review.


After learning many years ago that some of the people I dealt with back in Milwaukee in the 1970’s were mob “connected”, I’ve spent a lot of time over the past many years trying to learn about the history of the Italian mob in Milwaukee.


Gavin Schmitt has spent decades researching the history and has been a valuable resource in my own education. After learning that his second book had been published, I immediately ordered a copy and finished reading it this week.


The book covers in great detail the events from the early 1900’s up until Frank P. Balistrieri was anointed the head of the Milwaukee mob in 1961. There is a chapter on John Alioto, Balistrieri’s father-in-law who was the boss preceding Frank from 1952 to 1961. If you grew up in Milwaukee, you will read many familiar names from back in the day, it’s a very well researched book that provides a lot of detail and little known historical facts.


As written in the book’s description on Amazon:
"From the time Vito Guardalabene arrived from Italy in the early 1900s, until the days the Mob controlled the Teamsters union, Milwaukee was a city of murder and mayhem. Gavin Schmitt relies on previously unseen police reports, FBI investigative notes, coroner's records, newspaper articles, family lore and more to bring to light an era of Milwaukee's history that has been largely undocumented and shrouded in myth. No stone is left unturned, no body is left buried."


"Milwaukee's Sicilian underworld is something few people speak about in polite company, and even fewer people speak about with any authority. Everyone in Milwaukee has a friend of a friend who knows something, but they only have one piece of a giant puzzle. The secret society known as the Milwaukee Mafia has done an excellent job of keeping its murders, members and mishaps out of books. Until now."


There is a lot of investigative detail in the book, names, addresses, dates and times. I found it easy to picture the locations in my mind as I was familiar with a lot of the areas  and locations mentioned. The murders of John Di’Trapani and Jack Enea are covered in detail.


All in all, this is a good book for people interested in Milwaukee Mob History and I highly recommend it. Just be aware, the book only covers the time period up until 1961, when Balistrieri took power. I’m hoping that Gavin will look to publish another book covering the Balistrieri years up until the present!
Also, Gavin has another book titled “Milwaukee Mafia (Images of America) consisting of about 125 pages of fascinating photos and captions of the early mob days in beer town. Click this Link for a previous post that I wrote about it.




Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Every Day a Holiday, Every Meal a Feast - Free Chapter!

11/11/2014 Today is Veteran's Day. This is a re-post from 8/15/2012 about a relative of mine who put his life on the line for our country during President Reagan's years in the 1980's. He wrote an excellent 400 page book about his experiences, of which you can read a free chapter below. It's a great read and I had a hard time putting it down! Enjoy:
 
True experiences of a boy from Wisconsin growing up and becoming a US Marine during the Reagan years of the 80's. Chapter 104 is posted below. Enjoy! Author is Edward "Jack" Dinse. Previously posted. Now, Amazon Prime readers can read the entire book for free, also instant Kindle purchase available.

#104  Thank You Louis L’Amour
We went to Marine Corps Base, 29 Palms for live fire training that would culminate in a CAX, (Combined Arms Exercise). But before that, we had to complete several training cycles on a platoon and company level. Being in Headquarters Platoon, meant that we mainly went through the company portions. This gave us enlisted men more downtime. That gave Captain Thompson ideas about how to use us in other roles. Since I had been through sniper training, he thought that would be a good time to practice my craft. There was no specific course set up for this, so he came up with his own plan. I would be dropped off at the base of one of the hills that looked like giant Hershey’s Kisses near Lavik Lake. I would make my way to the top with my rifle, web-gear, binoculars and a radio to act as a lookout. How this was to hone my skills as a sniper is anybody’s guess, but this was the plan and I was to be ready before first light. Actually, I was to be in place by first light, the jeep that would take me there was due to leave Tent City an hour before! I checked my gear and filled canteens the evening before. I even borrowed two extra canteens for the day. I hit the rack early knowing the new day was starting early!
I signed out my rifle from the Armorer and a radio from the Communications Chief just before getting in the jeep the next morning. Neither of these Marines were happy to get up extra early just to sign out my gear and I heard about it from them! I shrugged my shoulders and told them it was the Captain’s idea. I checked the radio and even took an extra battery because I knew that the one in the radio never lasts very long. I had two MRE meals in my backpack along with the extra battery, a small camo net and the binos. I had the company radio frequencies, the emergency frequency and a map of the area stowed in my cover. I was good to go when I got into the passenger seat of the jeep. The ride was uneventful all the way out to my post. It was a long way from Tent City, through several training areas, and at least twenty miles on the trails. This was my first trip to 29 Palms, but I had been out to Lavic Lake three times so far driving the blade tank. I had even bulldozed a couple of tank positions just below the hill I was to watch from. Because of this, I thought nothing of being left alone for most of the day. I was to be picked up at around 1500 Hours by a jeep sent from Headquarters. I started climbing as the jeep driver turned the jeep around and then watched as it disappeared into the darkness.
I made my way to the top mostly by feel, hoping the whole time that I did not encounter a sidewinder or a scorpion! I did not think that a sidewinder would slither up a rock pile, but the scorpions seemed to be all over if you looked hard enough for them! I made it to the top in one piece and set myself up just below the peak, where I could still see all around the mound. I moved some rocks around to make a small hole to sit in. Then I took the camo net and spread it over the top, holding the corners in place with rocks. It would blend in from the air and at a distance while providing me some shade. All I had to worry about was the wind making it ripple, so I dropped some small rocks in the slack parts to keep it taunt. I set up the radio next, trying to make the antenna jut out at an angle instead of straight up, which is a dead give away to anyone looking for an antenna! I called the company HQ to let them know that I was in place and asked for a radio check. I got a garbled reply, but I understood enough to know that I was breaking up to them also. There was a ridgeline of the Chocolate Mountains between us, so I assumed that was my problem. But since there would be three of our platoons training today, I was sure I could relay any message through one of them. As I sat back and enjoyed the sunrise, I wished that I had brought my camera, even though it was no picnic carrying the radio and pack up the hill!
I may have enjoyed the sunrise, but by 1000 Hours it was hot! After all, this was the Mojave Desert and it was the summer! I watched all morning and saw nothing. Once I thought that I saw dust and diesel smoke through the binoculars, but it was much closer to Tent City than it was to me so I had to assume that it was one of our platoons. Around Noon, I heard jet engines. Four A-4s flew past my perch and dropped their ordinance on Lavic Lake. One passed close enough to where I sat that I could see the insignia of VMFA-214: the Blacksheep Squadron. At first I thought it was great, they had dropped their 500 lb bombs just below me. Then I wondered if Captain Thompson had cleared my being there through the base Training Coordinator! If he didn’t, that meant that I was part of an impact area! Shit! But for now these pilots were bombing from about the same altitude or lower than I was at. I decided to get on the horn and report the activity, maybe it would get someone’s attention if I was not supposed to be here! I keyed the mike and tried to raise headquarters. Nothing. I tried 2nd Platoon’s frequency with the same results. I turned the squelch down and realized that the battery was dead. No problem, that is why I hauled that other heavy battery all the way up here in my backpack. Ten minutes later I had the batteries swapped out and found that the “new” battery was dead too! This was really nice! What in the hell was I supposed to do now, send up smoke signals? I was up a creek without a paddle! Okay, I was up a hill without a radio – same thing. The new battery had still been in its’ wrapper, it was brand new! Well, it had not been used anyway. For all I know, it might have been made during the Viet Nam War! Either way I was screwed. All I could do now was to wait for my ride to show up.
1500 Hours came and went with no jeep in the area. Maybe there was something going on and I was going to be picked up late. I hope this isn’t going to take too long, I was down to one canteen of water and had been drinking the one before sparingly! By 1600 Hours I was swapping batteries again and hoping to get out one last message. Still nothing. By this time I knew I had real problems! I had packed most of my gear before 1500, but now I went through things again. If I was going back to Tent City, I thought it prudent to plan on walking in! And if I was hiking back, I was sure as hell was not about to carry back two dead radio batteries! I dumped the one out of the pack and took the other out of the radio. I left them in the bottom of my little hole so that they could be retrieved later if it became an issue. I stowed the radio in the pack and surveyed the remains of my MRE meals. I still had one entrĂ©e, Beef Stew, and a couple of condiments; a jelly and a cheese packet. The packets of coffee and powdered creamer were useless, so I opened them and dumped the contents on the ground. I kept the sugar packets for the energy they might provide. I put what I could use in the cargo pockets of my trousers, the trash I stowed in a pocket of the pack. The binoculars and web gear went inside the backpack with the radio. I finally took down the camo net that had provided shade for me all day long. Once the gear was put away, I descended to the desert floor. Pack on my back, rifle slung over my shoulder and a full canteen hung at my hip, I saddled up for the long walk ahead of me. I still hoped to see dust from a jeep at any moment.
Now I had no idea about a number of things as I set out. I had no idea if a jeep was on its’ way for me, so I kept on the dirt trail so that I would meet it part way back. I did not know how far I would go before I ran out of daylight, so I set a good pace. I was not sure how long the water would last, but I vowed not to drink until I had to and not too much when I did drink. I did not know how far I had to walk, but I knew that was over twenty miles. I was not sure how I would navigate in the dark, but I had a map and matches from the MREs. All of these things I felt I could overcome. There were a few things that held unanswered questions for me. What about the sidewinders once the sun set and they came out to hunt for food? Would I have to slow down once it got dark? And then there was the big question; would I be walking into a “live” impact area? What about any unexploded ordinance that I might not see in the dark? How long could I jog before dark? Would jogging use up too much energy? Should I cache some of this gear to save weight? No matter what questions I came up with, I knew I had to move and not wait. I could not afford to take a chance on staying overnight. I would just be starting a new day with fewer supplies if no one happened to showed up. It was still hot but it was getting cooler and would get better as I went. It would be impossible to walk that far through the hot part of the day with only one canteen of water. And if I had to wait until tomorrow evening, I would be too dehydrated to have a decent chance. It came down to a simple choice; do I put my life in someone else’s hands or do I take care of myself? And since there had been no jeep to pick me up, I knew that I really had no option. Live or die, it was my choice.
I started out at a quick “route step” with all of my gear. It would be just my luck for it to be lost, stolen or destroyed before I could return to retrieve it. After the first mile, I turned to see how far I had gone. It was disappointing to see that the “Hershey Kisses” still appeared to be very close yet. And although the air was cooler, the heat was radiating up from the ground I walked on. It had all day long to absorb as much heat as possible, and now it was releasing it. This made for hot walking now and it would attract snakes, lizards and insects later on as everything else cooled off. Well, at least I had no problems following the road for now. Not that it was much of a road, just two dirt tracks pounded to dust by years of use by tanks, trucks, jeeps, halftracks and everything else the Marine Corps drove. I was worried about later on, once it got dark. I knew that there was at least one main branch that ran away from the main trail. Most trails branched into this one as I headed toward Tent City. I knew that one branch would also take me where I wanted to go, but it would add an extra mile or two if I took it by accident. There was an intersection that I must turn South at, but I should be there in an hour or two, long before dark. I stepped out with determination and put another mile behind me, and now the distance seemed noticeable. I just kept hoping to see a jeep headed in my direction! Two more miles and a half hour later, I could see the twin peaks where I started, but I could also see the lava flow to the North of a small pass I would get to a couple of miles before that critical turn. As I walked on, I remembered why I liked being in tanks over being a grunt! I hated walking, but it was better than when we were in bootcamp where a long line of recruits tried to keep up with the Company Commander! I could make my own pace here, and walking beat the hell out of dying while waiting for a jeep to appear! I made the turn southward as the sun hung bright red over the horizon. It would be setting within an hour and I would have some light for about an hour after that. I took a swig from the canteen and was grateful that the air was cooler now. Even the road was losing some of its’ built up heat. Now it only felt like a hot grill instead of a blast furnace under me! Thank God for small things!
I had made a good deal of headway by the time it grew dark. I was on the main trail toward Tent City and Mainside beyond that. I was hoping to see lights from the airstrip or Mainside to help guide me, but as of yet I had nothing. I had slowed down a little as it grew dark, so I kicked it up a bit after I took a sip from the canteen. Warm water, whoopee! I opened the beef stew at the corner of the package and squeezed the contents through the hole, into my mouth. My last meal? As much as I like beef stew, I sure hoped not! I told myself that this was the hardest part of the walk back to camp, it easily was the longest. I knew that the Chocolate Mountains were to my left, but the rest of the terrain was pretty much the same through here. When the trail passed through some small washout gullies, I would know that I was getting close. But for now I had fairly smooth landscape to pass through. This was an area where a lot of trails joined this main one toward Tent City. Maybe I could catch a ride if anyone was coming in from night maneuvers. That is if they didn’t run me over first! Now that I thought about it, I had not heard much for weapons fire in quite awhile. Good, let’s keep it that way! Now I thought about the sidewinders coming out to warm up on the trail. Damn, I was much better off not thinking of that! I shuffled my feet to kick up debris to keep from surprising any snakes. I soon gave this up though; it slowed me down and took too much energy. Well, I would just take my chances I guess. I tried to put it out of my mind, thinking about the mental picture of the trail in my mind. I was getting thirsty again, but decided to eat the cheese spread instead. And although it did have moisture in it, it also had a lot of salt and it did not help much. I was still thirsty. One more thing not to think about,
Somewhere along this stretch, I really started to get tired. I was not just sleepy, but just getting bone tired. If they would not be all on my case about it, I would dump the pack and all of its’ contents. I would leave the crap right here and move on. Not an option, so I kept moving. My pace was not what it was when I started out, but I was moving anyway. I thought about sitting down and taking a break, but I knew better because I would rest for too long. No, it was better to just keep walking. Besides, my eyes were adjusted to the darkness now and I could tell where Mainside was. So if I did miss Tent City, I should make it to Mainside instead, since it was only a couple of miles further. But I really did not want to go any further than I had to. I still stayed on the trail; I was still playing it safe and hoping for a ride. I ate the grape jelly and took a sip of water, then a second sip. I had half a canteen left and was still in good shape there. I was wishing for something to give me an energy boost when I heard machinegun fire. “Be careful what you wish for buddy boy.” I stepped it up a notch, (or half a notch), and thought about that burst of fire. I had been daydreaming and it took me by surprise. Then I heard a second burst. It was behind me, not very far away. I turned to look and saw tracers arc out into the darkness, then I heard the shots. .50 caliber and a mile away, maybe a little more. The tracers were headed away from me so I had nothing to worry about, unless they changed their direction of fire! Could they be vehicle mounted and moving? I didn’t think so; I would have heard tanks on the move. I didn’t think there were any amtracs out here, but I might have heard those also. Now if they were the new LAVs, then I might be in trouble, they were much quieter. It was probably a grunt heavy machinegun section. None of them should be firing in my direction as long as I stayed on the trail, I hoped. What I was worried about was the possibility of someone shooting from a range card toward “troops on the road”. It was possible; we usually set up our range cards with possible troop movement areas laid out. I headed away from the firing at a good pace!
I don’t know how long I had been walking now; it had seemed like an eternity by now. I had probably done a bit more than three miles an hour for a few hours and over two miles an hour for the rest of the time. I had hit the little branch in the trail a little while ago and was headed toward Tent City and the airstrip. Tent City was between me and the airstrip, and both were North of Mainside. I had to be getting close, but it was hard to tell just where everything was laid out. If I had a little altitude, I was sure that I would be able to see Tent City. The sun was just starting to turn the eastern sky pale. This meant that it was around 0400, I had been walking for about eleven hours! Damn, I must have overshot the camp in the darkness! I stopped for a drink and to think about my calculations. I only had a little water left after taking a good pull from the canteen. I needed to stop and think, panicking would get me killed now. Had I been walking slower that I thought? It was possible, especially when I was daydreaming. I looked around, trying to make out landmarks. The sky was lightening quickly in the East. I had to check the dark areas of the horizon before they faded into the bland nothingness that happens before the sun finally brightens everything enough to allow a person to distinguish things. To the South, it had already gotten light enough to hide the lights from Mainside. To the West, the Chocolate Mountains were where they were supposed to be. There was nothing to see to the North. To the East, the horizon was flat, except for that low ridge a bit toward the South. Hold on, what ridge toward the South?  That wasn’t right; it should be flat all the way to the mountains where Big Bear was! And from what I could make out, Big Bear was where it should be. It was hard to tell looking toward the backlit portion of the sky. All I could really see looking east was a bunch of silhouettes, but I was not familiar with that small ridgeline. It seemed closer than the rest of the horizon; at least I thought it looked closer. Maybe I needed a little more water to help clear my head. Then I realized what that ridgeline really was, it was the silhouette of the tops our tents! They were right there! I looked hard toward where the tanks should be parked and finally made out the form of an M-60 in the fading darkness! I was home!
I would have run the rest of the way, but my legs would only walk. And as I walked among the tents, I began to feel just how tired I really was! I walked into the Company Headquarters tent, Captain Thompson was talking to Lieutenant Simmons, and both looked at me as I entered. I said, “The batteries were dead, there was no jeep, I saw no enemy and I’m going to hit the rack.” They both just stared at me. I headed toward the tent flap and the lieutenant stopped me. He asked me where I had been. I told him that I had spent the whole day on one of the Hershey’s Kisses like the Captain had ordered. I could tell by the expression on his face that he had not been told of this idea. He dismissed me and told me to wait for him on my cot. As I left I heard the CO mumble, “I forgot”. There were more words being spoken, but I didn’t stick around to eavesdrop. I found my cot and laid my tired self down. I put my head on my dirty laundry bag and cradled my rifle in my arms. I didn’t care; I could have taken a rock and made a comfortable pillow at that point. Just as I was almost asleep the lights came on. Lieutenant Simmons walked to my bunk and asked if I was alright. I started to get up but he stopped me. I told him that I probably had blisters on my feet but I was okay otherwise. By now everyone else in the tent was awake and listening to the conversation.
I was asked to tell what had happened, with as many details as I could. I told my story and everyone listened. I told about the A-4s dropping ordinance and finding that both batteries were dead. I told of how I waited and then decided to walk when the jeep didn’t show up. The XO asked who drove me out. A voice back in the tent answered, “I did, but the Captain never told me to go back, I thought someone else did.” I continued talking about the walk itself and hearing the .50 caliber behind me. It turned out that it had been 2nd Platoon; they were parked under camouflage netting tents only a half mile from the trail! I finished by telling about how I found the tents. Everyone was silent; they were all shocked by what they heard. It wasn’t about how far or how long the walk was, they were shocked by the fact that the CO had sent me out there and then simply forgot about me! No one else knew where I was, I was basically just left to die. That was a sobering thought! Lieutenant Simmons knew that I was from Wisconsin, so he asked where I had learned my desert survival skills. I told him that I had only been out for about twenty-four hours, but I had completed the Marine Corps Institute course on Desert Operations and had read plenty of Louis L'Amour western novels. So I had some idea of what I was up against. I told him that I had extra water with me and shade all day long. He asked if I needed to see a Corpsman. I answered, “No”. Then he asked if I was up to some breakfast, I must need the energy. I said that all I really needed was some sleep. I would eat lunch and walk my post on guard duty after dinner. I thought he was going to choke! He had the craziest expression when I said that! I am a Marine and will walk my post as assigned. He wanted to know if I was angry. I told him, “No, everyone makes mistakes.”
How prophetic those words were! Less than six months later, a Marine died at 29 Palms. I never got all of the details, but he had been given the same assignment I had on the same little mountain. And like me, he was forgotten. He did not have the amount of water that I had, nor the shade. He had waited until morning to walk back. He was found less than a mile from Mainside; he had been able to see the buildings before he died. Everyone makes mistakes, and a mistake in the Marine Corps can mean that someone dies. It does not have to be a combat situation to be deadly. I am not saying that I lived because I was a better Marine physically. On the contrary, if he was a grunt he was probably stronger than I was. I was just better prepared for the situation. And for that I say, “Thank you Louis L’Amour!”

Book Review: I will acknowledge first and foremost that I am a pretty conservative guy. One of my personal heroes has been President Ronald Reagan. Edward “Jack” Dinse wrote a book about his four years in the Marine Corp during the Reagan years of the 80’s. It is a fascinating account of a boy from Wisconsin becoming not only a man, but a US Marine! The title is “Every Day a Holiday, Every Meal a Feast”, is published by my brother and is available at Lulu.com or link to his blog below.http://www.lulu.com/shop/search.ep?type=&keyWords=edward+dinse&x=0&y=0&sitesearch=lulu.com&q= 
At over 400 pages, it’s reasonably priced at $17 for soft cover and $6 for eBook.  It’s a very good read!
Russ Bridger's Book Publishing Blog
Also available at Amazon as a Kindle purchase at the link below. Amazon Prime members read for free!


Saturday, May 3, 2014

Former trucker’s new novel chronicles young driver’s failure

Story thanks to Todd Dills and overdriveonline.com  Links provided:

April, 2014  By the end of the second novel from onetime truck driver Dave Newman (he ran OTR for a couple years some time ago), of Pennsylvania, the book’s protagonist and narrator, Dan Charles, comes to something of an underwhelming conclusion following a DUI piloting a four-wheeler that ends his brief trucking career, if you can call it that: “A job awaited somewhere, one worse than trucking, one where I would have to wear a hardhat and leather gloves and steel-toed boots and I would still end up bruised and burned and dumb, and I was willing to work that until until my fingers fell off, until I lost my hand.” 
Underwhelming only on its face, though, as it might encapsulate the thrust of the entire book better than any other passage or high-drama moment — and there are plenty of both. Bar fights, encounters with “commercial company” and wandering travelers, various disagreements and infidelities, etc., which might sound stereotypical or just from a limited perspective. But in Newman’s hands, filtered through the character’s narration, the moments pile up in believable and compelling fashion.
And before you chastise me for giving away the end of the book, I’ll assure you it’s no spoiler. Newman plants the DUI conviction early in the book in something of a flash-forward. Knowing the ultimate outcome of Dan Charles’ trucking sojourn before it even really gets going is in this case liberating, of a fashion. The book, about failure and family (paradoxically perhaps the two most important obstacles to and assistants for a young man learning how to be alive), as well as work, isn’t much concerned with where Charles is going but rather about how, and why, he gets there.
Dan Charles is in his early 20s and finishing up college with dreams of writing poetry the rest of his life at the beginning of the book. But that sounds far too tidy — the guy’s something of a mess, and he knows it. He’s got a girlfriend he claims to truly hate but seems to love and keeps coming back to, and let’s just say he’s become quite attracted to the dive barrooms of his town, where he and his brother brawl and concoct the scheme that will lead to his going OTR. 
His brother’s a sales guy who wants to be the boss, older than Dan. He convinces Dan that hard-driving OTR work could well finance the brother’s start-up business supplying an industrial widget not easily procured in their area of the U.S., Western Pennsylvania. Dan would be cut in as a principal in the end, but until then, he could “see the country” — through the high windshield of a line-haul tractor. There’s some romanticism in that for the young Walt Whitman devotee, though it dims considerably once he’s been out on the road for weeks pushing himself — and being pushed — too hard.
It’s a wild ride, I’ll say, peppered with no shortage of humor to boot, though in the weeks of chaos leading up to the final break from the business — and the ultimate failure of the brothers’ attempted collaborative venture — it looks like things might work out. No dice, back to square one.
Trucking, in the end, is the preferable alternative to the day-to-day factory grind that’s in store for Dan, as he tells us — “A job awaited somewhere, one worse than trucking” — but sometimes what we prefer most is the worst thing possible for day-to-day sanity. There’s your change, epiphany, what have you, but it’s not churched up as in a melodrama or your run-of-the-mill sort of literary novel. The “big realization,” rather, is downplayed, a matter of course, and feels true to the way such things play out in the real world for most of us.
As I noted before, what’s important here is the experience of the book itself — the how and why behind and all the switchbacks and turnouts on Dan’s journey to this end. Newman’s a fine writer: I won’t spoil the experience for you. You can pick up the book via Amazon and other retailers. Here’s a link to the Kindle version page. 
http://www.overdriveonline.com/former-truckers-new-novel-chronicles-young-drivers-failure/?utm_source=daily&utm_medium=email&utm_content=04-04-2014&utm_campaign=CCJ&ust_id=137f89555c


Friday, February 8, 2013

Free books for your iPad, Kindle, Nook, Reader, PC and Mac

e-book.com.au
Article thanks to Kim Komando at komando.com A link to her site is provided below:

There's never been a better time for those who love to read. In a matter of minutes, you can download hundreds or even thousands of books and take them with you anywhere.
Though ebooks are often less expensive than their paper counterparts, they still cost money. You might pay as much as $5 to $10 for a single e-book. Depending on how fast you read, these charges can get out of control.
However, free ebooks are just a click away on these sites. History, biographies, romance and mysteries - it's all here! Plus, you don't even need an e-reader to read most of the books you find.
FreeBook Sifter - If you know what type of e-book you're looking for, this site makes it easy to find. You can browse multiple categories at once or use the site's powerful search to find the perfect book. The site adds hundreds of new, free books every day.
The site only pull titles from Amazon, so you do need to use the Kindle ecosystem. That doesn't mean you have to buy one of Amazon's ereaders - though they are one of my favorites. You can download a Kindle app for your computer, smartphone or tablet and read the e-books that way.
Feedbooks - If you're not looking for any type of story in particular, this site is a good place to browse. It accepts original books from any author. It has thousands of exciting new authors that are exploring new styles of storytelling.
You'll find everything from bizarre science-fiction stories to intense horror tales. Search with caution, though. Some of the books push the boundaries of good taste and have racy titles or covers. This site isn't a good place for unsupervised kids.
Project Gutenberg - If you're looking for something a little safer, check this site out. It has thousands of classic books that are in the public domain. New titles are added daily.
In addition to free books, this site offers sheet music, speeches and even music and videos. Several books are offered as audiobooks if you prefer to listen instead of read. It's a wonderful tool for researchers and students.
eBooksRead - This site is a delight for researchers and history buffs. Not only does it offer more than 320,000 e-books, but it has classic texts, statistics and essays
You can browse the site by keywords, authors or titles and download in multiple formats. You're sure to find the file format that works with the gadget you want to use to read.
Overdrive - Many of these sites focus on older books. If you want to read the latest best sellers, you should try this site. It taps into library databases to help you borrow books for free.
Of course, this means you won't have the book forever. However, you can return or check out books right from Overdrive's app. You don't need to take to a trip to the library or worry about overdue book charges.
http://www.komando.com/downloads/category.aspx?id=13940&utm_medium=nl&utm_source=weekend&utm_content=2013-02-02-a-aj&page=3





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Sunday, December 2, 2012

Part Two: The Milwaukee Mob and Lieutenant Uhura (Star Trek)

transgriot.blogspot.com
Remember Star Trek and the actor who played Lieutenant Uhura of the crew of the Enterprise? Her real name is Nichelle Nichols and in her autobiography described a couple of brushes with the Chicago and Milwaukee mobsters that could very well have put her in an early grave! 

Part two follows, Part one was posted last night:
Nichelle, born in 1932, studied in Chicago as well as New York and Los Angeles. Her first big break came in an  appearance in Kicks and Co., Oscar Brown, Jr.'s highly touted, but ill-fated musical. Although the play closed after its brief try-out in Chicago, she attracted the attention of Hugh Hefner, the publisher of Playboy, who was so impressed with her appearance that he booked her immediately at his Chicago Playboy Club. While still in Chicago, she performed at the "Blue Angel", and in New York, Nichols appeared at that city's "Blue Angel" as a dancer and singer.  Between acting and singing engagements, Nichols did occasional modeling work.

While making a name for herself in the Chicago clubs, she received a two week offer to open a posh new supper club in Milwaukee. It was a dream job, headliner status, a two week contract with options for up to six, and great pay. The newly remodeled club was magnificent with a spacious stage that was a performer’s dream. She met the musicians, chorus-line dancers and Laura, a singer whose specialty number was a scintillating bolero. Everyone seemed like one big happy troupe.

The first week went very well, with great reviews and packed houses, but she sensed something peculiar about the place. The dancers would giggle nervously between acts, then dash from the stage, dress in a flash, and head upstairs to mingle with the customers after each show.

From Nichelle’s basement dressing room, she would hear Louie the bartender snapping at the girls, “all right, let’s move it. Ya know, Mr. B. don’t like nobody bein’ late. Let’s go!” Within minutes, they’d be gone. What these pretty young girls were doing was going upstairs to “B-drink”. This was an old practice where the girls mixed with the audience to encourage male customers to run up large bar tabs. If you were B-drinking with a customer, you might order a glass of champagne, then the bartender would pour you a ginger ale. The customer, who probably ordered champagne, also, got billed for two champagnes. This allowed the club to make a fantastic profit on the bar and also created an atmosphere conducive the other business of prostitution. Of course, in the better B-joints, prostitution was not openly practiced, but many a girl made her “dates” on the side.
  
Nichelle was sitting in her dressing room one evening when Louie the bartender came banging on the door. “ Miss Nichols! You’re wanted upstairs!” She replied “Thanks but no thanks. I’m getting ready for my next show.”
“Look,” he replied firmly, “I’m not askin’ ya, I’m tellin’ ya: You’re supposed to be upstairs. NOW.”
Nichelle: “Excuse me? Who do you think you are talking to?” Louie’s mouth dropped as she closed the door in his face!

When Nichelle got a chance to talk to Laura, the bolero dancer, she found out what was going on. “This used to be a strip club” she said matter-of-factly. “Leopards don’t change their spots, they just change the decor”. Nichelle: “You mean it’s the same owner who owned it when it was a strip joint?” “Yeah replied Laura, “we were the strippers. Or did you think we were all legit?” She then realized that this was probably a mob connected joint that she was working.

The Meeting
The next night the club’s owner came to the dressing room, Frankie Balistrieri. Nichell described him as small, stocky, yet always impeccably dressed. Frankie introduced himself and said: “I understand from Louie that we’re having a problem.” Nichelle: “I don’t have any problems, I go upstairs every night, do my two shows, then I go home.” “Yeah, I know,” he said patiently, then proceeded to explain to me what my job really was. “So you see, that’s how we do it here.”
“I’m sorry”, Nichelle replied. “I don’t B-drink and I don’t play B-bars. My agent told me this was a legitimate supper club.” “But I want you should do this,” he said gently as he calmly cracked each knuckle.

After going back and forth for awhile, with Nichelle asserting that she was raised by good parents, didn't drink, didn't smoke and had a young son to raise, she threatened to leave if that’s what Frankie expected of her.
Frankie stood there silently, looking at her. “Okay,” he said at last. “You’re bringing in lots of customers. They like you, so it’s okay. You always mind you mother and father, you will not go wrong. Anybody tells you anything, you tell ‘em to talk to Frankie Balistrieri. I like ya. You got class kid.” “Thank you”, said Nichelle.
Note: Mobsters seldom take no for an answer. They just think of another way to get to you! This was in the mid-1950’s and Frankie was not yet the “godfather” of the Milwaukee mob, that wouldn't happen until 1961, but he was training hard for it!

The Realization
Nichelle knew she had to get out of there and was counting the days until her two week contract was up. A couple nights before what was to have been her last night came another knock on the door from Louie. “Oh, uh, Miss Nichols,” he said in his cretinous voice, ”by the way: Frankie wants ya here anuddah two weeks.”

Frankie exercised that first two week option with a raise, then another bigger one, by which time, Nichelle was dying to leave. She began to get the idea that Frankie was fond of her when he invited her up to visit his family. His wife and children were said to have never been seen at the club before.  While staying at a very nice hotel around the corner and up the block from the club, she began hearing stories about Frankie and the local rackets. He was not yet the Midwest Don he would become, but was working hard at it. His gang and his rivals were entrenched in a turf dispute, and right before she left, a stripper at another club was shot on-stage and killed by a rival mob. They had no compunction about making sure that their girls never got away. The implied threat of a savage beating or a shattered nose kept all the girls in line. Nichelle became increasingly afraid and more determined than ever to get away. Ironically, her show was growing increasingly popular and for the first time in Frankie’s career, one of his shows was reviewed in the local paper. The better she got, the deeper the hole she was getting into.

When finally marshaling the nerve to tell him she was leaving, she first saw the dangerous glimmer in Frankie’s eyes. “You know,” he said menacingly, “nobody quits on Frankie Balistrieri.”
Scrambling to find an excuse, she blurted out “But it’s my dad. He’s had a heart attack and my family needs me back home. I have to go.” It was the performance of her life. “Your dad, huh?” Frankie considered as he eyed her carefully, her thinking that he knew she wasn’t telling the truth, but he “seemed” to go along with it.
Remember, they just start thinking of another way to get to you!

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do: You leave and go care of your father. I respect you. That’s beautiful. Then you come back here and bring your little boy. We’ll find you a nice apartment. You’ll love it here!”
Smelling the trap, Nichelle responded, “I’m not bringing my son here. And I’m not moving to Milwaukee. I’ve been here 10 weeks and I’m dying inside. I’ve got to go.”
Frankie’s response was a statement, not a question: “Okay, go home, and come back, and you’ll give me six weeks. Then you’re free.”   Nichelle went home for a couple of weeks and told her parents some, but not all of what was going on. Her father had enough experience with the mob that he also knew she couldn't just walk away. She had observed Frankie carefully and started to formulate a plan. So did Frankie. Thinking that if she stayed the whole six weeks, he’d be able to convince her never to leave, he started turning up the heat. 

Enter Frankie’s lawyer, Dominic Frinzi or "Mr. F." as everyone at the club called him. In his $1000 silk suits, he was slick, suave and cunning as a snake. He tried to buy her with a key to an apartment, fur coat and jewelry, which Nichelle had to continually refuse.

The Plan
It was now time for Nichelle’s plan. Three or four weeks into her run, she contacted a reporter that had written a great review of her. She told him she had a real scoop for him and proceeded to enthusiastically reveal how because of the terrific exposure she’d gotten working for Balistrieri, she was on her way to New York! She told of how she owed everything to Mr. B, she gushed, because he was so kind to feature me in his club. The writer ate it up and when Frankie read the item in the paper, he did too! “Why dincha tell me you were going to New York?” he asked proudly. Whether Frankie really believed that she really believed that he had discovered her, or was simply saving face and deciding to give her a break, we’ll never know. Frankie went around for years boasting that he discovered her. Nichelle’s engagement was mercifully shortened a couple of weeks and she finally got away. However, not before a girl from another club was found dead one morning, her body disposed of in a trash can! Link to Part I

Credit and thanks to Nichelle Nichols and her 1994 book Beyond Uhura. The book is still available at Amazon (link provided below) and is a very good read, especially if you were a Star Trek fan!

More of my posts about the Mob:
"Mr. Fancy Pants" Balistrieri - Tracking Milwaulee's most dangerous mobster
Benjamin "Lefty Guns" Ruggerio-The real story of the "wise guy"
The Beef That Didn't Moo - Wisconsin Ties to the Mob
Tales of the Milwaukee Mob and Two Cigarette Men!
Married to the Daughter of a Milwaukee Mob Boss-Our Pediatrician!
The Milwaukee Queen Bee of Organized Crime
Tale of a Failed Milwaukee Mob Hit!
Lieutenant Uhura (of the Starship "Enterprise") - close encounters with the Chicago and Milwaukee Mob!
Part Two: The Milwaukee Mob and Lieutenant Uhura (Star Trek)
Milwaukee Mob Attorney - Tale of a Double Life
The New York Mob and Iowa Beef - Part 1
The New York Mob and Iowa Beef Processors - Part II
Sally Papia - A life lived on the edge
The Milwakee Mob Hit on Anthony Biernat
The Milwaukee Mob Hit on August Palimisano
New York's "Joe Bananas" meets Milwaukee's Frank "Mad Bomber" Balistrieri
The Life and Times of a Chicago Mafia Hit Man
From Balistrieri's Bag Man to Investigative Reporter

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Saturday, December 1, 2012

Lieutenant Uhura (of the Starship "Enterprise") - close encounters with the Chicago and Milwaukee Mob!

startrek.com
Remember Star Trek and the actor who played Lieutenant Uhura of the crew of the Enterprise? 

Part One:
Her real name is Nichelle Nichols and in her autobiography described a couple of brushes with the Chicago and Milwaukee mobsters that could well have put her in a very early grave twice!
Nichelle was the daughter of Samuel and Lishia Nichols and was born in 1932 in Robbins, IL, a small town about 30 miles southwest of Chicago. Her father, Sam was the town mayor and chief magistrate.


Earlier that year came a headline in the Chicago newspaper “Capone Gin Mill Smashed: Small Town Busts Mobster’s Booze Factory”. 

The small town that the gin mill was in was Robbins! As soon as her father, Sam, read the paper, he knew he was going to get a visit. He sat on his porch all day waiting, a long black limousine finally appearing and proceeding up the driveway. Sam told his wife to get the kids and go into the the house. “Sit the kids down and don’t make a sound”. She sat down on the sofa with a pillow in her lap and hugged her youngest child, Frank, sitting next to her.

As the limo came to a stop, four men exited the car, all wearing black camel-hair coats and black fedoras. One of them opened a back door and a fifth man emerged wearing a pearl-grey silk suit, white silk shirt, and tie.
“You Sam Nichols?” he asked. “Yes, I’m Sam Nichols and the mayor of this town” was the reply.
The man then asked Sam if he knew who he was and Sam replied “I know why you’re here. I read the newspaper. I just don’t know why you’ve come to me”. The stranger said “Well you’ve got a problem Sam, my name is Mr. Capone and I’m here because my brother Al is very displeased with you.” Sam asked “Can we talk privately in my study? My wife is pregnant, and you’ve frightened my children. No need for them to witness this, is there?” “Lead the way” replied Capone.

One man remained outside as the other three followed Sam and Capone into the house. Two posted themselves in the parlor with Lishia and the children, while Capone, the other goon and Sam went upstairs to the study. Lishia, hugging the pillow tightly, stared straight ahead.
Sam offered Capone a brandy, which he accepted, and began “I know your mill was raided by one of my officers. He was a rookie and thought he’d make a good impression.”
“He made a helluva impression, Sam” snorted Capone. Sam: “Yes. Well. What I don’t understand is why you’re here to settle your displeasure with me. I didn’t even know your mill was in my township.” Sam knew by the look on Capone’s face that he didn’t believe him. Sam: “I know you’re here to kill me. But I ask two things: One, why hold me responsible, and two, whatever you do to me, don’t harm my family-please.”
Capone snarled “For five big ones a week is why you’re responsible, Sam” He set his glass down, rose from his chair, turned and softly commanded to his bodyguard: “Be quick and clean.” As Capone had his hand on the doorknob Sam firmly stated, “I never received a dime of your goddamned money!”
The gangster turned and ordered “Explain, Sam”. “YOU explain", said Sam, "I should at least know why I’m about to die! Who did you give money to?” Capone exploded “What are you, pazzo?” “Your police chief, Sam! Two for him and three for you, in cash, on time, every week for the last 18 months. Now, I’ve had it with this game. Arrivederci!”
Sam jumped from his chair. " I never received a dime from that weasel,nor did he ever approach me about it! He knew if he had, I’d have handed him his head on a platter. I’d have never let you put your gin mill in this township! This is a clean, honest town and I’d rather die before I’d help it be corrupted, dammit!”
Capone and his goon exchanged a quick glance before relying, “You almost did, Sam. I’ll tell you what, we’ll check out your story. It checks, we won’t be back.”

They then went downstairs and Capone crossed the room and patted Lishia’s shoulder, and said “You can relax sweetheart. Sam’s OK. For now.” For the first time, Lishia’s eyes met the visitor’s, and as she stared through him, slowly removed the pillow from her stomach to reveal a pearl-handled six-shooter, fully loaded. The children gasped and Sam held his breath. “It’s a damn good thing he is”, she hissed

Startled, Capone’s goons all drew their guns, but their boss gestured for them to relax. “You had this all the time?, he asked incredulously. “Why didn’t you use it?” “You hadn’t done anything,” she answered icily. “, You were guests in my home.”  Capone’s nervous guffaw crashed the silence. “You’re all pazzo!” Turning to his bodyguards, “Out of here, you goombas!”.

Turning at the door, Capone said, We won’t be coming back Mrs. Nichols.” Then to Sam, “ You've got yourself one helluva lady there, Mr. Mayor.” Capone and his henchmen then drove off and never bothered them again.

And where was Nichelle Nichols? Under the pillow, next to the gun, inside Lishia, waiting to be born!

Had Sam been killed that day in his study, it’s frightening to think of what would have happened next. It’s highly unlikely that Capone would have intended not to harm Sam’s family. That would have left witnesses who could have put him away for life! Stay tuned for Part Two tomorrow. It’s the story of Nichelle’s encounter with the Milwaukee Mob and leader Frankie “Mad Bomber” Balistrieri!

Link to Part II below!
Part Two: The Milwaukee Mob and Lieutenant Uhura (Star Trek)

Credit:
Beyond Uhura "Star Trek and Other Memories" by Nichelle Nichols
Good reading, and highly recommended, especially if you are a Star Trek fan!

Other of my related Mafia Posts:
"Mr. Fancy Pants" Balistrieri - Tracking Milwaulee's most dangerous mobster
Benjamin "Lefty Guns" Ruggerio-The real story of the "wise guy"
The Beef That Didn't Moo - Wisconsin Ties to the Mob
Tales of the Milwaukee Mob and Two Cigarette Men!
Married to the Daughter of a Milwaukee Mob Boss-Our Pediatrician!
The Milwaukee Queen Bee of Organized Crime
Tale of a Failed Milwaukee Mob Hit!
Lieutenant Uhura (of the Starship "Enterprise") - close encounters with the Chicago and Milwaukee Mob!
Part Two: The Milwaukee Mob and Lieutenant Uhura (Star Trek)
The New York Mob and Iowa Beef - Part 1
The New York Mob and Iowa Beef Processors - Part II
Sally Papia - A life lived on the edge
The Milwakee Mob Hit on Anthony Biernat
The Milwaukee Mob Hit on August Palimisano
New York's "Joe Bananas" meets Milwaukee's Frank "Mad Bomber" Balistrieri