THAT TIME IN SILVER CITY

By John Klawitter

<700 words>

 

I was feeling old and blue, feelin’ my age, you know, wonderin’ where everybody’d gotten themselves off to. I know I been out of it since the band broke up, feelin’ sorry for myself, I confess; you think it’s all gonna be okay forever and then there’s an unexpected kabam over something that’s nothing and it’s all gone. So here I find myself rehydrating at a bar in Silver City in Idaho called Jackie Rogers Pickle Bar & Books and that seemed to me like an odd name for a saloon; I looked around and it seemed there was all sorts of folks I’d met at one time or another.  In one corner there was some fellow looked awful much like Johnny Cash (even though I knew that couldn’t be ‘cause he’d passed on to that great ranch in the sky), and across the way was an imitation Kenny Rogers after he got his face lifted though I warned him against, and there was some lady I didn’t know up on stage and she was singing in a sad, sweet voice.  Seemed like she was lookin’ right at me, you know, the way they do, and she sang

  I’d like to be just half the friend/ You always thought I was

I wish I’d had a winning plan/ Worthy of your love.

 

Your joy came from some hidden space/ Rare light for this time and place.

Your smile lit up the neighborhood/ Let’s all hear it now for being good,

Yeah, let’s shout out/ an’ kick about

Raise a rousing cheer for being good.

 

Oh we did tootle/ and we’d honk/ Freewheeling at our trade

And we did wander Happytown/ With many a song we made.

 

Free lancers true/. Joyful and blue

Wandering through/ Do what we do.

 

The years went by/ we lost our way

Jamming through the life we made

Life water flows/ No place to stay

We couldn’t tell / was night or day

That was the price we paid.

 

And yet…

You helped out when you could/In boom times and in bust

You advised me what to do/And told me when I must.

 

Once you were free and clear

I didn’t see; I didn’t know

You flew off from this rocky shore

Too sudden soon no longer here.

Too sudden soon you had to go.

 

I like to think I’m better now/ I’ve learned a thing or two

I wish I’d learned a little more/ I could have shared with you.

 

Your smile lit up the neighborhood/Let’s hear it one last time for being good.

Let’s raise a beer and give a cheer/ Let’s all hear it now for being good.

Yeah, come on now everybody—one last time for being good. 
Let’s all hear it now for being good.

 

The sweet girl finished her song and started to pack her guitar back in a battered case with stickers all over that seemed familiar. She wasn’t quite as young as she’d looked with the lone spotlight on her, and I realized I knew her from somewhere or other.  Seems we’d played a gig together in Austin, or was it Amarillo, I couldn’t remember, or wait now, comin’ back to me, seems like a lifetime ago we’d played together maybe a hundred or so gigs, yeah, right, back in the early days but we’d lost track and Lord o’ mercy, time goes by too fast, you know it don’t you, and then next thing I heard she’d passed though the veil, bus off the road. Driver fell asleep, something like that, and I remember thinking that seemed impossible here it was, she could be gone and I knew it couldn’t be true even though it was.

 

The beer wasn’t settling right and I started to get up and leave but found myself on the sawdust floor looking up at the ceiling and that seemed mighty strange but then she was standing right there over me, leaning down with that smile of hers, holding out a hand.  “Come on, you crazy old cowboy” she said.  “We got a long ways to go before dawn.” 

 

And I got up and left with her.

 

*Let’s All Hear It Now For Bein’ Good,

Lyrics, John Klawitter, ASCAP

 

 

The Troopers' Prayer

 

The Trooper’s Prayer

Lyrics by John Klawitter, ASCAP

Written for Wounded Warriers,

the Old Spooks And Spies Reunion,

June 2017, Cincinnati.

Inspired by a ballad by Willie Nelson

 

It's been rough and rocky travelin'
But I'm finally standing upright on the ground
Checked out my P.T.S.D.,  and surprised
to find my mind's still fairly sound

 

Tricked by Chi Coms down from China

Pourin’ south across that border wall

Made our point at Inchon

Determined there we wasn’t gonna fall.

Could be Vietnam was the roughest
But I know we’ve said the same about them all
We received our education
In the service of this nation, standin’ tall.

 

Almost ambushed north of Kabul, a little careless

After weeks without a rest.

Sweatin’ up and down the hills there

Don’t really bring out your best. 

 

And near the mosque in Bagdad
When the bad guys strapped the bombs to kids in cars

They nearly tore my ear off

With gasoline they stored in small glass jars.

 

And comin low with napalm blow at six hundred

miles an hour; a little left, a little slow

took out friendlies, I don’t know

 

I don’t believe the eagle shout

“Kill em all, God sorts it out.” 

Open that door, it’s hard to tell

The name of war, it’s total hell. 

 

Yeah, it's been rough and rocky travelin'
With metal legs we’re standin’ on the ground
After takin' several readings we’re surprised
To find our minds’ still fairly sound

Maybe Syria is the roughest
But I know we’ve said the same about them all
We received our education

In the service to our nation, when you called.

 

It's been rough and rocky travelin'
But we're finally standing upright on the ground
Checked out all our vitals  and surprised
to find our being's still fairly sound

And

We received our education

In the service to our nation, when you called.

 

STRIKE! historical novel FINALIST IN 2020 READERS FAVORITE CONTEST!

 Reviewed by Susan Sewell for Readers' Favorite

Settling a debt of family honor, a wealthy Italian World War I veteran journeys to America and becomes embroiled in a war between the employees and their corporation in the stunning historical mystery, Strike! by John Klawitter. After the Great War, Anthony Anselmo's grandfather charges him with the responsibility of remunerating the war widows whose husbands fought in their family sponsored military unit. The last one on Anthony's list lives near Chicago. Leaving behind his disapproving father and their family business, Anthony travels to America. However, feeling responsible for the death of the young soldier, he procrastinates in concluding his quest. To have something to do in the meantime, Anthony takes a job at the local steel mill for a mere eighteen cents an hour. Confounded by the strenuous labor and hazardous working conditions the employees endure, with so little compensation, Anthony joins his new friends and co-workers in a grim battle to bring about necessary changes. While the situation at the steel mill is intensifying, in Italy the Anselmo family is under siege, and someone is out for blood. Will the trouble follow Anthony across the ocean? Between the menacing unscrupulous strikebreakers and the assassin on his trail, can Anthony elude death and finally begin to live for himself?

Intrigue and mystery are at the heart of the brilliant novel Strike! by John Klawitter. Set in the 1920s, the engaging characters, intriguing storyline, and the complex and exciting plot create a spellbinding story. Beautifully written, the mystery is gradually revealed, teasing the reader along. Totally caught up in the drama of each character's life, I didn't want to miss a word; I couldn't put the book down until the very satisfying conclusion. I loved every aspect of the story but was especially fascinated by the historical facets of the plot. This riveting novel will delight those who enjoy intriguing mysteries depicting early twentieth-century industrial America.

POLITICAL
RELIGION

I have a small group of friends who are extreme
anti-Trumpers.  You probably do, as
well.  They find ‘evidence’ of Trump
badness in the work of other anti-Trumpers – snarky cartoons, vile slurs, foul
aspersions, supposed news reports of dubious origin.  They are bright, intelligent, educated
people, but they don’t personally know Trump and don’t actually know any of the
badness is true, and yet they eagerly post anything negative about our
President on their social media sites. 
Anything they can find that reinforces their negative opinion.  Anything. 






So, since, from what I observe, they don’t know any more than
anybody else, their wild Anti-Trumpism looks to me like a sort of belief
system. 





My wondering bemusement (and wandering wonder) is that,
perhaps coincidentally, many of these same friends of mine are atheists, and
when they debate religion they cite scientific methodology to draw their firm conclusion
that there can’t possibly be a God. Nothing is acceptable to the conversation
if it doesn’t qualify according to the strict laws of scientific inquiry.  Nothing. 






So are they phonies? 
Frauds?  Self-delusional
morons?  Posturing idiots?  I don’t think so, they’re pretty bright
people.  Can it be that politics is all reasonable
logic while religion is all unreasonable nonsense?…mmm, that doesn’t sound exactly
right, either.  What do you think?

Death Drop, the new action thriller suspense mystery (all that) by John Klawitter

An army vet finding his way in civilian life outsmarts a wily investment banker only to find the banker is better at murder than money.

now available as an ebook or trade paperback at the usual venues.  (amazon, etc.)

Death Drop, the new action thriller suspense mystery (all that) by John Klawitter

An army vet finding his way in civilian life outsmarts a wily investment banker only to find the banker is better at murder than money.

now available as an ebook or trade paperback at the usual venues.

Welcome to The Klawzine

Welcome to the Klawzine.  Here I,  John Klawitter, comment about the ways of the world, where we're at and where we seem to be going, and listen to your ideas and complaints.