F. P. Dorchak

Speculative Fiction Author

fpdorchak

Bueller? Bueller? Bueller?

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Ah, Ben Stein’s immortal roll call.

Today marks the 25th anniversary of John Hughes’s Ferris Bueller’s Day Off–one of my favorite comedic movies (along with Fast Times at Ridgemont High, and Vacation [my favorite]). Also really loved the Ed Rooney character, especially that end shot (or whatever it’s called), where they play that “duh-duh” music and he’s forced to ride the school bus.

Save Ferris!

Check out this link for some video.

Bueller?

Bueller?

Anyone?

Anyone?

Extreme Odds, by Rick Hanson

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I recently finished a book by a friend of mine, Rick Hanson, who’d passed away Feb 2, 2001.  We’d met in the early 1990s, at a Pikes Peak Writers Conference, in Colorado Springs, CO. In one of the conference sessions, we writers were reading portions of our work to editors and agents—as well as the entire room. We had people keep track of time as other writers read, since there were many who needed to read and we had a limited amount of time in which to get them all in. Rick was reading the opening pages to his manuscript, Spare Parts, and I was the timer for that session. As I remember my first impressions of him, he was quiet-ish and unassuming, an extremely friendly guy. So we all settle in, Rick gets up front, begins reading, and I begin timing:

“Never disembowel yourself with a claw hammer and never speak to Margot before noon.” *

This was the opening line to his first novel, Spare Parts. The room started laughing and kept on laughing the entire time. And I had the unenviable duty of having to call his time when it ran out. That wasn’t easy, I did it—but I wanted to hear more!

As luck (I don’t believe in “luck”) would have it, his manuscript was snatched up by Denise Little, for Kensington Publishing. Rick went on to publish five Adam McCleet books Spare Parts, Mortal Remains, Still Life, Splitting Heirs, and Extreme Odds, before pancreatic cancer took his life. Rick had later married Cassie Miles, who I also knew, and the two of them were the perfect pair, both fun loving and happy and I always remember them laughing. Before his death, he and his wife had made one more road trip up to the Northwest.

So, over the years, I’d read the first four books a couple times, but for some odd reason, it wasn’t until several years ago that I realized there was one more book of his out there I’d missed. Life kept getting in the way, I kept forgetting to search for it—whatever—but I finally did buy it a couple weeks ago, and read it last week. Good Lord, it was hilarious! It’s a whacky story (I love “whacky”) about a real-estate huckster who creates his own country…within the state of Oregon. Called Bob. What about Bob, you ask? Bob comes complete with its own security (and a trailer for a jail), financial system (how many bobs in a U.S. dollar—or is it the other way around?), radio station (K-BOB), and a different kind of “Bambi.” It made me realize how much I miss the guy! He was funny and I went to as many of his book signings as I could. The first four of his books are autographed, with my favorite autograph of all time on his Spare Parts. It reads “Thanks for buying my books. I need the money real bad.” This was so like him. And as I read Extreme Odds, I couldn’t help but notice the “death” themes running throughout the book, and wondered if he knew at that time in his life he had cancer. It made reading the last two lines of the book even more poignant. I still wonder at how I’d missed his last book, but I’m glad I’d finally found it and was able to “rediscover” this last work of his and enjoy it!

*Taken from Spare Parts, published by Pinnacle Mystery, 1994

The Sailing Stones of Death Valley

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I’d first read about these things years ago when I was a kid, and over the course of my life thought I’d made it all up—until I checked out this MSN link. Well, I’ll be danged—there they were!  The Sailing Stones of Death Valley!

Okay, being that I’ve given so much thought to these over the course of my life, and that this is so fricking out there to begin with, I thought I’d come up with a just-as-out-there possible solution. A gedankenexperiment, s’il vous plait:

What do the tracks look like?

Trajectories.

Of what?

(Here it comes…)

Flying saucers. UFOs. Foo Fighters!

Yeah, isn’t that out there?  I mean really out there?

But, wait—there’s more.

What kind of UFOs, you ask?

Ours.

Ain’t that just great?

Maybe…it’s a training field for UFO drivers, as they’re being taught by the Master UFO drivers, yeah? You know, like when you learned to drive, you took out the Family Truckster into a deserted parking lot and drove donuts til you puked?

I don’t know how much I believe this, but let’s just give this some amusing “whiteboard” consideration, in this gedankenexperiment of ours. And, yes, I know—these things have supposedly been around some 90 years, but with some of this “technology,” time actually doesn’t matter, and UFOs have also been seen for as long as Humans have been walking this earth—they’re even in some Renaissance paintings. I say that Death Valley being a “huge patch of nothing” makes it a great area for UFOs to play around in, whoever’s flying. You know, screaming around, buzzing and skimming inches over the ground. Heck, conventional fighter pilots do it—why not other “pilot types,” right?

And what if these UFOs were controlled by magnetism or electrogravitics, or some other power source that emitted a force field? So, here you are screaming along at 70,000 feet, then—purely and justly fer kicks—you dump the nose, and power dive…only to yank-and-bank it out of oblivion at the last possible moment….

Or, perhaps, you’re just tooling along in your craft, and huggin the ground, like terrain following aircraft ….

So, you see, in this gedankenexperiment coming so close to the ground, your force field would move some rocks about…while leaving others untouched.

It fits!

Okay, that’s my theory, whether or not I believe is moot…

But, most amusing to kick around!