Earth’s Survivors new book

Earth’s Survivors

I spent today updating websites
and working on interior files and covers for the ES series, so you are going to
end up with a partially recycled blog from a few million years ago when Jesus
and I were in grade school together. I mean, of course, Jesus, Wanda and
Pedro’s son. So don’t write me and tell me I picked on religion, I picked on
Spanish friends instead.

Today the topic is Cell
Phones…

Cell Phones: Tin cans and string: This Cell phone thing is my
generations fault. I’ll fess up right here. We tied string to tin cans, pretended
they were loud and clear radios, and dreamed of networks of tin cans and
string. Okay, I dreamed of networks of tin cans and string. I think a
few of my friends did too, but I won’t put them on the spot. But, someone must
have besides me, because we grew up looking for that tin can.

We spawned children with that
tin can thing embedded in their DNA. That and the Communicator from Star Trek.
If that wasn’t a glimpse into the future and cell phones, I don’t know what it
was. It was inevitable, and we should have known it as soon as some fool back
in the fifties gave us Walki Talkies.

It was almost a reality right
there. Probably good enough for some of us, but no, not for all of us. Some
said…

“Hey, Bob. What if I could
talk to Tim, Ellie and even my sister Sherry with these things?”

“Well, Bob says. “Why
would you want to talk to your sister Sherry? She’s a girl.”

“Oh… Right… Never
mind.”

But, then some other guy went…
“Hey, Bob. What if I could talk to anyone I wanted to with this thing? I
mean like anywhere?”

“Well,” Bob said.
“We’d have to make them affordable… Put them in the hands of people
everywhere.. We’d have to build relay stations… We’d… We could do it! We
could!”

And so Marketing and the Cell
Phone industry was born right there. And Bob probably headed it. Now we all
have Cell Phones and we might as well be welded to them, or they to us.

Last week I remembered I had a
cell phone for a reason. To make calls to people, or so that people could reach
me. I was watching a really stupid movie at the time. Four young people
stranded in the desert. The moron dude (There is always a moron dude who does
the dumb thing that puts them all in the bad situation), so, the Moron Dude
wrecks the truck and they’re stranded in the desert. So what does he do first?
Tries his cell phone. And does it work? Of course not. And, I thought, hmm, I
have a cell phone, what if I paid all this money for minutes, and, and
(I tend to get excited when I think of stupid things that just might be
possible) I get stranded in the desert, and I flip open my Cell phone, and I
have, like, 300 minutes, so I sigh, relieved, I will not die in the desert and
the young woman med student won’t have to pound a hole in my head to relieve
the fluid buildup so I will live!
That was what she (The med student)
had just finished doing to one of the people in the movie, pounding a hole in
her head to relieve the pressure buildup. Hmm. It didn’t work too well. The
person still died. Now, my characters do things too. But I have yet to write a
scene where one actually pounds a hole into another characters head with a
frickin’ rock.

I’ll tell you, I was relieved. I
have enough holes in my head (Some say). Then I remembered the scenario. Minutes
don’t matter. Reception matters. So, in my head, in my little world in
the desert with the Moron Guy, and the Med Student woman, I look down at my
phone again. Damn. 300 minutes and no bars. But, like the Moron Dude I try it
anyway. Doesn’t work. The young Med Student woman is looking at me funny. Like
she can’t wait to pound that hole in my head. Son of a bitch, I think. This
really sucks. Then I remember, it’s not real. I am relieved again,
except I am still watching this pathetic movie, and I am looking at my cell
phone and wondering why I welded myself to it.

Anyway, dumb movies aside, it
really did get me thinking about my cell phone. I have this many friends. (I’m
holding up fingers on one of my hands). Let’s just say it’s a small
amount, I have fingers left over. Now, all of those friends never call me on my
cell phone. If they need to reach me they send an email or call me on my land
line. Yes, I have a land line. I know how pathetic that sounds. And I rarely
ever use it either. But that’s another blog. So, my friends know my email
address, and my home phone and my cell phone number, and they never call me on
the cell phone. Yet every month I buy minutes and put them on the damn phone.
So I must have thousands of minutes on the phone. Just then the phone rang.

“Hello?” I’m cautious.
No one calls me here. “No one calls me here,” I say.

Turns out it is a new-old
friend. IE: One I knew years before who just reconnected and does not realize
no one calls me on my Cell Phone.

“Hey,” I say. What
else can I say? “No, you’re not bothering me,” I lie. Then, the phone
goes dead.

“Hello? Hello?” I take the phone away from my ear and stare at it as though
that can fix it or at least tell me what is wrong. Nope. five bars. Hey, wait a
minute, no minutes! How can that be? I just ran out of minutes on my cell phone.
But I just put minutes on it. Hmm, a conundrum.

That lead right into the stupid
movie, and I realized, if it was me, my luck would be that I would find
I had a signal, and then discover that I had no minutes. And so, I asked
myself, why is that? And that is the crux of the problem. Because, as I
mentioned, no one calls me on my cell phone. So, where do all the minutes go
to? They go to all the other calls. The ones I didn’t ask for. The Cell Phone
Spammers. Yes. Those guys/gals/machines. They call all of the time.

“Hi! did you know that
for just three hundred dollars a month you can get an unlimited number of
minutes,”
the voice asks?

“Really,” I ask?

The voice just keeps yacking.
It’s not a real voice. It’s a machine. But I’m lonely, they know it, and they
know I am stupid enough to listen to a machine… At least for a little while.

“Press One now for the
Budget Plan. Press Two for the Super Business Package. Press three for
the…”

I hang up. Cell Phone Hooker,
I think.  I think some other unkind
things too, even though I know it is a machine. An hour later the phone rings.
I think, ‘I shouldn’t answer that. They probably just want to sell me something.’
But I am stupid, or I have a defective gene, or both.

“Hello? Is this a
machine,”
I ask right off the bat.

“No sir,” a female voice. Heavy accent. “I am calling
regarding your account.”

“Oh… Oh, sorry… I
get these machine generated phone calls you see…”
I shut up, because of course it’s the Cell Phone. Yakking
is money. “My account?”

“Yes sir… My records
show that you have the Thrifty Budget plan. And I wanted to make you aware of
the Super Business Travelers plan..”

“Huh?”

“Your Cell phone
plan,”
she explains.

“I don’t have the
Thrifty Budget plan,”
I say.

“Are you sure,” she asks?

“Mm, yes,” I decide.

“Hold on sir.” She sounds upset, leaves the line, and like the idiot I
am, I wait for her to come back. Ten minutes later she does.
“Sir?”

Probably she is checking only to
see if I was stupid enough to hang on. But, no, I answer. “Yes…
Ma’am.”
I’m even polite. What an idiot.

“My records show that
you do not have the Thrifty Budget plan. Please forgive me.”

And I am ready and willing to
forgive her. It’s hot over there in New Delhi, I watch Big Bang Theory. I saw
Slum Dog Millionaire. I know it’s got to be a hard job working half way around
the worl… She interrupts me.

 So, Sir?” She waits until I answer. The minute monster is eating my
phone alive.

“Yes?”

“So, wouldn’t this be a
great time to get the Super Business plan?”

Finally it dawns on me. “Hey,
are you from **** & ****?”
(My phone provider)

“Well, no. I’m from ****
*****.”

I hang up. I feel used. Dirty. ‘Damn,’
I think. I am even cussing. ‘Damn Dirty Ape. Frig!’ It is the most
severe cussing I can come up with on short notice.

Okay, so I’m sitting there, and slow as I am, it finally dawns on me where all of my minutes go, they go to answering the phone so these guys can sell me more minutes so I can answer the phone, so they can sell me more minutes, so I can answer the phone IF one of my friends ever call, and, as evidenced, if one of my friends do call, I’ll have no minutes to talk to them. Boy am I dumb. Hmm… Then I think, well, I could just let the medical student woman in the movie pound the hole in my head. Might be quicker, smarter too.

So, Earth’s Survivors. I have tried for a while now to bring back, or reboot the series, and although I am on my feet somewhat, I am also as recovered as I am ever going to be; and I can not sit down and write the way I used to. It isn’t there anymore. Two strokes, three heart attacks and open-heart surgery that did not go well has just taken too much from me. So I took the ten books that have been written and published them in one collection under my W. W. Watson pen name, and that is going to be the end of it. The other books are written and simply need to be spoken or typed into Word and edited, etc., but although I have tried I can’t get it done. I have looked at passing all of those along to someone else to do, but that is difficult, a lot to ask of anyone, so for now they will sit.

I have about twenty-five of those, each two contain a new book. I have another ten or so that include other books, short stories and a set of journals that cover a ten-year period. If things turn around, or if I find someone to send on that mission I will gladly do it. In the meantime you can find the compilation eBook here:

THE NATION COLLECTION

iTunes: https://books.apple.com/us/book/earths-survivors-the-nation-collection/id1154467599

NOOK: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/earths-survivors-w-w-watson/1132107719?ean=2940153731162

KOBO: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/earth-s-survivors-the-nation-collection

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/664945

Okay, that’s my week. I hope your week was good…

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