Tanker Trucks for Fire

                                      23^rd July 2021

 

My Dear Governor Newsom,

 

With California in flames as is more and more common a question keeps popping up in my mind. “Why do we not rent tanker trucks to bring water to the fire?” I grant that these will not reach the dens wilderness that is currently burning, but they could stop the fire at roads and homes.

 

We bring in air vehicles to drop water on fires, and I would think that they make structures a priority. Tankers can reach any place with a road and are often fitted to work on construction so they can deal with dirt. I would think that tanker trucks could deliver water to the fire trucks at least giving them more of the number one thing they need to fight the fire.

 

The political activist Michael Moore rented a tanker, filled it with water from Flint Michigan, and hosed down a location to prove a point, and if he can handle the hose I would think most truck drivers can. I’ll grant that this isn’t the best of times to try something new, but Californians want action, and there has to be someone who can tell you if this would help.

 

The fires will only get worse from here on, and we need to get smarter to deal with them. Tanker trucks to bring in water from distance, pumps to use water from lakes and rivers, dry ice to be shoveled into brush to smother the fire are all ideas that we should be looking at. Then we should have apps to organize it all and better management, but right now we need to build numbers and get as much equipment fighting fires as we can.

 

The truth here, Mr. Newsom, is that the world has presented you with a challenge in a dark hour. You’re facing recall with your state in flames. Is there any better time for you to show us that you can lead than now? It’s time to be innovative, it’s time to make history, and it’s time to be the hero you know you can be.

 

I believe in you, Governor,

 

 

Richard Leland Neal

Letters to Agents

23^rd August 2017

My Dear Friends at Management,

 I am a screenwriter, playwright, and novelist so I am pleased to find a company that would work with all three. I’ve been published in the ‘Pioneer Artistic Review’ twice. I have sold a script to Absurd TV and was then contracted and have completed rewriting a script purchased from another author for the same company.

I am currently looking to market a script called ‘Walker in the Trees’ which is something of a horror/thriller designed to be a lower budget theatrical release.  I have also written the novel to this film. ‘Walker in the Trees’ centers around Karl a man haunted by the ghost of his murdered sister.  In the film he has hunted down her killers and they become the primary victims of the story.  This film earned me an A+ in Screenwriting at Cal State University Fullerton.

I have two full length plays that have done well in cold reads, I am working on another novel, and have written another film in the romantic comedy range.  Writing is what I love and I’m not all that picky about what I’m writing.

Thank you for your time,

Richard Leland Neal

23^rd August 2017

Mr. (agent),

I am currently seeking to market a Novel and screenplay called ‘Walker in the Trees’. This is a thriller novel not unlike the work of Stephen King in its supernatural nature and would be marketed primarily to men between 18 and 35 but has elements of LGBT and stronger female characters.  The novels primary distinction is that through much of the second act it focuses on the villains as they are caught between their own illegal activities and an attacking force.  

As an author I have been published in the ‘Pioneer artistic Review’ and sold a script to Absurd TV. I was also contracted by Absurd TV to rewrite a short film written by another author. I wrote ‘Walker in the Trees’ because I was told as a film it would be easy to market by a college professor. I then rewrote it as a novel because copious sources have stated that a novel is far easier to market.

Thank you for your time,

Richard Leland Neal

All in Your Head

4^th January 2017

Dear Cassi,

I may have mention a few times that the old man refused to take me to the doctor when I was in high school. This is to say that he wouldn’t take me to the doctor for mental health reasons. He did take me in for a ‘sports physical’ a few times and he even once pointed to this to say that I was fine.

The doctor ordered a blood test that the old man wouldn’t get off his ass to drive me to so I feel his argument is rather hollow. He went against doctor’s orders there at very least. 

I remember the old man said “it’s all in your head” as if that meant it wasn’t real. A brain tumor is all in your head but mental illness is in your head, in the tissues of your heart, and in every part of your body. Further, weather the problem is in your head or in your foot there is no reason to deny your child treatment.

That was Yule for you. He would first laugh at my problems, and when they didn’t go away he would yell at me over them, but the old man would never do anything to help.  If I’m to get anywhere in life I need to get there on my own.

No one helps Richard Leland Neal. I am a man beyond help and beyond asking for help. I must accept that part of my life.

Ego Solus,

Richard Leland Neal

Not Drumpf Enough

5^th January 2018

My Dear Mr. Oliver,

Back in February of 2016 Last Week Tonight aired a segment that attempted to remove who would soon become our president of his faith inspiring name. Whereas I admit you have had some success in the area there is much room for improvement. I very much enjoyed seeing men and women on Facebook talking about Donald Drumpf.

Unfortunately, the president’s name is still on everyone’s lips, and Drumpf is nearly forgotten. Well, what went wrong?  For one thing, Drumpf is uncharacteristically dull for Last Week Tonight. Unlike news about the president Drumpf just isn’t fun. For another, it’s just not saucy enough for your program. So, what name can we come up with to help America get over its orange dictator addiction?

The answer came to me when I saw an old photograph of myself and remembered the Native American name my mother had given me. She called me ‘Hair of the Golden Rod’ because in youth my hair was strikingly blond. So what would the name of Mr. Drumpf be if the Native Americans named him for his most notable feature?

No, I’m not speaking of orange skin or use of tanning oil. I believe they would call him “Shitting Bull.” You may have this with my compliments, Mr. Oliver.

Best,

Richard Leland Neal 

Give so They Buy

7^th January 2012

Dear Cassi,

   

Do you recall the first time you used a computer? I do. It was one of those Apple IIe units with dual floppy drives and a green monochrome screen. Those units were donated to schools by the Apple corporation in a highly successful attempt to promote their product.

   

I’ve been told that this action caused the only point of domination for Apple computers in the market. Everyone new Apple, so everyone bought Apple. It worked for a spell then the spell wore off and everyone went back to PC and its Windows formatting.

   

The first time I worked on a color unit was when I went into therapy for my learning disorder. I recall the Jones Clinic rather well. They had a lab of “IBM clones” that I worked on as half of my treatment. These devices were next to useless by today’s standards but I recall them being fun.

   

After my mother died my father got me a word processor that worked better than any of those computers. That business lasted until my freshman year in high school when I got a real computer. It had a half gig hard drive and sixteen megabytes of ram. That was the going system for 1994 and I thought the world of it back then. There is no greater change in our world than the computer in the last twenty years. At least most of those are for the better.

Stay safe, Cassi,

Richard Leland Neal

Play for the Right Reasons

6^th January 2015

Dear Cassi,

Being a man as large as I am it should be no surprise to you that I was encouraged to play football in high school. Never having a love for sports I agreed but it was a terrible fit. For one I was one of three white men on a team full of the kind of folks who boo the American flag and talk about how much they hate this country.

       

The players hated me for being who I was and the coach hated me because I wasn’t dedicated. Well, he felt that all players needed to have sixth period Physical Education and as I couldn’t take that class he never let me play. He couldn’t keep me off the team, though he should have, but he didn’t have to let me participate.

       

Now I was so large a man that when I did get to practice, when too few players arrived for us to scrimmage, I could stop the varsity team from moving the ball. As a freshman I was proud of myself for this fact, but it gave me no playing time. 

       

Then I would have made a poor player. I was large and bulky but slow, slow because of the depression that marred me, and slow because I was so big. If I had played I never would have been able to maintain for the game.

       

Then again, most of the players only preformed their drills when the coach wasn’t watching, and no one wanted to win so much as they wanted to play. I gained an experience from football but it was only the merest of anecdotes in my life.

Play for the right reasons, little sister,

Richard Leland Neal

Night of Bad Dreams

1st March 2015 

Dear Cassi,

Last night was a night of bad dreams, but in waking I found the sink a mess and the laundry in need of doing. Were the dreams so bad as my reality? I had to hold off on proper food and eat only something to keep my body going. Until nearly midnight I could make myself no proper meal because of the mess I had to address.

I had taken nothing into my gut for nineteen hours and so was feeling drained and weak. I guess you know this life, but I can only guess. I do not recall when I first started doing dishes, but I know it had hard to reach the counter top when I did. You must remember that back then my mother was too weak to wash and the rest of my family to lazy.

I stacked out the dishes and started addressing the jumble in the linen closet having to wash everything over again. I can’t imagine how Pickle finds it so hard to fold towels. Then the cabinets get rumbled after he washes dishes and the mess grows until I pull it all out and start over.

For more than twelve hours the washer or dryer ran with most of it being both at the same time. The dishwasher ran twice and the long run of cleaning only made a dent in the detritus.

In the end I finally when back to sleep and had more bad dreams, but not as bad as my waking nightmare. Now in the twilight of the day I sit before the computer logging this misfortune.

Live as you can, little sister,




Richard Leland Neal

Pen Friend

I do believe that “Pen Pall” was changed to “Pen Friend” at some point for legal reasons. It is impossible for me to remember if I ever sent letters to this person for real or if I simply wrote them.                                

I think the most telling statement in this letter is that I had to except verbal abuse to get help with my work. A family should be supportive but mine never did lend me so rare an article.

13^th April 1995

Dear Lydia,

                    

Do you mind if I call you Lydia? My name is Richard Leland Neal, you’re so called pen friend, but I haven't been too friendly, have I? I have been kind of busy in this or that, but I will send you letters. This is my second letter but the 1st was not up to my standards.

                  

The delay on this letter will be lengthened by the process of correcting it, which will probably involve my English teacher depending on his will, or my ever useless sister who will simply scream at me about my mistakes. I would prefer my English teacher.   He will do a better job but he has better things to do then correct my private letters. I have poor spelling and punctuation skills you see, and it is an awful chore.

                    

I am at this moment sitting in front of the (WHITE MONSTER) my computer. It is the best friend I ever had despite the trouble it gives me. That's life in California.

                      

Moving on would you be so kind as to tell me about yourself, it  will help me to send longer letters to you especially if you out do me in volume. I have never been much for writing, but I have confidence that will change.

                                                                                          

Sincerely

                                                                                          

                                                                                        

Leland Neal

Organizing My Business

16^th June 2012

Dear Cassi,

I drudge on in the working of organizing my business and make little improvement. This game I have played alone is one that I am losing as I labor on seeing day after day that my home is still a mess and my comics make only the smallest progress at becoming organized.

       

I set about this task around two weeks ago and as I struggle on I see the massiveness of my labors. I dedicated to viewing another of my comics on the old Vengeful Rose website for every action towards my goal of clean home and organized affairs. My goal is to finish by the time I have viewed every comic on every one of the six computer screens in my work room.

       

I’ve passed through the first screen and am working on the second but the house looks as it did before even as I do come closer to having my comics in order. My body is a lump of cold dead flesh animated by nothing but the motion of will and so it crawls on at a snail’s pace.

       

I find myself in a prison of my own making. The walls are high but broken and the guards are but shadows. Still it binds me so securely.

Find your freedom,

Richard Leland Neal

Security Blues

If there is one thing I need to get out of my “to be posted” box it’s the letters sent to Iraq.

That was a dark time in my life and I said so many idiotic things. Well, laugh at me why don’t you?

13^th July, 2007

Dear (soldier on deployment in Iraq),

I got your letter today, and I can’t tell you how much I regret not joining the army as a young man, and I can’t tell you how much I want to get done with school now. I hate everything about college at this point, but I want my degree and to move on with my life. (My evil sister) and his wife are now trying to do things with (my brother), meaning that they intend to do something about the Richard problem.

No typo here. My sister is very manly, and it has always been an inside joke that my brother-in-law is the wife of that marriage.

The same way the military should be moving is how I should be living my life. Move fast, hit hard, and get your ass out of there before they get a sight on you. That’s not how it’s happening I know, but if everyone wants to go killing each other in Iraq who are we to go stopping them? That’s the attitude I have to take with my family. Let them tare each other apart and get my ass out of here.

The plan at this point is to stage a few daring raids while building up a large force and then, when the moment is right, everything will charge. The night must become day and the day night. They will not know how to respond and be defeated. That is why I work on plays now, so that I will have a better chance of getting out of this shit faster.

As for your father, honestly, direct conflict is not the best action. If it were me in your shoes I would ask why he didn’t love me anymore. Seriously, why get angry and have him say, “That woman turned my son against me,” when you can make him feel like a shit? If you said “I don’t call you, because I don’t want to hear you tell me I’m as screw-up” or something of the nature it will change the way he looks at this.

You could also tell the truth, and say that (your wife) is helping you get your life back in order, which she is, and that he is standing in the way of that. In the end you could always say: “I thought you wanted me to be happy “. That would do the job.

Not that this is anything new with your family. They never understood how we could be such good friends. It’s like we are old army buddies, and I have never been in the army. In the end we must remember that life goes on no matter what may happen in the lives of men like us.   

In other news you would not believe what happen at work. One of the most junior officers got pissed off because he thought that I wasn’t doing enough work and started screaming at me. I told the company that he should be suspended because it’s obvious that I do the most work and that he is just lazy. They confirmed that I do the most work but refused to do anything about (the guard)'s actions. The next day at work one of the guards called me “wonder bread” it loud enough for me to hear. I promptly called (my supervisor) and left a voicemail about what happened, and now the other guards aren’t allowed to talk to me at all.

I was assigned to one of the out bound lanes, and I worked entirely alone. Only thing is that it’s less work for me to work one lane alone than to help other guards with two. I get more reading done now, and I’m far happier working this way.

I have no faith in the company’s ability to end this problem but my goal is not to find a comfortable place in security but to get out of security and move on to something better. That is why this is a change for the better. I’m unimpeded by the actions of the other officers.

Stay well my friend,

Richard Leland Neal

Love, Work, and Live

If you are one of those people who would like to have children, but have chosen not to due to economic factors then this letter will resonate with you. I know it plays some sad notes with me.

16^th September 2011

Dear Cassi,

Here is an event that will strike a note in your soul. You might remember that of the four (family or) children there is one girl, and she is presently now the most likely to place that ever desired accessory of a grandchild in their midst.

    

On the last, and for that matter every, occasion where I have seen the (family) daughter since the announcement of her nuptial she has counted the same tail as to why no child will grow in her womb. It is the statement that by the time she completes her schooling she will be too old to have a child.  

    

The true enormity of this falsehood can only be revealed when we examine the vast and unconditional love heaped upon this unappreciative girl. It is noted now that she spends her days as a ward of her ancestors and so does her husband to be an in this loving care she has also left her dog, cats, rats, and I believe at one time fish. It would be of small accord for her to place also in this loving vessel that child or children that could be cultivated within her.

    

It is then my place to ask myself what to motivation can be for her often repeated thought. Is it that she is explaining to pacify her mother or to convince herself of this untruth? It can be to soften the bed for this child to be lain within or give justification to the reason for its blankets left cold. I have not the notion of why the advantages of family are to be left as old tracts to rot in now baron fields.

    

It is the sad nature of these folk to place disdain upon the aid they would be given. These are the things that would be so well received by we the less fortunate. In a world where the human race must still have known want to be well with what they have these sad tails are common. It is a great rule of life then to love what you have, work for what you want, and live the best life we can.

Stay safe, Cassi,

Richard Leland Neal

Unsure

Okay, here it is, a real letter to Cassi.

6^th June 2011

Dear Cassi,

Well, you’ll likely get three letters together this time. I was on my way to drop off my last letter when I found the preceding letter in my car. I had a good amount on my mind when I was mailing that. It was the last week of school, and I was worried about them letting me graduate.

I keep wondering what I’m going to do with my life in the bad economy. Nothing I ever do tends to pan out, or maybe I’m just not putting enough into it. I don’t know. I spent tens of thousands of dollars on my education, and now it looks like I’m going to have to double that figure at grad school.

I had to ask for an accommodation because I was working and couldn’t find an internship because I was working. Then I lost my job, and the accommodation was pointless. However, what was done was done, and I was going through with it.

After I passed the class I had to email an adviser, and have them change my records to reflect that I had been given the accommodation. I sent out the email half hoping that it would be denied and that I would have more classes. That’s a funny thing to hope for after all this time.

Then I got an email back saying that I had to wait longer. No plans can be made. Finally, I got a mail back saying all had been done, but even now I have no idea if I’m a college graduate. I’m listed as candidate not graduate.

Now I just have to hold everything until I get my diploma. I’m going to apply for grad school in that time anyway. There is no better way to test this development.

Stay safe,

Richard Leland Neal

Letter to a Soldier: the Two Trainees

This letter was written during a very hard time in my life, and I’m pleased that I have some log of it. The past is a notation of things we have done, mistakes we have made, and other things we should remember.

As I have said, this is another of the letters to a soldier on deployment in Iraq. I gave him a rundown of my life in order to have something to say.

You can tell me if I was a good friend.

 

 

2^nd June 2007

Dear (Soldier),

I know it has not been long since my last letter, but to be honest your mother sent me a video, via email, and it has been bothering me from the day she sent it over. It spoke for the soldiers in Iraq saying things like “don’t you remember me?” and “Did I do something to make you angry?”

Does your mother feel that we have forgotten you? She sent that video to lots of people so I don’t think so, but it bothered me as much as it bothered (your wife). I never knew how difficult this business would be for every one. It’s funny how the ruined mind always thinks the world should be so pristine and that the small problems rate the same attentions as the large. We tend to snap and jeer at one another over small things, and forget the larger problems.

Well, enough on philosophies. Work is just as bad as it was in my last letter. The night after I posted it we had to trainees (Trainee 1), on his second day, and (Trainee 2), on his first. It was this night that the supervisor, give us hour lunches again. He didn’t tell me this until after my lunch, so he let me take half an hour later on. 

I could tell that (Trainee 2) was having problems from the first minute he was on post. They decided to have him work inbound log and the first question he had was: “Do the truck drivers fill this out?” Right, we stand here and hold the paper work and the driver does all the work for us. That’s what security work is like you just stand around making sure that ever one does the right thing. Writing down the logs was too much work for him. It was a bad sign.

During the slow times I got to talk to him. I asked him my usual questions. Is this your first post? “I can’t count how many posts I’ve been on.” Have you worked the company long? “Two years.” How did you end up with this shift? “School, I’m a full time student.” This wasn’t the place for him, but he was stuck here. Well, what ever, this isn’t the place for me either, and I’m just as stuck. I’m told he objected to getting on the rolling stairways we use to seal the trailer tops, but (Trainee 1) didn’t like doing it any more than (Trainee 2) did from what I could see.

(Trainee 2) took his lunch around 0311. He didn’t ask for permission because (the site supervisor) was not around to ask. 0400 came around and he didn’t show but I said he had been late so just let him have another ten or so. At 0420 (the site supervisor) told me to take my second half hour and I found (Trainee 2) sleeping in his car. I told (the site supervisor) who said “wake him up and send him home.” I woke him and told him all about what happened. He was upset, but not too upset, more upset then I would have been.    

That’s the story of the one-day guard. I told him to call the boss in the morning, and have him come up with what to do about this situation. We lost two guards that day, (Trainee 2) and one of the guards that walked out early the two days that client management decided to pay me a visit. As it stands, we are now two guards short, the 2100 to 0500 spot and the 2200 to 0600 spot. We lose 1.33 guards every week.

All this must be boring the flaming snot balls out of you. Don’t feel alone; the work is uninteresting to me as well because of the lack of interesting people. I don’t think this experience is as good for my writing as my last job. Then I’m caught between working on plays and working on books. When I work on plays it makes me want to work on books, but right now I need to work on plays.

(Pickle) came up with another line that just has to be in a play. “If you got drafted I’d have to pay all the bills myself.”  I’m trying to come up with another comedy that works with my “family”. It isn’t as easy as it sounds or reads, rather, but there are two many good lines to give up. 

I know you can’t talk about your work, and that’s no big deal. I don’t suppose you interact with the locals much either, but the imagination is always more interesting then the truth when it comes to the cloak and dagger stuff anyway. I worked with a man that served as an MP in Iraq and he told me that when he was shot at he had to write less then when he found damaged freight in the cross dock.

It’s been a crazy few days over here in the states. I hope things are going well for you in the sand box. If I happen by a nice specimen bottle I’ll send it down your way, and you can fill it with sand. It would be kind of cool to have a piece of Iraq.

Peace and long life

Richard Leland Neal

Car Crash

Here is another letter to Cassi. I’m spending a good amount of my time reminiscing over bad times. Hell, at least I remember who I am.

31st May 2011

Dear Cassi,

In the way of getting through my files I came across a document from my second employment as a Security Guard. It was the very first written assignment they had placed me on with a company that sold its assets the following year and now is no more.

I remember that day well because I was in a car accident that day. They had promised me a post 27 miles from my home but promises are just words. They had said I’d spend a few weeks working at a sporting goods factory first, and that was a drive of about 60 miles.

When I complained the woman at the front desk had told me “You need to go where I need you” my needs never crossed her mind. Sadly, they had me and they knew it. I needed a job back then bad enough to have to put up with their flack.

I went straight from the office to train at the sporting goods factory. I had some trouble finding the place, and I tried to pull a U turn when I got hit from behind. Hit and run, the driver never stopped. The impact spun me around and slammed my face into the door post of my car. I had a cut on my right cheek and I was stunned.

The Guard who was to train me came running out and told me he had called the police. I stood waiting for a few minutes and the guard came back out. He wanted me to start training. “Sometimes the police don’t get here for half an hour,” he said but I insisted I had to stay with my car. “Sometimes they don’t come at all,” he said, but I wouldn’t budge. He left me standing there again. I didn’t want to train at that place to begin with.

In a few more minutes he came out again, and gave me his cell and said the office was on the line. It was the first time I used a hands free. They told me that I’d be going to the other post, the one that they had promised me at the beginning.

It appeared as if they had come to the idea that this could be their fault, and they didn’t want me to hold a grudge. My car wasn’t that bad off anyway, but I’d take the better post.

When the policeman finally got there he was pissed that He had to make a report. It was a felony because of the cut on my face he said. I was just happy to be going home.

I had medical for a few more days under (Yule) and I got checked out. To add insult to injury (Yule) didn’t even call me to see if I was okay.

I was about to turn 22 and I was still on the family car insurance. That all ended when they told me that I would lose my uninsured motorist coverage.

There was good and bad that day, but I got what I needed to make it through another day. Sometimes that’s all you can ask for.

Stay safe,


Richard Leland Neal