Three NEW Ingredients!

Location: Punta Gorda, Florida 
(for now)

2023 is off and running…. So are we! So much has happened since late December. Allow me to share three exciting new ingredients we’ve added to our personal recipe!

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In this issue:

1. A New Collaboration
2. A New Phase
3. A New Chapter

Life surprises us with its constantly evolving recipe with joy, intrigue, drama, tragedy and comedy. Events that blend together—some fiery and passionate, others that calm and sooth.

And sometimes, our lives are inundated with an avalanche of events—whether we choose them or they just happen. That can feel overwhelming.

Regardless, we each decide whether to savor or recoil from the taste. And whether we should use that recipe again, given the choice.

Most of us think we know the combination of ingredients that will cause smiles to appear or tears to flow.

Maybe we do.

With each new ingredient, we experiment to see how it will affect the recipe. Then, there are circumstances thrust upon us by fate, or kismet, or a universe with a cosmic sense of unfathomable humor.

So, let’s talk about our three new ingredients—Kay’s and mine! Exciting, chilling and spicy.

Besides, I’ve beaten this wretched recipe metaphor to death by now. Don’t you agree?

Moving on….

1. Feature: A New Collaboration

I am excited to announce that I have forged a new collaboration. No, Kay and I are still together. This is different. And a delightful surprise.

One of my readers offered me a screenplay to read that he wrote thirty+ years ago. I read it, and was impressed.

Lieutenant Tom Kasprzak (retired) was an Environmental Police Officer in Massachusetts for thirty-two years.

I’m now embarking on a unique new adventure series based on Tom’s action-packed career. He is a tremendous resource of authentic story material, and we’ve hit it off.

I thought I’d share with you a synopsis of the first book in this new Sam Travis Adventure Series, “Lethal Game – Bears Under Siege“….

A Massachusetts state game warden’s body turns up under a pile of brush in the deep woods. They find a decapitated bear carcass on top of him. It’s paws are missing, too. 

Captain Larry Jamison’s personal life is a mess. But he is compelled to investigate the murder of one of his own. 

Officer Sam Travis, the victim’s longtime partner, wants vengeance. They both may just be in over their heads to find out what these poachers are after. And why. 

These environmental police officers soon discover they have stumbled into something far more insidious than they could have imagined. But that doesn’t stop them from risking everything.

I hope to have this published by August.

I’m grateful for what early readers (pre-publication reviewers) are already saying about “Lethal Game:”

• “Thanks for a great read! Your characters are painted vividly, and draw the reader in.“
• “The pace is quick and smooth and makes it nearly impossible to stop reading.“
• “Lethal Game is awesome! The baby bear scenes are heartrending!”

Allow me to introduce my featured guest for this post, the real-life version of Sam Travis, Environmental Police Officer (EPO) Lieutenant Tom Kasprzak (retired). Tom is the real deal, folks. Here’s why:

“LT” spent thirty-two years as an EPO for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.

Before graduating in 1977 from the Massachusetts State Police academy, Tom earned the coveted “top gun” award for superior marksmanship. 

He began his EPO career as a field officer in various assignments involving both inland and marine enforcement in places like Cape Cod, Boston Harbor and others. 

After transferring to the Berkshire Mountains in Western Massachusetts with skills honed from 7+ years of varied case involvement and courtroom testimony, he forged close relationships with local and state police. 

Upon being promoted to lieutenant, he led a region of officers in search and rescue operations involving plane crashes, boating fatalities, narcotics, and the investigation and apprehension of various firearm violators. 

Beginning in 1986, LT engaged in undercover or supervised undercover operations focused on  endangered wildlife.

During that time, he worked with other local, state, and federal agencies on issues ranging from the environment to anti-terrorism.

Tom was selected to train in no fewer than three extended tours at the prestigious Federal Law Enforcement Training Center (FLETC, pronounced “flet-SEE”)  in Glynco, Georgia, where federal law enforcement agencies train. 

Those intensive and immersive training tours honed his skills for inter-agency undercover operations, marine operations, and advanced operational readiness. He also trained for, and was an Incident Commander in several cases.

During his colorful career, Tom worked with the Massachusetts State Police air wing on helicopter operations, their dive team, apprehension team, marine law enforcement, and environmental police operations. 

Tom spent his last seven years assigned to the State Police STOP (apprehension) team headquarters in Chicopee, Massachusetts, along with all the members of the region he supervised. 

His undercover assignments brought dozens of individuals to justice who violated state and federal laws. He was also a Deputy National Marine Fisheries agent as well as a U.S Deputy Fish and Wildlife agent at the same time.

His largest case—Operation Berkshire—closed one of the country’s largest illegal commercial wildlife trafficking operations involving twenty-nine individuals, six states and two foreign countries. 

The exploits of Tom and his fellow officers from his home state and others led to new exploits in crusading against illegal wildlife commercialization.

National Geographic produced a special called “Wildlife Wars: Bears Under Siege” that featured Tom and his fellow undercover operatives after they closed Operation Berkshire. 

Tom taught new recruits at the State Police Academy courses in courtroom procedures, officer ethics and undercover operations.

He also delivered endangered species lectures to schools, colleges, municipal police departments, as well as to other state and federal agencies including US Coast Guard District One in Boston with whom he was specifically trained in LNG (Liquid Natural Gas)  tanker escort anti-terrorism protocols in Boston Harbor. 

He made a name for himself during dozens of successful missing persons, body recovery cases, undercover operations, anti-terrorism and crime scene investigations. 

Tom and his life partner, Karen, now split their time between Western Massachusetts and Southwestern Florida.

I am excited and honored to tell just a few of Tom’s stories (maybe they’re “fictional biographies”?) in this fresh new series where adventure thrusts itself upon an officer of the law in the weirdest, sometimes comedic and often life-threatening ways imaginable.

Look for “Lethal Game – Bears Under Siege,” the first Sam Travis Adventure, late summer 2023. Learn first when it will be available right here.

Exciting!

Note: This series will comprise medium-length novels based on the true adventures of LT, his fellow officers, and the criminals who were dumb enough to cross paths with these ambitious but light-hearted cops who often operated undercover. My objective: These will be fun reads that you will find unusual, hair-raising and often funny as hell.

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2. A New Phase

On a very personal note…

Congratulate me!

I survived my first cardiac event just before Christmas, four days after my last newsletter published.

Huzzah! Part of the ol’ aging process. And an unexpected new ingredient in my own life’s recipe.

This experience also grew to be meaningful to me in an unexpected way.

So, here we go. My life is an open book. That’s why I write, I guess.

Pay attention if your ticker is as old as mine, or if you’re just morbidly curious!

On the afternoon of Thursday, December 22nd, I started to feel… “wonky” (light-headed, a pounding in my temples, and in my throat). No chest pains, though. Getting horizontal became my priority.

My Apple Watch said my heart rate rocketed from 50 BPM (beats per minute) to 165 an instant later. Then, back to 85, then to 140. And so it went for an hour or so.

My feeble brain just couldn’t process what was happening to the rest of my body. Unknown territory, y’all, at least to me and my old Series 2 Apple Watch. The newer (younger?) ones are smarter.

Yes, I thought I’d never get the chance to finish my next book(s), and I wondered how Kay, my family and friends could possibly go on without me (you DO know me, right?).

But I’m now at the same age my father died from his third heart attack—I seem to remember he was smiling on the way out. But then, hey! I’m still here, Dad! God bless genetics.

Within minutes after Kay called 9-1-1, our bedroom here in our Florida home filled with EMTs from the Cape Coral Fire Department just down the road. The ambulance gang arrived minutes later to join the party.

Now, I won’t lie to you. This “event” scared the crap out of me. I laid on my bed with my pulse racing from wide open throttle—way past the red line—then, to dead slow.

Yup, it was my heart. I mentally recounted the hugging goodbyes I’d never deliver.

Chilling.

With an IV dripping into my left arm from a pole attached to the ambo’s gurney, I dropped back into what’s known as normal sinus rhythm (what it should be) before they even hoisted my strapped-in petard into the ambulance.

At the ER, they slid me through every machine and ran every test known to modern medicine over the next several hours.

Guess what? Some of you know what “atrial fibrillation” is, right? It’s caused by a micro-voltage signal imbalance in the top of the heart, or some such sciency thingy.

My heart got confused and I slipped into “arrhythmia,” or an irregular heart rhythm. But it found its way home before long.

From all the lab work, a stress test and other tests like an EKG, echocardiogram (ultra-sound of the heart), and a nuclear something-or-other, two cardiologists agreed that I am in really good shape despite this “irregularity” (ok, I could stand to lose 6 or 9 pounds that snuck back inside my sweatshirt, somehow), and that being a physically active vegetarian was likely the most remarkable difference between my dad and me at 73.

Even though Dad and I both share the same genetics, our lifestyles could not have been more different. I am grateful for his example. He did what he had to do. I learned from that.

Honestly, the worst part of this little adventure? They kept shaving patches of hair off my chest at the hospital with the dullest blade in the western hemisphere so they could attach probes with adhesive patches held in place with crazy glue, or its facsimile. No, wait… the worst was ripping off those damn patches!

Now, I’ve learned, just about everybody my age I know is already a member of the a-fib club. No big deal, they all say.

I experienced only one additional a-fib episode on January 3rd, and none since. Happy New Year!

They tell me the biggest danger from a-fib is the risk of blood pooling in the heart and clotting. That could migrate and cause a stroke.

So, my blood needs to be just a little thinner—not much—than before, to reduce the risk of stroke if I should slip into a-fib again. I’m very low risk of falling prey to a villainous stroke.

But a-fibs will happen again, especially since it was someone’s bright idea that I continue to age. Seriously, folks? Now, I take a baby aspirin once a day.

That’s it.

I can do that.

But this is a new phase in my (our) life. I think of myself differently. How could I not? Every little “funny feeling” has me second-guessing whether my heart is acting up. Again. Whether it’s fiction or fact.

I am prone to high drama. My index finger shoots to my neck to check the beat. I think, Seems regular. Is this a minor chest pain, and is it significant—another early indicator of the second shoe dropping? Or is it just a sore muscle to consider as part of my pain management regimen?

Thank the gods for 8-Hour Tylenol Arthritis. And so far, the beat goes on.

It’s been said the heart is a rather important component of the human anatomy. But that’s just an Internet rumor, mind you.

A certain freedom then blanketed my worrying heart and mind. Everyone says a-fib ain’t a big deal. And even if my time now is short (now that I’ve achieved ‘middle age’ at 73 – yeah, right), let’s just get going! We’re doing the right stuff, so let’s just do more of it. Or… not!

I’ve already been blessed with a more interesting and fulfilling life than maybe 95% of the people on the planet. Screw it! This is already a high-scoring game, right? And I’m ahead! Thanks, Dad. He always said, “life is a whisper. Listen to it.”

I do acknowledge current events have temporarily delayed my audiobook endeavors. My microphone is calling my name. But so is the road. I shall heed the call, ladies and germs.

So, be forewarned. I’m taking my own advice. I wrote a verse a while ago and published it in one of my literary experiments last summer. The book is called The Poetic Detective. Here are the final six lines of a poem from that book I call, “Wide Open Throttle”

… Eat the fruit, ditch decorum, reach for glory, it’s okay.

We are here for a reason, as a beacon not to worry

about crap we can’t control, about fear that consumes

our best cherries, our great hearts. With others, commune.

As captains with courage we pilot our own ship.

Life is short, so go long, do what’s right, let her rip!

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3. A New Chapter

Having uttered these words of full-throttle bravado (you decide whether they ring true for you), we’re just now starting a new chapter in our lives, Kay and me. And yes, “top speed” means something different than it once did. That’s so very okay.

My old friend, Sheriff Steve B, asked if we are, indeed, soon to be homeless. Talk about an exciting new ingredient in our recipe for life. Too spicy? Time will tell.

Let me say this about that.

So, to what new chapter am I referring? We sold our condo. By Friday, March 10th, Kay and I will own no real estate anywhere in the known universe. Or anywhere else (wink).

Now, here’s the spice. After two months of planning, packing, working with our realtors, a reputable moving company and moving/storage insurance, our move plan fell apart one day prior to the move date.

Spicy, eh?

Remember the old saw about a battle plan is perfect—until the first shot is fired?

Yup. Reset. Plan A for selling the place continues smoothly on track. But Plan B is required for moving and storage of the goods we just couldn’t part with. No problem. We’re getting it done. But… really spicy. Yup, I’m regularly checking my pulse.

After twenty-one delightful years, we are indeed selling our wonderful home that is sorely under-utilized—our only remaining piece of real estate, our condo in Paradise on the gulf coast of Florida. If you’d find a 3D virtual tour amusing, click here. I did a screen grab from the realtor’s website before the listing disappears.

This is a new ingredient for Kay and me since we bought our first house over half a century ago—in 1973. We’ll once again hit the big slab (the Interstates) in our trusty old bus, but this time, with no sticks ‘n bricks (or steel-reinforced concrete) bunker to fall back on. Like the itinerant vagabonds our souls tell us we still can and should be, while we’re still able.

Now, when someone now asks for our home address, or even more ridiculously, our permanent address, after snickering with childish delight, we truly will respond, “wherever we decide to park the bus tonight. But mañana? All bets are off!”

This raises a few interesting questions of many yet to be asked:

• What will be our state of residence for purposes of paying (or not paying) state income tax?
• Will we be able to retain our Florida residency (no state income tax) if we no longer own a house here?
• Where will we register to vote?
• Where will we license our motorhome and our toad (that is, the Jeep we tow behind the bus)?
• Blah de blah….

Now, our friends who have been “full-timers” for years will coach us through this new chapter as we write it. But we’ve always had that safety net, “the house” with its very own address.

The only “permanent” address we’ll have now is that of our mail forwarding service. And it truly is amazing how many entities in our life expect us to have a “permanent address!”

Exciting, and different. A new chapter! A new ingredient in our recipe. And yes, I AM the master of the mixed metaphor!

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Oh, hey!

If you happen to find yourself in Perry, Georgia mid March 2023, I’ll be presenting a couple of my creative writing seminars at the mammoth Family Motor Coach Association’s International Convention.

I’ll also be teaching this topic and others on writing, publishing, the anatomy of the murder mystery genre, etc, in Rochester, Minnesota this summer starting in early June.

That’s all for now.

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So, until next time… and wherever you and I are, my friend…

Happy 2023 to you and yours!

Grateful for a few more trips around the sun,

Gene