Rick DeStefanis

Category: Life and Other Odds & Ends

  • New knees, Books, etc.

     

    June Newsletter

    Greetings to my faithful readers, fellow veterans, and anyone willing to share a few minutes of their time with me. This newsletter/blog post will update you on my writing efforts and other matters relating to my books. I apologize for not writing sooner or more often, but another knee replacement (the glory of too many impacts with the ground while with the 82nd Airborne) has slowed me somewhat. Yes, an eighteen-year-old will do some crazy things.

    First, I wish to provide a clarification on the Rawlins Saga. Several reviewers have referred to it as a “spin-off of the Yellowstone 1883 Series.” That’s quite understandable. After all, two of the primary characters in Taylor Sheridan’s 1883 story are a Confederate Civil War veteran and his wife who lead a wagon train of immigrants westward. Sound familiar? There are other striking similarities, but it’s incorrect to say the Rawlins Saga is a spin-off of that series, because while Yellowstone 1883 was first shown in 2021, Rawlins books #1 and #2 were published in 2018 and 2019 respectively. I like to think if there was a spin-off, it was Yellowstone 1883. But enough of that business. If that’s the case, I’m glad I could help them out.

    Some of you may have noticed a shuffling (so to speak) of my books into three newly named series. First The Rawlins Trilogy, since it is now four books with a fifth planned, is now The Rawlins Saga. The Vietnam War Series has been divided into two series. The first, (A Soldier’s Heart—Combat in Vietnam) includes the five books whose stories are told as they occurred during the war. The second series (Rising from the Ashes—Battles Beyond Vietnam) are those mostly told from a veteran’s post-war perspective and include Raeford’s MVP, The Birdhouse Man, and Miss Molly’s Final Mission. My Southern novel, Tallahatchie, remains out there by itself.

    And lastly, several readers have asked about the next book. The one I previously mentioned was to be in the Soldier’s Heart Series, but that plan has been dropped due to complications beyond my control. The next book will be in the Rawlins Saga, and I will write more about it in the next newsletter.
    Thanks for reading and writing your reviews of my books. I truly appreciate your comments and enjoy reading them. They keep me wanting to write. I’ll try to get the next newsletter out a little sooner, and until next time if you recieved this update via email and want to see a complete list of all my available books, click the button below, and it will take you to the website.
    Best Wishes,

    Rick

     

  • God Pokes

    I’ve never been much of a Bible thumper—always kept my relationship with God on a somewhat personal basis. And if you’re a Marx or Nietzsche fan you probably don’t want to read this, but in the past couple weeks, God has poked me several times—not in a bad way, but he has gotten my attention. A firm believer in ‘free-will,’ I adhere to the belief that much of what we experience is not the direct intervention of God but the result of our own choices. He just lays the ground rules of cause and effect.

    On the other hand, I do believe on occasion God brings about occurrences in peoples’ lives that are often explained as “amazingly coincidental” …or maybe not. It’s not that these things haven’t happened on rare occasions in the past, but four times since just before the first of the year, I’ve been the recipient of messages from angels.

    First this prologue is necessary: After six months of misery from knee replacement surgery last year, I swore to myself the I would not do the same on the other knee, although the doctor said this other knee is as bad or worse. I took arthritis meds, and for several months it seemed to be under control. As the already scheduled date for the second surgery approached, I planned to cancel it.

    That’s when God poked me the first time, leaving me with a new level of agony in my knee. I couldn’t walk. A few days later, the surgeon’s office called to confirm, and the scheduled surgery now remains on the calendar. Sure, it might be a lucky coincidence but read on for God-poke number two.

    Determined to go deer hunting at least once this season, I drove with a friend to a relatively remote area well before daylight the day after New Years. Far out in the Coldwater River bottoms, I attempted to back my pickup down a steep embankment but got off the gravel and jack-knifed the ATV trailer on the grassy slope. At five o’clock in the morning we were looking at a ruined deer hunt and an expensive towing fee, if we could even get one to come out there. That’s when we spotted headlights coming. Remember, we were in the middle of nowhere!

    We were so far below the crest of the levee we didn’t have time to signal, but the driver of a white pickup truck stopped and shouted down at us, asking if we needed help. Producing a tow chain, a young man in his mid-twenties, hooked to us and pulled us out in a couple minutes. When I asked what we could give him, he said nothing. I asked his name.

    “Micky,” he said.

    He climbed in his truck and drove away. My friend asked, “Where did he come from?”

    “God,” I said.

    Two days later I went to visit an elderly friend in a nursing home who was having physical therapy for a stroke. I have had extensive physical therapy several times and have had no qualms with my therapists. Most have been very good, but the woman who was working with my friend was exceptional, especially since he asks lots of questions. This young woman patiently answered them all, while working with him. She did so in a way I found unusual in that she talked to him as if they were best friends but in a very professional manner. Head and shoulders above any I’ve ever met, I asked her name before she departed.

    “Micky,” she said.

    Just yesterday, God poked me a fourth time. I needed to purchase an exercise-cycle to use after the upcoming knee surgery and found one for sale locally. I was on my way to buy it when my cell phone rang. It was another friend who I hadn’t spoken with in six or eight months. It was a “butt-dial” he apologetically explained. We talked and I told him where I was going. He said he had an exercise-cycle he would give me for free. I give you my word, all of this is true.

    Now, while on a roll like this one, I got to thinking perhaps I should take my two-hundred dollars and make the hour-long drive down to the casino at Tunica. But when I woke up today there was six inches of snow on the ground, and it was still coming down. Do you know when the last time it snowed six inches in Mississippi? And, no, we don’t have snowplows in Mississippi—and there’s no casino trip in my immediate future. God has such a wonderful sense of humor.

    By the way, the next Vietnam Series novel should be out sometime this spring. I’ll let you know when it’s available for pre-buy on Amazon. Meanwhile, here’s the link to my Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/stores/Rick-DeStefanis/author/B00H2YO2SS

    I look forward to your comments. 

    Rick

  • Kill a Cow–Save the Planet!

    I try to focus my posts on odds and ends, entertaining asides, stuff about writing, positive things, whatever, but seldom do I delve into politics. This will be a first for my Author’s blog right here at www.rickdestefanis.com. With this post, I’m stepping off into some deep stuff all the way up to my eyeballs. Normally, I avoid arguing with the irrational. Afterall, who’s the bigger fool—the fool or he who argues with a fool? My hand is up. Ooogh, ooogh, pick me, teacher!

    This is my Alamo! I am standing my ground! I will no longer remain silent. So, here it is, my rant on the elite experts (and I use that term with great sarcasm) who would have us eat bugs and such, so that we might stop climate change by eliminating herds of farting cattle—excuse me, I mean cattle emitting greenhouse gases.

    Let’s start with NYC Mayor Eric Adams who told New Yorkers they should eliminate meat and dairy products from their diets to save the planet. Now, we know Mayor Eric isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but like some powerful liberal leaders, you don’t have to be the sharpest tool if you’re the biggest hoe. Never mind. Strike that from the record. Mayor Eric ain’t no hoe. Besides, it’s tacky. Oh, but I digress. Back to the rant at hand.

    Some idiot Harvard professor basically said the same thing when he said our domestic cattle herds, dairy herds, and other such groups of four-legged grass-munchers are contributing significantly to greenhouse emissions, insinuating that they must be regulated. Yes, another governmental buracracy is in the works, the CFC–the cow farting commision. I can no longer remian silent, and therefore must challenge this Harvard half-wit with my argument.

    You see, I’m from the South, and I have three vices, blondes, bourbon, and fried chicken. The first two are discussions for another time. I’m going to focus on the fried chicken—the mountaintop of southern cuisine. Okay, maybe one of them. It’s sort of like the Tetons in the Rockies. You know–like Mount Barbeque, or Mount Ribeye, but fried chicken is like Grand Teton. But wait! Do chickens fart? Never mind. I’m being tacky again. Strike that from the record. But remember, mess with our fried chicken at your own risk.

    Let’s look at it from a more logical standpoint. What about hundreds of thousands of Wildebeests and such roaming the African Serengeti? Should we kill them all? What about the same numbers of caribou and reindeer roaming the Artic? Start killing those reindeer, and God help us if one of ’em is named Rudolph—just sayin’. And think about the elephant and water buffalo herds in Africa and India? If such expert logic is accepted, the disappearance of thousands of elk and bison that once roamed the eastern US should have resulted in an ice age of sorts—right? Just sayin’. I mean the argument is based on a Fauchi-like science that invites such counter-reasoning until I can’t help myself. Are we being greenhouse gas-lighted? Okay, I can carry my depravity only so far. Thank you for letting me vent.