Sue Merrell's Blog: Laughing for a Living, page 14

     
      We lit a candle for peace today at Grandville United Methodist Church, as part of the advent celebration. Christians have been doing the same thing for centuries, but sometimes it seems like it isn't working. It seems like the hate mongers are much louder than the quiet peacemakers. 
      "Pray for Peace," said pastor Tom Pier-Fitzgerald. But that's not all. He suggested we attend a Unity in the Face of Fear rally Monday at First United Methodist Church. Maybe it's time the peace makers were a little noisier.
       People of all faiths are encouraged to gather in the church parking lot, 227 E. Fulton, at 5:30 p.m.  Speakers from various faiths will talk about treating all people with love and respect, instead of spewing hate. Fear chips away at peace; unity can help rebuild relationships.
      Join us.

      
       No one should ever become famous for shooting innocent people. There should be no prize for terrorism. Yet it happens all the time.
       Sixteen years after the massacre at Columbine High School, most of us could name the pair of misguided teens who killed 12 students and one teacher. But how many of us remember the name of one victim?
        It's happening again with the San Bernadino shooting. We read every detail about the two shooters, who I refuse to name, but much less about the 14 victims. People like environmental health specialist Robert Adams or mapping expert Hal Bowman. Or Issac Amanios who immigrated to America from Eritrea; Vietnamese refugee Tin Nguyen or persecuted Iranian Christian Bennetta Betbadal.
         You can blame the media, but the media provides information on both the shooters and the victims. It's just easier, and maybe perversely more interesting, to talk about the shooters. We can change that. 
          Quick: who was responsible for the slaughter at the Alamo in 1836?. A few Jeopardy players may remember the Mexican general, but all of us "Remember the Alamo." You may not know the names of all the victims who died there, and you may have some misconceptions from the movie versions, but the focus is always on the victims. "Remember the Alamo" became a call to action, not because of the media reports but because of the public groundswell.
         It's a behavior modification technique every mother knows. Ignore bad behavior, praise the good. Don't give shooters the attention they crave. 

        
Every year the Nobel Peace Prize, which is being awarded Thursday in Oslo, honors some of the world's outstanding peacemakers. This year the recipients are three men and one woman from Tunisia who helped to save their country from civil war and collapse in 2013. These four -- Houcine Abbassi, Wided Bouchamaoui, Abdessatar Ben Moussa and Fadhel Mahfoudh -- aren't politicians or government leaders. They are business people, leaders of four non-government organizations -- a labor union, an employers' association, a human rights organization and the bar association. It wasn't their job to broker peace in their country. But they did it. Peace is everybody's job.
           Afterwards, they were nicknamed the Tunisian National Dialogue Quartet. Dialogue. What beautiful music this quartet makes.
           

      
Peace on Earth is the promise of Christmas. It's the elusive gift everyone asks for.
       Yet it remains a puzzle.
        As the final days of 2015 wind down, this is the topic I want to think about, talk about. So I will share little pieces of peace as they come my way.
        Just the other day I heard on the radio that the two-finger V for victory sign -- which my generation kidnapped in the '60s and renamed the peace sign -- actually dates to the 1200s. The longbow, which was the atomic weapon of the period, helped the English fight off the French during the Hundred Years War. When the enemy captured an archer  they would cut off his first two fingers so he could never pull back a bow string again. So if a person held up those two fingers it was a victory. His fingers had survived.
         It's a beginning. We still have our fingers. We can choose to use those fingers to aim arrows at our foes or we can offer a sign of peace. Choose peace.

          
Don't you love how every day has it's own title: Black Friday, Cyber Monday and now Small Business Saturday? 
            No business is smaller than the independent author. Authors are always gathering at book fairs and farmers' markets, selling their wares and signing books for soon-to-be fans. Several West Michigan authors will gather Thursday night for the third annual Holiday Book Bash in Spring Lake.
            Unfortunately I can't make the Book Bash this year because I'm reviewing "Dogfight" at Actors' Theatre. (Community theater, talk about a small business that needs your support!)
            I am offering a book special for the holidays: A nifty set of  all three Jordan Daily News Mysteries for $29.95. That's 40 percent off the usual retail price of purchasing the books separately. You can give the trio to one mystery fan, or divide them up among three names on your list. And if you live in the Grand Rapids area, I can probably arrange delivery, so postage and handling won't eat up all your savings. To order, email [email protected].
             Service with a smile. Just one of the benefits of dealing with a small business.

           
I don't honestly remember the Red Ryder Carbine Action BB Gun, but the world of Ralphie Parker and "The Christmas Story" feels like home to me. Grand Rapids Civic Theatre's stage production, which continues through Dec. 20,  is even funnier than the 1983 movie..
              But the best part is the innocence.
               My brothers had lots of toy guns. Westerns were the icons of 1950s television, so we always played shoot 'em up. If somebody didn't have shiny Lone Ranger pistols, they would pretend with a twig or a finger. But we were never scared of guns. Never imagined that someone would actually use one to hurt another person.
              Dad and my brothers always went hunting on Thanksgiving morning while the turkey baked. It seemed right. I remember frozen rabbit packed in cardboard milk cartons in the freezer. My brothers would tote their shotguns with them when they walked to a friend's house and no one ever called the police. Why would they?
             When I became a mom, my son was in the Star Wars generation. They fought with light sabers. Some of my friends banned their children from having toy guns. But kids still played shoot 'em up with a twig or a finger, and couldn't imagine guns really hurting anybody.
             And then something changed. Somebody brought guns to school. Real guns. And people were killed. In schools, in movie theaters,  at fast food restaurants.  And our innocence was gone.
            You can't take a water pistol to school anymore. And I'm sure a kid carrying a shotgun would be considered a community threat in most of today's neighborhoods.
             You can blame political correctness or the NRA or "lousy libs." But we aren't in Indiana anymore...at least not Raphie Parker's Indiana.
            

         
To be honest, the city lights below us didn't look any more familiar than all the glittering webs of light we had flown over during the hour flight from Washington DC to Grand Rapids, MI. But when the gear hit the runway I breathed a sigh of relief. I was home.
          It felt so comforting as we taxied from the runway to the terminal because I knew exactly where I had left my car. It was already dark, but I knew what roads to take home. And most importantly, I knew the Sunday evening traffic would be negligible.
          I don't know if you've visited our nation's capital lately but the traffic there is horrendous. There's a gridlock on the Interstates that rivals the impasse in the Congress. (hmm, wonder if that's related?) It's nothing new. I lived in Richmond, Va., more than 30 years ago and Interstate 95 from Richmond to D.C. was a 90-mile parking lot then. It hasn't improved.
          I wasn't surprised that it took two and a half hours to drive the 50 miles from Dulles to Fredericksburg for my nephew's wedding, though it was a little frustrating that a simple three-mile drive from the hotel to the wedding could take 30 minutes on a Saturday afternoon. I started the return trip at 1 p.m. Sunday. It was as bad as any rush hour. Solid back up. I probably covered 10 miles by 2 p.m. My plane was leaving at 5:20 so I did something rash. I headed off-grid. My printed map of Virginia was sketchy and my GPS was drunk, or at least a little tipsy, imagining roads that simply weren't there.
         Nevertheless, I headed away from the Interstate, going northwest in the general direction of Dulles. I asked the GPS to take me to Manassas, and I was afraid there for a while that I might never get there. The roads kept getting narrower and more winding. State routes turned into barely paved country roads. But once I came out in Manassas the roads finally looked normal. Busy but not frozen. I had no trouble following the signs for the airport and was ecstatic to have avoided the paralyzing traffic on I-95 and the Beltway.
         I got to the airport in plenty of time. The plane was oversold and the agent kept trying to entice someone to give up their seat. First she offered $400 plus hotel, dinner and another flight to GR the next day. Then the offer went up to $500, $600, $700.  I considered it because my Monday commitments were light and it might be fun to have an extra day to see the Newseum in DC. But just thinking about all that traffic. There simply isn't enough money on earth to make that worthwhile. 

     
My nephew is getting married Saturday so everybody in the family is flying to Virginia on Friday. Everybody except me, that is. I'm flying on Thursday. If you didn't notice, Friday is the 13th. I'm not really superstitious,  but why take chances?
      Besides, after writing a wild and crazy book like Full Moon Friday , I have a healthy respect for Friggatriskaidekaphobia.
      If you'd like to read a fast-paced mystery about all the things that can go wrong when the full moon coincides with Friday the 13th, here's your chance. The Kindle version of Full Moon Friday will be 99 cents on Friday in honor of the auspicious date. Reduced prices continue through the weekend and return to the regular price of $3.99 on Monday, Nov. 16.
       Friday the 13th could be your lucky day!

      
        This Friday night's  "Trail of Michigan Authors" is an ambitious collection of 50 local authors at one bookstore -- Barnes and Noble Booksellers in Muskegon.
        Maybe it's my dyslexia acting up, but every time I see the title of this event I imagine 50 Michigan authors  on TRIAL. And I guess in a way that's what a book-signing is, a trial of authors where the readers are the judge and jury. The author has a chance to testify and present evidence. The reader decides whether an author is guilty of writing a book that sounds too interesting to pass up -- or a book that would be the perfect gift for someone on the Christmas list. .
        And with 50 authors lining the aisles of the store, it should be the TRIAL of the century.
         Order in the court. Order in the court. The trial...ah, trail....is about to begin!

         Halloween is high season for the Jordan Daily News Mysteries. I just finished the Night at the Bookman author event in Grand Haven and next week I'm headed to the Trail of Michigan Authors at Muskegon's Barnes and Noble. 
           But it is hard to say which of my mysteries is the spookiest.  Great News Town is the bloodiest by far, considering 14 people get murdered. And the fact that it was inspired by actual events, makes it even more horrifying.
          One Shoe Off is the closest to ghosts and goblins. City Editor Josie Braun is haunted by the spirit of Zelda Machinko, another newspaper editor who disappeared 30 years before leaving only a shoe behind. 
           Full Moon Friday is a monsoon of madness when the unexplainable influence of a full moon collides with the bad luck superstitions of Friday the 13th. Eerie!
           I suggest you start with the blood bath of Great News Town for a horrifying Halloween. Get a copy of One Shoe Off   signed in Muskegon next Friday. And you should be just about ready for Full Moon Friday when Friday the 13th strikes in two weeks!