The Box

We recently switched to Uverse from Dish, at first I was reluctant to do it because of the hassle but Clyde wanted the bundle that included a faster internet.  I'm glad we did it, Uverse offers me many more channels that regularly show reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer as opposed to the no channels on Dish, so I'm ecstatic.

Other than that, it is the same old, same old; 57 channels and nothing's on said the poet-philosopher Bruce Springsteen.  Except that I have roughly 150 channels programmed as favorites, that would be three times the potential for entertainment, and still nothing is on.

That's an exaggeration of course, but only a small one from my perspective.  Last night I was chatting with one of my Twitter friends who was asking about the merits of Zero Hour.  Media Whore Ed, who is doing his best to move and shake in the Hollywood Fishbowl, and I both lamented the lack of good scripted television these days. We both watch a lot of reality programs, which is what brought us together, a mutual like of Survivor, but it seems that neither one of us would mind a juicy drama to dig into.

I am happy to see Survivor back, but my rule of thumb is to watch Probst at Tribal; I don't get interested until he does and so far, Probst is not.  I am actually following my very first Survivor, @MattBischoff is a cool one thus far, but if Jonathan Penner had a Twitter, I would have been on that train already.  The Amazing Race is back too, and thankfully with less obnoxious stunt casting this time around.  Thank you for that producers of the Amazing Race, you were really trying my patience.

One could argue that my standards are too high; but I will argue back that boredom is not a standard, it is a demon to be fought back into the depths of the hell from whence it came.  I'm not 'too good' for these shows, I am bored by these shows; mostly because I've seen them all before.  Usually done better.

Here's the problem with television, and every form of creative entertainment: there are too many outlets and not enough product.  If this seems reminiscent of one of my earlier blog posts, it's because the message is the same.

If you don't have anything of interest to say, please shut up.

Too many dogs are fighting for the same meager scraps and no one is getting a full belly as a result.  That is why there are so many stupid new reality shows about white trash families, Bigfoot hunters, small town security inbreds and that major idiot who humps trees every time he digs up a 12 year old coin.  No, I'm not watching any of that; I watch The Soup every Wednesday night for the digest version.

There are too many news outlets, so they have to create news; there are too many sports outlets, so they have to create sports; there are too many freaking educational channels and THEY are even making stuff up now.

And don't get uppity book people, snubbing your nose at the masses while pontificating about the sanctity of the written word.  Snooki published a book.  A book with words.  Snooki.

If you are looking to start your own media empire, here is some advice from me:  Empires are not built on landfills, if you erect your house on garbage, the garbage will become your house.  Good shows need time and promotion to find an audience, that has not changed since the entertainment industry was founded, but the current climate of immediacy makes everyone afraid to commit.

If you don't commit, why the hell should we?

Another Buffy reference, but a very important one.  The CW allowed Joss Whedon the time and freedom to find the people that they knew where out there.  That time paid off in a big way and birthed a critical and commercial success.  Fox, on the other hand, did not allow Joss Whedon the time and freedom to develop Firefly, which could have been bigger than the X Files for them.

No, they wouldn't support Firefly, but they threw money at the piece of crap that was Dollhouse?  Shockingly shortsighted.  Fox didn't have the patience to let their calf grow up and screwed themselves out of the cow's milk.  Oh yeah, and they took that milk away from a lot of thirsty folks.

Alright TV execs, we see how desperate you are to get our attention, you are practically hyper-ventilating and nothing turns a person off like desperation.  It's the first rule of dating, no?  So calm down and think things through, think long-term and set the bar a little higher for yourselves.  Be a maverick, set the trends, don't follow them because people respond very well to mavericks.

WANDERER Part 22

Golden

Zurak stood on a boulder near camp with Oshi in her arms and watched the shifting play of brilliant colors on the clouds as the sun set.  It was cold outside, almost mid-winter, but they were both warm in their furs and they now lived around a cluster of hot springs, so no snow had crept up on the tribe.  She could not name all the colors that she saw, but Zurak tried her best as she taught her son the Wanderer words for crimson, orange, yellow and purple.

Oshi was not yet two and still burbled more than talked, but it was the way of the Wanderers and Zurak had been telling him everything she knew.  The sunsets in the Golden Land were beautiful, it was a land that overflowed with beauty; so much so that it gleamed beneath any light that shined.  Zurak had traveled many years, she had explored with great care and, despite seeing so many variations of glory, still reveled in the new treasures that the Golden Land contained.

There were mighty rivers everywhere, some were wide and slow moving, tinged in dark green and hiding evil demons beneath their placid surfaces.  Others rushed furiously through canyons and over rocks, frothy white, churning madly in the spring melt and consuming all in their paths.  There were rolling foothills that burst out into seas of color when the winter passed and turned golden brown as the rain stopped falling; there were wide valleys full of birds and tall reeds swaying in the breeze.

It was a land full of trees and animals, a land of plenty and it had welcomed Zurak.  There had been challenges, many challenges and every day she had had to protect and feed herself with no help.  But there had always been food, there had always been some shelter and there had been Taeyo.  Much had been taken away from Zurak when her family died in the shipwreck, but much had been given in return.

Her vision the night of the Zonate ritual was never far from Zurak’s mind though, it was what had brought the tribe here.  Elune had taken Zurak past a series of landmarks until they reached an enormous cave near the base of a smoking mountain.  The geyser had been pointing in this direction and that was all Zurak really had to offer as proof, but everything else she had seen in the vision, she had seen with her waking eyes too.

Everything but the cave itself, Zurak’s memory of that was blurry and she only remembered that it was very, very big with a stream running through it and three chambers.  The Well of Provenance was in the last chamber and it had to be claimed for Elune, so that she would be bound to the Golden Land and not her sister.  But surely something so big must be very easy to find, Zurak had been confident of that.

She was still confident, but it was wavering now and then as days went by.  The men could only go out and look when the weather was favorable, it had been a mild winter so far but that could always change quickly.  They had built a strong shelter and had plenty of food for the winter, so there was no danger; and there was always plenty to do around camp.  Zurak spent her days tending the fires, cooking, weaving and all the other necessities of life while Churashom and the stronger men went looking for the cave.

They were usually back within two days and Zurak was lingering on the rock in the hopes that she would hear Churashom coming up the path.  He had left early the previous morning and Zurak very much preferred sleeping next to his warm body with their son cradled between them.   Her ears caught the light crunching of snow under feet, Zurak called out and was greeted by Churashom’s voice.

Oshi reached out for his father as soon as he came into view and Zurak scrambled off the boulder to meet the explorers.  They were all smiling broadly, especially Churashom as he held his arms out to both of them.

“We found you a very big gold rock for Elune,” he said taking Zurak into his arms and squeezing her.

The other three men laughed, Zurak looked over Churashom’s shoulder to see his brother Nohalik holding a large rock streaked with layers of gold and white crystals. 

“We found it in a very big cave for Elune,” Nohalik offered.

WANDERER Part 21

All Academic

The irony of CaveWomen hitting the lecture circuit was that many of their venues were in colleges and universities.  Most of the presentations involved multi-media views of past expeditions with an emphasis on social media involvement, so they had become very popular with students.  Many faculty members usually turned up too, and most were fans, but a few came in to the lectures trying to stir up trouble.

Those were Tass’ favorites, and Pet saw that familiar gleam in her best friend’s eyes as Tass stepped into the microphone.  The fool had groused that the CaveWomen were ‘putting foolish thoughts’ into impressionable young minds and demanded that Pet and Tass explain themselves.

“Weeeellll,” Tass started leisurely, “we don’t think that putting thoughts into heads is wrong.  New thoughts are why all these kids enrolled at your fine school and any teacher worth his tenure that objects to thoughts that aren’t his own might want to reconsider being a thought-master and get over himself.”  The audience chuckled at Tass’ smug smile as she finished by leaning way over the podium and saying, “Just some food.  For thought.”

Pet briefly considered doing the humane thing and feeling sorry for the professor, but she was always uncomfortable in the spotlight and just wanted the lecture to be over.  Tass might be the face and voice of CaveWomen, but Pet was its heart and soul.  Pet was the one with the facts, figures and theories, so she brought the wood, but it was always Tass who brought the fire.  The lectures were very profitable too, and the money earned from them helped to fund CaveWomen’s grammar school presentations which were always done for free.

So in many ways, Pet had gone to college like Ray had wanted; she just did not do it the way her father had anticipated.  But she knew he would have been proud of her, she could imagine the look in his eyes from seeing the same look in Araceli’s.  Tass’ mother was extremely proud of both women; she had been running the business-y end of CaveWomen since its inception and attended as many lectures as she could.  Araceli was in the audience for this lecture at U.C. Davis, bouncing Chuy’s youngest on her knee.

Chuy Romero had cleaned up his act several years ago after an especially long stint in jail.  Tass paid his tuition at a trade school and now her big brother had a wife, two kids, a steady job and relieved mother.  Chuy was quite proud of his little sister too, both his little sisters for that matter, and Petra’s Glyphs had a very small, very unlikely hardcore fan base of aircraft mechanics.

The lecture was drawing to a close now, Tass was telling the audience where to find them online and directing them to the merchandise table where they could buy books and T shirts.  It would be at least another hour before they got out of the auditorium since many of the audience members wanted to shake their hands and talk a bit.  Usually, it was Tass they wanted to meet, but a few of the quieter ones always made sure to seek out Pet and tell her that they wished they were brave like her.

Tass was happily holding court surrounded by about twenty people while Pet gathered up the lecture materials, a couple of girls approached Pet and she even signed an autograph. The man on the fringes of the crowd kept catching Pet’s eye, he didn’t look much older than her except for his pure white hair.  His face was not heavily lined with wrinkles and his posture suggested a very fit body, so she wondered if the white hair was natural.

Out of nowhere, the man winked slyly at Pet and grinned as he took a few steps toward her, extending his hand.  “Thirty seven,” he said by way of introduction.

“I..I’m,” Pet stumbled before recovering gracefully, “huh?”

He laughed, “I’m not an old man, saw you staring at my wandering white.”  The man shook Pet’s hand firmly, which made her feel odd, and said, “Walker Keel.”

Pet realized she was still holding his hand and dropped it quickly, a bit flustered, saying, “I’m Pet, Pet Brazil thank you for coming to the lecture.”  That sounded very lame to her ears for some reason and there was a tiny awkward silence, so she rushed to ask, “What is wandering white?”

Walker laughed again, he had a very nice smile and it seemed as though the laughter came very easily to him.  “Just something my crazy aunt Ro used to say, folks in my family go white early, Auntie always called it the wandering white.”

Pet did not know what to say, but she really wanted to say something to Walker, to keep the conversation going for some reason.  Finally she asked, “Did you enjoy the lecture?

“Very much,” Walker replied, “although I am very new to this, I didn’t even know about you until last week.”

“What happened last week?”  Pet was curious.

“My father in law died,” he said with a sadness creeping into his green eyes.  “Former father in law anyway, he was a good man, an eccentric man.”  Walker then looked directly into Pet’s eyes, “He was a big fan of yours,” he said and held out a manila envelope.

“What’s this?”  Pet could not actually be less interested in the contents of that envelope at that time, all she wanted was to talk to this man for hours.  She then remembered her manners and rushed to say, “I’m so sorry for your loss by the way.”

“Thanks,” he replied softly, “my ex asked me to help out with his estate, which is what brought me here.  We needed to know that you were on the level, Amos could be a little trusting.”

Pet’s head snapped up at the sound of that name, “Amos is a great name, he must have been a great man, your father in law.”

Walker nodded, “He was, in his own way and I’m going to miss him.  Amos found something a while ago, I think he meant to get in touch with you but, well,” Walker quieted for a moment, “well, Amos got distracted easily.  I guess that ‘s the best way to put it.”

All of a sudden Pet realized that this was one of those moments, one of those defining moments in life and her definition was in that battered manila envelope.  That familiar pounding in her chest had been there since Walker Keel smiled at her; her hands were shaking as she opened the envelope and saw the photos.

All the blood drained from Pet’s face and she even swayed a little, prompting Walker to swoop in gallantly and steady her.  Tass had stopped talking, she was staring at Pet with concern as was her coterie of admirers.  Pet slowly pulled one of the photos all the way out, it was a rune; it was her rune but not just that, not by a fair distance.

Tass broke away from her crowd to come look over Pet’s shoulder and was quiet for several long moments.  Tass then said the one thing they were both thinking, the only thing that could sum up this unexpected treasure,” Holy shit fuck!”

Tough Enough

There are a couple of themes that arc through the series of books I am writing, one of which is very much on my mind today.  I have been putting this post off all day because it is the hardest one to write so far and I wish things were different.

But I don't want to live in wish land, and the people around me know that I prefer the truth, bitter though it may be.

Several people have read The Last Prospector by now, not a huge amount, but enough opinions that I really trust have come back.  The really great news is that they all love the story so far, they are loving the characters and how things flow.  This is a huge relief to me, they are loving about the story exactly what I love about the story and are encouraging me to give them more.

But those same people are also telling me something else, that their enjoyment in reading the book is diminished by technical errors and I have made a decision.  The Last Prospector is being removed from Amazon channels effective earlier today, I had Clyde do it, it was like slaughtering a child and I couldn't make myself press the buttons.

But those buttons needed pressing, it is the only fair thing to do.  The story is too good to be saddled with amateurish errors and it's a disrespect to book, author and reader to let it go forward as it is.

About that theme I mentioned at the beginning; good things are born from bad things all the time.  Obstacles only serve to make us smarter, tougher, more resilient and more clever than before, so this is not a defeat.  It is a tactical retreat, it's time to regroup and make a new plan, a more informed plan this time.

I have learned a lot - and I still need to keep educating myself - so it is time to stop playing at this and do it right.  Big changes will be coming, The Last Prospector will be back soon and perhaps released in tandem with the second book.  We'll see, I'm not deciding anything today except that it is time to start making good decisions.

I need to thank everyone who has been supporting the book so far, they've been sharing my tweets and blog posts and I appreciate all of them.  And I am still here for them, and you; I'm not going anywhere but I am deleting yesterday's post about needing readers.  Thanks to all who responded and shared, I hope I haven't let you down.

WANDERER Part 20

Brother Bear

The sun was beating down on Zurak as she lugged the heavy basket through the field of brown grasses towards the grouping of rocks near the tree line.  Churashom had offered to help her, had wanted to come with her, but Zurak knew this would be hard enough.  She did not want her husband to see her tears, but Zurak had to be brave because this needed to be done.

The baby swelling in her belly was Zurak’s first priority now and she was part of a family again, a real family of people.  Churashom’s tribe had welcomed the Wanderer; they thought her an animal shaman or powerful priestess even though Zurak had told them otherwise.  But they treated her with respect and affection, especially since she had chosen Churashom for a mate over three men from other tribes.

Thankfully, the group of rocks was already in the shade of a fragrant evergreen tree; Zurak put her basket down gently before sitting down in the shade for a brief rest.  She was not sure how to do this, but everyone knew it was for the best.  It was best for her new family and it was best for Taeyo now that he was fully grown.  Zurak kept her ears peeled for the sounds of predators, even though she knew her bear was not far off; the basket of food would attract many interested noses.

At first it was very difficult to spend time with the new people, they were afraid of Taeyo and Zurak would have to wait until the bear was off hunting to go and visit.  Churashom was the only one brave enough to actually come to their little cave, but even he kept a safe distance from the bear at all times.  But he did keep coming back, bringing her gifts of food and clothing, teaching Zurak his language and watching as she made her carvings in the rock walls.

The tribe had been moving south, but part of Zurak’s wedding arrangement was that the tribe would help her find the Well of Provenance.  None of the elders of the tribes believed such a cave existed, that they would know of it already; but Zurak was a Wanderer and a child of Elune.  She would marry no one, she would stay alone if that was the only way to fulfill her quest.

The people of the Golden Land thought Wanderers to be special, lucky even, so Churashom’s family had agreed to stay.  But there was one condition, a condition that Zurak could not argue with and that condition had brought her to the rocks with a basket full of food.  She had to say good bye to Taeyo, Zurak had to let him go.

There was a tiny fluttering in her midsection; Zurak instinctively placed her hand over it as though to calm her unborn child.  The baby had only recently quickened inside her; those tiny movements always made Zurak smile and try to imagine what her baby would look like.  Churashom was hoping for a strong boy with pure white hair even though his wife was dubious about that.  Zurak knew that the white hair was the first thing to go when a Wanderer married into the families of monkey people. 

The white hair would always come eventually to those who had Wanderer blood in their veins though, it would creep up on them as they aged to show the truth of their ancestry. Zurak wanted her son to have Churashom’s bravery and her faith in Elune, other than that, she did not care what her baby looked like.  But she did care about her little brother not eating her child, it was a very real concern so Zurak pulled her body up from the ground and began to make a clicking sound with her mouth.

She had not actually seen Taeyo in two months, the bear roamed around the area where the tribe was settled and would call out to Zurak from time to time.  She would always drop everything and answer the summons, but each time there was less familiarity in the bear’s eyes, less recognition somehow.  But Taeyo had grown into a strong bear, he was twice Zurak’s size now and his pelt showed the signs of a few fights.  The last time he had called out to Zurak, Taeyo had been badly wounded; she had been salving his worst wounds when the bear unexpectedly took a swipe at her.

That was the night the tribe decided that Zurak must end her relationship with the bear, she had been badly wounded by the swipe and it was time to part ways.  Zurak’s new father Mohiwalip had gently explained to the Wanderer that Taeyo had his own destiny now.  She had cried bitterly but not argued, Mohiwalip was right because Taeyo was never going to be anything but a wild animal.

But she wanted to say goodbye, Zurak knew in her heart that there was enough recognition left, enough love left between them for Taeyo to give her that.  Her nose picked up Taeyo’s rank smell well before her eyes and ears could find him and Zurak pulled the berries from her basket.  She called out to Taeyo as she arranged a pile of plump berries on the far end of the rock and waited.

It was just a few minutes before a shaggy golden brown head appeared from around the trees; Taeyo’s nose was twitching towards the berries but he kept his eyes on Zurak.  She could see the struggle behind those brown eyes, Taeyo was trying to remember why he shouldn't eat her and it was a struggle he was losing.  Zurak began to sing, it was a lullaby that her mother would always sing and a sound that always comforted the bear.

Taeyo relaxed at Zurak’s soothing tones, his eyes glowed with happy love for her as he shambled to the rock to stuff berries in his maw.  Zurak kept singing as she produced two enormous fish followed by a hunk of venison and a comb dripping with honey.  Taeyo grunted and growled happily as he consumed the feast, the blood and honey matting down the fur around his muzzle, with the happiness of a sated bear.

Zurak sat on the rock and watched her brother devour his farewell feast, she remembered that first day when she sat on a rock and watched the little cub eat her fish and felt the salt tears stinging her eyes again.  Taeyo finished off all the food, including licking the honey off of the rocks, before he sat down heavily on his haunches and stared at her.

The silence between them grew thick and heavy as Zurak stared sadly at Taeyo, he grunted softly and reached out with one paw as he regarded her with a cocked head.  She reached out with her paw too and asked gently, “You see it as well, don’t you?”

Zurak moved a little closer to Taeyo, so that she could feel his fur with her fingertips as she continued.  “The wise Elune gave us to each other so that we would both survive and grow strong.  You are my brother, I am your sister, but we are not of the same world anymore.”

Zurak could not stop the flow of hot tears down her face, she even forgot her fears for her baby in her grief and moved even closer to the bear.  Taeyo was grunting softly making Zurak want only to bury her face in his familiar warmth; she told herself to be strong, that this was what was best for everyone.

Zurak looked deeply into Taeyo’s eyes and said, “I can no longer come and meet you, no longer bring you food or tend your wounds brother.  It is time for us to part.” 

There was something in the bear’s eyes, perhaps it was only something that Zurak wanted to see, but it looked like sadness to her.  It looked like Taeyo understood her words, that he had already figured out the truth of them on his own.  The sun was beginning to dip down in the sky, Zurak knew it was time to go back but she lingered for a few more minutes to sing one last song.

When she was finished, Zurak stood up and very gently stroked Taeyo’s face one last time.  “I will always love you little brother, you will always be my family, no matter what.”  With that, Zurak picked up her basket and turned to leave.

The tears were flowing down Zurak’s face as she walked away from Taeyo, she could feel his eyes on her back and hear the bear’s plaintive grunts.  Even though her heart was ripping in two, Zurak would not look back; she would not be able to be strong if she looked at him again.

Taeyo was a bear, he belonged with the other bears and Zurak belonged to the monkey people now.

Be Careful

It has taken me a few days to work this one out, but our directive this week was to write 100 words inspired by 'be careful'.

Be careful, my mom always said
Everyone always says it
Because I am heedless

I have a literal brain
It does not fill in the blanks
It hears only your exact words

Be careful, they say
And I am,
I am full of care

I carry my full
Where ever I go
I am always careful

Because you love me
And you care
You are full with me

You carry my full
I carry your full
We are careful

Because we love
Because we care
Because we're here
Because we're there

I'll be careful
As long as you care

WANDERER Part 19

Media Frenzy

“They can’t just take it away from us Pet,” Tass hissed, “those mucking bass Tardises.”

Pet didn't look up from the letter she was reading, “It was never ours, it always belonged to the State.”

“Why are you so calm about this?  Doesn't is criss you off?”

Petra was not angry, she had been expecting this and this was the reason she had held off making the announcement about the discovery of Bear Cave.  The cave was on land owned by the State of California and once that bear carving had been found, everything changed.  Runes were definitely not the work of the ancient natives of California so no one had cared about Pet’s expeditions, but a bear was something different.  That bear carving took the discovery from the realm of an obscure curiosity to a place of archaeological significance because the ancient natives did make carvings of animals.  Now it was officially protected and the only excavations would be state and native sanctioned ones that no one really had an interest in conducting.

However, Pet had seen all this coming from the very first moment she had looked down from the rocks and seen the fragments.  One of the benefits of being an outsider was not playing by insider rules and it had taken quite a lot of convincing along with some creative bribery to keep the hikers quiet until Pet was ready to reveal the cave.  But those hikers had kept their word; so Pet and Tass had plenty of time to do their own research before turning the cave over to the state.

Pet exhausted herself making sure that she wrung every possible drop of information out of the site before giving it up though.  There were thousands of photographs from all angles of the cave and the surrounding terrain; photos of all the carvings and any rock with even the possibility of a groove.  Samples of dirt, rocks, mosses and a host of other specimens had been collected and sent to the labs.  CaveWomen had even brought in a genuine scientist, a retired teacher from the area who was a longtime reader and supporter of the blog.

Dr. Garcia spent two days examining all the carvings before concluding that they were genuine and even suggested that all of the glyphs had been carved by the same hand.  A private geologist had come for a quiet consultation about the age of the glyphs, but even Pet had a hard time wrapping her head around the geologist’s findings.  She knew that the glyphs were incredibly old and even harbored the suspicion that they predated European examples by thousands of years.

Accepted history states that Christopher Columbus discovered the new world first in 1492, that no Europeans had come to the Americas before then and that it was still a ‘discovery’ even though there were people waiting for him when he arrived.  The gigantic egos that wrote history books were unconcerned about facts that did not support their story.  Actually, they were kind of antagonistic about those pesky facts and did their level best to hush the voices of dissent.

They had gone to war with Pet the very moment she had announced the finding of Bear Cave on her blog, which she had done without going to the authorities first and without asking the established order pretty please.  In fact, Pet had gone way outside of her usual comfort zone and sent out a press release because she knew there would be a surfeit of voices calling her a fraud, pretender or nutjob.-

The CaveWomen came out swinging with a full report including all the lab findings, photos and even the theory that the glyphs were carved at least five thousand years before Columbus was born.  But Pet would not fight in their arena, the odds were rigged in favor of the house and she did not have the patience for that glacial pace.  Pet and Tass took the fight out into the streets, if the scientists wanted to hang them out to dry then they would have to get past over a million readers to do so.  The best lesson Pet had learned from the computer age was that the only thing you needed to have credibility was to have a bunch of strangers saying that you were credible.

So she was ready for the fight, but it was not the fight that interested her.  All Pet wanted was to understand the glyphs, it was her life’s work, her calling and nothing would push her off course.  Tass however, was a different story.  Tass was a fighter, a scrappy contender who did not like to be pushed around or bossed around.  Tass was the face and voice of CaveWomen, Inc and she would happily go toe-to-toe with anyone who dared to call them fakes.

They were sitting at the table in the sunny kitchen, well Pet was anyway because Tass kept getting up to stomp around the room angrily.  “Well we can’t let them get away with this,” Tass fumed from near the sink.

“They have already gotten away with it,” Pet replied placidly, “but we got away with something too, don’t forget that.”

Tass sighed dramatically, “But what next Mahatma bucking Gandhi?  Do we just smile and let them talk all this Brit about us?”  Tass glared at Pet and sighed again extra loudly, “How do we know where to go next?”

Pet fished out a letter from the pile and held it out to her best friend, “We’re going to New York next.  David Letterman wants our help with a Top 10 list.”  Pet could only smile and then laugh at the flow of changing expressions on Tass’ face.  The scientists and academics could do all the criticizing they wanted, the people were speaking and those people wanted the CaveWomen.