Trip to Germany: The country is surprisingly clean and well thought-out

Greenery is abundant, even in German cities. Image courtesy of Del Stone Jr.

When I got back from my trip to Europe, Staff Writer Bruce Rolfsen asked me, “How many columns are you gonna milk this trip for?”

I answered, “Oh, about 14.”

He laughed. I laughed.

As I mentally laid out Column No. 3. And 4. And 5. And 6, 7, 8, …

The serial columnist strikes again. But if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to spend the next few weeks telling you about what I saw over there, beginning with this collection of unrelated impressions and observations about Germany.

– The first person I encountered at the Frankfurt airport was an immigration official who wanted to see my passport. He looked it over with a critical eye. Then, in a sinister, Gert Frobian voice, he murmured, “Your papers are NOT in order.”

“GAAAA?” I asked.

“Yes. I show you,” he said, and pointed at a line on my passport – the line for my signature.

It was blank.

He handed me a pen.

What I really needed was a nitroglycerine pill.

– Germany is an amazingly clean country. Not a speck of litter anywhere, except outside a Pizza Hut, where several English-language fliers had been strewn across a sidewalk. I collected them all out of shame for my language.

– The cities and villages were thick with trees and flowers, an amazing abundance of greenery and a delightful dearth of asphalt. It seemed every window supported a flowerbox overflowing with geraniums, and every patio was surrounded by trees and blooms.

The countryside is heavily cultivated with corn, sunflowers and wheat. But huge tracts of forested land separate the fields, and in many places forest predominates. Vineyards dot the hillsides, giving way to trees farther up the hilltops.

Even in the cities, trees are abundant, which is why the urban areas never seemed hot, noisy or congested.

It was very clear to me the Germans had learned the importance of co-existing with nature.

– American urban planners, especially those who pass for such in these parts, should take a junket to southern Germany for an immediate education in municipal logic.

The cities are neat, tidy, and use space efficiently. Seldom do you see the desolate stretches of pavement, crazy quilt of construction techniques and the grotesque sprawl that blight American municipalities. Development was limited to distinct borders, an embodiment of the greenway concept, and the wisdom of that philosophy was glaringly apparent; livable cities that had not been built at the expense of surrounding wild places.

(Maybe The Nature Conservancy could better spend its limited funds on airplane tickets for the local developers.)

– Only one place in Germany reminded me of home: the crumbling, bankrupt warrens of the former East Germany. Roads were in ill repair and drab apartment complexes reared above the horizon – all of it was depressingly familiar.

– The Germans were quite friendly, and virtually everywhere I went I was able to find somebody who could speak passable English. Having only a few words and phrases in my German lexicon, I was appreciative of their language skills, and embarrassed by my own.

This column was originally published in the September 10, 1997 edition of the Northwest Florida Daily News and is used with permission.

About the author:

Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”

Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.

As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.

Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .

The author snapped this photo of the Delta jetliner he flew aboard to Germany. In the column he referred to it as a DC-10 but in all probability it was an MD-11. Image courtesy of Del Stone Jr.

A large group of my friends – large enough to physically overpower me – escorted me to the airport for my recent trip to Europe.

They know I’m a weenie about flying (as if I hadn’t collapsed into their arms the week before, begging them to pray for my soul) and they wanted to make sure I actually got on the airplane so I couldn’t fake the trip, like the government did with the moon landings and the Mars mission.

We got to the baggage check-in and I told the lady at the desk, “I’m a gutless weenie when it comes to flying,” and she gave me a fishy stare and declared, “I’m making a note of that on your boarding pass.”

Then my friends dragged me to the gate. They announced my plane was ready to go and my friends pushed me forward and suddenly I needed to spend some quality time in the toilet.

“Hello. It’s the gutless weenie,” chirped the boarding clerk as he examined my pass. I should have punched him, but I was too afraid.

We got aboard. I’d asked for an aisle seat, preferably in the no-visibility section. But the airline, in its infinite wisdom, had assigned window seats to a pair of newlyweds, and THEY wanted to sit together. So while the sungglebunnies made goo-goo eyes, I got the window seat next to a spooky-looking woman of massive proportions who hogged the armrests.

We took off into Cecil B. DeMille-style thunderstorms. The plane clearly was not Charlton Heston. Our pilot said it was too turbulent to serve drinks – not too turbulent to throw handfuls of Valiums down the aisle, which would have been fine by me.

An hour later we landed at Hartsfield in Atlanta. I hurried to my connecting flight, a big DC-10 that would carry us nonstop to Frankfurt, Germany. I noticed it only had THREE engines. Could it fly all the way to Germany on THREE engines? I asked myself. No, dummy, Abusive Del answered. Halfway across they’re gonna throw your butt into the Atlantic.

As we were boarding, I met a fellow Fort Walton Beach-ite, Cat Stevens (no, not the singer – this was the REAL Cat Stevens) and her son. It was nice to know somebody famous from home would be along for the ride.

This airplane was, as they say in Brooklyn, YUGE. And even cooler, it had a TELEPHONE in the back of the seat. I couldn’t make the damn thing work, which was REALLY cool – I spent most of the trip just trying to place a TELEPHONE CALL.

Coolest of all? Soon as we took off, night happened. Couldn’t see a thing. Might as well have been on a bus. Fort the first time in my life, I slept on an airplane – well, I TRIED to sleep.

“Wake up, sir, its time for your dinner.”

“Wake up, sir, it’s time for your snack.”

“Wake up, sir, it’s time for your hot towel.”

If THAT’s all I could complain about, it must have been a pretty good airplane ride.

Actually, I’ll complain about one more thing: My fellow passengers hogged the bathroom. Right before landing, I wanted to brush my teeth and “refresh” my deodorant. So did everyone else. By the time I got in there we were pulling up to the gate.

But I’d made it – eight hours in a plane and not one single nervous breakdown.

Little did I know. …

The column was previously published in the September 3, 1997 edition of the Northwest Florida Daily News and is used with permission.

About the author:

Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”

Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.

As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.

Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .

Planes wait at skyways at Atlanta's Hartsfield Airport in this 1997 photo. Image courtesy of Del Stone Jr.

It was not a good day to fly.

To the north, an evil brew of clouds simmered. They’d been cooking in the August sun for hours, and now rain threatened to spill over.

But more than rain bubbled in those growing thunderheads. For a phoboic, they contained turbulence, the invisible shaking and jolting that squeezes sweat from your palms and wraps a clammy fist around your heart.

The airplane, an MD-80 that would carry me to Atlanta for an even longer flight to Europe, got itself buttoned up with a heart-stopping series of thuds and rattles as attendants pulled the main hatch shut and the baggage handlers finished up below.

I did not want to be here, and nothing would change that – not any number of statistics, the assurances of my friends, or anything else. Somewhere along the line of my life I’d picked up a flying phobia, and the fear, though irrational was very real, almost a living thing.

What I wanted to do was run screaming from the airplane, but it was too late for that. The jet came alive with a flickering of lights and a sudden hissing of the air-conditioning system. A low moan ran through the airframe as the turbines began spinning faster and faster.

For two weeks I’d been dreading this moment. Even writing these words produces a slick pit in my stomach.

Oh, and the crashes.

The weed before, a FedEx MD-11 – the same model airplane I’d be riding for the long flight – plowed the runway at Newark, N.J. It was an MD-11, back then called a DC-10, that had crashed at Souix City, Iowa. Another DC-10 went down in a billowing fireball after losing an engine on takeoff from Chicago’s O’Hare.

Don’t worry, everyone said. Fate has claimed its tribute. Your flight will be fine.

Which is what those pathetic souls aboard the Korean Air flight to Guam were thinking as their 747 flew into the side of a mountain, I moaned to myself as I read the news bulletin.

Our jet was pulling away from the gate, thumping and bumping over the steamy tarmac on its way to the runway. People spoke in low voices, or said nothing at all.

Only days before, a DC-8 bellyflopped into a Miami neighborhood, killing the crew and a couple of people on the ground. They said its cargo broke loose, causing the plane to become tail-heavy.

Don’t worry, everyone said. And they were still saying it the next day when an L-1011 ran off the runway in Hawaii and nearly did a swan dive into the Pacific.

These thoughts were going through my head as the plane’s brakes groaned and it came to a sudden halt at the end of the runway. It seemed to rock slightly. Then it was still. We sat there a moment.

The pilot announced over the PA system, “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve been cleared for takeoff,” and my palms iced over and I remembered times I’d narrowly averted disaster in its many guises, and then it all opened up for me, and I thought what a shame it would be to take the sum of my life – all the work and time and energy that had been expended to deliver me to this moment – and crush it against the tarmac at Pensacola Regional Airport.

As the engines roared.

And the plane began to roll.

This column was originally published in the Northwest Florida Daily News on August 27, 1997 and is used with permission.

About the author:

Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”

Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.

As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.

Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .

Image courtesy of picryl.

And God said, “Let there be bureaucracy”: My Destin correspondent, Winona Havey, who frequently ponders the imponderable and mails me the results, forwarded to my attention this little gem, which I now forward to you:

“In the beginning, God created heaven and the earth.

“Quickly he was faced with a class-action suit for failure to file an environmental impact statement. He was granted a temporary permit for the project, but was stymied with a cease-and-desist order for the earthly part.

“Appearing at the hearing, God was asked why he began his earthly project in the first place. He replied that he just liked to be creative.

“Then God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and immediately the officials demanded to know how the light would be made.

“Would there be strip mining? What about thermal pollution? God explained that the light would come from a huge ball of fire.

“God was granted provisional permission to make light, assuming that no smoke would result from the ball of fire; that he would obtain a building permit; and to conserve energy, (he) would turn the light off half the time.

“God agreed and said he would call the light ‘Day’ and the darkness ‘Night.’

“Officials replied that were not interested in semantics.

“God said, ‘Let the earth bring forth green herb and bear much seed.’ The EPA agreed so long as native seed was used.

“The God said, ‘Let waters bring forth creeping creatures begetting life; and the fowl that may fly over the earth.’

“Officials pointed out this would require approval from the Department of Game coordinated with the Heavenly Wildlife Federation and the Audubongelic Society.

“Everything was OK until God said he wanted to complete the project in six days. Officials said it would take at least 200 days to review the application and impact statement. After that there would be a public hearing. Then, there would be a 10- to 12-month approval period before. …

“At this point God created hell.”

Thanks, Winona. Even we ardent environmentalists can laugh at the hassle of red tape necessary to protect what God put on this earth.

Now if we could convince the other side to do the same, our debates might become a lot more civil.

Strange but true: A company trying to continue its five-year perfect safety record showed its workers a film aimed at encouraging the use of safety goggles on the job.

According to Industrial Machinery News, the film’s depiction of gory industrial accidents was so graphic that 25 workers suffered minor injuries in their rush to leave the screening room. Thirteen others fainted, and one man required seven stitches after he cut his head falling off a chair while watching the film.

Headlines that didn’t work: “Survivor of Siamese Twins Joins Parents.”

This week’s wire weirdness: MIAMI (AP) – The Better Business Bureau of south Florida, set up to handle consumer complaints from Key West to Lake Okeechobee, is out of business.

The local agency shut down a week ago – apparently just before getting an eviction notice. Left behind were bounced payroll checks and creditors who say they’re owed $458,000.

About the author:

Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”

Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.

As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.

Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, Ello and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .

Image courtesy of Flickr user Lance H. Bates under the auspices of a Creative Commons license. https://www.flickr.com/photos/7977365@N08/5709021472/

A number of people called, e-mailed, faxed, or contacted me via the Intergalactic Council to let me know what a rube I am for suggesting flying saucers are a figment of the collective unconscious.

One person even admonished me to put away my Bible (I nearly choked with laughter over that!) and asserted people like me actually hinder the exploration of space by dissing poor little E.T.

I’m not sure what to think about all this. It’s a comfort knowing that skepticism lives in this day of McDonaldized Mass Mind thinking. But at the same time, how spooky to see that this skepticism is fueled by utter nonsense.

Tell you what: I’ll eat my words if somebody can produce a real, live flying saucer, demonstrably from outer space. Until then, you guys keep shaking your hoodoo sticks and baying at the moon.

I’ll wait for the real scientists to give us our answers.

Look for their names on the silver screen! It was bad enough that I nearly sprained my back and gave myself leg cramps trying to help Harrison Ford crawl back into the airplane in “Air Force One.” But then I had to wait in agony until the end of the credits to see the acknowledgments for Eglin and Hurlburt.

But it was time well spent for about 20 of us who remained in the theater as the movie ended Sunday afternoon. When the names of our local bases rolled across the screen, everybody clapped and cheered.

“Air Force One” is one darned exciting movie – probably the best of the action-movie crop this summer. Check it out – and watch those credits roll.

Let it rain: Saturday’s deluge prompted a very strange reaction among some of us around town.

It was such a thunderous downpour – typical for Florida – that people I talked to didn’t even try to go out and about. They stayed at home and watched NASCAR, the Brickyard 400.

I’m not a big NASCAR fan, but like those other people, I was glued to the TV, rooting for all the old-timers, drivers like Bill Elliot (who is the husband of former Daily News photographer Cindy Poole) and casting hexes on young showoffs like Jeff Gordon.

Next thing you know we’ll be packing up the Winnebago and caravanning to Talladega.

Who won the race?

Somebody named Tide.

This week’s wire weirdness: DAKAR, Senegal (AP) – Vigilante mobs convinced that foreign sorcerers can shrink a man’s genitals with a mere handshake have killed eight people in Senegal in the past week.

Attackers killed five people at Ziguinghor in southern Senegal after a man accused one of them of making his penis shrink, newspapers reported Friday. At least three other people were killed in the West African nation’s capital, Dakar.

Headlines that didn’t work: Miners Refuse to Work after Death.

Strange but true: A man in Johannesburg, South Africa, shot his 49-year-old friend in the face, seriously wounding him, while the two practiced shooting beer cans off each other’s heads.

About the author:

Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”

Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.

As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.

Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, Ello and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .

Image courtesy of Olaf Growald, Wikimedia Commons.

The death penalty? The righteously wrathful were rubbing their palms last week as jurors in the penalty phase of the Timothy McVeigh murder and conspiracy trial decided he should die for his crime.

His crime – the April 19, 1995 bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Building in Oklahoma City that killed 168 people – was undeniably horrible.

But while death penalty advocates declared their satisfaction and pundits hailed the trail as proof the U.S. legal system “works,” some of us held our noses and waited for the stench of sanctimony to pass on by.

Timothy McVeigh’s trail was many things, but it was not a test for the workability of American justice – not when they’re letting convicted felons run free after serving mere fractions of their sentences, and certainly not after O.J.

Also, I’d wonder about a government that could execute Timothy McVeigh while granting diplomatic recognition to a butcher like Yasser Arafat, or proffering most-favored nation trading status to a genocidal autocracy like the People’s Republic of China.

I believe the operative word here is “hypocrisy.”

For a system to “work,” it must work for all.

Charity bowl: Daily News columnist Kelly Humphrey has organized the Bowl for Red Cross fund-raiser, and now that she’s done all the work, we can do the fun part:

Bowl!

The Bowl for Red Cross happens Saturday at Destin Lanes from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. The owners will donate 25 percent of the proceeds to the Red Cross, which is helping the flooded folks of Fargo, N.D. mop up after the Red River jumped its banks earlier this year and did an Opal-like number on the while town. What makes this worse for our northern cousins is their unenviable lack of WARM TEMPERATURES and a MOSQUITO-FREE EXISTENCE while cleaning up the mess.

We had ICE in our Cokes, not our debris.

Come out Saturday and bowl a few lines. I’ll need somebody to show me how to use the scoring computers, so bring the kids. It’ll be a good time – you betcha!

This week’s wire weirdness: MIAMI (AP) – The U.S. government has rejected Raul Blanco’s to become a citizen five times. But the 53-year-old Cuban immigrant hasn’t given up.

Ten fingerprints are required from applicants and Blanco only put down seven.

But that’s all he has – seven whole fingers.

The clerks who read Blanco’s application failed to see the explanation: “amputated.”

Years ago, he lost the ring finger and the tips of the index and middle fingers of his right hand after an accident at a Cuban sugar mill.

James Minton, deputy chief of the Immigration and Naturalization Service’s Miami office, acknowledged the agency goofed.

“Our office is going to call him,” Minton said.

Words that should be words: “Pupkus,” as in: The moist residue left on a window after a dog presses its nose to it.

Headlines that did not work: “Lung Cancer in Women Mushrooms.”

Redneck computer terms: “LAN”: To borrow, as in: “Hey Billy Joe, LAN me yore truck.”

This column was previously published in the June 18, 1997 Northwest Florida Daily News and is used with permission.

About the author:

Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”

Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.

As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.

Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, Ello and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .

Image courtesy of Flickr user lilbluelola.

—

Performance Against AIDS: Frankly Scarlett in downtown Fort Walton Beach will again be the venue for Performance Against AIDS V, a fund-raiser for OASIS and its efforts to improve the quality of life for local folks who are living with AIDS.

Expect a variety show, also starring local folks, on June21 at 10 p.m. Ticket prices are $8, with limited VIP tickets going for $50. That’ll get you a reserved seat at the show and two complimentary drinks, but more importantly it’ll sponsor a second ticket for a person living with AIDS or who is HIV-positive and wants to attend the show.

There’ll be hors d’oeuvres, door prizes, and no-show tickets that people who can’t attend but want to help can buy.

It’s all for OASIS, which provides financial assistance and support services to people in Okaloosa and Walton counties affected by HIV and AIDS.

For more info, give Melissa Welch a call at 314-0950, or fax her at 314-0952. Frankly Scarlett is at 217 S.E. Miracle Strip Parkway.

Bay Day in May: Camp Timpoochee was the site for the first Bay Day – a fascinating celebration of science and environmentalism that organizers hope to make a yearly event.

The flora and fauna that make up the bay and its watershed were on display, and Steve Rider of the Department of Environmental Protection even brought his Okaloosa darters, the endangered fish that in the past has stirred up more than just sediment around these parts.

An afternoon thunderstorm swept away brochures and knocked over planters, but everybody crowded under the camp enclosure and waited for Mom Nature to get her act together. It was all part of the scene.

The Choctawhatchee Basin Alliance did a good job with its first festival and they’ve got a year’s preparation time to make the second an even bigger and more elaborate event. Plan on it for ’98.

That coveted Bowlegs loot: The Bowlegs treasure hunt winners are promised $500 in gift certificates from downtown businesses.

That’ll buy a lot of skull tattoos.

And a whole FLOCK of partridges in a pear tree!

Words that should be words: “Phonesia,” as in the affliction of dialing a phone number and forgetting whom you were calling just as they answer.

This week’s wire weirdness: ASSEN, Netherlands (AP) – A pilot dubbed Capt. Flinstone because he insisted pm singing the theme to the popular cartoon series over his small plane’s radio has been sentenced to four months in jail.

Authorities jailed pilot Wim de Nijs because his March 1996 prank tied up a radio frequency used by air traffic controllers at the airport in the northern Dutch city of Groningen.

By bellowing out “Flintstones, meet the Flintsones, they’re a modern stone-age family” for 20 minutes, de Nijs drowned out controllers’ contacts with other aircraft, prosecutors said.

Redneck computer terms: “Mouse,” as in a fuzzy, softy thing you stuff in your beer bottle in order to get a free case.

Headlines that did not work: “British Left Waffles on Falkland Islands.”

This column was originally published in the Wednesday, June 11, 1997 edition of the Northwest Florida Daily News.

About the author:

Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”

Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.

As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.

Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, Ello and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .

Image courtesy of Pikist by way of a Creative Commons license.

Let the good times roll: Skinny teenagers capered across the stage at Fort Walton Landing as I stood astride my bike, trying to ignite matches by rubbing them between my flab rolls.

It was Saturday night’s Battle of the Bands. I loved the music but I hated the fact that these kids didn’t need sawhorses to hold up their love handles.

Meanwhile, a mother of a friend of a band member tried to help me see the bright side.

“Embrace your flab,” Sally said as she simultaneously demonstrated various crunches and other flab-reducing maneuvers. The contradiction did not escape me.

Another thought that didn’t escape me was my memory of the movie “The Blob,” in which a giant, loogie-type mass of protoplasm devours every single living thing it encounters, including trim, smart-alecky teen-agers. That’d learn ’em. I’m reminded of that movie every time I try on a pair of pants with a 33-inch waistline.

“Be proud of your flab,” Sally declared, striking a New Deal pose with her appraised fist, a firm set to her jaw, and immense spasms of hysterical laughter quivering just beneath the surface of her expression.

OK, Sally. Go ahead and almost laugh. When you see me on David Letterman, shooting fireballs out of the cracks of my flab rolls, you’re gonna say, “To think: I knew him when he almost burned down the judge’s tent at Battle of the Bands.”

Meanwhile, Tracey and her beau, 99 Rock’s Jason, who you almost saw wearing a bikini in this very column, came up with the most logical solution to the entire problem: “Let’s go eat!”

And I really wanted to. Really. The only thing standing between me and a fried oyster sandwich was the absence of Andrew Jackson – that and the fact that the only element missing from my fashion statement was a hockey mask and I’d be tossed out of any restaurant that didn’t have the suffix “cide” in its name.

So me and my flubber rolls pedaled away, but not before holding a visitation with The Mustangs, who serenaded the dark outside The Last Saloon. Those guys were no flat-bellies either, but you could hear the wisdom in their music, and after a moment I didn’t feel so bad.

Headlines that didn’t work: Panda Mating Fails; Veterinarian Takes Over.

Redneck computer terms: “Network,” as in activity meant to provide bait for your trot line.

This week’s wire weirdness: GAINESVILLE, Fla. (AP) – Throat cancer patient Abraham Mosley couldn’t scream when his pajamas caught fire as he tried to light a cigar.

The silent seconds until the smoke alarm sounded may have cost Mosley his life. Family and friends rescued him from the fire, but the 64-year-old died later … at a hospital.

Mosley, confined to a hospital bed in his kitchen, ignited strips of paper on a stove burner in an attempt to light the cigar because the cancer had degraded his manual coordination. But the paper lit first the gauze bandages around his neck, then his pajamas.

Words that should be words: This week’s offering is: “Petrophobic,” as in, one who is embarrassed to undress in front of a household pet.

This column was originally published in the June 4, 1997 Northwest Florida Daily News and is used with permission.

About the author:

Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”

Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.

As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.

Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, Ello and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .

Image courtesy of Flickr user Bryan McDonald by way of a Creative Commons license. https://www.flickr.com/people/28155182@N06

Gator growl: One of my long-held suspicions has been confirmed by researchers at the University of Florida.

This will come as good news for Steve Spurrier, and maybe not such good news for the unborn children of Gator fans – who will remain unborn, it seems, if the University of Florida remains in national championship contention.

Here’s a quote from a press release from the UF public affairs department:

“Some would say that for diehard Gator fans, seeing their favorite team in action is better than sex. Now, University of Florida researchers have scientific evidence supporting it.

“Researchers examining how people react to their emotions sowed subjects a variety of photographs while recording their physiological and subjective responses. People categorized as extreme Gator fans showed stronger positive reactions to pictures of Gator sporting events than to erotic pictures.”

Whoa!

Is that not a mouthful or what?

No wonder the stands at Ben Hill Griffith Stadium are always so packed. No wonder the seething, sweaty masses who pack those stands are cheering – and it’s a LUSTY cheering, I might add.

No wonder the seats are so. …

NO! I won’t do that. But NOW I understand why Florida fans chant, “It’s great to be a Florida Gator!” as they leave the stadium, not to mention why so many of them are smoking cigarettes. It IS great to be a Florida Gator.

The news that Florida football is better than sex will force headline writers the land over to rethink their verbs.

BTW, the researcher who made this landmark discovery is a University of Miami grad, a school where football is better than murder.

This brew’s for you: For years I’ve been amassing a collection of American beer cans and bottles. I must have a couple of hundred. Now, I want to get rid of them.

But I know nothing about the collectability of beer cans. Do you? Give me a call at 864-0433, or e-mail me at [email protected].

I’m not looking to make money. In fact, if any charity or kids’ group would to clean up the collection and sell it, they can have whatever money it brings.

Redneck computer terms: “Reboot,” as in: what you do when the first pair gets covered with barnyard stuff.

Say what? Recently a letter arrived from the National Safety Council stamped “Air Enhanced.” Does that mean the letter was almost sent “air mail”? Did the mailman stand behind the airplane, waving the letter as the jet exhaust swooshed over him? Did anybody arrest this man?

I threw it in a receptacle that was “garbage enhanced.”

Headlines that didn’t work: “Prostitutes Appeal to Pope.”

Words that should be words: “Peppier,” as in” The waiter at a fancy restaurant whose sole purpose seems to be walking around asking diners if they want ground pepper.

This column was originally published in the May 28, 1997 Northwest Florida Daily News and is used with permission.

About the author:

Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”

Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.

As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.

Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, Ello and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .

Image courtesy of the National Hurricane Center.

The list of hurricane names for 1997 is out, and what a sorry list of names it is.

The A storm will be called Ana. I have a friend whose name is Anna, so I will not say anything bad about this name. But just between you, me and the fence post, I would never trust a storm named Ana, which is no reflection on the real Anna, who is entirely trustworthy. Well. Almost.

The B storm will be Bill. It will arrive collect-on-delivery. Ha ha. That’s my only “Bill” joke.

Next we have Claudette. Claudette is too exotic a name. I see French madams prowling the gas lit back alleys of the New Orleans French Quarter – a fearful image of you worry about diseases, not hurricanes.

Then there’s Danny. How could anybody run away from a Hurricane Danny? When I think of Danny, I think of a “Far Side” Irish setter, its tongue lolling, its eyes slightly crossed. Danny is too friendly a name for a hurricane.

For the E storm we have Erika. I like this name. I see a rigid Nordic disciplinarian, one who would deal a devastating blow to a city filled with Bills and Claudettes. Erika would teach them a thing or two.

The F storm will be named Fabian.

You’ve got to be kidding.

Fabian? Do you expect me to take a storm named Fabian seriously? Why not Frankie? Annette? Or, the Hurricane Formerly Known as Fabian?

The G name is excellent. Grace. It embodies an ironic contrast between the naturally violent nature of a tropical cyclone and the gentle, moral forthrightness of forgiveness. Or something like that.

Next we have Henri, pronounced ahn-REE, like the waiter who brings you a platter of snails and sneers at your non-gold Visa card and then slinks away for a rendezvous with Claudette. You can imagine this storm muttering, “I SPIT on your waterfront property” in a French accent.

The I storm will be Isabel, as in the queen of Spain who dispatched Columbus on his journey westward. Not a bad choice, especially if Isabel is a Cape Verde hurricane.

The next two storms are familiar refrains from 1985, Juan and Kate. Juan struck Pensacola. Kate struck Panama City. Hmmm. If there were a letter between J and K, we’d be in big trouble.

The L hurricane will be Larry. I sit in front of a Larry. As I write this, I can feel his eyes boring into the back of my neck, like laser beams. He edits this column, which is why you haven’t been seeing my curse words lately.

I think Larry is a great name.

Forgive me for chortling, but the M storm will be called Mindy. We have a Mindy who works here, but I think I could take her two falls out of three. Therefore, it’s only with a little trepidation that I say Mindy is a terrible name for a hurricane. Na-noo, Na-noo.

The N and O storms have names I don’t really care about, Nicholas and Odette. I think the hurricane center must be growing desperate. Odette? Sorry all you Odettes. I think this name is a 0.

The last name on the list is Peter. I don’t think Hurricane Peter is a good idea. To put it bluntly, I fear the pun potential is too enormous, and every scatologist in the nation will be jeering.

Who would want to be struck by Peter?

This column was published in the Wednesday, May 21, 1997 edition of the Northwest Florida Daily News and is used with permission.

About the author:

Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”

Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.

As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.

Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, Ello and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .