Jumat, 28 Februari 2014

* Free Ebook Star Trek 101: A Practical Guide to Who, What, Where, and Why, by Terry J. Erdmann, Paula M. Block

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Star Trek 101: A Practical Guide to Who, What, Where, and Why, by Terry J. Erdmann, Paula M. Block

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Star Trek 101: A Practical Guide to Who, What, Where, and Why, by Terry J. Erdmann, Paula M. Block

In the future, a heroic captain and his crew explore the Galaxy in a really fast spacecraft. The crew's standing orders are:
"...to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before."™
Simple, straightforward -- that's Star Trek.® So what's all the fuss? Why do news crews always seem to find someone, somewhere dressed up in a Star Trek costume? What could be so interesting to so many people?

Star Trek 101 is the answer. You'll learn just a little about the heroes (Captain Kirk believes that man wasn't meant to live in paradise), the villains (Klingons have a thirst for conquest), and the important aliens (Vulcans live their lives by logic). In the handy recaps for all things Star Trek, you'll discover that the television shows and movies run the gamut from action-adventure to comedy. Just want to sample? The ten essential episodes are offered for your consideration. Star Trek 101 is a quick primer of the television shows and movies that carry the Star Trek name.

  • Sales Rank: #666035 in Books
  • Published on: 2008-09-23
  • Released on: 2008-09-23
  • Original language: English
  • Number of items: 1
  • Dimensions: 9.13" h x .90" w x 7.37" l, 1.39 pounds
  • Binding: Paperback
  • 320 pages

About the Author
Terry J. Erdmann (Paula M. Block) is a co-author of the ebook novella Star Trek: Deep Space Nine—Lust’s Latinum Lost (And Found). He has also written the non-fiction books: Star Trek Costumes: Five Decades of Fashion from the Final Frontier; Star Trek Pop-Ups; Star Trek The Original Topps Trading Card Series; Star Trek The Next Generation 365; Star Trek The Original Series 365; Star Trek 101; Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Companion; The Secrets of Star Trek: Insurrection; The Magic of Tribbles; and Star Trek: Action! His additional titles include Monk: The Official Episode Guide and The 4400 Companion. During his career in film publicity, Terry authored The Last Samurai Official Companion. They live in Southern Oregon with their two collies, Shadow and Mandy.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

ONE

STAR TREK

79 hour-long episodes, 1966-1969
"Wagon Train to the Stars"

SERIES PREMISE

A few hundred years in the future, a heroic captain and his crew explore the galaxy in a really fast spacecraft known as the Starship Enterprise. The crew's standing orders from Starfleet are recited by the captain at the beginning of each episode:Space, the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship Enterprise. Its five-year mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before.

THE SHIP

The U.S.S. Enterprise NCC-1701 is an interstellar spacecraft with a crew complement of 430 men and women. The ship is powered by warp-drive engines that allow it to travel many times faster than the speed of light, covering great distances within a practical time frame. (You don't really need to know this to enjoy the show; just assume you'll be visiting an average of one planet per week.)

Because the ship is large and a bit ungainly, the Enterprise never lands. It wasn't designed for it. Whenever the ship arrives at a strange new world, it stays in orbit while a "landing party" either pilots a small craft down to the surface or uses the transporter to "beam" there (this will be explained later). The transporter, like warp drive, is a great time-saving device; Starfleet clearly employs a lot of efficiency experts.

THE MAIN CHARACTERS

JAMES T. KIRK (William Shatner), captain
Risk is our business. That's what this starship is all about. That's why we're aboard her.
-- "RETURN TO TOMORROW"

Kirk is the quintessential Starfleet officer, a man among men and a hero for the ages. His adventures are legendary. He has earned the admiration of his peers, the grudging respect of his opponents, and a chest full of commendations for valor. Cunning, courageous, and confident, Kirk is renowned for his ability to think outside the box, manipulating seemingly impossible situations like a master chess player. If he has one flaw, it is his tendency to ignore Starfleet regulations when he feels the end justifies the means. Kirk's unique style of "cowboy diplomacy" has served him well in countless close encounters.

Kirk was born on Earth in Iowa. He proved a very serious student at Starfleet Academy, remembered by a classmate as a "stack of books with legs." As a Starfleet officer, he is a study in contrasts. He depends on the state-ofthe-art twenty-third-century technology that surrounds him but prefers resolving difficult situations with a hands-on approach -- bareknuckle brawling or bamboozling sophisticated alien computers with his glib tongue. Kirk openly deplores humankind's ancient instinct for war and killing but has a deep-seated distrust of apparent peace and tranquillity. He dreams of "a beach to walk on" with a beautiful woman but firmly believes that man wasn't meant to live in paradise. Although Kirk has quite a reputation as a ladies' man, no woman has ever come between him and his career; his passion for the Enterprise always comes first. His most serious relationship was with Edith Keeler, a forward-thinking but ill-fated social worker whom Kirk met when he traveled into Earth's past.

Key Kirk Episodes
• "The Enemy Within"
• "Court Martial"
• "Shore Leave"
• "The City on the Edge of Forever""You keep wondering if man was meant to be out here -- you keep wondering and you keep signing on." -- Kirk, "The Naked Time"

SPOCK (Leonard Nimoy), first officer
I have a human half...as well as an alien half, submerged, constantly at war with each other...I survive it because my intelligence wins out over both, makes them live together. -- "THE ENEMY WITHIN

The first Vulcan to enlist in Starfleet, Spock (he has a first name, but it's unpronounceable) is the Enterprise's science officer as well as its first officer, and the only man Kirk trusts to second-guess him on all major decisions. Why? Well, for one thing, Spock is probably the smartest man in Starfleet -- quite possibly the galaxy. His cerebral abilities are so renowned that they once inspired a group of aliens to invade the Enterprise to steal his brain. (He got it back.)

Like must Vulcans, Spock worships at the altar of logic. His decisions are always "flawlessly logical." Kirk feels safer about Spock's guesses than he does about most other people's facts. That's because Spock doesn't let emotions cloud his judgment. In fact, Spock has no emotions. Or so he says.

Spock is only half Vulcan. His father, Sarek, was a Vulcan diplomat; his mother, Amanda, a human schoolteacher from Earth. He was raised on his father's world, where the inhabitants are trained from birth to lock away their feelings and lose the key.

Growing up, Spock was torn between the stern discipline of his father's Vulcan teachings and the free-range emotions of his mother. The Vulcan children tormented Spock at school. His father didn't speak to him for eighteen years because Spock opted to join Starfleet rather than attend the Vulcan Science Academy. And Spock's fiancée, T'Pring, spurned him at the altar in favor of a more traditional Vulcan.

Spock is married to his career, which is just as well since he claims to be immune to the charms of women. He has experienced romantic yearnings only under unusual circumstances triggered by alien spores and Pon farr.

Key Spock Episodes
• "The Naked Time"
• "This Side of Paradise"
• "Amok Time"
• "Journey to Babel"

LEONARD "BONES" McCOY (DeForest Kelley), chief medical officer
He's dead, Jim. -- "THE ENEMY WITHIN"

Given half a chance, Leonard McCoy is far more likely to explain what he isn't than what he is. He's not a bricklayer, psychiatrist, escalator, engineer, coal miner, or moon-shuttle conductor. He's "just an old country doctor" who happens to know a lot about twenty-third-century medicine. Born in Georgia, on Earth, McCoy still retains a touch of the charming Southern gentleman about him, which balances out his often cantankerous nature.

More than a little old-fashioned, McCoy isn't convinced that humankind should be gallivanting across the galaxy in a warp-powered starship. He loathes having his atoms "scattered back and forth across space" via the transporter, and he is disturbed by the fact that neither computers nor Vulcans have a clue about compassion. As might be expected, Spock's slavish devotion to technology, logic, and statistics drives McCoy crazy, and he's constantly trying to punch holes in Spock's cool Vulcan reserve. However, Spock is just as good at getting a rise out of McCoy, playing the good doctor's emotions like a concert pianist.

If Kirk represents the soul of the Enterprise and Spock the mind, then McCoy is undoubtedly the heart. The good doctor's insight provides the captain with a touchstone to his own humanity. He's the guy Kirk seeks out when he needs to let his hair down, generally over a drink.

Key McCoy Episodes
• "Shore Leave"
• "The City on the Edge of Forever"
• "Friday's Child"
• "For the World Is Hollow and I Have Touched the Sky""I signed aboard this ship to practice medicine, not to have my atoms scattered back and forth across space by this gadget." -- McCoy, "Space Seed"

MONTGOMERY SCOTT (James Doohan), chief engineer
I can't change the laws of physics.
-- "THE NAKED TIME"

Montgomery Scott -- known to one and all as "Scotty" -- is the ship's miracle worker. He's also its chief engineer, but those titles might as well be one and the same when you have a fellow like Scotty keeping your starship ship-shape. There's no one you'd rather have at the controls of the transporter when you're ready to beam up.

Born in Scotland, Scott retains a bit of the highlanders' Gaelic lilt in his dialect. He refers to the ship's engines as his "bairns" (children) and is prone to calling junior personnel "laddie" or "lass." Scott's affection for the Enterprise may be a bit stronger than his devotion to the captain. He once started a brawl because someone likened the NCC-1701 to a "garbage scow." The fact that earlier Kirk was described as "a swaggering, overbearing, tin-plated dictator with delusions of godhood" hadn't bothered him.

Although he enjoys an occasional nip of Scotch, Scott generally prefers an evening with a technical manual to a night on the town.

Key Scott Episodes
• "Wolf in the Fold"
&#!49; "The Trouble With Tribbles"
• "The Lights of Zetar""Fool me once, shame on you -- fool me twice, shame on me." -- Scott, "Friday's Child"

SULU (George Takei), helm officer
Richelieu, beware!
-- "THE NAKED TIME"

Sulu is a Renaissance man, counting among his passions botany, fencing, ancient handguns...and a subconscious desire to emulate Alexandre Dumas's swashbuckling literary hero D'Artagnan. He's the ship's main helmsman, which essentially means he's the driver.

Key Sulu Episodes
• "The Naked Time"
• "Mirror, Mirror"

UHURA (Nichelle Nichols), communications officer
Hailing frequencies still open, sir.
-- "THE CORBOMITE MANEUVER"

As the ship's communications officer, Uhura spends much of her workday sending transmissions to Starfleet Command and responding to Captain Kirk's requests to open hailing frequencies to new life and new civilizations. Still, there are probably worse jobs on a starship, and Uhura is the only female permanently assigned to the bridge. Her name means "freedom" in Swahili. When she's off duty, Uhura enjoys singing for her fellow crew members.

Key Uhura Episodes
• "The Changeling"
• "The Trouble With Tribbles"

PAVEL ANDREIEVICH CHEKOV (Walter ...

Most helpful customer reviews

8 of 9 people found the following review helpful.
Perfect Gift for Trekkers and for their Supportive Loved Ones
By Dan Garlington
Erdmann has put together a brilliant guidebook of all things Trek that hard-core Trekkers will love to pour through, and their loved ones can use to help understand their passion a bit better. A synopsis of every episode of every series is included - as well as each movie - providing a quick reference guide when you get in an argument over what the name of that lioness communications officer was in the animated series, or what episode introduces us all to Species 8472. It also includes a list of the essential episodes for each series, info on key characters and alien species, and interesting trivia. My first browsing of the book brought back great memories of watching the shows, taught me some things I didn't know, and will surely come in handy when I try to explain the difference between a Vulcan and a Romulan to my husband.

4 of 4 people found the following review helpful.
Nice episode guide
By Jennifer Wightman
First of all, I am not a hardcore Star Trek fan, so if I say something wrong forgive me. I'm a supportive spouse of Star Trek fan.
I got this for my husband for Christmas. I don't know what he considers himself on the grand scheme of Star Trek Fandom. He like and enjoys Star Trek, and used to have quite a collection through his teen years which he gave the majority of it up. Now we have 2 little boys and out of nowhere (from my standpoint) Star Trek started appearing in our home and we have all of the episodes from the Original Series, Deep Space Nine and Voyager... Others are seeping in. Anyway... on to the review...

This is a good episode guide. I'm not sure what it was intended to be but it is much less comprhensive than the The Star Trek Encyclopedia which we also own. It is good for finding an episode or to remember what happened in a particular episode. It has some interesting commentary in the biographies that will give you a laugh. It doesn't contain information about every obscurity that is encountered in the Star Trek universe, but is pretty good to flip through and get an idea of what is going on. I found it useful as a supportive spouse to get an idea of what the heck is going on (especially if we are watching an episode and I fell asleep during the previous episode and don't quite know what happened).

I've come to appreciate Star Trek and enjoy many of their storylines over the last few years. This is a good book for someone who likes Star Trek, but might not want necessarily require having the encylopedia, technical manuals, and Star Charts in their collection. However, I'm sure it would also offer a good bit of information to a die-hard Trekkie if only because they want to have a handy episode guide (if they don't already have them all committed to heart). :-)

5 of 5 people found the following review helpful.
Okay as an episode guide
By Sean Brady
This book is little more than a basic episode guide for all Star Trek series and includes the movies as well. There's some trivia in the book but it's all fairly bland. If you're looking for an episode guide for every Trek series, this is for you. Other than that, there's little to recommend about this book.

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Minggu, 23 Februari 2014

** Ebook Download Kill and Tell: A Novel, by Linda Howard

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Kill and Tell: A Novel, by Linda Howard

Romantic suspense superstar Linda Howard’s seductive New York Times bestseller “meshes hot sex, emotional impact, and gripping tension” (Publishers Weekly) into a sizzling, heart-pounding thriller!

Still reeling from her mother’s recent death, Karen Whitlaw is stunned when she receives a package containing a mysterious notebook from her estranged father, whom she has barely seen since his return from the Vietnam War decades ago. Then, a shocking phone call: Karen’s father has been murdered on the gritty streets of New Orleans.

For homicide detective Marc Chastain, something about the case of a murdered homeless man just doesn’t add up—especially after he meets the victim’s daughter. Far from the cold woman he expected, Karen Whitlaw is warm and passionate. She is also in serious danger. A string of “accidents” have shaken Karen to the core and forced her into the protective embrace of the charming detective she vowed to resist. Together they unravel a disturbing story of politics, power, and murder—and face a killer who will stop at nothing to get his hands on her father’s secrets.

  • Sales Rank: #263973 in Books
  • Brand: Pocket Star
  • Model: 940810
  • Published on: 2003-10-01
  • Released on: 2003-10-01
  • Original language: English
  • Number of items: 1
  • Dimensions: 6.75" h x 1.00" w x 4.19" l, .35 pounds
  • Binding: Mass Market Paperback
  • 320 pages
Features
  • Great product!

Amazon.com Review
Linda Howard's romantic suspense Kill and Tell supplies readers with plenty of thrills and chills. As a nurse, Karen Whitlaw has seen more than the average person, but even she isn't prepared to identify the body of the father she hasn't seen since she was 13. The local detective on the case, Marc Chastain, informs Karen that her father, who was homeless, has been murdered. Still grief stricken over the recent death of her mother, Karen isn't prepared to examine her feelings about her father and his absence from her life. She is willing to accept that he was the victim of street crime until her home is burglarized and she becomes the target for some frightening "accidents." Whoever killed her father is after her, and the only hope she has for discovering why must lie in the notebook that Karen's father mailed to her mother shortly before his death.

Review
Publishers Weekly starred review Linda Howard meshes hot sex, emotional impact, and gripping tension.

From the Publisher

Still reeling from her mother's recent death, Karen Whitlaw is stunned when she receives a package containing a mysterious notebook from the father she has barely seen since his return from the Vietnam War over twenty years ago. Unwilling to deal with her overwhelming emotions, Karen packs the notebook away, putting it—and her father—out of her mind, until she receives a shocking phone call. Her father has been murdered on the gritty streets of New Orleans.

Homicide dectective Marc Chastain considers the murder nothing more than street violence against a homeless man, and Karen accepts his judgement—at firt. But she changes her mind when her home is burglarized and accidents begin to happen. All at once, she faces a chilling realization: whoever killed her father is now after her. Desperate for answers, Karen retrieves the only think that links her to her father—the notebook he had sent months before. Inside its worn pages, she makes an unsettling discovery: her father had been a sniper in Vietnam and the notebook contains a detailed account of each one of his kills.

Now running for her life, Karen entrusts the book and its secrets to Marc Chastain. Together they unravel a disturbing story of politics, power, and murder—and face a killer who will stop at nothing to get his hands on the kill book.

Most helpful customer reviews

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
One of my favorites.
By K Kristan
I have had this book in paperback for years, and finally caved and bought it for my Kindle. I still love it. This was a great series that thankfully you don't have to read in order. It's hard for me to say whether there were twists or not since I remembered it so well, but I am pretty darn sure I was shocked by a detail that came out at the end. Plus I just love Marc and Karen, they are normal people thrown together in extraordinary circumstances and their story is just wonderful.

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Good read.
By Libby
Linda Howard is one of my favorite authors. Kill and Tell is like many of her books in that she mixes suspense with romance. It is an easy read with a good story line and enough excitement to get the heart rate up.

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
I liked the book
By Terry Cropp
I liked the book. because the plot was captivating and storyline held my attention throughout the book, not to mention the surprising twists and turns throughout the story.

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Rabu, 19 Februari 2014

> Free PDF Western Man and Leftover Love, by Janet Dailey

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Western Man and Leftover Love, by Janet Dailey

New York Times bestselling author Janet Dailey portrays the spirit of the American West -- and of men and women with hearts of pride and passion -- in two unforgettable novels.
Western Man
Ever since she was a teenager, Sharon Powell has adored Ridge Halliday, a strong, proud Colorado rancher who could set her heart trembling with one glance from his lazy blue eyes. Now, working at his side on a cattle roundup is a dream come true. But Sharon has a bold new dream beyond her girlish fantasies: to win Ridge not just for a night of passion -- but for a lifetime of love.
Leftover Love
Layne MacDonald's search for her birth mother takes her to a sprawling Nebraska ranch co-owned by the brusque and distant Creed Dawson. As he teaches her to rope and ride, Layne taps into his secret anguish and realizes that she is falling in love. Only a gutsy, determined woman can melt the heart of a man as tough as Creed, and Layne vows that she will be the one.

  • Sales Rank: #481642 in Books
  • Brand: Pocket Books
  • Published on: 2004-03-01
  • Released on: 2004-03-01
  • Original language: English
  • Number of items: 1
  • Dimensions: 6.75" h x 1.10" w x 4.19" l, .38 pounds
  • Binding: Mass Market Paperback
  • 368 pages
Features
  • Great product!

Review
[Dailey] moves her story ahead so purposefully and dramatically...readers will be glad they've gone along for the ride.

About the Author
Janet Dailey is the author of scores of popular and uniquely American novels, including such bestsellers as Scrooge Wore Spurs, A Capital Holiday, The Glory Game, The Pride of Hannah Wade, and the phenomenal Calder saga, including the newest title in the series, Shifting Calder Wind. Her romantic fiction has also been featured in a story anthology, The Only Thing Better Than Chocolate. Since her first novel was published in 1975, Janet Dailey has become the bestselling female author in America, with more than 300,000,000 copies of her books in print. Her books have been published in seventeen languages and are sold in ninety countries. Janet Dailey's careful research and her intimate knowledge of America have made her one of the best-loved authors in the country and around the world.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter One

The ranch-house kitchen was filled with the warm smell of chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven. When the last cookie on the metal sheet pan joined the others cooling on the paper spread on the counter top, Sharon Powell turned to carry the sheet pan to the table where the bowl of cookie dough sat.

Her hazel-eyed glance fell on the empty chair pushed away from the table, where a half-finished glass of milk remained along with two cookies, each with a bite taken from it. Her reaction was a combination of alarm and exasperation.

"Tony?" Sharon tossed a potholder onto the table and laid the cookie sheet, hot from the oven, on to it. There was no response to her querying call, although she strained alertly to catch any sound. Muttering to herself, Sharon started out in search of the toddler. "Now I know why they call them terrible two-year-olds. I turn my back on him for two minutes and he disappears."

This time she didn't have to search far or long to find the boy. As soon as she entered the living room, she spied him standing at the screen door, stretching a small hand to reach the latch. A wry shake of her head sent her short, toffee-colored ponytail swaying.

"Come on, Tony. Let's go back to the kitchen." Sharon started across the room to retrieve the adventurous little boy. "Don't you want to help Sharon finish baking the cookies?"

Just before she reached him, he turned. The tow-headed boy's expression was animated with excitement, his blue eyes gleaming. "Horses, horses," he declared and swung around to press his face against the wire-mesh barrier.

With a sinking feeling, Sharon glanced through the screen toward the corral by the barn. A flaxen-maned chestnut horse had nudged the gate open and was taking its first tentative step to freedom. The five other horses in the corral, horses Sharon had contracted to train, were crowding into line behind their chestnut leader.

Her gaze never left the horse warily stepping through the opened gate as she scooped Tony off the floor and swung him onto her hip. She didn't dare leave him alone in the house while she chased the horses back into the corral. Heaven only knew what he'd get into; mischief seemed to be his middle name.

Sharon fumbled with the screen-door latch for a second, then pushed it open to race from the house. The sleek chestnut threw its head up and snorted in alarm at her approach. Her boots skimmed down the porch steps while Tony rode on her hip, laughing with delight.

"Huck! You spoiled, good-for-nothing animal! Get back in there!" she shouted at the troublesome horse, cursing its latest trick of opening the corral gate.

As the chestnut lunged to make good its escape, Sharon ran an intercepting course that would place her directly in the path of the horses and hopefully prevent them from bolting down the ranch lane to the road.

It wasn't easy doing that with Tony on her hip. She didn't dare set him on the ground. With his penchant for adventure, he'd get right into the thick of things, ignorant of any possible danger to himself. In the back of her mind, there was a silent tribute to her mother, who had probably coped with many similar situations raising her two children on this western Colorado ranch.

At her shrill whistles and waving arm, the chestnut horse broke stride. Its hesitation provided Sharon time to get in front of the horses. For a second, she thought the other horses pressing the lead chestnut from the rear might prod it into charging against her.

"Wave your arms and yell real loud, Tony," she enlisted the boy's help in raising a commotion to turn the horses. He thought it was all great fun and threw himself into this new game with such abandon that Sharon nearly dropped him.

The horses swerved, hooves clacking. She had stopped them from galloping down the lane, but herding them back into the corral was another thing. It became a frustrating game of tag. Sharon was able to contain them, but she couldn't coerce the horses to re-enter the fenced enclosure. If only she could get one inside, chances were the others would follow, but each time Sharon tried to lure the horses in, they shied away from the open gate.

Her cowboy boots were not designed for running over rough ground for long periods. Her leg muscles soon began to feel the strain, while Tony was getting heavier and heavier, his weight more awkward to balance. Her arm ached from holding him on her hip, and he didn't help the situation. Weary of the game, Tony wanted it to stop so he could pet the horses. His whining and demanding protests wore on her already frazzled nerves. She was hot and tired, choking on the dust churned up by the milling horses.

Sharon paused a second to catch her breath, wondering how on earth she was going to get the horses back in the corral on her own. Neither her parents nor her brother were due back until evening. She felt doomed.

From out of nowhere it seemed, a brown streak flashed by Sharon. It only took her half a second to recognize Sam, Ridge Halliday's cow dog. She overcame the impulse to turn around and locate its owner. The well-trained dog had already driven the loose horses into a tight circle and was pressing to herd them through the gate. All that was needed to accomplish the feat was her assistance.

With a burst of flagging energy, Sharon pushed forward. The flashy chestnut made one bold attempt to break from the pack, but the efficient cow dog smoothly turned it back. There was a rippling toss of the horse's flaxen mane, then it whirled and trotted meekly through the corral gate. The other horses followed single file.

While the dog guarded the opening, Sharon rushed to shut the gate. When she set Tony on the ground to secure the gate latch, the muscles in her arm vibrated uncontrollably from the prolonged strain of holding the child. As soon as the gate clicked shut, the panting dog ducked under the lower rail and trotted back to its master, obviously located somewhere behind her.

"Doggie, doggie." Tony lost interest in the horses to begin chasing the smaller, four-footed prey, his clutching hand outstretched in a supplicating gesture.

"Stay here, Tony," Sharon ordered sharply, fully aware the cow dog was not a pet. It required an economy of breath to speak, making her voice tautly low and impatient. "The doggie will bite you."

She spared a glance in Tony's direction long enough to ascertain that he was hesitating, unsure whether or not she was telling him the truth. There was the crunch of an unhurried stride approaching her from behind.

"Did somebody forget to shut the gate?" Ridge Halliday's low, drawling voice ran over her weary body with a soothing laziness.

"No. Wonder Horse in there," Sharon flicked an irritated look at the gleaming chestnut horse as it began walking docilely toward the gate where the humans were gathered, "opened the gate. Would you bring me a piece of that baling wire by the barn."

She pushed the waving sweep of caramel-colored hair off her perspiring forehead. She was marking time, postponing the moment when she actually had to look at Ridge, and knew it. But she needed the respite to marshal her carefully practiced, light-hearted friendliness.

If there was a course in adolescent crushes getting out of hand, Sharon could have qualified as an expert. Ridge Halliday was a fellow rancher in the basin and a contemporary of her brother -- and the embodiment of every woman's fantasy. It wasn't fair to any impressionable teenager to be exposed to a man like him.

As his long shadow fell across hers, Sharon recognized the real problem -- she was no longer a teenager, but that didn't stop a quiver of excitement from shooting through her. She took the proffered baling wire from his leather-gloved hand, her glance skimming him while she became irritated because of her hot and disheveled appearance.

An inch over six feet, Ridge had the loose-limbed ease of a rider about him. His long frame was hard and lean, not given to bulging muscles but a sinewed toughness. These same characteristics were stamped on his sun-browned features, except that his hard-bitten looks were made handsome by the lazy glint in his blue eyes and the grooves carved near the corners of his mouth that always seemed to suggest a lurking smile. A dusty brown cowboy hat was pulled low on his forehead, covering most of his mahogany-dark hair except at the back, where its shaggy length curled onto his shirt collar.

All in all, it was a potent combination of hard virility and a lazy sexual charm. There was a surface recklessness about him that seemed to hide the deadly serious side of him. Or so Sharon had always thought. Perhaps it was the case that he took his ranch and his work seriously -- and nothing else. There was no doubt in her mind that Ridge could be an outrageous flirt at times. Heaven knew he had flirted with her enough times to lead her into believing she meant something more to him than just his buddy's kid sister, only to learn the painful lesson that with Ridge it was a case of out of sight, out of mind.

While Sharon concentrated on wrapping the baling wire around the gate post and the gate, the blaze-faced chestnut hung its head over the gate and nuzzled her shoulder in an overture of friendship. But she refused to forgive the animal so easily.

"Unless you have wire cutters for teeth, you aren't going to be able to open the gate the next time," she informed the horse as she tightly twined the ends of the wire.

"Beautiful animal," Ridge remarked and stroked the sleek, muscled neck of the horse.

"Beauty is as beauty does," Sharon retorted. "And that horse is close to being worthless. He's the yearling Sue Ann Langford's father spent a fortune a couple years ago. She's spoiled him to the point where he's nearly ruined. It was a mistake ever to agree to train him for her. Huck is headstrong and unruly, tame as a puppy but completely undisciplined. He's been here only three days and already we've had to padlock the grain bin, nail his stall door shut -- and now this."

All her senses were so completely focused on Ridge that for a few moments Sharon had completely forgotten about her young charge until she heard a low growl coming from the mixed-breed dog. The warning growl alternated with an anxious whine as Sharon turned to see Tony crouched over and inching closer to the nervous dog unwilling to leave its master's side to escape the unwanted attention from the child.

In a high, little voice, Tony was trying to coax it to stay still. "Doggie. Nice doggie."

"I told you to leave the dog alone." Sharon moved, scooping Tony again into her aching arms while the dog wiggled with relief now that he was no longer being pursued by this small person. Tony struggled in her arms, wanting to be put down. "The last thing I need today is for you to get bitten," she muttered, because everything had seemed to go from bad to worse. "If it isn't one thing, it's another."

"Why don't you marry me and I'll take you away from all this?" Ridge declared lazily.

She swung around, facing him. He was leaning against the corral, an arm draped carelessly along the top rail, an easy familiarity in his blue eyes that was so unnerving. It didn't seem to matter how many times she heard that joking comment -- there was always a little leap of her pulse. But she had also learned not to wear her emotions on her sleeve.

With so much practice, her laugh came naturally. "If I ever said yes to that, you'd run so fast that we'd be seeing your dust for days. You're going to say that to the wrong girl one of these days and find yourself being sued for breach of promise," Sharon warned.

Ridge chuckled, amused rather than annoyed by her response. He pushed away from the fence to move toward her. "Have you got any coffee hot?" In the past, Ridge had frequented the Powell house too often not to feel he could invite himself in for coffee.

"No coffee, but I've got a batch of homemade cookies fresh from the oven," Sharon countered, adopting the role of friend and neighbor that had served her in such good stead the last three years.

"Leave it to a woman to know the way to a man's heart." Slanting her a lazy smile, Ridge hooked a hand companionably on her shoulder. Together they started for the house.

The idle weight of his hand made itself felt, but Sharon had learned how to deal with such things. She had stopped reading anything intimate into his attitude. An arm around her shoulders meant precisely nothing. A kiss here and there meant nothing. She had stopped making mountains out of molehills. She had put aside her childish dreams that someday Ridge would look at her and discover that she was something special. It simply wasn't going to happen. Over the years, she had finally come to accept that and it hadn't been easy.

At first, she had strongly considered leaving home -- leaving Colorado and seeking a job training horses somewhere. But something had warned her that Ridge's ghost would follow her and torment her with what-ifs and what-might-have-beens. So she had stayed -- to face the situation and come to grips with its harsh reality.

"I want my cookie," Tony complained with a demanding frown.

"Who is the little guy?" Ridge looked around her at the boy riding on her hip again. "I know I haven't seen you the last couple of times I've been over, but not even you can keep a toddler hidden this long."

As he spoke, his gaze ran down her slender curves. He knew very well the child wasn't hers, but it amused him to tease her with the possibility. Once such a remark would have aroused a blush. Now Sharon shrugged it off without a blink of an eye.

"Tony is Rita Campbell's little boy." Rita was an old schoolmate of Sharon's. They were still friends even though marriage, a home and a family, plus a part-time job had severely cut into the free time Rita could devote to that friendship. "Her regular sitter was sick today, so I volunteered to look after Tony," Sharon explained her unusual occupation. "You need to be three people to keep up with him."

In unison, they climbed the porch steps and crossed to the screen door. His hand slipped off her shoulder as he reached in front of her to open the door.

"Stay." It was a low-voiced order issued to the dog trailing after them. With a plaintive whine of protest, the dog obediently sat on its haunches to wait for its master.

Tony twisted around as Ridge closed the door, shutting the dog outside. "Doggie come in and play," he said to Sharon.

"No, the dog has to stay outside," she insisted. "Let's go out to the kitchen and see if somebody ate your cookies while we were gone."

"Doggie wants a cookie." Tony gave her a bright-eyed look that Sharon ignored.

"I take it you're here by yourself today," Ridge inserted.

"Yes. Mom and Dad and Scott are out at the South Meadow gathering the first-calf heifers. It always happens that way, doesn't it?" She smiled in his direction. "Livestock never gets out unless you're the only person around. You could have helped," she said in a half-accusation.

"You and Sam were doing all right," he replied with a faint grin. "I thought I should stay by the lane in case the horses got past the two of you."

"Sure," she mocked him with an exaggerated agreement. "The truth is you were standing back there so you could watch me racing around there like a mad hen with two-ton Tony on her hip." Upon entering the kitchen, she plunked Tony on his chair and pushed it up to the table. "You'd better finish your cookies and milk," she advised him, but he was still pouting because she wouldn't let the dog come in the house. He hung his head, his lower lip jutting out sullenly, and showed no interest in the cookies or milk.

Ridge wandered over to the kitchen counter where the cookies were cooling on the newspaper. "I'm going to be needing a couple of extra riders at Latigo the day after tomorrow. I stopped by to see if Scott might be able to shake free."

Latigo was the name of his ranch, which encompassed nearly a hundred square miles of Piceance Basin in western Colorado. The rough terrain of hill and gully was well suited for cattle ranching, and Latigo was one of the larger ones in the area.

"I'm sure Scott can help out," Sharon answered. Although her father and brother were ostensibly partners in their ranch, her brother often hired out for day work at neighboring ranches to lessen the drain on the ranch's finances and permit them to put more of the profits back into the ranch.

"Do you suppose I can persuade your mom to come along and cook for us -- and maybe swing a rope now and then?" He arched her a querying look as he bit into a cookie.

The corners of her mouth deepened with a faint smile. Her mother was widely respected and sought after as both a cook and a cowhand, although the approval of her skill on horseback was usually grudgingly given. Of course, her father gave full credit to his wife for working at his side and building their ranch from practically nothing to the modest holding it was today. Sharon admired her because even though her mother did a man's work, she never stopped being a woman. She didn't resort to cussing or rough talk to gain male acceptance as one of them. If anything, men respected her more for that.

"You'll have to ask Mom." Sharon didn't answer for her mother.

"What I should do is arrange some sort of package deal for the whole Powell family?" A slow smile widened the line of his mouth.

"That might be arranged." She laughed briefly, pleased by the subtle recognition of her worth as a working rider. After she washed her hands in the sink, she walked to the table to begin spooning the rest of the cookie dough onto the sheet pan. It was easier to keep busy while Ridge was around. It kept her from focusing too much attention on him. "Do you want me to have Scott call you tonight?'

"Yeah, why don't you do that?" he agreed and came over to the table to watch her, a fistful of cookies in his hand. He stood idly for a minute, then pulled out a chair to sit down.

When she carried the pan to the oven, she had to step over his long legs, his boots hooked one atop the other. Ridge always seemed so relaxed, and she always felt so tense. Turning back to the table, she deliberately shifted her attention to the pouting Tony.

"Drink your milk." She pushed the glass closer to him so it was within his reach.

"No. Don't want it," he refused sulkily. "It's warm. I want another glass."

A fresh glass of cold milk from the refrigerator would probably have only one swallow taken from it, then be left to sit as this one had been. In Sharon's opinion, that was a shameful waste.

"You have to drink this milk before you can have any more," she informed him.

"No." Tony slumped in the chair and peered up at her through tearful lashes.

"Don't be so mean," Ridge eyed her with mock reproval. "I don't blame the kid for not wanting warm milk. I don't either."

With an adult supporting his demand, Tony reasserted it, banging his feet against the chair in a slight temper display. "I want milk."

"You're a lot of help," she muttered to Ridge. "I tell him no and you undermine what little authority I have."

There was an amused glint in his eyes at her flash of anger. "There is a simple solution to this that will satisfy both you and Tony," Ridge insisted.

"What's that?" Sharon asked in skeptical challenge.

"Ice." After delivering his one-word answer, he rolled to his feet in a single motion and crossed to the refrigerator, removing a tray of ice cubes from the freezer compartment. "Tony still drinks the same glass of milk, but the ice will make it cold." Taking two cubes from the tray, he walked to the table and dropped them in Tony's glass. "You see?" An eyebrow quirked in Sharon's direction.

"I hope you're right." For some reason, she was still skeptical of his solution.

"Of course I'm right," Ridge said as Tony reached eagerly for the glass.

Instead of drinking the milk, Tony tried to scoop out the ice cubes, and Sharon understood why she had instinctively doubted the wisdom of Ridge's solution.

"No, Tony, don't play with the ice cubes," she admonished and pulled his stubby fingers out of the glass to dry them with a kitchen towel. She slid a dry glance at Ridge. "Terrific idea."

"Drink your milk and see if the ice made it cold." Ridge changed chairs, sitting in the one next to Tony offering him the glass again. "Once you drink all your milk, then you can have the ice cubes." With seeming obedience, Tony took a drink of his milk and Ridge shot a complacent glance at Sharon. "You just have to know how to handle children."

"And you're an expert, of course," she mocked. "How many children did you say you had?"

"None...that I know about," he qualified his answer with a roguish twinkle glittering in his eyes.

pardIt wasn't as if half the women in the county wouldn't have been willing to bear his child, Sharon thought. She turned away quickly to the oven to check on the cookies before her gaze lingered on the raw strength and maturity etched in his roughly hewn features. It was much too easy to love him -- and much too hard to stop.

The cookies were close enough to being done, so she removed the pan from the oven with the aid of a protective potholder and carried it to the counter. She concentrated on lifting them one by one from the sheet pan with the metal spatula so she could block out the physical impact of his presence.

"Scott mentioned you were planning on cutting back on the number of shows you're attending this year," he remarked.

"I think so," she admitted. "It's getting too expensive to haul horses to some of the distant shows. I thought I'd concentrate on the major shows in the immediate area. I can't quit the show ring altogether or I'll lose the chance of getting new horses to train." She was well aware that competing in stock and western pleasure classes brought her to the attention of owners willing to pay to have their horses trained by a professional. Her reputation as a trainer was growing -- and she had a roomful of trophies and ribbons to prove it.

As she turned to carry the empty cookie sheet to the table, she saw Tony slyly dipping his hand into the milk glass. "Tony -- "

At her sharply reprimanding tone, he jerked his hand out of the glass. The suddenness of his action tipped the glass over, spilling the milk -- right into Ridge's lap.

"Now look what you've done, Tony." But she couldn't keep the smile out of her voice as she deposited the cookie sheet on the table and reached for the towel. Her hazel eyes were dancing with laughter when she met Ridge's glance. "Was the milk cold?" she murmured innocently.

The anger went out of his expression as quickly as it had come in. "You know damned well it was," he muttered with a half smile and took the towel she offered to blot up the excess wetness.

"The ice cubes were your idea." Sharon took delight in reminding him of the fact.

"Maybe father doesn't always know best," Ridge conceded with a rueful look and stood up to wipe at the front of his jeans where the wet blotch spread onto his thigh. "There's one consolation. Milk is probably the cleanest thing that's touched these jeans lately."

The faded material was dusty and dirt-stained, but Sharon was more conscious of the way the work-worn fabric snugly shaped itself to his hips and thighs like a second skin. It turned her thoughts in a direction that had no place in the kitchen.

The spilled milk that hadn't initially landed on Ridge was now dripping off the edge of the table. Sharon grabbed the dishcloth from the sink and mopped up the milky film on the table. All the while Tony stayed very quiet and very small, not wanting to draw further attention to himself in an attempt to avoid possible punishment. He looked sufficiently chagrined so that Sharon didn't feel anything more needed to be said.

As she returned to the sink to rinse the dishcloth under the faucet, Ridge followed her. "I'm afraid your towel is soiled," he said, acknowledging it had picked up some of his dirt along with the milk.

"It'll wash."

Copyright © 1983 by Janbill, Ltd.

Most helpful customer reviews

1 of 7 people found the following review helpful.
Western Man and Leftover Love
By Barbara J. Burek
Enjoyed the short stories. Stories kept you interested. Would read more of the Authors books.

2 of 2 people found the following review helpful.
Western Stories
By Ruth Thompson
Sharon is determined to win Ridge and Layne is determine to win Creed. The short stories are fast moving tales that you can finish when you don't have a lot of time to sit and read. Their themes are the same but the plots put you into very different situations. By Ruth Thompson author of "Natchez Above The River"

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
More good stories
By Chris T.
Janet Dailey has a fantastic knack for getting to the reader...emotionally...even if it's frustration with a situation of a story...Sometimes you just want to shake these characters and say, "HEY! Can't you see what's going on here?!"...I guess, just in the way you may want to with some people in real life ;) Thank you, Janet, for two more good stories :)

See all 7 customer reviews...

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Selasa, 18 Februari 2014

^ Download Ebook Turning Thirty, by Mike Gayle

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Turning Thirty, by Mike Gayle

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Turning Thirty, by Mike Gayle

What's the big deal?
Unlike a lot of people, Matt Beckford is actually looking forward to turning thirty. His twenties really weren't so great...and now he has his love life, his career, his finances -- even his record collection -- pretty much in order, like any good grown-up should. But when, out of the blue, Elaine announces she "can't do this anymore," Matt is left with the prospect of facing the big three-oh alone. Compounding his misery is the fact that he has to move back in with his parents.
What's it all about, Alfie?
Mum and Dad immediately start driving Matt up the wall, and emails from Elaine and nights out with his old school chum Gershwin aren't enough to snap Matt out of his existential funk. So he decides to track down more old schoolmates and see how they're handling this thirty thing. One by one, he gets in touch with the rest of the magnificent seven -- Pete, Bev, Katrina, Elliot, and Ginny, his former on-off girlfriend -- and soon the old gang is back together. But they're a lot older and a lot has changed and, even if he and Ginny still seem attracted to each other, you can't have an on-off girlfriend when you're thirty. Can you?

  • Sales Rank: #2975755 in Books
  • Published on: 2005-11-08
  • Released on: 2005-11-08
  • Original language: English
  • Number of items: 1
  • Dimensions: 8.25" h x .90" w x 5.31" l, 1.10 pounds
  • Binding: Paperback
  • 357 pages

From Publishers Weekly
Brit Matt Beckford and girlfriend Elaine agree, one evening in their Brooklyn apartment, that while they love each other, they're no longer in love, and break up. Reassessing as his 30th birthday looms, Matt arranges to relocate to Australia and decides to show up at his parents' doorstep in England to kill the three months until he's needed at his new job. A good deal of time is spent on philosophizing, punctuated by hand-wringing transcontinental e-mail exchanges with Elaine (who works at a big-shot PR firm and worries over the time spent e-mailing Matt). Matt ends up reuniting with his old high school gang, including onetime friend-with-benefits Ginny. Soon, he's wondering if he should spend the rest of his life with her... and Elaine decides to visit. On one level, this reads like straight chick lit, with stock characters and familiar entering-adulthood coupling situations. But Gayle, author of Dinner for Two and two other U.K.-only titles, gives Matt's first person nice twists of out-of-touch unreliability, and makes Elaine, as suddenly forlorn e-mailer, comic. Readers who have lived beyond 30, or even 25, will know instantly that most of their self-justifications are BS—just as all the to-ing and fro-ing is inevitable—and smile to themselves. (Nov.)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

From Booklist
British novelist Gayle, author of My Legendary Girlfriend (2002) and Dinner for Two (2004), tackles the big 3-0 in his latest novel to hit stateside. Matt Beckford has a good job in New York and lives with his beautiful girlfriend, Elaine. But when Elaine breaks up with him, Matt finds himself on a new course, requesting a transfer and moving back home to Birmingham to live with his parents in the interim. Matt is none too thrilled by the prospect of turning 30 while living in his childhood home, but he finds himself revisiting his youth by reconnecting with two old friends: his best friend, Gershwin, now married with a young daughter, and Ginny, the girl who was never quite Matt's girlfriend but with whom he shared a strong connection. Readers, especially those approaching 30 or just past it, will especially relate to the struggles of Matt and his friends to find direction and love in the face of a benchmark birthday. Kristine Huntley
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved

Review
"A warm, funny romantic comedy."
-- Daily Mail

"Mike Gayle has carved a whole new literary niche out of the male confessional novel. He's a publishing phenomenon."
-- Evening Standard (London)

"Delightfully observant nostalgia...will strike a chord with both sexes."
-- She (Book of the Month)

Most helpful customer reviews

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Five Stars
By Amazon Customer
Came pretty fast. Exactly as describe very good quility. Thank you

4 of 4 people found the following review helpful.
Good book about a painful subject
By Bearette24
Mike Gayle makes a point about how our society values perpetual youth, so that when people turn 30, they freak out. I went through it myself in July. Thankfully, the book is written with a lot of humor so that a potentially painful subject becomes entertaining.

Our protagonist, Matt Beckford, is a likable guy. A British expat, he's living with his girlfriend in New York. The problem is, his girlfriend doesn't feel the spark anymore, and neither does he, although they're great friends. After an almost unbelievably amicable parting, Matt goes home to England to live with his parents for four months between jobs. (He's getting transferred to the Australia office of his software development company in four months).

Once he's in England, Matt catches up with all his old mates from high school, who are all nearing 30 or already turned. He also encounters Ginny Pascoe, a sort-of girlfriend from high school. In the past, they constantly hooked up, but they never had a real relationship. Ginny is dating someone now, but she and Matt start spending a lot of time together. Matt also stays in touch with Elaine via email as he tries to figure out how he feels about turning 30 and his life in general.

Mike Gayle has not really caught on in the US, that I can see, and that strikes me as a shame. His books always have likable, funny, immediately relatable characters. They happen to be very funny as well.

My one complaint about this book was the ending. It wasn't predictable at all, but it wasn't entirely satisfying. However, he may write a sequel, because this is the book most of his fans have asked him to write a sequel to. I'm looking forward to it!

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
fine contemporary character study
By A Customer
As he closed in on the Big 3-0 computer expert Matt Beckford feels pretty good about his future after the past somewhat tumultuous decade. His symbols that he is making it are his wine rack with wine and his girlfriend Elaine. However, as the countdown to maturity continues, Matt suffers several setbacks starting with an amiable split with Elaine and ending with his forced exile from New York to return to his hometown of Birmingham, England to live under his parents' roof while he prepares for a move to Australia.

As the countdown continues, Matt meets friends from his schooldays, which make him ponder the two key teenage questions of life: "What am I going to do with my life?" and "Will I ever get a girlfriend?" He soon moves in with an occasional former lover Ginny Pascoe, who lets him use her spare room. To his shock he is falling in love with his hostess even while Elaine tries to reheat their transatlantic relationship.

Thought the latter half of this fine contemporary character study seems less insightful and amusing than Matt's earlier splashdown, fans will enjoy this hunk-lit tale of aging. Matt is a terrific lead character as he informs with asides to the audience that all his teen doubts have returned though he inches towards thirty, that his last year or two was a false facade and wonders when maturity will actually come and stay. Fans will appreciate TURNING THIRTY as Matt begins to realize that from the day you are perceived you grow old; he hopes in his case a little more gracefully.

Harriet Klausner

See all 16 customer reviews...

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Kamis, 13 Februari 2014

@ Free Ebook The Real America: Messages from the Heart and Heartland, by Glenn Beck

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The Real America: Messages from the Heart and Heartland, by Glenn Beck

Glenn Beck has entertained, inspired, and informed millions with his self-effacing humor, heartfelt conviction, and down-to-earth approach to life. And in The Real America, a powerful collection of his early writings, he calls it as he sees it, cutting through the fog of those who have made it their mission to underestimate -- and undermine -- the greatness of America and the power of "We the People." Whether the topic is family, religion, personal responsibility, rampant political correctness, presidential elections, or out-of-control celebrities, Glenn Beck rails against the forces that keep us from uniting and fulfilling our potential and explains how to overcome them. His compelling, patriotic, and spiritually driven message will inspire you to connect with your own power and help lead us back to that place that is quickly being forgotten...THE REAL AMERICA.

  • Sales Rank: #472207 in Books
  • Brand: Gallery Books
  • Published on: 2005-01-01
  • Released on: 2005-01-01
  • Original language: English
  • Number of items: 1
  • Dimensions: 9.00" h x .70" w x 6.00" l, .63 pounds
  • Binding: Paperback
  • 272 pages
Features
  • Great product!

About the Author
Glenn Beck, the nationally syndicated radio host and founder of TheBlaze television network, is a thirteen-time #1 bestselling author and is one of the few authors in history to have had #1 national bestsellers in the fiction, nonfiction, self-help, and children’s picture book genres. His recent fiction works include the thrillers Agenda 21, The Overton Window, and its sequel, The Eye of Moloch; his many nonfiction titles include Conform, Miracles and Massacres, Control, and Being George Washington. For more information about Glenn Beck, his books, and TheBlaze TV network, visit GlennBeck.com and TheBlaze.com.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter 1: The Real Americans and the Real America

In my faith we have temples, and they are kept spotless and clean. The only place more sacred than the temple is your own home, and your home is to be kept just as clean and in order. Now, I don't mean, "Get out the vacuum, kids!" clean. I mean the kind of clean that keeps something sacred.

In the Real America, the most sacred place on earth is your home, and your home is a refuge. It's a shelter. In the Real America your home is the center of your universe and the center of your home is the dinner table, the most important piece of furniture you have. It doesn't have to be fancy -- it just has to be comfortable, so that everybody likes to be in that room and around that table.

In the Real America we will all be very busy -- just as we are now -- but we'll also be busy doing other people's work, not just our own. We'll be busy helping people -- and that doesn't have to mean strangers. That also means we'll help our kids, we'll spend time listening to them, talking to them -- just being with them.

In the Real America, we count on the members of our extended family. Our families provide us with an endless supply of hope, love and joy. It doesn't necessarily always happen now, but in the Real America, our greatest support will come from the family and our extended families.

In the Real America, I will be able to change. I will know I can conquer my past and be the person I want to be. We can become better people, and our families will continue to give us support.

In today's America you can do this, but many of us no longer believe it's possible. Ten years ago I was a bitter, hopeless alcoholic who hated people. In a few short years filled with difficulty, but mainly joy, I changed. I am happy now, hopeful, sober, and I only dislike people for really valid reasons. This book is not a self-help book, but by the end of it you will, once again, believe that you can change the world, your business, your family and yourself.

I have found there are four steps to change:


  • 1. You must want it.
  • 2. You must believe it.
  • 3. You must live it.
  • 4. You will become it.


If you read on from here you already want it. Over the coming pages we will focus on the second point. Not only will you believe in the Real America, you will believe that we deserve it and that we can achieve it.

The United States is still a capitalist society, but capitalism in the Real America will be an enlightened way to wealth. Sure, some people will always try to make a buck by squeezing the little people, but in the Real America, I'll be able to make more money -- I'll be able to make more of a profit -- by treating employees with dignity and giving them access to non-governmental health care and paying them what they deserve. In the Real America, the employee will be a partner and we'll all enrich one another.

In the Real America our current plastic politicians will be replaced by the more genuine, lifelike and human robots in Disney's Hall of Presidents. Actually, partisan politics is a tough topic to tackle, but we will, starting with chapter 4 -- Everything You Need to Know About Partisan Politics.

Basically, Real Politics in this better America will be based on principle not policy: Real Ethics, Real Values, Real Integrity. As Real Americans, we will not expect to agree with everything a certain politician says, but we will be able to demand that politicians always say what they mean and mean what they say. The Real American Politician will look us in the eyes and say, "Look, Jack, you may completely disagree with me on this one issue, but here are these eight other issues on which we do agree. And more important, we agree on principles. And that's just the way it is. If you can vote for me, great. If not, I understand 'cause I don't need this job badly enough to lie to you or myself."

Martin Luther King's dream will come true in the Real America: a colorblind society -- but without political correctness. Unfortunately, King's dream has been perverted and twisted by so many, white and black alike, that it is barely recognizable today. In the Real America, we will know that white men aren't racist; one man can be racist. Black men aren't lazy; one man can be lazy and racism is not an American problem, it's a human problem.

The Real America is the America we all saw on the evening of September 11 and in the days and weeks that followed, but without violence, without sorrow, without mourning. It is an America where the question "How are you?" is sincerely asked, and the answer is heard with real concern.

The Real America is a place in our hearts. It's authentic. It's a place we remember. And it's a place we can live in today.

But there are forces keeping us from being the Real Americans and living in the Real America: Now, I'm not one of those people pointing a finger at Hollywood or blaming political correctness or pointing the finger at television or blaming music, because it's not just that.

But it is just that. It's all of that...and one thing more.

The most insidious force keeping us from being the Real Americans is ourselves.

A Different Background Noise

You see, most Real Americans don't even know that they are the Real Americans. They've been trapped in a box that other people built for them, and they think that box is real. They have no idea that it's all a delusion.

It's amazing. David Copperfield couldn't pull this off, and he hooked up with Claudia Schiffer.

So what's the trick? What's the sleight-of-hand?

Somehow, the background noise has changed on us.

Somehow most Americans have been convinced that we don't have the heart we do, that we don't have the power we do. As individuals or a group, this has happened subtly.

When we were kids, we had the Leave It to Beaver generation; we had Gilligan's Island. I remember watching that show later in life and thinking, "What a stupid show." But I continued to watch it and laugh with it. Mind you -- with it, not at it. I guess because it was pure.

I mean, there was absolutely nothing really offensive or even challenging about watching Gilligan's Island, except perhaps the class warfare between Lovey Howell and Mary Ann, and maybe the hat-slapping abuse on the part of the Skipper perpetrated on Gilligan.

But that was the world we lived in. That was our background noise: soft and silly. Sex was implied in a white, sequined gown, and violence came only in the shape of the Skipper's hat.

Then, when I was growing up in the 1970s, there was a show that almost didn't make it on television: Three's Company. Why? Because Jack Tripper lived with two women -- and there wasn't even anything going on! But still there were many who thought it was offensive. That's how quiet the background noise was back then. Even Three's Company seemed loud.

People will always say, "Look at television today! Look what's happening with television! This is an outrage! This is destroying the fabric of our country!"

No, it's not.

They can put Three's Company on, they can put Friends on, they can put anything on -- name the most offensive television show that comes to mind -- how about The Sopranos -- they could have put that on in our Leave It to Beaver world, and it wouldn't have destroyed the fabric of the Cleaver family. Because the Cleavers wouldn't have embraced it. In fact, they wouldn't have even tolerated it, and they certainly wouldn't have invited Tony Soprano into their home at 9:00 P.M. on a Sunday night.

Ward Cleaver is not going to go out to the Bada Bing Club to do blow off a hooker's belly just because he watched one TV show!

But what happened to us between Leave It to Beaver and The Sopranos is that more of the background noise changed.

In the Leave It to Beaver years, the background noises were things like Goodness, Common Decency and Courtesy. You can't even hear those noises any more.

Today the background noise is "Death with Video Games." It's "Rudeness." It's "No Patience." It's "Violent Television." It's "Sexuality Directly Being Marketed to Kids." It's your son laughing as he's shooting a cop in a video game. It's your daughter with a tank top that says porn star, hot pants that say bootylicious and, of course, underneath...the kiddie thong.

Oh, the noise. Listen to it. Look at the billboards. Look at the magazines. See what's on television.

And then look at what you allow in your own home -- your temple.

That's why we're having so much trouble. The background noises we allow in our homes keep our homes from being sacred places and keep them from being a shelter from the relentless storm of background noise.

And that's just one part of it. That's where it starts -- in the home.

It all starts with Gilligan.

Political Correctness Hasn't Changed Our Hearts

Then comes the classic Great Idea Gone Wrong: political correctness.

Now, as the dad of a child with cerebral palsy, I can tell you that no family is hit more to the core by handicap jokes than the family of a handicapped kid. So when ten or fifteen years ago somebody said, "Hey, let's call them 'handy-capable' -- it'll make them feel better," I thought, "Well, okay, if saying that can make them feel better, I don't want to be mean. I don't want to hurt people. I want to live together and be kind and courteous...."

So I got on the bandwagon. "Yeah, you know, handy-capable is not such a bad idea...." I'm into empowering people.

But over time I realized: Handy-capable is as good an idea and as long lasting as Star Jones in a marshmallow boat.

Hey -- you're not capable, otherwise I wouldn't be building a ramp in front of every building in America.

You're not capable of walking up the stairs -- and that's okay.

So what happens is we start on this good path, with good intent, and we end up head first through the windshield picking the grill of a Mack truck out of our teeth. All political correctness has done is shut us all up. It hasn't changed anybody's mind. Instead it's taken every opinion we have, it's taken every joke that we have, and it's forced us to conceal them and hide them and bury them deeper.

We no longer really know what our neighbors think anymore, we don't actually know what our co-workers believe -- because what they really believe is hidden.

This is a dangerous place in which to dwell. Remember, serial killers are always described by neighbors as "quiet."

Political correctness hasn't changed our hearts -- it's just changed our faces.

That's one of the biggest problems we have as Real Americans: What we have in our hearts, we don't share. We've been beaten into feigning bogus compassion by not noticing the difference between me and the guy who should be hanging from a tool belt because he's so handy and capable.

We've been convinced that life is all about the superficial stuff. We've been convinced because we see it in commercials, we see it on television, we see it from Hollywood, we see it from our co-workers, we even see it from our own family. It's all about money, power, greed...stuff. And we think the whole world is like that, because that's the image that we're given all the time.

And so when we're driving in our cars we sometimes think, "I wish I could live in a neighborhood that's quiet and flag-lined, where the neighbors are all next door to one another and they care about me and my family. And when somebody moves in, they bake a pie or a cake or a loaf of bread" -- like a neighbor did for me -- "a neighborhood where, on summer mornings, the air is filled with the sound of screen doors slamming shut as the kids run out to play and mothers' voices cry out, "Just be home for dinner."

But because we no longer speak our minds or hearts, we think that it is just us who miss the neighborhoods we grew up in. We never realize we too can bring bread over to the neighbors. We never realize that the neighbors are pining for that too.

I moved into my neighborhood, and this family across the street actually baked a loaf of bread and brought it to my family. I didn't know these people from Adam, but they wanted to live in the same kind of neighborhood that I want to live in. In today's cynical world it's tough to know whether to say thank you or test the bread for smallpox.

But the Real America has to start somewhere. Maybe it starts with a loaf of bread.

But when you're driving in your car and you hear someone on the radio saying, "Oh, well, this is what the neighborhood really can be like," you think, "Yeah, I'd like to live like that...."

But you don't say it. You never say it out loud, because you think it's just you -- that you're being silly, corny or out of touch -- because every image you're presented with shows the exact opposite of that.

Political correctness has made us superficial liars. But in the Real America there will be no need for PC because we will talk to one another and those who are handy may just not be capable and vice versa.

Commercialism

Commercialism is another great obstacle standing in our way.

Believe me I know about commercialism. It's my job. If I couldn't get companies to put products on my show that we could sell, I wouldn't be doing my radio show. I'd be selling Hush Puppies and talking into a shoehorn -- or I'd be a homeless guy doing card tricks on a cardboard box for booze -- or God forbid it would ever get this bad: I'd be a trial lawyer.

And by the way, you just bought this book, so you know all too well that it's about selling people stuff. For us to do that -- for me to sell to you -- I have to either create a need or else capitalize on one.

For example, you listen to my program because you want this America that I'm talking about. It's a need. You want to believe it's true. And so when I say, "Go out and buy this book," if your need is great enough you will, because this book may help you fill that hole. We do that with all kinds of products from clothes with little Polo ponies to cars with German emblems on the hoods. But your appetite is never satisfied. These things are empty. Perhaps the $25 you spend on this product will break that mold. Because what you'll find between these covers won't make you look cooler or arrive in style, but it may empower you to change.

Well, now, understand that every piece of media you see, everything that spills out of your television, your radio, the movies, your magazines -- everything is to get you to buy something. That's the only reason all that stuff exists. That is why in the chapter on business I will tell you that companies in the future can succeed beyond their wildest dreams by breaking that mold -- if they understand that we are on to them and that we're looking for real value in our lives. Those businesses that provide quality products with real value and understand the concept of strategic partnerships, will become the Wal-Marts and Microsofts of tomorrow.

But now people are working on you twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week to find your needs, capitalize on them and fill those holes with meaningless junk.

Even more frightening is the realization that our children -- now this is new -- from the time of birth, are being marketed to. And they're being told they're not cool unless they have these clothes or they listen to this group or they do these things. They're told they're not complete unless they "Obey their thirst," or "Just do it" or "Taste the freshness of...."

And children market to their parents. That's why Disney and fast-food chains market to children, because they know how hard it is for us to say no to our kids.

But going to see the mouse or having the labels read Armani still doesn't fill the gaping hole Madison Avenue has expanded.

And unless we can connect with what is real, our children will get lost. Our nation gets lost because that hunger will need to be fed again and again with materialism, sex, violence or drugs.

I, as a thirty-nine-year-old man, want the new car, whatever it is. Why?

Do you know why the Model T's were all black? Henry Ford wanted to create something everybody would buy once. They were all black and you'd buy it once and everybody would have the same thing, until somebody finally said, "Hey, Henry, we can make a lot more money if we start making different models and start souping them up each year. We can actually get people to say, "Well, I have the old one -- I'd rather have the new one!"

That's called creating the need. The cars originally were built to last a lifetime. Now they're built with plastic radiators to last four or five years, and it's time for a new one. That need exists, but it is not real.

The reason I hope people will read this book, is that they know -- something inside of them tells them that this is true, that this better America exists and it is not about consumption -- it's genuine.

Everything else in the world is telling you it doesn't exist, and the reason it's telling you that is that many of the hucksters have been beaten into cynics or they just want to make money off of you or both.

Cynicism and money have very little to do with the Real America.

TV News

I wrestle with this one a lot, because TV news is very similar to what I do -- just with pictures. Even though I am not a journalist -- thank God -- I am a social commentator. I have to fill three hours every day, and until you try to fill three hours every day on a slow news day, you have no idea what a living nightmare it really is.

It's dental surgery -- Marathon Man kind of stuff.

You have to fill the air with something -- anything.

I have the blessing of being able to fill it -- at times -- with something of intrinsic value. When there's nothing happening, I can go one of two ways: I can talk about life stuff in a Jerry Seinfeld fashion and do some mindless comedy, or I can talk about life stuff in a philosophical sort of way. So I have the extremes of either pleasant nothing or real substance when TV news is covering just nothing, car chases and partisan politics.

TV news doesn't have my luxury. They have to tell you what's going on even when there's nothing going on. They have to continue to pound that nothing that's going on with "Here's why this nothing is so important to you!"

They have to have these overhyped and outrageous TV news commercials where they say things like, "Your children may be dead by seven tonight -- find out what you could have done to save them tonight at ten!"

It's ridiculous, but to get you to watch, they have to be passionate about everything they cover -- and that's impossible. I only have three hours to fill and that's hard enough. But we have three cable news networks going for twenty-four hours a day!

Do the math on that: That's just under seventy-five hours -- every day! That's why you see helicopters flying around taping idiots in Los Angeles just driving through their neighborhoods. It's almost to the point where I could expect to see: "Yeah...Chopper 7 here with breaking news. We are following a suspect now who has just come out of the Albertsons...wait a minute, it looks like the man has some sort of bag....Oh my gosh, Bill, there may be a bomb in that bag....Don't anyone panic, we'll keep watching him."

He went to the grocery store! There are groceries in the bag. But there's nothing else going on, so they all follow him around in a helicopter!

In our studios, we have ten television monitors to keep an eye on the news channels and it's like clockwork: You'll see one go to the story and then -- bink! bink! bink! -- the other three will go to it too. There will be a small Cessna in trouble and MSNBC will say, TERROR IN THE SKY, and Fox News will say, LEOPARDY IN THE JETSTREAM and CNN will say, REPUBLICANS ABOUT TO KILL SMALL CHILDREN IN CESSNA, and you'll think, "What's happened? Another hijacking?"

What's happened is that a small Cessna over Iowa lost one of its landing gears. WILL THE PEOPLE ALL DIE? They'll cover it for forty minutes until it lands and nothing happens. But they will show it and you will watch it because they know you want something to happen. You don't want them to die, but they're no longer real people. They have become a TV show.

That's the scary thing about reality television. TV news is the ultimate reality television. You're not watching this because the people in the plane are real people for whom you feel concern -- you don't even know who those people are. You're watching it because something might happen, those people might be killed. The people in the plane become contestants on the real Survivor, and we watch to see who will make it and who will not.

Real Americans don't root for people to die.

But TV news is feeding us something, and we're eating it.

So what am I saying? That the people who make TV news are as evil as the people who make Doritos. I want Doritos, but please stop feeding me Doritos. I have to beg my children to take away those Doritos or I'll eat the whole bag.

It's the same with TV news. You will sit there, and you will watch it, and you will consume the whole thing, and then nothing will have happened, and you'll say, "Why did they cover that? Why did I watch that? Look at how they hype that up!"

It's just like me eating the Doritos and afterward saying, "I shouldn't be eating those. Why did I eat those? Why did you let me eat those?"

TV news is just more empty calories, more background noise, something else that keeps us from being the Real Americans.

Hollywood

Hollywood really needs to have a giant razor-wire fence built around it.

You know, we raised more than $443,000 for the USO for the Rallies for America. My next fund-raising project will be to raise the money to fence Hollywood in, because it's a zoo. They are nothing but weird alien life forms, and some sort of monkey/man hybrids. And like I do at any zoo, I want to be able to visit and gawk at the animals, but we need to make sure none of them escape and roam free in our neighborhoods. They sit in their Malibu beach homes and they have no idea who the Real Americans are.

When Madonna came out with her song "American Life," she actually chastised America and said, "Americans have their priorities in the wrong place. They're all about money, fame, power and sex."

What??? Madonna is saying this to me?

I swear, I read that and I thought, somewhere between my bed and the door, there was a wormhole or a parallel-universe gate that I just slipped through, because this America doesn't make any sense when Madonna is pulling a William Bennett on me.

But again, I don't really blame Hollywood, because Hollywood is giving us what we're asking for. We're consuming gleefully what they're serving us.

The problem is: Which is reality? They're giving it to us because we're demanding it, but the Hollywood crowd believes that the world they create for us is the real world.

I'm on the opposite side. I believe that Hollywood shows us our darker side. The real world is the America of goodness, families, values and caring about our neighbors. Not just consuming more sex, violence, fortune and fame.

One of us is right: Either Hollywood knows that this is the Real America, this is the real world, or I'm right. Our core is either the values -- the principles, not the policies -- of America or it's what you see coming out of Hollywood. It's either "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness" or it's sex, drugs and rock and roll.

I don't want to live in Hollywood, USA.

Take it all the way down to what some would say is an inane show, the Gilligan's Island of our day. Take it down to Friends.

Now I love Friends. But Friends is not real life.

There was a study done that found that average Americans who watch Friends actually believe that they have more friends than those who don't watch Friends.

They actually consider the people they watch on television to be their friends -- subconsciously.

They're not your friends!

They're actors! First clue: It's a fantasy. Who in New York can have the crummy jobs they have and live in apartments like that? And in real life Jennifer Aniston goes for Brad Pitt...not Joey and definitely not Ross -- because if Ross has a shot, you have a shot. And you don't have a shot.

Again it goes back to commercialism: NBC was considering doing an interactive television show where your TV set has a mouse. So, when you're watching Friends and you like a lamp, you just click on it. It'll give you the price, put it on your credit card and ship it to you! (Can you click on Jennifer Aniston?)

It's not about entertaining you -- it's about selling you stuff.

And it's certainly not about friendship.

That's one kind of lie that comes out of Hollywood, one that we gleefully consume.

The other includes that marriage doesn't matter, that family can be in any shape or form that you want, that the government of America is something that we should significantly distrust and that socialism ain't that bad an idea.

That message comes from the Barbra Streisands and Susan Sarandons of the world -- or of HollyWorld. I don't think that lie is as destructive as the other stuff, because nobody really relates to Susan Sarandon or Barbra Streisand. Most people see them for what they are: They're entertainers.

Hey, entertainers: Shut the pie hole and entertain us!

It's the subtle nature of the other stuff, because they present you this picture of this-is-how-life-is and you accept it, assuming that you're just different from everybody else or that there's something wrong with you.

Here's something that I learned early as a broadcaster, something that scared me. For years I did morning radio, and for a time I thought what I did could really be something quite insidious, because I had people in twilight sleep. I had people who would listen just after the alarm would go off.

I was talking directly to their subconscious.

So many times I would hear people say, "You are so funny. I heard you say something this morning but I can't remember what it was."

They were laughing in their sleep. "Ooohhh...," I used to think, "if I would just use my power for good as opposed to evil...."

And that's why when Susan Sarandon comes out and says that she disagrees with conservative values, it's totally fine with me. We are wide awake and her message is clear -- just as it is when you listen to Rush Limbaugh. He's not fooling anyone, nor is he trying to. He and Susan are calling it as they see it and are speaking clearly and in no uncertain terms.

The true power hides in the shadows -- the subtle lies disguised as pure entertainment or news. Just as I was in morning drive, the writers of Will and Grace are talking to people who are mentally half asleep. People are tuning in for entertainment, but they are also getting a message -- maybe one they wouldn't necessarily purchase -- those messages are only processed through the subconscious. Therefore the viewer begins to tolerate, accept or embrace the moral values of those characters on the program. People love to yell about how dangerous talk radio is. How is that possible? You tune in, knowing exactly what you are getting. Someone with an opinion, spouting that opinion. After that, it's up to you to decide if he is right, wrong or mentally challenged. It's far more dangerous to be presenting a social agenda hidden behind a vehicle that is there just to entertain. The defenses are down, and there is no questioning.

We may be half asleep, but once we recognize the messages around us we can choose what background noise we hear.

Global Scale

Maybe one of the biggest things that stops us from living in the Real America is our global scale.

Fifty or a hundred years ago, your scale was your little home or your farm. I had an old farmhouse that I bought in Cheshire, Connecticut, which was built in the 1800s. I did the worst thing known to man -- I bought a house that a real estate agent described as "quaint."

If you're from New England, you know that "quaint" equals "nightmare."

So I bought this "quaint" (nightmarish) little house that needed a "little restoration" (read as: tear it down). Now, growing up in Seattle, where the oldest thing around was from 1920, I had no idea what a 150-year-old house meant, except that it was "picturesque" (read: run down).

It was a home that was built when Millard Fillmore was president. Yeah, I'm an idiot.

It all started with a closet: I just wanted a new closet, but once we took that one wall down, the ceiling started to sag, and within twenty-four hours we had to gut the entire house to the outer walls.

It was great. Ever see the movie The Money Pit?

But in the wall I found an old letter. When the people who built the house were doing the plastering, evidently they put old things in the walls -- newspapers, photos, clothing. I found a letter from a sister of the woman who lived in the house and she said, "I can't tell you how much I miss being at home. I miss the town, I miss seeing you so much, and I talked with my husband, and we're going to bring the kids out, maybe this Christmas. Oh, how I miss the sound of the sleighbells ringing through the trees and hills."

I thought, "She must be living on the other side of the country. Where could she have moved to?"

The return address on the letter was the next town over, maybe twenty minutes down the road -- by car. It's where I would go and get my groceries. It wasn't a long journey for me, but for her, it was the other side of the earth.

That's the way it used to be.

Now the other side of earth is the other side of earth -- and even that's close. When we can watch somebody in Tiananmen Square stand in front of a tank and defy it -- and we're with them, live -- or when we can see people on the other side of the planet tearing down a statue of a dictator -- and our brothers and sisters are there, helping them do it, live -- that's incredible.

That's no longer the other side of the planet. That's the other side of the street.

But seeing things like war and terrorism live has another effect on us. We see these problems that are on such a huge scale: You've got France and Russia, Germany, the United Nations, Osama bin Laden and George Bush all battling on this global scale while we're sitting there in our homes and easy chairs, eating those Doritos and drinking diet soda. We're watching these global events, and we think we're completely insignificant. We think we can't change anything, because this problem is just too big.

Everything is like that now.

It seems we don't matter anymore.

When the woman who wrote that letter would go in to have her sleigh fixed, she would go to someone who lived right down the street. He knew her and she knew him. They'd talk every day and if the guy didn't fix it right -- they lived in the same town, they knew each other -- they'd have the problem fixed or they'd have to settle it. Back then, this close sense of neighborhood was born out of necessity.

In the Real America, people will choose to care. You've heard of virtual reality. The Real America will exist with a "virtual proximity."

How many times have you sat all day waiting for the cable man to show up? And you know what? They don't have to show up. They don't care if they show up. They don't care if you complain. "Stand in line, we'll get somebody else to buy cable and show them our crap." You could burst into flames and they wouldn't put you out if they had a fire extinguisher in their hands.

And that goes from the cable man to the United Nations. It's all the same thing: You're being convinced that you don't matter anymore, that you can't make a difference.

But that's the big lie.

Take it from a recovering alcoholic and drug user, cocaine ain't the big lie. The big lie is that "You don't matter."

You do make a difference. Every single person makes a difference.

But you have to want it first and believe it second.

Politics: Policy versus Principle

Politics keep us from being the Real Americans in several ways. (Again, please read chapter 4, Everything You Need to Know About Partisan Politics.) It distracts us from seeing what the real issues are; politics is not the real world -- it's just politics.

Now I hear this from people whether they dislike George Bush or Bill Clinton -- it doesn't matter who the president is, and it doesn't matter what the party is. The person opposing that person, president or party will always say, "Look at what they've done! You can't trust them! They've done this thing or that thing. They're horrible!" And then somebody on the other side will come in and say, "Well, come on, what are you going to do about it? You can't change things -- they're all like that!"

Well, I'm here to say, "No, they're not all like that."

Not all Republicans are clean and dandy, and not all Democrats are scumbags. There are huge scumbags in Congress on both sides of the aisle, and there are good and decent people who really care about America who are Democrats and Republicans.

Partisan politics makes us cynical. It makes us buy into another Big Lie: that we can't change anything. The bad politicians need us to believe that. It empowers them.

How many of us would kill for a Lee Iacocca or a Jack Welch to be the president of the United States? Or for the president to approach Jack Welch and say, "Look, here's the six billion pages of the federal budget. Forget about political favors and cut this budget -- tell me only what we need and what we don't need. Don't talk politics -- just do the right thing for America."

I can guarantee you that we could cut it down. I can guarantee you that the right things would be done and we wouldn't be running a deficit.

I can guarantee you that James Carville wouldn't have a job.

But these things are never done (and James Carville still has a job), because there are so few politicians with enough courage to say what they mean and mean what they say.

The Real Americans yearn for somebody...anybody...to stand up and tell the country, "Damn the consequences from the special interest groups, we're moving forward." Scratch that. There are plenty of people who will say that....Real Americans yearn for someone who will actually do it. (And they yearn for James Carville not to have a job).

James Carville and Mary Matalin engaged in the most bizarre marriage in the history of humanity. James is the alien talking head of the Democratic party, while Mary spends more time in bed with the GOP then she does with Carville.

It would take a lot for a couple to take the title of "most bizarre relationship" away from these two, but here are a few contenders.


  • Woody Allen and Soon-Yi
  • Anna Nicole Smith and the Old Dead Guy (He's way too good for her -- even now.)
  • Camryn Manheim and a salad
  • Britney Spears and Glenn Beck
  • Celine Dion and her grandfather
  • Apples and oranges


Thomas Jefferson and John Adams were having a problem once, and they were arguing about something. I don't know what -- maybe Adams said, "Hey TJ, you're a big, fat, redheaded freak," and then Jefferson said, "Oh yeah, well your cousin Sam is a sloppy drunk. And his beer sucks." Anyway, they were arguing about something and they needed to be brought back together again. They needed to come together for the good of the nation.

So Washington came to them and said, "Guys, stop. Listen to yourselves. You're being ridiculous." Boy, would we kill for a Washington now to come to the Republicans and the Democrats and say, "Listen to yourselves!"

But that's what Washington did. He said, "Look, you guys have to come together and not think the worst of each other, because, really, you both agree on the essentials. You agree on the principles. You agree on life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. You agree on the presumption of innocence. You agree that our freedom comes from a divine creator. You just disagree on how much power there should be in the courts, how the Constitution should be interpreted and what the structure of the government should be. That's just politics. That's just policy. Unite on what brings us together -- principle."

I'm proud to say that I actually got to see hundreds of thousands of people do just that -- come together on principle at my Rallies for America. It was a grassroots effort to show support for our troops that attracted Real Americans in hometowns from coast to coast.

It started with a Dallas morning radio-show host, Darrell Ankarlo, whose son recently signed up for the marines. He asked his dad why there were only protests happening. In honor of his son, Darrell organized a rally to support the troops -- 3,500 people attended!

I told my callers who were upset that their views weren't being represented in the media about Darrell's rally. I told them to call their local radio station and ask them to organize an event to support the troops. I even promised to show up myself, if they could get it organized.

I wanted people to feel empowered to exercise their right of free speech, regardless of their views on the war itself. I wanted to bring as many people as possible together so our troops would truly know, without a doubt, that they have won the heart of America and that we are capable of setting politics aside and coming together on principle.

Why I Wave the Flag

People say that I am "jingoistic" -- which I actually had to look up. I'd like to thank The New York Times for calling me that, because The New York Times makes me smarter! They call me names I don't understand, and I have to look them up!

So now I've included "jingoistic" on my word calendar. It's my February word. My word calendar has only one word per month, because that's all I can handle. I'm not smart like The New York Times.

So when people say that I'm an ultranationalist or that I'm a flag waver, I say, "Yeah, I am." But not because I believe that America is the greatest thing that will ever be or that there is no greater nation on Earth. I just believe that there is no greater potential in a nation than there is in America. I believe that we are the greatest nation on Earth today -- warts, flaws and all. Name a country that doesn't have any warts.

But even that's not why I wave the flag. I wave the flag for the principles of our nation: that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with certain inalienable rights and that among those rights are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Our principles and our potential: That's why I wave the flag.

I wave the flag when I hear the stories of American GIs going into Germany after World War II. Our soldiers rolled into this devastated world with tanks, and they would reach in and hand kids a Hershey's chocolate bar. For these kids, those chocolate bars were their first taste of freedom.

I saw an interview with a woman who remembered that day, and when she spoke, she almost licked her lips, remembering that GI and the taste of chocolate. Now she associates the taste of chocolate with America and freedom.

We went into Japan and when we left, we didn't leave tanks and troops there -- we left a constitution. Not our Constitution, not our system of government -- something close to it, but not ours. And you know what? Coupled with the work ethic and the family values of the Japanese, the Japanese kicked our butts economically for a while! And I was one American who wasn't hacked off at the Japanese for doing it -- I was hacked off at us for not learning more from the Japanese!

When we take life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness and the idea that all men are created equal and give that to somebody else -- if that somebody else can take those things and create a better and more effective system of government and enable their citizens to be even more free...I vote for that. Show me a better system that enables people to reach more of their potential through liberty and I will show you a system I would vote for.

That's what America is. Not saying, "We are the best, so don't change anything." These concepts, these principles don't come from Americans, they come from God Himself. When you take those principles and build a better system, I'll wave the flag every time.

I remember standing in front of the statue of Abraham Lincoln years ago. Only later did I come to find out that it's not actual size. I looked at him sitting in his chair, and I cried. Now, what did I know of Lincoln? I knew that he freed the slaves, but I was an eighteen-year-old kid from Seattle who grew up disconnected from race riots or white-only water fountains. I didn't cry for Abraham Lincoln or the Civil War, or even the men who died fighting for either side.

I cried for what I can only describe as an unrequited love for an America that is always just out of our reach.

We know it's there. It's the passion for perfection, a perfection that we all keep striving for. Americans have never given up. Never. We have never said, "This America is good enough," and we never will.

That's the Real America. And I think you're reading this book because you believe that you can help bring it back.

And when I say "bring it back," I'm not sure it ever truly existed. But our reaching for it may have been more focused when we didn't have all the background noise we have now. Nowadays it's more difficult, but we can still reach it if we try.

The Real America is a physical presence that we'll actually achieve if we want it. The Real America is a place where if you're sick, I take care of you -- because I want to. In the Real America, I will work my brains out, because it's something I want to do. I will give freely, not because I'm forced to by the IRS, but I will give my money to others for the good of the whole and my soul.

When every, single member of the community, without exception, chooses for themselves, freely and totally, "that's how I want to live my life," things will dramatically change. That's what the Real America looked like on September 12, 2001: Everyone was looking around for "Who can I help?" "What can I do?" We were looking for ways to give away our money -- freely, not because we were forced to, but because we wanted to. I stood in line at a blood donation center with hundreds of people in St. Petersburg, Florida -- we all had been told there was no pressing need for blood, but we were looking for ways to help. And so we gave, freely. We needed the government to protect and defend us. We didn't need some bloated government program to help our neighbors.

That's the Real America. I'm not sure if we can get there tomorrow. But we Americans are extraordinarily powerful individuals. We can accomplish whatever we set our minds to. We can create massive and mighty miracles in our lifetimes. Everything comes from the power of the individual American: Liberty, justice, freedom -- our families come from that power; our communities do as well.

Someday we will truly understand that we are the Real Americans. And on that day, the whole world will change. And James Carville won't have a job but he'll still have a Republican for a wife.

Copyright © 2003 by Glenn Beck

From AudioFile
The title reflects talk show host Glenn Beck's identification with people in "the real America," rather than in Hollywood or Washington. He talks in the style of a morning radio disc jockey--which he once was--complete with impressions and vocal tricks. His conservative message of personal responsibility offers heartfelt commentary on his own life. In one memorable passage, he talks about warning his kids about drugs and alcohol from the viewpoint of a former user. Many of his bits mock liberal causes, including a few easy jabs at outspoken Hollywood liberals, such as Susan Sarandon, but he also takes shots at partisan politics in general. Conservatives will enjoy his entertaining audiobook, and even those who disagree with Beck may enjoy a few pieces. J.A.S. © AudioFile 2004, Portland, Maine-- Copyright © AudioFile, Portland, Maine

Most helpful customer reviews

124 of 151 people found the following review helpful.
Some People Don't Read...or Listen
By S. Glowacki
First off..the "dog killing" joke that aired on his show and web site - can you say analogy? It was meant as a piece of biting, brutal and angry satire - meant to emphasize the hypocrisy regarding the removal of Terry Schindler Schiavo's feeding tube -A Florida woman who has lived as an invalid since suffering massive brain damage several years ago (for more information on T.S. Schiavo see her family's website...or just open a newspaper). Second, get over yourselves, that are all offended about the joke - Yes, animial cruelty is despicable and should be condemned, but human life is no less precious...let's at least take the wax out of our ears and make an effort to be well informed.
Ok...now that I got that out of the way! I gave the book 4 out of 5 stars mostly because I really wanted to read more! I don't agree with Mr. Beck 100% on everything, but I do admit that he is well spoken, intelligent and well informed. Some people are under the mistaken impression that he is another right wing extremist - but I encourage you to read (and I mean READ) his book and listen to a few of his radio shows...you will see a man that struggles with many of the same questions we all do. I also admire his unabashed patriotism, the depth of his faith and his razor sharp humor. This worth the read, you won't agree with all of it - but after all, what good does it do anyone to only expose themselves to things they agree with?

41 of 50 people found the following review helpful.
THIS is how America *SHOULD* be...
By Curtis Godwin
My wife and I absolutely loved this book. It was funny, insightful, and thought provoking. I was amazed at the negative reviews - those people obviously did not read the book at all (or they didn't get past the table of contents).
Even if you don't agree with him, there is NOTHING in this book that is hateful (I believe someone commented that it bordered on racist...that must be the same type of person that believes any sort of honest disagreement with someone of color MUST be racist). Listen to the show, and there are many African-Americans that call in..and I have never heard one of them claim he was racist.
But I digress - both the book and the radio show are hilarious. I would not hesitate to recommend this book.

19 of 22 people found the following review helpful.
Funny And Truthful
By S. Peek
The Real America is much like Glenn Beck's radio show - humorous and full of common sense.

Judging by some of the reviews I glanced at on Amazon, it is clear that he drives the loony leftists nuts. There are numerous untrue allegations contained in some of one star reviews; it is clear that those 'reviewers' have not read this book. There is nothing racist about it.

Beck is certainly not some mindless conservative who is a blind follower of Pres. Bush. If anything, he has some libertarian tendencies that make him much more insightful than the typical talk show host or political writer.

One area that is little talked about that Beck addresses well is the subliminal nature of TV shows, etc. produced by the 'entertainment' industry. He discusses some of the prominent lies put forth by Hollyweird types such as Streisand and Sarandon. He makes the point that the outright lies that they spout are not all that destructive because real people don't relate to them. He contrasts that with the insidious nature of sitcoms, etc. that are aimed at those who are 'mentally half asleep' and the way that viewers begin to 'tolerate, accept, or embrace the moral values of the characters on the program.' It is a valid point and he cites some examples.

He also does some really funny, but insightful, stuff on lawsuit abuse and celebrities in general. Those sections are the most like Beck is on his radio show.

The author does a great section on socialism as practiced by the US government and the many flaws in that system. That section alone is well worth the price of the book.

All in all, this is a worthwhile read by a very funny, honest guy that will be appreciated by most readers.

See all 214 customer reviews...

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