Johnny Oops

The White Buffalo Is Coming To Make Your dreams Come True

2012-05-31T06:23:00.000-07:00

For Immediate Release

The White Buffalo Is Coming To Make Your dreams Come True

New York, NY – Born out of the need for peace, North American Indian folk lore has a White Buffalo turning into a beautiful maiden to help bring peace to warring tribes. This is a central them in the paranormal romance, Sequin Boy and Cindy, where the White Buffalo helps the central character, Billy Wolk, find his Indian ancestors and shows his lost son the way home. Billy is half Native American Indian on his mother’s side and has been abused as a teenager by his stepfather.

Billy and Cindy are two lost souls who find each other on a train platform, fall in love and go on to build a family together as they overcome adversity and go on to help the community. Cindy has been abused as a teenager by her stepfather

Billy starts off with sequins on his face possibly to ward off evil spirits, but definitely to project the anti social side of his nature, which is hostile to a society that he feels has mistreated him – that all goes away with the love and attention that Cindy showers on him.

You’ll laugh and cry as life and the powers that be take Billy and Cindy on a roller coaster ride of highs and lows. Join them as they learn to love together, raise a family and experience the pure pleasure of giving back to the community. You’ll relate as their wild antics take on special meaning and offer a new dimension to the art of the possible in a love story for the ages.

Sequin Boy and Cindy is a paranormal romance novel available on Kindle. Don’t miss this heart-warming story. It can help make your dreams come true. It can help make you feel truly wonderful.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0085M3BZ6

Blown Up - Excerpt Sequin Boy and Cindy

2012-05-29T06:06:00.001-07:00

Blown Up - Excerpt Sequin Boy and Cindy

I still don’t remember everything, but I can piece together most of the tragic events that ensue according to Cindy’s fellow soldier who accompanied her on the fateful trip. One day near the holy city of Qom—the site of a nuclear bomb facility American bombs have destroyed—Cindy is driving her armored fighting vehicle (AFV) to the site of a place where her control has just radioed her that an IED has been diffused. She spots the yellow teepee with the sequins sitting on a little rise in the sand that I have left. She knows immediately upon seeing the sequins that this is from me. She jumps out of her AFV, grabs the canvas, and looks at the note from me. The note say, “I disarmed this at seventeen hundred hours and am heading west. I love you.” Cindy looks at her watch. It is only 1720 hours.

Cindy jumps back in her AFV and takes off at break neck speed, much to the surprise of the private with her who says, “ Slow down. You’ll kill us. What’s the rush?”

Cindy had just gotten a field promotion to corporal. She doesn’t bother to answer the private on the seat next to her. In the distance she sees another AFV stopped at the side of the road. Instinct tells her this is me. She races towards my AFV. As she approaches I look up and see her driving towards me with her head out the window of her AFV waving frantically. I start gesturing wildly with my hands and shouting at her to stop, but I guess in her excitement she doesn’t recognize I’m warning her to stop, to stay away from my location where I’m in the middle of diffusing an IED. I jump up and start running up the road towards her waving her off, shouting, “Stop, stop.” Just as we reach each other another IED buried at the side of the road goes off. I must’ve missed that one.

I’m thrown in the air. All I can feel is extreme pain shooting through my right leg. I have lost my leg up to the kneecap and blood squirts from ruptured veins and arteries all over the place. Cindy’s AFV is tossed in the air and crumples like an accordion. Somehow, bleeding profusely, I drag myself the few feet over to her vehicle and with all the strength I have left pull her vehicle door open and grab Cindy out of her AFV. She has lost her right hand up to the wrist. This is the hand I always hold.

“Don’t worry,” I cry as I tried to stop her bleeding. “They will be here soon. We will be all right. I love you.” Then I pass out from shock and loss of blood. The soldier with her later told me that Cindy sat there half on top of me shaking and screaming, and clenching her remaining hand over the stump of my shattered leg trying to stop the bleeding. The stink of burning motor oil and smoke is everywhere. She was shouting at him, “Get help, get help, he’s dying. I can’t stop the bleeding.” She disregards her own wound. She is so hysterical I don’t think she fully realized she’d lost her hand.

The private with her was miraculously unharmed. He called in our location and tried to tie off our gushing wounds. He says to headquarters, “Need help now. Two down both missing limbs. I can’t stop the bleeding. Need immediate Medivac. Our position is . . .
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0085M3BZ6

2012-05-27T06:07:00.000-07:00

On The Beach - Excerpt from Sequin Boy and Cindyhttp://www.amazon.com/dp/B0085M3BZ6.

I ask Cindy, “Can we come back next weekend?” I kept sifting the golden strands of sand through my fingers in disbelief at their sparkling fine-grained beauty. There is so much I know nothing about and so much I’ve missed. Where have I been all my life?

She kisses me gently on the cheek and says, “We can do anything you want, Lover Boy.” No one ever called me that before.

I say, “Guess what I want to do next, Cindy?”

Cindy giggles. “We can’t, Billy, people will see.”

I shake my head no. “We can do it under the blanket.”

“We’ll get full of sand, Billy.” I notice she is looking around for a private place.

“I don’t care, Cindy. I want to make love to you now. You said I could do anything I want.”

“Okay Billy, let’s go under the Boardwalk. You are getting me hot just thinking about making love. Tell me this will never change.”

“I promise, I promise. God you are so wonderful, Cindy. I’m so happy.” There’s a certain look that Cindy gets on her face when we are about to share the moment that I can’t describe. Ecstasy? I wish I was a painter.

We stay on the beach until the sun goes down. Then we stop for pizza at some stand on the boardwalk. The pizza is greasy, very cheesy and loaded with tomato sauce. We sprinkle the pizza with pepper flakes, garlic powder and oregano, making an aromatic treat that tastes great. We each have two slices, which we wash down with super sized cokes. Finally we take the Long Island Railroad home. I hold Cindy’s hand all the way. In spite of all the soda, my thirst for Cindy is insatiable. I can’t get enough of her.

Sequin Boy and Cindy

2012-05-24T14:55:00.001-07:00

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0085M3BZ6

I never thought anything good was going to happen to me and then I met this girl.

I saw her standing on the other side of the train platform at Jamaica Station, NY fidgeting with the torn buckle on her faded blue backpack, waiting for the 5:35 to take her out to what I later found out was a group home in Blissville, Long Island where she lived. She’s a pretty girl with blond pigtails, big blue eyes and a great smile. And yet I sense there is something sad or withdrawn about her. Guess that makes two of us.

I think she is staring back at me.

Cindy is eighteen and works in Jamaica as a dental assistant, a job I found out she detests because she’s bored. I guess she can’t help staring across the platform at a strange looking young man in a hooded sweatshirt who appears to have some kind of shiny colored disks on his face, which are half hidden by the hood of his sweatshirt—that’s me. My name is Billy Wolk. I’m half Native American Indian. I have spirit Ancestors.

She must be thinking, what are they, those ornaments on his face? I guess she’s wondering why this strange boy is staring at her. Probably thinks I look sad and alone. I am. I’m taken by the good looks of this thin girl who occasionally smiles at me. I think she is smiling at me. It’s hard to be sure from this distance. No one ever smiles at me. Sometimes they stare in disbelief. I almost never smile.

Cindy says to herself, “what’s with that kid staring at me? He has some weird shiny stuff hanging from his face. I’m a little scared.”

Touching Private Parts - Excerpt Johnny Oops

2012-05-23T11:47:00.000-07:00

Junior threw me off course when he interrupted my thinking. I was talking to him so I decided to take a break and show my work to Jody who said, “I can’t edit this. It’s off the wall. You’re on your own. If I were you I would give serious consideration to staying on the lecture circuit. You come off better when you can use your hands, and I don’t mean to write with.”

I wasn’t listening to Jody. I was too busy listening to the boy’s choir of greater San Diego perform the Hallelujah Chorus on the radio. I was using the music to put me in the mood to write something truly spiritual. As I got in the mood the title finally came to me. I call this article, “Reach Out and Touch Someone.”http://www.amazon.com/Johnny-Oops-ebook/dp/B0041KL52M/ref=pd_rhf_p_t_1

“ I had a dream I was walking in a garden and I came to a big hole in the ground that I couldn’t jump over. Then an angel came to me and said, “Touch my hand.” I did and she lifted me over the hole. I felt lifted up. I felt wonderful. If an angel can reach out and touch my soul, you can reach out and touch someone else in their private parts. It may make you both feel truly wonderful. It may give you the essential meaning of being.”

Excerpt From Johnny Oops - My Grandfather's Genes

2012-05-18T08:16:00.000-07:00

As I got out of the shower I heard a car screeching to a halt in the driveway and my father pounding up the stairs shouting, “Johnny, Johnny, are you alright? Let me look at you. A teacher at your school saw the whole thing he said you were magnificent. I’m so proud of you.”

Dad grabbed me and hugged me so hard I was embarrassed. Had to push him away. I was still soaking wet with nothing but a hastily grabbed towel around my waist “It was nothing. I don’t know where I got the courage to do what I did.”

Dad stared at me and said, “Tomorrow you are going to find out. We are going to visit your Grandfather in the Hospital.”

Suddenly the image of my grandfather, Elijah Wilbert, flashed into my mind. I hadn’t thought about him in a long time. He was dying, and my father was taking me to the hospital to see him for the last time. Elijah Wilbert was a well-known Presbyterian Minister in Maine. I remember him as being kind of stern and rarely smiling. I’m fourteen years old and frightened by the specter of death.

He struggled to pull himself up in his hospital bed when he saw me; his shoulder length hair was all white and wavy. The room smelled antiseptic. He grasped my shoulder with his gnarled arthritic right hand, scaring me half to death, drew me close to his mouth, and in a soft voice whispered, “Always remember, Johnny, you come from good stock.”

I didn’t know what he meant at first, but driving home with my Dad I found his words very comforting. I got this big grin on my face. I come from good stock. I come from my father and grandfather’s genes. Means a lot to me. Means I’ve got a history. I’ve got the genes to do something worthwhile. I can be strong like my grandfather and father. I can make a difference. Must be God’s Will. Now it’s my turn. I just wish I knew what I’m supposed to do. Why am I sweating?

An excerpt from my soon to be released novel Sequin Boy and Cindy.

2012-05-17T04:57:00.001-07:00

"What's the matter Cindy? Did I do something wrong? Is it the sequins?" Her face turns a ghostly white and she clenches her fingers as she looks away from me as if she's scared I wouldn't accept or understand what she is about to say to me.

She turns even paler, takes a deep breath and says, " It's not you. I don't know how to tell you this. I'm not even sure I should so soon. I don't want to ruin our relationship before it even gets started. It's not you. It's that bastard of a stepfather of mine. He sexually abused me from the time I was fourteen until I was sixteen and could leave and go to a group home. I'm so embarrassed. I know its not my fault, but I can't help feeling like I did something wrong. I feel guilty." Then the color starts to return to her face as if a giant weight has been lifted from her heart. Cindy has revealed her terrible secret.

I gently touch her hand and say, "You did nothing wrong. I don't know why adults feel it's okay to abuse us one way or another. We can take our time. We don't have to do anything until you're ready. As long as I can be with you and hold you. I can wait as long as you want." She sighs with relief.

Suddenly I feel myself turning red with rage at the thought of her bastard stepfather taking advantage of her. I ball my fists. Then I start to cry out of frustration because there is nothing I can do. We hold each other and cry together for the abuse we have both suffered, and for our lost innocence that has left us so inhibited we can't even enjoy doing what comes naturally. Eventually with the resiliency of youth we manage to comfort each other.

After a while I walk Cindy downstairs. I say, "Will you come back on Saturday?"

Cindy looks at me in surprise and flinches in my arms. "Don't you want to see me tomorrow?"

"I do, I do, but there is something important I have to take care of. Come back Saturday afternoon. I'm planning a surprise for you. I really care about you."

"Can't you tell me what the surprise is, Billy?"

"No I can't. Then it wouldn't be a surprise, but I think you'll be pleased. I'd do anything for you, Cindy."

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An  excerpt from my soon to be released novel Sequin Boy and Cindy.  "What's the matter Cindy? Did I do something wrong? Is it the sequins?"  Her face turns a ghostly white and she clenches her fingers as she looks  away from me as if she's scared I wouldn't accept or understand what  she is about to say to me.  She turns even paler, takes a deep breath and says, " It's not you. I  don't know how to tell you this. I'm not even sure I should so soon. I  don't want to ruin our relationship before it even gets started. It's  not you. It's that bastard of a stepfather of mine. He sexually abused  me from the time I was fourteen until I was sixteen and could leave and  go to a group home. I'm so embarrassed. I know its not my fault, but I  can't help feeling like I did something wrong. I feel guilty." Then the  color starts to return to her face as if a giant weight has been lifted  from her heart. Cindy has revealed her terrible secret.  I gently touch her hand and say, "You did nothing wrong. I don't know  why adults feel it's okay to abuse us one way or another. We can take  our time. We don't have to do anything until you're ready. As long as I  can be with you and hold you. I can wait as long as you want." She sighs  with relief.  Suddenly I feel myself turning red with rage at the thought of her  bastard stepfather taking advantage of her. I ball my fists. Then I  start to cry out of frustration because there is nothing I can do. We  hold each other and cry together for the abuse we have both suffered,  and for our lost innocence that has left us so inhibited we can't even  enjoy doing what comes naturally. Eventually with the resiliency of  youth we manage to comfort each other. After a while I walk Cindy downstairs. I say, "Will you come back on  Saturday?"  Cindy looks at me in surprise and flinches in my arms. "Don't you want  to see me tomorrow?"   "I do, I do, but there is something important I have to take care of.  Come back Saturday afternoon. I'm planning a surprise for you. I really  care about you."  "Can't you tell me what the surprise is, Billy?"  "No I can't. Then it wouldn't be a surprise, but I think you'll be  pleased. I'd do anything for you, Cindy."

Guidelines

5 star review of Johnny Oops 11 - Timeless by James A. Anderson.

2012-05-14T08:15:00.000-07:00

Five Star Review by James A. Anderson
4 of 4 people found the following review helpful
A Modern-era GULLIVER'S TRAVELS February 12, 2012
... By James A. Anderson
Format:Kindle Edition|Amazon Verified Purchase
Just finished Johnny Oops 11 - Timeless by the highly talented visionary Arthur J. Levine. This sequel to Johnny Oops does not disappoint. A far out, fun read to overcome the winter blues.

Johnny Oops 11 is a rocket scientist who flies a spaceship to a far away planet with his inner self, Outy, and marries a bald Blue lady by the name of Ala who never ceases asking Johnny funny questions. They have a son called Johnworld who is Magenta colored, has Yellow hair and perceives his mission in life to be to propagate different races. They spend most of their lives trying to ward off the prejudice and bigotry that follows people of color.

Discriminated against back on Earth, Johnny Oops 11 sets off once again in another spaceship together with millions of Indolts-Ala's people, and the Magentas of which Johnworld is the first. On their new home of Everworld they meet other races of various colors and stripes called the Fugats, the Juicers, and the Three Tribes.

Before long they form a Great Society, which is intent on not color-coding their emotions. After fighting off skeptical suicide bomber Mimon birds who don't believe they can succeed, they discover a new reality and enter the Paradise of their dreams.

This book is very funny satire (especially of Homeland Security and Congress) and a sort of modern-era GULLIVER'S TRAVELS. Levine's witty dialogue and outrageous plot are highly entertaining and thought provoking. There are some serious underlying philosophies offered here though.

If you want to read something decidedly different and unlike anything else on the book market, give both books a try. Highly original, thought provoking and entertaining stuff.
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005XP2GPO

Johnny Didn't Use Protection - Excerpt Johnny Oops 11 - Timeless

2012-05-11T06:33:00.000-07:00

An excerpt from Johnny Oops 11 - Timeless. Only 99 cents on Kindle.

“What’s that Ala? I should have taught him about using protection? I have a letter from the Dean at his school?”

I can’t believe this. The Dean at Johnworld’s school wrote to me explaining that my little boy had evidently impregnated a dozen college girls by some combination of mind meld and traditional sex. None of them were complaining, and all wanted to have their babies. The Dean wanted to know what type of financial support we planned to offer these young ladies and what other responsibilities of fatherhood my little Magenta sex maniac planned on making. He asked if I realized that my little Johnny was single handed producing a whole new race of people. He went on to inform me that although the relationships were very consensual he felt obligated to inform the Homeland Security people because this involved a whole new race of people and he didn’t know what else to do.

“Ala, help. What do I do now?”

Johnny Oops 11 - Discovers Thousands of Pounds of Diamonds

2012-05-06T11:33:00.000-07:00

Wouldn't you like to discover thousands of pounds of pure white diamonds growing like stalagmites in underground caves in a far away universe. That's what Johnny Oops 11 does in Johnny Oops 11 - Timeless. And he returns with them and a Blue lady named Ala who is his wife to earth to start a new race of Magenta colored people with Yellow hair to spread the wealth, take wing to new dreams, and create a common telepathic band of new wave thinking.

Regards,
Arthur

Excerpt from Johnny Oops 11 - Timeless

2012-05-03T09:16:00.000-07:00

Standing six feet three inches of rippling muscles tall I make a ridiculous figure cramped into the webbing of our silver pluton alloy framed sling shot vehicle with my long blond hair falling over my shoulders and tangling with the meshing. Outy takes up no room at all because he is only my inner self.

Both Outy and I have steely Blue eyes, which in my case are darting furiously around looking for a safe haven to land at.

If my father Johnny Oops Senior were here now he would appreciate what I’m doing. He always wanted to travel between worlds, but in his case all his efforts were virtual. Mine are real—the product of the scientific genius of my mind. I see Outy is crawling back inside my thoughts. This project is too much for him. Fine with me, I don’t need an inner self. I’m near perfection on my own.

How do I get myself into these messes? I’m always in such a hurry. Why can’t I slow down? What am I out to prove, that I’m the greatest rocket scientist in the world? That I can build a spaceship that can go faster than any other? Sounds about right.

Johnny Oops Says - Excerpt From Johnny Oops

2012-04-26T05:40:00.001-07:00

You can’t stop the future from happening. You can only alter your concept of reality. That’s where I come in. I’m a philosopher genius. I can effect change.

Regards,
Johnny Oops

He's A Messenger Of God - Johnny Oops

2012-04-19T06:06:00.000-07:00

Rebecca Forster, bestselling author of the Hostile Witness Series says about Johnny Oops,

“Hell bent to prove he’s a messenger of God, and not just a teenager overcome by raging hormones, Johnny Oops sets out on a Journey to find himself. Unable to decide if he is a charlatan, prophet or sex maniac, Johnny’s wild ride of self discovery and coming of age leads him down a tumultuous road of highs and heartbreak, beginnings and attempted endings to one, final life-changing epiphany. Electrified by the genes of a genius, counseled and conflicted by his inner self, Johnny finds that salvation and redemption can only be had by traveling the precarious vistas of a new reality of his own making.”

Regards,
Arthur

The Russians Are Coming - Excerpt Johnny Oops 11 - Timeless

2012-04-14T06:10:00.000-07:00

Now we’re in for it. Looks like the whole Russian army is out to greet up. They don’t look the least bit friendly.

“Johnny, what’s with all the tanks and people in military uniforms?”

“I warned you, this is Russia, Ilo. Don’t expect a warm welcome. They didn’t authorize you to land here.”

“Should we destroy some of their tanks to show them this is the wrong approach to take with us?”

“No, no, Ilo. Let’s try and reason with them first. You don’t want to start a war.”

“We are not the ones threatening our people with tanks, Johnny. I want to get out of this Siberia as soon as possible. Its too cold here.”

“Can you think to them in Russian, Ilo?”

“Of course, Johnny. You can too. Just use your imagination.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have the kind of imagination your people do, Ilo.”

“You do Johnny, you just don’t know how to use all your faculties.”

Voting Rights - Excerpt Johnny Oops 11 - Timeless

2012-04-10T05:41:00.000-07:00

I don’t know how I get myself into these situations. I just wanted to be a rocket scientist. Now I’m a representative to an alien race and the protector of a minority group of Magenta colored half Humans including my son.

Our dear Senator looks none too happy. “Senator Wills, I appreciate you seeing me on such short notice, but we are facing a crisis. The Indolts are really mad at Homeland Security’s treatment of my son, the first of the Magenta’s. He was born here in Florida and they want to deny him citizenship, which is against the laws of the US. There are other Magentas about to be or already born here. The Indolts are preparing to leave the US in a new spaceship and take the Magenta’s and their diamonds with them if they are treated like second-class citizens or resident aliens. They now account for more than twenty percent of GDP. You can’t let this happen. The Magentas will grow in number and age very rapidly and form a major voting base. I’m sure you want them on your side.”

Senator Wills turned red and asked, “How many potential voters are we talking about, Johnny.”

Easter, Pagans, and Passover

2012-04-05T15:54:00.000-07:00

There seems to be much scholarly discourse that links the Christian tradition of Easter to the Jewish tradition of Passover and to certain Pagan rituals and beliefs that came before them. There is even some dispute over the actual date of Christ’s death and resurrection, but the faith that each of us hold in our hearts cannot be in dispute. I believe we can all relate to that.

The name Easter may have first been associated with an ancient God, The Venerable Bede, (672-735). He was the father God of the Saxon people in Northern Europe who was known as Eastra.

Many Pagan religions in the Mediterranean area had a major seasonal day of religious celebration following the Spring Equinox. Cybele, the Phrygian fertility goddess had a fictional consort named Attis who was believed to have been born in a virgin birth and to have died and been resurrected during the March 22 to March 25^th period around 200 B.C. Wherever Christian worship of Jesus and Pagan worship of Attis were active in the same area at around the same time, Christians and Pagans used to quarrel about which of their gods was the true one.

My own opinion is that we shouldn’t worry too much about what the experts say. I think its what you feel in your heart and soul that counts at this holy time of year. I think it’s your family traditions, your personal beliefs, and the religious rituals you have grown up with that really matter.

Easter has Judeo-Christian origins. The life of Jesus Christ as recorded in the gospels includes the Christian version of this theme. Good Friday is observed in remembrance of Jesus’ execution by an occupying Roman army, and his burial in a cave. Easter Sunday is the date when a group of his female followers first noticed that the tomb was empty, and concluded that he had been resurrected.

The timing of the Christian celebration of Easter is linked to the Jewish celebration of Passover. The name Passover was derived from the angel of death passing over homes of Jews, which were marked with the blood of a lamb thus sparing the first born of such homes. Liberal Theologians link Passover to ancient pre-Israelite Pagan rituals practiced by wandering Semitic shepherds in celebration of an agricultural harvest using unleavened bread.

Passover was the most important feast of the Jewish calendar, celebrated around the 22^nd of March. The Synoptic gospels of Mark, Mathew, and Luke stated that Jesus’ last supper was a Seder or Passover celebration.

Most Christians believe that Jesus Christ was executed and buried just before the beginning of Passover on Friday evening. A minority believes that the execution occurred on a Wednesday or Thursday. Some liberal Christians have suggested that the early Christian Church arbitrarily selected Passover as the time thus allowing them to link the most important religious days in Judaism and Christianity.

Whatever your personal beliefs are, whatever the actual dates are, don’t let the skeptics amongst us deter you from celebrating your religious beliefs and traditions. Don’t let those of little faith keep you from believing.

Easter is a Christian Festival, which celebrates Christ’s Resurrection. Today eggs are decorated and exchanged with friends and family to commemorate the unification of all God’s children. In ancient times eggs were exchanged to symbolize the continuance of life after death. Eggs have also served as a symbol of fertility. Early Christianity is thought to have adopted the idea and incorporated it into their Easter celebration. Let the celebration continue.

Bullied

2012-03-27T11:57:00.001-07:00

Johnny Oops says,

As I got out of the shower I heard a car screeching to a halt in the driveway and my father pounding up the stairs shouting, “Johnny, Johnny, are you alright? Let me look at you. Are you all right? A teacher at your school saw the whole thing he said you were magnificent fighting off those bullies. I’m so proud of you.”

Dad grabbed me and hugged me so hard I was embarrassed. Had to push him away. I was still soaking wet with nothing but a hastily grabbed towel around my waist “It was nothing. I don’t know where I got the courage to do what I did.”

Dad stared at me and said, “Tomorrow you are going to find out. We are going to visit your Grandfather in the Hospital.”

Suddenly the image of my grandfather, Elijah Wilbert, flashed into my mind. I hadn’t thought about him in a long time. He was dying, and my father was taking me to the hospital to see him for the last time. Elijah Wilbert was a well-known Presbyterian Minister in Maine. I remember him as being kind of stern and rarely smiling. I’m fourteen years old and frightened by the specter of death.

He struggled to pull himself up in his hospital bed when he saw me; his shoulder length hair was all white and wavy. The room smelled antiseptic. He grasped my shoulder with his gnarled arthritic right hand, scaring me half to death, drew me close to his mouth, and in a soft voice whispered, “Always remember, Johnny, you come from good stock.”

I didn’t know what he meant at first, but driving home with my Dad I found his words very comforting. I got this big shit eating grin on my face. I come from good stock. I come from my father and grandfather’s genes. Means a lot to me. Means I’ve got a history. I’ve got the genes to do something worthwhile. I can be strong like my grandfather and father. I can make a difference. Must be God’s Will. Now it’s my turn. I just wish I knew what I’m supposed to do. Why am I sweating?

Regards,
Arthur

Racetrack Excerpt From Johnny Oops

2012-03-22T07:14:00.000-07:00

An excerpt from Johnny Oops.

Del Mar has various seating formations, and grandstand levels. The Clubhouse Restaurant, the finest of the restaurants, was on the second floor, but most people stay on the ground level near the track. This day the crowd was huge, must’ve been more than thirty thousand people milling around, shouting at each other, trying to be heard, jabbing their hands in the air, holding up fingers to denote what horse they thought would be a winner, drinking beer at the various grills and bars, and munching on peanuts. The crowd ranged from clean-cut looking people in shorts, to seedy old men in torn sports jackets, sporting panama hats with racing tickets stuck in the hatbands. The floor was littered with torn up racing forms, losing tickets, and broken dreams. I could smell the nearby ocean as a warm breeze blew up.

We squeezed into a small opening along the rail near the finish line. Before we could focus on our horse, the starter’s gun signaled the start of the third race of the day, a mile long jaunt on a fast track. We strained our necks to figure out where Suckers Delight—number five out of a field of nine was. Henry yanked at my sleeve and pointed him out. Our eyes widened in amazement, as coming from ninth place, our fabulous nag took off like a bolt of lightening when the jockey, Alan Holden, took him wide at the half-mile pole. I never saw a horse move that fast. Don’t know and don’t want to know what they juiced him up with if they did. Some horses just foam a lot at the mouth when they run.

We started screaming, “Go Sucker, go.” Suckers Delight turned all heads by making up an amazing eighteen lengths in the final seven sixteenths of a mile, as horse and jockey melded together to surge magnificently over the finish line, winning by a length and a half.

My heart racing, I was panting and gasping for breath as all my screaming took a toll. Henry pummeled my arm with his fists rapid fire, grabbed me around the neck in a choke hold that left me gasping for air again. My arm was throbbing from his jabs. Suckers Delight wasn’t the only one foaming at the mouth. I think Henry was more excited than me. Everyone around us was staring our way. I couldn’t believe what I just saw. Thanks Jack. You’re a true gentleman. You didn’t forget me.

The scoreboard flickered, went click, click, click and posted the results. Suckers Delight paid the unbelievable long shot price of $102.50. My buddy Henry punched me so hard in his excitement; he nearly dislocated my shoulder. I hugged Henry and kissed his head and then grabbed a total stranger and kissed him too. We did a celebratory dance, jumping up and down, and ran to the betting window to collect our winnings. I held my tickets so tightly between my thumb and forefinger that my hand was getting numb, and the pay clerk had to pry the tickets out of my hand. I won over $10,000. Eureka, I was rich for the first time in my life, or so I thought.

Regards,
Arthur

Johnny Oops Is Duped

2012-03-19T13:16:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone, an excerpt from Johnny Oops.

Jody tried to pull me away from Sonja so that she could talk some sense into me, but I cringed at her touch, pulled away from her, and held on to Sonja all the more tightly. That’s when Jody, realizing her attempt to deal with me was hopeless, turned her attention to this infidel Sonja who was about to ruin her darling Institute, and all her plans for the future; to say nothing of the horrible effect he was having on her husband.

When Jody finally managed to get me to come to my senses, She told me what happened. She observed Sonja critically from head to toe as he walked slowly around the garden of the mansion at Rancho Santa Fe with me. It was an otherwise beautiful sunny day and the beds of yellow and red roses that adorned the garden made it seem all the more spectacular, but she wasn’t here to see the beauty of the scene. Who was this tall well-built menace that threatened all her plans and had mesmerized her Johnny? What was the hold this character with the flowing black beard had over her Johnny? How had something like this happened? There was something so familiar about him. These were the questions running through her mind.

After observing his actions for a few minutes it suddenly struck her and she shrieked out in relief. “I know you imposter. You can’t fool me. What the hell do you think you are trying to do to our movement and my Johnny? You are the quack and the charlatan around here. It’s my fault that this is happening.”

Jody was barely able to contain her hysterical laughter. I’m afraid part of it was directed at me. In spite of the beard and the funny sounding name she now knew exactly who he was. Sonja was really her old lover Jason Friehling, with his last name spelled backwards, masquerading as a Russian mystic.

Johnny 11 Gets Married

2012-03-15T06:15:00.002-07:00

“Johnny, I can’t talk now. I’m on the phone with our local TV station. They are putting me on a conference call with their parent station in NYC. They love the idea of us getting married on TV. Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Ala wait. Don’t do anything, please. I’m flying home. Please wait.”

“Are you taking a plane? Oh I forgot. You can’t fly. I love you. We are going to be married on TV. Isn’t it exciting? This will certainly stop all that nonsense about emasculating Johnworld. No one could possibly want that after they see all my Magenta grandchildren on TV.”

“Oh boy, wish I could fly on my own. Operator, this is an emergency. Get me on the next plane from Washington to Florida. My wife is getting married. I mean to me. We have got to stop this. No I’m not smoking anything, she is. Help. Outy get out here. I need you. Stop hiding.”

“I’ll only come out if I can be on TV. Can I be your best man?"
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005XP2GPO

Chapter 1 and 2 of Johnny Oops

2012-03-09T07:13:00.000-08:00

CHAPTER 1

You can’t stop the future from happening. You can only alter your concept of reality. That’s where I come in. I’m a philosopher genius. I can effect change.

My name is Jonathan Wilbert, but my Mom and Dad, and all my friends, call me Johnny Oops because I’m a clumsy fourteen-year-old.

I may have the body of a 5 foot 2 inch tall, 95-pound awkward boy, but I have the mind of a true genius. My I. Q. is off the wall. I’m not one of those nerdy math wizards or a piano impresario. I’m a philosopher on the style of Nietzsche or perhaps Freud. He hated mothers too, didn’t he?

My father is a political science professor at Yale University. He holds some kind of Chair or something. I say why bother? I know who I am. I don’t need any furniture for proof.

My mother has a PHD from Radcliff College in Behavioral Science. She hates me because I interrupted her career, fat chance of that being true. She thinks I’m strange. I’m not strange, just different.

I try to act like a normal fourteen-year-old boy, but it isn’t working. I hate soccer. Playing the trumpet in the school band makes my lips swell, and the idea of watching cartoons with the other kids on the block really turns me off.

When I grow up, I’m going to be one of the leading intellects of my time. For now, I have more important things to do than watch Bugs Bunny say, “What’s Up, Doc?” What does that silly passé children’s colloquialism mean? That phrase will do nothing to change the chaotic state of the world in which I have to grow up. Don’t expect me to diddle away my precious time on such trivial pursuits like my friend Billy.

Speaking of diddling away my time, I just had my first experience with sex. Wow, was that great. The best part is I can do the deed alone. I don’t need any girl to help out. I certainly don’t want to make any girl a mother. I read how that works. What if the baby turned out like my mother. I don’t want that kind of guilt on my hands. That would be awful. One genius prophet in the family is enough I hope.

CHAPTER 2

It’s my own fault. I thought I had life by the cojones, and then fate grabbed hold and squeezed the complacency out of me. I sold my father such a bill of goods on what a genius I was that he decided to go all out to assure that I have a bright future. Who asked him?

Dad used his muscle at Yale to get me into an experimental twelve month a year high school for gifted children called Esperanza. Us students call it Mount Hopeless. Yale has some input into the school’s curriculum; too much, if you ask me.

The school is so progressive, the word liberal and avant-garde fail to adequately describe this experimental educational adventure formed by a convention of intellectual Ivy League misfits. Even the cantilevered stainless steel and milky glass brick walls of this newly constructed schoolhouse smack of modernism gone awry. The building stretches upward towards the heavens in a thin column that sways in the wind, creating a surreal cloud-topped environment populated by a bunch of would be geniuses. I’m surrounded by other brilliant self-starters with their heads in the clouds, or up their ass. This is ridiculous. I don’t need peers. I need a flock to appreciate my wisdom.

I decided to separate myself from the other kids by evidencing my obvious superiority even to this august group of wannabees. I invented a new religion called Dialectic Spiritualism. DS meets the needs of the time we live in. The short form definition is that people are allowed to practice a reasoned, logical belief in a universal entity that has overall control of our lives, a Supreme Being, the one God. May sound familiar, but my God is different. I swear.

Belonging to an organized religion is neither a requirement, nor a deterrent to the ‘practice’. All you really have to do is believe that there’s a reason for everything, even if you’re too stupid to understand what the reason is. That’s what I’m here for. I’m the interpreter. I’m the Messenger. The ‘practice’ involves an acceptance of the fact that we humans are weak, scared, insecure, and desperately in need of believing in a Supreme Being who will keep us safe and out of harm's way. Once you accept this doctrine, you’re automatically a member of the club. We don’t have actual churches in Dialectic Spiritualism. Our faith is based on need, want, and fear for our very lives. No symbols are required. To be a successful convert you simply have to believe. You have to have Faith.

Like most leaders of a new religious movement, I’m meeting some resistance from the uninformed who consider my views not secular enough for them. This Dialectic Spiritualism stuff is definitely not for the Atheists in the school. I’m not afraid of getting burned at the stake, this is the twenty-first century, but I’m being shunned. I don’t mind. I’m used to being alone. Even when I had Billy for a friend, I was alone. I notice I’m not the only kid here who is alone. Traveling through the halls in groups of one apparently is part of the school's dress code.

“If you’re uncertain about the future, if you’re unhappy, if you’re in need, come with me. All that is required is a reasoned faith in the Almighty.”

That’s what I tell my flock in my sermons in the hallowed halls of the Esperanza School. Somehow or other I’m starting to attract a crowd listening to my words of wisdom. I guess I have a pass from being shunned as long as I can offer these kids hope, or something to believe in. I can tell they are listening because they stop milling around, The nervous tapping of feet stops, crotch scratching ends, lipstick application ceases, and best of all, the various nervous ticks and twitches of these pseudo intellects come to rest. That’s the only recognition I get that they’re listening to the Messenger.

“Don’t be afraid," I tell them. “You’re the chosen ones. You’ve been selected in God's great wisdom to lead this country out of fear and complacency. Only you and I can make a difference. We are special. We have promise. It’s preordained.”

The third time I gave my sermon I observed no change in the reaction of my flock. The same ten kids were listening to me. I was beginning to get disillusioned. Then an event occurred that was to be a major epiphany in my life. A girl came over to me after my speech and introduced herself. She told me how much she enjoyed my sermon. I hadn’t noticed her before. Well, maybe I had.

Alice said, “You have given me faith. I now believe in the righteousness of Dialectic Spiritualism.”

For the first time in my life I was speechless. Alice was kind. She understood my shyness. She gave me time to compose myself. I was so grateful.

Alice has good words. In fact, everything about her is terrific. She has shiny brown hair, really deep dark sparkling brown eyes and the clearest skin I ever saw. I’m getting that teenage scourge called acne. She has the most beautiful sympathetic smile you could ever imagine. When she smiles at me, I melt inside. I feel all warm and prickly. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I think I’m in love. Can you believe that? Me, the philosopher genius, in love with a girl. This is happening so fast.

We spend all our time together in between classes hanging out in the hallway, or the library, or if the weather is nice, on the tree-lined lawn of the school. Alice tells me I’m really brilliant. She says one day the world will come to appreciate my theories and words of wisdom. I walk her home after school. We hold hands. I feel all sweaty in a good kind of way.

I almost forgot to mention that Alice has a great figure. She is two inches shorter than me and has the smallest waist. I can put my hands around it. She is starting to grow really nice breasts. They are small, upturned, and firm, and her nipples show through her sweater.

What is happening to me? I am starting to want her in a carnal way. Boy, have I changed. Is this what love is all about? How could I have been so dumb? I can’t believe what I’ve been missing. No wonder people get married. Wait till I tell Dad. He worries about me. Nah, he’ll want to teach me about that protection stuff.

Alice and I aren’t ready for that yet. We want to take things slow, at least I do. We haven’t even kissed yet. I should ask Alice what her timetable is on kissing. Her opinion is very important to me. I want to be sure I please her. I never cared about making someone else happy before. If this is what caring for someone feels like, I’m all for this scenario. Love and caring actually do make you feel better.

I know the good Lord is looking out for me because Alice is nothing like my mother. She never nags me and when she looks in my eyes, I think I see love in her heart. We share deep thoughts together, how truly wonderful. Life is wonderful. I can’t believe how happy I am. All I know is that when I’m near Alice I get this burning inside me. She makes me so hot. Sometimes I think I’m going to explode.

I have been looking in the mirror lately and don’t like what I see. First of all I have three damn pimples replete with whiteheads on my forehead and one big one right under my nose that looks like it’s ready to pop. It’s disgusting. Secondly, I’m starting to get this red stubble growing on my face and coming right through my freckles. I look ridiculous. My cloths are really grungy; black frayed tee shirts, worn out jeans, and a western cowboy belt. I look like a throwback to the TV puppet, Howdy Dowdy. The worst is my red hair, which seems to go in all directions at the same time. I don’t know how Alice puts up with me. She hasn’t said anything, but I know she cares. Now I really need a makeover.

I cornered my Mom in the kitchen before breakfast and asked, “Mom, can I talk to you? I think I need some new clothes. The other kids in my school don’t dress like this. I need some real pants, shirts with sleeves and buttons on them, a pair of loafers, and a new narrow, real leather belt. Can you take me shopping?”

I thought Mom would fall on the floor in shock. She said, “I am happy to take you shopping if you promise to throw those dungarees out. They have reached a point where I think they can stand up by themselves. We’ll go shopping after school today.”

I bet this is making her happy. She probably thinks the new school is having a positive effect on me. I’m not telling her anything about, Alice.

“One other thing, Mom. Do you think the drug store has something to help me get rid of these pimples? It’s embarrassing. And while we’re there, can we get some kind of gel that will keep my hair in place?”

Mom said, “I’m sure they do, Johnny, we’ll stop by and ask Mr. Katz at the drug store on the way to the Gap. I’m glad to see you’re growing up.” If she only knew.

“The Gap? I was thinking more in terms of Banana Republic, Mom.”

“That’s a little too old for you, Johnny. Let’s start with the Gap.”

“OK, but I want real pants—no more dungarees.” That’s good old Mom, always trying to keep me from growing up. Too bad, Mom, I’m going to any way.

I grabbed my father in the hallway leading to his den after breakfast, before he went to work and said, “Dad, can I talk to you?”

Dad looked at me fearfully and said, “What’s wrong, Johnny? Do you think we have to have that little talk about using protection now?”

“No, nothing like that, Dad. I just wanted your opinion on whether I have to start shaving yet, and if so, what do I do for a razor?”

“I hope you realize once you start, you’ll have to shave every day, Johnny.”

“What do you mean everyday? I was planning on once a week, Dad.”

“Doesn’t work like that. I’m afraid your beard will grow all the time, Johnny. You will need to shave every day to be clean shaven, otherwise you’re going to end up with a scruffy red beard.”

I said, “It doesn’t work like that? Are you sure, Dad? Oh, okay, can you get me a razor, blades and shaving cream?”

“I’ll stop at the drugstore today on my way home and fix you up, Johnny,”

“Thanks, Dad, this growing up thing is hell.”

I couldn’t wait to show Alice my transformation the next day. She was waiting for me under our favorite five star maple tree in the schoolyard. “So, Alice, what do you think of the new me?”

“I really like it, Johnny.” Alice said. “You look great. Your new clothes are cool. I love the blue shirt and khaki pants. What happened to your face?”

“I cut myself shaving. It’s no big deal. Listen, Alice, I wanted to ask your opinion on something. We have been going together for almost two weeks now, and I wondered when you think the appropriate time would be for us to kiss?”

Alice smiled and put her arms tenderly around my neck. She drew me to her and said, “Right now would be fine, Johnny.” I didn’t notice if any of the other kids were watching us. I don’t care.

We kissed and our tongues entered each other’s mouths, mixing juices and saliva, and only occasionally getting caught on invisible braces. I felt myself getting hard, and tried to pull away at first in embarrassment, but Alice held me close. She smells so good. We stood there, holding each other tight and kissing for a long time, my passion increasing with every passing moment. I didn’t know I could feel so deeply, so intensely. This must be as good as life gets. I’m in love.

The best part is I didn’t have to say oops once. I guess my clumsy stage is coming to an end, at least with my darling Alice. I’m fourteen, that’s not too young to be in love, is it? Watch out world, I’m growing up. There’s no stopping me now.

Book Review and Giveaway - Johnny Oops 11 - Timeless

2012-03-08T05:35:00.002-08:00

Hi everyone, please check out a review of Johnny Oops 11 - Timeless on the Soooz blog. Leave a comment and an e-mail address for a chance to win a free book and follow Soooz for a chance to win her two books at http://sooozsaysstuff.blogspot.com

Regards,
Arthur

Excerpt from Johnny Oops 11 - Timeless

2012-03-07T08:29:00.000-08:00

A snippet from Johnny Oops 11 - Timeless.

Two days later, Ala, Johnworld, Ilo, all the Magenta grandchildren, and their mothers as well as myself are arrested by agents of the FBI on suspicion of being homegrown terrorists. We are accused of plotting to take over the United States with a new alien race called the Magentas. The officers of the TV production company who sponsored our wedding are also arrested on charges of adding and abetting and the TV station, which is preparing to run our reality TV show, is threatened with the loss of their license to broadcast by the Federal Communications Commission.

Me a terrorist? Never happen. I need a lawyer. Senator Wills says he will have nothing else to do with us. The ACLU says they don’t defend Homegrown Terrorists unless and until they are brought to trial after being illegally incarcerated for at least two years. We need help. What do I do?

We are temporarily housed in the Park Avenue Armory on 68th street in NYC, which is the host to the antique show. I’m surprised we weren’t put on display as relics from another era or is that planet. Our treatment is pretty bad. We are questioned day and night, feed only sparingly, refused any needed medical treatment, and denied access to lawyers. Surprisingly we Humans were treated the worst. The FBI and Homeland Security were convinced we were part of some grand conspiracy to take over the United States. At the end of one sleep deprived three-hour interview with some thuggish CIA agent on loan to the FBI I was half convinced they were right. Nice to see all these agencies finally working together, but why did I and Ala and my son have to be the target of their new spirit of cooperation.

Did you ever have a dream that you were trapped in a small room, stripped naked, hanging by your arms from a ceiling beam and waiting to be tortured by a black hooded manic with a bullwhip slashing back and forth in his hand. That’s how I felt.

Thank God for the Indolts. They come to our rescue and threaten to take their diamonds and leave for another world if we weren’t treated properly. And so ensues a long negotiation over the Indolt status as resident aliens and the future of the Magentas.

Johnny Oops Is Hell Bent To Prove He's a Messenger of God

2012-03-04T07:21:00.001-08:00

Rebecca Forster, bestselling author of the Hostile Witness Series says about the novel Johnny Oops,

“ Hell bent to prove he’s a messenger of God, and not just a teenager overcome by raging hormones, Johnny Oops sets out on a Journey to find himself. Unable to decide if he is a charlatan, prophet or sex maniac, Johnny’s wild ride of self discovery and coming of age leads him down a tumultuous road of highs and heartbreak, beginnings and attempted endings to one, final life-changing epiphany. Electrified by the genes of a genius, counseled and conflicted by his inner self, Johnny finds that salvation and redemption can only be had by traveling the precarious vistas of a new reality of his own making.”

Twenty Something from Johnny Oops

2012-03-02T10:59:00.000-08:00

Doesn’t matter whether you’re in your twenties or just want to feel young again. Johnny Oops will put you in the mood with his wild antics as he goes tramping around the countryside expousing the words of a prophet, acting like a charlatan, and enjoying the passions of a sex maniac.