For all you wonderful readers I am excited to announce that my play THE AFRICAN TRAGEDIAN has just been released for ebook purchase through Amazon, IPhone Epub Apple iPad/iBooks, Nook, Sony Reader, Kobo, and most e-reading apps including Stanza, Aldiko, Adobe Digital Editions.
But wait, there is more. I just can't blog about YOU buying my stuff right, that would be rude. Okay, so in the last twenty-four hours some wonderful opportunities have materialized. Moreover I am once again reminded that there are good people who extend themselves at a time when they don't even realize how momentous their words have landed upon the landscape of your heart, mind and soul. Here is one of two stories that just happened--the other I will tell later.
Last night I went to Jake's, in Falmouth, a home-town tavern/eatery with a million 60'' flat screens and a "goodly" collection on the tap. I was hankering for some french fries, which I have been avoiding recently (remember my BP? 178/86 ugh)--and pretty well I might add--so I thought I 'd treat myself. Oh, and a Guinness as a companion of course. I walked in scoping out a seat to settle in for the Bruin's game. I zeroed in on a spot in "left field" of the bar and wove my frame past small tables and speeding waitresses. When I heard "Mr. Peters!" --whoever it was behind me was sure in their voice it was me...and it was, so I turned. There sat Mr. "A" (I don't want to use his real name here). Mr. A is a very influential individual in the town. He is involved in the lumber trade and knows everyone involved in it--including me. He called me to the table, where he and five other very jovial people sat well filled on what was the remnants of great food and warm grog.
Mr. A said to me "I am so sorry to see your project end up the way it has. You have done such a nice job there. It's a shame the damn economy took a shitter on you." "No." I said, "It wasn't the economy. It was my bank. They got an FDIC Cease and Desist Order on them and that has been the real issue."
{But I am not telling this story to bitch at The Community Bank, of Brockton,...... I am telling this story because of the next paragraph.}
Mr. A began to tell the table of satisfied and jolly participants a story about my father. Talked about what a fine man my father was. How he was an upfront business man and did great work. He said my father would be proud of me knowing the effort I went through and the job that we did. Even though it didn't work out.
Mr. A shook my hand. He grasped it so firm. There was a great message in his grip, in his lingering as I pulled away yet he held on for just that one brief moment. All night long as I drank my beer and ate my fries (I added salt--couldn't help it) I contemplated what it was that kept me thinking about his handshake. This morning I realized--that's how honest business men use to do business. A direct look in your eye, a clear understanding, and a firm confident "my word is my bond" clasp of hands
As the Ides of March approach, The Community Bank of Brockton was my Brutus.
But as Mr. A reminded me: though I may have been slain and fallen, I am not a failure. I know this...but it is good to be reminded when you most need it...pennies from heaven.
Where's my piggy bank?
If you follow me on my blog or at my LinkedIn, my Blog or my YouTube account I will send you a 50% off" Ecoupon" to use at Smashwords.com to purchase this play or any of my other works available.
Please visit Smashwords.com and look for Dr. Robin Scott Peters Ebooks now available.
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