FOGLIGHT: FIRST SALE

Our murder mystery business is officially alive. We made our first sale to someone living in Maryland. It’s weird to think that a group of people on the east coast will be pretending to kill someone because I put them up to it.

REAL PEOPLE UPDATE: "Signing Off"

This is a new play written by Dad and myself about the last episode of a live radio drama. It takes place in 1952 New York. It started out as a one-act, but grew into the equivalent of a full-length play.
It stars Jenn Anderson, Kenny Carter, Silas Fitzsimmons, Sara Hart, Butch Martin, Pam Weast, Denise Woodfin, Anna Marie Wilcox and myself. Anna is directing.
The performances are Dec 11th and 12th.

FOGLIGHT MURDER MYSTERIES

About four or five years ago, an old friend (Jim Foster) proposed an idea. When I was a youth director at Golden, I would write role-playing murder mysteries for the youth group and sometimes for other groups as well. Jim suggested that we go into business together. I would write the games and he would handle all the business aspects of the project.
The process has taken quite awhile. The games are not easy to put together. Each one includes twenty characters and has to strike a balance between too easy and too hard. In addition, we wanted to test them all before we began to market them. And there’s the business side of it all in which Jim has done some research about the competitors, had a contest among artists for a logo, and hired an artist to design and illustrate the website. All in all, there was a lot to do.
But it’s done.
Foglight Murder Mysteries is officially in business. Jim found out that these types of things are extremely popular in England and so we’ll be set up for business with that side of the world as well.
We have three games available right now. If things get rolling, I will be writing more to add to the list. After that? Who knows! It’s a mystery.
The website is foglightgames.com

REAL PEOPLE UPDATE: The Senior Play

The Hyland seniors are currently rehearsing a one-act called “Under the Weather.” Dad and I wrote this play specifically for these five students. Anna Wilcox is directing. Mark Phillips is once again providing cool sound effects.
The story deals with a variety of people hiding from a tornado in a bomb shelter. But their troubles are greater than they realize, because the real danger is not outside.
The one and only performance is Saturday, October 24, 2009 at Hyland Christian School.

Bret With One T and One Eye (Part II: Retina Redux)

About two weeks after my eye surgery, the bubble was gone. My vision still resembled something you would find in a fun-house, but it was making progress. (Peoples’ heads either looked like potatoes or squash). But I noticed a “shadow” in the lower left hand corner of the same eye—opposite of the previous “veil.” As is my custom, I ignored it for several days but then finally called the doctor about it.
I left a message with the receptionist. She called me back and said, “Dr. Joondeph said for you to come in.”
I hesitated. It was first period at Hyland on a Tuesday. “You mean like now? Should I set up an appointment?”
She was straight-to-the-point. “I told Dr. Joondeph what you said and he said to come in.”
“Now?”
“Now.”
I drove down and read for an hour in the waiting room—I suppose I was trying to cram as many words into my eyes before they put me on a book fast again.
Dr. Joondeph said, “Another part of your retina has detached.”
I kind of smiled to myself. “So we’re talking doing the same thing?”
“Yep.”
“With the same recovery technique, the bubble and everything?”
“Yep, but you won’t have to be face down all week. This is in another part of the eye so you can be upright and normal during the day, but you have to sleep on your right side at night.”
I have to admit two things: I was mainly relieved. Part of me was worried that he was just going to look at my eye and tell me the shadow was permanent and was the “loss of vision” he had promised me. The other thing I must confess is that I was somewhat looking forward to another short “vacation.”
Dad was having minor surgery the next day at the exact same time I was. Mom and Julie were with him. So Hans got the job of hauling me in early in the a.m. We left the house at 5:30. I wasn’t as nervous this time. After all, I knew what to expect. I was even curious about experiencing all the drugs involved again.
They switched me off, I woke up. I went home. Vini Vidi Vegetate.
I found out during the follow-up appointment on Thursday that Dr. Joondeph (wouldn’t that be a terrible name for an ear-doctor? “Sorry, you’ll be losing your hearing the first part of summer)—anyway, Dr. Joondeph said he had to close 12 holes this time (as opposed to the 2 the first time).
I also discovered once my patch was off that my eye didn’t like the procedure as much this time. I look like I crossed a bouncer. I look even worse this time.
But no worries. I can read all I want. I got my buddy Vicodin. I also have the family record for most surgeries in one month. And that’s saying something in my family.

HOW I SPENT MY SUMMER VACATION 2009

PUT IN A WOOD FLOOR
PLAYED SOME HALO
WROTE SOME SHORT STORIES
SUBMITTED A NOVEL IN PROGRESS
PERFORMED AT A COFFEE SHOP
GOT A NEW CAT NAMED SCOUT
MET MY UNCLE JACK IN SALINA
HID FROM A TORNADO
RODE THE LIGHTRAIL WITH DAD
TOOK PIANO LESSONS FROM MOM
PERFORMED IN A PIANO RECITAL
SAW YANNI WITH MOM
HELPED PAINT MY MOM AND DAD’S HOUSE
PERFORMED SOME SKITS AT A COMMUNITY EVENT
WENT TO MEESE WITH NIECE
DID TWO WEEKS OF KAMP KOINONIA
OFFICIATED THE WEDDING FOR SCOTT AND JENN
SAW THE STAGE VERSION OF TO KILL A MOCKINBIRD
RODE MY BIKE
SAW SOME MOVIES
WENT TO BIBLE CAMP IN MONTANA

Bret With One T and One Eye

On September 2nd, half-way through the school day, I noticed that my left eye wasn’t working very well. I closed my right eye and then the flaw was obvious. A veil seemed to be covering about 2/3 of my left eye, leaving the bottom left peripheral “corner” the only usable region. I lived in denial the rest of the day, but that night, I couldn’t help but notice that Frasier looked like an alien. I went to bed, hoping that a night of sleep would magically remove the problem. Alas, in the morning, there was no change. Feeling a little uneasy about it, I went to the optical department at Walmart and a very nice lady said, “You have a detached retina.” She was almost apologetic about it. I became even more uneasy when she was clearly urgent about setting up an appointment with a specialist. The earliest available was the following morning.
Now that I had a diagnosis, my imagination provided an image of me sitting calmly and painlessly in a comfy chair while the doctor zapped me with laser that I wouldn’t even feel— repairing me in a jiffy. Followed by possibly two days of recovery.
That evening, at the urging of my family—and the disturbing fact that the “veil” seemed to have taken over even more of my left eye, I went to the ER to make sure that it wasn’t a mistake to wait until tomorrow to see a specialist. The doctor at the ER took a look, verified the diagnosis and gave me further reassuring details. Still, at this point, it was assumed that it would all be a matter of me sitting calmly and painlessly in a comfy chair while the doctor zapped me with laser that I wouldn’t even feel— repairing me in a jiffy. Followed by two days of recovery.
Friday: Julie drove me way down to south Denver, where Dr. Specialist took a look and told me exactly what needed to happen. It included diagrams.
“What we’re going to do is take the fluid out of your eye (an illustration showed pointy instruments skewering a cross-sectioned eyeball). Then we’ll close two holes in your retina with lasers. The third thing we’ll do is put a bubble in your eye. You will then need to remain face-down for a week with basically no activity at all.”
I stared at him with my one good eye.
More than once, he assured me that I would not recover all of my vision—that there would definitely be some loss of sight. How much would depend on how well the procedure went.
He said I could be conscious for the surgery or unconscious. I chose the chicken’s way out and elected to be completely switched off. He assured me that most men choose that option, whereas most women choose to be “awake.” I figured it had to do with their pain tolerance for childbirth.
After that, it was off to the races—one event moved into another. Within a few hours, I was set up for surgery one floor down. By noon-fifteen I was riding Valium into the Great La-La. In forty-five minutes I was coming to.
For two and half days I was not allowed to read. That was the only “painful” part of the whole thing. I listened to some stories and radio dramas. I also watched a limited amount of movies. Surprisingly, the week went by pretty fast. As mandatory physical-ailment-vacations go, it was a nice one.
Early in the game, I tried to blindly jot down a journal on my computer, to keep a record. Here is a sample:
Bret took the chirkn choice and elected to be totatlyyl knocked out The doctor said most men choose option two Most of the womdn choose option one Bret assumed there must be aonc nocneetion with childbrityh
I discontinued that approach.
I drank with a straw, I got a sore neck, I had to sleep face-down, Vicodin tucked me in every night. All in all, it wasn’t so bad. Now, the bubble in my eye has almost dissipated and as far as I can tell, my vision might actually end up being better than before this all happened. Yet another obvious indication that my life is blessed.