About Me

I feel the wanderlust and the call of the open highway. Which is good, because I drive cars for a living. But I'm a writer, and someday hope to once again make my living using my writing skills.

Friday, January 27, 2012


As I was driving a brand new SUV to Las Vegas, I wondered what had happened to Riff’s edict that I would only be doing the East Coast route, up and down I-95. Maybe it had to do with Andy’s health issues, or maybe it was just a matter of where I was needed most. I couldn’t complain though, for I preferred to see different locales and different vistas.

My cell phone rang, and I answered. “This is Bill.”

“Bill? Bill Thomas? Oh my goodness. This is Mrs. Sherman. What are you doing calling me today?”

“Well actually, you called me."

“No… no, I don’t think so.”

“I think you did, ma’am. But I’m always glad to hear from you.”

“Well I am glad to hear from you, too. It was so thoughtful of you to call me.” I heard a beep meaning I had another call. It showed me that Smokey was calling, but I could call him later. “So where are you now?”

“Passing through Oklahoma, on my way to Las Vegas.”

“Oh yes. Well if you’ll pardon me for saying so, Viva Las Vegas.”

“Yes indeed, Viva Las Vegas.”

“Yes indeed,” she said. “Bill, do you have plans for Valentine’s Day?”

“Not yet, but I’ll probably be driving somewhere.”

“I have just been asked by a lady friend to join her at a Valentine Ball. I can’t decide whether to go or not.”

My cell phone beeped again. It was Smokey, and he was determined to get through. I thought it might be really important. “Mrs. Sherman, I don’t meant to impolite, but I have another call I have to take.”

“I’m busy myself right now. It was so nice of you to call me, please call again soon.”

“I will.” I hung up and then clicked over onto the other line. “Smokey?”

“Spanky? Is this Billiam Thomas-san?”

“It is.”

“Are you drinking?”

“No, I’m driving.”

“Drinking and driving is dangerous, I advise against it.”

“Are you drinking?”

“Is grass green? I called to ask you a very important question, so quit spanking your monkey and zip up your pants.”

“OK, I’m ready for your question.”

“I know you’ve been writing about your adventures on the road. And I know that you want to turn it into a TV series. So what I have to ask you is The Fugitive Question.”

"The fugitive question?”

“You heard me.”

“I heard you, but I don’t understand you.”

“Well listen to me and respect me, and I will explain entirely. Remember the old TV show, THE FUGITIVE?”


“Not the movie with Harrison Ford, I mean the old series from the 60’s.”

“I know, with David Jansen as Dr. Richard Kimble, falsely accused on killing his wife. Each week he would go to a new town, meet new people, but always in relentless pursuit of the elusive one-armed man.”

“Here’s the thing: your show is about a guy who drivers all around America, every week going to a new town meeting new people. But here is the fugitive question: what is chasing him, or what is he chasing? In the case of THE FUGITIVE, Kimble was chasing the one-arm man for answers to who really killed his wife. But he was also been chased, doggedly pursued by Lt. Girard, who was so determination to catch Kimble that he ruined his freakin’ marriage and alienationated all his co-workers. That’s what you need.”

“Lt. Girard?”

“No, numb nuts. You need something chasing your character, or some bodies chasing him, or you, or it, or… you know what I mean. Ideally, you get both.”

“That’s actually a good thought."

“Don’t sound surprised, I am a creation artist. Creative artist, I mean. I’m a little wasted.”

“Good thoughts sometimes come from wasted minds.”


“In this case, you buddy.”

“Me what?” I could see that this conversation was running out of steam. But Smokey had put a very valid point on the table. And I will be focused on this until I can connect it into my own story and answer the fugitive question.

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