It must be television week here at MSW. At least so far. I don’t normally watch a lot of television, but since I am home playing nursemaid to Chatter Child, while she recovers from her knee surgery, I have found myself watching a bit more than normal. (Note to all: If you want to see the knee, you can check out my blog at http://www.nataliercollins.com/weblog. Right now, she looks like she is 1/4 Oompah Loompah.)

And the stress of her surgery, along with all the other stressors, has been keeping me up late. So, the other night, I was trying to wind down by watching a little late night television, and I happened to wander across the show, I Know My Kid’s a Star, hosted by Danny Bonaduce, TRAIN WRECK extraordinaire, who used to play smart-aleck Danny Partridge on The Partridge Family.

The concept is simple. Ten parents bring their respective ten children to Hollywood, because they are convinced their child is “A STAR.” And Danny Bonaduce, one of many poster boys for the dangers of youthful fame, is apparently going to set them straight. Now, I have not been able to look at Bonaduce without cringing for quite a few years, mostly because he is just sorta FREAKY looking these days. But there is still something amusingly voyeuristic about this concept. (In other words, dammit I know I shouldn’t be watching, but how do I turn away? Voila! Trainwreck concept illustrated.)

After watching the show for about ten minutes, I figured out that more than HALF of these kids have minute talent, if any talent at all. I mean, we all think our kids are the very best. But I have been involved in the dance world long enough to know that you have to be SOMEWHAT objective, and you have to be able to say, “Wow, that child really DID do better than mine.” And there are millions of parents who CANNOT be objective.

So of course, this show caught my eye, because I deal with pyscho dance moms all the time, and these parents are no different. They are just psycho stage moms (and one dad, although he got sent home on the show I watched).

There is a pushy stage mom (and former B-Movie actress) who goes into an audition with her daughter, and practically takes over. She is actually DOING the voices, and they can hear her on the tape! The kid flubs the audition, they ask the mom to leave, and then the kid does a decent job with the material. This mom reminded me of the psycho dance mom on our team–the one who knows all the moves to her daughter’s solo, and does it with her, complete with facials….

There is the mom who THINKS she is a good parent, spending time, patience and energy talking down her high-strung daughter, instead of helping her rehearse. And when she admits she has spent $35,000 in acting and voice lessons for her daughter, she is practically laughed out of the house. The child? She is just an average child. Does SHE really want this? Is this really HER dream?

Then there is the former beauty queen mom, whose daughter is TOO perky and sassy and Shirley Temple-ish for anyone’s liking, including mine. But when someone mentions it, you should SEE the sparks fly out of her mother’s eyes.

All in all, it was pretty funny, and a little sad, and there WILL be fireworks in the future, because the former B-movie actress who is the ULTIMATE STAGE MOM is good for it. You know she is.

Now the kids all seem fairly nice, and innocent, but you KNOW they are all train wrecks in the making. I think that is something Bonaduce is stressing, although it is slightly hypocritical of him to be issuing all these warnings, and then encouraging them to get their child out there at the same time. But we can’t blame him. He doesn’t have many brain cells left.

Lindsay Lohan, here we come…..

I’ve been sick (thanks honey!) and so I’ve been watching a lot of TV. One show is about The Curse of the Lottery Winners.

To my overheated brain this was fascinating.

Let’s recap: People who use drugs and can’t keep a job win the lottery but lose it all again in one way or another.

Surprise.

I do believe that a large sum of money trades your existing problems for a whole new set of problems, and many of winners don’t have the skill set to handle those problems. That can create tremendous and unexpected stress.

But you know what really irritates me? One of the women who won a lottery is now in prison for driving drunk and killing a friend, and her attorney had the NERVE to blame her sentence on being a power ball winner and…

Wait for it…

Illness. Yes she had drug addictions. She was ILL and while she’d been poor it had only been a small problem, but once she became a power ball winner, the ILLNESS became huge. It wasn’t her fault!

He whined that her seven year sentence for driving drunk and killing her friend was unfair. People were being mean to her because she was a power ball winner.

Yeah? It seems to me that this woman had more money and resources to get help that most people. But she didn’t get help and now her friend is dead. Forever. Seven years in prison seems fair to me.

On the other hand, I’m thinking there are many lotto winners who live fine, do great things for family, friends and strangers. But they don’t make the news.

I don’t believe the lottery is a curse, but I do think lottery winners have the means to destroy themselves quicker than if they had never won.

Ultimately, whether we are rich or poor, we all make choices. The curse is in the choices we make, not the money we win in a game a chance.

What do you all think?

Not about most things. Just some things. Okay, more things then I thought. Just when I thought I had it under control. Just when I was gliding along real nice with just one kid left at home. Bam! It hits me. I’m a worrier again. And while I know my older kids have their life ups and downs, the out of sight out of mind thing really applies. I mean, of course I worry, but not like I do when they lived at home. Now that daughter number two is back home with fiancé number one (and let’s hope he stays number one) I find myself watching the clock, tossing and turning at night knowing someone is still out, and hoping they are being responsible, and get home safe and sound. Last night my daughter was closing. Usually she’s home by 12:30. At 1:18 I’m biting nails off. I call, again, she answers this time.

“Where are you?”

“I’m just leaving Uno’s.”

“Common courtesy dictates a phone call, young lady. I’ve been worried.”

“Sorry, mom. I’ll be home in five.”

Grrr!

My future son-in-law is working on completing his BA, so he goes to night school. I find myself making sure he doesn’t forget to do his homework, that he eats before he goes to class, and asking what time he thinks he’ll be home. I let him know if he comes home from work for lunch, I’ll fix him something so he doesn’t have to spend his money (they are saving for a house, the less they spend, the more they save, the faster they go go go!).

I make sure my daughter’s cockatiel with an uber attitude, Tequila, has fresh food and water and that her dog, the PIA but lovable lug, and errant Rhodesian Ridgeback, Chopper, has chewies, is loved and is walked. Never mind he and hubby are going round and round because Chopper keeps digging up the side yard, the same side yard hubby has nurtured an apple tree for the last three years with the promise of fruit this year. Nope, it’s kind of hard to resist that loveable lug who digs up the dirt and tosses sod over his shoulder like he was digging for buried treasure. Especially when you scold him and he looks at your with mud on his nose and his wiggle worm of a body gyrates a mile a minute, and he can’t wait for you to tell him what a good puppy he is. I’ve watched hubby try to be stern. But Chopper is hard to resist.

Even Brit my nine-year old Rotty who has wanted nothing to do with the upstart can’t resist him. I swear he’s added three years to her life. She’s trimmed down and runs after him for the tennis ball. My girls, Coco and Zoe, have stopped their incessant barking at him when he’s in the house. They could really care less about him. They know they are Queen and Princess of the manor and he but a lowly clod. And Kitty? After his near death experience in Chopper’s jaws a couple of weeks ago, when he hears the jingle jangle of the mutt’s collar, he wisely retreats to my office and stays put until I call for him. So as I knew it would, life has settled in the Tabke household. All creatures manage quite nicely under the same roof.

In a lot of ways it feels like the kids and their critters have been here forever. According to hubby they may be here for forever. But I doubt that. I just know when the time comes for them to move into their own home, I’ll miss them terribly, visit them often, and take Chopper for an overnighter once in a while. And, I’ll still worry. I guess, I’m stuck with that. I don’t even want to think about how overprotective and neurotic I’ll be with a grandchild.

Now, worrying about a kid is one thing, but do you have weird things you fret about?

Last week I asked for help with a title for my FBI series. Yeah, I know, book titles alone are hard enough! But a series title? I’m cruel, what can I say?

As a reminder, the first book of the series is SUDDEN DEATH: “Burn the book” mercenary Jack Kincaid is forced to team with “by the book” FBI Agent Megan Elliott to stop a killer targeting soldiers with ties to Jack’s mysterious past.

I’m still looking, but here are some of the ideas that came out of that post . . . and some of my own brainstorming.

There were some I loved, like those that revolved around “alpha” and “omega” but those have been used many times, and I didn’t think they *quite* fit my vision of this elite FBI group. My group are the “best of the best”–modeled after the real-life Evidence Response Teams (ERT) run through the ERTU at Headquarters that are currently in all 56 regional FBI offices. They have special training and specialties. A team is generally comprised of eight members. I don’t know about mine yet . . . since SUDDEN DEATH is how they get together in the first place, and not all the team members may be in place. Meg is the field leader, and Rick Stockton (Olivia St. Martin’s boss from THE KILL) is the assistant director in charge of the unit. A little tidbit . . . it’ll be funded through a motion by Senator Jonathon Paxton, who you might remember as the father of Trask’s first victim, Monique, in FEAR NO EVIL.

Okay, here’s where I am:

HCU: High Crimes Unit

Priority Case Unit (PCU); Priority Case Team (PCT); Priority Case Squad (PCS)
I like these names, but it’s the acronyms that I’m not sure about . . . “Unit” works well because a lot of the FBI teams are called units, i.e. Behavioral Science Unit

Special Response Team (SRT)

Officer Friendly came up with two that I like:

F.I.S.T. – Federal Investigative Strike Team
R.A.I.D. – Rapid Advance Investigation Detail

My only problem is that FIST feels kind of negative to me, and RAID reminds me of Waco and other FBI disasters. Most of my FBI agents are going to be good guys.

I loved Natalie’s suggestion about Ares, but I don’t see the FBI using Greek gods for their acronym . . . though if I was writing a paranormal, I would seriously consider it! Or even a private investigative trilogy.

The problem, in my mind, with using FBI as an acronym is that this is what I’m calling the unnamed series now: the FBI Series. And they wouldn’t call themselves FBI if they were in a special unit. Might be a little weird ;0

I love FBI SWAT but they aren’t SWAT per se, though they will all have SWAT training. The problem is that everyone knows what “SWAT” means so it might disappoint readers. (I have a hostage book idea that I’m excited about . . . it’ll be book two or three of the series. SWAT will play a big role there!)

Some acronyms I’m playing around with but can’t come up with good meanings . . .

CORE
STAT

I can call the series something like “FBI STAT” or “FBI CORE” . . . if you check out Amazon, you’ll notice they have been labeling series. Roxanne St. Claire’s FIRST YOU RUN (out yesterday! Buy it!) is subtitled ( The Bullet Catchers Book 4). KILLING FEAR (Prison Break, Book 1). Catherine Coulter has “FBI Thriller” (which I would have loved to use!) JD Robb’s series is known simply as “In Death.” Cindy Gerard had “The Bodyguards” and now is launching “Black Ops”

Trilogies don’t need names, though I usually have a name for mine (#1: Predator; #2 No Evil; #3 Prison Break.) But that was more for my website and to keep them clear for me. But a series? If I had one protagonist in every book, that’s a no brainer (Bobbie Faye, Jack Reacher, Stephanie Plum, Molly Doyle, Elvis Cole.) But I don’t.

See my problem?

Okay, more ideas:

I can look at the origins of the FBI. Theodore Roosevelt was one of the key proponents of the original FBI (not called that) in 1908. (Wow, they’re at 100 years now!) FBI Riders? LOL. Sounds like they should be on horseback!

Maybe something simple like FBI Force.

I thought of National Criminal Unit: NCU, but it’s kind of . . . blah. Though I like the initials

I’m so desperate that I’m offering ANOTHER chance at an early copy of TEMPTING EVIL. ArkansasCyndi won the random drawing for the copy I gave away last week . . . so comment by next Thursday (even if it’s just “I hate all your ideas but I have nothing better”) for a chance to win. I need to get a list of possibles to my editor next week, so . . . put your thinking caps on!

It seems new owners took over an old insane asylum in West Virginia recently, and their business practices are causing quite the stir. Evidently the first huff of discontent came when they named it the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum, although that WAS in fact one of the names it previously held back in the 19th century.

According to reports, the hospital is a National Historic Landmark and one of the world’s largest hand-cut sandstone structures that once housed more than 2,000 patients. (I tried uploading a picture but the doggone thing wouldn’t upload!) It had been abandoned since 1994, then finally sold by the state in an auction last summer to an asbestos demolition contractor for $1.5 million.

In regards to the name, some mental health advocates claim the new owners of the old hospital have gone too far. That the name of they chose for the facility disparages the suffering of former patients. According to these advocates, words like ‘lunatic’ and ‘retarded’ have gone the way of ‘colored’ and ‘Negro’ and should never be used. The new owners claim that the hospital, including its name, is a vital part of history and that the past shouldn’t be buried simply because we don’t like it. To quote one of the owners, Rebecca Jordan, “Should we take down the Holocaust museum? Should we completely deny all that happened because it’s not favorable? Because it might hurt a few feelings?”

That said, the owners opened the facility to tours last week, charging $10 to $30, depending on the duration of the tour, all of which focus on issues like the evolution of mental health care, the Civil War, the Great Depression, and even architecture.

According to Jordan, “Not one person who has gone through this place and taken the tour has said that one thing was offensive. It’s not a freak show.”

In light of the above, I can understand where the woman’s coming from. Sometimes the past isn’t a pretty thing to review (names included), but, to me anyway, seeing something clearly for what it was in the past, just might keep us from making the same mistake in the future. Debatable issue certainly, with both sides having valid points, but I think the issue might have found a fair resolution had it remained only about the name. But it didn’t . . .

It seems the owners are planning events on the hospital grounds all year round. Events like mud bog races, where trucks try to speed through a pit without getting stuck; a reunion of former employees; Hospital of Horrors haunting tours in October; and a Nightmare Before Christmas tour in December.

Now what on earth do dirt bike races and haunted houses have to do with historical preservation? Not a doggone thing, in my opinion. Although I’m a firm believer in free-enterprise, there should be lines drawn somewhere, and this should certainly be one of those ‘somewhere’s. I mean really, who’re the REAL lunatics here? Geez, have a little respect, will ya?

What’s your take on the name and use of the place?