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The second printing of my book, "Trout Falls Chronicles" has finally arrived and I am offering it to all bomers and their friends at the discounted price of $10 and $2 shipping = $12 total.

You can order by messaging me here on boomer or at my web site (pay pal) gplankeasy@yahoo.com. At this site you can also read a sample story called "trout stream"

If you like my writing style you will love this book and remember that 10% of gross sales go to the Lymphoma and Leukemia foundation.

Due to the cost of printing it is a limited run again so don't wait too long.

Have a great day and I thank all boomers who have liked my blogs here on boomer and gave me the confidence to get this book out.

smiles, Gene

He came home from the war on the 4th of July and had a hard time getting into the sound of the fireworks outside the room that once was his. It seemed much smaller then when he had left four years before. Scratched into the headboard of his too small and way too comfortable bed were his initials along with his girlfriend Sue's who had left him while he had gone off fighting in Iraq. It didn't seem fair but he had found out that much wasn't fair anymore. No one said anything would ever be fair again. How could it be after what he had seen and done?
He thought of his best bud Timmy who had died when a mortar had torn up their Humvee while on patrol in Bagdad. He instintively rubbed his shoulder where the medic's had pulled out the scrapnel as he pulled out a peice of paper and his best pen and sat at the desk to try to write about war. It was his only release since he had come home a few days ago. He missed his friends, the smell of gunpowder, and the comraderie a Marine has for his fellow garheads. He sipped his 3rd beer and it was only noon and wondered why he was hiding them in the closet. What would his Mother say when he told her it was the only way he could forget the war? A cherry bomb went off outside the window and he almost dived to the floor but didn't but did write a few lines about what the sound felt like as he tried to understand what freedom meant to him and he wished he could be free again but he doubted that it would ever be possible again.
A homecoming party would be starting soon in the back yard and he didn't want any part in that but did it to appease his Mother who thought it would be a good idea. She had no idea really. He just wanted to forget the war and the 4th of July too. Parties were supposed to be good times but to him the good times were thousands of miles away. He laughed as he wrote that. How could the war be his good times?
He wrote, 'I feel like my war wasn't like the one our forefathers fought. No one had invaded our country. No one was trying to take my farm or my town. I went to war to stop a war. Fighting an enemy I can't see but they can see me. We will have to fight them in every country in the region and I can't figure out how it can ever be won. Landing on an aircraft carrier and stating 'mission accomplished' rings pretty shallow to me. So, why did so many cheer him like he was the hero? He wasn't and never will be. The hero's are the one's dead. Timmy. The Gunny and 'Lil bit' too. Who will speak for them?' The Marine vowed that he would speak for them even if it took years to put it on paper.
He stood up in a fit of anger and threw the pen against the wall and wadded up the paper and tossed it towards the trash can in the corner. It hit the rim and bounced to the floor as he heard a knock at the door. He hid the beer in a drawer and said, "come on in" and it was his Father who had a serios look on his face and a beer in his hand and handed it to his son as he asked how he was. F__d up he wanted to say but didn't and tried to smile to the man the young Marine wanted to be like. He knew his Father had had his war too. He found some consolation in that as he lit another smoke, took the beer and sat back down and started to cry. It was the last thing he wanted to do but could not stop. His Father put his hand on his shoulder and said it was allright and the Marine wished it was. He wished he could put those feelings on the paper but he was still too close to the war even though he was far from it now. He felt a guilt unmeasurable or unmentionable and jerked when a string of firecarackers went off again like the stacatto repition of an M-60 firing in the night sky.
He said, "The parties about to start. You going to come out?" while he handed him his hanky out of his back pocket and it had grease on it which everything did that his Father touched. He was a mechanic by trade and worked hard to give his Mother and the Marine all they needed but couldn't give the young man what he needed on this 4th of July but it didn't stop him from trying. He loved that about his Father. He hoped he was as proud of him as he was of his Father.
"Yaw, I'm ready". And he got up and gave his Dad a hard hug and didn't want to let go but did. He looked his Father in the eyes and saw they were glassy and the Marine wanted to write about a Fathers pride for the son who went off to war to fight a war similar to the one he had fought over 40 years ago. That was what he wanted to write about and made a mental note to do just that when the time was right. But, for now, it was time to celebrate the freedom they both enjoyed that had come with a heavy price to pay. Nothing comes easy he thought and put his arm around his Father's shoulder and said, "Let's go" and they did. It was a little secret they shared, one that others would never know about until he could find the words to tell it.

And that's just the way it is on the 4th of July when the soldier comes home.

Our time is winding down as the temp hits 90 at the Penthouse cabin this afternoon. In a bit I'll take Pippen down to the culvert and give him the bath of his lifetime. The water will spill through the lake into the Beaver Creek and to Pippen it will be like at the bottom of Niagara Falls. Honeymoon's over, Pip, and it's time to come clean. I'm leaving the life preserver home. In a closet. In the rusty green trailer. In one of
those huge Tupperware boxes......

We're planning our "Easymobile" trip to distribute the book the end of this week and we hope to hit 30 or so book stores and gift shops in three days. Then it will be out of our hands and it's the readers who I hope will buy my book and get a laugh and a smile. I feel good about the product and with Gracie's expertise it is honed to the best it can be. I'm hoping to get those checks once a month from books sold as the word gets out and it it is read. I am marketing myself and trying to get every advantage in meeting people and talking my book up. If I didn't believe in it, I would be a fool. I'm not worried about making a ton of money as as much as I am the acceptance of my craft. The money would be gravy and afford us to live a comfortable life and tithe to the Lord who makes our hopes and dreams come alive. I think we are up to the challenge. Pippen in his crate and Iri in his cage, we will sightsee our way across some of this wonderful Upper Michigan...

We saw a bobcat cross in front of us on the Fence River road and it was the first I'd ever seen in the woods. Gracie scraped a deer in our headlights on a dark, dark night when the headlights gleamed on sleeping pine trees and a black highway. She hit the brakes when the deer came out of the black night and she reacted like little Dale and pulled over to the side of the road. The deer was gone, no doubt limping, while Gracie was near tears over hurting that animal. I love that in her, I surely do. Earlier, we had a deer waltz into our yard when Annie was here and all we lacked was a movie camera running. I can't make this stuff up. The squirrels scatter when Pippen hits the bottom of the steps and the ones on the feeder pole fly 6 feet in the air and land with a thud. A cloud of dry dust rises up around them. Hummingbirds at their feeder swaying in the breeze catch a drink. The yellow finches are regulars and bringing friends as I sit here looking out the window into the front yard. A basket of wild flowers is across
the table reminding me to find some more fresh ones tonight......

Gracie is a hardened yooper now with Sisu to spare. Her face is browned with cheeks of sunburnt red and her smile fills up the room, all four of them in one. She baits a hook and cries for the dead fish and enjoys what I do. That is a key to a successful relationship. She has fit right in and I give her credit. The Penthouse Cabin now has a women's touch and some integrity. With her, now I can safely say, this house is now a home...

Smiles and prayers and have a good week....Easy

Before I went into surgery for a brain infection I wrote my son Kris a short note telling him that after I got home we would go fishing in the little
Michigan again. Twenty-two years later I went back there to trout fish again. I'm sorry Kris wasn't there to enjoy it. I'm telling you about this as much for him as it is for you. He emailed me on Father's day to wish me a good one and I look at it as a good step forward. I'm hoping for the best...

Gracie dropped me off at the wooden bridge that is barely wide enough for our car and I had 4 hours to fish my favorite trout stream again. The water level is high and running at a brisk pace. This surprises me and it will be harder to fish with some stepping stone rocks underwater. Above were clear skies but to the north a thunderstorm was brewing and I knew I was going to get wet. Nothing was going to stop me on my appointed rounds.....

I walked up the road and around a bend where I once cut into the woods for a 100 yard walk to catch up with the brook upstream. It was hard going through the densely populated brush and fallen trees and the path we once took was now long gone. It wore me down quickly and after a bit I could hear the sound of running water and my pulse rate went sky high with anticipation. I stepped over moss-covered rock as slippery as a
banana peel on a step. I set my gear down by the bank and panicked at the speed of the water and fewer rocks to get to my special hole. A hardy task indeed but I had come too far to turn back and I baited my line and underhanded a toss into a spiraling-down under the current. I felt a tap tap on the line and just like that I caught my first brookie about the same time the rain started to come down in buckets. Good thing I had brought an umbrella. Bad thing for leaving it on the bank and not on the rock where I got wet quickly and thoroughly.....

I would usually go first and Kris would follow and at 12 he had the eagerness and savvy of the art of catching Michigan's finest game fish. It curls up in a skillet with butter and some lemon juice and garlic. It falls off the bone and is a true delicacy in the north country. I remember when Kris yelled from behind and I leaped from rock to rock to help. He grinned when I saw him and he told me he had stepped on a huge snapping turtle
thinking it was a rock. We sat on huge boulders and laughed and shared lunch like father and son do.....

I found a hole I had remembered as a good one and cozied up to a larger rock to do some lazy fishing and get organized. I had already lost 3 hooks and sinkers too but in a few minutes I caught two more with one of them being about 9 inches long and fat. I set them on the rock and took a pic with my throw away camera. Janet thought it best I not take her camera because it would have some underwater shots for sure. It was a good thing I took those pictures......

I think back to a hospital room again when cancer was winning and I thought I might never get back to this fishing hole. I figured Kris would go back there when I was gone and have the same memories that I did today, hoping that he would take his son here to enjoy this slice of heaven away from the noise of the city or the commotion in a home. To be back again was emotional as I sat on the rock pondering a million things from life itself to the schedule for next week. Black and purple
butterflies danced from one wild marigold flower to another, All is good with the world after all this time. My blessings were many as I cast out
again into the little Michigan....

One thunderstorm later, 4 more hooks, 3 more brookies in the creel (ok,plastic bag), losing three when they fell out of said creel, I gathered up my stuff and headed back to the wooden bridge where Gracie would be waiting. The four hours had flown by too fast as I try to take it all in before we head back to Chicago. I will miss these streams, the people and our summer home. I won't regret the short time we have left because that would be wrong. I firmly believe in enjoying the time we have and not the time we wish we would have more of.....

Four trout in the freezer, 4 on film to be developed so all will believe I caught the fish before I lost them. I guess I spilled them out of the plastic creel. Janet was on time and waiting and what a pleasant sight she was. We have a special peace and a special love. It's not often we get a second chance. We headed home blowing dust behind us on the winding dirt road with me telling her everything I did and thanking her for being a part of it. I hope and pray for many years to come......

Have a peaceful Thursday and make those weekend plans. Our Canadian friend and fellow boomer Annie('s Angels) will be visiting for a few days.

Prayers to you and you're always on my mind with good thoughts and a smile....Easy

I hope you enjoy this short story that came to me while sitting in the woods this evening, listening to a cardinal sing...

Flip Cardinal was still young but discouraged because he was a little different then most cardinals in the tree. Flip's red color was just not as vibrant red as other birds and he was treated a bit different. He would hang on the same branch with his bud birds but they wouldn't talk to him much. They would regale their favorite baseball team stats as they rooted for the St. Louis Cardinals. The World Series Champion Cardinals. They sure had a lot to chirp about and did so.....

When it came to looking for a mate he didn't have much luck either. He had even nestled up under an apple tree with none other than Tess Cardinal who made him do back flap flips in his mind which had earned him his wings and his nickname. Flip was flipping for Tess but when he had inched over to her next to a ruby red apple hanging from its stem, she had flittered off into the evening sky and so did his chances of finding love under the apple tree. With everyone but me oh my....

Flip would perch in his favorite tree and sing his song hoping to find his love. He would add a bit of his own song so she would know it was him. If only she would listen to the sounds. It would be dark before he would give up. But he would every night and his throat was sore and his mind weary. Flip was not happy. He was so young and all of life was out there for him. He was just having a difficult time learning to "fly"...

One day Flip met up with a much younger cardinal he called Chippy Cardinal because he did a lot of talking for so young a bird. Chippy would rant on about how he could fly faster then any cardinal alive and Flip would roll over and under the limb hanging on for dear life. It was a sight to see. The annual 'Cardinal Fast Flying' contest would take place in the Apple Orchard on the 4th of July. In case you are wondering, birds celebrate the holiday too. After all, they were around then. Flip told the youngster that the chirping was done and he should enter the contest and Chippy took about a deep in the forest minute to say yes....

It was a beautiful morning without a cloud in the sky and a hot white sun beat down upon the crowd gathered in the apple trees. The beak gossip had gotten out that a bird half the size of the others was entering the contest and they fell out of the trees laughing. That's LMAO..trees. At the starting branch Flip was giving Chippy a last minute bird to bird chat about how important it is to fly as well and as fast as you can and you will know that you tried as best you could. And, if someone beats you, shake his hand because he is the faster flyer. Chippy thought he understood but he did want to win real bad. He nuzzled his feathers up next to Flip as if to say thank you and it was a poignant moment in cardinal friendship......

Chippy took off to a quick lead on his sopwith rivals and the bysitters said he would burn out and fade away. Flip wasn't so sure. The young bird led around the third corner tree, he was far ahead and Flip looked up to the sky and saw an eagle hovering and coasting in the wind. Chippy glided his way to victory and far ahead of the older birds. A bunch of crows were gawking over in another tree and obviously had been betting on the outcome. The chickadees were flighting like confetti and were solid behind the underdog cardinal. It was like a ticker tape parade.......

Everything happened so fast Flip didn't see Tess sitting by his side with a cute little smile on her beak. She had even fluffed up her wings. Like a female, she asked him to meet her over at the cherry tree in the meadow and Flip was flippen' friggen' busting inside. Chippy came flying by and stopped on a dime with an aircraft carrier landing. Flip put his long feather on the young ones small wing. He noticed that the color almost matched and he realized he was no different then any other cardinal. I guess it comes out at different times for different birds. He looked down to Chippy and told him this......

"I'm very proud of you, Chippy. You flew your best and you beat the rest." Flip chuckled to himself and Chippy grinned. "Now that you have realized a dream, what will you reach out for next? Continue to be kind. Be proud but not boastful. Treat others like you would want them to treat you. Now fly out of here, I have to see a lady in a cherry tree."

A steamy Monday morning with afternoon showers and we prepare to head to Republic or 'go bumming' as the Finns used to say in the old days. I think of my Aunt Elvie who loved to go bumming and she did it five days a week. She passed away a few years ago now when she was found in the front seat of her car with keys in her hand. There is a special symmetry in that and I smile thinking of her....

We have 2 different camp owners trapping the beaver at the culvert now. I must admit the beavers have been working harder then me and that is like saying I can write like Hemingway. 8 camps were full this weekend and it was a beehive of activity unlike the quiet times here off season. One is building a new two story camp and the pounding of nails echoed through the pines. A posse of small kids were over at Mark and Aunt Bree's which led to shouting, squealing, and lots of glee. My new neighbors to my right were out in the canoe catching Northern Pike and said he caught 4 in front of the docked Leaky Teaky 2. I like it when the fish come to me....

My Father was feeling a little better last night as I wished him a happy Fathers Day. Thanks for your prayers. In God we trust. Church was nice yesterday and the guest speaker was a missionary from Taiwan. I have much respect for these men and women who spread the Word in other countries and to me that would be a great adventure. Gracie sang with an impromptu chorus and I have to tell you, she has a splendid voice. I don't and that's why I lip sync......

Anyone who wishes to order "Trout Falls Chronicles" can do so by going to my website, www.gplankeasy.yahoo.com and use Paypal, or by emailing me at easy6747@yahoo.com. The next printing will be out in a couple weeks and boomer price is $12 ($10 for the book and $2 for shipping). I guarantee you will laugh and it will make this Finn humbly happy....

Buen Dia!!!!! Enjoy your Monday.....

Smiles....Easy

Life is so good I got a bad haircut and didn't care. I only got bit 17 times today and it's getting better like the way the administration says the war is getting better. A solitary bird sings his night song like a conductor leads a symphony. The sunlight hits the top of the trees and everything underneath is a shade of green shadows. The proud white birch trees reach up thin and the bark chips away like schroll paper the Romans once used. Yes, I love being back in the woods, one with nature and two with a partner as sweet as my Gracie....

The same lady who has smucked me three out of four in Scrabble and it appears she has learned from me and passed by me by like a Corvette passes a Yugo. I am not the best loser and am more determined to get the upper hand word score soon....

One of my grade school friends came over and he went into his stupid red neck routine which made both of us uncomfortable. Like I told Gracie, "I can't control what he says but can control how often we see him". Some people just can't get it right to wear a smile, be kind to others and treat all of us like we are the same. Which we are...

I've only told 6 guys in town that they are 'Pete' in my book. I just hope they don't all meet in one place. I wanted Easy to be the hero in my book and I gave it to Pete instead. Pete is the reckless person I'm not and Easy does everything right which I don't....

A bee will travel a long way to find his honey...

At 58, I finally have the character I thought about having when I was 18. Life got in the way. Now, I've found it again....

Great to be back riding blue my trusted ATV. It's 8 years old now and as dependable as a mans dog. I'll turn 5,000 miles on it this month and who would have thought a half blind guy could be accident free. Ok. I did flip it one time but rolled off and was sore for a week. On Blue, I can drive again with the wind in my face and be like every other man in the woods. It feels good....

I find I don't embellish as much when there is an eye witness....

A deer came out of the swamp and stood 20 feet away and we were both startled. She was a first year doe and didn't move an iota trying to figure out what the heck I was doing on the edge of her swamp. I reached for the camera and she bolted when the zoom lens popped out. As quick as she was here, she was gone. It wouldn't have mattered because the camera said memory card full but I always will have that memory in my mind to enjoy when I have a bad day.....

Pippen is laying in the yard with a small squirrel 10 feet away and I think they have an unwritten rule to leave each other alone and go about their business. Pippen does this by not doing anything which he does better then me. Have a blessed Sunday, a day the Lord has given us and Fathers day too. To all the fathers, I tip my brown Chicago cap.....

Smiles.....Easy

My father, George, is back in the hospital with complications and will be there tomorrow for Fathers day. How sad is that? My mom, Doris, is missing him terrible and deservedly so. It is important they control his infection and so far they haven't been able to. Please keep my dad and all the family in your prayers and be sure to call your father tomorrow. Thanks...

Last evening Gracie,Pippen and I went to a neighbor's dock for a swim and to cool off from the hot day. Lake Iri was left back in his cage because he has no water wings. Gracie stopped in a sporting good store not long ago and bought Pippen a life preserver. Yes, you read that right and I claim to have no knowledge of this unsightly act. Gracie seems to miss the dog paddle concept. So, I put Pippen in the water holding the nifty little handle and when he hit the water he started groaning. And he groaned and he groaned. I lifted him out of the water and he gave me one of those looks, "What was that all about?" On the dock he slipped out of the life vest and took off for the steps up to solid ground. LMAO. Pics to follow (see Gracie's blog)....

I'm sorry I have not commented more on Boomer. I'm finally getting my writing form back and working on second book and I have a few blogs in my mind. It seems like a full time job keeping the mosquitos at bay. Plus, we are out sight seeing and gone quite a bit. Having only her computer going doesn't help either. I give her more time then I take. After all, I am a gentleman...

Enjoy your weekend and be safe and have fun.

Smiles, Easy

I took Pippen on our morning walk which was short because of the mosquitoes

and after putting him inside I sat on the picnic table looking at the sun rise on

Island Lake. There is not a cloud in the sky but a soft white shape is above the

tallest pine trees. The surface of the water is calm as calm can be and diamonds

sparkle on the surface as bugs make ripples in the water. A mist hovers above

the water to my left where the sun hasn't burned it off yet. The sun radiates a heat

I can feel on my face and it is cleansing to the soul to jump start me off on

another day in paradise....



I can hear the chickadees, the angry crows and I think those are turkeys calling

from their roosts not far away. I've never followed the habits of these

Thanksgiving treats since they are new to the area and I am still learning their

ways. I believe we traded a bunch of wolverines to Wisconsin for a bunch of their

turkeys and I'm surprised we didn't get some Green Bay Packers and a tree to

be named later. I digress, All is all good and it will be a perfect Yooper day with a high in the mid-80's and cloudless to boot...I brought Gracie some more flowers and I think they are yellow butter cups and I told her I am going to bring her every wild flower in the meadow before we head back home to Chicago.....





Today's garbage and laundry day. I bunch them together only to not say 'day' too

too (there goes the train) many times. No, we won't be beating our wet clothes on

the rocks at the culvert but I have done that in the past. They used to stand up on

there own because I could never get the soap out. We'll do it in the conventional

way at the laundromat where they don't do any martenizing anymore. We need a

new stove, screen for front window and a host of other things no one has at

camp. Those things are at home in the city. When I hit the NY Times paperback

best sellers list we will have just as much stuff at camp as we do at home. It is a

sure sign of a successful writer......



Well, I have all my ducks lined up in a row this beautiful morning and I wish you all

a great day. Get the tough stuff done today and we can slide through the week

and take some time to do something we love or just lie in the hammock wasting

away in DoNothingVille......



Smiles, Easy

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