Recently I was in Houston, where among other things I visited a couple of bookstores. The first was in The Woodlands, a used bookstore in a converted house. This store is called Good Books in the Woods, https://www.goodbooksinthewoods.com – it appears to have been converted from an old residence into a bookstore with walls and walls of books. The SF section is small. Prices appeared to have no rhyme or reason; some paperbacks were cheap, others expensive. Some hardcovers were close to $100, others under $20.
Although I already had a couple of editions of Jack Vance’s The Eyes of the Overworld, I found a nice paperback edition that I didn’t have. The $8 cost made me hesitate, but these days finding any Vance book in decent shape is next to impossible.
As far as books that I didn’t already have, I came across a 1975 collection of short stories by William Hope Hodgson, Out of the Storm, published by Donald M. Grant. Grant would later publish three more Hodgson collections: The Dream of X, which I don’t have, plus The Haunted Pampero (1991) and Terrors of the Sea (1996) which I already owned.
Out of the Storm contains seven short stories, as well as quite a long biographical introduction from Sam Moskowitz, and is illustrated by Stephen Fabian. The price when published in 1975 was $10. I paid $25. I think was I surprised to see that book there, and not in the glass-enclosed “rare book” section, where books apparently cost $100 and more. Still, I was happy to find the book, as I like Hodgson’s sea stories.
Grant is perhaps better known as a publisher of Robert E. Howard and Stephen King’s Dark Tower series. They seem to have tapered off recently in the number of books published, so likely will become a defunct publisher at some point, if that hasn’t already happened.
It’s unusual to see a hardcover edition limited to just 200 copies. However, that seems to be normal for PS Publishing out of the UK; they even publish books limited to just 26 copies at times.
In October 2022, they published Pennies From Heaven, a new novel from James P. Blaylock. Since I’m not tuned into all small press releases, I almost missed this book. The moment I saw it mentioned somewhere, I quickly placed an order via the PS Publishing web site. I expected it to be sold out, but a few weeks later received my signed and numbered (#13) copy of the book. There’s also a trade paperback edition, but I went for the hardcover.
Sadly, Blaylock now seems to have a niche audience. I thought mainstream publishers, or even Subterranean Press might be the place to find Blaylock books. Subterranean Press has published quite a few Blaylock books over the years, mostly in the Langdon St. Ives series. Sometimes these are signed, limited editions, sometimes a mix of signed and trade editions.
I’m not sure why this happens, but sometimes Subterranean Press seems to drop authors who they’ve carried for many years. Maybe someone more attuned to the small press market knows more about this. It’s not the first time I’ve seen an author having multiple Subterranean Press books and then suddenly switch to a different publisher. I suppose I need to get on PS Publishing’s mailing list now, in case more Blaylock books are on their schedule.
In Pennies from Heaven, we’re introduced to Jane and Jerry Larkin. The former works at a local co-op, while the latter is restoring their old house. Jerry comes across an old gold coin in the aftermath of an earthquake, which sets in motion a series of events. It seems that many years ago in their town a bank heist took place, and Jerry might have found some hidden treasure. They both come up against a battle-axe of a local woman, who turns out to be far more than she appears. It’s a quintessential Blaylock tale; no hint of the supernatural in this one, mostly weird hijinks and odd characters. The hardcover is sold out by now, but Blaylock fans can still get the trade edition from PS Publishing, or both online from the odd dealer or two.
While in Austin Feb. 15 and 16 to run the Austin Half Marathon, I stopped by a few bookstores.
Jor R. Lansdale, Sugar on the Bones (2024). I paid full price for this book, at Book People on Sixth and Lamar. None of the local bookstores in San Antonio had a copy, but Book People still had signed copies from when Lansdale stopped by some time last year to promote his book. I managed to read the Lansdale book in one day. It follows similar plots to previous books in the Hap and Leonard series. Perhaps the next book in the series will be called Long in the Tooth, as those two chaps are getting close to retirement age. This is only a slight dig at the books; since the main characters age with each book, at some point they will need to stop. At this point they’re in their fifties, and it gets tougher to fight and recover at that age.
Dennis Etchison, Red Dreams (1984). A collection of short stories, published by Scream Press. The book is inscribed by Etchison, as well as illustrator J. K. Potter, and signed by Karl Edward Wagner, who wrote the introduction. I wonder what happened to “Joe,” the recipient of the inscriptions when Etchison and Potter signed it in 1985, for this book to end up at Half Price Books forty years later… Red Dreams is the first book by Scream Press that I own. There’s no price listed on this book, though it did come with a slipcase. This small press released some other great books in the 1980s, but I’ve never come across any until now. There’s a note at the front of the book that this is the “Boxed First Edition,” limited to 250 copies. Scream Press, like a few other small press publishers from the 1980s/1990s, lasted just a decade or so before it folded.
Lewis Shiner, The Edges of Things (1991). This book was published by Washington Science Fiction Association in Baltimore as a limited edition. My copy is number 346 of 600, signed by Shiner, illustrator Alicia Austin, as well as editor Mark L. Van Name. It was originally priced at $45 when published in 1991. According to the U.S. Inflation Calculator, this converts to $104.27 in today’s dollars. That’s quite a pricy book. HPB had priced the book at $20, which seemed like an great price to me. I like Shiner’s stories and style, and it was a book long on my watch list. WSFA published a book in honor of the guest of honor at Disclave, a Washington, D.C. area science fiction convention, from 1989 to 1992. Last year I bought the first book they published, Lucius Shepard’s Father of Stones. The book in between these two is by Mike Resnick. I’m not sure if anything was published in 1992, when Pat Cadigan was the guest of honor. [Edit: apparently there was a book published in honor of GoH Cadigan in 1992, the last in this series.]
One of the many mystery/detective series I’ve gotten into over the past few years has been Peter Lovesey’s Peter Diamond books; I’m not sure why Lovesey gave his leading character the same first name as his own, but it’s a bit confusing at times. At this point, I’m no longer sure which of the Diamond books I read first, as there’s now more than twenty of them. It might be Upon a Dark Night, or The Last Detective. According to my library database, the former is the first one entered, and the latter the second. The latter is also the first in the series. I might have started there, maybe not. I tend to start series out of order, since I buy them when I find them. Anyway, I found the first Lovesey book good enough to start looking for all of Peter Lovesey’s books. He has written other books, after all.
Of the 22 books in the Diamond series (if I’m correct regarding that number), I owned—until recently 19 books in the series. The 22nd book was recently published in hardcover, so I’ll discount that one for now. It also might be the last in the series, but I’ll need to wait for the paperback to be sure. Of the other two, one was the 20th in the series. The other, the seventh book in the series, is a far more consequential book. Since I’d read books 8-19, plus book 21, I knew that a singular and major event happened in Diamond’s (fictional) life at some point. Book seven, Diamond Dust, covers that event. It’s a tough read, for sure, knowing the fate in that book of someone close to Diamond.
Most of the books featuring police detective Peter Diamond take place in (or around) Bath, England. I’ve been to Bath twice in my life. The most recent visit was in 2024, where I spent three days in the city, walking the streets (and running through a fair number of them), seeing the sights, and falling in love with the town. My previous visit was in 2000, where I spent just one day there, and saw only a minuscule part of the city. Still, it was an important visit back in 2000, since I connected Bath at that time with Jane Austen. As an English major in college and a Jane Austen fan, that visit meat a great deal to me at the time.
Bath, despite being a touristy town (myself admittedly being one of those tourists), is a wonderful place. The city is ancient. It’s historic. It’s bisected by a river, which always is a thrill in itself. There are hills all around the city. Stonehenge is nearby, London and other places a mere train ride away. There’s the Abbey, the Roman baths, the Crescent, Pulteney Bridge, the weir, so many other features. It has a wonderful Waterstones bookstore, plus far more things that I never got to see. And, lots and lots of tourists. In other words: I love Bath (well, apart from the tourists, even though I was one of them…).
That aside, back to Lovesey’s Peter Diamond series….
All the books I have of Lovesey’s were published by Soho Crime. Once I started to buy and read the trade paperback editions, I had to continue with that format (Okay, so I do have a hardcover or two). I also read them out of order, more or less as I found them. Some, I bought new. Other books, because they weren’t in my local bookstores, I bought used—when and if I came across them in local used bookstores. A handful of the books I found in a specialty bookstore, Murder by the Book, in Houston, Texas. Even there, they didn’t have all the books as new ones.
In January, 20025 I came across Diamond Dust, one that I’d been hunting for quite some time (viz. book seven). This book was in the small used books section in Murder by the Book. I don’t visit Houston often, but I was able to swing to Murder by the Book for slightly less than an hour in January 2025. While there, I was thrilled to find a copy of Diamond Dust in great condition for a used book. Strangely enough, the other two books in the series that I lacked also were there, but I didn’t realize it at the time for one of them, and I skipped the other as it was a hardcover edition, and I have all the rest in trade paperback.
Part of the delight in the series is the setting: the city of Bath in England. Part of it is the main character himself: the overweight, clumsy, yet efficient and old-fashioned detective, Peter Diamond. He’s such a funny person, bumbling yet not stupid, that one can’t help but like him. In the series you also see the changing landscape of local policing. When I visited Bath in 2024, I walked past the supposed HQ of the Bath police department (or former HQ(, in Manvers Street; it’s near the train station, and close to the “center” of town—the area around the Abbey. I really wanted to go inside and ask if anyone had read Lovesey’s books, and if so, what they had thought of them. However, I’m sure I would have been disappointed. I don’t think I ever saw an officer of the law while in Bath. Would it have mattered? Probably not. Bath in real life is nothing like the fictional world. However much one might wish that someone like Peter Diamond existed—they don’t. Which is sad, I think.
Still, if you like good old fashioned English crime stories, seek out Peter Lovesey’s books. You won’t be disappointed. Meanwhile, I’m going to read Diamond Dust slowly, since I known there are powerful emotions at work in that book. I will try not to skip to the end. It’s hard, sometimes, dealing with the stress in a book like this. But, I must resist that temptation, since Diamond means so much to me. Let it all work out, I tell myself.
And then, once I’ve read this book: onward to those other two remaining books in the series.
I know that I’ll never collect them all, but I do like to pick up Arkham House books when I come across them. In this case, I recently acquired a group of four books by quite disparate authors. When I looked for information about the authors and when their books were published, I turned to Sixty Years of Arkham House by S. T. Joshi. The index in this book isn’t entirely accurate, and each entry is relatively short, covering publication date, number of copies, and a little more. Sometimes there’s an listing of contents for poems and short stories in the volume, but I guess that when covering 200 books there’s not too much room for anything else.
Joshi’s book lists 193 items published by Arkham House; I now own a mere 35 of them. This number is just under 20%, an almost insignificant percentage. I’m quite happy with the ones that I have, though, and I’ll only look for others if a) they’re within my budget and b) the condition looks decent.
The Face in the Mirror, Denys Val Baker Published in 1971, and now the earliest of my Arkham House books; 2045 copies printed. A slim volume of tales set in the author’s native Cornwall. Prior to this book the earliest Arkham House book that I owned was published in 1975. Having now come close to the magic decade of the 1960s, it makes me quite excited to have a copy of this book.
The Height of the Scream, Ramsey Campbell Published in 1976; 4348 copies printed. Campbells third Arkham House collection. I own just a couple of Campbell books. One is part of Borderlands Press “Little Book” series. The other is a collection from Dark Harvest with both Campbell and Charles Grant stories (Dark Harvest’s Black Wine). Aside from that, I may have a few anthologies where Campbell has contributed a story.
Dwellers in Darkness, August Derleth Also published in 1976; 3926 copies printed. The eighth and last Arkham House collection of Derleth stories. Derleth was one of the founders of Arkham House. To acquire the prior seven of his collection likely would bust a few budgets.
The Darkling, David Kesterton Published in 1982; 3126 copies printed. Kesterton’s name doesn’t appear in the index of Joshi’s 1999 book, and the book title’s page number listed in the index is incorrect. Joshi’s also quite dismissive of the book and author in his note, calling it a “‘Slushpile’ submission that made it’s way to publication.”
It’s such a shame that this major publisher of weird fiction fizzled into almost nothing when it had the major IP of the “Arkham House” name behind it. They’ve hardly published anything in the past two decades. Most of their books published prior to 1970 are hard to find or quite expensive. This is as expected, given the name, as well some of the authors works in that group. Arkham House released N copies for each of their books, no special editions. Golden Gryphon did the same. Most other small current presses will have two or three states: trade hardcover, limited, and/or ultra-limited. Trade books in these states don’t list how many are printed. Limited will list the number of copies in this state, while the ultra-limited usually are lettered books limited to 26 copies.
I’m by no means a Lovecraft fan, but recently saw a bidding war online for the first two collections of his letters rise from $0.99 to nearly $150. That’s a pittance if you interested in early Clark Ashton Smith, or Ray Bradbury’s Dark Carnival (I’ve seen these listed upwards of $6,500), or even William Hope Hodgson’s House on the Borderlands book (close to $1,000). Basically, all the early books fetch prices only the serious collector would pay.
I’m a huge fan of Haruki Murakami’s fiction. However, I don’t really read manga, the Japanese comic book art form/genre. Still, recently I picked up a pair of Murakami manga books (there’s a third one—at least—out there that I now need to find).
One book—I don’t know if there’s a sequence to them—contains four stories. The other, three stories. Previously, I’ve read all of these in narrative form. “Birthday Girl,” “Where I’m Likely to Find It,” and “The Seventh Man” appeared in the collection Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman, while “Super Frog Saves Tokyo” appeared in After the Quake.
In the other collection, “Thailand” was in After the Quake, while “The Second Bakery Attack” was in The Elephant Vanishes. As for “Samsa in Love,” it appears in Men Without Women., which is a strange choice since there’s a woman in that story. Although, how she’s drawn might lead to some confusion. “Samsa in Love” is, after all, an inversion of Kafka’s “Metamorphosis.”
So, several stories all drawn from various sources. I’ve now read four of of the seven manga tales. Maybe it’s my lack of knowledge of that genre, or graphic novels in general (although I do own a dozen or more graphic novels), but the drawings some across as oddly shaped, distorted almost. There are weird “sound-texts” or words that try to represent non-verbal sounds. Some stories are funny, some meander and go nowhere. I love Murakami’s slow and measured prose, how he makes the normal weird, and the weird normal, but I’m not sure about these manga versions. Is this because I prefer my own inner voice, my own vision of the characters and events? Maybe something to think about. Almost all the other graphic novels I own are original, although there are some based on stories or novels. Perhaps the art matters, as those are drawn, well, better.
Of course, now I’ll need to re-read the stories, just to see what was left out of the manga versions, if anything. And, I have just one unread Murakami book to plow through. I do hope his next novel reaches the heights of previous good books, as his latest was a disappointment.
Published in 1986 by Dark Harvest, this anthology contains stories from Ramsey Campbell, Lisa Tuttle, and Clive Barker, and edited by George R. R. Martin (Martin would later have stories in Night Visions 5).
The sole remaining book in the “Night Visions” anthology series from Dark Harvest (1984 through 1991) that I did not own, and long on my want list. Purchased for $42 on the very last day of 2024. Though it’s not pristine, the book is in great condition. As a bonus, it’s signed by Lisa Tuttle, though this copy is the trade edition. Seven stories by Campbell, three by Tuttle, and the first appearance of Barker’s “The Hellbound Heart.”
David B. Silva’s entry in the Borderlands Press little books series, A Little White Book of Lies, was until recently one of seven books in that series that I lacked (now down to six!). Originally published in 2005, this slim book is quite hard to find (I think I’ve seen it listed only once or twice in the past three years). Then again, that’s the fate for almost all the early Borderlands Press little books, ie. those published before 2006.
I found a copy online many months ago, but at that time considered it outside my budget. However, with a recently acquired gift card in hand, I secured the book for around $6 of my own money. Cheapskate? Opportunist? Maybe a bit of both. In my defense, I do buy the most recent ones direct from the publisher, and so they actually get my money, vs. dealers and resellers who bump up the prices to whatever the market can bear.
Silva’s books contains five stories, each centered around a lie, plus a brief introduction. Four of the stories have been published elsewhere, and one seems original to this collection.
This is first time (I think—correction: see below) that I’ve read anything by Silva. [Edited 1/2/2025: apparently I have read some of his stories before, as I found three anthologies in my book shelves with Silva stories: Night Visions 10 (Subterranean Press) with five stories, and one story each in Cold Blood (Ziesing) and Obsessions (Dark Harvest) and possible there are others.] From what I can tell, there is no Wikipedia entry on Silva, but Locus Magazine has an obituary, listing his death in 2013—eleven years (!) ago as I write this brief entry. According to that brief obituary, Silva died at the relatively young age of 62. Perhaps best known as the editor of The Horror Show (1982-1991), he also wrote a few novels and short stories.
Now, only six books in the series remain out of my grasp, and all are of the “insanely pricy” variety: Thomas Ligotti and Neil Gaiman I can understand; Joe Hill, maybe a rarity by association, although he’s been making a name for himself as well; Brian Keene and Josh Malerman, not sure why, but maybe I missed that bus; Douglas Winter, on the low end of the scale, yet still a worthy editor/writer. Prices for these books when they appear for sale (which is rare) range from $70 to $700. Quite a range there. Then again, I recently saw a copy of F. Paul Wilson’s book listed online for nearly $800. If ever there was a spit-take moment, that would be the time for one, as I bought it for a fraction of that price when it first was published. Still, with only 500 copies (for the most part) of these little books, and each numbered and signed, they’ll only get rarer. Unless I get lucky, this might be as fast as I go in the past, which is annoying, but acceptable.
Many years ago F. Paul Wilson wrote five novellas in the Sims “saga.” These novellas were published by Cemetery Dance between 2000 to 2010,. In between those dates, they were released as a novel by Tor Books in 2003. While the former novellas were limited, the novel from Tor was a mass market publication.
Why it took Cemetery Dance seven years after the novel was published to round out the five volumes remains a mystery to me. Each novella from Cemetery Dance was limited to 750 numbered copies, and signed by Wilson. As a Wilson fan, currently looking to fill in missing gaps of books published over the past few years, I never felt compelled to seek out these novellas, as I already had the collected set of novellas gathered in the book from Tor (inscribed to me by Wilson at the World Fantasy Convention in Austin, TX, in 2006, I think). However, when I found them listed this year from various sellers at prices well below the original listed price of $35 per book, I thought, “Why not?”
As I write this in 2024, I vaguely remember the plot of Sims, the novel. I know that I read it back then, and voted for it when it was nominated for the Prometheus Award. Over 20 years had passed since I last thought about this story. When I picked up the five individual novellas this year, I re-read them in that format. I was surprised at how little I remembered, yet also at some of the details that remained stuck in my memory.
The first book, La Causa, sets the stage. The world of Sims, much like the five-book world of the LaNague Federation, is independent of Wilson’s Secret History saga. Here, genetically enhanced chimpanzees are cheap labor (more like slaves; not to dissimilar from the clones in Dydeetown World), even acting as caddies on golf courses (or worse, as we’ll see). A young lawyer, Patrick Sullivan, gets asked by some of the sims to represent them to form a labor union, and takes the case. This puts him in opposition to SimGen, the company that created and owns the sims. Their attempts to intimidate him only makes him dig in his heels harder, and he ends up embracing their cause. Meanwhile, another character, Romy Cadman, works for the government investigating research risks, while at the same time moonlights for a shadowy person trying to bring down SimGen. Her handler in this group goes by Zero, wears a mask to hide his features, and seems to have insider knowledge into the plans and workings of SimGen. At once we have multiple, yet intersecting, conflicts with many potentials.
The second installment, The Portero Method, brings Sullivan closer together with Romy. Portero is the security head of SimGen, but also seems to be working for another group, one that occupies the shadows. The Portero method is harsh, brutal, and throws a major wrench in Sullivan’s unionizing attempts. It also drives into the same group as Romy and Zero, now even more determined to bring down SimGen.
The third, Meerm, introduces a new character, and a new element to the story, one that will bring everything to a crashing climax. Meerm is another sim, on the run from a low-budget gene-lab, yet one with the potential to bring down SimGen, and the race is on to find this sim. Three groups are trying to find her: Portero’s two employers, as well as Zero’s cell.
The fourth, Zero, focuses on the person behind the mask. As the prime mover against SimGen, Zero has hired both Patrick Sullivan and Romy Cadman, hiding behind a mask the entire time. We learn of his ties to SimGen, giving him inside information. The hunt for Meerm ratchets up, with multiple groups trying to find this pregnant sim.
The fifth and final entry, Thy Brother’s Keeper, ties it all together. Everything erupts when we learn of Zero’s identity, and the ending is both heroic and tragic. Meerm’s baby seals the fate of SimGen, although the true origin of the sims remains a secret the public will never know. Lives are shattered, and it’s not just a happy ending for everyone. Wilson truly keeps everyone on their toes.
With this stack of books in hand, signed and numbered, each limited to 750 copies, I wonder if owning them is any different from owning the Tor edition of Sims? My Tor edition of Sims is inscribed to me by Wilson, and although all the five novellas are signed, does this equate to talking to Wilson, handing him a book and getting it returned as inscribed? On one level, it doesn’t. And yet, the Tor book was printed in thousands of copies, while the Cemetery Dance books had a much lower print run. They also contain illustrations that the Tor book edition did not. I sometimes struggle between the idea of a collector and a fan. I’m a fan of FPW, but as a collector, I’m more random and haphazard in my actions. Yet, for some weird reason, owning these five books gives me a thrill that the Tor Books edition never gave me. Why is that? Is that some innate human behavior, or just a focused aspect of some obsessive compulsive disorder?
The Upwelling, Book I of The Hidden (2024). Written a few years before Wilson’s recent stroke, this is the first in a two book series, but just published this year. Given that he vowed to not write any Repairman Jack books after Nightworld (although he filled in a few earlier gaps with a pair of trilogies), this series might be seen as Wilson’s attempt to break away from Repairman Jack, yet still remain within his Secret History world. (Double Dose and Double Threat also fall into that category). It’s likely also Wilson’s last work of fiction. (That’s a sad sentence to write….)
Initially published as a trade paperback under the imprint of Crossroad Press Publishing (whatever that means), it now looks like Gauntlet Press will publish the book in a limited hardcover edition. Per their website, only the 26 lettered editions will bear Wilson’s signature, which is to be expected given his recent stroke.
I don’t think I was aware of either of these books until recently this year, when I saw some online review. In this novel, our protagonist, Chan Liao awakens to find a missing chunk of his memory. Along with three friends he spends a weekend at Atlantic City. In the span of a few hours the entire Atlantic City area was essentially vaporized, and he has no recollection of the events. Over 25,000 people died, and he has no idea where he was or what happened. One of those three friends, Danielle “Danni” Boudreau, an FBI agent, is in the same situation—no memory of what happened. This is an intriguing premise. Wilson quickly moves the location to the familiar New Jersey Pine Barrens. In the course of events he introduces a group of people with strangely enhanced abilities: two dead people refuse to burn, others claim to be thousands of years old. Chan and Boudreau trace events and actors to a mountain in upstate New York. Hints of the Ally and the Otherness, well-known players from the Repairman Jack series, make themselves known, along with a new entity, name the Squatter. Events come to a head, which lead into the sequel.
Lexie, Book II of The Hidden (2024). Picking up right after the events of The Hidden, Lexie brings various humans related to the Ally and the Otherness to the fore. These are well-known to Repairman Jack readers: the Septimus Order, and (perhaps less so) the Yeniçeri. Lexie also introduces “the Troika” three individuals who are aware of the Secret History: the two main players behind the scenes, and certain people linked to another of Wilson’s novels, Signalz (but, strangely, not Jack himself).
The namesake of the second book is an enhanced (super-intelligent?) seven year old, the offspring of a Squatter-enhanced and a normal human. This person, Lexie, can walk between parallel worlds, as well as possessing other powers. She’s highly intelligent, and conversely has zero emotions and empathy (think Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory). Along with Chao and Danni, she is needed to try to save the world, at least this one, given the multi-verse aspect of these novels. Although Jack is alluded to at one point as “the Defender” (or is that Glaeken?), we’re never sure if this is the same world as Repairman Jack, given the multi-verse aspect of the books.
I admit that I read the books quickly, as happens to be the case when I read FPW books. I have a few quibbles here and there with choices and actions, but overall I enjoyed the two books. There are many unanswered questions at the end. Perhqps, if FPW wasn’t burdened by his stroke, he might have rewritten certain scenes, or worked in a third book. The ending just seems unsatisfactory. Chan harbors a great love for Boudreau, and while she considers him a friend, she’s stated multiple times her lesbian leanings. This situation just never seemed like it reached a resolution, though Liao had other options given to him. Wilson also cheats multiple times by writing Liao as a “Bruce Lee” look-alike, which gives him zero character as an individual. Perhaps I’m just annoyed that the events appear to be part of his Secret History and yet avoid all mention of Repairman Jack. I guess that’s just my feelings at play.
