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Pat Ritter. Books


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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Sun Dec 28, 2014 1:07 am

Thank you for your kind wishes. We had a wonderful break and ready to get back into work: here is the story for today: 'Dynamic OMR Stories' - Story 4:

An Echo From The City

Brisbane National Show or the ‘Ekka’ is in full swing in our capital city at present. Memories flood back at the different times I attended the ten day event.
I couldn’t remember attending the Ekka early in my childhood, but I do remember going with my friend as a teenager. This particular night we waited to ride on the chain swing similar to a Hills clothes hoist with hanging chairs held by chains swinging wide and high depending on the speed the ride travelled.
Waiting for our ride one of the riders opened their mouth and vomit exploded spewing over the crowd. We didn’t get hit, luckily. Many did and the smell caused us to leave the ride and venture onto another.
Years later I worked at the ‘Ekka’ as a police officer finding ‘lost children’ returning them to their parents. We worked to maintain law and order; we weren’t supposed to enjoy ourselves. You’d be surprised to what a police officer got up to when his superior wasn’t looking or checked on them.
After retiring from the force I gained employment at the ‘Ekka’ in the office and there discovered how the annual show followed on from year to year without a hitch. This became an amazing personal experience because until this time I never had any idea of ‘how’ the ‘Ekka’ succeeded over ten days once a year to be such a success.
The following year I returned to the ‘Ekka’ to work over the ten day period and this time performed a different task as the one I did the previous year. This gave me another dimension of how the system worked.
I worked in the office the previous year my role to send out membership badges to members for the duration of the show, when each member could enter as many times as they wished.
My role this particular year became a position at the front entrance opposite the Royal Brisbane Hospital. Patrons either paid to enter the grounds or showed their membership badge. A game many of the young people attending the show began when a patron entered the turnstile, displayed their badge to enter the grounds.
This member then clipped the badge onto the side of his hat, walked to the side wall and threw his hat over the wall. This act was bought to my attention I recorded each membership number as the patron entered the grounds. The same number appeared; I confiscated the membership badge informing the holder it’d be cancelled forthwith. At least this stopped the non-payers from entering.
This occurred so many years ago. I remember as if this event happened yesterday. These memories certainly have been an echo from the city and will remain in my mind forever.
Word count: 467
IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THESE STORIES CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/501597.

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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby dub » Sun Dec 28, 2014 7:58 pm

Wow Pat, as I progressed through your narrative I became convinced; when the scamming started.
That you where about to look the other way :-D
How wrong I was :wub
You back footed me there :joker
Great read! :thumbsup
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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Sun Dec 28, 2014 10:54 pm

Thank you dub. I had a job to do. Here is the story for today: 'Dynamic OMR Stories' - Story 5:

And Then There Was Light

Earlier that morning the telephone echoed through my home. My wife answered the phone and returned to her warm bed, 'you're wanted.'
'Get your clothes on and meet me at the station.' The words rang in my ear. After dressing, kissing my wife good-bye I drove to the office my work colleague waited with the engine running.
'What's up?' I asked after we'd headed in an easterly direction.
'Oakey Golf Club's been broken into again.'
I didn't need to hear any more for my companion developed a sore head when awakened early. We drove in silence my mind filled with thoughts of not again, how many people; were they still on the premises; and if my companion would settle before we arrived. Darkness enveloped our vehicle only seeing with the headlights shining on the roadway.
Arriving at the golf club the local sergeant filled us in on the latest developments. The clubhouse had been broken in and alcohol taken. Footprints lead from the clubhouse toward a huge railway shed for storing hay. These sheds would conceal anyone.
My companion decided to leave the safety of the police officers and walk to the hay bales. My mind went cold thinking he must've taken his wrong pills before coming on this investigation.
Striding through long grass walking toward these huge hay sheds, darkness engulfed us. No moon nor stars to guide us.
'Why not wait until daylight,' I told him almost stumbling when my foot hit something in the long grass. He kept walking in silence. Closing in on the sheds stacked with hay almost filled to the roof, we continued.
He stopped. I bumped into him, 'watch where you're going,' he said and crouched on the ground, 'I'm trying to listen.' Silence fell between us only hearing the noise of crickets chirping in the long grass.
And then there was light. Almost immediately we sprang to our feet running toward the dim light on the other side of the bales of hay. Two men sat sharing a bottle of rum, 'we got away again,' one laughed and took a swallow from the bottle.
'Police!' My colleague shouted, we both ran toward the two men seated on a bale of hay. The one holding the bottle threw the bottle in our direction, both started to run but my colleague was too swift and stopped them before they'd gone far.
After arresting them the sergeant arrived to take them into custody. We returned to our vehicle. This time they didn't get away.
Word count:427
IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THESE STORIES CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/501597.

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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Mon Dec 29, 2014 10:26 pm

Thank you dub. Here is the story for today: 'Dynamic OMR Stories' - Story 6:

Confessions Of A Swan Upper

You may ask, 'what is a swann upper?' I'm pleased you asked because Edward IV passed this act in 1482, establishing how much land he needed to keep his game of swans, thus preventing ownership of swans by other people.
My particular role as a swann upper to capture each swan without harm. When the swans are gathered together, each swan captured has a ring fastened to their feet and counted. This became a yearly census of the number of swans in the river.
During the third week of July since 1482 this process is done by swann uppers. You may think it a little over-the-top but I share with you in 2009 on 20th July, Queen Elizabeth 11 attended the Swann Upping ceremony for the first time in her reign, and the first monarch to watch the ceremony in centuries.
You can imagine how excited I was the Queen attended, I almost wet my pants. Only three years later in 2012 the ceremony was cancelled because of flood being the first time in 900 year history. Actually, I didn't know what to do with myself.
With this pertinent information out of the way I'll share with you a story of how I become involved in this course of work. In my early youth I became a 'bit of a lad' or so I thought. With my friends we'd annoyed the swann uppers because of what they did for the monarchy.
On the morning before the swans are to the gathered for their census and leg ringing, my friends and I decided to play a joke on the swann uppers. We'd earlier caught a swan and dressed it in royal clothes fastening a crown to it's head. We'd teach them to take care of the swans in the Thames.
You should've seen the look on the faces of each swann upper when in amongst other swans one dressed like royalty. We took up our hiding place behind the rushes and peeked through to keep an eye on what happened next.
They called the blimey Queen's Guards, they did! We didn't realise they'd take their duty seriously. Anyway, not long afterwards, we were gathered up as criminals and taken to his majesty for justice to be dealt out.
After long deliberation between each party the decision made for each of us to become a swann upper for the remainder of our lives, and that my friend is my confession of becoming a swann upper.
Word count:421
IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THESE STORIES CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/501597.
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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Tue Dec 30, 2014 10:23 pm

'Dynamic OMR Stories' - Story 7:

Famous Last Words

My father and I haven’t got the best father-son relationship. Many times I’ve analysed my feelings toward him and came up with a nil result. We’ve had this problem for the past fifty years and I doubt anything will change.
For a time I worked as an alcohol and drug counsellor to discover how certain behaviour affect different people, including myself. Did you know a person’s life is dependent upon how each child was treated from birth until aged six years? There are two options, one being loved and nurtured and the other being abused, sexually or verbally.
Analysing my life up to aged six years I saw my father as a hero, standing on a high pedestal. I would’ve done anything to please him. Unfortunately by practising this behaviour I became a ‘people pleaser’ not only to my father but to almost everyone. I couldn’t say no!
Growing through adolescence this behaviour of being a ‘people pleaser’ strengthened and I became very good at pleasing others, particularly my father. I would do anything for him especially when he arrived home drunk. I remember making him a boiling hot cup-of-coffee and watched him slurp the coffee to his mouth, then with the other hand drink cold beer from a stubby. I honestly thought this was normal behaviour.
Our relationship of father-son fell apart around this period, I don’t know exactly why, might have been all the times he promised to do things together and at the last moment he’d change his mind. Anyway, I left the family home to venture out in the unknown world to discover myself. I was fifteen years old.
I’ll never forget those famous last words my father used before I left, ‘you are an idiot’. At that moment I must admit I felt as though I was an idiot because I knew I was nothing else.
After five years of separation I returned to again live in the family home thinking something had changed between my father and me. Our relationship worsened. The name ‘idiot’ used more times than I care to remember. These famous words seeped into my soul thinking I’d never be anything else.
Lucky for me at this stage of my life, I’d reached the age of twenty-one and joined the Queensland Police. If I had previously had issues with my father these were minimal compared to the issues after I joined the police.
Like I mentioned I worked as an alcohol and drug counsellor, after I retired from the police of twenty years service. When I discovered my behaviour was a ‘people pleaser’ I needed to change. Over a twelve month period I worked harder than I’d ever worked on anything in my life to change this behaviour. I did it!
Now when I hear my father’s famous last words, ‘you’re an idiot’, I ignore the comment and get on with my life knowing I’m not an idiot and they were his famous last words, not mine!
Word count: 502
IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THESE STORIES CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/501597.

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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Wed Dec 31, 2014 10:37 pm

Thank you dub for your kind thanks: Here is the story for today: 'Dynamic OMR Stories' - Story 8:

Heavy Duty

In 1978, Mr Malcolm Fraser, Prime Minister of Australia visited our region. My role at the time a member of the Criminal Investigation Branch at Dalby, a country town three hours travel west from Brisbane.
How our lives dovetailed together became heavy duty to the most powerful person in Australia at the time. With other detectives I became one of the Prime Minister’s personal guards, wherever he went, so did a team of four armed guards which included yours truly.
Mr Fraser visited another country town near Toowoomba to open an exhibition. His personal bodyguards consisted of selected members of the Australian Federal Police never left his side. We, on the other hand kept a distance with eyes searching for any assassins.
Superintendent Byers, our boss, supervised all police during Mr Fraser’s visit. We met the Prime Minister’s plane on arrival at Oakey Airbase and escorted his motor cavalcade through the back roads to arrive at a small hamlet outside of Toowoomba.
Once the Prime Minister left his vehicle, he joined the local chairman and committee members; our role, to mingle amongst the crowd, keeping a lookout for any suspicious actions to be taken against the Prime Minister.
Amongst the gathering I estimated about two thousand people. At one time it became almost impossible to see the location of the Prime Minister when so many joined him to celebrate this occasion.
I remember standing among the gathering when Superintendent Byers came up beside me and asked, ‘where’s the Prime Minister?’ At the time I didn’t have a clue, however I saw a cluster of people gathered near the hall, ‘over there Superintendent’ and I pointed toward the gathering.
‘You’d better get closer because if someone shoots him you’re to jump in front to take the bullet.’ My mind went blank with thoughts jumping in front of the Prime Minister of Australia to take a bullet for him. I thought, not bloody likely, they can replace a Prime Minister but they can’t replace me.
I answered the Superintendent ‘yes sir’ and immediately lost myself in the crowd.
On our return to Oakey Airbase, Superintendent Byers led the procession in a marked police vehicle followed by the Prime Minister’s vehicle. We followed in an unmarked police vehicle close behind the Prime Minister’s vehicle.
Suddenly up ahead a vehicle left the road and stopped on the gravel shoulder. The vehicle carrying the Prime Minister stopped behind this vehicle. Mr Fraser alighted from his vehicle and walked to where the driver stopped on the side of the road.
Mr Fraser apologised for the incident, shook the driver’s hand and called out to the driver of the Superintendent’s vehicle which happened to be Superintendent Byers, ‘slow down, we don’t need to kill anyone.’ I smiled and thought karma. This was heavy duty indeed.
Word count:473
IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THESE STORIES CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/501597.

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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Thu Jan 01, 2015 10:20 pm

Thank you dub. Here is the story for today: 'Dynamic - OMR - Stories': Story 9:

I Don't Know How Much Awful It Can Get

Last week my computer decided after a couple of years friendship with me to depart with a crash taking some of my work. At first I became alarmed. Now it was gone and I don't know how much awful it can get.
For many years my adviser tells me what type of computer I should have and this time was no different. Under normal times she'd build one to my design. Unfortunately this time her words, 'buy a new one' ricocheted through my brainwaves. My mouth opened with thoughts of I can't do this!
I needed a computer for without one, honestly, what I would do all day. I write and write and write, I'm not into gardening or house cleaning, all I do is write. You may say my life is dull compared to many other retired people but I love what I do and without a computer I'm lost.
Daily my task of posting information on facebook and other websites to market my books. If I let my customers down I'd be letting myself down. My decision to purchase a new computer became a no-brainer. Now a decision to purchase the correct one.
Where do I purchase this computer? I hate visiting those computer stores when a pimply teenager shows you disrespect because of your age. He didn't grow up in a world of no computers, only a wind-up alarm clock the closest comparison. We had no knowledge of what a computer looked like little wondering once we understood them, we totally depended on them to live.
So off to the computer shop and pray I'd be able to purchase one of my choice. Luck became my angel sitting on my shoulder when I entered the store. Lines of computers sat like sentinels waiting to be purchased. Pick me, pick me!
When I'm about to purchase anything I admit to taking the first one which is shown to me. This time a kind lady, much older than a pimply teenager asked if she could help. My thoughts relaxed to explain to this wonderful shop attendant I wanted to purchase a computer.
As if by magic a computer, a screen the size of a huge television took my eye, 'I'll take that one,' I told her and pointed to the one on the display table.
'Great choice,' she said, 'got the latest 8.1 windows without all of the bells and whistles.'
'Thank you', I replied, 'I only want a simple machine to type'.
After paying for the computer | was as pleased as punch. Now to learn the latest technology.
My friend installed the software which I'd been accustomed with and away I went to again rise above myself with a brand spanking new computer. This was likened to selling my old Toyota and purchasing a brand new one.
Eventually this latest technology has filtered into my slow brain and I must admit to become acquainted with this latest technology. Now I realise technology is not all so damaging to my mind, only the leap of faith to encompass this.
Word count: 523
IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THESE STORIES CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/501597.

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