The Gospel of Neil (Part One)

Ted Krever: Writing and other forms of torture Posted on by

Just to get business out of the way first:

The 99 cent sale on my thriller ‘Mindbenders’ is going on for ONE MORE WEEK!

F. Paul Wilson, author of the Keep (NY Times bestseller!) and the Repairman Jack novels, says “Don’t miss Mindbenders!”

Tom Monteleone, author of Blood of the Lamb (NY Times bestseller!) says “A dead-on thriller for the decade . . . . I can’t imagine anyone reading this and not wanting more.”

So how come you’re still missing out? At 99 cents?

More details here.

Okay, end of commercial. On to Neil:

You can’t judge a creative person by worldly success. It’s not that we’re not in favor of it; everyone wants to pay their bills and have a bit left over at the end of the month. My personal dream is to be able someday to take my special girl (this is part of the specialness of the dream—finding the girl who can put up with me) to the airport, scan the departures and say, “Let’s take THAT one.”

But I digress…

Neil Young is my patron saint. Not of music, but of creativity and managing your creativity. I’ve probably learned more from him than all other sources combined. And I’m offering these lessons as suggestions to you all, even though I’m (so far) not on the NY Times bestseller list.

Because living a creative life is its own reward.

1) Focus on the Core

‘Neil writes like three songs a day—every day,” David Crosby said, shaking his head in 1974. While other artists got sidetracked into being performers or guitar heroes, fashion statements or political lightning rods, Neil kept writing songs. He focused on songs from the beginning as the central job—the part that had an independent life, that would live on separate from and after him—and has approached songwriting throughout his career as a job, therapy and an outlet.

2) Your Job As an Outlet

How cool is that? Work hard but let it all hang out. Control, discipline and abandon. Not an easy mixture. It has to come from deep passion. You have to really care and really remember that you’re really not that important, all at once. If you can put all that together, you should come up with something fairly unique in this world.

3) Release the Clinkers

Paul Strand, the legendary photographer, was once asked how you become a great photographer. He answered, “Only show them your good pictures.” Most creative people choose that approach.

Not Neil. For every ‘Tell Me Why’ and ‘Down By the River’, there’s also a ‘T-Bone’ ( ten minutes with Crazy Horse singing ‘Got Mashed Potatoes-Aint’ Got No T-Bone.’ Those are the entire lyrics to the song—listen here if you dare).

Everybody’s got clinkers but Neil puts his out. This was real important to me at an early stage because it was part of the abandon I needed. I am by nature shy and introverted. I had to move past my native caution, first in stories and then eventually in life, sort of (I’ve settled for a generalized social backwardness—it’s my style).

I consider ‘A Crafty and Devious God’ one of my clinkers. But it’s out there. It’s my first novel—it’s how I got here.

When you abandon something that was the focus of your passion, even for a short while, it’s like being afraid of your past. The thing becomes a weight in the back of your mind. Better to let it loose, let it find its own life. And ‘Crafty God’ is one of my friend Barry’s favorites of my books, so maybe I’m wrong about it. I wrote it but that doesn’t mean I have the clearest view—in fact, it could very easily mean the opposite.

4) Don’t worry about Polish—Go for the Feel

Nicolette

Nicolette Larson was a lovely talented singer and a good soul. She and Neil were together for maybe his most beautiful album ‘Comes a Time’ and a few subsequent tours. She said he would drive her crazy at playback sessions because he would say ‘Here’s the track that you did with that great harmony line—and here’s one where we sound really good together—but here’s the one we’re putting out, because the FEEL is right.’

Sometimes it’s hard to listen to Neil and believe that anyone actually worked hard to have songs sound like that. It’s much easier to believe that the take was just thrown together on the fly. And Neil is notorious for things like telling Linda Ronstadt (and Nicolette) that they were rehearsing a song and afterward, when Linda said “Okay, when do we go for the take?”, saying “Oh we got it—that was it.”

But Neil is a notorious control freak, as creators tend to be. He told Kenny Buttrey, a fabled drummer who played on ‘Harvest’, “No left hand” (I can’t find the quote, I think it was the left). Meaning, no fills. Just the basic beat. And held him to it in concert. So the loose and the restrictive work hand in hand but what you’re going for is a feeling of spontaneity, which is not necessarily the same thing as the reality.

So my thriller ‘Mindbenders’ (not comparing myself to Neil—just talking creative process) went through the normal four or five drafts any book gets. But when I got to the end, where I would normally do just a polish, putting some wax on the paint and Armorall on the tires, I wrote the whole thing over, start to finish, from scratch, from memory. I think I lifted a grand total of twenty pages out of previous drafts.

Because now that I knew what the story was about, I wanted to see it all again in my head. I wanted to play it back and write it all at once, so it would read spontaneous. It might not be as perfect—but it would feel more real. All art is illusion—but if it feels real, you can arouse a real emotional reaction from the reader, which is the only justification for making a fuss over this stuff.

5) Don’t Be Afraid to Leave Things Behind

Crosby Stills Nash and Young were the biggest band in the world, in 1970 and again when they reunited in 1974. They were supposed to do an album after the mammoth tour of the US and Wembley in England. If the album had been bad, it would have made each of them millions. But the tour featured a lounge with bowls of cocaine, hookers on the payroll and very few new songs by the others. Neil traveled on a separate bus , premiered something like eight or nine songs on the tour; the other guys had one or two apiece, maybe. When they went into the studio, Stills and Nash had an argument over a harmony note—one note. Neil said, “See you guys tomorrow.” He came back twenty-eight years later. On his terms.

He left Stills in the middle of a tour in 1976 (the Stills-Young Band). The bus driver was coming to a crossroads and Neil said “Which way is the next gig?” The driver said “Right” and Neil said “Turn left.” He sent Stills a telegram saying, “Funny how things that start out spontaneously sometimes end that way. Eat a Peach. Neil”

Which leads to:

6) Just Keep Going

Good times, bad times, good songs, bad songs, breakups with girlfriends, two sons (from different mothers) with MS, being sued by his own record company—Neil kept writing and performing live.

When he was told he had a brain aneurysm in 2005 and that it needed to be operated on in a week, his immediate response was ‘Can I fly? Is that a problem?’ The doctor said ‘Sure you can fly-it might kill you but it’s not a problem.’ Neil thought that was a funny line. He flew to Nashville, wrote and cut most of an album ‘Prairie Wind.’ And was back in New York the next week for the operation. The album’s about mortality—who’d’a thought?

I worked on a show called ‘Day One with Forrest Sawyer’ at ABC News a long time ago. We worked for six months preparing before we hit air the first time and the show’s producers kept relentlessly editing the same pieces over and over. Why not give these a rest? Build a bank of good stories? No, these are our first—they have to be PERFECT! Once we finally hit air, we went through the bank in a month and then we were cutting pieces in two weeks—and they were better, crisper, more to the point.

That experience confirmed another lesson I learned from Neil, from that period where he was throwing off songs like playing cards—if you stop thinking so much, you do not just more work but better work. So I’ve spent years trying to think less and do more. Let it come from the subconscious. Understand it’s all there already, all you have to do is liberate what’s inside.

All art is liberation. That’s why it’s personal and universal—because we all need to liberate ourselves. That’s the journey.

7) Oh yeah – one more quick one:

Guy in the audience: “They all sound the same!”

Neil: “It’s all one song!”

Indeed.

There’s more, believe it or not, some of it makes even less sense than this. But this is enough for now. Eat a peach.

And Happy Canada day.

The Meeting

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He was late arriving. He usually isn’t late.

“What happened?”

“They decided we needed a staff meeting to perk us up. Our sales are in the tank, the client’s probably going to replace us, which means they’ll lay most of us off and we all know it. What are they going to tell us that’s going to perk us up?”

“Sorry.”

He shrugged. He had a way of shrugging with both shoulders, kind of a time delay, a sequence. Over the years, I’d even tried on occasion to keep track—did one particular shoulder start the sequence? based on specific occasions? on specific types of emotion? We’d been through so much together…but I’d never been able to pin it down.

“What are you going to do?” I asked, idly. It wasn’t like I had anything useful to offer.

“What can I do? I’ll put out resumes.”

“I did. It wasn’t that long ago—”

“I remember.”

“I had to find a whole new business.”

“It’s true,” he conceded, “but we’re not that young anymore. In this economy, you don’t know who’s going to want you.”

Silence. The waitress brought his coffee. We’d been meeting at the diner long enough that we didn’t order anymore. They knew us, they knew what we took. They made me my tea—they kept honey behind the counter and cut lemon slices for me even though no one else used them.

We sat comfortably in silence. I didn’t know that many people I could do that with.

“Two years today,” I said finally.

“I know—I knew it as soon as I woke up this morning. I didn’t wake up and then know it—it was already in me when I woke up.”

My turn to shrug, but I always did it the same way.

“You never know who’s going to want you, ever,” I said.

He smiled. “That’s what put us here.” He tapped the table. I nodded. I remembered the both of us in black suits with wet cheeks. You don’t think of a diner as a house of solace. A church maybe, a bar maybe. Not a diner. But it was for us.

“She would have had an idea for you,” I told him flat-out. “She would have had a plan in about three seconds.”

“She had energy to burn, that’s sure,” he said. A mischievous smile crossed his face now and every time I saw that smile, I couldn’t help but see it through her eyes. I hated it at first, seeing him that way, seeing what must have attracted her to him, those mischievous eyes. But I had to admit: if I’d been a woman, I’d have been drawn in too.

“I would never have approached you, you know that,” he said and I thought it was funny, for him to have finally told me that, after two years.

“I know,” I nodded. “I know you well enough by now. You were discreet.”

“I wanted what she had to give me. She made it clear you came first. You were her life. She just had more—”

“Let’s—leave it there,” I said, my heart in my throat all of a sudden. Two years later. I looked him in the eye so I knew he understood what I was saying. “We’re okay, you and I. We pretty much have been from the beginning. When I saw you at the funeral, I knew. It’s why I introduced myself here. Once she’s dead, what’s the difference?”

“It’s kept her alive,” he said. “We don’t have to talk about her. When we’re sitting here together—”

“Yeah,” I said, clipped. And then, “yeah” again, like it meant something different the second time.

“What about that girl you were seeing?”

“She was nice. Nothing wrong with her.” I stirred the tea, moved the honey around until the water got dark, more intense, until the lemon would bite into the honey, until the taste would make me pucker. They knew how I wanted it here. “But I think I’m better on my own. Whenever I get around another woman—”

“There’s a hole.”

“Yeah.”

“She was a great girl. You were a lucky guy.”

“We both were.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “You buying?”

“It’s my turn,” I said. They never charged us anymore anyway. He smiled and took off. I kept stirring my tea, watching the color deepen.

 

Imagination (Don’t Make It So)

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The wonderful thing about imagination is that you see things other people don’t. The problem with imagination is that you see things other people don’t.

Artists have a lousy record with reality. Part of the deal is that your mind wanders all over the place—there has to be some sort of random-thought generator going on inside, because things that would just fly right by the normal brain quickly find a home and start to grow and multiply like weeds in an untended yard. Pretty soon, that piece of paper on the curb turns into a note someone threw out the window of a car while they were being kidnapped and…hey, that’s not a bad story, is it?

But the other reason it’s a blessing is because artists tend to use imagination for a comforting and maybe misleading purpose: to draw lines between people and events, to assign meaning and feeling to the shifts in the wind and the coming of the sunshine after the rain. All these things take on a cast of intention in stories and paintings and songs that they show no sign of actually having in life. Because art talks about the inner life and then translates the outside world to suit.

The problem with a creative mind is that you can’t turn it off when dealing with real life and sometimes that causes problems. You see possibilities in real things and real people that they just don’t see or may not even be slightly interested in. You trace meaning into a situation where other people are just rolling along, minding their own business, letting the wind blow. And sometimes you hurt people because you just don’t understand why they didn’t see (or care about) what you saw so clearly.

And then you wake up.

Today, I’m going to let the sun shine and the wind blow and remind myself that they don’t mean a thing. And when other people talk to me or look me in the eye and smile or frown, I’ll try to remember I’m just a bit player in their movie, too.

 

 

‘Green’ Review

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I got a review in The Chronicle of the Horse Magazine for ‘Green.’ Chronicle’s website published four slightly-rewritten excerpts of the novel last winter and so this was the follow-up:

Before you dive into Ted Krever’s Green, be forewarned—this is not really a book about horses. It’s a book based around horses, using the equine-infested setting of Ireland’s lush pastures as a backdrop. But if you’re looking for a novel where human relationships—how they work and, sometimes, don’t—form the backbone of the story, Green might be a good choice.

The narrator Paul, a middle-aged man working through an identity crisis and stint of underemployment, experiences the world of horses as an outsider, aided by his not-quite girlfriend Emily during a trip to Ireland. They attend an auction and go on a dramatic foxhunt, but it’s clear that Paul never really buys into that scene. Surprisingly, his neophyte attitude toward everything horse-related only adds to the tale. What starts as a brief vacation for Paul turns into a longer-term business opportunity, and it all happens alongside the real meat of the novel, a series of romantic entanglements (complete with someR-rated scenes, making this book unsuitable for children or teens).

The whole story takes place over about a week, and the pace moves quickly, enticing you to keep turning the pages. Sometimes Paul’s seemingly inflated sense of self-worth served as a turn-off, but just when I would be ready to give up on him, Krever would add a bit of humanity and draw me back in. The other main characters, Emily and feisty Irish barkeep Jillian, appear likeable and realistic.

Krever is deft with his use of language,and the skillful dialogue adds personality to the characters. And while sometimes the political discussions, based around the first Iraq War, impede and confuse the storyline, it usually finds it way back around. Lisa Slade]]

I still say I have an entirely legitimate inflated sense of self-worth but that’s, as they say, what makes horse races…

 

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‘Must read, HIGHLY recommended, science fiction meets fact’

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By Katya_Sozaeva on Goodreads:

Greg has been out of the military for a year now and is living in with a man he calls Uncle Dave; his mind was fried by the stress of his experiences in the Middle East, causing severe memory loss and problems with speaking and even thinking. Hearing screaming, he leaves his room and finds Dave Monaghan dead in the bathroom, the screams coming from the small TV showing the assassination of the Indian premiere. Before he can really process all of this, a man known to him as Mr. Dulles shows up, tells him to pack his stuff and takes him away – they haven’t gone far before the house explodes.

This is only the very beginning of “Mindbenders,” a story in which science fiction and fact combine (and which is based upon real events and programs). Mindbenders are people who are able to affect things with their minds – mostly through mind reading and affecting other people’s thoughts.

Dulles – Max – turns out to be a particularly powerful mindbender with a checkered past. Dave, it turns out, has used Greg as a vessel – storing information subconsciously in Greg’s mind that Max and Greg must use in order to answer their questions. Initially seeking only to understand Dave’s killing and why it happened, Max and Greg discover they must combat a group of other mindbenders that threaten the whole world in their lust for money and power. They seek out others to help them, achieving a final count of four people – Max, Greg, Kate and Mark – against a vast, multinational conspiracy.

I was enthralled by this story and absolutely devoured it. It is fast-paced, exciting and yet allows for good character development and back-story. The author – Ted Krever – cleverly uses run together words and phrases to create ideas, such as an instance in which Greg thinks he would need a degree in “Idontknowwhat” in order to understand a situation in which he has been placed. Mr. Krever also has a good grasp of character dynamics and the interactions between his characters is realistic and interesting.

Overall I must say I was mightily impressed. I can recommend this story to anyone who enjoys a good thriller, suspense science/science fiction story, which covers a lot of people. In fact, anyone who enjoys a good tale should give this one a try – I think you’ll be as impressed as I was!

Reminder: The ‘Mindbenders’ ebook is now ON SALE for only 99 cents! Or if you buy the awesomely lovely trade paperback (which can also double as a really useful doorstop or iPad prop once you’ve finished reading), you qualify for our ‘Free Beer With the Author’ promotion anytime you’re in New York! Buy two and give one to a friend!

 

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‘Green’ Trailer

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The book isn’t as long as ‘War and Peace’ but the trailer is. Sorry.


Don’t Forget – the ‘Mindbenders’ ebook is still on sale for 99 cents! And if you buy a trade paperback version of ‘Green’ or ‘Mindbenders’ (just like the one I use in the trailer!), I buy you a beer next time you’re in New York.
In fact – what the hell! – I’ll extend the offer. If I happen to be where you are, I still owe you a beer! Because that’s the kind of guy I am.

For: Amazon (Kindle)

All other ebooks

Trade paperback

 
For Amazon (Kindle)

All other ebooks

Trade paperback

‘Mindbenders’ Review

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Before we get to the good stuff, just remember: The 99 Cent Sale and Free Beer Giveaway continues!

Buy a lovely trade paperback copy of ‘Green’ or ‘Mindbenders’ for $14.99 and I buy you a beer the next time you’re in New York City (unless I’m working or out of town or…we’ll figure it out). Details further down on this page! Or buy the ebook for the ridiculous price of only 99 cents (but no beer)! Okay, read on-

‘Mindbenders’ Review by Bonnie Lamer on her blogsite and Smashwords:

[Greg is a vet suffering from debilitating memory loss. The man who took it upon himself to help him through, possibly draw out the memories and his voice, is suddenly killed. Now, the only person left to trust is the man who tells Greg that he is a map of sorts. A map of the locations of the people who once served the government as mindbenders. A defunct program with a lot of loose ends.

Greg and Max follow a path that leads them to a disturbing reality. Someone wants to kill hope, the most important of all human emotions; the one that keeps people going in their day to day lives. Rounding up a small team of people who share their desire to set things right, they piece together the clues and ready themselves for the final showdown.

In Mindbenders, Ted Krever takes the reader on a fantastic journey of the mind. His characters unfold and expand, keeping the reader riveted, turning the page to see how they grow. His suggestions of what governments are willing to do to breed the best possible weapon are disturbing but yet – believable. The search for power, greed, and control is too much temptation, and when others who are like Max decide big business is more lucrative than helping governments succeed, the world is trouble.

Ted Krever had me hooked from page one. Throughout the book, the reactions, the feelings of the characters, all seemed real. I felt their discomfort, their reluctance, and I felt their minds growing and blossoming into the people they needed to become. Mr. Krever’s writing style is clean and concise, and his ability to describe what is happening keeps you in the moment, able to understand how the characters felt or reacted – “Well, I’m not comfortable running away without a good reason,” Fine answered, speaking slowly, biting each word off as if they came a la carte.

Mindbenders is an incredible read and I was recommending it to others before I even finished reading it. I loved the characters with their flaws and their quirks. I loved the action and the way the characters used their powers. The idea of people like this actually existing in our reality is disquieting, to say the least. Ted Krever’s world is a scary one, but one you shouldn’t miss reading about.

This book deserves every bit of the five stars I give it.]

 

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purchase on Amazon.
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Smashwords.
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trade paperback.

Buy a Book-I Buy You A Beer!

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The Internet is supposed to break down the walls between writers and readers and that all sounds good but I’m tired of metaphors. Let’s talk REAL interaction!

beer

Buy a paperback – I buy you a beer!

I’m not promising some expensive micro-brew – I’d like to still make something on this deal. But yes, you could be a pioneer in new frontiers of Internet marketing! (When you say stuff like that, you have to have an exclamation point at the end – the union insists.)

Here is all the fine print (and I printed it big for you this time, since you’re not as young as you used to be):

our legal department

You (hereafter referred to as ‘You’) buy a lovely trade paperback version of ‘Green’ or ‘Mindbenders’, my two best books (Moneyback guarantee, as per our legal department: If you’re not entirely satisfied after thirty days, I don’t know what you can do about it) on Amazon Createspace for the bargain price of $14.99.

Buy the ‘Green’ paperback here.

Buy the Mindbenders paperback here.

Then you (‘You’) email me (hereafter referred to as ‘Me’ or ‘I’, depending on the technicalities: see Marshall vs. Westmoreland, 1857, ipso facto, et al) at tedkrever@gmail.com (Address line: Free Beer Offer)and tell me the next time you’ll be in New York. If I can work out the timing (as long as I’m not working), I’ll meet you someplace  and we (hereafter referred to as ‘We’, within limits) will have a beer. You get to ask me one question while I’m sober (That doesn’t mean I promise to answer). Of course, after I’ve had a few, you can ask as many questions as you like.

For those of you who read my books and thought ‘Wow, what an imagination – I wonder what this guy is like’, here’s your chance to find out. For those of you who (wisely) thought, ‘What a lunatic!’, buy the ebook. It’s cheaper less expensive but no beer.

more beer

This offer good until I decide not to offer it any more. All disputes to be arbitrated by the firm of Hungadunga, Hungadunga, Hungadunga and McCormack. (Wait-you left out a Hungadunga! And you left out the most important one! If you know where that comes from, you probably qualify for another beer)

All patents pending, no animals were harmed in the making of this offer, side effects may include drowsiness (almost guaranteed), nausea (not the Sartre kind), lack of libido and an unexplained craving for S’mores.

Sorry, it’s just the kind of day I’m having…but I really mean it. Buy the book, I buy the beer.

You’re on your own from here…

Clarence

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Clarence Clemons never walked out in a contract dispute. He never complained to anyone (that I ever heard) about that Bruce guy’s attitude. He never told an interviewer that he didn’t need those other guys in the band. He always seemed to be enjoying the joke, enjoying that he was part of one of the great rock n’ roll bands, enjoying that he got to play.

And Bruce played it right. He always played it like he was lucky to be playing in Clarence’s band.

He was.

Losing Clarence is a shock, bigger than I expected, when I thought about the possibility in the week since his stroke. I’ve written about the Beatles before—the Beatles were everything anyone ever said they were; they keep growing and growing as time goes on. But even when they started, they were more than a group – they were like the air. So John and George left us and it never felt personal because I could never relate to them as people; they were Beatles. Clarence is the first really crucial member of a band I love to pass.

(Yes, E Street fans, Danny Federici died a few years ago and I felt sad but it didn’t shake the whole identity of the group. This does. It’s hard to see how they can be the same. Bruce is smaller without the Big Man.)

Okay, now I’m separating myself from the fanatics: I love Bruce Springsteen – think he’s one of the absolute Gods of rock n’ roll – up through ‘Jungleland.’ That’s the dividing line – the songs before and the songs after.

The songs before are a kind of myth-making I’ve never heard from anyone before or since.

‘(Hard to be) A Saint in the City’ ‘Growin’ Up’ ‘Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out’ ‘Kitty’s Back’ ‘Rosalita’ ‘Sandy (4th of July, Asbury Park)’ ‘Thunder Road’ ‘Spirit in the Night’ and ‘Jungleland.’ Those songs are absolutely unique and exhausting. They have fifteen time changes and choruses that come out of nowhere and bits of business where the band just vamps for five minutes while Bruce pretends to chat with Miami Steve or Clarence and then comes back to business just in time to make you gasp. ‘Here she comes’ becomes a song in itself after seventeen minutes of lead-in that includes everything from the Shondells to the Ventures to the Rascals and Duke Ellington (care of Roy Bittan).

And the Rascals. The thing about the early Springsteen is, he was a combination of Dylan and the Band, Van Morrison (the stops and starts, the theatricality in the songs) and the Rascals. The Rascals were the white Motown, the Broadway show tunes (Bittan and Max Weinberg were of that tradition too) and the one-hit wonders that Bruce loves. It was a crucial element, the crucial third element in his music then.

That ended with ‘Badlands.’ Bruce went another direction and Clarence spent a whole lot of the concerts shaking a tambourine or singing and that was a shame, not just for Clarence but for the band and the songs and the music, because what Clarence was in Bruce’s music was the most liberating, most thrilling part of it, the part that just let loose and let go and to hell with the consequences. It says something – and nothing good – about Springsteen’s music that Clarence had fewer parts to play while Bruce added Nils to Steve, added Patti and the violin player. Going from a tenor sax to a violin is the wrong direction, sorry.

When I got home last night and saw the headline, I heard Jungleland in my head, just Clarence’s solo, where that whole huge operatic song, that huge band sound, suddenly stops and Clarence just lets loose with that incredible solo, a Martin Scorsese movie coming out of his horn, five minutes with a building backup but all of it hanging on that horn. I’m still hearing it now in my head over the Muzak at work.

The last time I saw E Street was at a benefit concert for John Kerry in 2004. Eddie Vedder, John Fogerty, Bruce and E Street. If I ever wondered how much the love between the two men was real and how much was show biz, I got my answer that night. I was seated behind the stage – I decided to go at the last minute and those were the available seats. When the lights were all out at the end and the band was coming back up onto the stage for the encores, I see Bruce come to the top of the stairs with just that little stage light to guide him, stop, turn around and hold his hand out – to help Clarence up the steps. Nobody else. Bruce and Clarence.

We’ve lost a lot. All of us. RIP, Big Man.

Mindbenders Trailer (and Sale!)

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Mindbenders is now on sale! Ebooks only 99 cents on Amazon and Smashwords. Links below. In the meantime, here’s the video trailer, using the finest talent I could afford.

 

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