Interview with Sailor Jim Johnston
by Jon Jordan

Scene:  a table in Callahan's Bar . . .

"Excuse me ... are you Jim Johnston?"

Sailor Jim looks up from where he'd been sitting, quietly reading a paperback and – from time to time – typing out an idea or two on his laptop. "From time to time, although I prefer to go by my nom-de-web in here. And you are?"

"I'm Jon from Books 'n' Bytes, here for your interview."

"Oh, excellent. Please have a seat, make yourself at home. Something to drink?" After arranging for a round of drinks, SJ expansively spreads his hands out and says, "Okay, then ... where do you want to start?"

The younger man sets a tape recorder on the table and starts it recording. "Well, I think it's safe to say you've been around and seen a few things in your time here on the blue marble. What led you to decide to start sharing these adventures with others?"

"Cheap therapy," SJ immediately replies with a chuckle. “Well, partially, at any rate. The truth is that I've always been storyteller and, when I stumbled into this place by accident (and seeing that they appreciated a good yarn in here), decided to try my luck writing them out. Fortunately, the crowd here at alt.callahans liked my stories (either proving that they have superior taste, or that they all experimented with drugs in their youth) well enough to ask for more. After a few million words, a bunch of them got together and decided they wanted to sacrifice a tree or two and print my bits of silliness on paper. Go figure."

"What was the publishing process like?"

"A little like being the guest of honor at the Spanish Inquisition and a little like being worshiped. I wasn't in favor of having my stuff published, at first . . . frankly, it made more sense to me to simply print it all off the web for free, find a three-hole punch, and save it in an old binder. However, a young lady named Larisa Migachyov decided to take my bull by the horns and convinced me to go along with having my stuff published on dead trees. After several of the gang here scrapped up the money to have her parents, (who own and operate Quaternion Press Publishing House, by the way) publish it, I put together a basic manuscript and sent it in."

“Were there any strange editing happenings?”

“Ah, hell ... editing *is* a strange happening, Jon! I swear on a stack of Bibles that I really intended to simply hand over the basic manuscript and let the editor – Larisa – make whatever changes she wanted. No problem; no argument; no hair offa my chin ... then the red pen actually made contact with the paper and – with Jobs as my witness – I could actually hear my manuscript scream in pain! I ended up fighting over every paragraph, word, and comma. In all honesty, it's a testament to Larisa's patience that the silly thing actually made it to the printers at all."

"I looked over your web site and noticed that you claim some very interesting jobs. Superhero, for instance? I think maybe this would be a interesting area to explore."

SJ looks slightly abashed and sighs. "Geez, you’d have ta pick that one. Okay, then ... simply put, I spent a few weeks, along side a shipmate of mine, running around the night shadows of Golden Gate Park in San Francisco, dressed in a ski mask and sweats, breaking up a few muggings and assaults."

Seeing the incredulous look on the interviewer's face, Sailor Jim raises his right hand. "No, really! Swear to Groucho! You gotta understand that it was the '70's, kung fu movies were the craze, and we were two young idiots, who both studied martial arts and had waaaaaaay to much time on our hands. We were looking for a thrill and .. Well, it just seemed the thing to do, y'know? We did a little good, got a little nice press, and then my shipmate got his spine shattered when we tried to bust up a gang thing. I managed to get him to a hospital and we somehow convinced his command that he'd been a victim of a hit and run
driver." SJ shrugs. "Not the proudest moment of my life, but - and I hate to admit *this* - not the stupidest, either."

"Riiiiiight ... um, you also used to work at a university library. I've heard professors say the only thing wrong with college is all the students. Did you have any especially strange run-ins with students?"

"Not especially ... no." SJ takes a sip of his drink and adds, "Well, there was the guy who was so outraged that the library was a federal depository that he physically attacked the federal publications up on the third floor, knocking them to the floor and urinating on them. And the co-ed who was turning tricks in the evenings between the philosophy journal shelves ... an area so unpopular that she managed to keep it going to almost six months before anyone caught her (and that was only due to the deplorable condition of the carpet back there). I suppose the occasional fraternity or sorority pledge who had to walk around naked in the library as a dare might count, or all the students who tried to have pizza delivered or carried huge picnic baskets of food past the 'No food or drink' signs might, or the occasional beer bash on the fourth floor, or the ... hmm.”

"Actually, now that you mention it, the only *especially strange* run-ins with students would have to be the one or two I found who’d actually came to the library to study."

“So, I have to admit to being a person who never went to the library to study when I was in college. I was usually on the prowl. Is it strange working at a college? I remember (most of it) being very surreal.”

“I used to think of it as being Gopher on the Love Boat ... you're one of the people who keeps everything running, while the weekly guests have a great time and get all the air time.

"I don't think it was real enough to register as surreal, more like a really piss-ass fantasy. Y'know, bad Taco Bell induced dream stuff. The hardest part of working there was having to take it seriously enough to keep from being fired.

(Now I know how the guy in the Goofy suit at Disneyland must feel)”

"When do you do your writing? Do you write everyday?"

"Well, originally, I wrote while at work, just to have something to do. Not that I advocate that sort of thing, but I was in a position that could be handled by a slightly retarded monkey on drugs, around an hour worth of work a day, and this immediately following a 20 plus year career in the military. Frankly, I was was bored outta my skull. Writing gave me something
to do that kept me sane, at my desk, and looking busy.

"With my current job (working for a undisclosed agency for the state of Louisiana as a analyst) being a lot more challenging, I now do almost all of my writing after hours, at home. (Well, except for when an idea occurs to me at work ... you know how it is. When it happens, it happens.)

"Which pretty much sums up my writing schedule as well. It happens when it happens. I try to put in time every day, but I'm a streak writer. When it isn't time, nothing good comes out regardless of how hard I try ... so I keep my laptop nearby and, when the lightening strikes, do my best to ride out the storm."

"So what kind of things do you do with your free time? And can you in fact talk about?" :)

"Free time? (Laugh) What a concept. When is personal time ever free? Seems to me it is the single most precious thing each of us has and we pay dearly for it.

"Ever since her disability flared up, I spend all my time with my wife, Dian. She was my best friend for years before we got married and I'm happy to report that we'd both rather hang around each other than anywhere else on the planet. I even work out in her sewing room so we can talk while I exercise.

"Although, truth be know, lately I'm more likely to be on her computer while she sews. I am currently engrossed with a silly ass computer game, 'Diablo II', which she finds hilarious. Y'see, I've got too much imagination for my own good and tend to vocalize for my computer characters. This is enough to set her to laughing, but I'm also convinced that I can use combat theory and techniques to defeat this game, and she almost falls out of her wheelchair when I start losing. It's fun for her and I'm about to have a stroke, so we both benefits, right?

"Other times, we sit and read together, or go shopping, or to the movies, but - mostly - we like to spend time 'at the zoo.'

"Once upon a time, that phrase meant exactly that; we'd go to the zoo and spend the day watching the antics of all the critters. Then, one day, we realized that we'd both started watching the critters less and, instead, had started watching the people watching the critters more.

"After we compared notes, we came to the obvious observation that people were the funniest critters on the planet and that 'the zoo' really started just on the other side of our own front door.

"Oh, we still go to actual zoos from time to time (Baton Rouge has a nice zoo, but New Orleans has Audubon Zoo, which is realllllly nice!), but we find a lot more pure pleasure in simply finding a comfortable spot and watching the antics of our fellow humans. Endlessly funny and totally free entertainment.

"(Also endless inspiration for characters.)"

"So, getting back to your book. Are all the stories in it based on actual events?"

"Yup, pretty much. Oh, I've taken the opportunity to rewrite history a bit, give it a better ending or added a punch-line or two ... one of the reasons I never went into journalism was the fact that reality never really quite works out the way it should.

"(God might be all things to all men, but he's a terrible writer.)"

"Is it possible for one man to have such strange things happen to and around him, or is that proof of your story telling ability?"

"Um ... yes?

"Actually, that's the only real answer to that question. Yes, strange things seem to just manifest themselves around me and, yes, it's also proof of my ability to spin a yarn.

"It really wouldn't matter if I was the lone witness to a UFO crash if I couldn't wrote about it well, nor would it matter if I had a PhD in creative writing if nothing ever happened to write about. I just lucked out and have managed to combine a weird life with a flare for writing.

"The fact that I spent so many years in the military helps, as does the fact that those years were between '74 and '94, when the country was going through several bizarre fads and changes.

"As a result, for instance, I was part of the crew that busted the major of San Francisco's son when he threw his 18th birthday party on the giant buoy that is anchored a few hundred yards outside of the Golden Gate Bridge. (The silly sod had tables with finger food set up, a wet bar, and a disco combo. Here we come steaming out in response to the buoys hatch alarm being tripped and and here's all these kids dancing on the damn buoy! It turns out that the alarm was tripped by some rich drunk teenage girl looking for the john.)

"I met Jimmy Carter when he was running for office (and actually told him that, as far as I was concerned, what was good for Jif was good for America) and later served as a military assistant/driver to the guy who threw the Inaugural Balls for Ronald Reagan when he was first elected (during one of the parties, Johnny Carson, just mingling, spotted me in my dress blues and told the filthiest joke about sailors I'd ever heard ... wish I could remember it).

"I've seen things and done things that most people only dream about, but - then - I've also had to do things and have had things done to me that most people only have nightmares about. It balances out."

"So, What's the one thing always in your refrigerator?"

"Condiments, I suppose. Well, condiments and ice, were we to include the freezer. I'm afraid Dian and I tend to shop on a daily basis, buying whatever we want to prepare for dinner an hour or two before dinner.

"We generally only keep staples in the house (canned goods, three kinds of flour, salt, sugar, dried goods; stuff one usually finds in cupboards) and buy everything else fresh as we need it.

"Except for beverages, that is. We do usually have iced tea or Diet Coke in the fridge, sometimes both.

"(Boring, huh?)"