...if you can say 'happy,' after all the sacrifices and time, energy and resources spent on our behalf by America's troops. Past, present and future. I'd rather say 'grateful'... because I am. THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE.
Our flag is out -- hopefully yours is, too.
* * * * * * *
If you've served in the military, there are all sorts of Veterans' Day discounts, free meals, and freebies that you can take advantage of, including (depending on where you live) free carwashes and haircuts. Most are today (Nov. 11), but some are being honored tomorrow (Nov. 12), instead. The list of restaurants offering special meals is particularly long and varied. If you're a vet, this is a perfect time to save money -- and show your family a good time.
The Brick (6 years in the Navy) and I will head to Golden Corral tomorrow night (5-9 p.m.), to get his meal. We also have a good time talking to the many other military men and women who attend. That's even better than the food.
Need a lift on this Friday-after-the-election? I've been collecting odd stuff ever since the trip to Michigan. Strange coincidences happen... sometimes they're funny, sometimes frightening. But often, they're just funny.
The Book. As you know, if you hang out here, I have a new book just out: Ghosts & Legends of Colorado's Front Range. It's doing very well, by the way -- the second printing is almost sold out. It's only been a month!
The strangest thing happens, once I type the final words -- that piece of writing becomes the 'other Cindy Brick's' work, not mine. If someone praises it, great. If they ridicule it (which happens more than you think), it doesn't bother me as much.
The Brick knows I feel this way, and thinks it's hilarious. He is also the primary photographer for The Book. After we got copies in at the Brickworks offices, he looked one over carefully. Then he announced that the 'other David Brick' did a good job! (I just snickered.) Other book-related items: *I'm at one of the local Costcos. The table, for this pre-Halloween book signing, features a skeleton tablecover, orange skull cups, candy corn lights and a pumpkin. So what's behind me? Boxes of ceramic Christmas villages that automatically belt out carols whenever anyone walks by, or picks up a box. Talk about surreal.
See the red boxes on the right? Voila.
*While I was signing books at another Costco, a passerby told me about his experience on Riverdale Road. This winding road is up in Thornton, north of Denver, and said to be extremely haunted. (Yes, it's in The Book.) This guy took a skeptical friend with him for a drive. Along the way: *they saw ghosts trudging along the shoulder *a column of swirling smoke suddenly appeared in the middle of the road *someone (or something) left a child-sized handprint on the outside of the back window *that same whatever-it-was said "Hi" to the passenger in the backseat.
"This really happened to you?" I said. He nodded -- and said that his friend was no longer a skeptic. Figures. *The Brick says I must be a 'ghostwriter,' now The Book's out. When we lived in Ann Arbor, MI during college days, a local bookstore displayed remainders out front on big tables. We often stopped there, looking for bargains. (Hollander instinct.) One day, the Brick was pawing through the books when he noticed a man standing there, looking at passersby strangely. Since there were all sorts of mentally-challenged people in Ann Arbor to begin with, he didn't think much about it.
A dog was sitting nearby, tied up with a leash. It wasn't growling or even looking interested in the people around it -- just waiting for its owner to return.
Someone started to go into the bookstore. Strange Guy said, out of the corner of his mouth:
"That dog's gonna bite you."
Would-be customer looked startled. Strange Guy gazed up at the heavens, as if nothing had happened. Dog was snoozing in the sunshine.
Next person, same thing -- "That dog's gonna bite you."
This went on for half an hour, with Strange Guy (and the dog) totally innocent. But the Brick was having trouble not laughing out loud each time SG made his little announcement.
Why am I telling you this? Because now the Brick occasionally says to me, eyes looking elsewhere: "That ghost is gonna bite you."
(Update: he was dead last in the vote results. Guess Mom had better get out there and earn more cash.) Tony Joe White died recently. You may not recognize his name, but this "swamp rock" musician wrote one of the Brick's favorite songs to tease me with: 'Poke Salad Annie.'
Owen mused that "I'm already sort of seeing how they're gonna be as teenagers, where they're gonna be sort of ganging up on me." "[Some years ago] we went to Sequoia National Park, and they have the biggest tree in the world. I'm like: 'Guys, this is the biggest tree in the world,' and Ford's like: 'I've seen bigger.' And I'm like 'Well, no, Ford, actually you haven't seen bigger. This is -- this is the General Sherman tree. This is the biggest tree.' And he's like: 'If you say so.' And I'm like: 'No, it's not if I say so! There's the plaque right here!' And he's like: 'I can't read.'
Some airport stories, from the recent trip: *A large bag of apples is in my carry-on bag. (More in the suitcase. Hey, Michigan has the best apples!) Going through security at the Grand Rapids airport, the guy asks me if I have apples. (Does everybody, this time of year?) Then he asks me to send them through separately. When I ask why, he responds: "Because they're too round... and freak the x-ray people out."
I'm still puzzled. They look like hand grenades? Bombs? Apples? *I have a psychic experience in Chicago's O'Hare airport. Supper in the foodcourt. I'm having a Chicago dog, naturally. They're wonderful.
A lady comes up and asks if she can use the plug-in to recharge her phone. She asks me all sorts of questions: where I'm from, where I was at, why I was there, etc. etc. Before I can respond, she supplies the 'answer' each time. She's 100% wrong.
After this barrage, I politely ask where she's going. Las Vegas, she says, to do some gambling and take a vacation with her daughters. She then hands me her business card:
The Psychic Boutique.
"I hope you can guess better there than you did here," I find myself muttering.
A member of our family died at the hospice center Monday night, after a short but brave fight with cancer. She was far too young to go through this: 61. (As if it's fair to anyone...)
Now you can rest, Christine. Your family will never forget you.
I've been working on a lot of reports. Slowly catching up. Dreary days around here, for the most part, with threats of rain and snow. The moisture is heartening, but bare ground, clouds and leafless trees do not combine for cheeriness. How do you do it, Midwestern states?? We're taking Charley to the vet -- he's been limping. We had thought it was hip disease -- a lot of big dog breeds struggle with this. But just in the past few days, it occurred to the Brick that Sir Charles might have dislocated his hip, instead. We'll find out this afternoon.
Voters care about campaign promises. If you don't fulfill your campaign promises, it turns out they notice, they remember, and they don't care for it. In 2016, Republicans in Congress promised to, I don't know, build a wall, get rid of Obamacare, de-fund Planned Parenthood. They got elected on those promises. They didn't do any of them once they got elected. Maybe that's one reason they lost the House last night..
For them [the voters] and for many others, the economy is not measured in stock prices and GDP numbers. Their concerns are tangible concerns. What does gas cost? Can I afford to live in a safe neighborhood? Will I go bankrupt if I get sick?
These are real questions for tens of millions of people. The party that effectively addresses these questions generally wins elections.
Whether or not you agree with his conservative opinions, Carlson has an excellent point. (He's got some interesting comments on the Acosta Affair, too.)
We have something every day this week but Friday...in fact, several somethings on most days. The Brick is recovering from a nasty flu -- short-lived, fortunately. I've been flirting with it myself. Outside is especially dreary for Colorado, which is usually lovely -- most of the trees are stripped bare, with only a few faded leaves hanging on. Some rain, some snow. Typical November. If you're in the Denver area, come on over to the Philip S. Miller Library in Castle Rock Thursday night, Nov. 8 -- I'll be telling stories from my book, Ghosts & Legends of Colorado's Front Range, for the Castle Rock Historical Society. The fun starts at 7 p.m.
Before I get to the rest, don't forget: Please vote on Tuesday!! It's really important. Professor Blasey-Ford garnered more than $800,000 in donations after she testified during the Brett Kavanaugh hearings. And what's she doing with all that money? Keeping it, naturally. (Her reps say she'll donate a little, but are surprisingly quiet about the rest.) Judge Kavanaugh got nearly $600,000 in donations during the same period. What's he doing with the money? Giving it away -- because keeping it would be wrong, his reps say, particularly for a judge. No doubt he had legal and security expenses, just like Professor Ford -- but he's paying those himself. Hmmmm.
It's been yet another strange week in a series of strange weeks.
We've had some snow. Spent a night at a hospice center in Denver. (I'll explain this soon.) The Brick has picked up some sort of weird flu. And I keep working, business-wise. The Book continues to do well. I keep slogging away at appraisal commitments. Life goes on. We've had several twists and turns we didn't see coming -- some we were able to fix, some we just deal with.
So... Am I giving up? Far from it. I'm making progress. Sure, it's coming slower than I planned -- or hoped. But it's happening. Next week: something going nearly every day. But I'll deal with it as it comes. Welcome, November.
A 14-year-old fiddler leaves his companions in the dust...so to speak. By the way, the song is the 'Orange Blossom Special,' performed by the Kempters.
