Matthew Thinks

 Matthew reviewed my book A Subtle Armageddon on Amazon. He said:

This book is one of those rare science fiction novels that stays with you long after you've finished reading. It combines imaginative world building with deep philosophical questions about humanity, technology, freedom, and what it truly means to be alive. The story unfolds at a steady pace while rewarding readers who enjoy thoughtful, idea driven science fiction rather than nonstop action. What impressed me most was how the book balances its big concepts with genuine emotion and a sense of wonder. It raises important questions without feeling preachy. Making it an enjoyable read as well as one that encourages reflection. This book is definitely worth your time if you're a fan of classic science fiction that explores the human condition.

Is Matthew right? Find out here.

Laying the money down

They're always in a hurry until it's time to lay the money down. That's an old saw of me Pops, and it holds true as much now as whenever he first said it. Yet it still amazes me that it happens, that people will hold off on paying for things which, theoretically at least, pay for their living, their food and trucks and houses and such.

For larger projects and orders, except from well established customers, we get significant down payments. Even then, with as much as half down, we'll have folks leave things hanging for weeks, or even months. Yet there are repairs which we simply do and trust that they guy will return. Generally that involves things which we can easily sell to someone else if it comes down to it.

A good example is repaired sectional drain cables. If a fella doesn't return after awhile we just sell them. I won't bore you with the details, but we can make it up to the original customer if it comes down to it. Why, I would even honor our oldest obligation on that count.

We have a man, I'll call him Cloyce just to give him a name, whom we owe six cables from 1983. We called him several times back then until the old man decided it was no longer worth his trouble. Yet if he comes in today I will give him the cables he's owed. I will even sell them to him at the price we charged back then, nine bucks a cable (they're $35 each now) just for the novelty of it. And out of an odd respect for the chutzpah it would take to try and claim them 43 years later.

Hey, it may even make good PR, right?

Woodbridge Nature

Nature is resilient. It adapts. That's the main reason why environmental issues aren't at the forefront of my worries. Yes, we should be good stewards. But Nature rules its own sphere.

Over the years in Woodbridge, my local Detroit neighborhood, I've seen wildlife come back in abundance. I've observed pheasants, hawks, rabbit, beavers, and opossum. Feral cats are everywhere; there aren't near the rats there once were, and perhaps that's why. 

In the last year there have been two deer sighted, one right by the old barn. And this very day while on my morning constitutional, I saw a wild turkey. No, not an empty bottle of the famous rotgut. A wild turkey, with a baby in tow. 

Nature rebounds, it answers all challenges. My own Detroit environs prove it.

Donations with Extreme Prejudice

A few weeks ago at Mass, I helped with the offertory collection. In one pew sat a family with a small child. She was maybe three, and her mother had given her the money to put in the collection basket. She was encouraging her daughter to put the money in the basket, not unlike we did with our kids when they were very young. It's a common thing.

So as I arrived at their pew, the little girl looked up at me, took two or three steps towards the basket as I held it towards her and - wham - absolutely slammed dunked the money into it. Then she smiled at herself. Oh yeah, I did it, I helped. I'm the girl.

It just so happened we had a second collection. The same thing happened: I approached, she toddled over, and slammed that cash right into the basket. She made absolutely certain, left no doubts at all, that SHE made the donation. She was very happy and proud to have done her part.

You gotta love that moxie.

Silent Outtakes

We, me son Charlie and I, watched the German silent film Die Nibelungen yesterday. It was very good; I'm starting to really like silents. You have to invest more in them than those talkies so many people obsess about. Silent movies make you pay attention.

Still, it can be difficult for me not to think about jokes even while viewing an engrossing film. In a scene where the lead character brandished a sword I thought, what if he had dropped it? Would we have a silent film outtake for history? Would a dialogue card have appeared which said, "Crap!"

Perhaps a couple of actors fell into laughter during a shoot. We've seen that with more recent movies, where concentration is busted and there's moments of uncontrollable laughing. Would a card pop up saying, "Aha-hahahahaha!"

I'm just wondering.

Estimating Grandparents

I remember a Grandparent's Day once at my granddaughter's school. Well, there were several over the years, but today I'm thinking about one in particular.

It was a nice day. Among other activities we attended the school Mass and had lunch in the classroom. Yet what I remember most came from the priest's sermon. He told everyone that the grandparents' role in their grandchildren's lives was not to be underestimated. That's nice to hear.

But being a grandfather though, I naturally had to make a joke of that. During lunch I reminded my granddaughter of what Father said. Then I asked her, "Know what I take from his words?"

"No," she responded curiously.

"Don't underestimate your grandparents!" I said to her sternly, with a pointed finger.

She laughed. Can you believe that?

Saying So Long

I'm never sure that I should write the type of blog I'm about to author. They become about you, and I don't really want this to be about me. I think you'll understand.

A dear friend died yesterday. Forgive me if I stay cryptic and vague, but most of you wouldn't know him anyway, and as the family has made no announcements yet I feel it's a matter of their privacy that I not get too specific. 

Still, I owe the man. He was 10 or 11 years older than me, but we'd known each other more than fifty years. Over those years we've had many good conversations, and a lot of good natured joking and jiving went on between us. Yet what I was most grateful for was in how he kept in touch with me, at least once a week, every week for better than a year, after my Dad passed. Many, many of you did too, and believe me, those kindnesses will never be forgotten, will always be treasured. Yet right this minute his are on my mind.

He didn't have to make it a point to check in. He didn't have to offer such regular support. But he did, and still did at least with some regularity, ever since. 

His passing is a genuine shock. Godspeed, you old Lutheran. Trust me, he'll laugh at that quip.