David Gets Complimented

I typically avoid politics. Honestly ... I haven't watched the news in three years. I don't even know why I chose this book. But I'm glad I did. The characters were believable, and the discussions thought-provoking, pensive and entertaining. I could see a TV series in the future. Write-on Charles.

Well, thank you Rick on Amazon. I am very pleased with your review of my book David Gideon. It isn't really supposed to be about politics but, rather, David becoming President is merely the hook. On that basis, it does offer a forum for raising questions and having discussions about this issue or that, whether within the circle of family and friends or in the larger society. I don't want readers to get hung up on his Presidency. I want them to see the man, and the woman behind him. David may not be the actual hero, you know. 

Write-on Charles. I like that turn of phrase. And a TV show? Well, I hadn't given it that much thought. But man, what a compliment!

A fella is naturally apprehensive in putting his writing out for public consumption. I mean, this blog, The Sublime to the Ridiculous, is exactly that. Just froth by and large. To put the kind of effort I've put into my books and have folks rave about them like Rick, wow. A guy feels as though he can write well enough, but it's the readers who actually can tell him whether he in fact does. I feel good reading such reviews. It really does make one feel humble too, if it isn't too bizarre to be humble and ecstatic at the same time. 

The characters are believable and the story is entertaining. Thought provoking and pensive. To hear that from a man I'll never know, wow. Just wow.

And after all that attempt at humility, now I've got to be a shill for the book: David Gideon

Thanks for reading this, and thank you for all the support and encouragement you've given me.

The Green Monster

Being St. Patrick's Day, for obvious reasons I fished through my clothes this morning to find something green. I came across my 'Green Monster' t-shirt which I bought while at Fenway Park in Boston in 2016. And that leads me to what I want to say to you today: at times I'm slow on the uptake.

Fenway Park features a 37 foot wall in left field. It is painted green. As such, for years Red Sox fans have affectionately referred to it as the Green Monster. Are you with me so far? Good.

Anyway, sports teams tend to have mascots, and Boston is no different. Traipsing around the stands and on the field during the pre-game and between innings and what not was a costumed, human sized figure in a Red Sox uniform. He looked like a full sized Elmo or Cookie Monster, the Sesame Street characters. But rather than red or blue, he was made of up green shag carpet. And I could not figure out who or what he was supposed to be.

Until about the fourth inning, when it finally dawned on me. He was the Green Monster.

At times I really need things explained to me. At least it gave me green to wear on St. Patrick's Day though. 

What's Wrong With Great Grandpa James?

When me Grandpa Joe was young a trip into town was still an event. It was horse and buggy days in west central Illinois where he was raised, so hitching up the wagon was enough of a chore that you only did it for serious shopping excursions for serious business.

One such seriousness involved candy. Great Grandma Mary would, among her other and arguably more important purchases, buy candy for her kids as a treat. Her youngest, me Grandpa Joe, remembered those gifts fondly. Yet one aspect of it confused the then young boy.

Once home, his mother would offer the candy to everyone. The six children would take their share with delight. Great Grandpa James would, however, always decline the chance to delve into the sugary treats. Grandpa Joe recalled that he would think, "What's the matter with that old man, not taking candy?"

I think most of us thought that way as kids under such circumstances.

All Wrong

When me Pops was trying to get his drain snake repair business off the ground he was willing to go above and beyond the call of duty, to show customers he was serious and, hopefully, have good word spread around fishing for more. But you better not have taken advantage of that.

One former customer, I'll call him Cloyce just to give him a name, called around 8:30 on a Saturday night asking if Dad could meet him at 8 Sunday morning for a machine repair. Pops reluctantly said yes. As I said, he was trying to get set up and wanted to show goodwill and effort.

Dad was at the old barn at 7:45. Cloyce wasn't there at 8.

Or 8:15.

Or 8:30.

When he still wasn't there by 8:45 Dad went home. At the time he liked to go to 9:30 Sunday Mass at old St. Dominic and needed time to get ready.

At 9 there was a loud knocking at the front door of the house. It was Cloyce, demanding, "Where you been Bill? I been waiting at your Shop for an hour!" 

Now, me Pops was generally mild mannered. But Cloyce went and said the wrong thing to the wrong man at the wrong time. The old man let him have it. 

And now you know why I said former customer a few lines back.

Good Customer

A fella appreciates honesty. It can renew faith in humanity.

It was a zoo yesterday at the old barn. It was particularly hectic between around 10 until Noon, where literally one customer after another (and three at a time twice) waited, all of them patiently to their credit, for service. I haven't had a run of business like that in quite a long while. 

One customer returned 15 minutes or so after I had done a quick fix on his snake. My first thought was a lament: "What's wrong? Did I not do the job right? Rats. I don't need this right now."

But that wasn't it. "Hey Cosgriff! I forgot to pay you," he said upon opening the Shop door.

I didn't realize he hadn't. It completely slipped my mind. Things were so hectic that as soon as I finished his job I had simply thanked him, and he me, and left without either of us thinking about the money aspect. All was totally incidental on both of us. 

I would likely had never given it a second thought. I'd have assumed he paid. He's a long time customer and completely trustworthy, as he proved by returning. 

Work was a mess yesterday. Yet that one bright spot made it all worthwhile. 

My Two Cents Worth

Who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks? Why, I've become adept enough that I monitor my banking activity online, thank you very much. I've even learned to get comfortable with and use the ATM in the lobby of my bank. I make deposits and withdrawals all by my lonesome. It's what the bank wants, to not deal with Marty directly. Likely enough most folks don't want to deal with me. Beat you to the punch, Ron.

But technology is not without its issues, and I had one yesterday while banking. The first machine failed to work properly. It wasn't my fault, the bank employees assured me. They'd been having trouble with that particular ATM all day. Moving to the next machine, everything worked fine.

But in checking my bank account online this morning I noticed an unexpected deposit for, I am not making this up, two cents. Yes, two Lincoln coppers. Two entire pennies. The explanation was that it was an interest payment, an apology of sorts, for my trouble with that first ATM. 

So you ain't gotta worry about Marty's two cents no more. It's laying right in the bank. But if you upset me enough I may still give it to you anyway.

Rain, I Don't Mind

Yesterday I did something I've never done before. I let rain stop me from driving. Well, more specifically, I allowed a little voice to convince me that I should stop.

I was on my way home from a short road trip and could see the ominous clouds grow on the horizon. They meant business. Between they and I was a travel center. Pull into that truck stop, the voice said. Wait out the rain.

So I did as told. There was an IHOP, so breakfast called as well. Right as a country omelet was placed before me it commenced to pour outside, the proverbial sheets. Most likely flannel, the rain was so heavy. I ate, and knew that I had also avoided a terrible fate, or at least bad trouble.

How could I know that? How do you prove a negative? Nothing bad happened, really by definition. I was safe, fat, and happy watching the rain from my booth.

I knew because the cautionary voice told me. It pays to listen.