Marty's Armageddon

The first book I ever wrote to completion is A Subtle Armageddon. The following is the Amazon link, and notice you can buy a kindle version. I have my son and daughter in law to thank for that. Their work on it is very much appreciated.

A Subtle Armageddon

My inspiration is found in C. S. Lewis' The Abolition of Man. What, I wondered, would be the embodiment of a true last man on Earth, based on Lewis's conjecture that such a man would be an entirely 'made' man. But made how and of what, and by whom and for what purpose, that man himself could not know. Or could he? On that question I built my story.

I'm rather proud of Armageddon, to be honest, particularly (spoiler alert) the very last line. I fancy it the best turn of phrase I've come up with, at least so far. But if you don't understand the point of the book that quiet little sentence will surely fall flat. 

I don't know if that's the case. Yet the question which has always been at the back of my mind since I finished the thing was whether I made the point reasonably easy to see. I didn't want it to be too easy because that, in my opinion, would spoil the read. At the same time if the basic idea for writing it doesn't come through to the average reader then it may not be a good book at all, the very end notwithstanding.

And that's what troubles me. I've always been afraid that A Subtle Armageddon is somewhat obscure. I'm not sure that the reader will get the point. But if you're game to try, it's free through Kindle Unlimited, and I would love to hear your opinion. 

Moving On

Today's missive is courtesy of the Department of Trivial yet Interesting Information to Baseball Fans.

Baseball fans know that teams have sometimes changed cities. At least three have moved twice (one of them, uh, thrice): the Braves, Athletics, and Orioles. The Braves were in Boston, Milwaukee, and currently Atlanta; the Athletics Philadelphia, Kansas City, Oakland, and next, supposedly, Las Vegas. The Orioles began in Milwaukee, ventured to St. Louis, and call Baltimore home these days. There are other instances of franchises finding new locales as well. But does anyone know about the teams who nearly abandoned their original home towns?

Cleveland seriously looked at relocating to Minneapolis in the 1950s. The St. Louis Browns were all set to move to Los Angeles for the 1942 season, but World War II and its travel restrictions got in the way. The St. Louis Cardinals nearly moved to Houston, but the Busch family and beer money saved them (and forced the Browns to move to Baltimore in 1953). It's all trivial yet interesting stuff to baseball wonks.

But what always gives me the opportunity to wipe my forehead and say, "Phew! That was a close one," is that the American League almost moved my beloved Detroit Tigers to Pittsburgh in the early 1900s, to compete directly with the National League's Pirates. Detroit was the smallest city in the AL at the time and the Powers that Be questioned whether it could support major league baseball. Thankfully that move did not happen. And we showed 'em that Detroit is a worthy baseball town, didn't we, Tiger fans?

Out Of The Loop

The things you learn as time goes by.

I had to take a car to a mechanic due to overheating issues. At one time I would have attacked the problem myself. I mean, the possible troubles are few (I did mess around with it a bit): radiator (which appeared all right) hoses (which showed no breaks or leaks) cooling fan (which seemed to work) and thermostat. Yet with all the additional hoses and valves and sensors which vehicles are mobbed with these days, I felt better taking it to an expert.

I'm glad I did. Did you know that 2010 Jeeps have not one but two thermostats? I'd have never guessed that. I would have determined where the one I expected was likely to be and not given a thought to finding another. To be sure, I might have tried You Tube videos (which have helped me diagnose and repair other problems on other stuff) but how long might that take? It's simpler to take it to a mechanic.

I suppose the complications make cars better. Still, it's a bit sad that Shade Tree Marty is out of a job.

Trouble Comes Calling

I sell drain cleaning machines. As such, every now and then a guy will come into the old barn and ask me - me - for advice on the subject. Imagine that.

The other day a plumber came by and asked for my thoughts on trying to use a steel cable drain snake which was 1-1/4 inches in diameter in a pipe which was 1-1/2 inches wide. Further, said pipe had two 90 degree turns in it. Someone with no plumbing or drain cleaning experience at all can surely see there isn't anywhere near enough clearance for that to work out well.

What did I think, he asked.

I think that you're not only asking for trouble, but laying out the welcome mat and insisting it stay for dinner. Get a smaller machine with a smaller cable. 

But that's just me. I do think I talked him out of it, though.

Bereft of Hope

Some days I truly believe in humanity. Then reality kicks in.

The other day I was waiting in the drive through lane for my order. In front of me, not one, but two cars were so far away from the pickup window that the drivers had to step out the door to grab their food. This despite their windows being open. I point that out to show there was a problem with them. The drivers were simply too far back.

Some days I truly believe. But today I believe that people are stupid.

The Old Ball Game

We, myself, me Pops, and me Grandpa Joe, all lived within two blocks of the Shop, the old barn where we worked when we weren't telling tall tales. It wasn't unusual for any one of us to head home for this or that reason during the work day.

Joe left for his house on some errand early one afternoon. About ten minutes later, the phone rang. "Bill, I think Joe's collapsed out on Hancock street," a worried neighbor told him.

Dad bolted from the Shop. He was quickly on Hancock, but could see from well back it wasn't his father laying along the curb. Still, whoever it was ought to be checked. Me Pops went up to him. 

The man on the ground was face up, staring into the clouds. "You okay, fella?" Dad asked him.

"Oh yeah. I'm just watching the ball game," the guy answered. 

"Ah. Well, who's winning?" Me Pops returned.

"I don't know. I just got to my seat." About then an ambulance pulled up. Apparently Anxious Neighbor had, rightly, already called one. Dad had done his duty, so he stepped back for the EMTs to do theirs.

If It Suited Joe

I do wonder sometimes whether we are fashion conscious enough. Yeah, I know. Sounds real weird coming from me. But still, I wonder.

When me Pops took me to my first baseball game at old Tiger Stadium in Detroit, he wore a suit and tie. One of the times I noticed me Grandpa Joe wear a suit coat was when he did his weekly banking. That's right, he cleaned up and put on a coat and tie to go to the bank. Meanwhile, although I wore a suit and tie to the funerals of both my parents, I didn't to the viewings the night before. I had my reasons; with Mom, there was one particular pullover shirt of mine which she without fail would compliment when I had it on. So I wore that to the funeral home.

What do we wear suits for these days? You don't see them at Church, or, at least, I don't. In offices, yes, although that doesn't appear as universal as it once was. News shows, yes. But by and large, men don't wear suitcoats. 

I'm no longer sure that such relaxation is an improvement in style. After all, when Joe Cosgriff would dress up just to put money in his bank account, I do wonder if he had a better idea of proper dress than we seem to have these days.