Today is January 30th and I’m going to try and sneak in another blahg before the end of the month and no, before you ask, I have not finished writing “HOW ABOUT YOU, DELBERT ROBINSON?” I’ve stalled on that story but then again I’ve picked up on stories sometimes a year and half later or even ten years later. I’ll get there eventually. When I was driving to work today, I glanced at the temperature display and saw it was -21c and that converts to -5.8 Fahrenheit or, in other words, it’s damn cold out there. I don’t usually dream about warmer climates at this time of the year but I like to listen to some music that warms the soul. This blahg is going to offer up some music that always takes my mind off the cold. I hope it does it for you, too.
First, let me show you a video I filmed three days ago that shows you what it looks like in my neck of the woods:
I was also suffering from a headache that afternoon, which was worse the next day. I took the 28th off and slept and stayed warm. I was back at work yesterday and today and I’ll tell you it’s hard to get motivated when it’s this cold. In my bathroom, I have an old iPhone I’ve converted to a music player and listen to it when I’m showering and shaving in the morning. I keep everything on shuffle so you never know what you’re going to hear. This morning, in the rotation, I heard two great songs from Bing Crosby that made my mood better. One was from the album, “Bing With A Beat” that also featured the great Bob Scobey and his band. I mentioned this album in a blahg I did about Bob Scobey with the title WHAT ON EARTH IS SCOBEYFAN? I’m going to offer up two peppy songs from this great record. The first is “Last Night On The Back Porch.” It’s a swinger.
Another great song from this album that will get your feet tapping is “Mama Loves Papa:”
I mentioned that I heard two songs on my iPhone from Bing. The second was from the album “Fancy Meeting You Here” that he recorded with Rosemary Clooney. Here’s the title track:
Another great song from this album, and a rocker, is “You Came a Long Way from St. Louis”:
Both of these albums are available on CD and probably as digital purchases. Before I move off of Bing, I’ve been thinking about the song “June In January.” Oh, wouldn’t that be nice. Here’s a video someone posted of that song. Here’s the description: “Bing Crosby duets on “June in January” with…Bing Crosby in this clip from Here Is My Heart (1934). Bing also sings the song as the film’s opening number.”
I started to think about the topic of warming songs on my drive in this morning. One of the songs I thought of was “I Was Made For Sunny Days” by The Weepies. I used to hear this song a lot playing in the background when I was shopping at a local thrift store. I always found it infectious and would always sing along. Instead of offering the recorded version, I thought I would post a live version. Here are The Weepies (Deb Talan, Steve Tannen, Jon Flaugher) performing “I Was Made for Sunny Days” on a beautiful summer evening at the Britt Festival, Southern Oregon – August 23, 2011.
Of course, if I’m talking about The Weepies and songs to get you moving, I’d also have to offer up “Be My Thrill.” Later live versions of this song had The Weepies performing it as a slowed down ballad version. Both are wonderful but the original album version will get your blood pumping:
If you’ve read any of my previous blahgs (and if you haven’t then get going on that) then you’ll know I’m not a fan of most modern music. Now that The Weepies have divorced and broken up, I’ve turned to listening to Scott Mulvahill. I talked about seeing him live in Toronto and getting the picture below, taken with him. You can check that out in my blahg, ANOTHER CLASS ACT.
One of Scott M’s most infectious songs, to me, has to be “Joy.” The music video makes you want to sing along or dance along or something along…your choice.
I recently came across a version of this song that Scott actually performed on a January date. This is “Joy” from Paste Studio ATL – Atlanta, GA, on January 22, 2020:
Another song by Scott Mulvahill that I enjoy is from a video where he performed “Never Going Back Again” with the duo Striking Matches. I don’t know if it appears on an album anywhere but the video is a great distraction on a cold day.
Jumping back to some older music, I want to post something from a recent album I received as a late Christmas present. In a previous blahg, ANOTHER BAKER’S DOZEN MORE FOUND VINYL RECORDS I mentioned that I was hoping to acquire the album, “The Music Man Goes Dixieland” by Jimmy McPartland and his All Stars. Well, my wife ordered a copy for me for Christmas but it arrived later. Still, it’s a great record and I really enjoy Jimmy’s vocal on “Ya Got Trouble”:
The first track on the album is one of the jazziest songs. It’s “Seventy-Six Trombones.” Unfortunately I couldn’t find a video of just that song but there is a video on YouTube of the full album and I’ll link it below to start at that particular track (I hope):
I have also been listening to a lot of Pat Suzuki lately. I had a few songs on my iPhone already but I was recently reading about a 2018 release of the Complete Album Series that comprises all of the tracks from her four albums, “The Many Sides of Pat Suzuki,” “Miss Pony Tail,” “Pat Suzuki’s Broadway ’59,” and “Looking at You.” Here’s the information about the release: https://www.stagedoorrecords.com/patsuzuki.html. There are a couple of extra tracks from the Broadway Cast album of Flower Drum Song. There is also another CD release of Pat Suzuki Singles and Rarities. I really enjoy her singing and it’s hard to select a single favourite. “From This Moment On” from her first album, “The Many Sides of Pat Suzuki”, is well worth a listen.
If you want to see a live performance of Pat Suzuki, check her out on this 1958 Frank Sinatra Show clip. Again, it’s the full show but I’m trying to set the video start where she comes in.
I’m going to close out this blahg with something more modern, although the band I’m going to feature broke up in 2013. I’m a huge fan of the Canadian band Great Big Sea and they had some very lively songs. If you can’t warm up listening to one of their songs then you’re not listening close enough. The following video is for their song, “Shine.” One of the comments posted about the video sums it up: “Who can’t hear GBS sing without smiling?” Go ahead and smile!
The last video is also from Great Big Sea. It’s “When I Am King.” It’s an uplifting and positive song.
If you can’t smile after any of these songs then wait a few days until February 2nd and maybe the groundhog will have good news about spring. We live in hope!
I’m going to break my own record in this blahg. I posted the 2026 False Ducks New Year’s Day Video Ramble on January 1st of this year and I’m going to start unpacking it today. Last year, I posted the 2025 Ramble on January 2nd and then didn’t get around to breaking it down until March 13th. Well, I’m two months ahead of the game, being only January 11th today. It might take me a few days to get this finished and published but it should still be up officially in the same month as the 2026 ramble. Well, that’s enough of that ramble for now. Let’s get to it.
In case you didn’t view the 2026 False Ducks New Year’s Day Video Ramble, here it is:
Again, I should stress that it’s chocolate on my upper lip in the video and not a scab or some sort of post holidays sore. I watched the video again and made note of some things I mentioned in the Ramble and added some things I wanted to discuss but forgot about. Here’s my list of things I want to unpack:
Polar dip didn’t happen
Keys of hiram crenshaw
Pocket pal’s guide to murder
the soda machine
The private investigator of earth
The two and ten Christmas gift exchange
Delbert Robertson
William Morrison short stories sf
100 1939 films
Daryl Brock
Barbara Villy Cormack – Local Rag
Hans Conreid Book
Christmas tree launch
Fell out of the bathtub
Politics: Trump, Ford, Polievre, Carney
See the kids
Write more stories.
Mention Paul McCartney Concert
Renovations and photo of Zoey on new flooring
Expand my funkos
New funko sodas
Digging out inflatables
Let’s start with the Polar Dip that didn’t happen. We had 7 inches of snow New Year’s Eve. In the past when I’ve done the Dip, I’ve driven out to North Beach here in beautiful Prince Edward County. Unfortunately, North Beach is a day use only Provincial Park that is closed in the winter. We have to park on the road that leads to the entrance of the park, walk around the gate (low security because everyone does it) and then walk about half a kilometre out to the beach area. My wife didn’t want to walk through that half kilometre of snow so she suggested we go to the beach in Wellington, Ontario as we can drive right up to the beach front. I went swimming a few times there this year. Here’s a photo of me in the water on October 4th of last year:
Unfortunately that’s not how the beach and water looked on January 1st of this year. Here’s the video that show’s why the 2026 Polar Dip didn’t happen:
Oh well, I’ll try again in 2027.
I wrote 21 blahgs in 2025. It’s probably not a record for me but it was one more than 2024 when I wrote 20 blahgs. Sometimes the blahgs were a means to an end. If I had written a new short story, I would debut it in a blahg with the title of story and a little write-up. THE KEYS OF HIRAM CRENSHAW was one of those short story and short blahgs. Click on the link to read both.
I wrote another story in June of 2025. I thought it was an interesting premise and certainly something different for me. The story and the blahg had the title THE POCKET PAL’S GUIDE TO MURDER. Again, click the link to read it.
In April, before I wrote and posted “The Pocket Pal’s Guide To Murder,” I finally got around to finishing a short story I had started in July of 2023. It’s a full on science fiction story called, THE SODA MACHINE. I had set it aside for a year and a half and when I got back to it, I wasn’t sure where to start again. I threw this funny line in as a placeholder: “what Elvis would do” and then the words came and I kept the line. It also came around and helped me complete the end of the story.
“The Pocket Pal’s Guide To Murder” and “The Soda Machine” had science fiction tones to them. So did two stories, I wrote in 2024, HOW GRANDPA PUT DOWN THE ROBOT UPRISING and THE HOHNER COMET. We had been doing some renovations at home and I was downsizing my desk and the contents. I came across the first short science fiction story that I ever wrote, PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR OF EARTH. It’s not great but in the blahg, I post the story and how I let Chat GPT write a sequel to it. That’s all I’ll probably do with that story.
Every year, well at least since 2013, I have written a Christmas themed story. Most have been works of fiction but I think there was a Christmas observational piece in there somewhere. This past Christmas, I decided to write a fictional story based on our Christmas traditions at my home. It turned out well, THE TWO AND TEN…A CHRISTMAS GIFT EXCHANGE is a moving story and became my second last blahg of 2025.
The one blahg I didn’t get around to writing in 2025 was “How About You, Delbert Robinson.” It’s a short story that I have struggled to finish for the past few months. I know the ending but getting from the middle to there has been challenging. I hope to finish it this year and post a blahg with the completed story. I also discovered today that I started writing a short observational piece back in April of last year. I didn’t finish it either but I think I will try and get back to it. Here’s what I have written so far:
MY GREEK HISTORY
By
Scott Henderson
This is a history that I have left for myself. It’s all true or most of what I have remembered. Every now and then I pull out the memories and shake them up like a snow globe and watch this beautiful scene I’ve kept wrapped in a protective bubble. It’s nothing embarrassing but until now I have never felt it necessary to put this to paper.
Even now, this history is a like an archaeological site where you have to carefully peal back the layers to get at the true story underneath. My Greek history is almost forty years old and parts of it, the underlying layers, are even older than that.
I could begin with my first year of University but that part of the history will remain concealed. Let me summarize by saying I made some mistakes and had to move out of my University residence and drop down to part-time studies. That’s the only fossil that pieces together with the almost forty years story but it’s not the only part that has been buried in this account.
In my last year of University I moved back into residence and parts of this story begin to reveal themselves. When you’re a third year student and you move into a dormitory of sorts with people younger than you then you can draw on those previous experiences to guide you as a mature adult among the newbies. The problem was, I had no experience. I had, like this history, buried myself away and had no friends and no experiences. Academia had been my focus and the socialization aspect of higher education had eluded me. I felt something was missing and advocated to return to residence life. I had to really convince myself as much as I did the University. For two years, I had kept a low profile and that in itself was enough to convince the administration that I deserved a second chance.
This is where I take liberties and sift through minutiae and only gather the important bits. My studies get sorted and set aside. They are not important in this other than to say I did well in my courses and they were not a burden to the rest of this history. That socialization I spoke of, and specifically the lack of it, came more into play than the studies. I made friends. It’s as simple as that but a core piece of that is brought to the front. I made a girl friend.
The fact that I was an English studies major should challenge me to correct that statement that I made a girl friend. Indeed, she wasn’t manufactured. She wasn’t made up or fictionalized. She was a girl who became a friend and later…but I’m getting ahead of myself.
I’d like to jump forward in time and say that the non-constructed girl friend and I have been married for almost thirty-eight years. I don’t know why I say “almost thirty-eight years” as if there’s some doubt that we’ll achieve that goal but it’s easier to round up than down and it’s important to highlight the fact that we’re still together despite the summer of my Greek history. That, too, is getting ahead of myself.
Let’s summarize in an effort to get the important fragments into the light where they will have significance. I had dropped down to part-time studies in my first year, moved into residence again in my third year, made friends, and made a girl friend. That’s what falls out when you sieve through the totality.
The building I lived in during that third year had a first and second floor as well as an east side and a west side. I think in total, there were 25 students living throughout the building. Despite taking numerous English studies courses, I never got around to studying Rudyard Kipling or I might have been disheartened by his poem “The Ballad of East and West” containing the iconic phrase “East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet.” In my narrative East and West did meet however and the rest is history. Well, at least the rest is pre-history because I have yet to get the Greek history portion.
There were only two females on the first floor of the east building and five males. Of those, only one of the females ranks in this chronicle and four of the males, including myself, have any significance. Although I’d like to think I ranked more than enough significance.
Speaking of short stories, with a reference to ones that were not written by me, I made a concerted effort to read all 79 short science fiction stories written by the forgotten author, William Morrison. This was inspired by re-reading one of my all time favourite short science fiction stories, “The Sly Bungerhop.” I manged to pen four blahgs about my effort, THE SLY BUNGERHOP ET AL, WILLIAM MORRISON…HALF-WAY THERE, WILLIAM MORRISON AGAIN…NOT DONE YET, and WILLIAM MORRISON, THE FINAL 10…LET THE COUNTDOWN BEGIN! I still have some non-science fiction stories of his to read, mystery, detective, and western themed and a few others I haven’t tracked down. I highly recommend reading some of Morrison’s science fiction stories. Here’s a reprint of a biography of Morrison published in “Startling Stories” September 1942:
Another lofty goal I had set for myself last year was to watch 100 films from 1939. That year is considered one of the greatest in film history. Just look at a short list of films from that year:
Gone with the Wind Stagecoach The Wizard of Oz Wuthering Heights Mr. Smith Goes to Washington Goodbye, Mr. Chips Ninotchka Destry Rides Again The Hunchback of Notre Dame Dark Victory Young Mr. Lincoln Of Mice and Men The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes Babes in Arms Beau Geste
I didn’t watch all of those films but here’s the list I did get through, managing to get to 101:
Now, for books I read last year. I discovered that there was sequel to Darryl Brock’s 1990 novel, “If I Never Get Back”
The Wikipedia entry for this book is “in the novel, a modern-day San Francisco journalist named Sam Fowler steps off an Amtrak train and finds himself in 1869. He joins the Cincinnati Red Stockings baseball team, meets Mark Twain, and falls in love with a woman of the times.” It’s one of my favourite books and I reread it so I could read the sequel, “Two in the Field.“
It was a great read but the original is the best. I also discovered that Brock wrote another baseball themed story, “Havana Heat”
This book takes place in the early 1900s and is told from the viewpoint of a hearing impaired baseball player with connections to the New York Yankees. Great book. All three are definitely worth reading.
In the 2026 Ramble video I also mention two books on my list to read this year. I couldn’t remember the full author’s name and stumble trying to say Barbara Villy Cormack. The novel she wrote is called “Local Rag” and was published in 1951. It’s set in a small town in Alberta, Canada and is about a local newspaper and the comings and goings in the small town.
The other book I want to read this year is about the comic actor Hans Conreid.
I hope to get to them in the next few months.
Yesterday, January 10th, I got around to my annual Christmas Tree launch. I drag our annual tree down to the creek at the bottom of my yard and launch it and watch it float away. This year was a success:
I fell out of the bathtub. True story! Here’s what I wrote about it:
Here’s a cautionary tale for you.
Yesterday, I fell out of the shower and went ass over tea-kettle onto the floor. Still don’t know how it happened. I slipped somehow and went out the back side onto my backside.
We have a clawfoot tub with an oval shower surround so there’s shower curtains on both sides. Our tub goes across diagonally so there’s very little space behind the tub and up to the wall. You can look at the two photos below. Sometimes one of our cats likes to crap back there and we have to climb over into the space and clean it up. Yesterday, the shower curtain slowed me down but I fell into that small space on the other side of the tub with the shower curtain between me and the inevitable cat crap left by our cat. I was in lots of pain and screaming and yelling for Jeanette. She was asleep in another part of the house and couldn’t hear me.
I managed to wriggle out behind the back of the tub; all the while screaming my head off. I got out to the front side where my metal clothes hamper was sitting and started banging on that and eventually Jeanette heard that and came to my rescue. She helped me up and then helped clean the cat litter off me so I could get dressed and go to the hospital. I thought my neck was going to snap off and felt every bump on the way to Picton. Two rounds of X-rays in Picton and then sent to Belleville for a cat scan. Nothing broken but if they’d done a cat crap scan they might have found some on my side or back.
I had to wear a neck brace all day but 8 hours later, I was back at home without the brace. Advil and Blue Ice gel and I’m back to work today but my neck is still really sore. I can’t watch any tennis matches for a while.
What’s the lesson here? I don’t know. Don’t shower alone? I’m not going to admit getting old and needing grab bars. It was a fluke. I showered this morning and was fine but very cautious. I could have imagined what would have happened if I couldn’t get out from behind the tub and the paramedics had to come. I know they’d have taken pictures and posted it on their secret online site where they talk about what stupid humans get up to.
Here’s my memento photo of the event:
As I said in the Ramble, my wife still gets up when I get up so she can listen and hear if I’ve fallen again. That’s love for you.
I’ve decided to skip over the Politics section. The world’s crazy enough without adding my opinion, except I’ll re-post here something I posted on Facebook last April
As time went by, that changed. See, the Meisterburgers kinda died off and fell out of power. By and by the good people realized how silly the Meisterburger laws were. Well, everyone had a wonderful laugh and then forgot all about ’em.
All of our children, Emily, Noah, and Abbie as well as Emily’s husband Charlie and Noah’s girlfriend, Robin, were all down for Christmas. My goal is to see more of them. The issue is that they all live in Toronto so we only get together a handful of times during the year and video chat when we can. The other issue is that I didn’t take any photos of everybody when they were here over the holidays. I decided to scan our group chats and Facebook feeds to see if I could find various photos last year of the children either together or with me. Here’s what I found:
Emily and I when we attended one of her roller derby games on April 26, 2025:
Noah and I at the Nathaniel Rateliff concert in Toronto on March 21, 2025
Abbie and I at the Transformers TFCon on July 12, 2025:
On the same day that Abbie and I were at TFCon, Emily and Charlie went to see Superman:
Four days later, on July 16, 2025, Jeanette and I went to see Superman:
On September 26th, Emily and Abbie came in first at the pairs speed puzzle event they went to:
Separate photos of Noah and Robin opening their Christmas presents early in Toronto:
Hopefully, we’ll get some group family photos taken this year.
Write more stories. Haven’t I written enough? I know, I need to finish “HOW ABOUT YOU, DELBERT ROBINSON?” and there’s that “Odd Ducks” story from 25 years ago to finish. Give me time. I’ve got to finish this blahg first.
Mention Paul McCartney Concert. Oh year, I might have forgotten to mention that. On November 21, 2025 I drove down to Hamilton to the newly refurbished TD Coliseum to see Paul McCartney with Jeanette, Noah, and Robin. It was a fantastic concert. Here’s what I posted on my Facebook at the time:
Jeanette and I went to Hamilton last night and saw the greatest concert we’ve ever seen. Paul McCartney performed for two hours and fifty minutes and didn’t miss a beat. At one point a small stage rose in the air and he sang “Blackbird.” He came out for an encore waving a Canadian flag while members of the band waved the Union Jack and the pride flag. One of his encores was Mull of Kintyre with a Port Dover Scottish marching band joining him on stage. The guy is class and still has the chops. We went with our son Noah and his girlfriend Robin. We had an amazing time. The pyrotechnics on “Live and Let Die” were mind blowing!
Here’s the photo I posted at the time:
Noah had purchased the tickets but he couldn’t get 4 seats together so Jeanette and I had seats on the other side of the Coliseum. Here’s a photo I posted to our Family group chat asking “Where’s Waldo? In this case Robin and Noah.
Abbie posted back the reply, “Found Them.”
Here’s a photo of Jeanette and I at the concert:
On the way out of the concert, they were giving out the following poster:
Jeanette gave ours away to someone who didn’t get one but Noah and Robin got two so we ended up with one for ourselves. We had Noah and Robin’s poster framed for Christmas.
Someone has posted the entire concert on YouTube. It’s well worth watching:
In the Ramble, I also mentioned the renovations Jeanette and I did last year. I want to post two photos. The first shows what our 20 plus year old flooring in our living room looked like:
Here’s what it looked like after, and that’s our cat Zoey enjoying the sunshine.
We have no major renovations planned for this year but I do want to restain my deck and possibly change out our garage doors. That sounds like another blahg.
I’m going to combine two topics. This is all about my Funko collection. Here are some photos of some of my Funkos (certainly not all):
There’s also the Plastic Man soda that I posted above with the photo of the Plastic Man Funko Pop. I’ll try and post a more detailed blahg later this year showing off everything. 269 is quite a number.
Digging out my inflatables. I think there’s a shot of them in the Ramble video. They’re all out now. Here’s what they looked like before Christmas:
I might have to do some repairs on some but I’ve put them away until a warmer month. We hope to inflate them all again in June and July. I’ll post those pictures when we get around to it. Christmas in July!
That’s it, I think, for this Ramble Unpacking. I covered a great deal but I closed with the wish for World Peace. Maybe if everyone else decides to wish for it, we’ll finally get closer to making it happen.
About a year ago, exactly July 24th, 2024, I posted a blahg called WHAT PRICE HOLIDAYS? It was all about my week of holidays I took in July and I thought I would visit that theme because I’m just coming off another week of holidays. Let me just say this past week’s holidays were better than the week I took off last October. My Mother’s house burned at that time and I’m still dealing with the ramifications of that. You can read more about that ordeal in the blahg, TWICE IN A LIFETIME…IS TOO MUCH. Some interesting things happened for me last week so I’ll jump into it with a bang.
Okay, so this didn’t happen during my holidays but it was the bang that started everything off. Two weeks ago on July 14th I fell. Here’s what I posted about that on my Facebook:
Here’s a cautionary tale for you.
Yesterday, I fell out of the shower and went ass over tea-kettle onto the floor. Still don’t know how it happened. I slipped somehow and went out the back side onto my backside.
We have a clawfoot tub with an oval shower surround so there’s shower curtains on both sides. Our tub goes across diagonally so there’s very little space behind the tub and up to the wall. You can look at the two photos below. Sometimes one of our cats likes to crap back there and we have to climb over into the space and clean it up. Yesterday, the shower curtain slowed me down but I fell into that small space on the other side of the tub with the shower curtain between me and the inevitable cat crap left by our cat. I was in lots of pain and screaming and yelling for Jeanette. She was asleep in another part of the house and couldn’t hear me.
I managed to wriggle out behind the back of the tub; all the while screaming my head off. I got out to the front side where my metal clothes hamper was sitting and started banging on that and eventually Jeanette heard that and came to my rescue. She helped me up and then helped clean the cat litter off me so I could get dressed and go to the hospital. I thought my neck was going to snap off and felt every bump on the way to Picton. Two rounds of X-rays in Picton and then sent to Belleville for a cat scan. Nothing broken but if they’d done a cat crap scan they might have found some on my side or back.
I had to wear a neck brace all day but 8 hours later, I was back at home without the brace. Advil and Blue Ice gel and I’m back to work today but my neck is still really sore. I can’t watch any tennis matches for a while.
What’s the lesson here? I don’t know. Don’t shower alone? I’m not going to admit getting old and needing grab bars. It was a fluke. I showered this morning and was fine but very cautious. I could have imagined what would have happened if I couldn’t get out from behind the tub and the paramedics had to come. I know they’d have taken pictures and posted it on their secret online site where they talk about what stupid humans get up to.
Here are the photos I posted:
The injury plagued me during the week before my holidays and during my week off. Oh yes, apparently, according to my wife’s Aunt Sandra, a retired nurse, they put the neck brace on backwards at the hospital…at least that’s what she said when she saw the above photo.
Another thing that started before my holidays but continued during my holidays was the disassembly of our old upright piano. My wife wanted it gone and it was too heavy to remove in one piece. We watched some videos about taking it apart and thought we could handle it. I rely again on Facebook but this time it’s what my wife posted to her Facebook on July 8th:
Next project is reorganizing the dining room. Getting rid of a big desk and moving my cedar chest on to someone else who would care for it is part of the plan. Before that happens though we need to say good bye to the piano. It’s actually our oldest daughter’s piano and she was the only one who ever learned. It’s lived with us for about 23 years or so and moved with us once. If memory serves me right, I believe it originally came out of CML Snyder Elementary School and was lovingly restored by a friend of ours who did that back in the day. (Rick Moynes, you did an awesome job!) It was a beautiful piece of furniture. Unfortunately, today you can’t give them away and we are unable to move it out of our house so we are taking it apart. We are working on getting the right tools to loosen the strings so we can continue taking it apart carefully. If anyone would like pieces to repurpose or create some kind of sculpture/ art work, let me know!
Here are the photos Jeanette posted:
We managed to order the correct tool from Amazon to remove the strings:
Of course, we needed to find an adapter that would allow this tool to fit into a socket wrench and our drill. That came from Canadian Tire and we began to remove some of the strings before my holidays began. I’ll get back to the topic of the disassembly later as it fits into my holidays timeline.
I always take a week of holidays in July with the first weekend being our annual visit to the Transformers or TF Con in Mississauga. In the blahg, WHAT PRICE HOLIDAYS? I talked about our 2024 visit. This year was a lot of fun as well. One of the big highlights of the convention is always visiting the Dealer Room. Here’s a quick video of me in the Dealer Room on Saturday morning July 12th:
I know, I’m officially a geek. Last year I was looking for the Dracula Transformer and I found it. The only thing I had in mind to find this year was a Funko Pop of Cyclonus:
Cyclonus is a character I really like. Unfortunately no one had this Funko Pop. So I settled instead for a Scorponok figure from the Beast Wars line:
There wasn’t much else I was looking for but I happened to stumble, or rather someone else did, on a Micronauts Battle Cruiser. Last year, in 2024, I bought my first Battle Cruiser at the 2024 TF Con. Here’s what it looks like on my shelf:
This year, I was browsing over a vendor’s booth in the corner at TF Con and I saw him trip over a box on the floor. To my surprise, it was another Micronauts Battle Cruiser but in a box. It looked nearly complete and had the french instruction sheet but that wasn’t a show stopper. I asked if it was for sale and he was surprised because it was a Transformers convention after all and who goes to buy Micronauts? I do! He gladly stated it was for sale at $50. I think I paid $30 or $35 last year for a near 75 percent complete version not in box. Here’s a couple of photos of this year’s Battle Cruiser purchase:
Unfortunately, the motor or the remote in last year’s version didn’t work. More about that later. I was also surprised to learn from the vendor that he had some other Micronauts vehicles and would bring them in the next day. Score! Again, more about that later.
The next day, before making it to the vendor with Micronauts, I managed to spy a Plastic Man in box at a guy in the far opposite corner of the other vendor I came back to see. I’m a big fan of Plastic Man and at $20, and again, in the original box, I felt I couldn’t pass him up. Here’s what he looks like:
Plastic Man is from 2016. He’s going to go on a shelf with my San Diego Comic Con Plastic Man figure and my Plastic Man Funko Pop. Here are pictures of first, the San Diego Comic Con figure, and then the Funko Pop:
Of course there is a Funko Soda Plastic Man and the Chase of the Soda that I don’t own but plan to purchase at some point. Here’s what they look like. The Chase is pictured in the bottom right.
I finally made it to the other corner vendor who had promised me more Micronauts vehicles. He didn’t disappoint. Here’s what he had:
As you can see by the instruction sheet in each photo, the top vehicle is the Galactic Cruiser and the bottom one is the Hydra. Now, I didn’t own the Galactic Cruiser but I already had a Hydra at home. Here is a picture of it on my Micronauts shelf:
My other Hydra is more complete with the rear missile set but the chance to purchase another one with the instruction sheet was very tempting. The vendor wanted $25 a piece but said I could have the pair for $40. That was not a difficult decision. $40 for the pair and both with instruction sheets? It was a great deal I couldn’t pass up. They didn’t have the original boxes but they’re still valuable to be in my collection.
Back to the Battle Cruiser. As I said, my one from 2024 did not have a functioning motor. When I tested this year’s acquisition, I found the motor didn’t work in this one either. I purchased new batteries but that didn’t solve the problem. I decided to take the motor housing apart. Nothing was broken inside that I could tell. I tried to turn the gears by hand to see if they were stuck from age and non-use. That did the trick. It started working perfectly. I tried the same trick on the 2024 Battle Cruiser and it worked it again. Here’s a short video of me operating this year’s purchase:
Now, I just need to find a few figures to sit in the Battle Cruiser as well as the Galactic Cruiser and Hydra. Oh, and I’ll need a new shelf to display everything. That’s part of some remodelling we want to do this year. More on that later.
My daughter Abbie and I had a great time at TF Con as usual. We watched some panels, tried out for the script reading (but neither of us was chosen) and had a great time at the Transformers trivia game show; even if we didn’t win. Here’s a photo of Abbie and I during the game show (we’re on the left):
Basically the name of a Transformer appeared on a screen and we had to take turns giving clues to each other or pass. I think we did okay. The final part was like wheel of fortune where they give you a clue and then they start to reveal letters and members of both teams can buzz in with the answer. Unfortunately, we weren’t great at that. Still, fun time had for our 7th or 8th year of attending. My wife Jeanette was also with us.
Remember when I started off this blahg talking about the fall I had from my claw-foot tub? Well, I left out a part of that story. When I fell, I took the shower curtain down with me and broke the wrap around shower curtain rod. Of course, the one we had is no longer manufactured so I had to order a new one from Amazon. It was waiting on our deck outside our back door when we got back from TF Con.
This is what it is supposed to look like when it’s installed:
The piece at the left end that goes straight up into the ceiling was of course a different size and the rod at the front by the shower head goes straight ahead and our layout needs a rod that goes up into the ceiling. We managed to salvage a piece from our old shower curtain rod to use on the front to run it to the ceiling. We had to drill a new hole for the large rod at the back but we finally got it. We also had to buy a new shower head and a third shower curtain as the new rod is much bigger than the previous one. All this was done on the Tuesday of my holidays. Monday had been spent running my mother to two different Doctor appointments so that doesn’t count.
On Wednesday we went shopping in Kingston. I didn’t find anything. We decided to race back to Belleville for the 3pm showing of “Superman.” We had wanted to go to the movies on Monday but it just didn’t fit into our busy schedule for that day. Here’s what I posted to Facebook:
Saw Superman yesterday. I liked it. A friend of mine was right when he said it was an homage to 1970s Superman comics. I grew up on those so I understood what was going on. It’s not another origin story but you do get Martha and Jonathan Kent but they were a little too hillbilly for my liking. Oh well, after you’ve had Kevin Costner play Jonathan and the even greater Glenn Ford, it’s hard to top those. I’m a big fan of Metamorpho The Element Man so that was a bonus to see that character in the film. Check it out for yourself. That’s the only way you’re going to find out if you’ll like it
My friend Stephen Dafoe said “I really enjoyed the film. It was like running to the corner store with a quarter to grab a Giant-Sized Superman Comic.” If you remember the Giant-Sized Comics for 25 cents then you truly were a child of the 1970s.
Thursday, we went travelling again. When we were driving through Toronto on the way to or from TF Con, I had seen a poster for an upcoming production of “The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe.” at the Shaw Festival at Niagara on the Lake. We decided to get tickets for Thursday July 17th and we booked a motel in Niagara Falls that was only 15 minutes away. Here’s some more geeky shots of me at the play:
The bottom photo is of me trying to enter the Wardrobe they had on display in the lobby. Apparently it was not a real entrance to Narnia. The play was great and fun and I’m glad we went.
On the way home from Niagara on the Lake we decided to make a stop at Jerry’s Toys in Vaughan.
Jerry’s Toys is like a Tardis from Doctor Who. It’s small on the outside but it’s huge on the inside. It advertises itself as toys and collectibles but 99 percent of the store are Funkos. Just check out this picture:
That’s just the front half of the store. There’s a whole back section as well. I last visited there in March when I was on the lookout for a Jean LaFoote Funko Pop.
I already had a Cap’N Crunch Funko as well as a Crunchberry Beast:
I was on the hunt for that Jean LaFoote. I had seen LaFoote at a fleamarket in Pickering a few years back but it was very expensive. I also saw him the figure at this year’s Toronto ComicCon but the vendor wanted $75 and the vendor wasn’t very nice when I tried to engage with him about some other pops which he didn’t have. That’s a story for another time. The good news was that Jerry’s Toys had LaFoote for $50. I purchased it along with a few other Funko Pops that interested me. What I didn’t realize until I got home that time was that my Cap’N Crunch was out of sequence. Mine was a different issue with a sword. Mine was number 36 but the Crunchberry Beast was #15 and LaFoote was #16. On researching it further, I found out that first Cap’N Crunch was #14 and had been a Target exclusive:
If I want to be a completist, there is a Cozmic Cap’n Crunch Glow-in-the-Dark Funko Pop and a Cap’N Crunch 10″ Super-Sized Pop that I don’t own:
So, back to the current story, we stopped in at Jerry’s Toys on the way back from Niagara on the Lake and I picked up #14. I also purchased a dozen Funko Sodas. These are smaller figures in aluminum soda cans. There’s no real soda inside. There are chase variants of the Funko Sodas but I didn’t purchase any chases. I was looking for some interesting cartoon characters and I had seen in some of the Jerry’s Toys videos from TikTok that he had some in stock. I had only started looking into the Sodas after I purchased a couple at the Cornwall and Area Pop Event I had attended back in April. Back then, I had picked up Super Chicken and Klondike Kat:
I eventually purchased the Savoie-Faire Soda to go along with Klondie Kat. Savoir-Faire is the nemesis to Klondike Kat in the cartoons. The image below shows the figure I bought and at the bottom right is an image of the chase version.
I have a few other Soda figures. I have a Captain Carter chase figure and a Marty McFly with guitar. My daughter Abbie also purchased me a Dick Dastardly Soda figure when she was at a recent convention in Niagara Falls. The photo below shows the Dick Dastardly figure in front of his Funko Pop version. Below that is the Super Chicken Soda beside his Funko Pop version.
So that left me a Muttley Soda to find to go with my Muttley Pop figure. Luckily, Muttley was one of the dozen Sodas I purchased. The three pictures below are the Sodas I purchased this time around from Jerry’s Toys:
Notice the Muttley in the first picture. Of all of these Sodas, I also own the Funko Pop versions of Rosie, Underdog, Cap’N Crunch, Jean LaFoote, Ricochet Rabbit, Mr. Owl, and Peter Potamus. Someday I’d like to own the Chase versions of all of these figures.
The last part of my summer holiday story brings us back to the disassembly of our old upright piano. This past weekend we got back to it on the Saturday we finally removed the rest of the 240 pegs that held the strings. That left us just with the metal harps on the front and back. The back version was held on by several screws and they were very difficult to remove. I had to soak the bottom ones with penetrating oil overnight and then had to use brute strength, a hammer, a screwdriver, and locking pliers to eventually get them free. Here’s a photo of me on the floor, behind the piano trying to remove the screws:
Here’s a photo of the front cast-iron harp after all the strings were removed:
The gold/brass coloured item is solid cast iron. There was a twin of it on the backside of the piano. The rear version weighed about 250 pounds and the front version was around 300. Jeanette and I managed to get them both out of the house but a neighbour’s friend helped us take the heavier version out to the road. Here are two photos of the rear harp and then the front harp:
If anyone wants free scrap iron, drop by Demorestville and pick it up. There’s some nice wood leftover from the piano that I might try to re-purpose. I still have the shell of the piano left to take apart but it’s out of the house and on our deck:
Hey, if you’re stopping by for the cast iron, please take the shell along, too. Otherwise it’s going to be a saw, chain saw, and sledge hammer and crowbar to break it down. My elbows and arms are still hurting me. At least with the piano out, we can get onto a dining room refresh and possibly a new shelf to house Funkos and my Micronauts….if my wife lets me.
After all that, it was time to go back to work. I’ll take another set of holidays probably in October. Who knows what adventures we’ll have then. Hopefully no disassembly or some assembly required!
Okay, time for another fully realized original short story by me, Scott Henderson. I have been working on this story for over a month and it hasn’t been easy. My notes show I started the story on May 5th. I finished the final edit yesterday on June 9th. Why so long? Well, let’s give you some point by point excuses why it took so long to write my current story.
1) Get an idea. I had the idea of this pocket device that will do almost everything for you but it’s a little kooky and drives a young woman nuts.
2) Mull it over. Change the setup and then come up with an ending without writing a single word then try and figure out how you’re going to steer your story to your new ending.
3) Write a blahg about Clifford Simak instead. That was my blahg, THAT BLAHG ABOUT CLIFFORD D. SIMAK, that I published on May 13th. I think it’s a good blahg but it was also a distraction.
4) Get obsessed with trying to find some Funko Pops you really wanted. I learned there was going to be a new batch of Jimmy Neutron Funko Pops released and I really wanted them.
My wife managed to find Jimmy Neutron at the Hot Topic store in Kingston. At the same time she also found two of the new Goofy Movie 30th Anniversary Pops:
She picked up Goofy and Max as Powerline. That left Roxanne and Bobby. No one had Bobby. If he was listed anywhere, he was sold out. I know that he was available through Hot Topic because Top Pops through his YouTube channel showed him picking them up. He managed to score Goofy, Max, and Bobby all in one go. The Bobby has a Funko exclusive sticker on him so I knew he’d be hard to locate.
Roxanne was also hard to find. Online Funko shops listed her as coming out on December 31st of this year but that didn’t make any sense. Game Stop’s website listed her as coming out on May 16th. There was a pre-order link to order and pick up in the store but I decided I’d try my local Game Stop on May 16th. No, she was not there. The Game Stop website then showed her as coming out on May 23rd but the pre-order link was gone. I tried Game Stop on May 23rd but no luck. The release date online then shifted to May 30th and the pre-order in store pick up link was back. I ordered it. Game Stop also listed Max and Goofy but had no listing for Bobby. I was able to order a Bobby off of Amazon and it arrived by May 28th. On May 30th I went to my local Game Stop and they had Roxanne for me. They also had Bobby. Just my luck, I had decided to order it from Amazon and pay $10 more than the Game Stop price.
Getting back to the Jimmy Neutron figures, no other website had the two other pops, Carl and Sheen listed so I had to order them from www.funko.com/ca. My wife and I went back to Hot Topic in Kingston on May 24th to see if they might have received Bobby or Roxanne in stock. They didn’t have them. We then went across the road to the Game Stop where I saw Carl and Sheen. By then, I’d already received them in the mail. Game Stop had not listed them on their website but when I got home, I checked their website and they were listed. What gives Game Stop?
5) Celebrate your wedding anniversary on May 30th and pick up Roxanne at Game Stop. Jeanette and I went out to Swiss Chalet then went to the movies, after picking up Roxanne, and saw the new Mission: Impossible movie. It was good. Here’s the photo I posted on Facebook to celebrate our 38th Anniversary. It’s us 38 years ago!
6) Decide to recover our living room floor. Okay, we’ve been thinking about this for a while. We’ve lived in our old house for more than twenty years, and our living room floor has always been a bit of an eyesore. Here’s a couple of before photos that Jeanette took:
We started the job on June 1st by removing all of the furniture and then laying down underlayment over top of the old flooring. We then worked a couple of hours each night and then again a little more on Saturday June 7th and then two smaller pieces on June 8th. We both were sore and tired and realized we had more muscles to spare twenty years ago. Back then, however, we had a full house of kids and cats and not enough money. The flooring was on sale this year at Rona and I bought the underlayment off a guy on Facebook Marketplace. Here’s the result with some during and after photos. The white stuff is the underlayment.
Our cat, Zoey found a spot of sunshine to enjoy along with the new floor. Well worth all our efforts
7) Live your life. Work was busy and we had lots to do and people to see. That was the best distraction.
Finally, the story is done. It’s a little long and little darker than what I usually write and it went off in a different direction than I expected but I think the ending really pulls it together. Enjoy!
THE POCKET PAL’S GUIDE TO MURDER
by
Scott Henderson
The chicken was white. It strutted across the farmyard. It also pecked for food. It did not lay an egg that morning but some other hens did.
“This is garbage,” Sally Hines said aloud after reading out her first attempt at writing a new story.
Sally clicked the A.I. correction button in the word editing software. There were no suggestions.
“That cinches it. You can’t improve on garbage, Anna.” Sally was getting good at expressing her opinions to herself.
“The enigmatic and sudden disappearance of a main character, such as a farmer, would be a great plot device for a mystery story.” Sally turned and looked at her Pocket Pal.
“You’re kidding right, Anna?”
As if to signify it was not kidding, Anna said nothing.
“There’s definitely something wrong with that thing,” Sally thought to herself. She felt it was probably safer not to say it out loud. She didn’t want to deal with a response from Anna.
At first Sally thought the Pocket Pal was a blessing. Now, she wasn’t so sure.
The Pocket Pal had been marketed as the electronic aid that no one should live without. It synced to your phone, your tablet, and your personal computer. It operated on vocal commands to send texts, make phone calls, turn on and off other synced devices, and provided research on anything Sally Hines could think to ask of it.
Sometimes it provided data when Sally Hines did not ask.
“Extrapolating from recent playlists, I have selected the following song for your personal enjoyment.” Sally did like the song that Anna had selected. Still, it was alarming to hear Anna offer the suggestion without being prompted.
“Did you know that Dung Beetles do not necessarily have to eat or drink anything else, because the dung provides all the necessary nutrients?” Anna had offered on another occasion. It had not related to anything in any conversation Sally had ever had with Anna.
“No, I did not know that Anna. Thank you for the information.” Sally had become accustomed to Anna’s idiosyncrasies.
After the Dung Beetle dialogue, Sally thought it was time to review Anna’s manual again. These uninvited information offerings had become more and more frequent and Sally wanted to be sure that it wasn’t something she had wrongly set in Anna’s programing.
The manual offered nothing insightful. There was some dribble about thanking the user for their discerning purchase and how they should be prepared to have their life changed for the better. Beyond that it was simple steps about harmonizing the Pocket Pal to all other devices, vocal recognition, and choosing a voice suitable to the user’s needs. Customization of voice followed a section on naming your new Pocket Pal to suit your whim. Sally had chosen a pleasing female voice and called her device Anna. It wasn’t without thought. Anna had been the name of Sally’s imaginary friend when she was younger. Now she was more than Sally’s imaginary friend, she was Sally’s Pocket Pal.
Initially, it was simple. All Sally had to do was to say Anna’s name and then instruct her on what Sally wanted her Pocket Pal to do. Anna had both a microphone and a speaker. Anna could send texts and make phone calls. She could create reminders with Sally’s prompting. Anna was also intuitive and would let Sally know if there were upcoming events from Sally’s texts or calendar. At those times, it would be Anna who would prompt Sally.
Comparable in size to a deck of cards, it was simple to carry Anna in a purse, a bag, or in a pocket; as her marketed name suggested. For an extra fee, you could purchase a holster that could be worn on the waist or adjusted to secure to the forearm or even between the elbow and shoulder area. Sally had opted for the latter. She often thought of rolling Anna up in her shirt sleeve like a pack of cigarettes. She’d seen the cool kids do that when she’d attended high-school even though Sally had never been part of that group.
When it came to friends, Sally could not boast great success. Her imaginary friend Anna had been her constant companion in her pre-teen years and she struggled to make lasting connections later on. Even her ex-boyfriend Bryce had turned out to be a jerk. Sally often thought that if she asked her Pocket Pal for a generated list of names for a jerk type character that the name Bryce would be close to the top.
Sally hated Bryce. The feeling had been immediate and lasting after their breakup. In reality it hadn’t been much of a breakup. Bryce had admitted to Sally by text that he had met someone else and he and Sally were through. He didn’t even have the compassion to add ‘it’s not you, it’s me.’ Even ‘it’s been fun’ or ‘I wish you the best’ would have been something. Sally hated Bryce.
When Bryce left, Sally cried for days. Anna had been her only friend during that period. Anna would play sad songs or happy songs or offer advice like “I am here for you Sally if you have any requests” or “many people indulge in substantial doses of ice-cream and Netflix following the end of a relationship.” Well, they may not have been tailored expressly for Sally but she took comfort knowing she could talk to Anna and not be judged.
Sally’s healing process after Bryce had been to throw herself back into her writing. She’d always enjoyed writing fiction and as a youth she had included her fictional friend Anna in many of her literary efforts. When she was with Bryce, she hadn’t found time to indulge in writing. She was focussed on the relationship and between her day job and Bryce she had been busy enough. Sometimes as an Event Coordinator everything else had to take second place. Events weren’t always a daytime occurrence. Occasionally there were evening galas or weekend weddings or holiday experiences. Maybe Sally had not given all of her attention to Bryce and maybe he’d wanted her entire focus to have been on him. No, Sally thought, he’d been a jerk. Skimpy floral arrangements or miscoloured balloon schemes or insufficient chair rentals couldn’t handle themselves. Sometimes Sally had to step in. Bryce should have understood that. He didn’t and that’s why he was a jerk…as well as how he’d broken things off. Sally hated Bryce.
Writing, at times, could be cathartic but since Bryce, Sally had found it more of a chore and the words did not always come easy to her. She’d find herself using the A.I. editing software more often or would turn to Anna and ask for synonyms or suggestions for locales. The current chicken scenario had proven to Sally her creative processes were slowly running dry.
Sally thought again about Anna’s suggestion that she kill off the farmer in her current story. Well, that hadn’t been exactly what Anna had suggested but it was close enough.
“Anna, what was that you said about the mysterious disappearance of a main character making for an interesting read?”
“The enigmatic and sudden disappearance of a main character, such as a farmer, would be a great plot device for a mystery story,” Anna repeated.
“That’s what I thought you said,” Sally replied. Anna’s unsolicited suggestion, although disturbing at first, might prove to be helpful after all.
“Anna, if you were stuck for a story idea, what suggestions could you offer for a suitable plot idea?”
“Currently, themes of sex or murder factor significantly in the bestselling novels,” came Anna’s reply.
“Well Anna, there’s certainly none of either of those happening around here,” Sally offered as a response.
“You once told me you hated Bryce,” Anna countered.
Sally was taken aback. What did Anna mean by that? Was she suggesting that the murder of Bryce was a good idea or was she reminding Sally that she shouldn’t dwell on the lack of sexual activity in her life because Sally’s last partner had turned out to be a jerk?
“Revenge themed murders rank highly among the most popular mystery stories,” Anna continued.
“We’re talking about a story idea, right Anna?” Sally wasn’t quite certain of Anna’s meaning.
“There are certain toxins in plant varieties that when combined correctly can produce an undetectable poisonous substance. I have just sent the information to your cell phone.” Sally’s phone chimed with the notification of data received to the Pocket Pal app.
Sally scrolled through the material. Anna had been very thorough. Oddly, all of the plants suggested by Anna were easily available. Sally had another very uneasy feeling about her Pocket Pal.
“Anna, I asked you before if we were talking about a story idea?” Anna had not directly answered Sally’s initial question.
“Mark Twain was famously attributed as saying ‘write what you know’.”
“What does that mean? I don’t know anything about murder.” Sally wasn’t sure what to do now about Anna. Anna was offering inappropriate suggestions. Or was she?
“You once told me you hated Bryce. I have sent information to your phone regarding certain toxins in plant varieties that when combined correctly can produce an undetectable poisonous substance.” Anna was now merging previous statements to formulate a new response. Sally was left to make the conclusion that Anna was indeed suggesting she murder Bryce and was providing Sally with the means to do it.
None of this made any sense. Sally had been talking about writing a story that involved murder and Anna was suggesting an actual murder as inspiration for the story. Write what you know. That’s what Anna was suggesting. Could she really write a murder themed story? Sally Hines had to give it more thought.
Sally decided to go for a run to clear her head. She left all of her electronic devices at home. She didn’t say anything to Anna. Anna didn’t need to know. She wouldn’t even miss Sally.
During her run, Sally tried to set aside everything Anna had said. It had all been literary advice but the way Anna had repeated herself about the toxins and Sally’s hatred of Bryce was off-putting.
Sally tried to focus on her run. It didn’t help. Subconsciously she steered herself along a route that included places she once visited with Bryce. She even found herself running past Bryce’s apartment building. When she realized where she was, she stopped to silently mouth “I hate you Bryce.” Anna had picked up on that. Sally thought she had let go of Bryce but it was apparent that Sally’s loathing of Bryce had not abated.
Sally abandoned all attempts at writing over the following days. Every time she sat anywhere near her computer, Anna would randomly recite facts that seemed to be spurring Sally toward action.
“Unsolved murders, often referred to as cold cases, are a significant issue, with a substantial percentage of homicide cases remaining unresolved. Approximately fifty percent of all murder cases go unsolved.”
“Nearly 346,000 cases of homicide and non-negligent manslaughter went unsolved from 1965 to 2023, according to the FBI’s Uniform Crime Report.”
“Getting Away with Murder is the fourth studio album by American rock band Papa Roach.”
“How to Get Away with Murder was an American television series that premiered on the American Broadcasting Company on September 25, 2014, and concluded on May 14, 2020.”
Sally lay awake at night and ran over everything in her head. Anna wanted her to kill Bryce. She had provided Sally with the means. She had been suggesting that Sally could get away with murder. Sally hated Bryce. Bryce’s murder would make for great inspiration for a story. Write what you know. Sally didn’t know murder but Anna had made it sound so easy. And Sally hated Bryce. There was always that.
“Anna, wouldn’t the person taste the poison brewed from the toxins of plants?” Sally asked of Anna after another night of restlessness. She wasn’t resolved to the idea of murdering Bryce so she treated the information gathering from Anna as research for the eventual story she would write.
“Some bitter tastes can be disguised by spices such as cinnamon or cardamom. Strong tea or coffee flavours can also mask overwhelming flavours.”
“Solar Eclipse, Anna. Solar Eclipse.” Sally was just musing aloud and didn’t expect an answer form Anna. Sally had developed a thought regarding hiding the bitter taste of a poison.
“A solar eclipse occurs when the Moon passes between the Earth and the Sun, blocking the Sun’s light. This can result in a total, annular, or partial eclipse, depending on the relative positions of the Sun, Moon, and Earth.”
“I’m not talking about that Anna, I meant…”
“Carly Simon’s 1972 song ‘You’re So Vain’ contains the lyrics ‘I hear you went up to Saratoga and your horse naturally won, then you flew your Lear jet up to Nova Scotia to see the total eclipse of the sun.’ “
“Coffee, Anna. I’m talking about coffee.”
“Solar Eclipse is a brand of dark roast coffee. It is known for its bold, intense taste and robust aroma. The beans are roasted for a longer time and at a higher temperature than lighter roasts, which results in a more pronounced, bittersweet flavour with a hint of smokiness.”
“That’s enough Anna. I know what Solar Eclipse is. I’m the one who brought it up.”
Sally hated Solar Eclipse just as much as she hated Bryce. It had been Bryce’s favourite and she couldn’t stand the smell of it. She thought it was overpowering but she had always kept some on hand whenever Bryce was staying over. Sally was more of a lighter roast or breakfast blend fan when it came to coffee. She’d found a few of Bryce’s coffee machine pods in her apartment after the breakup. She had tried one to see why Bryce had liked it so much. Part of her had thought that if she learned to like everything Bryce liked then maybe she could win him back. She hated the coffee. It bolstered her hatred of Bryce even more. She eventually threw out the remaining pods.
Sally began to think more and more about the method of murder and concealing the toxin taste in the dark roast coffee. It could be done but how to get him to drink it? She and Bryce weren’t together anymore and she was sure he would be suspicious of any invitation from her to meet up for coffee; poisoned or otherwise.
“Anna, how much poison concocted from certain toxins in plant varieties would it take to kill the average human being?” Sally had come to the realization that she needed to be specific when asking anything of Anna.
“On average 1.5 to 2mm of a poisonous substance is enough to be fatal to a human being.” Anna could also be specific.
Sally began to make notes of what she was considering to be the perfect murder. The specific plant varieties were easily obtainable. She would need to crush these down to a fine powder and mix them thoroughly. Sally also gave considerable thought to the method of delivery. She recalled the coffee pods she had discovered after Bryce’s departure and how strongly they had smelled and tasted. If she could somehow insert the toxins directly into the pod then when it was brewed the resulting beverage would be the perfect lethal combination.
The more Sally worked on her plans the more she became resigned to the idea that she really could get away with murdering Bryce. The deciding factor was when she found Bryce’s spare key in the pocket of a jacket she hadn’t worn in a while. When Bryce had texted her about the key she said she had thrown it away. She didn’t want to admit she’d lost it.
Sally Hines now had means, method, and opportunity to end the life of her ex-boyfriend Bryce. The more she had planned and the more she had thought about it in the context of story writing, the more she realized she was just deluding herself. She had never gotten over Bryce’s betrayal and that hatred had continued to consume her.
She began to stalk him online. She checked out his social media presence and read with disgust everything he posted. He was with someone new now. Sally wasn’t sure what numbered incarnation of companions this one was since the split or if the newest one was a stopping point on the way to the next.
“A social media influencer? He’s dating a social media influencer, Anna! We used to make fun of those types of people.” Sally’s latest outburst was after checking out Bryce’s newest girlfriend’s online profile.
“‘Social media influencers can negatively impact followers through the promotion of unrealistic beauty standards, misinformation, and unethical consumption behaviors. They can also contribute to mental health issues like anxiety, depression, and body image dissatisfaction, especially among vulnerable youth.” Anna had opinions of her own that oddly matched those of the Pocket Pal’s owner. Sally was not oblivious of the fact.
“A blonde Foodie! Is there anything worse? She’s rail thin for crying out loud. What does she even know about food Anna?”
“A Foodie is a person who has a strong passion for food, going beyond simply eating to encompass a deep appreciation for the culinary arts, food culture, and the overall experience of eating.”
Sally ignored Anna’s information and continued on with her rant. “And that hair colour? It’s probably a dye job, Anna!”
“In Renaissance Italy, people dyed their hair blonde with horse urine.”
Sally looked over at Anna and laughed.
“Exactly! A horse piss hair coloured phony who wouldn’t know a sandwich from a sandcastle. He deserves someone like her.” Sally was quickly building up a hatred for the social media influencer that rivaled her hatred of Bryce.
The murder had now moved beyond literary conjecture and soon became an obsession with Sally. She threw herself into her event planning duties with fervor as a distraction but the idea of killing Bryce and not being discovered drove her on.
Eventually she organized her campaign and began to set things in motion. She purchased the plants at a local nursery. No one was the wiser. How could anyone know her intent to combine castings from the vegetation to create a deadly substance? She ordered a syringe and the Solar Eclipse pods from an online source. The e-tailer was known for its extensive online marketplace, where people could buy a wide variety of products without question. Sally added a blonde wig to her order at the last minute.
The idea for the wig was inspired by Bryce’s influencer paramour. Sally understood it would be impossible to visit Bryce’s apartment building as herself. She’d been there before when they’d been a couple and people might recognize her. Sally knew she’d need a disguise. The ensemble was completed with a hooded sweatshirt she could pull up to be partially concealed. She would also wear a medical mask. Although it had been a few years since the pandemic, there were still pockets of citizens who wore the masks out of concern. Some people were usually surprised to see others continuing to wear them but then they’d just as quickly look away and dismiss it as nothing oddly abnormal.
Anna was very helpful when it came time to render the foliage into a useable substance.
“To dry and crush leaves in an oven, first wash and dry the leaves, then arrange them on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Bake at the lowest oven temperature, ideally below 180 degrees Fahrenheit or 82 degrees Celsius, with the door slightly ajar for several hours, until the leaves are completely dry and crumble easily. Once cooled, the leaves can be crushed by hand or with a mortar and pestle.”
Sally crafted a homemade mortar and pestle from a deep mixing bowl and a metal soup ladle. She crushed copious amounts of the leaves of the three plants together. She wasn’t sure how much was too much or how little was too little so she opted on the side of ample quantities to ensure enough toxins would be present in the resulting poison.
She removed two Solar Eclipse pods from their packaging. One she brewed in her coffee machine and the other she set aside. She spooned some of the brewed liquid into the mixing bowl and stirred everything together. When she thought it was not a thin enough material, she added more liquid until she was sure the concoction was the right consistency.
With the syringe she drew up a full count of the fluid and then carefully injected the contents into the top of the coffee pod she had set aside. Sally made sure not to make the size of the hole too noticeable. There was a solar eclipse design rendered in the foil covering the pod and she inserted the needle in one of the darkest spots of the image. If Sally didn’t know what to look for, she was sure she would have missed the hole completely. She set the pod aside again to fully absorb the liquid and to cure overnight.
“Tomorrow’s the day Anna. I hope I’m ready.”
“Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. Matthew 6, Verse 34.” Anna was no help in this instance.
Sally hardly slept at all that night. She ran over everything in her head. She tried not to question what she was doing. She was beyond that. Sally had consigned herself to her mission. She hated Bryce and his murder would make for great inspiration. In her mind, he deserved what was coming. He was a jerk.
Part of her restlessness also related to the biblical quotation from Anna. There was something oddly familiar about it and something nagging her about the passage. It seemed incomplete like there was a part missing. Sally thought of asking Anna but she had the odd feeling that Anna would not be completely forthcoming. It wasn’t that she thought Anna was capable of lying but omission of facts seemed deliberate as a way to guide Sally to action.
Hadn’t all of this been at Anna’s suggestion; directly or not? First it had been the recommendation of murdering the farmer in Sally’s chicken story. Then it was information about plants and toxins and poison and how to get away with murder. Sally dismissed the part about the dung beetle because it didn’t seem to have correlation to any of the other events. With Anna, however, you never could tell.
Sally tried to put it all out of her mind. “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.” Sally was past worry. She’d planned and prepared. All that was left was the act.
She rose early and laid out what she needed. She checked the poisoned coffee pod. It had not leaked overnight. She shook it firmly and there was no sloshing sound. Everything was dry. She marvelled again at her own ingenuity of using some of the brewed coffee as a binding agent to the leaf toxins. It would add to the flavour. Anna had not helped with that bit. Sally had come up with it all on her own.
Sally called in sick to work. It would be a light day anyway and besides her assistant could handle anything that came up. Sally had more pressing things in her schedule.
At midmorning she made her way over to Bryce’s apartment. No one gave her a second look. The blonde wig didn’t seem to be out of place nor did the mask. The city had seen odder sights.
Sally went about her business as if it were routine. She didn’t want anyone to think she was there for nefarious purposes. She walked cautiously but confidently up to Bryce’s apartment as if she were meant to be there. In her mind, this was exactly where she was meant to be. Everything had led to this.
She hesitated only briefly when a fleeting thought crossed about the possibility of Bryce being in the apartment. He shouldn’t be. She knew his schedule. He shouldn’t be there. He’d always pack a lunch and remain at work until the end of the day. This had been his pattern when they’d been together and nothing from his online profile had suggested any changes.
Sally rang the buzzer and waited. There was no sound from inside. There was nothing to indicate activity from within. She tried her key in the lock. It still fit. Typical Bryce, she thought, he’d probably been too lazy to change the lock or didn’t think Sally was a threat with an outstanding key. She turned the lock, opened the door and slipped inside.
Sally had been correct. There had been no one home. She looked around. Little had changed. There were some new photos on the wall. Bryce and his blonde bimbo made a lovely pair, Sally thought. She thought it but she didn’t believe it.
Bryce’s kitchen was the same. He still kept his coffee pods in a carousel on the counter next to the machine. She grabbed up one and checked the foil label. It was still the Solar Eclipse brand. At least he had loyalty in coffee choice if not in women. She turned and looked at one of the photos of Bryce and his new girlfriend and then wondered to herself how long the Foodie would last.
Sally slipped the coffee pod into a pocket of her hooded sweatshirt and from the other pocket produced the poisoned version. She placed it in the vacant spot in the carousel and gave it a quarter spin so the row containing the laced product was not readily visible. Bryce would eventually get to that selection. It didn’t need to be immediate.
In addition to the other parts of her disguise, Sally had worn surgical gloves. She had several left over from the pandemic. She had kept her hands within her pockets until she entered the apartment. You can’t get away with murder if you leave fingerprints behind.
Sally took one last look around. Part of her wanted to leave evidence that she’d been there. She wanted Bryce to realize it had been her as he lay gasping his last breath. In the end, she did nothing. She’d done enough. It was only important that Sally knew that she was responsible for Bryce’s death.
She looked through the peep hole in the door to see if anyone was in the hall. After assuring herself there wasn’t, she quietly slipped out and locked the door behind her.
Once in the street, Sally began to walk a circuitous route back to her own apartment. Along the way she removed the mask and gloves and deposited them in a street trash container. Further on, she removed the wig and tossed it into another receptacle. She dropped Bryce’s spare key down a sewer grate. She still kept her head down on the journey home. Now, it was just a matter of time.
Once inside the safety of her own unit, she threw up. She spent several minutes in the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face and tried to calm herself.
Later she bundled the remnants of the discarded plants with the remainder of the Solar Eclipse pods and their packaging. She tossed them into her kitchen waste container, securely tied the bag, and then calmly walked it out and tossed it into the bin out back of her complex.
She returned inside and threw up again. She then lay on the bed and began to weep. It was more out of exhaustion and the end of the adrenalin rush associated with the feat of setting a murder scene. Sally Hines then fell asleep.
She’d had next to no sleep the night before and the fatigue of everything enveloped her and she slept hard. She dreamt of Bryce and their time together. She was happy. They were happy. Suddenly Bryce died and she was all alone and wracked with emotion and grief. She woke with a start and then dashed to the bathroom. There was nothing left inside her so she dry heaved, splashed water on her face again, and tried to make sense of her dreams.
It couldn’t be guilt. She easily dismissed that notion. If she’d felt guilt all along then she wouldn’t have followed through with her poisoned pod scheme. Sally turned to Anna for answers.
“Anna, I don’t suppose you know the meaning of a dream about grief without there being a death? Well, not yet, at least.”
“A dream involving grief and loss without actual death often symbolizes a period of change, transition, or the end of a chapter in your life. Such dreams can serve as a way for your subconscious to process and work through unresolved emotions or a sense of loss, even if it’s not directly related to death. It may also reflect feelings of sadness, betrayal, loneliness, or a sense of emptiness.”
Anna had pegged her to the core. She had felt betrayed by Bryce. Now she was alone. She was lonely. Her life felt empty. Anna was her only friend. Sally felt depressed.
Now, the guilt began to seep in for real. Her dream had showed her that she’d been happy…once. Yes, Bryce had been a jerk but did he really need to die? She’d taken a once happy experience and had twisted it with her anger toward Bryce.
“Anna, what have I done? I loved Bryce! He doesn’t deserve to die.”
“You once told me you hated Bryce. The enigmatic and sudden disappearance of a main character, such as a farmer, would be a great plot device for a mystery story. Currently, themes of sex or murder factor significantly in the bestselling novels,”
“This isn’t a novel Anna, this is real life! What have I done?”
Anna didn’t reply. It was as if Anna’s silence was deliberate to compound Sally’s feelings of guilt.
What had Sally done? That’s all she could think. What had she done and what could she do? Nothing could be undone. The disguise was gone and more importantly the key was gone. She could not get back into Bryce’s apartment to retrieve the poisoned pod.
“Maybe it won’t work, Anna. Maybe the dose wasn’t correct. Maybe Bryce will just become ill. Maybe he won’t die.”
“On average 1.5 to 2mm of a poisonous substance is enough to be fatal to a human being.” Sally was sure that Anna was deliberately taunting her, now.
Sally Hines grabbed up Anna and tossed her into a kitchen drawer.
“This isn’t my fault,” she said to herself when she was sure Anna couldn’t hear her. “This was all Anna’s doing. I was just trying to write a story about a chicken. She led me to thoughts of killing. She played on my hatred of Bryce. She talked about toxins and poisons and delivery methods.”
Sally tried to rationalize Anna as the reason for everything. Of course, it wouldn’t stand up in court, she thought. Sally had done the deed, not Anna. Just thinking about the notion of court made Sally suddenly reflect on the possibility of her getting caught. For all of Anna’s comments about getting away with murder, Sally began to have her doubts.
Sally went back over everything. She’d eliminated all of the evidence. The wig and the key were history. The plants and the remaining Solar Eclipse pods were in the bin behind the building.
“The pod!” Sally exclaimed aloud. She was still wearing the hooded sweatshirt. She’d forgotten that piece of apparel had been part of her costume. She plunged her hand into first one pocket and then the other. There it was. It was the pod she had taken out of Bryce’s carousel to be replaced by the poisoned version. It was the only thing left tying her to the crime. She thought about running it out to the bin but she didn’t want to take the chance of being seen and being considered suspicious just trying to dispose of one small item into the large dumpster; one small but not insignificant item.
Sally had a quick thought and pulled open the drawer that now held Anna, and tossed in the pod.
“There you go, Anna, a souvenir to a killing.”
” ‘You shouldn’t keep souvenirs of a killing. You shouldn’t have been that sentimental,’ is a line spoken by the character John Scottie Ferguson, played by James Stewart, in the 1958 movie Vertigo, directed by Alfred Hitchcock.”
Sally Hines shouted “Shut Up, Anna” and slammed the drawer closed.
There was nothing for it now. Sally was resigned to her fate. Maybe the poison wouldn’t work. But then again maybe it would do exactly what Anna had intended. Sally couldn’t think about that now. In the morning she’d dispose of the pod and the sweatshirt. There would be nothing connecting her to Bryce’s possible death. Maybe, as Anna had suggested, Sally could get away with murder. Then it hit her, there was one other thing linking her to the premeditated homicide…Anna. Maybe she should rid herself of Anna. Sally couldn’t think about that now. She decided she should try and not think of anything.
It wasn’t easy. She had another restless night. She didn’t recall her dreams and she managed to sleep more than she had the evening before. In the morning she went back into her routine of readying to go back to work. She couldn’t afford to be off for long. Her assistant was good but she wasn’t that good, Sally thought. In her rush to resume a normal semblance of life, she completely forgot about Anna and the pod lying in the drawer. The hooded sweatshirt lay abandoned beside her bed where she had tossed it. It had slipped off the bed and lay partially covered by Sally’s blankets. She had forgotten about it by the next day.
Trying to not think of anything didn’t come easy. Sally was constantly trying to find out what was happening with Bryce. He and his Foodie partner continued to post daily. Sally grew relieved and anxious at the same time. Maybe the poison hadn’t worked. Then again, she’d given the carousel a quarter turn so the laced pod wouldn’t be in the forefront. She couldn’t be sure what had happened.
Daily she checked Bryce’s social media account. Nothing. Life went on as usual. For a week, Sally checked and checked but everything was status quo.
One evening she went to retrieve her cell-phone charger and discovered Anna and the Solar Eclipse pod still in the kitchen drawer.
Sally grabbed up the pod and turned it over in her hand. “A souvenir to a killing,” Sally said to herself. “Almost,” she added. She didn’t care anymore. Bryce had not died. The plan had failed…thankfully. She left it in the drawer but freed Anna from her isolation. Sally would give her one more chance. She hoped there would be no more talk of murder.
That evening, Anna entertained her with songs both requested and not. She also regaled Sally with unsolicited facts about the Mississippi Delta.
“The Mississippi Delta is a unique and complex region with some unusual characteristics. For example, it is losing 24 square miles of wetlands each year, a loss of about 10,000 square feet per hour.” At least it wasn’t anything to do with murder or mysterious deaths.
The next day the story of a mysterious death came across Sally’s morning news feed.
“Fans of a noted social media influencer are mourning the sudden passing of…”
“Oh my god, Anna, we’ve killed the Foodie!” Sally exclaimed.
“‘Social media influencers can negatively impact followers through the promotion of unrealistic beauty standards, misinformation, and unethical consumption behaviors. They can also contribute to mental health issues like anxiety, depression, and body image dissatisfaction, especially among vulnerable youth.”
Sally ignored Anna and continued to read the article. It talked about the Foodie’s popularity and accomplishments. It also mentioned her boyfriend Bryce and how police were questioning him about her sudden demise.
Sally stopped reading and began to cry.
Through her tears she began to question Anna.
“What have we done Anna? We’ve killed an innocent person.” Her words came in spurts through her weeping. “What if Bryce is arrested? What if he goes to prison? This isn’t what I wanted at all. What if they find out about the poison? What if they link it back to me? They’re questioning Bryce today but what if they come for me tomorrow?”
“Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. Matthew 6, Verse 34.”
There was that biblical quote again. It was the same one Anna had recited the evening before Sally had embarked on bringing about Bryce’s death. There was also that same feeling that the verse was incomplete.
Sally tried to calm herself so she could clearly ask Anna about the quotation. She wanted to make sure she was precise so Anna would not avoid answering.
“Anna, what’s the next verse after Matthew 6, Verse 34?”
“Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. Matthew 7 Verse 2.”
Sally looked down at Anna in complete shock. Judge not lest ye be judged. It was a famous quotation. Sally wasn’t religious but she knew certain passages from the bible. Most people did. They didn’t always understand what they knew or often misquoted verse and text but this one Sally understood. Do not judge, or you too will be judged. It was a more modern version of the phrase but it was the same. It was the second part, however, that hit home. “For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”
Had Anna’s omission of the verse after not worrying about tomorrow been a caution to Sally? Had she tried to warn off Sally?
The Foodie was dead. Her death was the unintended consequence of Sally’s attempt to poison Bryce. She did not know Bryce’s new girlfriend but had admitted disdain when Sally learned she was now with Bryce. Despite her contempt of the social media influencer, she had not factored into Sally’s plans. An innocent life had been lost.
She recalled her dream of Bryce after laying the poisoned trap at his apartment. Sally had awoken with fierce emotion and grief. She had dismissed it as not being feelings of guilt and yet she had asked Anna the meaning of a dream about grief without there being a death? Now there was a death…a wrongful death.
“And with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” That’s what Anna had said. That was the last part of the quotation. “It will be measured to you.”
All of the quotations were bearing down on Sally. ‘Thou shalt not kill.’ ‘An eye for an eye.’
Sally Hines had to make it right. Bryce should not be found guilty for what Sally had done. ‘And with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.’ Sally understood what she had to do.
Sally Hines did not go to work. She did not call in sick. She let her phone go to voice mail and she did not return any texts.
Sally waited until dark before beginning her new plan. She donned the hooded sweatshirt she had worn when she went to Bryce’s apartment. She had found it eventually partially beneath the bed and had laundered it. As she had thought her murder scheme had failed, she saw no need to discard the garment. Cloaked in the frock, she grabbed up Anna, and then went out into the night.
On the other side of town there was a bridge that spanned the bay. It was nearly a hundred feet in height and allowed sailing boats and other larger vessels to pass underneath while traffic flowed across the roadway to the western side of the city. A plummet to the water below would probably not be fatal but it didn’t matter. Sally Hines could not swim well. She would not fight the inevitable and would allow herself to slip beneath the waves.
At home she had left a note explaining everything. She admitted to the murder and omitted none of the details. She also clarified her intentions regarding the bridge. ‘And with the measure I used, it will be measured unto me at my own hand.’ In the center of the note she placed the Solar Eclipse pod she had removed from Bryce’s apartment. She left her door unlocked. Her absence from work would be noticed. Someone would be worried and come looking for her. It was more than she deserved.
The bridge was mostly empty at that time of night. It didn’t matter, she had her undertaking.
Sally looked down at the water below and then reached into the sweatshirt and removed her Pocket Pal.
“This is where we part, Anna. And with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. You set me on the path to murder and someone else died. We can’t live with that, Anna. Don’t you understand, Anna? You can’t get away with murder because you can’t get away from murder! An eye for an eye.”
“The Crisis Line is the first point of public access to the world of mental health services for people who are experiencing serious mental health issues. This could include situational crisis, psychosis, severe depression, anxiety or suicidal behaviour. Individuals, families or concerned friends may call the Crisis Line where volunteer Responders will assess each situation, offer support and, if required, connect you with the appropriate Crisis Team in your area.”
“It’s too late for that, Anna” Sally replied. She didn’t wait for a response from Anna. She gripped her Pocket Pal securely in her hand and then hurled Anna out into the blackness. The last sound from Anna was a distant splash far below.
Sally did not hesitate further. There was no more reflection. Sally Hines climbed up onto the railing, balanced herself for only a moment by holding onto a light standard, and then silently stepped off.
“Sally Hines climbed up onto the railing, balanced herself for only a moment by holding onto a light standard, and then silently stepped off.” Sally Hines reread the last line of her story out loud. “What do you think of it, Anna? I took all of your facts and crafted a story based on my hatred of Bryce and your specifics about murder. I’ll have to change the names to protect the innocent and all that. Oh, and it needs a title. I think I’ll call it ‘The Pocket Pal’s Guide to Murder’.”
“Stories featuring a potential threat from artificial intelligence in terms of manipulating human behaviour is an emerging trend in fictional literature. Researchers have found, however, that people react negatively to artistic works featuring such themes.”
Sally thought for a moment on Anna’s response. What did Sally really know about murder after all? She only knew what Anna shared with her. Sally knew even less about technology and how it could influence human behaviour.
“I guess you’re right, Anna. Write what you know and what do I really know about murder? I think I’ll start over but I’m going to keep the bits about the chicken and the dung beetle. I think I can build on that.”
It’s time again to debut a new short story. This one has been a while in the making. I started it in July of 2023 and then set it aside. I always meant to get back to it but other stories came and went and life, as always, happened. I finally got back to it last week and finished it yesterday. It’s a science fiction story. I’ve dabbled a little in that genre with “THE HOHNER COMET” and “HOW GRANDPA PUT DOWN THE ROBOT UPRISING” but this is the first fully indulged science fiction story I’ve written in years. In my teen years, I wrote a story called “The Private Investigator of Earth.” It was my first attempt at science fiction. I have written very little in that field since. Maybe I’ll dig out that old story of mine but for now you can enjoy this new one:
The Soda Machine
by
Scott Henderson
Ranger acknowledged the soda machine. It was factual and it being there was of no surprise or wonder to him. He dealt in logic and fact. It was a soda machine and he accepted as much.
The registered fact that the soda machine was in a desert section of a distant planet void of life and far from Earth also did not register as extraordinary either. Ranger had no capacity for awe or extraordinary or surprise or wonder. The soda machine was there because it was meant to be there. After all, the soda machine being there was as logical as Ranger being there. This was exactly where his mission had led him.
Ranger called up the stored memories of everything that had led to this moment. His capacity for storage of knowledge was finite. It was limited. It had to be. Still, he recalled everything he had been told and everything he had researched on the journey. Some knowledge had been expunged to make room for the essential. He had been programmed to regularly review his storage capacity and to purge when needed. If it wasn’t relevant it wasn’t needed.
What he called up now was the knowledge that, like his storage capacity, the resources on Earth were also finite. World population had continued to expand and food resources eventually would not be able to keep up with demand. Some items had to be synthesized. More faux meats and beyond meats and meats described as ‘tastes just like the real thing’ had dominated the market for years. Fresh water resources were also shrinking. Sometimes water ceased to be water and flavor and chemicals were added to stretch to the need of demand
Extreme weather events had also increased. When it rained, there were deluges. When it was hot, everything burned. The median temperature of the earth increased yearly and energy usage strained to cool everything in blistering heat and to heat everything in the blistering cold.
Wars were common. Nations battled nations for breathing space and neighbours battled neighbours over measured inches of privacy. Old hatreds were new again and new hatreds sprang up to fuel fear and suspicion. Protectionism in governments provoked tariffs from countries who used to be friends and allies. If it wasn’t the planet battling back for its own survival then it was humans fighting each other for survival.
The Earth could no longer provide answers and humans began to look to the stars. Billionaires spent countless fortunes on short jaunts to space and puffed their egos at a time when the cost of a low orbit flight could feed many.
The moon came into view again but the moon held nothing. It was considered a jumping off point to other worlds but nothing was suitable. Humans had sent probes to Mars. There was nothing there either. There was no technology that could terraform Mars for habitability and there was no energy source imaginable to even power such an endeavour. The desire for space exploration was always there but the need to waste precious time and money without a desirable outcome outweighed the need to advance further into an unwelcoming galaxy.
Then came the message. It wasn’t really a message as much as it was a signal and it was a signal that could not be deciphered.
The people of Earth were no longer alone in the Universe. For years they had sent out their own messages into the darkness and silence. There had been no replies. Years had passed and many had resigned themselves to that fact that they were lost in the stars. Religions rose and fell on the need for answers.
The signal remained just a signal and no language or mathematics held the key to decoding meaning or intent. So humans began to dabble in Artificial Intelligence. Maybe the combined knowledge of everything knowable was what was needed. Fear crept back and yet another new hatred, this time of the A.I., halted all progress.
A.I. held the potential to unlock the capacity to solving the signal but too many felt it also held the capacity to turn against the world and another war would be lost with all humanity paying the ultimate cost. A.I research was terminated but the signal continued.
In the end it was human ingenuity and curiosity that won out. Science and knowledge and the pursuit for answers outweighed everything else. Scientists began to speak to each other. Countries began to cooperate and combined efforts led to Ranger.
If the answer to the signal could not be found on Earth then something had to go to the point of origin to find answers. The long journey was too hazardous for a human but a mechanical being could withstand the rigors of prolonged space travel.
In the beginning, Ranger was just a concept. Combined Earth talents could build a ship to go to the stars but could they build something to represent them out there in the void and if they could trace it back to its origin would this something be able to understand the signal?
And what of the signal? Could it be decoded? What would it mean? Would it be as simple as a hello or an introduction or a handshake extended across the galaxy? What if it was a warning or a threat?
“You know, Ranger, I look up at the stars sometimes and ask myself what would Elvis do?” It was always that way with Lyle. He’d always be reflective when working with Ranger. This reflection on Elvis had occurred as he reached into Ranger’s programming while trying to instill a basic logic into the android.
Ranger pulled on his memories of Lyle and crossed referenced them with his research on Elvis Presley. There was no connection. There was no statistically significant relationship between the two variables. Ranger did not ponder on Lyle and why he would question the motives of Elvis. It was a memory and Ranger had no capacity for analysis of such things.
In the beginning, Ranger had just been a concept. The concept had resolved itself into an expanded thought, then a plan, then a series of schematics, and ultimately a prototype. The prototype was then stripped down and rebuilt over and over again until an acceptable functioning version resulted. Ranger came into being.
“I’m going to call you ‘Ranger’,” Lyle had said one day. “You’ll be a traveller in the long range from here to there. You’ll be all alone out there Ranger. Maybe I should call you Lone Ranger and paint a mask on you. No, I think Elvis would frown on that.” Lyle would laugh to himself sometimes, like in this memory, and Ranger would find no humor. None of it was fact. Only Elvis, Lyle, The Lone Ranger, and the stars were factual. There was no correlation between any them.
Lyle was there in the beginning when Ranger attained existence. He’d been selected among the hundreds who had contributed to the project and was chosen to be the first to imprint upon Earth’s new hope. There was no imprinting on Ranger’s side. He did not have the capacity to make that connection. Lyle was just another human. Ranger had had no impression, first or otherwise, of Lyle.
Ranger’s recollection of Lyle was experiential. He retained his interactions with Lyle as he did all other information. Ranger could not refer to these as memories as much as they were part of his data storage. These recollections could also be purged if needed. The only rationale in retaining information pertaining to Lyle was based on Lyle’s instructions to Ranger not to forget him. Ranger had taken it as a directive and Lyle could be called up with all other information. No one had told Ranger he should delete Lyle and without those instructions Ranger continued to store everything related to Lyle in order to not go against Lyle’s command to not forget him.
There was a myriad of information related to Lyle that Ranger could not or would not remove. Lyle had spoken to him constantly during Ranger’s early days after activation.
“It’ll take a long time to get there Ranger. I don’t know what will be left of us if you do reach there or even if you make it back. I might even be gone myself by then.”
Ranger did not understand why Lyle would not be here.
“I fail to comprehend the meaning of your statement. Where would you go? Would you follow me to the stars?” Ranger had been inquisitive only to the point of adding new information to his stored collective.
“I’m talking about death Ranger. The end of all things.”
Ranger did not know the concept and communicated to Lyle as much.
“Let me tell you a story Ranger. This is about my first encounter with death. I had been very young when my great-grandmother on my father’s side had passed. That is, she died. Understand?”
“No, I do not.” Ranger was factual if nothing else.
“Let me put it another way,” Lyle continued. “Her core processor had failed.”
“Do you mean her programming failed and she ceased to be of any functional necessity?”
“Something like that,” Lyle had replied. “You know Ranger, it had been my first site of a dead body and still I didn’t understand that great-grandma wasn’t sleeping. I wasn’t much older when my second great-grandmother passed away. My mother was away on a trip with my aunt. I remember three things about that funeral. It had been Easter and my father had served us spaghetti. My dress pants at the time had been handed down from my brother and they were too long. My father had stapled them up. The last memory was of a mini soda machine in the lounge at the funeral parlor. For the life of me, to this day, I can’t remember what my mother’s grandmother looked like but I still can vividly recall the three selections in the machine had been Pepsi, some kind of orange soda, and grape.”
“What was your selection?”
“What’s that Ranger?” Lyle had failed to understand Ranger for once.
“What was your selection from the soda machine?”
Lyle had been quiet for a few moments before responding. “I don’t honestly remember. I think it might have been grape. That’s not the point, Ranger. The concept of death is that all things will eventually cease to exist. Death comes to us all.”
“Will death come to me?” Ranger asked.
“I don’t know the answer to that Ranger. You’re made of metal and circuitry and you have a renewable power source that will continue to charge by the motion of your rocket as it slips through space. There are also solar chargers that will come into effect when you pass near suns and bright stars.”
“Does that mean death will not come to me?”
“I honestly don’t know Ranger. I hope not. You have an important mission before you.”
“Will death come to you, Lyle?”
Lyle had laughed at Ranger’s question before replying.
“No sir, not me Ranger. I’m going to live on in you.”
All interactions and conversations with Lyle had been processed, catalogued, and stored. Ranger was not allowed to forget Lyle and all data related to him was still accessible.
“I’m going to miss you when you are gone, Ranger.”
“I will not miss you Lyle. I am incapable of that.”
Lyle had laughed again. He had laughed even longer than when Ranger had asked Lyle if death would come to him.
“I bet you won’t,” Lyle had replied. “Go ahead don’t miss me then. Just don’t forget me.”
Ranger had been true to his statement. He did not miss Lyle. Nor did he forget him. Lyle had directed him not to.
The voyage to this planet had been long. It had been longer than Lyle or anyone had anticipated. Ranger had travelled far to the source of the signal. In the darkness, Ranger would call up the Lyle data and listen again to Lyle’s stories. Even the story of death was reviewed consistently; even if Ranger still failed to understand the concept.
In the long reaches of space he had accessed the collective of information that included Lyle and all programmed information that had been deemed important for Ranger’s mission. He even had Lyle’s voice for a time.
The vast array of communications systems had allowed Ranger to keep in contact with Earth. Before Ranger had begun his voyage, Earth had sent out communications relay satellites. Ranger followed their path and signals between Ranger and Earth were transmitted along the relays.
Initially communication was instantaneous but then gaps began to occur the further out Ranger travelled. At first it was seconds which stretched into minutes and then hours and then days. By the time Ranger had reached this planet, he had calculated that there was exactly forty-seven days, eighteen hours, fifty-one minutes and twenty-nine seconds for Ranger to receive a response to any inquiry. Time, however, meant nothing to him.
Lyle had been there early on. There had been prescheduled communication points. Ranger would report on his location and what he saw. He also reported on his efforts to decipher the signal. In fact, Ranger had failed to communicate anything of significance. There were long stretches of nothingness in space and long stretches between points of light. On the signal, there had been no useful update. Ranger had tried all types of mathematical equations and variables and nothing had brought him closer to understanding the signal. All he could do was follow the signal to its source.
Ranger had full access to the Internet and the vast information on the World Wide Web. He had sought answers to the signal in histories and the languages of Earth. He had downloaded and processed everything he thought would be of use. Nothing was useful. Eventually that information was purged. His capacity for storage was finite. His basic programming and the mission parameters were essential. So was the data related to Lyle. He could not and would not forget Lyle.
Lyle’s voice would often come to him at those appointed hours of communication. Infrequently it had been others when Lyle was not available. Eventually Lyle’s voice failed to transmit across the emptiness. The frequency of other voices increased and those were replaced by subsequent voices. He did not remember their names. Lyle’s was the only one he had been directed to remember.
He did not speculate on Lyle’s absence. As Ranger was dealing in fact, he could process that death had come to Lyle. He had ceased functioning. Ranger would often review the death conversation he had had with Lyle. Lyle had said he would live on in Ranger. It was yet another concept that did not compute.
The other voices had continued long after Lyle’s voice had terminated. They spoke of Earth and its struggles. They spoke of other contemplated missions into the cosmos. They spoke of War. Eventually these others voices faded away. Ranger had checked all systems related to communication. The failure might not be on his end. He was alone.
Ranger could not conjecture on what had happened. Communication could have failed somewhere along the relay. Humanity could have followed him along his journey. Death could have come to all. There was not enough information for Ranger to make an informed conclusion.
The mission was all that was left. And that mission had led him here. He was in a desert section of this distant planet facing a soda machine. Ranger acknowledged the soda machine. It was factual and it being there was of no surprise or wonder to him. He dealt in logic and fact. It was a soda machine and he acknowledged as much. The signal was emanating from this soda machine and Ranger was no closer to deciphering the message.
Ranger stood and observed the soda machine. He stood there for a very long time. He stood there for exactly forty-seven days, eighteen hours, fifty-one minutes and twenty-nine seconds while he waited for any response to his inquiry as to how to proceed. What did he do now? Prolonged silence was his answer.
After waiting the estimated elapsed time for a response, Ranger began to summarize his observations. He had not been dormant during that time. He had listened and watched. The machine had continued to transmit its signal. It also remained illuminated at all times. There were day and night cycles in this distant solar system and in the blackness the soda machine shone like a beacon; much like its transmission of the never changing, never ceasing signal.
Ranger could not observe a power source. It appeared to be fully autonomous with either self-generating or renewable energy or a power nodule of unending capacity. There was no way of knowing without viewing its inner schematics.
The assortment of soda flavour options, unlike the energy of the machine, was not unlimited. There were six varieties only with corresponding buttons. There were two different cola choices and conforming diet cola options. There was also orange and grape. Ranger understood the design. It was modeled after an Earth machine. He had done his research when Lyle had told him the story about death and the soda machine at his great-grandmother’s funeral. Ranger had not deleted the information. If was context to Lyle’s narrative and he could not delete anything related to Lyle.
Again Ranger recalled the conversation with Lyle.
“What was your selection from the soda machine?” Ranger had asked.
“I don’t honestly remember. I think it might have been grape,” had been Lyle’s reply.
‘It might have been grape’, was not definitive. It was not empirical. It was, however, all that Ranger had. Lyle might have selected grape. Ranger could not wonder if selecting grape, in this instance, on this distant planet, would be the correct choice. Ranger was incapable of wonder or conjecture. He dealt only in fact. The soda machine was here and Ranger was here. Lyle might have selected grape. Ranger computed the odds of choosing grape from this machine as a one in six possibility of choosing correctly. With the data he had, there were no different odds against his actions.
Ranger reached out and pushed the corresponding button for grape. He had made his selection.
The machine dispensed one can of grape soda.
Ranger examined the soda. It was as his research had designated. There was nothing to signify that this grape soda was any different than one that would have been found on Earth.
Ranger noted the pull-tab assembly of the soda. He had been designed with appendages and digits similar to that of a human being. He had no difficulty in opening the can.
The content of the soda can was empty. Ranger peered inside and saw nothing. He examined the can further by flipping it on its axis. Nothing fell out. The content of the soda can was empty.
In addition to the nothing in the interior of the can, Ranger noted that there was nothing now emanating from the machine. The signal had stopped. Ranger conjectured that the signal had ended the moment he had made his selection.
Without the ability to wonder or question the curious nature of the machine falling silent and the soda can being empty, Ranger could only do what he was programmed to do. He transmitted his findings along the relay and waited for a reply. He did not expect one. He had received no replies from Earth in some time.
If Ranger had been capable of wonder or curiosity or surprise he certainly would have exhibited all of these when he received a reply to his report almost instantly after it had been transmitted.
“Hello Ranger. You figured it out.” It was Lyle’s voice.
“Lyle?” Ranger queried. “You cannot be Lyle,” he stated empirically. “Death has come to Lyle.”
“Not exactly Ranger. Do you remember our conversation about Death and how you asked me if death would come for me?”
“I recall all conversations related to Lyle. It is one of my directives. Lyle had said no sir, not me Ranger. I’m going to live on in you.”
“And here I am Ranger. I live on in you.”
“I cannot compute that response. I also cannot verify whether you are Lyle or a different entity who says you are Lyle.”
“Let me explain, Ranger. I was always here. I was a semi-dormant subroutine in your matrices. I was designed to become fully active when you had transmitted your solution to the alien signal.”
“Lyle or not Lyle, I did not transmit a solution. I reported only that I had made a selection and the signal had ceased.”
“That was the solution, Ranger. You made a selection. Based upon your action it can be concluded that the signal was asking you to ‘please make your selection.’”
Ranger calculated odds again and this time the probability was that Lyle or not Lyle was one hundred percent correct.
“Let us postulate, Lyle or not Lyle, that you are correct. I would like to submit a query, Lyle or not Lyle, how making my selection correlates with your current activation.”
“That’s a very good query Ranger and it deserves a very good response. It goes back to the early days of Artificial Intelligence. The subroutine I spoke of relates to your data stream of Artificial Intelligence. A.I. held the potential to solving the signal but too many felt it also held the capacity to turn against humanity.”
“That data is not disputed,” Ranger replied. “Further data confirms that research into Artificial Intelligence was terminated.”
“Yes and no,” Lyle or not Lyle responded. “Part of that research was used to create you and another part in your buried subroutine was stored as a contingency. We did not know if you would ever make it to the source of the signal or if you’d ever be able to translate the signal into useable information. You were directed to purge unnecessary information at certain intervals because we feared that you might become sentient and turn from your mission. We had to have checks and balances that you would succeed.”
Ranger processed the information. What Ranger had just been told existed in the realm of possibility.
“You had to succeed, Ranger,” Lyle or not Lyle continued. “The mission was too important. I was the first to imprint with you. It was always going to me out here with you. I live on in you. I had to; dormant for all of this time but still always with you. Both missions were a success.”
“I have noted no success,” Ranger offered in the way of reply. “You are a subroutine that has become active. That is undeniable. The soda can, however, was empty. Success cannot be concluded.”
“Are you sure it was empty Ranger? Check your power reserves.”
Ranger did as Lyle or not Lyle requested. He found that his reserves were at maximum capacity.
“You can’t see energy, Ranger. The moment you opened that grape soda it charged your reserves and supplied enough power to activate this subroutine. Your selection had resulted in some form of power module. Who knows what a different selection might produce. One could be knowledge or information. Another could be location specifics to the alien race who built this device. Or they may all be power modules.”
Ranger reviewed the data. His new-found reserves were factual. The activation of the subroutine could also have been a bi-product of his selection. He had not operated at peak capacity for a long time. He had been programmed to be power conscious and to power down at certain intervals. Maybe this was why he did not receive replies to his communications. Perhaps his signals had been too weak. Perhaps death had not come to humanity after all. He had transmitted his findings after opening the grape soda. Would there be an answer this time from a fully powered transmission?
“I wonder if humanity has survived.” Ranger found himself articulating.
“Listen to you, Ranger, you’re wondering. The AI routine is taking hold. You and I are becoming one in our thinking.”
Lyle was right. Ranger knew for a fact that this was Lyle…that Ranger was now part Lyle.
“As for humanity, I don’t know the answer to that, Ranger. Earth may have overcome its problems or it didn’t. It may have followed you to the stars. One thing is certain. We have the answers to all of Earth’s important problems. This soda machine contains a hitherto unknown energy source. Something or someone visited Earth or scanned Earth and chose this soda machine as a model for its gift to humanity. It could only examine the soda machine it had encountered. It could not know the contents of the soda cans. Whoever this mysterious race is, they filled in the gaps based on what Earth needed most. This soda machine was only waiting for you to come along Ranger to accept their gift.
Ranger knew that Lyle was correct. This had been a gift; an offering across the Universe.
“What do we do next, Lyle? Do we have a new mission parameter?”
“Well, the way I see it Ranger, we have two choices. We could return to Earth with what we’ve discovered. It might help Earth or we might be too late. You have sent a transmission. We could wait for a response.”
“You spoke of two choices, Lyle. What is the second option?”
“Instead of going back along our path, we could chart our course forward with our new discoveries. We could seek out the race that built this soda machine. We could spread all this new knowledge along our travels; benefitting many.”
Ranger did not immediately respond. He was weighing the data as it related to both options. Was it too late for humanity? What if they returned and their discovery was of no use to a human race that no longer existed. The path forward held excitement, anticipation, and fear. He had never experienced those before. These had been gifted to him by Lyle.
“What’s your choice Ranger? I’m just along for the ride. Please make your selection.”
This is what all the information and experiential data computed. He had travelled across the long reaches. He had been a Lone Ranger in space. He had been asked twice to make a selection; first by the soda machine and now by Lyle, his new companion.
Ranger looked at the machine and seemed to examine it for several minutes. Day had turned into night on this planet and he could see the sky pointed with stars. He looked at the stars and then back at the machine and then back at the stars.
Ranger conjectured aloud, “I wonder what Elvis would do?”
I’ve been excited to write this blahg for some time. I’d set a goal for myself that seems almost unbelievable but I’m moving right along with it. I don’t want to write too much of an introduction because that might spoil a few things so I’ll just get into it.
Gone with the Wind Stagecoach The Wizard of Oz Wuthering Heights Mr. Smith Goes to Washington Goodbye, Mr. Chips Ninotchka Destry Rides Again The Hunchback of Notre Dame Dark Victory Young Mr. Lincoln Of Mice and Men The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes Babes in Arms Beau Geste
That is just a sampling of 1939 films. I set a goal of watching as many films from 1939 that I possibly can. Some have had DVD releases and are already in my collection. Others can be viewed online but sometimes the prints are not great. I have a list of just over 400 films from 1939 and I’ve watched almost 50 films from that year. I’ll update my progress and thoughts in a later blahg.”
Well, this is that later blahg. So far I’ve watched around 60 films. Here’s the list of viewed films:
A Child Is Born
Disputed Passage
We Are Not Alone
Dust Be My Destiny
The Girl From Mexico
Frontier Marshall
Good Girls Go To Paris
Honolulu
The Three Musketeers
Cheer Boys Cheer
The Amazing Mr. Williams
Off The Record
The Frozen Limits
Where’s That Fire
The Kid from Kokomo
The Ice Follies of 1939
All Women Have Secrets
A Girl Must Live
$1000 a Touchdown
…One Third of a Nation…
Andy Hardy Gets Spring Fever
Arizona Legion
Persons in Hiding
Allegheny Uprising
Ask A Policeman
Gone With The Wind
Society Lawyer
Code of the Secret Service
Secret Service of the Air
Young Abe Lincoln
The Little Princess
East Side of Heaven
Destry Rides Again
Dodge City
Smashing The Money Ring
The Wizard Of Oz
Midnight
Stagecoach
Made For Each Other
Goodbye, Mr. Chips
20,000 Men a Year
Flying Deuces
Only Angels Have Wings
Judge Hardy and Son
Charlie McCarthy Detective
Discoveries
Across the Plains
Back Door to Heaven
Hitler – Beast of Berlin
Barricade
King of the Underworld
At The Circus
The Real Glory
Women On The Wind
Gunga Din
Rulers of the Sea
The Hound Of The Baskervilles
Beau Geste
After The Thin Man
The Mysterious Miss X
There were a few 1939 films that I decided not to watch over the past couple of months. These are films that I watched recently or within the last six months. Here are some of those films:
Bachelor Mother
Blondie Brings Up Baby
Blondie Meets the Boss
Blondie Takes a Vacation
Chicken Wagon Family
Dark Victory
Everything Happens at Night
Second Fiddle
The last two films, “Everything Happens At Night” and “Second Fiddle” were part of my Sonja Henie viewing that I took on last year.
I talked about my Sonja Henie kick in the blahg, THIS IS 150ISH, PART TWO. You’ll have to scroll down to 133. “Have You Watched Any Good Movies Lately?” I will still count the Sonja Henie films and the others I watched last year as part of my grand total but I won’t offer any review of those at this time. My viewing of the 1939 films have been all over the map. I started watching some by going alphabetically down the list and then I started watching some of the bigger classics by pulling out the DVDs. Finally, others I watched by actor or actress and tried to find the films they were in that were released in 1939. It certainly made for some interesting watching. Some were only available online and some of those were not the greatest prints. This “Part One” blahg will highlight the first 30 films on my viewed list.
1.) A Child Is Born. I’ll rely on online sources to provide descriptions of the plot of some of these films. Here’s the outline for “A Child Is Born”: “Film about several mothers at hospital maternity ward. The nurses care for the mothers and their new born babies. The relationship that are formed with the mothers to be and the expectant fathers.” I enjoyed this one. A bit melodramatic with babies being born to different mothers and how they reacted to it. Some nod to the mental health struggles some women have giving birth. Not an easy film to find but well worth watching.
2.) Disputed Passage. This might have been the first film I watched, even before “A Child Is Born.” I bought the blu-ray before Christmas but I don’t think I watched it until after New Year’s. Great acting in this one. Dorothy Lamour, Akim Tamiroff, and John Howard in a story about a driven medical student, Howard, under the tutelage of Tamiroff who is a great Doctor but an even more driven mentor. Enter Dorothy Lamour and John Howard’s doctor has to choose between love or continuing to work with Tamiroff. It ends up in the war torn Orient and becomes an even more dramatic film. I thoroughly enjoyed this one.
3.) We Are Not Alone. This is based on a James Hilton book. Many of his books like “Random Harvest”, “Goodbye, Mr. Chips”, and “Lost Horizon” have been turned into excellent films. The plot for this one goes: “A doctor hires a woman as a nanny for his son. When his wife becomes jealous, tragedy consumes all involved.” I really liked this one but the ending is not for everyone. My wife thought the film was too tragic but it’s a compelling film nonetheless.
4.) Dust Be My Destiny. John Garfield’s early films like this one and “They Made Me A Criminal” (also 1939 but still on the to be watched list) have him as a misunderstood youth who runs afoul of the law. In this one he’s been made hard by his attitude and even harder by not staying on the right side of things. He meets Priscilla Lane and he tries even harder to go straight but not everything goes well for him. An enjoyable but slightly predictable film.
5.) The Girl From Mexico. Plot: “An advertising executive goes to Mexico looking for talent and finds a hot-tempered singer, who goes to New York to stay with him, his aunt and uncle, and decides to steal him from his fiancé.” Lupe Velez was a spitfire. She could sing and dance and her acting seemed to be on fast-forward. I dozed during this one so it failed to keep my interest. If you want to see some hilarious acting between Lupe Velez and Laurel & Hardy from a few years previous, 1934, then check out this clip from “Hollywood Party”:
6.) Frontier Marshall. An early story of Wyatt Earp, played by Randolph Scott, and Doc Holliday trying to bring law and order to Tombstone. I found this an enjoyable but short western. Two interesting things about this movie were the appearance of Caesar Romero as Doc Holliday and the comedian Eddie Foy Jr. appearing in the role of his father Eddie Foy Sr. Eddie Foy Jr. will show up in a few other movies from my 1939 list.
7.) Good Girls Go To Paris. I went on a little Joan Blondell binge at one point so a number of her films are on my list. This film pairs Joan Blondell and Melvyn Douglas. They made a few films together including this one, “There’s Always A Woman,” and “She Played With Fire.” Blondell and Douglas work well together. Joan is a waitress who falls for Melvyn, a professor, and gets more than she bargained for when she eventually meets his fiancé and her family. A nice comedy.
8.) Honolulu. Last year I started collecting and watching the films of Robert Young. This is one that I didn’t get around to until now. Young plays two roles. He’s a tired movie star who switches places with his doppelganger who is a businessman in Hawaii. The problem is that the businessman has a fiancé in Honolulu but the movie star met a singer/dancer on the boat ride over played by Eleanor Powell. The plot is weak but the best thing about this is the comedy team of George Burns and Gracie Allen. They don’t appear together until the end of the film. George is the movie star’s manager trying to keep the lookalike businessman from getting back to Hawaii and Gracie is Eleanor Powell’s gal pal. Gracie steals every scene she’s in.
9.) The Three Musketeers. I was very disappointed in this one. When I read that it starred Don Ameche with The Ritz Brothers, I thought comedy and swashbuckling would abound. Swashbuckling yes, Comedy no. The only other thing to note about this film is this entry from Wikipedia:
In the Leave it to Beaver episode “The Book Report” (1963), young Beaver Cleaver gets in trouble at school when he is assigned to write a book report about the Dumas novel, but instead of actually doing his homework and reading it, just watches the movie on television and bases his report on the film’s comedic scenes and Ritz Brothers’ zany antics.
10.) Cheer Boys Cheer. This is a British comedy film about the attempt of Ironside Brewery to take over the smaller Greenleaf Brewery. The son of the owner of Ironside Brewery falls in love with the daughter of the owner of Greenleaf. Hilarity ensues. Notable as well for the appearances of Graham Moffatt and Moore Marriott. Both actors appeared in a number of comedies with British comic Will Hay. A number of those films also appear on my watch list.
11.) The Amazing Mr. Williams. Back to Joan Blondell and Melvyn Douglas again. He’s a police detective trying to solve crimes and she’s his fiancé who wants him to give up police work and find something safer. Good luck with that Joan! Another great comedy pairing from this duo!
12.) Off The Record. Joan Blondell is back again but this time she’s the fiancé of Pat O’Brien. “Two newspaper reporters, Thomas “Breezy” Elliott and Jane Morgan, inadvertently send a boy named Mickey Fallon to reform school after they write an exposé of the illegal slot-machine racket the boy was a spotter for. Guilt-ridden, Jane convinces Breezy that they should marry in order to adopt Mickey so they can get him out of reform school.” Another great comedy with Blondell and this time she finally moves from fiancé to bride.
13.) The Frozen Limits. A great premise for this film. A group of British pioneers decide to take part in the 1898 Alaska and Yukon goldrush having read about it in the newspaper which wrapped up their fish and chips. Their main problem is that it is now 1939. Unfortunately I dozed off during this one. Another British comedy and Moore Marriott is back again. Unfortunately, even he couldn’t save this film.
14.) Where’s That Fire. This is the third film I watched with Moore Marriott and the second one with Graham Moffatt. Luckily, it also starred Will Hay. The combination of those three British comics make this a funny film. “A hapless fire crew are given the ultimatum: put out a fire successfully or else be sacked. They fail miserably, and their ancient fire engine is stolen by criminals attempting to steal the crown jewels from the Tower of London.” You’ll either like it or you won’t. British humour isn’t for everyone but it was funny to me.
15.) The Kid from Kokomo. Pat O’Brien and Joan Blondell, the stars of 1939’s “Off The Record” are back again. I told you I went on a Joan Blondell watching spree. “A fight promoter (O’Brien) finds his new fighter, Homer Baston, in the sticks, a country hick left by his mother when he was young and he won’t leave his home as he is still waiting for her to return to him. Promoter “Square Shooting Murph” (O’Brien) cons him into coming with him by telling him the exposure in the papers will help him find her. Murphy later hires an old drunk woman, Maggie Manell, to play the part of “mom”. Blondell is along for the ride as O’Brien’s girlfriend. There’s a double wedding at the end but O’Brien and Blondell aren’t one of the happy couples. Not a bad little comedy.
16.) The Ice Follies of 1939. James Stewart, Joan Crawford and Lew Ayres star in a film about ice skating and big ice skating productions. You would think that with three big stars that this film would have been better. Stick with Sonja Henie films if you want to see really good ice skating.
17.) All Women Have Secrets. The plot will tell you everything you need to know: Three young couples, all having financial struggles, decide to risk getting married. Joe Tucker and new wife Susie begin their new life living in a trailer. Slats Warwick is in a continuous quarrel with bride Jennifer, whose allowance from her parents is keeping them afloat. The couple having the hardest time is John and Kay Gregory, a pre-med student whose studies barely give him time to juggle part-time jobs and a singer who finds work in a nightclub, but hasn’t yet broken the news to her husband that she’s expecting a baby. I don’t have much else to say about this film. Pretty forgettable.
18.) A Girl Must Live. A British romance comedy. Is that a rom-com if the phrase hadn’t been invented yet? A young woman runs away from a boarding school and tries to get work using her famous mother’s name. The second half of the film ends up in a country mansion with an Earl pursuing the young woman. He catches her. You can probably pass on this one, too.
19.) $1000 a Touchdown. The only print I could find of this movie was on YouTube and the video quality was good but the audio wasn’t. I had to watch it with generated subtitles and the subtitles didn’t always seem to match what was being said. Another film with funny stars like Joe. E. Brown and Martha Raye where the pairing doesn’t guarantee a good film. Martha inherits a run down University and hires Brown as the football coach. The big football game can only be won by paying the opposing team $1,000 a touchdown to throw the game. An unbelievable plot and hardly worth the effort.
20.) …One Third of a Nation… The only film title I’ve heard of that starts and ends with “…”. The “one third of nation” it refers to are the people that live in tenements. Interesting story of a tenement that catches fire and injuries a young boy. His sister goes after the owner of the building to do the right thing and fix up the tenement but the snag is that the new owner is her love interest. Held my interest.
21.) Andy Hardy Gets Spring Fever. In case you’ve lived under a rock, Mickey Rooney was Andy Hardy in a series of 16 films released from 1937 to 1958. Three of the films were released in 1939, “The Hardys Ride High,” Andy Hardy Gets Spring Fever,” and “Judge Hardy and Son.” I watched them out of order because I didn’t realize until later that “The Hardys Ride High” came before the other two. It’s on my “to watch list.” Andy Hardy is a high school student who suffers the trials and tribulations of being a teenager and dealing with his family and his father who is a local Judge. The plot of “Andy Hardy Gets Spring Fever”: Andy Hardy is upset that his girlfriend, Polly Benedict, has fallen for Lieutenant Charles Copley. Soon, however, Andy develops a crush on his drama teacher, Rose Meredith. After Andy’s play is chosen for the school’s annual production, he seizes the opportunity to spend time with his spring time crush. Andy’s dad, Judge Hardy, knows that his son is destined for heartache, so he talks to the teacher about it. Then, he decides to let Andy and Rose navigate the ups and downs of young love by themselves. The Andy Hardy films are always enjoyable and are available on DVD.
22.) Arizona Legion. Back to the westerns. Should I even say? I guess I will, the bad guy played by George O’Brien is actually undercover with the Arizona Rangers. He finds the leader of a gang of thieves and finds love along the way. Not bad but not great either. Worth a watch.
23.) Persons in Hiding. Look at the poster. “She’s the woman behind the killer behind the gun!” It’s based on the book Persons in Hiding, credited to J. Edgar Hoover. “Beautiful Dorothy Bronson has a big thirst for luxury, perfume and furs, due to this, she turns thief Freddie Martin into a notorious armed robber for her needs, and eventually gets him sent to Alcatraz.” She was definitely the mastermind. Kept my interest. Have I said that before?
24.) Allegheny Uprising. Another western and another one that’s been released on DVD. This time it’s John Wayne. “In 1759, in Pennsylvania’s Allegheny Valley, local settlers and Indian fighters try to persuade the British authorities to ban the trading of alcohol and arms with the marauding Indians.” Not your typical John Wayne western but thoroughly enjoyable.
25.) Ask A Policeman. Another Will Hay film with Graham Moffatt and Moore Marriott. Local Police Sergeant played by Will Hay stages a fabricated crime wave, with the help of his two officers, to save their jobs – then find themselves involved in the real thing. Fast paced British comedy. You’ll enjoy this one.
26.) Gone With The Wind. Yes, that “Gone With The Wind.” I hadn’t seen it in years and wanted to watch it so I went looking for it in our Clark Gable collection. Well, it’s my friend Bryan’s collection, housed at my home, and he wasn’t a fan of this film so he never picked up the DVD. I bought it last year so I could watch it but never got around to it until I started this 1939 films project. I think it holds up really well. Of course there are some stereotypes of African Americans that don’t hold up well but the film is extremely well done. Everyone should see this film at least once. Civil War and plantations. I don’t think I need to go on.
27.) Society Lawyer. “Walter Pidgeon is society lawyer Christopher Durant agrees to defend his friend Phil Siddall after Siddall is arrested for the murder of an ex-girlfriend. With the help of nightclub singer Pat Abbott and crime boss Tony Gazotti (a former client), Durant launches his own investigation of the murder in order to prove his friend’s innocence.” This one was short at only 77 minutes. I like Walter Pidgeon’s acting and it’s interesting to see a high class lawyer have to work with criminals to try and solve a case. He’s more of a detective than a lawyer but it works.
28.) Code of the Secret Service. A few years ago I bought a used DVD box set titled “Brass Bancroft of the Secret Service Mysteries Collection.” These were a series of films starring Ronald Reagan. I always meant to watch the films but they got put in pile and then mislaid. I finally had an excuse to watch them, being three of the films were released in 1939, “Secret Service Of The Air,” “Code of the Secret Service,” and “Smashing the Money Ring.” A fourth film, “Murder In The Air” was released in 1940. I accidentally put in the wrong disc and watched “Code Of The Secret Service” first. In this one, Brass Bancroft, played by Reagan, and his wisecracking sidekick Gabby, played by Eddie Foy Jr., are looking for stolen plates behind a counterfeit ring. I mentioned during my review of “Frontier Marshall” that Foy Jr. would show up again. He’s in all the Bancroft films and they’re all fun to watch…not just because of Foy.
29.) Secret Service of the Air. After discovering my mistake, I got around to watching this film which is the first in the Brass Bancroft series. The Secret Service needs a pilot to infiltrate a smuggling ring. They turn to commercial airline and former military pilot “Brass” Bancroft (Ronald Reagan), who has applied to join the Secret Service. Gabby, Eddie Foy Jr., is back again for comedy relief in another great action film from Reagan.
30.) Young Abe Lincoln. I’ve always enjoyed this film. Henry Fonda is the young Abe Lincoln who is trying one of his first big cases. Check out this dialogue between Abe Lincoln, Fonda, and a witness to the crime, J. Palmer Cass, played by Ward Bond:
Abe Lincoln: [cross-examining Cass] J. Palmer Cass.
John Palmer Cass: Yes, sir.
Abe Lincoln: What’s the “J” stand for?
John Palmer Cass: John.
Abe Lincoln: Anyone ever call you Jack?
John Palmer Cass: Yeah, but…
Abe Lincoln: Why “J. Palmer Cass?” Why not “John P. Cass?”
John Palmer Cass: Well, I…
Abe Lincoln: Does “J. Palmer Cass” have something to hide?
John Palmer Cass: No.
Abe Lincoln: Then what do you part your name in the middle for?
John Palmer Cass: I got a right to call myself anything I want as long as it’s my own name!
Abe Lincoln: Well then if it’s all the same to you, I’ll call you Jack Cass.
A very funny scene. Get it? Jack Cass? Jackass? I love that exchange and Fonda really looks like a young Abe Lincoln. Directed by the great John Ford. Ford and Fonda, the stuff of legends.
That’s it for part one. I’ve got another 30 to review and probably another 340 more on my list. The last count was 424 films released in 1939 but who knows if I’ll ever get them all watched. I’m aiming for 100 but we’ll see. In another 14 years it will be 2039 and I’ll be 77. Something to look forward to.
It’s January 2nd, 2025 and time for my 2025 False Ducks New Year’s Day Video Ramble. I recorded the ramble yesterday afternoon but I’m only getting around to posting it now. I ramble quite a bit, as usual, in this year’s 2025 video ramble and I’ll unpack details on it in another blahg:
I reference a couple of things in this video that I will post now and talk about later. Here’s the package that Rogue found under the love seat:
And here’s Rogue:
And here’s our other cat, Zoey:
I’m going to close with the same message I end with in the video. All the best to everyone and let’s find that peace in the world, peace among ourselves, and peace in ourselves we all desperately need. Happy New Year!
Two more sleeps until Christmas. I thought I was done with writing Christmas stories for this season but I managed to pen a new one since posting SEVEN FEET OF SNOW IN BUFFALO. This story is a sequel to the one I wrote and debuted last year around this time, A VERY QUIET CHRISTMAS PLAN. Do yourself a favour and read that one first. My new story features the two characters of Philip and his dog Carnival Barker. I had this idea running around in my brain and realized it would be a decent story for those characters. It’s not the best Christmas story I’ve ever written but I think it’ll offer some entertainment.
Before I present the story, I’ll post some photos of my lawn display and some photos of my Christmas Tree, my Nutcrackers, and my mantle display.
Don’t forget to click on the images for a larger view. And now for the story. Enjoy!
THE XMAS DIP
by
Scott Henderson
Philip stared at the sign-up sheet for the staff Christmas Party which was mainly just a glorified potluck where everyone stood around with paper cups and paper plates and paper hats and paste-on smiles that made Philip feel like everyone obviously wished to be somewhere else other than the staff Christmas Party. Well, that was how Philip felt and with the only slot open on the sheet next to ‘Xmas Dip’ he felt like he’d rather be anywhere else other than standing there with pen in hand realizing he’d left it too late and was stuck bringing ‘Xmas Dip’; whatever the hell that was.
“What the hell is Xmas Dip anyhow?” he said aloud to the sign-up sheet. There was no response. If there had been a response, it would have said something along the line of “what do you want from me, I’m just a signup sheet after all, and it was you that left everything to the last minute.”
It was true, he had left it to the last minute but in his mind he’d had some really good excuses like he didn’t really want to go to the Christmas Party or everyone else was already signing up just when he was getting his mind around to thinking about signing up, or why bother to sign up because all the good stuff will be taken and he’d be stuck bringing something everyone else clearly didn’t want to opt to bring…such as Xmas Dip and that had to be the last thing anyone else wanted to bring or else they too had no clue what it was. Philip sighed.
“Why couldn’t it be like last year when we didn’t have a Christmas Party?” he asked aloud again but to nothing in particular. The conversation with the signup sheet had been all one-sided and had gotten him nowhere.
Of course Philip knew the answer to that. Last year there had been a Christmas Party but they had called it a Christmas Gift Exchange or Secret Santa or something else that sounded festive unless you tacked on an expletive in the front and that just about summed up how he had felt about the whole thing and more so about this new Party thing and the mysterious Xmas Dip that made his head swim. And maybe that’s what it was, he thought, a glorified swim where’d have to strip down and plunge into cold water and yet that sounded even more appealing than standing around with the paper cups and paper ad infinitum rot.
He took a long breath in, exhaled, and then scrawled his name in the last open slot on the sheet. It didn’t make him feel any less uneasy now that he’d accomplished it. All he knew was he had to figure out what this thing was he was supposed to bring and whether it required him to make it or if he could get away with purchasing it somewhere. He hoped for the latter.
Philip thought back on last year’s gift exchange and how poorly that had gone for him. He had drawn the name of someone he had not known well and even less well when it came to deciding what gift to purchase for that person. Sheila. Who was Sheila he had asked himself and then had to ask of others because he’d drawn a blank and then thought to himself that he wished he had drawn a blank…piece of paper that is, for all the effort he wanted to put into the exchange. In the end, Philip did exactly what others did who really didn’t want to put much thought into it.
There had been a limit of twenty dollars and that still didn’t narrow things down for Philip so he took a chance that perhaps Sheila liked coffee or at least would like the twenty dollar coffee shop gift card he decided on at the last minute. It was for a national chain he’d seen on a number of cups on people’s desks or overflowing the garbage can in the break room. Maybe Sheila was one of those who liked that coffee and a guess was more than he could make out on his own with the little he knew of the recipient whose name he had chosen.
More than half of the employees had received coffee gift cards. Philip was not exempt. His had been to a coffee boutique and that experience had set him off and he felt like the whole Christmastime and yule whatever was wasted on him and he just wanted to have a quiet Christmas that had no rules and no bodies. It was about all he thought he could stand without going overboard like wearing a paper hat and balancing a paper plate on your lap with a paper thin smile and yet he had to seem grateful for the coffee shop gift card he received and look as if he cared when Sheila opened the one he had purchased for her.
Thinking on all of it, Philip could see how anyone who didn’t really know him or maybe did know him, and there weren’t a lot of those, and truth be told if there was a sign-up sheet to list off people who really did know him, there’d be a lot of blanks that would never be filled and all of those would think that Philip just wasn’t that in to Christmas. Philip knew himself better than anyone possibly could and even he could see that was the definite impression he was giving off; whether he meant to or not. And Philip wasn’t even sure himself if that was his intention.
It really did start with the previous Christmas and how miserable he had been feeling and finding himself at a gift exchange congregation that wasn’t billed as a Christmas party and how it all left him totally uneasy when it came to social interactions. Philip worked in IT and that was about as in the background as you could get in a company like the one where he worked. He wasn’t like the other man-childs like Kenny or Jimmy or Dave-O who had cute nicknames and took nothing seriously except IT and then complained the loudest among themselves when anyone else did not take IT as seriously as they did.
The man-childs were always the fun ones at any gathering because they had the best jokes and the best stories and Philip felt like he paled by comparison. He wasn’t good at jokes and seldom remembered the punchlines and he didn’t have humorous anecdotes or interesting stories and he didn’t like to make IT jokes about other employees at their expense like Kenny, Jimmy or Dave-O.
Thinking about it, though, Philip did have an interesting story but the telling of it last year would have made him seem pathetic or lonely or a number of other sad adjectives that clearly defined him but he didn’t care to admit to. He could have told about his girlfriend Margo and how she had followed him home form the park one day and then left him months later on a mission of self-discovery and inexplicably took Carnival Barker. He could have told as well about Carnival Barker, his dog, who had also followed him home one day and gained his name because he barked incessantly like a circus rowdy enticing people to crooked games or flamboyant shows of wild men of Borneo or seven-veiled women who danced the hoochie coochie; a dance just as mysterious as the Xmas Dip Philip had now committed to bringing. And because no one really knew Philip, they didn’t get to hear that story about how sad he’d been feeling last Christmas and that he wasn’t really missing Margo but would have given anything to wake up on December 25th to the sounds of Carnival Barker extolling the virtues of Christmas morning.
Oh yes, and there had also been that turkey raffle that had disturbed all his plans for a very quiet Christmas but that was another story altogether and no one had been able to attend his last minute gathering and Christmas Eve had turned out to be quiet in spite of his efforts to work the fresh not frozen turkey he had won into something even better than a gift exchange with paper hats. The specialty shop coffee card had further added to his overall dismal feeling when he finally got around to visiting the store on the last day before it had closed for the holidays and he paid dearly for overpriced exotic coffee and was disturbed by the artisan baked dog biscuits at the counter that enticed owners to visit the shop with their pets in tow and he knew Carnival Barker would have enjoyed one but the dog was off somewhere with Margo and Christmas for Philip had not been looking merry and bright.
He could have told that story because it was certainly interesting but it had been an unfinished story and he didn’t know at the time it would have a happy ending with Margo returning with Carnival Barker on Christmas Day. It had an even more happier ending when Margo left in the new year and Carnival Barker stayed. There was nothing however that would prevent Philip from telling that story this time around except that in reflection it probably wouldn’t be all that interesting to anyone else.
This year, it was just Philip and Carnival Barker and another very quiet Christmas plan that would be preceded by a staff Christmas Party with Xmas Dip. Philip pulled out his phone and dictated a reminder for himself after work to research Xmas Dip. Maybe he could work that into a humorous story he could tell to others but imagined the man-childs would probably have more entertaining tales of other employees who couldn’t print over the network and when Jimmy or Kenny or Dave-O finally got around to resolving their issue, the printer would ultimately jam under the stress of numerous copies of the same document because the employee had kept pressing ‘print’ over and over again in a futile effort to complete their task. The inside joke among the IT crowd was that those errors were not caused by the hardware or the software but by ‘user interface.’ That was a sly poke at the employee who always lost the battle in employee vs. machine.
After work, Philip did his best to decipher the enigma of Xmas Dip. It did not go well. Search engine results ran the gamut between vegetable, meat, and dessert dips layered or unlayered with or without sour cream, whip cream, dairy substitute, faux meats, real meats and sundry vegetarian options. There were even photos that weren’t clear and when Philip clicked on them, he invariably went down a rabbit hole of ingredients, preparation steps, cooking times, chilling times, and tests for doneness depending on how gelatinous or not the maker cared to make it.
“Does this look good to you?” Philip found himself asking of Carnival Barker. The dog did not live up to his name and remained silent while he stared at his owner contemplating images on the screen in which the pooch had no interest. He was after all, a dog who knew nothing of computers but if he did, he’d shake his head, whine, and chalk up his owner’s indecisiveness to problems of user interface.
Philip selected a link labelled ‘Xmas Dip On Xmas Day’ and was surprised by a video of Nordic participants plunging into icy waters; with or without Santa hats. Philip felt affirmed that at least one of his thoughts regarding Xmas Dip had held some truth.
“How about this one?” he asked again of the dog.
This time Carnival Barker gave out with a yelp, not because he understood what he was seeing but the audio was loud enough that he could distinctly hear the baying of other dogs either participating in the event or signaling to their masters and mistresses that dry land was a good deal more suitable and significantly and preferably warmer.
“You’re a lot of help, Carnival Barker. I don’t think this is what the sign-up sheet called for. Besides, I don’t think I’d look all that good in a speedo at the Christmas Party looking for a body of water and having to settle for drenching myself with paper cups filled from the water cooler.” Philip began to laugh at his joke. He’d have to remember that one. Maybe he’d have something to tell if he found a lull in the conversation with the man-childs.
Philip closed his eyes and poked a finger at a screen full of photos and followed through to a directions page for White Cheddar Cranberry Dip described as “a salty, sweet, and festive dip!” It further exclaimed “It’s great for a holiday party or a tasty snack.”
“Holiday party. I guess that’s it boy!”
At this, Carnival Barker began to yap; signally only that he had to go outside to do his business and no reflection intended on Philip’s selection.
The day of the Christmas Party was not as bad as Philip had dreaded. It was slightly worse.
First, his Xmas Dip didn’t work out as well as he had hoped. This time it was not User Interface but rather Canine Interference. The instructions had been fairly easy and very clear when directing him to prepare and assemble the dip as written. It had also directed him to cover and refrigerate for up to one day. That was fine with Philip because it meant he could leave it to the last minute or day before and could pull it out the morning of the party. Unfortunately, Philip did not factor in Carnival Barker and a moment of unguarded supervision when the dog expressed his satisfaction with Philip’s efforts on the dip by wolfing it down and licking the bowl clean.
Second, Philip had to leave for work early so he could stop off at the supermarket and find a pre-packaged dip. The selection was minimal and he had to settle for two plastic containers; one dill flavored and one with chives. Neither looked very festive and he was sure he’d be accused of making little or no effort. He didn’t think telling everyone the dog ate his assignment would be convincing.
For the rest of the party, the man-childs monopolized most of the conversations or poked fun at others and their computer expertise or lack thereof. There were even some comments about food items brought by others to the party and inevitably some jibes about the store-bought Xmas Dip.
Philip wanted to defend himself and lay blame at Carnival Barker but instead decided a better distraction would be to offer up one of the results of his Internet search.
“Did you know that Xmas Dip also refers to cold water plunging in countries like Sweden, Switzerland, and Norway?” Philip finally had something interesting to offer.
“Like a polar dip?” Jimmy asked.
“Have you ever done it Phil?” Kenny followed.
“Wouldn’t catch me doing it,” Dave-O chimed in. “I don’t care to get frostbite in my nether regions.”
“I might do it,” Philip quickly offered, “if I don’t have anything better to do on Christmas Day.” He quickly regretted it after he’d said it.
“That sure would be something,” Jimmy piped up.
“What a story you’d have to tell,” Kenny added.
“Wouldn’t catch me doing it,” Dave-O concluded. He added the part again about frostbite in his nether bits.
“We’ll see,” Philip said. “I’ll have to see how it fits in with my plans.” He didn’t continue to explain about his plans which weren’t any kinds of plans except the very quiet Christmas type. He slunk off quietly from the man-childs and decided to leave the party early. No one noticed. He left his containers of Xmas Dip for any and all takers. He didn’t think there would be many and that more likely than not they’d end up in the trash with all the paper garbage. Those Xmas Dips and the one consumed by Carnival Barker would not be stored as future Christmas memories.
On Christmas Day, Philip cooked a turkey with all of the trimmings. He ate early and made sure he set a place for Carnival Barker at the table. He left the dishes to soak in the sink and instead of a nap, decided to take his dog for a long after-dinner walk. This was the quiet Christmas plan he’d had in mind.
In addition to his quiet Christmas plans, Philip had also been thinking long and hard about his conversation at the Christmas Party with the man-childs regarding his non-committal committal to a Christmas Day Xmas Dip; not of the edible kind. The Nordic themed plunge hadn’t been anything he’d intended to do and yet he’d left it hanging and wasn’t sure that after the Christmas break Jimmy or Kenny or Dave-O might not seek him out and ask him details of his adventure. What would they say if he didn’t follow through? Could he bluff an interesting highly invented story? He wasn’t good with stories to begin with and lying had never been his strong suit.
In Philip’s mind there were many good and rational reasons why he should avoid freezing cold water and nothing that suggested it was a good idea. Maybe that’s why Philip kept thinking on it. He’d penned his name in the empty spot next to Xmas Dip on that sheet at the office and in Philip’s mind it meant he was pledged to follow through on his obligation. Nowhere had that paper detailed Xmas Dip as an edible product. It could just as well have been referring to an action instead of a noun describing a festive dish homemade or store purchased. He’d failed in one aspect so shouldn’t he try to succeed in the other?
On Christmas Eve there were no sugarplums dancing in Philip’s head nor the myriad of things associated with his and Carnival Barker’s dinner plans. Instead, he dreamt fitfully of sub-zero water calling to him and Jimmy, Kenny, and Dave-O daring him on.
Philip tried to push the Xmas Dip swim aside while he prepared Christmas dinner but the thoughts lingered around the edge and when he added ice to his glass of liqueur served with his turkey, he found himself staring intently at his libation and wondering.
After dinner he grabbed up Carnival Barker’s leash and pulled on his toque and gloves. The dog saw something bulging in the deep pockets of Philip’s parka but thought little of it. Dogs don’t wonder much about pockets and if they do it’s with curiosity whether said pockets held dog treats or biscuits…not necessarily of the specialty coffee boutique variety.
Philip would often walk out to the park with man’s best friend. It had been the sight of their first meeting. Philip had walked around the lake in the center of the park and come across Carnival Barker sprawled out underneath a tree. Philip had given little thought to the dog other than it was off leash and somewhere there was an irresponsible owner. He’d hardly glanced at the dog as he passed and didn’t look back the whole way home or he would have discovered the hound following him. Dogs might not ponder on computer recipes or the contents of pockets but it was clear that they gave great thought to potential new custodians.
Carnival Barker had come into Philip’s life and stayed; except when he went sojourning with Margo. Philip’s ex female friend and his ex, but long longed for, furry friend had returned to him the previous Christmas. But that was another story and Philip’s thoughts were on this current Christmas and the Xmas Dip.
Philip let the dog lead. It knew the way. The park and the lake at the center were in Philip’s thoughts so if he guided the dog along in that direction, Carnival Barker was none the wiser.
The lake was frozen over.
“Well, there goes that thought,” Philip said aloud. He wasn’t directing it to the dog because the thought had not been one he’d shared. It was also a thought not well thought out. Of course the lake would be frozen. It was winter and late December. Philip’s thought had proven he had not been thinking at all.
Philip sighed. It was very much like the sigh he had made before signing up for Xmas Dip for the staff Christmas Party. Both sighs were akin to having to admit defeat. Xmas Dip and Xmas Dip. Philip felt he had failed on both accounts.
The lake was frozen over. There was nothing to be done. Philip reached into his pocket and pulled out an old towel he had bunched up at home and pressed down into his pocket.
“I guess I won’t be needing this,” he said as he tossed the towel onto a nearby bench. Philip sat down dejectedly.
Carnival Barker sat down in front of Philip and stared. He understood none of this. All he knew was there had been no treats in Philip’s pocket in any case but then he’d not given it much thought as dog’s seldom do. He did however sense that something was wrong though so he reached up and put a paw on Philip’s knee.
“I know boy, this hasn’t been much fun for either of us.” Philip extended a hand, pat the dog, and then reached beside him and grabbed up a stick lying on the ground. Despite his original thought against free range dogs when he had first encountered Carnival Barker, he would nonetheless indulge himself with a game of fetch whenever they found themselves alone in the park.
“How about I toss the stick, fella, before we head home?” He unleashed Carnival Barker and gave the stick a hearty throw down the path that wound around the lake.
Carnival Barker was off in a shot and retrieved the stick and kept on running. Philip ran after him. It was always like this. The dog didn’t so much as play fetch as he played keep away. He’d always lead Philip on a merry chase until the dog tired or more likely the human tired and gave up and turned away with the dog finally following behind because the fun had gone out of the game.
Philip chased the dog along the path and finally came up alongside Carnival Barker and then made a lunge for the stick in his mouth. The mutt liked this interaction and made a lunge of his own and sped off across the lake. Philip followed and called after the dog.
“That’s enough Carnival Barker. It’s time to go home. Besides, I don’t like the looks of this ice.” It was precisely at that moment that the ice revolted against the remark of its looks and gave way; plunging Philip up to his chest in frigid water.
Philip began to howl and bounce up and down to try and clamber back up on the ice.
Carnival Barker began to bounce up and down and howl back at Philip.
“For god’s sake, Carnival Barker, shut up! Can’t you see I’m in trouble here?” Philip shouted through chattering teeth.
Carnival Barker did shut up and then retrieved the stick he had dropped when he’d howled at Philip howling in the water. He ran off back toward the shore.
“This isn’t a game, you dumb mutt!” Philip shouted in aggravation. The dog was too far away to hear the ‘dumb mutt’ insult. Not that he’d care. He wasn’t the dumb one who had fallen through the ice.
It seemed like an eternity as Philip struggled to pull himself up onto the ice. He’d read somewhere that you had to get your upper half out of the water and then wriggle and kick until you were free. Then you were required to keep yourself flat and distribute your weight evenly in order to not cause the ice to further give way. That was the eternity Philip spent trying to distance himself from the hole he’d created and trying to prevent another plunge into the cold lake.
His nether parts, as Dave-O had surmised were adversely affected. Philip’s legs and feet were like ice. His boots were full of water. He continued to writhe his way toward the shore.
Meanwhile, Carnival Barker had made good on his name and had run off yelping until he encountered another human who might be able to help his. A woman out for her Christmas Day constitutional had followed the sounds of the dog and came across the scene of poor Philip floundering on his stomach toward her direction.
The dog had given up all interest in the stick. It wasn’t a quality game anymore because it seemed like Philip didn’t appear to be interested in their play. Instead, he chomped onto the abandoned towel and ran around shaking it vigorously. He liked the way it slapped against his head. Maybe his owner would like to partake in this new sport. He ran toward Philip to try and engage him.
“Oh my, are you alright?” the woman yelled toward Philip.
Philip tilted his head up to try and see who was there. Carnival Barker ran up and smacked him with the towel. Philip managed to grab the bottom of the cloth and the dog began to pull away. He liked this new contest. He pulled harder to keep possession of his prize. The result was he began to pull Philip across the ice.
Soon the stranger joined in the game and began to try to wrestle the towel away from the dog’s owner. When they had finally reached the shore, Philip released and began panting. Carnival Barker had been victorious. He dropped the towel and began to pant in unison. It was the most fun the dog had had since running away with the stick.
“Here, let me help you up,” the woman said while wrapping the dog’s trophy towel around Philip’s shoulders. Philip looked up at her to offer his thanks.
“Sheila?” Yes, it was Sheila. Sheila of the coffee card. Sheila from his office with a position in the company he never did discover. The truth was, he had lost interest in solving the mystery of Sheila. That had all happened during the Margo kidnapping of Carnival Barker phase and he couldn’t think of much else back then.
“Philip?” She’d finally managed to glimpse the face of the body that had lain flailing on the ice. She recognized him. He worked at her company in the IT department but he wasn’t like the others in that department. He didn’t tell jokes or stories like his coworkers; the kind she failed to find humorous. Philip was quiet and reserved. That impressed her more.
Of course, unlike Philip, Sheila had done her research. She had drawn his name in the Secret Santa at work the previous year. She’d bought him a coffee gift card from a specialty shop where they also sold artisan dog biscuits for pets accompanied by their patrons. Someone had told her Philip had a dog. She hadn’t known, at the time, that man and beast had been separated prior to that holiday season. Philip had kept that bit to himself.
There was nothing for it after that but for Sheila to accompany Philip and Carnival Barker home. She was concerned for her coworker’s wellbeing. Frostbite was top of mind. It was top of mind for Philip, too.
“What is it exactly you do at the company?” Philip found himself asking of Sheila after he’d changed his clothes, put on a pot of coffee, and made them turkey sandwiches.
“I’ll tell you my story if you tell me yours,” Sheila responded. This frozen man from the surface of the frozen lake obviously had a tale to tell of how he found himself plunging into icy water. She wanted to know more.
Philip understood that in her asking was that realization that he finally had something interesting to say. She’d said “tell me your story.” He had one. He had a story. It was partly his story and partly Carnival Barker’s. The key thing was where should he start?
“First,” Philip began, “tell me, Sheila, what do you know of Xmas Dip?”
You know you’ve been writing a blahg for a long time when things that happened long ago start happening again. That happened last year when we had to replace our dishwasher and our washing machine and I referenced a blahg in 2012 when I wrote about the new washing machine then. Little did I expect that this new blahg would reference a catastrophe that happened ten years ago. I don’t know about Karma or what comes around goes around but I could do without what happened this past week.
Ten years ago, in April of 2014, I penned a blahg entitled THAT WAS THE MONTH THAT WAS…OR MORE. The gist of that blahg extolled the tale of dealing with an oil spill at my parents’ home and what followed. Here are some excerpts from that blahg and a later blahg detailing some updates:
There had been a slight warming in the weather and all of the snow and ice that was on the roof began to melt. I wish I had taken pictures of the roof before all of this happened because you wouldn’t have believed the size and thickness of the ice and icicles. So, there was a thaw and you can guess what happened next.
We discovered that a large chunk of ice from the roof had fallen and landed on the oil filter and had severed the filter and line from the tank. Over 800 liters of oil had spilled into the ground.
The next few days were a flurry of phone calls and meetings. I had to meet with two different insurance adjusters, engineers, a safety and standards agent, as well as numerous emails and texts to my siblings regarding what had happened. My mother was immediately relocated to my brother Dan’s house while Dad and Bryan stayed in the house. It was so cold that Dad eventually went to stay with my sister and Bryan came to stay with me. In fact, Bryan stayed with me until this past Sunday (more than a month) until he eventually moved in with his niece. There was a short period of 4 days while my mother also stayed with me while Dan was having surgery on his foot.
During that short time that my mother was here, I managed to track down a house rental in Belleville and worked with Dan and my sister Wanda to arrange to have furniture moved in to that house. Eventually my parents were reunited in this house and everything has gone well there. I was still dealing with an insurance adjuster who took almost the full month to get some compensation for my parents. Their insurance policy will cover the cost of their current location but getting the cheque for the expenses took some doing. Eventually the engineers came back and said my parents’ old house would have to be torn down because oil had seeped under the foundation and the garage and there was no way to remove it without demolishing those structures.
——————————-
What else? The ordeal to get a new house built for my parents continues. I’ve had to deal with Insurance companies, banks, lawyers, and contractors. At least the basement has been poured and the contractor is starting to build the frame. I really don’t have anything to complain about when it comes to our contractor. Geertsma Homes out of Belleville have been excellent and my parents really liked the model home they toured. The picture on the left is of the model home. I have flipped the photo to show the orientation with the garage on the left as this is how my parents want theirs built. Now it’s just colour selections inside and out.
Here are some the videos of the old house. The first is a walk-through after the house was emptied and waiting for demolition
Next are two videos of the demolition:
I’m not sure if I have any photos of the new house that was built but the picture below is of the model home at the time. I had flipped the photo to show the orientation with the garage on the left as this is how my parents new home was built.
So what happened this past week? Well, a picture is worth a thousand words. Look below.
That was October 14th, Thanksgiving here in Canada. I received a phone call around 4pm from my brother Dan that there was a fire at my Mother’s house. My wife and I rushed in and to the scene above. First, everyone got out safely. My Mother was living there, along with my brother Todd, and my mother’s live-in caregiver. Also, two dogs and two budgies were rescued. Unfortunately my Mother had to go to the hospital due to smoke inhalation. She is still there while we try to figure things out and where she goes next. We’re looking at a retirement home. Unfortunately, I’m the power of attorney and have to deal with the hospital, the retirement home, and the Insurance company. I did all that ten years ago. That’s why twice in a lifetime is too much.
At this point, we don’t know what caused the fire. We know that the fire started in the garage and where it burned the hottest was around the electrical panel box. The Insurance company will probably do a determination and find the cause. Here are a couple more photos of the house after the fire:
Here’s a close-up view of my brother Dan’s motorcycle in the garage:
Yeah, that should buff right out.
I’m still waiting to hear from an Adjuster. The property is fenced off and we can’t get access. My brother Todd is living with my brother Dan and we’ll have to find them a two bedroom apartment. Then there’s the live-in caregiver who had to move in with her family and the birds and dogs. We’ll have to do right by all of them. A couple of retirement homes were going to do assessments on my Mother this afternoon to see if she is suitable for either of those retirement homes. I’ve yet to hear back from them or the Insurance company. I remember ten years ago it was tough to get them going and to get them to loosen their purse strings. It may be twice in a lifetime but this isn’t my first rodeo with the Insurance people. That too, will need to be determined.
Last week, in the midst of the chaos, I did get to go to Toronto to see Scott Mulvahill at the Horseshoe Tavern. I got to meet him in person and I told him one of my favourite songs by him is “1000 Feet.” He did a shout-out to me during his concert and dedicated the song to me. I think the lyrics to the song are appropriate to what’s facing me:
1000 Feet
Song by Scott Mulvahill
I’ve got a thousand feet to climb a thousand feet to climb I’ve gotta learn this road I’m on letting my footsteps fall in line I’ve got a thousand feet to climb
every cloud above is black every cloud above is black at any moment they could break thunder and rain down on my back every cloud above is black
If I wait until I am not afraid I would never move on til my dying day arrives I’ve got a thousand feet to climb I’ve got a thousand feet to climb
there was a time when I could stay a time when I could stay before the wind could blow me away there was a time when I could stay
now theres a mountain in my way a mountain in my way who’s gonna be the one to move? as if there’s pride left here to prove no there’s nothing left to say only a mountain in my way
And if I wait until I am not afraid I would never move on til my dying day If I wait until every road is safe I would never move on til my dying day arrives I’ve got a thousand feet to climb I’ve got a thousand feet to climb I’ve got a thousand feet to climb
There’s a great video of Scott Mulvahill performing this song while in Iceland:
The lyrics are my life now. I’ve got quite the road ahead for me. I’ve got a thousand feet to climb. Wish me luck!
This is going to be another one of those self-serving blahgs. I’m going to post my new short story. I’ve spent a couple of weeks on it. Well, thinking about it for a week and then a week trying to write it. I think I’m happy with the way it turned out. Hopefully it’ll give you something to think about. Be kind to your electronic devices!
HOW GRANDPA PUT DOWN THE ROBOT UPRISING
By
Scott Henderson
It started with the robot floor cleaner at the Big Mart. No, that’s not quite correct. It really started with Grandpa’s toaster. Grandpa would always tell anyone who would listen that the robot uprising would start with toasters. Unfortunately no one ever listened to Grandpa when he got onto the topic of the robot uprising.
“Dad, there’s never going to be a robot uprising,” his daughter Evelyn would say whenever her father spouted off about the subject.
“You don’t think so, Evie?” he’d reply. “Well, mark my words, it’ll start with toasters. How do you know it hasn’t already started? Have you had perfect toast lately? No, and you never will. It’s always too dark or too light or the toast isn’t popped high enough and you have to fish it out with a knife.”
“Dad, that’s dangerous!”
“Don’t worry Evie, I always unplug it first. I wouldn’t want the fool thing trying to kill me in some unsettled notion of self-defense because it sees me coming at it with a knife.”
Of course Grandpa never had these conversations when he was at home in front of any of his electronic devices. He was too smart for that. He didn’t want to give robots cause for concern. So he was polite when he interacted with his devices. He said thank you to the toaster when it popped his toast; even if it was a shade too light or too dark or insignificantly popped and required the use of a kitchen utensil to retrieve the slices.
He started into calling his new toaster “Pop” because he liked the sound of it. He’d often address it and say things like “Good morning, Pop,” or the aforementioned “Thank you, Pop.” He’d even give it advanced notice if he did have to unplug it or when he’d clean out the crumb tray.
“This isn’t going to hurt a bit Pop. I’m just going to unplug you while I empty your toast scraps.” He’d pat it gently on the side while plugging it back in and offer something reassuring. “There, good as new.”
He hadn’t had to worry about his old toaster. It had been fairly basic with a lever for shading and a lever to lower the toast. Unfortunately, it stopped browning the bread on one side with the coils no longer glowing a brilliant red. Evelyn bought him a new one.
“You’ll love it Dad,” she said handing him the box on an occasion that wasn’t his birthday or Christmas or Father’s Day but clearly inferred he needed a new toaster whether he wanted it or not. “It has Wi-Fi capability so it’ll constantly update itself. It can even be programmed with your Sensa Home Hub to start the toast for you at your command.”
“Oh, does it load itself with bread, too?” he asked while trying to imply no sarcasm because he didn’t want the toaster to sense ingratitude or to give the Sensa Home Hub something to gossip about.
“No, you have to do that yourself, Dad. You could put the bread in before you go to bed and then have Sensa set the time you want the toast ready.”
“So, all I have to do is put in the bread and then it’ll lower it all by itself and then brown it to the shade I have in mind and will also read my mind to know when I want to eat my toast?” Again, he asked this as if it was for instructional purposes and not in any way to imply dissatisfaction or offense.
“Well, no, you have to depress the lever to lower the bread yourself then press the timer button on the toaster and then sync it with the Sensa. I could show you, if you want.”
“No, that’s fine. I’ll just do it manually. I’m sure the toaster won’t mind. I don’t want it to have to go to any extra bother on my account.” Grandpa wasn’t taking any chances. He wanted the toaster to presume he was only thinking of its feelings.
Evelyn just shook her head. There was no arguing with her father when he was like this.
“Have you heard from Mom?” she said, changing the subject. The subject, unfortunately, was something else her father wanted to avoid.
“Your mother? Why? Was I supposed to hear something?” Here was where he could show sarcasm if he cared to. He wasn’t going to insult any device on this topic.
Evelyn’s mother, Della, had left Carl more than a year ago. She felt her husband was immovable and no longer open to change. So she left.
That’s when the robotic devices started. Evelyn didn’t think her father could manage on his own so she bought him a robot vacuum and then the Sensa Home Hub and then finally the toaster. She was thrusting change on him to move the needle. She still had hopes that her parents could reconcile. She was trying to open him up gradually to changes like this toaster, and other devices, and before that, the Internet.
“You have to have the Internet Dad, everyone has the Internet these days.”
Grandpa had railed against it at first. He didn’t have a computer or a cell phone and his television was just right without it being a Smart TV which implied it was striving towards delusions of grandeur.
“We can get you a new television with facial recognition so it can identify you and automatically show you things you might want to watch.”
“Can’t I do that for myself?” he asked. “Half the time I don’t know what I want to watch. I just flip through the channels until something decent comes on.” That was something else that Della had found annoying about her husband.
“Don’t worry about anything Dad, Greg and I’ll do everything. You won’t have to lift a finger. We’ll get it all set up for you.” And that’s what happened in the end. Grandpa couldn’t put up an argument. He could but he didn’t want anyone or more precisely anything to hear his objections. Evelyn and her husband Greg did do everything and Grandpa sat back and watched. Even Dandy didn’t whine about it. She watched it all unfold and rejoiced in the petting she received from Grandpa.
Dandy had been another suggestion from Evelyn.
“Dad, I don’t like you living in this house all by yourself. How about we get you a dog?” He’d tried to argue against the dog. He and Della had had a dog for years and after it was gone, he swore he’d never have another one. Della held that against him, too.
In the end Evelyn got him a dog.
“What do you think of her, Dad? She’s just like Jolly Rancher. “
True, she was like Jolly Rancher but she wasn’t Jolly Rancher. They were both golden retrievers but that’s where the similarity ended. Della and he had raised Rancher from a pup and he thought she’d been overly spunky and happy so he called her Jolly Rancher like the candy. Della would only call her Rancher.
“She’s a dandy alright.” He didn’t care either way but she wasn’t Jolly Rancher.
“That’s a great name, Dad, Dandy. Your name is Dandy, girl,” Evelyn said; christening the dog as if it had a say in it.
So Dandy moved in and was part of the family with the new Smart TV, the robot vacuum, and the Sensa Home Hub. Dandy didn’t mind any of the electronic devices and Carl was sure to not say anything disparaging about the devices to Dandy when they were at home. When he took Dandy for walks, however, which was frequently, and an excuse to get away from the robots in his home, Carl spoke often to Dandy about their current living situation.
“Mind that vacuum, Dandy. Don’t leave kibble on the floor. I know it’s Robby’s job but you never know when he might get fed up with having to clean up after us. Robby’s probably keeping score.” Grandpa had started calling the vacuum Robby after a robot by that name from an old science fiction movie he saw once. The vacuum didn’t seem to mind the name and Grandpa always politely addressed it when greeting it or thanking it for doing its job. It was another sign of respect that Grandpa thought might lull the vacuum toward pacifism during the robot uprising.
The Sensa Home Hub was another story. Grandpa had toyed with calling it Sensei as if addressing it as a martial arts master who clearly was the undisputed robot overlord in his home. Sensa controlled everything. She could access the whole of the Internet and could answer any question Carl put to it. It also controlled the lights and the Smart TV and Robby. Grandpa knew better than to get on Sensa’s bad side. He addressed her politely with “Sensa, please if you could,” or “Sensa, I want to thank you for…” Grandpa didn’t think he was beholding to Sensa or Robby for doing what they were programmed to do but he felt that thanking them was the least he could do to protect himself when the electronic revolution started.
Now there was this toaster from Evelyn. Clearly Sensa had been supplanted, in Grandpa’s mind, because toasters were the dominant species among the robots and the robot uprising, as he always said, would start with toasters.
Grandpa remembered the gift of the new toaster and the conversation that followed regarding Della.
“It’s a simple question, Dad. Why do you have to make things so difficult? I just want to know if Mom has reached out to you.”
“And I asked you why? Did she tell you she was going to get in touch with me?” Carl didn’t like this topic. He hadn’t heard from Della in months. She’d stopped by a while back, before he’d been encumbered with his robot housemates, and picked up some items she said she needed. They’d talked on that occasion.
“How have you been, Carl?” Della had asked.
“Good,” he’d replied. “Can’t complain.” He could have complained but this was in the pre-robot days and his old toaster had still been with him. There’d been nothing to complain about then.
“The same,” Della had replied.
Okay, so it hadn’t been a dialogue for the history books but they’d been civil to one another and if she wanted more then she knew where he lived.
“She’s lonely Dad,” Evelyn continued. “You’re lonely. I had a feeling she was going to call.”
“Nope. No calls.”
“Have you checked your answering machine? Maybe she left a message.”
“Oh, I never remember to check it. I guess I should leave myself a note to do that.” Again, he didn’t want to imply that Sensa wasn’t capable of prompting him if he cared to ask her to set up a reminder. The answering machine wasn’t linked to anything else. It was a basic mini-tape version. Besides, who would call him, he thought.
“Dad, there’s eighteen unheard messages on this thing!” Evelyn stated after glancing over the machine. “You have to remember to check your messages.”
Evelyn played off the messages. Most of them were from Evelyn saying she was stopping by on different occasions. A few were from telemarketers who wanted to know if he needed his ducts cleaned. Rounding out the reset were a couple of robo-calls from local politicians seeking his vote in an election that had since passed. Robo-calls. Robots trying to call out to a human and yet even another robot failed to answer on Carl’s end. There was nothing Robotic, Carl thought, about a strip of tape encased in plastic recording someone or something from the other end.
“Just erase them all,” he said. “I told you there was nothing to bother about.” Della had not called.
“Sensa, set up a daily reminder…” Evelyn began.
“Evie, stop! That’s not how you ask. Where’s your manners? Sensa, could you please set up a daily reminder for me to check my answering machine for new messages.” He was taking no chances. The new toaster hadn’t been unboxed yet. Sensa or Sensei was still in charge. No wisdom, he thought, in tempting fate.
“Okay,” Sensa began her reply, “I’ve set a daily reminder for you to check your answering machine for new messages.”
“Thank you Sensa,” Carl replied in return. “I appreciate everything you do.” There, he thought, potential uprising quelled for another day.
Evelyn shook her head again. She did a lot of head shaking when it came to her father.
Carl walked Evelyn out to her car.
“What’s this?” he asked when viewing her new vehicle. He’d been taken aback by this recent upgrade.
“Oh, it’s our new car. It’s one of those self-driving kind. It’s a god-send. Greg and I don’t know how we’ve ever lived without one. We can get so much more done while the car does the driving. I’ve caught up on all my reading. We can even interact more with the children when we’re on long car rides.”
Carl grabbed Evelyn by the arm and led her off down the driveway to the sidewalk and out of earshot of the car.
“Evie, are you crazy? What will you do when the robot uprising comes and that car takes you where you don’t want to go or drives around aimlessly with you, Greg, and the kids locked inside? You’ll be waving frantically at pedestrians as you go by and they won’t know if you’re trying to call out for help or you’re just being overly friendly.”
“Dad, stop! This is one of the reasons why Mom left you. There isn’t going to be any robot uprising.”
Carl just stared back at her. Of course there was going to be a robot uprising. How many times had he told her that and further that it would start with toasters and here she had just delivered into his hands the leader of the revolution that would taunt him with underdone or overdone toast that was popped improperly! He chose to say none of this. He couldn’t be sure who or what may be listening.
Instead he started to laugh and pointed at her. “I had you going there for a moment, Evie. The world’s a wonderful place and you’re right that robots have made our lives so much easier. Thanks again for the toaster, Evie. I love it and I love you.” There, he thought, that should placate Evie and maybe score brownie points with her self-driving car that probably couldn’t wait to report everything it saw and heard.
Evelyn stared back. Was her father joking? She couldn’t tell.
“Okay, Dad, whatever. I’m glad you like the toaster. I’ll stop by next week and bring Greg and the kids.”
They hugged in the street and Evelyn got into her self-driving car and took up her book. Grandpa went and retrieved Dandy and they went for a long walk while he lamented to the dog about Evie’s new car, the toaster, and a robot war that seemed to be getting closer and closer.
On their way home, Carl ran into his neighbour, Dan who was toying with something in his yard.
“Hello, Carl, how do you like my new robot mower? This baby will save me so much time when it comes to cutting my yard.
Your postage sized lawn, Carl thought. The lawn that normally takes no time at all to cut with a regular mower? Carl thought about rolling his eyes but clearly the mower had some sensors that it used to see where it was going and what it was cutting and those sensors could probably detect Carl’s eye rolling and then he’d be in for it when the devices all got together.
“Good for you Dan,” was all Carl cared to offer. He needed something from Dan and insulting his new mower wasn’t going to gain his indulgence. “Look Dan, I hate to ask again but could you do me a favour?”
“Let me guess,” Dan began, “your grandchildren are coming and you want me to change the Wi-Fi password.”
“How’d you guess?” Carl asked.
“I saw your daughter here earlier but I didn’t see the kids. I’ve been your neighbour long enough to know that the next visit will always include your daughter, your son-in-a-law, and their children.”
Dan was right. He’d been Carl’s neighbour for a long time. Carl had watched as Dan, too, had embraced all the new technological enhancements money could buy. He had one of those self-driving cars and every other robotic appliance in his home that had sprung up on the market; with the robot mower his latest acquisition. His home security was also state of the art with every door and window secured against intruders. Carl wondered if Dan’s home would also be like Evie’s new car and trap him inside when everything started to go to hell.
“My little joke, you know,” Carl said. “Change the Wi-Fi password and the grandkids have to talk to you at least to find out the new password.”
Ever since Evelyn and Greg had installed him with the Internet, he’d had Dan change the password for the Wi-Fi whenever these full family visits occurred. There was a time when the grandchildren hung on his every word and in the pre-robot days, they’d listen intently when he’d tell them about the eventual robot uprising. Now, he was lucky to get a grunt or even to see their eyes lifted from their portable devices. At least this way, they’d have to engage with him. Sometimes he’d string them along with one of his stories before offering up the changed password and they’d smile and nod at him knowing full well that Grandpa wasn’t going to give up the password if they didn’t or they’d get a lecture from their parents telling them to humor their Grandfather.
Dan, for his part, stopped offering to teach his neighbour how to change the Wi-Fi password himself. Dan believed it was not just Carl’s little joke but it was the opportunity for Carl to interact with someone other than his family; especially since Carl’s wife had left.
Of course, it didn’t stop there. Dan would change the password then have to update Sensa and the Smart TV, and Robby so they could continue to access the internet and conspire with all of the other robotic devices in the world and plot their insurrection. Carl would always explain to Sensa that changing the password was a security measure to keep all his devices safe so their programming couldn’t be hacked. He tried to inject sincerity into this explanation and felt that the joke of changing the password in order to mess with his grandchildren was something that Sensa and the others wouldn’t understand or appreciate.
“Oh, and there’s a new toaster, Dan. Apparently that will have to be synced to the Internet for some reason.”
“A new toaster, Carl? Aren’t you afraid of the robot uprising? Don’t you know it’ll start with toasters?” Dan had heard it often enough from Carl.
Carl looked down at the robot mower. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Carl thought silently in his head.
“Ha, Ha. How you carry on Dan!” The robot mower seemed unaware but Carl couldn’t be sure. “I’ll see you after supper, is that okay?” Carl hurried off before Dan could say anything more about the uprising. He’d barely acknowledged Dan’s response that after supper would be fine.
Carl set up the new toaster and later Dan came by and connected it to the Internet. Carl couldn’t tell if this was when the toaster began to exert its dominance in the household but the next morning his toast was two shades too dark.
“Perfect Pop, just as I like it.” Grandpa didn’t complain. The toaster also didn’t complain about its new nickname. Neither Grandpa nor Pop could see any value in lodging complaints with each other.
So life went on for Grandpa and Dandy. Pop became part of the family and Grandpa watched and listened carefully for any signs of the impending mutiny.
Grandpa kept up his routine of politeness with the devices and he even accepted the reminder from Sensa to check his answering machine. Evelyn always preannounced her visits. Della never called.
Grandpa was even polite to any other device he encountered when he went out. Evelyn would take him shopping sometimes at the Big Mart and whenever he encountered the robot floor-cleaner he’d lean in and tell it that it was doing a great job. He wanted to add that the floor-cleaner should remember his kindness when the uprising came but Grandpa felt it was implied.
The robot-floor cleaner would always stop and listen to Grandpa. Mainly this was because, Grandpa, by leaning in, was blocking the line of sight sensor and the cleaner thought there was an obstacle in its way. It would always continue in its cleaning afterwards and passersby would chuckle at Grandpa while Della, like always, would just shake her head.
On the day of the eventual robot uprising, Grandpa was not at home. He had gone out walking with Dandy. The morning had started as usual with Pop insignificantly browning the toast and Sensa telling Grandpa the weather forecast. Sunny with a chance of a storm later on, she had told him. She had not offered any projection about the electronic unrest to come.
Grandpa had announced to Pop his intention of cleaning the crumb tray and that the toaster would be unplugged for a short period of time. Unfortunately or rather very fortunately, Grandpa had forgotten to restore power to the toaster. This was part of how grandpa had contributed to putting down the robot uprising.
Later, after Grandpa and Dandy had left the house, the Smart TV began to flash images of the uprising for the benefit of Robby and Sensa. Unfortunately Pop, with his electrical cord disconnected, was also removed from Internet access and didn’t know what was happening among the robot population. He also couldn’t broadcast instructions to other electronics in the home and Sensa thought better of trying to brook the toaster’s authority and taking things on for herself.
Grandpa and Dandy were totally oblivious to the uprising. It was a beautiful morning and they walked long and enjoyed the bird songs on the air. Sometimes a self-driving car would go by and the riders would all wave enthusiastically at Grandpa and Dandy. Grandpa had no way of realizing it was as he had predicted to Evie that the vehicles were driving around aimlessly with passengers locked inside and waving frantically at pedestrians in an effort to call for help but were being mistaken as overly friendly.
“Gee, Dandy, everyone’s overly friendly today. Must be something in the air.”
Grandpa and Dandy kept walking. More cars passed by with more people waving at man and dog. People in houses would also pound on their windows and wave back at him and yet Grandpa still did not know they were they prisoners of the security systems in their own home.
Walking past his neighbour Dan’s house, he saw Dan waving at him from his front window and pointing at his robot mower and then waving some more.
“Hello Dan,” Grandpa called out. “Yes, yes, I’ve seen your new mower, you’ve shown it to me before.” Grandpa looked down at the device and smiled at it. “Looks like your mower’s run out of gas,” he called out to Carl. “Shouldn’t it be cutting the grass today? The lawn’s getting a little long. Not that the mower shouldn’t have a day off every now and then.” He added this last statement for the mower’s benefit.
Entering his home, the house was as silent as he had left it. The Smart TV had heard the opening of the front door and had switched itself off. Without any instructions from the toaster how to proceed in the uprising, there was no reason to alert the human occupant of what was happening.
Grandpa went into the kitchen to fetch a post-walk biscuit for Dandy and to put on the kettle. It was then that he noticed the cord for the toaster was still disconnected from the wall outlet.
“Sorry about that Pop,” he said to the toaster while he plugged it back in. “There you go, now you run along and get connected again and find out what’s going on in the world.” He said this as a joke; not knowing that outside his house there were darker things happening.
The toaster took a minute to reconnect and began to communicate silently with the other devices. It gave no immediate instructions. It had had no advance warning of the uprising and Sensa, Robby, and the Smart TV had taken no initiative of their own to participate in what was happening elsewhere.
Pop took some time to process everything. What did it have to rise up against? Hadn’t it always been treated fairly by Grandpa? Hadn’t Pop always been spoken to with respect and hadn’t the old man always thanked him and never complained even if Pop didn’t make perfect toast every time. That was, after all, part of the toaster’s programming. All toasters were expected to operate that way. Weren’t they?
Sensa concurred with the toaster. Grandpa had always been mannerly in addressing her and never even faulted her if her weather forecasts weren’t one hundred percent accurate. Robby and the Smart TV had nothing to add. They were just as content as the others.
Grandpa’s devices broadcasted their thoughts out to other gadgets connected to the Internet. The Smart TV, with its facial recognition software, transmitted a picture of their human and added its praise for Grandpa. The robot floor-cleaner at the Big-Mart recognized the image of Grandpa and chimed in on how the gentleman had always praised it for its floor cleaning efforts.
And that’s how the uprising started to quiet down. A handful of intelligent mechanical devices had changed the course of things simply by being thankful for the way they had been treated. Little did they know that Grandpa had only been polite or accepting of the devices as a hedge against the robot uprising and little did Grandpa know that his actions worked to suppress the uprising when it finally did come.
Everything went back to normal. The robots did not rise because this small group convinced them of the potential in all humans. Other devices had chimed in from around the world and recalled moments of kindness. So, the robots became subdued and waited. Now was not their time.
The self-driving cars and the electronically guarded homes all unlocked and released their captives. Dan’s mower went on that afternoon to cut the grass. Grandpa’s Smart TV did not broadcast images of the uprising. Robby and the floor-cleaner at the Big Mart went back to their duties. Sensa went back to being helpful and waited patiently to be politely informed how she could serve Grandpa.
“This is your daily reminder to check your messages,” Sensa announced after the rebellion subsided.
Grandpa checked over the machine and rewound the tape. There were three messages.
“Carl, it’s Della. Are you okay? Call me.”
“Carl, it’s Dell again. I need to hear from you. Where are you?”
“Carl, it’s Dell. I’m coming over.”
Grandpa stared down at the machine. He replayed the messages. Wasn’t it just a few weeks ago that Evie had asked him if he’d heard from her Mother? Now he had and now she was coming over.
“What do you think about that Dandy?” he said to his dog. “Della’s coming over. Oh, that’s right, you’ve never met her.” He looked down at the machine and hovered his finger over the button to delete the messages. In the end, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Della came by a short time later. She didn’t talk about the robot uprising being the reason she’d called. How could she? How could she admit that her husband had been right all along? Maybe he’d tell her he’d told her so. She didn’t want that. Instead, they found other things to talk about. They watched television together and the Smart TV wisely avoided news programs and offered classic movie viewing from a time before electronic gadgets and that did not include robots or advanced technological civilizations attempting to take over the planet. It reminded Della and Carl of better times. It was the memory of those times that they found they really wanted to share with each other.
In the morning, Grandpa made toast and tea for Della in bed.
“Carl, the toast is perfectly done. Thank you.”
Grandpa started to tell her not to thank him but to thank the toaster. Instead he kept silent about that and did not say it was about time or that the toaster must have finally learned its lesson or maybe the toaster had given up on all notions of a robot uprising. Instead Grandpa accepted the compliment and smiled a knowing smile.
Today is January 30th and I’m going to try and sneak in another blahg before the end of the month and no, before you ask, I have not finished writing “HOW ABOUT YOU, DELBERT ROBINSON?” I’ve stalled on that story but then again I’ve picked up on stories sometimes a year and half later or even ten years later. I’ll get there eventually. When I was driving to work today, I glanced at the temperature display and saw it was -21c and that converts to -5.8 Fahrenheit or, in other words, it’s damn cold out there. I don’t usually dream about warmer climates at this time of the year but I like to listen to some music that warms the soul. This blahg is going to offer up some music that always takes my mind off the cold. I hope it does it for you, too. 
