OPWA Update
November 2016
"Your book
captures the essence of what makes Americans special. I loved it."
Book Signing in SMA
I was sitting on one side of the grand
entry hall in a beautiful hacienda in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. The books sat on a table on the
opposite side of the hall. A kind
lady would exchange the patron's money for a book and write the name(s) to whom
they'd like it signed on a yellow stick-it note, and send them my way. This continued for nearly two hours. I
signed over 100 books including those that had been purchased prior to my
arrival. Afterwards there were toasts and little speeches.
A handsome man about my age
offered the kindest praise, and I paraphrase, "You've captured the essence
America. I'm a German
immigrant. I was raised in Germany
during the Marshall Plan, but moved to the U.S. at a young age. I've always loved this country, and I'm
fascinated to learn as much as I can about Americans and what makes them tick. Thanks for writing these stories. I
absolutely loved reading about the extraordinary people from the middle of the
country about whom coastal people never hear."
Another early reader shared,
"My favorite story was about Wylie.
I am also a writer (She teaches at the writer's workshop in SMA), and I
was taken by how you constructed the story. I was laughing and crying intermittently."
Thanks to Californians Liz Dietz
and Ed Lopez for hosting the book signing at their spectacular home in
SMA. The food, music, and A+ guest
list all contributed to a great evening.
Thanks to Howard Haynes and Bill Harris, of Chapter 3 fame in OPWA, for
their efforts in making the event a success and for hosting us for several
delightful comidas (luncheons).
Lastly, thanks to Bob Fay for making the introductions that led to the
Sally, Howard, and Bill story.
San Miguel de Allende Revisited
It was my second visit to this
lovely corner of the world, Judy's first.
We traveled with Bob and Susan Fay, and Bob continues to be the best
advance man in the world. We would
stroll around the cobblestone lanes near the Jardin and would surprisingly and
pleasingly encounter people who had read the book.
One day Susan, Judy, and I caught
a cab at a location near the Jardin (Garden). Owing to the Dias de la Muertas (Day of the Dead) holiday, everything
was very busy, but after a lengthy wait we were picked up. The cabs are all tiny and green, making
them suitable for the narrow lanes and ways.
I sat in the front seat and
carried a lap full of shopping bags for the ladies sitting in the rear. I also held Susan's cane. I gave the driver directions, 'Veintedos
Grillo en Guadiana' in my pathetic attempt at Spanish, and we were off. I took a glance at our cabbie and
observed that he resembled an extreme version of the caricature of the Mexican
villain often portrayed in Western movies. He was big and had long black hair. He wore a collared, but
sleeveless, shirt displaying a tattoo on his right bicep of a dagger with
dripping drops of blood. He was
very dark skinned and had a Pancho Villa moustache and wispy beard. About halfway
home to our rented house, I couldn't locate Susan's cane, giving me a micro
panic attack. I asked Judy and
Susan if it was back with them. Then shuffling through the packages, I found
the cane in my lap. I laughed at
myself and said something about being a knucklehead.
The faux-sinister cabbie laughed
sympathetically and said in passable English, and in a squeaky tinny voice,
"I know the feeling, I've done that myself."
More Howard and Bill Stories
We dined on several occasions
with Howard and Bill during our visit, several times as guests in their
hacienda and several times at local restaurants. My favorite spot was Nirvana, a restaurant located near the
World Heritage site of the Sanctuary of Atotonilco. Over dinners Howard and Bill shared a few more stories:
Lady Sarah Spencer-Churchill used
to live in SMA. She was blond,
pretty, tall (6'), rich, and in possession of a powerful personality. She was the daughter of the 10th Duke
of Marlborough, a Vanderbilt heiress (her American grandmother was a Vanderbilt
ala Downton Abbey), and the aunt of Princess Diana.
Howard picks up the tale, "I
was standing next to Lady Churchill in a receiving line. She was tall and gorgeous. She was wearing a rope of pearls, a
rope of diamonds, a rope of sapphires, and a rope of rubies. I said, 'Lady Churchill, you look
lovely, but may I ask, did you leave any jewels in the vault?'"
"She replied, 'YOU may call
me Sarah.'
On a separate occasion Howard and
Bill were dining with Lady Sarah and Diana Rigg, an English actress, at one of
the nicest and most expensive restaurants in SMA. "The service was uncommonly terrible, and near the end
of the experience Lady Churchill raised her hand to gain the waiter's
attention. When he arrived at
their table she said in an agitated voice, 'I was raised in Blenheim
Palace. Had we ever had service
this bad, heads would roll!'"
"The astonished waiter, smiled,
bowed, and said, 'Muchas gracias senora.'"
Montclair
A special thanks to Mother-in-law
Doris Witt for organizing a speech and book signing at her home in the
Montclair Retirement Community in Springfield, MO. The event was well attended, and we sold 21 books. I told
the story of Sally Rand (Chapter 3) to the assembled group, and one of the
gentlemen in the audience shared that he knew Sally and her brother well as
they grew up together in Elkton, MO.
He recounted how Sally would buy new cars for her nephews on a regular
schedule.
Sales Update
Sales of OPWA are now at 492 copies. Thanks to all who have purchased a
book, and special thanks to those who have written reviews on Amazon or shared
the word with others.
I was checking my sales records
of Nude Nuns and Other Peculiar People and noted that I sold 560 copies
in the first few months after its release. NNAOPP has now surpassed 1,500 copies.
Judy pointed out that Herman
Melville only sold 3,000 copies of Moby Dick during his lifetime. I've subsequently set a new personal
goal of besting Melville.
Christmas is coming, and my
fulfillment center is stocked and ready to ship / deliver as many books as
you'd like to purchase for that very special person. Copies may be purchased for the everyday low price of $12.50
plus $3.50 for shipping. No
shipping charge for orders of three copies or more. Remember! Only you can help
me beat Melville!
Should you have an interest in
further musings, read on. Have a
great Thanksgiving holiday.
Chuck
More Stories
Burying the Dog They
Never Knew
The plan was to spend Saturday
with grandchildren Waverly (7), Finn (6), and Charlie (6) to help put the
finishing touches on the cabin I have been building for the boys. Specifically, we were going to paint
the front door a bright yellow on the outside and bright blue on the inside to
accommodate differing preferences.
The kids were also going to help me set up our teepee and enjoy a crisp,
sunny fall day fishing in the pond and running around the farm.
But serendipity raised its joyous
head, and our energies were temporarily diverted. The kids explored the barn and its environs while I got
organized. We were retrieving
teepee poles from a far corner of the barn, and Waverly discovered a wooden
cross I built fifteen years ago.
She inquired, "What's this Papa?"
And I told her, "That's a
cross I was going to use to bury Casey, our dog from long ago."
"Where's the grave?"
"I never got around to
that."
She then discovered a little tin
box containing the ashes of our dearly departed canine labeled 'Casey Wells, 2000.' It never occurred to me that dogs had
last names, but that's apparently the case with pet crematories. There was also a little tin labeled for
the family's third and final cat, 'Megan Wells, 2004.' Waverly suggested,
"Why don't we bury them now?"
And we set about to do exactly that.
We hopped on my trusty Kawasaki
Mule, the four of us snuggled tightly in the front seat. We drove past the two largest ponds,
crossed the creek at the low-water bridge, and picked a sun-speckled spot located
in the dead center of our heavily forested 160 acres. I dug an appropriately
sized hole into which Finn tenderly placed Casey's tin. Charlie followed suit with Megan's tin,
but quickly retracted her saying, "I don't want to bury Megan. Let's put her back on the shelf."
And the kids wanted to hear
stories about the pets their Mother had as a child. Casey was a giant, but gentle, yellow Labrador
retriever. We acquired him as a
pup when Ben turned seven. I never
once saw him expose his canines in anger.
He was the dog version of the amiable character Barney Rubble. Most memorably, he was a fine eater.
Megan was the offspring of
Heather, who was the offspring of Martina, whom we acquired when Lucy was seven
from the farm of Dave and Jeanne Martin.
Megan had the distinction of being born in our master bedroom closet, a
scene witnessed by Ben and Lucy, adding to their early knowledge of mammalian
birthing. Shortly thereafter
Heather died at the hands, mouth actually, of a hungry fox who apparently
invaded our yard from nearby Brush Creek.
Megan was a superb hunter and
would often adorn our front porch with the carcasses of mice and baby rabbits. Lucy
once wrote about the 'light snacks' Megan would procure. In addition to keeping our yard critter
free, she lived in perfect harmony with Casey from whom she adopted some
dog-like habits. She would follow
Judy and me on our evening walks around our neighborhood.
And after sharing these
remembrances and saying a prayer, the kids gently re-placed the dirt on Casey's
grave. We pounded the sharpened
end of the cross into the moist earth using a short handled sledgehammer, a
task that Waverly mastered quickly, delivering each blow with great enthusiasm.
Three Cheeseburgers
and a Twenty
Mark Martin accompanied me to the
farm last week to burn debris. It
was a wind free day, and I had several winter's worth of Osage orange, locust,
and cedar piles to clear out of various staging spots. The recently completed cabin required
90 logs 11' long, with diameters of 6-8". Each required cutting down a tree approximately 25'+ in height
leaving a great deal of residue.
By mid morning we had the central
pile of wood burning with great vigor.
Then I would push subsidiary pyramids of biomass using the bucket on the
tractor like a bulldozer blade.
All was going well until around 1 pm. Just as I had pushed a large pile of dead cedar limbs into
the fire I heard an unwanted hissing sound mindful of a tire going flat. I backed the tractor away from the fire
with the tire on the rim and pondered.
A functioning tractor was essential to continually banking the raging
fire.
The valve stem had been ripped
from the wheel. I called K's Tires
in nearby Lawrence and explained my predicament. The guy said, "Bring it in, I'll see what we can
do."
For those unfamiliar with the front
wheel on a FWD John Deere 5075E tractor, they are heavy. Had Mark not been there, I could not
have lifted the wounded part onto the Mule and then into our trustee Toyota
van.
Upon arriving at K's Tires, the
owner, Jimmy said, "I should be able to get to it before the end of the
day."
I spoke to him of the urgency of
the fire, and said we'd go grab a something to eat. "Can I bring you something?"
Jimmy replied, "That sounds
great. One of my guys hasn't eaten because he ran out of paycheck before he ran
out of month. How about cheeseburgers?"
We returned from Five Guys about
30 minutes later with three extra cheeseburgers, one for each of the tire guys
along with fries. My tire was fixed.
A giant young man single handedly placed it in the van. I delivered the cheeseburgers to Jimmy
and said how much? "$10."
I gave him a twenty, and we were on our way. And the forest was saved from a potentially disastrous
inferno owing to three cheeseburgers and a twenty.
