OPWA Update November 2016

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.