Good Morning Ted and Jody:
Nancy told me last night she had sunshine and 70+ temperatures in Three Rivers yesterday. Did any of that stuff leak into Isabell County?
This morning I decided to go into Longview and visit the Dollar Store for some play money. While I was at it, I thought what a perfect opportunity for breakfast out. So, I pulled into MickyDee and took my blood sugar and then looked for my insulin pen. No pen. So, I bought a diet cola to drown my sorrows. A fellow I knew as there. He had finished his breakfast and so I sat down and talked to him. We got on the subject of Viet Nam. We both remember our draft number from when they reinstituted the draft. Funny what sticks in one’s mind (In my case I won the lottery outright with a 365. He won with a 279, but his win took longer to realize). Then I went to the dollar store and got the play money and then came home to an uninspiring home cooked breakfast.I had an idea for a monograph cover for Democratize Money using play money to fill a fat stick man. Why play money? I’m glad you asked. I didn’t want to violate any treasury restrictions (federal law) on copying money. Besides the play money was not copyright protected as far as I can tell. Anyway, here is what I had in my mind’s eye.
I trust this finds you in good spirits, good health and not suffering too much from the heat to the south of you.
Warmest regards, Ed
047 Put A Monitor on Alice
Fiction in 786 words by T. Edward Westen, 2017
Special Agent Fleishman and Detective Philipson appeared in Judge Douglas Henderson’s court room. The bailiff was sitting in a seat by the door and stirred a bit when the two men appeared but did not awaken. “Protecting the courtroom, Alphonse?” asked Special Agent Fleishman as he shook the man’s shoulder.
Alphonse sputtered a bit. His eyes opened and he looked around. “Where is everyone?”
“That’s what we wanted to ask you,” replied Special Agent Fleishman.
Looking around at almost familiar surroundings, Detective Philipson said, “So this is what the future looks like.” He chuckled, “Same room, same furnishing, same bailiffs. What has changed?”
Special Agent Fleishman looked around and said, “Now that you mention it, I can see the similarity to courts going back to the Middle Ages. I suppose the trappings of Justice need to be somewhat stable as things change, justice needs to be the same—fair and impartial. I guess I never thought about the ‘trappings’ making up an environment in which we dispense justice.” Still looking around, “But where is the dispenser of justice and Edith Gunderson?”
Much more awake at this point, the bailiff said, “They went to dinner at the Periods Restaurant.”
Special Agent Fleishman chuckled, “We will never find them there.”
“Why not?” asked Detective Philipson.
“The place is set up to dine in authentic surroundings and eat authentic food cooked and served by authentic folks from almost any year in history,” replied Special Agent Fleishman.
“Do you mean they can replicate a 1955 A&W Root Beer Stand?” asked Detective Philipson. “My dad courted my mom who was a car hop at one of those. I would love to visit one.”
“No, they don’t replicate one; they take you there,” replied Special Agent Fleishman.
Edith Gunderson and Judge Henderson sat under un parapluie sur une table
at a sidewalk café in Paris, 1925. “Whatever made you chose this place Judge?” asked Edith.
“Well, 1925 is between two catastrophic wars. It was the height of romance in France; and I love a painting from this era or perhaps 50 years earlier depicting street dining,” replied Judge Henderson. “Besides,” the Judge added, “The last seven times I was here, this café served the most delicate red wine—it was their house wine.”
Edith laughed out loud. “I suppose you are going to tell me you always bring visiting case workers to this spot.”
Judge Henderson shook his head. “No, my wife died 34 years ago’ you ae the first woman I have felt comfortable enough with to share this quiet corner of time and space.”
Edith smiled and said, “Thank you, that is he nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. I do have one question.”
The Judge nodded, “If you love this place so much, why do you go back?
The Judge looked serious. “In less than 15 years from where we sit now, the world will erupt in flames. If a person stays in the past, they stop living. Life involves unpredictable things every day. Those unpredictable things give us reason to live, to adjust, to grow. Living in the past removes the reasons for living. We visit the past in our minds all the time. But we don’t stay in our past any more than we can stay in a past that was not ours. Jus like the past we have inside, our memories, it is fun to visit the real past and enjoy the wine from time to time but to stay would be suicide.”
The waiter brought their wine. “Puis-je vous demander autre chose?
“Merci non,” replied the Judge.
“But you have taken the time to learn the language,” observed Edith Gunderson.
“A bit,” replied the Judge. “It adds to the pleasure of the experience.”
Edith sipped her wine, “Yes, this is delightful. Thank you for sharing.”
Special Agent Fleishman and Detective Philipson waited in the Periods Restaurant foyer.
When Judge Henderson and Edith Gunderson emerged from the doors marked ‘The Great Egress,” they were chatting. Edith was speaking, “. . . I think you showed great restraint when . . .” She interrupted herself when she spied the Special Agent and Detective, “Planning a dining excursion gentlemen?”
“No, Mam. We are looking for you,” replied Special Agent Fleishman who then explained how they had missed capturing Sylvia Chu and had come to her for a suggestion.
Edith scratched her chin. “We, I mean the Judge, awarded temporary custody of Jessica Ann to Alice Beaverton this afternoon. One condition she must meet is to stay in this time. I recommend we put an ankle monitor, or whatever the current technology allows, on her. Then if she is hopping about in time we will know.”