Good Morning Ted and Jody:
I find I had a day that was like days of old—work, work, work. You remember the workshop Ron Primeau and his side kick put on for us English Composition draftees (volunteers)? Well, yesterday I used the tactic we learned there of reading my Democratize Money out loud to find and correct errors and improve the flow. I did not finish, but in a few days, I will. I can already see improvements using the trick of reading out loud. The whole thing boils down to my drinking a lot of diet cola to keep my voice lubricated and then running to the restroom to make room for more diet cola.
I have not seen any news since the Friday episode in the House of debate and then retract the bill. I would hazard that what I have missed is the damn fool talking heads speculating about what the pestilence has learned from all of this and what will happen next. If so, it would only confirm that they are still missing the point. There is a cancer in our midst, it is comprised of pestilence supporters and can only be removed if he takes them all to a quiet corner and builds a wall around them and him.
Nancy reported the weather had cooled down yesterday by 30 degrees (rain and no sun). Hell, she could have had that here.
I trust this finds you in excellent spirits, phenomenal health and toasty warm.
Warmest regards, Ed
048 Detective Philipson Takes a Nap
Fiction in 625 words by T. Edward Westen, 2017
‘As near as I can figure, I have been working 20 hours,’ thought Detective Eddie Philipson. ‘Yet the time on my watch says I came one duty an hour ago. I wonder how Special Agent Fleishman does it? He chuckled to himself, ‘If he is gone for a few seconds, he can parley that into a nap someplace for God knows how long. I can’t so I am going home and take a nap.’
Arriving home Detective Philipson collapsed on the couch and fell into a deep sleep. When his wife Maggie came home from work she found him there. She took off his shoes and covered him with a blanket and went into the kitchen to prepare dinner.
Shanking his shoulder, Maggie said “Wakeup, Eddie, its dinner time. I made barbequed ribs with your favorite apple barbeque sauce. Wakeup honey, wakeup”
Slowly Detective Philipson began to come around. “I thought I was dreaming about apple barbequed ribs,” he slurred.
Maggie smiled and said, “Tis the magic of cooking smells. Come on, get them while they are hot.”
Once her husband was seated and helping himself to ribs, Maggie, asked, “Why were you home early today? Is everything ok on the job?”
“No problems with the job,” he replied. “No one hurt or anything like that. It is just that in real time I worked for an hour, but actually put in 20 without a break.”
Maggie said, “That makes no sense at all.”
“If you think that is nuts, what till you hear why,” Eddie Philipson said to his wife. “I am working with a time traveler and we are looking for a woman from the future who abducted her daughter and is holed up in this time someplace.”
“But . . .” his wife started to say.
“Maggie, you have to listen, then there will be times for the buts,” said Detective Philipson. “This guy shows up in Edith Gunderson’s office, you know the woman from Child Protective Services I work with from time to time. You know, the woman who is the spitting image of that British actress. Dame something or other who played in all those old Agatha Christie movies. Well, he persuades Edith to put out a flyer on the woman from the future and her child. The woman from the future interacts with people who have come forward. She is a slippery one. We have been looking for her for a week and all we come up with is dead ends. Then yesterday the woman who abducted the child shows up in the future a few minutes after the actual abduction and wonders what all the fuss is all about. It turns out her ex-husband is a neglectful alcoholic and the abduces gets custody of the kid, a four-year-old girl named Jessica Ann. The thing is, my nose tells me that we are missing something as the ongoing crime of retroactive plagiarism the abductees was apparently committing continues. So, that is all nuts, but real.”
“That poor little girl,” said Maggie. “Do you remember Lou Ann and Mary Ann when we lived in the apartment?”
Detective Philipson looked quizzically at his wife. “The twins that no one knew were twins because they were never in the same place at the same time.?”
“Yes,” said Maggie, and when one went missing the other kept popping up to try to stop the search.”
“It worked,” replied her husband, “until we learned they were twins.” Detective Philipson paused, “I get the point, we need to be looking for two women from the future. Since we thought there was one when one went back it seemed to end the case.”
Maggie nodded her head. “Would you like some Key Lime pie for dessert?”