Good Morning Ted and Jody:
A little over a week ago, we sent my smartphone to Samsung to get it repaired. They fixed it and sent it back. It arrived yesterday. So, we hauled it into US Cellular to have it activated again. Reactivating it was the fastest part of our four visits (three to US Cellular and one to BestBuy where Samsung has technicians—it only took 30 minutes. Then to all that had been on the phone was still on the phone. That saved a long time and a lot of aggravation of moving stuff and reinstalling. It seems there was a defect in my battery—they called it a hardware problem (something about a slipping clutch on a 1934 Chevy, in other words, it made about as much sense to me). While I had enjoyed using the old Samsun Note with a stylus for the week, the camera is, I think a bit better. To test it I went out this morning and got three cloud shots between 7:30 and 7:40. These shots are always a crap shoot in the sense, that one cannot really see what is in the viewfinder (screen on the phone back) when shooting into the sun, even a sun mostly shaded by clouds. Fortunately, one can crop a bit to remove extraneous garbage bags left at the boat ramp or alongside the road. Then I celebrated with breakfast.
We got home yesterday afternoon as the NEWS broke on the speculation programs. My, my but there was a lot of speculation. I must say I was mesmerized by the slowly unfolding train derailment and spilling of the toxic rain cars. Actually, a load of radioactive waste spilling from rail cars would have been less catastrophic for the tattered remains of our democracy (the toxic possibilities were unfolding at the Hanford site at the same time. I suppose the pestilence will blame Obama for that too). I got to thinking that even if the pestilence were caught with a body in a wheelbarrow and a spade digging in the corner of the White House lawn it would be less of a wanton act of giving America the finger than his firing of the FBI Director. So,
Dear Former President Trump:
Please be advised that the American People have impeached you. We could not wait for those idiots in Congress to do it, so we have taken it upon ourselves. Remove yourself and your possessions from the White House immediately and stop using our vehicles, helicopters and airplanes for your travel.
Edward Westen, US citizen
I trust this finds you happy, healthy and have had your jaws raised from their drop yesterday.
Warmest regards, Ed
020 Seams (Petty) Crime in Time?
Fiction in 807 words by T. Edward Westen, 2017
“I expect coincides, but not at vastly different points on the timeline, “said Amanda White. “When I ran into Edith Gunderson in New Orleans in the spring of 1840 at a new restaurant, I was on a simple training run. There I saw a man using a power saw in an ally to open a door. It didn’t register at first. When it did, I went back and found the sawdust and neat hole in a wine storeroom. I pivoted a few times and learned that 10 bottles of a well-known vintage went missing. I then did a computer trace on wine auctions over the years and 10 bottles of that vintage showed up in a 1997 auction. There had only been the occasional bottle before and after that. All but the 10 could be traced to estates of collectors. I talked to the woman at the auction firm and she described the man who consigned those bottles to a sketch artist.” Agent Amanda paused and retrieved the sketch from her case. She tacked it up on the current cases board next to the photographs of Wilbur and Walter Seams.
While Agent Amanda had been explaining her close encounter with the Seams brothers in time, Detective Philipson had been running his fingers over the keyboard and finally, the printer kicked in. He took the paper off the printer and tacked it up one page next to each brother. “These guys have a laundry list of petty crimes or opportunity. Except for setting up a chop shop in a building scheduled to be torn town they show no planning. How they would know what wine to steal in what time segment is beyond what little criminal skills they show here.,” he said, pointing to the rap sheets.
“Good point,” said Agent Amanda. “I guess we need to know the criminal to understand he, or in this case, they, can’t be working alone.” She looked puzzled and then said, “I did check on all the former time travelers and concluded they were not in a position to have access to implants. However, given what Thomas Aldrich Edison has shown, there are other possibilities for traveling in time that do not require high energy and do not require ATI implants. I guess I had better check again.” She looked at the two detectives and Special Agent Fleishman and said, “I’ll be back.” She pivoted
“I don’t care what the man says, Walt, I say we take them all,” said Wilbur Seams.
Walter Seams looked around the vault. “There are a lot of them. What are we going to do with all of them?
“Take them to Mom’s garage and store them there,” replied Wilbur. “You know she never goes out there and if she did she wouldn’t know they weren’t supposed to be there. Then when we see how the man unloads the ones he wanted us to take, we’ll know how to unload the rest of them.” With that, he began to load the paintings into the cart they had brought with them. When they finished loading the cart, they and the cart vanished.
Appearing in a late 20th Century free-standing garage in a suburban neighborhood, the two Seams brothers unloaded the paintings, vanished along with their cart and reappeared three more times to unload three more times only to vanish a fourth time with a partially filled cart.
“What you gentlemen fail to
realize is that when you take them all, people notice they are missing right away. If you only took the ones I told you to take, they could have been missing for decades before anyone noticed they were missing,” said the tall man with the goatee and scar over his left eyebrow.
“What’s the big deal?” asked Wilbur. “That was hundreds of years ago and they ain’t going to track the paintings down through time.”
“I was visited by an Agent of ATI, just this morning,” replied the man with the goatee and scar over his left eyebrow. “This is her second visit. The first time she seemed convinced that I did not have access to their precious implants. She did not have a clue as to the alternative form of low energy time travel I have, err, invented and loaned to you two gentlemen. However, her suspicions are certainly raised by something. Could it be that a heist of all the painting in the museum value some hundreds of years ago raised her suspicions? She is effectively tracking you through time. Then it is only a matter of time that she or her colleagues catch you and inadvertently me. Put the paintings back, all of them.”
“But,” Wilbur started to say, but Walter grabbed him by the arm and interrupted.
“Yes, Sir,” Walter said and he and his brother vanished.