Good Morning Ted and Jody:
There was no epic battle this morning. I simply gave in and got up. I watered the pots while it was still in the 40s. Immediately after watering I picked a quart of blueberries before the sun could shine on them. So, all in all, I successfully avoided sweat this morning. Since it was not yet 7:30 I thought, surely I must have time for breakfast at MickyDee. So, I took the time. Since there was not a cloud in the sky, the temperature last night dropped into the 40s. That, however, will not prevent it from reaching close to 90 later today. Now that my daily chores are over, except for gathering all the trash for LJ to haul to the road later, I can probably squeeze in that nap I missed the last few days because of the epic battles.
While at the Factor Outlet in Seaside OR last Monday, I picked up a book, Vincent Ryan Ruggiero, The Art of Thinking: A Guide to Critical and Creative Thought, 5th ed., NY: Longman, 1998. ON page 12 Ruggiero quotes Ernest Dimnet from his 1928 book, The Age of Thinking. It struck me so I am appending it as a jpg file (I scanned it). What struck me about the quote is that it explains why so many people glom onto half baked and simple ideas or explanations and then use them to guide themselves through the uncertainty of life. The idea that someone or something knows what the hell is going on must be very appealing. Anyway..
Warmest regards, Ed
Fiction in 918 words by T. Edward Westen, 2017
[July 29, 1926, 1:00 P.M., Ladoga, WY, Sheriff’s Department] Antonio Persico again stopped in front of the Sheriff’s Department glass entry door to adjust his tie. The middle aged man, behind him, carrying a satchel in each hand almost ran into him. The middle aged man looked irritated until he saw his reflection in the door and realized that Antonio Persico could read his irritation, if, and that was a big if, Antonio Persico could take his eyes off himself. Deputy Sheriff LeLoup watching from the reception desk was amused at the show. ‘It must be close to a one-way mirror with the sunlight overhead,’ thought Deputy Sheriff LaLoup. ‘This is going to be an interesting interview. I wonder how the concocted dying statement from one of his gunmen is going to impact him and Lawyer McDermit? Larry does not look happy with his new client.’
Finally tearing himself away from his reflection in the door, Antonio Persico opened the door and strode in. The door swung shut behind him hitting his newly hired attorney on the shoulder. Lawyer McDermit staggered, regained his balance and composure and manage to squeeze through the door still holding on to the two satchels. Determiner spoke from behind Antonio Persico. “Tell the Sheriff I am here with my client Mr. Antonio Persico of Tuscon Arizona as requested, Deputy.”
Deputy Sheriff LeLoup looked up from his pretense of reading an important piece of paper on the reception desk and said, “Oh, hi, Larry. The Sheriff has been delayed. Have a seat he ought to be here in a minute or two.”
Antonio Persico was not a man used to waiting. Deputy Sheriff LeLoup watched him out of the corner of his eye pace while still pretending to study an important document. Antonio Persico paced the length and breadth of the reception area. After 10 minutes or so, Antonio took his coat off and hung it on the back of a chair. After another 10 minute, he loosened the tie that he had so maliciously adjusted before coming in and unbuttoned the top button on his shirt. Then he rolled up his sleeves. Finally, he removed his vest and complained, “It is hot in here. Don’t you have a fan.”
Deputy LeLoup pointed up to the ceiling fan and said, “Pull the string.”
Antonio Persico pulled the string and walked over to where his attorney sat propped up in a corner chair snoozing and kicked the chair starling his attorney into wakefulness. “Huh, wassamatter?”
“No sleeping on my nickel,” said Antonio Persico. “You’re the mouth piece, start talking and get me out of this place before I melt.”
“It is cooler this time of day at the Rusty Nail Cafe around the corner,” said Lawyer McDermit. “I’m sure the Deputy wouldn’t mind calling us over there when the Sheriff gets back.” Turning to Deputy LeLoup, “Would you Deputy?”
“No problem,” said Deputy LeLoup.
Antonio Persico gathered his coat and vest and headed towards the door when the Sheriff came in. “About time you got here,” grumbled Antonio Persico.
Sheriff Gilbertson stopped abruptly holding the door open and said, “Hi, Larry, another one for the gallows?
“What to hell is that supposed to mean?” snarled Antonio Persico.
“Didn’t Larry tell you, his last murder case client got himself hung,” replied Sheriff Gilbertson.
Lawyer McDermit shrugged his shoulders, “I told him to keep his mouth shut. But, no he was too clever. After being convicted of the 1st-degree murder of his parents he wanted mercy because he was an orphan. Judge Haney didn’t like that at all.”
“Let’s go in my office,” said Sheriff Gilbertson. He turned to Deputy LeLoup, “Call over to the Rusty Nail and get us a large pitcher of ice tea with four glasses.” He turned to Antonio Persico, “Perhaps we should start fresh. You haven’t made a good impression on me so far.” He stuck out his hand and said, Matthew Gilbertson, Sheriff Matthew Gilbertson.”
“Antonio Persico, I am sorry but it is hotter than the dickens in here and I am used to fans and blocks of ice down in Tucson. I fear I get a bit surely when I am hot and sweating.”
Finding seats in the Sheriff’s office around a large conference table the Sheriff said, “OK, but since this is my home turf try a little harder than normal not to be surly.” The Sheriff sat down holding a piece of paper. “Let’s get right to it. I have the dying statement of one of the killers saying that you,” pointing to Antonio Persico hired them to kill your wife, Norma Rae Persico.” He slid the paper across the table to Antonio Persico”
Antonio Persico read the statement and then shook his head and said, “This is all wrong and it isn’t Mike’s signature anyway.”
Lawyer McDermit placed his hand on his client’s arm and said, “Be quiet Mr. Persico.” He turned to the Sheriff, “Mat, my client and I are leaving.” He stood up and Antonio Persico followed him out of the Sheriff’s Office and building.
When Deputy Sheriff LeLoup entered the Sheriff’s Office with the ice tea he raised an eyebrow.
“Just as we thought,” said Sheriff Gilbertson. “The guy is guilty as sin. He even named ‘Mike’ as the one who scribbled the phony signature.” He held up the phony dying declaration and said, “Doesn’t look a bit like Mike to me.”