My son is many things, all of which I am extraordinarily
proud of – a prodigous phone conversationalist (like his mother) however is not
amongst his many charms. After his
stunning fantasy football win he felt the need to call and talk at length last
night for some reason; dare I say gloating over vanquishing his poor
downtrodden parents (okay – I added the downtrodden for dramatic affect). He’s enjoying a staycation at home for the
rest of the year waiting for the new job to start while sending the ABFA out to
work each morning. All right – he’s
earned some gloating time.
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| Party Time in Cali |
This call was followed shortly thereafter by a video call
from our favorite California residents.
My daughter gave us a walking tour of her new apartment with Pee Wee the
Fearful acting as guide. Wingman had
done yeoman’s work in getting the place set up and she worked her first day
from there yesterday – mirroring her NYC hours remotely from Cali. I was struck by how happy both of them looked
and acted. I cannot be selfish enough to
regret their move so far away if I can take the evidence of how bubbly they
both were even with a lot of boxes to still unpack; they were glowing.
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| So Happy! |
They were trying to explain to me how to take a screenshot on
the I-Pad before giving up in the face of my ineptitude which became fodder for
additional filial ridicule (kind of a theme last night). This was their third night in California and they’d
already been to two parties and passed on another last night to focus on
unpacking and my daughter’s east coast wake up time regimen. Just before we hung up Pee Wee the Fearful wanted
some screen time so he could talk smack to a certain black lab now that he was
3000 miles away. Buddy was not impressed
(the humans snarkily provided evidence on how to take screen shots).
Yesterday I had a bit of a startling revelation while completing
my latest Travis McGee novel, The Green Ripper. John D. MacDonald not only created McGee but
he can legitimately lay claim to planting the seed that grew into Jack Reacher –
more on that later. You’ll recall that
in the last book McGee had found another lady whom he wanted to spend the rest
of his life with. I was astonished that MacDonald let the lady survive the
book. Well that lasted all of the first
chapter of The Green Ripper.
McGee’s Gretel is mysteriously murdered because of someone she saw by
chance.
This sends McGee into a deep funk but he soon on the trail
of the mysterious killers – much to their ultimate regret. Here’s where I think Reacher is born. McGee jettisons his worldly possessions/identity
and hitchhikes the back roads to northern California to find an elusive sect of
crazies. He also makes heavy use and description
of his military experience. I was half
way through the book when I stopped and said to myself, “Wait a minute – this is
Reacher!” Reacher’s author, Lee Child,
actually wrote the foreword to this Kindle generation of McGee novels so I may
be on to something. I always knew
Reacher had some impressive bloodlines and it’s strangely comforting to have a connection
between these two members of my pantheon of literary heroes.
Finally, as always, some of MacDonald’s magic words from The
Green Ripper. Here McGee is reflecting
on his loss of Gretel and the ensuing costs incurred by everybody, including himself: “There was no great moment of my saying “aha”
or “eureka!” It just slowly came clear,
like the mist rising on a mountain morning.
There was a black, deep, dreadful ravine separating me from all my
previous days. Over there on the other side
were the pathetic and innocent little figures of world-that-once-was. McGee and his chums. McGee and Gretel. McGee and his toys and visions. I could not approach the edge of that ravine
and look down. Far below were the bodies
of the dead. And here I was, on this
side. This side was today. This side was the crystal taste of icy gin,
the brute weight of tropic sun, the tiny beads of sweat on my forearm, the
lovely lines of the Magnum Maltese, those popcorn white gulls way out there,
afloat after feeding. Viv’s glad little
cries of love, the way the stars would shine tonight, the way the clams would
taste, the way we would fit together as we slept. I tasted all the tastes of today and felt in
me a rising joy that this could be true.
I had raised myself up from many madnesses to be exactly what I am. It had become too constant a pain to try
endlessly to be what I thought I should become.”
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