Memory Bin Ransacked

Kind of a crazy day yesterday, even given its dreaded Monday appellation. In the mid-afternoon I loaded up my houseful of Panamanian women and headed north for the calling hours for the Cantankerous Friend’s mom. After arriving in Keene we dropped off the PanaGals so they could properly genuflect at the altar known as TJ Maxx – a required stop in any shopping pilgrimage.

Cantankerous Friend and his Mom a Few Years Ago

My wife and I then went to the funeral home to join the Cantankerous One’s family in remembering their mom. It was at the same funeral home as my own mother’s funeral some 12 years ago so that was just one of the memories the day was competing with. There were so many others. I wrote a couple days ago about how close our families were when I was very young and it was kind of startling to see them all again with children and grandchildren after four decades. I was through the receiving line before I even processed that I’d said hi to the Cantankerous One’s two sisters. The last time I’d seen his youngest sister was in 1977 in the very same room for the funeral of her best friend at the time, my sister. I think her mom would have been pleased at the turnout yesterday as friends and family swirled around the grieving family who were obviously still a very close bunch.  They had over a hundred pictures of the family circulating on a nearby screen including conclusive evidence that the Cantankerous Friend's haircut hasn't changed in over half a century. Cantankerous Friend’s dad was out of the hospital and did his level best to be gracious and welcoming despite having the love of his life laying a few yards away. I was genuinely surprised at the depth of emotion and overwhelming sense of memory I experienced being around these fine people. It was a glimpse back to the happiest time of my own youth.

Wife and PanaGals Last Night

When we left my wife foisted me off on Keene Friend so she could see to the recovery of the PanaGals. Two hours later she reluctantly agreed to retrieve me so the Keene Friend could follow his usual routine instead of hosting me, yet again. I took them out to dinner with the attendant need to translate everything which was entertaining in and of itself. A long day considering the driving involved but well worth it to delve so deeply into the memory bin.

I also finished off my latest in the line of Mathew Scudder novels by Lawrence Block, 8 Million Way to Die. This was made into a very forgettable movie back in the 1980s where they moved the character to Los Angeles, one of the many crimes against humanity that Oliver Stone, who penned the script, is guilty of. Scudder needs to be in New York because that city is one of the major supporting characters in all of his books.

I truly enjoyed this latest story as Scudder is hired to break a prostitute away from her pimp only to have her killed a few days later. The pimp then hires Scudder to find the killer. If that’s not complex enough Scudder is also finally coming to terms with his alcoholism which serves as a yet another layer to this fascinating book. I think what I like best about Scudder is his dogged determination. He doesn’t make Sherlockian leaps of logic but keeps gnawing away at problems until he solves them. If you haven’t discovered Scudder yet – do yourself a favor.