All of you
afflicted with Paraskevidekatriaphobia (yeah, I had to look it up) seemed
to have survived the mother of all Friday the 13ths, complete with
full moon. My luck certainly was in
flux. I wrote a few weeks ago about
payback to the wife by agreeing to go to a dinner theater event she arranged
with the Panamanian Mafia even though I arguably had better things to do. Those better things involved a First Friday
celebration with my son to kick off Father’s Day followed by Zorba’s.
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| The Mafia |
As I wrote at
the time I knew my arguments would rightly fall on deaf ears as I get to do
that (minus the filial element) virtually every Friday. I resigned myself to the inevitable and
continued marital bliss by succumbing to her feminine wiles. The night turned out to be a lot of fun
mainly due to the company we were blessed to spend the evening with. The play, not so much.
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| The Wife Enjoying the Evening |
The location was
extremely cool, a 300 year old tavern called the Salem Cross Inn in a nearby
town. There were a lot of exposed post
and mortar beams and the place carried a real feel of old New England. I’ve driven by it dozens of times and never
stopped in but that will change. The
food was especially good.
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| I Did Too |
The play was a
murder mystery called Flower Power and the Hippie Revolution. The audience was encouraged to show up in
1960s hippie garb but we declined. My
penitent attendance was only going so far.
The play involved a bunch of actors interacting with the audience but
the plot (if there was one) never really went anywhere. I don’t know if this was an experiment or
something but the actors would bring out personal letters and read most of
their lines.
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| Flower Power |
So the play was
kind of a letdown but doing something different while hanging with good friends
in such an interesting environment made the night a resounding success. We made our way home through the misty night
to link up with our son who came down for Father’s Day weekend, so the night
ended especially well.
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| Extensive Planning for Mother Son Dance Started Right Away |
I finished a
book this week by he who shall forever be referred to in this blog as “The
Master”, Stephen King, with his latest, Mr. Mercedes. This book was a bit of a departure for him as
there was no supernatural element involved but there was certainly plenty of
his trademark evil. The story involved
the titular serial killer who attempts to induce the retired lead detective
from his case into suicide. His efforts
have the exact opposite effect by getting the moribund detective back on his
investigative horse.
The book
contained King’s usual rich descriptive prose and character definition. It reminds me how superior his writing is to
my usual light fare. He tells the story
alternating viewpoints bouncing between the killer and the detective. While the story starts out a bit slow King
soon had me hooked as the tension builds towards the climatic
confrontation. King is so good at
getting the reader to look one way while setting up a huge change of plot
direction. I could not put the book down
after the half-way point as the detective and the unlikeliest pair of fellow
heroes matches wits with the diabolical killer.
King remains – “The Master”.
Finally – Happy
Birthday to the big green machine, my beloved United States Army. We had a tentative first date but after more
than a quarter century in uniform you mean so much to the person I am and the
country I love. You remain the iron clad
fist of American military power and the single greatest force for freedom in
the history of mankind. Hoo ahhhhh!!!!
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