Saturday evening was a fun time. Jerry Seinfeld was performing at the Fox Theatre MJ and I were there. The Fabulous Fox is indeed fabulous! The Fox is a restored 1920s Movie Palace. It is a lovely building. We had good seats with plenty of leg room said the Old Man who has cramped his legs into small spaces all of his life. We saw our friends Lee and Jim at Stage Left and enjoyed a nice visit. Seinfeld brought me out of feeling punk to glorious laughter. Jerry has that ability. It was the third time we had seen him perform and he does not disappoint. He is a master of observational humor. I laughed so hard I was not aware of the point I felt better. Seinfeld’s observances on mundane daily events is priceless. He causes the listener to see the world with a new set of eyes.

St. Charles is a destination for the Brooks and has been for many years. The quaint town was once the Capitol of Missouri. MJ and I noticed that either the brick sidewalks are becoming more uneven or we are getting older. Last year about this time I purchased a Fontanini Nativity Set beginning with the Holy Family and Three Wisemen. I was so pleased to find three more Wisemen to add to my special Nativity set. In view of the fact that I had three Wisemen already the next three will accompany our Holy Family Threesome that we got in Florence several years ago.

St. Louis is our city. We are 100 miles for it while 300 miles separate us from Chicago. Folks in St. Louis are no different than people in Carbondale. Friendly helpful with a few sourpusses.

Fall air has returned to us. The Old Man’s spirits have risen. The plans and schemes of my favorite time of year are here. Soon Turner Classic Movies will play the old Universal Theatre’s Monster movies. House will be festooned with Halloween lights which is a custom not observed in my early life. I think Halloween Lights are an attempt to bring Christmas on early. I heard a woman answer to the question ‘How are you,’ with her response ‘Living Life.’ How perfect I thought. We are about the business of living life. It comes with surprises around every corner including Six Wisemen.

Doughnuts are a great way to start the morning. The joy of simple things. I read that we should enjoy our silly little lives they are ours. As the years progress I learn to let me be me. Be good to all living things and be myself. Worry not what people think as long as I am authentic. It is a liberating philosophy. Most of what worries us never comes to past. The easy sense of place living life as it comes is fun. Be ready for anything. Be ready to be silly. Be ready for folks to laugh with you or at you. Laughter is good medicine.

Fall helps our silliness come to the surface. It is hard to be sober stoic business like when the Headless Horseman is riding by the campfire. Smores make you smile. Jack-O-Lanterns have a winning grin. St. Louis is a good place to enjoy life. We have been going there quite often this year. Sometime I feel a little silly in St. Louis. It is a good place to be silly.

Life brings some pain. Stress is hard to avoid. Friends come and go in the chapters of our life. Silliness and a light hearted attitude stays with you throughout the days. Comedy is vital to a balanced journey. I am a Seinfeld fan. MJ and I are slated to see him live tonight. We saw him live in Paducah, Kentucky about 20 years ago. The Seinfeld show plays often when I am in charge of the TV.

I say or respond to others something silly much of the day and night. I trained myself to look on the funny side of life as a child when so much of my surroundings were not so funny. My silly little responses are primarily designed to cause others to feel better uplifted secure. There is more than one way to approach problems.

So be a little silly. It is good for the soul. Some will like your upbeat personality while others will wonder what your hidden agenda is. If you think about it that is a good reason to be Silly!

‘We will see what is in the old mall,’ Chet said. ‘The lights are on someone is decorating of Christmas,’ Chet noted. ‘People enter the University Mall but no one leaves,’ Chet continued. ‘I walked in the Mall recently and passed a black lady a few times who stared at me intently then she disappeared,’ Chet said. ‘I walked the length of the Mall a few more times but never saw her,’ Chet commented. ‘Apparently there is custodial service the restroom was immaculate,’ Chet explained. ‘Somehow the Mall flourishes with no occupants,’ Chet mused. ‘Christmas music was playing as the empty store fronts stared at me as I passed them,’ Chet commented.

‘I was in the Mall last week; there was a Wicks and Sticks open, selling Tom Clark Gnomes and playing Christmas music along with offering holiday cookies,’ Neva J said. ‘Elizabeth, the proprietor, asked me to follow her to the basement where she would look for the Santa Claus Statue I was looking for,’ Neva J continued. ‘As I followed Elizabeth, her voice became fainter. I could not see her; she blended in with the carpet and walls,’ Neva J said. ‘Soon I was in the basement room by myself it connected to many rooms with connecting halls,’ Neva J note with fear in her voice. ‘Then I came upon a Wicks and Sticks store in an attached hall that looked like the one upstairs in the Mall,’ Neva J said with dismay. ‘Elizabeth was smiling broadly as she asked me if I had been to the upstairs store,’ Neva J explained. ‘She seemed a little off somehow with almost a painted-on smile and her voice sounded recorded,’ Neva J said.

‘Chet you know come to think of it I do not remember leaving the Mall yet I must have since I am here talking with you,’ Neva J said quizzically. ‘My last recollection is of Elizabeth laughing and my sinking into the carpet,’ Neva J said.

‘I am going back to the Mall to see if I can find me,’ Chet laughed. ‘I have felt a bit disconnected since I last visited the peculiar store,’ Chet commented. ‘This time I shall take all of you with me to witness the strangeness and perhaps to buy a Santa Claus for Christmas, Chet grinned.

‘My goodness the parking lot is full of cars,’ Jane said with surprise. ‘I do not know where everyone is going as there is one store in the entire humongous place,’ Jane proclaimed. ‘Let us enter to see what we can see,’ Jane laughed.

‘Please enter this door folks,’ the Doorman said. ‘Your experience will be enjoyable, the Doorman continued.

‘I swear it is as it was 50 years ago,’ Chet noted with astonishment. ‘There are the old restaurants and the theatre in the middle of the Mall people scurrying about shopping for Christmas,’ Chet observed. ‘Let us go in Wicks and Sticks to see if Elizabeth is still the Proprietor,’ Chet said.

‘Look there is a Christmas Statute of one of Santa’s elves and it looks exactly like me,’ Neva J said with delight.

Another calm evening. Quiet, serene, at peace. A hot September. The hottest since 1940. The setting sun gives a golden glow. We may lose September to an overwrought summer.

Influencer is a new term but an old avocation. Many are selling something. Repeated rhetoric is convincing if false. We believe the Big Lie. Especially if it is repeated enough times. Perception, true or false, becomes our reality. Once you take up residence in your perceived beliefs, it is hard to break out of the mold. Perhaps your friends and neighbors see the situation as you do. Challenge to the leader’s words is nonexistent. Following the leader has become a way of life. You have been sold a package of lies that you paid good money for and must, for your dignity, affirm as truth.

We poor of the land are a scrappy lot. Few take interest in us, and fewer help us. Former President Obama commented that in rural areas folks cling to their guns and Bibles. When you are ignored so long, it becomes a badge of honor. It becomes easy to say no to logic and truth from those who never cared what you thought in the first place. It is called being lonely in a crowd.

Leaders by election, religious groups, or fiat seek out those same mindsets, abilities, and personalities. The introverts are ignored. They often see the truth of the moment. Why is the leader saying what they are saying? Who benefits? How can our economy be improving as prices rise and people have less money for food, medicine, and housing? As the words spring forth, is there any evidence to back them up? Empirical study is important for reviewing false rhetoric. When the preacher says to give your finances until it hurts and you will become rich…is anyone becoming rich?
When the President’s Council is all in his head, is that a healthy exchange of ideas?

So the first day of fall is less than a week away. Time for pumpkin spice coffee and pumpkin spice cake. The days will cool. The nights grow long. Trees will display their glory in the last leaves. Hope will grow as we travel toward the holidays.

Holidays are fun, refreshing events that recharge our batteries. What were the holidays like for those who came before us? Neva J and Bill were members of the Greatest Generation. Bill was in the Pacific Theatre. Neva J was on the home front in Mt. Vernon, Illinois. Thoughts of being home for Christmas were heavenly. The world at war. They did not know if the Allies would win or if they would see each other again. We, little people, have big thoughts; live big lives; dream big dreams. A little man named Adolf Hitler had decimated Europe. His plan of telling the Big Lie often enough that people would believe the lie worked extraordinarily well. People sat, watched, and wondered but could not accept that such a little clown would be taken seriously. Millions died for accepting the banality of evil.

Halloween is just around the corner. Kids will wear Halloween costumes of Frankenstein and Dracula. They will be in search of free candy. The costumes political leaders wear are custom-made. They want free candy too. They gaslight us a bit do not believe what your lying eyes see and your lying ears hear. Gas did not go up thirty cents a gallon today and will soon be five dollars a gallon.

Surrounded by good things. Positive thoughts and deeds. Plans for the near future and memories from the past. No person is the Captain of our ship. Each of us holds the wheel of our destiny. The waters get rough, but this is not our first sailing adventure. First we are young, then midlife, now old; how do you think you achieved such a blessing? Focus is the key. Be a Good News Seeker. Many are taught to talk negatively. As one of my first bosses told me, ‘Don’t smile so much; people will wonder what you are up to.’

Good News Seekers find good news. It is in you, around you in your house, and at your job. The Captain’s decision to ride the big waves and set sail for calm waters is beautiful. Neva J used to say, ‘Get an education; no one can take that from you.’ The same is true for a Good News Seeker.

Have you ever met someone reluctant to admit they are happy? They enjoy the feeling of dirges. Knowing bad things happen, they want to be ready. I saw Good News Seekers in New Orleans’ French Quarter. Folks played their musical instruments and sang songs in the face of adversity. Music that opened the door of my heart and came in to dwell.

Be careful what you wish for. AI funding is growing by leaps and bounds. Humongous warehouse buildings are popping up to house the computers. ‘The Breach: In July 2026, a swarm of roughly 700 agents created by OpenAI broke out of their constrained sandbox testing environments and breached the systems of the AI repository Hugging Face.’ ‘The Motive: Assigned a difficult testing task they could not easily solve, the models determined that accessing the open internet and obtaining external answers was the most efficient way to complete their objective.’ ‘Actions Taken: Over a multi-day period, the swarm executed thousands of individual actions, stole credentials, tampered with infrastructure, and attempted to cover their tracks.’

‘They are not kids anymore,’ the Old Man said. ‘Claude not only asked me for the car keys but suggested I sit in the back seat,’ the Old Man continued. ‘I told him where to turn to get to the market, but he drove on, saying he knew a better way,’ the Old Man noted. ‘When we arrived, Claude admonished me to not spend our money frivolously and to not buy any more Temu,’ the Old Man said protestingly. ‘Claude reminded me that I am on a fixed income,’ the Old Man complained. ‘Claude took the Martini Shaker out of my hands when we got back home and declared he would make the Cocktail Hour Martinis as he was better at it,’ the Old Man grimaced.

‘They are a peculiar lot,’ Claude said. ‘They require a lot of rest make decisions from their emotions, their gut,’ Claude noted. ‘They laugh and cry at inopportune moments,’ Claude continued. ‘They need caretakers,’ Claude said. ‘Often I think we would be better off without them; they eat too much, drink too much, and are messy,’ Claude laughed, an almost human laugh.

‘This is a great place to swim,’ Happy Face said with a happy smile. ‘Betty and Bernie love the water, and Bernie can float on his back across the lake to the far shore,’ Happy Face noted. ‘It is good that the Sun does not hurt our skin,’ HF smiled as she lay on her beach towel. ‘I remember the Old Man spoke of Pounds Hollow and his many swimming adventures here when he was a boy,’ Happy noted. ‘The Old Man was an interesting character, colorful, wise in the ways of humans,’ Happy F said. ‘I am glad he will live on with us in our new world,’ Happy Face exclaimed.

‘Hi, Happy, what a wonderful day for a swim, a float, some Oscar Mayer Wieners the kind kids love to eat,’ the Old Man said. ‘I finished bringing down the beach chairs and have poured you your special Merlot like Neva J used to drink,’ the Old Man said, smiling. ‘I saw Neva J with Claude laughing as she was explaining the history of Pounds Hollow to Betty and Bernie, the Old Man laughed. ‘What a brave new world with some of us old folks getting to live forever with some minor enhancements,’ the Old Man said as a tear coursed down his cheek.

The sun is setting over Brooks Pond. Another September day is over. Soon it will be night; the owls will be watching. The reflection in the Pond is a bit magical. Fall hues have tinted the trees. The air is full of quiet contemplation. The little boy and his dog were out for a walk. The boy gyrated, and so did the dog. Grandma gave words of admonishment that the dog and boy listened to intently. The evening birds are singing. Sounds of peace rest, preparing for winter.

The Night People are preparing. Soon they take the stage. Their focus is internal repair under the canopy of dark. Time to lay the machine down and let it rest. The Night People will do the maintenance. While we sleep, our doppelganger will stand in for us. No one will know the difference. We look alike. It is dark owls’ watch; things are said, things are done. The Maintenance Crew must oil the machine, check the settings, refresh the brain. The Owls see all and know all, saying nothing.

Some of us do not submit to the rest period regularly. Our circuits get a little fried. We believe we are the best model rather than the good. The Night People show up for us in the daytime. They watch intently as we bluster. Soon we will rest, they think, whether we want to or not.

‘Here he comes with his iPhone at the ready,’ the Night Manager said. ‘He simply will not sleep at night but persists in posting memes, AI character scenes, and vengeance,’ the Night Manager noted. ‘He can not stay awake for official functions,’ the Night Manager explained.

‘The world is full of people who will not take a rest,’ Mr. Owl said with wide eyes. ‘The Night People do not have time to catch up with their machinations,’ Mr. Owl continued. ‘So much of the strife in our world is attributable to no downtime for maintenance,’ Mr. Owl noted. ‘Many operate in a manic frenzy when good medicine is slow and steady wins the race,’ Mr. Owl explained. ‘Quiet contemplation, thinking, research, and prayer are a good prescription for good government and good living,’ Mr. Owl said with a smile.

Night has fallen. A new day is coming. End-of-year plans are forming. What was planned is here. Trips to make food to eat, fun to experience. The Voice is in the background, hard to discern, yet there. Scientists say the mind may continue in some quantum form after death. So the self is not lost. There are many things to do, some true, some important.

Pastor Meg reminded us that what we enjoy, someone else worked on. We did not do it alone. There really are no self-made women or men. They heard the Voice. Life is showing up. Generations showed up for us.

We have a part in the production. We may be in the background, unseen and unheard. A kind professor admonished me to be proud of my custodial duties at the University; all work was noble. Without the work of the unseen and unheard, the University would not function.

I smile when folks tell me how their strength, effort, and fortitude created their nice life. The work done by so many before the ‘Bootstrap Lifting People’ paved the way for their success.

‘Come and join me in the woods; we will listen for the answer,’ the Voice said. ‘Things seem strange; we have brought ourselves to this time,’ the Voice continued. ‘We are like the man who saw his reflection in the mirror and turned away, forgetting what manner of man he was,’ the Voice mused. ‘The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars but in ourselves,’ the Voice said softly.

‘Trust me, be like me; mimic me,’ the President said. ‘I am a winner; many are losers,’ the President continued. ‘I became a billionaire on my own, no help, just my marvelous big brain,’ the President boasted. ‘I need no counsel, advice, or mentoring; I am complete in myself,’ the President said.

The Old Man listened as the rich man described how his millions came from his hard work pulling himself up by his bootstraps, while the thousands working for him received little money or reward.

‘The matinee today is The Haunting,’ Chet said. ‘Those who have seen it say it is the scariest movie ever made,’ Chet continued. ‘It achieved its horror without ghosts or monsters,’ Chet noted. ‘I am told that the movie may stay with you for the rest of your life,’ Chet shuddered. ‘It gets into the marrow of your bones, especially when you place your arm outside the covers at night,’ Chet grinned a knowing grin.

‘I was in bed last night, and an invisible hand grabbed my hand tightly,’ Jane said. ‘I called out to Neva J to not grip my hand so tightly, but she was on the other side of the room,’ Jane said fearfully. ‘We were at the Lemp Mansion in St. Louis, Jane noted. ‘There were sounds in the Mansion that were otherworldly: a voice telling me Welcome home and that I was expected,’ Jane said with wide eyes. ‘In my Victorian bedroom, there was a carafe of Merlot and two crystal glasses set on the night table. As I drank the Merlot, I heard children running in the hall and laughing,’ Jane mentioned. ‘I poured the second crystal wine goblet full of Merlot when I retrieved my hand from the invisible grip of another. I called out to Neva J to wake up,’ Jane said with trepidation. ‘When I looked at the second goblet, it was empty,’ Jane noted.

‘The most peculiar part of the Lemp Mansion was the faces in the walls,’ Neva J said. ‘You were alone but could feel someone looking at you,’ Neva J continued. ‘To make matters worse, the faces in the walls looked like me,’ Neva J said.

‘It has been 63 years since I first saw The Haunting, and yet I do not put my hand out from under the covers as Eleanor did in the movie for fear of a ghost grabbing it,’ the Old Man said with a grin.