‘I am an avid Dreamer,’ said Billy B. ‘At times when I first awaken…it seems that my dream was reality…and reality…my dream.’. ‘I have read that there is a theory that dreams are our reality and what we perceive as reality…is merely a dream,’ said Chet with a wise look on his face. ‘Once I dreamt that I was in school sitting in our classroom…and when I woke up…there was Mrs. B. looking down on me sternly,’ Jane laughed. ‘Dad says that our dreams are often the hidden reality that we have lived in past lives or other dimensions, said Daryl. Daryls’ Dad was the 6th-grade teacher and dressed all in black clothing with a Wizards Hat on his head…and preferred to be called The Wiz. ‘Dad has written a book on the subject of Real Dreams and it was a best seller in England,’ Daryl continued. ‘In fact, Dad conducted seminars regarding the subject of Real Dreams and the Bath City Pavillion was full for each of them, Daryl noted in a hushed tone. ‘I wonder if your Dad could explain my dream of being a passenger on a ship that sailed endless seas and stopped at the most interesting…and familiar excursion locations,’ asked Billy B.? ‘He most certainly could…and I will tell him that you want to see him after school,’ Daryl answered.

The ship was rocking back and forth so violently that Billy B. could barely hold on even with grasping onto the rails on either side of the narrow hallway. Then…the Ocean calmed in a moment…and he was getting off at a nameless…but familiar store…where everyone seemed to know him by name and greet him as if he were family. ‘Good to see you again,’ said the store’s Proprietor. ‘Back for another Cruise…I see,’ said Neva J. ‘I would really like to find a good watch…this Cruise,’ remarked Jane. ‘You are looking like A Champ,’ Chet said while grinning like the Cheshire Cat of Alice In Wonderland. ‘I must have a new hat…my current one is wearing out…but then what should I expect…it is 200 years old,’ laughed The Wiz. ‘I am so sleepy…I must find a bed and lay down my weary head,’ rhymed Billy B.

‘Wake up Billy B.,’ said Mrs. B. as the rest of the class laughed. Billy B. shook himself and asked if he could go to the restroom. When he exited the classroom…there was the Ship and his friends…

‘I heard that you wanted to talk with me, Billy B.,’ said The Wiz. ‘Yes I do sir,’ Billy B. answered. Is what we are experiencing right now…a dream or reality,’ Billy B. earnestly asked. ‘What do you think that it is, Billy B.’ asked The Wiz? ‘It feels real most of the time except for the unexplainable fact that the inside of the School is much larger than the outside…and I know because I have measured both,’ said Billy B. ‘Art is my savior when I am thinking about my reality…it expresses both my dream life and what I believe that I am living as a form of reality,’ said The Wiz. ‘The finest of Art is an expression of what the artist saw when she or he was painting the Piece,’ The Wiz continued. ‘Vincent van Gogh painted his masterpieces that way that he saw them,’ The Wiz said with a sly grin. ‘Many reported that they have seen Aliens and indeed…have been abducted by them…while others see their deceased loved ones…as if they were alive…and the love ones speak to them,’ The Wiz said softly.

Billy B. thanked The Wiz for his wisdom and exited the School Room and found Jane who said, ‘where ever have you been Billy B. I found the perfect watch! ‘This Boat is Rocking…,’ exclaimed Chet…

‘Please join me for dinner…in the Banquet Hall…I hear that the desert tonight is…Baked Alaska…,’ said Phillip K. Dick…

In Eldorado, we knew the difference between lies and truth. Residents of Eldorado worked hard for their pay and did not suffer fools gladly. They were in the midst of a terrible war in Vietnam…and Americans were dying daily. It was not a volunteer Army…you were drafted and most poor and middle-class people had to go. Most of them went to church on Sunday and expected their neighbors and friends and those with whom they did business…to be honest, and not insult them with Banal Lies. They understood that lies were real and that people lie…however, they did expect the lies to be creative and somewhat believable. They understood that there were ‘Snake Oil Salesmen’ and Grifters and Confidence Men…and they were on their guard because often there were wolves in sheep’s clothing. Not often did a person tell Eldoradians that they were going to lie to them…and then tell them the lie…and they consequently buy the lie as if it were the ‘Gold of Ophir’ that the Bible speaks of.

‘Donald says that if he is elected Class President…he will ensure that all of us receive A’s on our report cards,’ Daryl said. ‘I do not think that he has that power or the ability to perform such a difficult and unethical feat,’ said Jane. ‘He may not…but he seems to be gaining support daily as he repeats his false claim, Billy B. replied. ‘I want only white people…Caucasian students and white teachers in our school…no people who are not Americans,’ Donald proclaimed with a bugged-eyed intensity! ‘Once I am elected as your Class President…I will not allow students or teachers who are against us…who do not love America…to continue at our school,’ Donald went on to say.

‘I spoke with my Dad, The Wiz, who as you know is the instructor in our sixth grade, that Donald is a poor student and has failed sixth grade once and thus is repeating the 6th…this year, said Daryl. ‘Susie told me that Donald attempted to forcibly kiss her and slammed her against the lunchroom wall…and that she is afraid of him,’ said Jane. ‘Did she report him,’ asked Billy B? ‘She did report him but Mr. I. is a supporter of Donald’s Class Presidency… responded that although he would look into it…he wondered what Susie had done to cause Donald to want to kiss her…he asked if she led Donald on,’ said Jane.

Election Day had arrived and Donald had begun posting photographs of students who were African American or Hispanic or Handicapped…and they had the caption…’Restore Our School…We can do Better.’ Ethnic students or students who were a bit different from the majority began to call in sick to school and were afraid to attend due to the catcalls and threats that they had to endure from Donald’s supporters.

Many of the good citizens of Eldorado were dismayed at what was occurring in their school. Most were against the Bullying…and Banal Lies and Hate Speech of the student…Donald. But…others thought that Donald was tellin’ it like it was…and that he was saying what they had been thinking for some time. Chet had undergone daily Bullying and insults from Donald and his supporters. He had seen Donald at Dad’s Restaurant and Donald had been affable and slapped him on the back and told him that he was a good man but that he had to tear Chet down in order to win the election. ‘Can we just be honest and be truth-tellers, asked Chet? ‘Truth Tellers are Losers,’ Donald said with a wicked laugh.

Eldorado was up in arms and now almost evenly split between the people who thought that Donald was a ‘Breath of Fresh Air’ for their school…and those who believed that Chet would be the best person for Class President due to his honesty and humility and wisdom.

Now…it was time to count the votes…

When I look back on Fathers Days of Years, the realization hits me that a year goes by quickly. We are nearly halfway through 2022. We put off to tomorrow what we can do today…and before we know it…it is tomorrow. When we arrived at Mary Janes’ in Cape Girardeau…they told us to be prepared for a 45-minute wait…but we could eat at the bar immediately. The Bar was fascinating. I have never sat in front of so many colorful bottles of liquor. Some with names that I had never heard of. There were three people behind the bar…but only one performer…the head bartender. I watched as he created a Smoked Old Fashioned and marveled at his skill and theatrical ability. Simply being party to the performance…made me want one. As I perused the multitude of bottles I noticed several of the same types of Bourbon on the top of the shelves. When I inquired as to their availability he told me the story of how he had traveled to Louisville, Kentucky to hand pick the bourbon that was drawn directly out of its barrel…and that in the corner was the barrel…and that he had 250 bottles, to begin with…but now only 30 remain. There was also the bottle that was next to the group and it represented another unique and rare Bourbon. The gentleman sitting next to me at the Bar said that he belonged to a Bourbon Club in St. Louis, Missouri. he had been a single malt Scotch man before converting. Another gentleman sitting nearby commented when I explained what the bartender was doing when he smoked the Old Fashioned, ‘That is Old School.’ I agreed heartily…

The mood was light and the conversation flowed freely @ Mary Janes on Fathers’ Day. When the fellow who said that it was Old School, regarding the Smoked Old Fashioned got up to leave he wished me happy Fathers’ Day and told me to enjoy my day and it was good that I was sitting at a nice Bar and having a drink or two…and that I deserved it. I was impressed with how nice he and his wife were. We need so much more talking and perhaps a drink to oil the gears of conversation…rather than catcalling and fighting and rude hurtful rhetoric and conspiracy theories. Committees are formed and studies are written and lofty goals are set…to rid the world of racism and hate and the lies that we have been told…when a longer Bar…or a longer table…and the honest conversation of the humble are what we need.

Donald was a bit introspective. When he thought of others he thought of them through the mental prism of what they could do for him. Chet and Billy B. had befriended Donald… but could not help but notice that he took advantage of many of their fellow classmates. Donald was running for Class President and he was being especially nice to those kids that he believed would vote for him. There was another group of kids that wanted Chet to run for Class President. Chet was very well thought of for his kindness to everyone and his wise words and considerate demeanor. He also was a minor celebrity for his rendition of the Lost In Space Robot at many class social functions and in numerous school plays. Chet had poor eyesight and wore thick glasses and often held a book he was reading…close to his face. Donald, who was a basketball player and a letterman in three sports…was a jock. At a Class President Rally just a day before the vote…Donald said, ‘Do you want me for your President…an avid sportsman and Herculean ability…or do you want ‘Wet’…his nickname for Chet…to be your President…when he can not see his hand before his face…and you never know when he is looking at you through his ‘Coke Bottle Glasses?’ Many of Donalds’ Supporters…laughed…but most of the Rally Crowd was hushed… Some in the crowd admired the humble manner that Chet exhibited when he was publicly made fun of by Donald. Others thought…’Survival of the fittest…and may the best man win.’

We had a lovely visit with our Traveling Buddies, Ira Kaye and Ron, this afternoon. Pheasant Hollow a Winery that is in a beautiful rustic area with some superb wine to offer. We discussed future travel plans to Maine and as always enjoyed each other’s company. I reflected on how blessed we were to have such good friends. I always think of my Dad on this penultimate day before Father’s Day. He used to arrive home from work and hoist me onto his shoulders and carry me around the house and I felt like the king of the world. He wore a motorcycle hat and a leather motorcycle jacket and he looked like a benevolent tough guy. I can remember him pushing me on my tricycle. I was very young. He had a great laugh.

Dad would drive the Harley Motorcycle and I would sit in the middle of the big leather seat and mom behind me. The big Harley had saddlebags on the back and it was a joy to ride on it with Dad and Mom. We rode all the way from Sauk Village to Eldorado, Illinois on the one-holiday trip. When we arrived I was certainly tired and soon was at Grandma Askews’ kitchen table drinking a large white porcelain cup of whole milk…and boy did it taste good. Dad was a bit of a hero to moms’ sisters and Uncle Bill…Wandas’ husband. He was a Junior and this is the name that Mom’s family referred to him as. When Uncle Bill would see Dad he would begin to work his tongue in and out of the gap in his lower teeth and grin from ear to ear. Now Uncle Bill often grinned and moved his tongue between his teeth…but it was unique when he saw his buddy…Junior. Dad was a World War II Vet. He served in the Pacific Theatre. He and Mom came from the Mount Vernon and Ashley area and they had migrated to Chicago shortly after they were married…to obtain work. Mom worked in the Hilton Hotel as a Switchboard Operator and on occasion put a call through for Conrad Hilton…himself. Dad was a Semi Truck Mechanic. We had a great house with outstanding neighbors and lived the early 60s dream of suburban life. I often compare it to the popular television show of the time…Leave It To Beaver.

Dad came from the country but he looked like the city. He was a bit of a mobster… to his effect. He carried a concealed weapon without a license and he was tough without talking about it. He sent Mom home some carved wooden boxes that the natives of an island that he was on during the war had carved. Mom feared that he had been intimate with some of the girls on the island after she saw photos in a National Geographic Magazine. He enjoyed Pall Mall cigarettes and smoked four packs of them a day. He came from a life-shattering War back to a land of milk and honey and little understanding of its’ proud and faithful warriors.

As I grow old I wonder what Dad thought when the vagaries and challenges of life confronted him. There was not anyone to talk to about the concerns of life…men were just supposed to suck it up and march forward…much as in World War II. I can recall when someone saw a man cry…they thought him somewhat of a wimp. So…this Fathers’ Day MJ and I have the lights of our lives…Aaron and Jonathon…our sons. They bring us such joy and peace and contentment…and our constant delight. I wish that Dad could have met them.

I became an Art aficionado somewhat later in life. Prior to the late 90s, I appreciated Fine Art…but after that I love Fine Art. It is a bug that once bitten the affection is permanent. Art brings me peace and comfort and a feeling of home…wherever and whenever I see it. MJ and I traveled for several years to Lowertown Paducah, Kentucky a wonderful Artistic Community. We were back recently and visited with Char and Jay Downs. Char is a skilled and longtime renowned artist. I think that the Art Bug first bit us in Montreal, Canada. As the French Canadian lady spoke to us about the intriguing art in her shop…and offered us more complimentary wine…we were hooked.

Home is a feeling more than a place…in my mind. During the past few months, I have visited Eldorado on several occasions…and I felt supremely at home…although I have not lived in the little Southern Illinois town for nearly 50 years. I enjoyed walking the streets of the City of Gold…so much…I keep wanting to return and snap more photos. Every nook and corner…has memories. When I see the Orpheum Theatre I am transported in time back to the 60s and the many hours of enjoyment that I experienced watching movies in the Theatre. The Orpheum was my church on Sunday. On a regular basis…weekly…I would enter the Theatre around 1:00 P:M: and stay until 9:00 P:M:. Of course, those were the days when you could watch the Feature over and over for the same 35-cent ticket.

Each time that I pass our church, First Presbyterian, I think of home. We have been attending for 24 years and thoroughly enjoy the inclusiveness of the congregation. Over my 32 + year career at Southern Illinois University @ Carbondale, I relished the mixture of races and ethnicities and customs and faiths…and lack thereof. First Presbyterian Church mirrors that feeling of home with its’ welcoming of all people.

Earth is our home. However…somehow it seems that we are not able to recognize our brothers and sisters and mothers and fathers. Art helps to unite us in our human family.

My friend, Sandra Burns ART is a tremendous artist and you can look at some of her work at Sandra Burns ART@vintagecove or http://sandraburns.org

‘Friday is a special day,’ said Billy B. ‘I have waited all week for Friday…and I intend to get the most out of it,’ Billy B. continued. ‘I have my sleeping bag and camping gear all ready to go, Chet announced. ‘I am so glad that the temperature has dropped,’ Jane noted. ‘We will roast marshmallows and cook hot dogs…accept for Chet, who likes them raw…and drink a little wine,’ laughed Neva J. ‘I am happy that we purchased those two tents from Western Auto…they will come in handy if it rains…or if there are bears or coyotes in the woods,’ said Jane. ‘I want to go through Fat Man’s Squeeze,’ said Chet. ‘I heard that it is easy to get stuck in that rock formation,’ Jane added. ‘Not if you do not breath,’ laughed Billy B.

The Garden Of The Gods had its’ illustrious name for a reason. It is breathtakingly beautiful. The rocky cliffs and formations are like none other in Southern Illinois. ‘This looks like a good spot to set up camp,’ said Chet. ‘Jane and I will gather some firewood,’ Billy B. said. ‘Neva J. and I will set up the tents and open the wine,’ grinned Chet. As the sun set the camping fire was crackling. ‘I love these hot dogs, Chet proclaimed. ‘Even if they are roasted over the open fire, Jane asked? ‘Indeed,’ Chet responded. The night was cool but the wine and the fire were warming and the little group was content and well into their…Cups. ‘Have you ever heard of a Chupacabra, asked Chet? ‘Is that a type of wine,’ asked Neva J.? ‘No, it is a creature similar to a dog…but with long arms and it stands upright…somewhat like a human, Chet answered. ‘There have been sightings in the Garden Of The Gods…some think that it was a coyote standing on its hind legs…but one of the people that saw it said that it had a head…like a pig…

The glowing embers of the campfire were a soothing sight. Jane and Neva J. were in one of the tents and Chet and Billy B. were in the other. The sounds of the woodland wildlife were musical…and the frogs croaking from the nearby pond…was like the bass section of the Garden Orchestra. Billy B. felt the need to heed the call of nature and unzipped his tent flap and walked out to find a secluded spot…he was so sleepy that it seemed that he was dreaming…when he saw a figure sitting by the campfire embers. ‘How are you doing…Billy B. asked the figure with the Pigs Head…do you have any more of those wonderful hot dogs,’ as he laughed and refilled his wine glass…

The heat factor is 106 degrees and the dew point is 75. It is one uncomfortable afternoon. I just finished watering our plants…they were happy for the respite and I was happy when it was over. My Buddy, Elizabeth, texted me Tuesday to be sure and stop for a Snow Cone that was sponsored by the Chancellor’s Office and the Civil Service Council. It sounded inviting but I was in St. Louis. Elizabeth remembers our time together as members of the Civil Service Council. I thought that I was passionate about the Council…until I have witnessed Elizabeths’ dedication to the betterment of all Civil Service Staff. I have been retired for nearly 12 years from Southern Illinois University @ Carbondale…yet I am on Campus virtually every day that I am not out of town. My dear friend, Joe Cash, told me years ago that I would be surprised how fast retirement would come…and he was right.

Often we are in a hurry with no particular place to go. We seek constant frenetic activity to assure ourselves that we are making every minute count…and to validate the air space that we take up on our beloved Earth. The concept of Waiting is onerous to us. ‘I want what I want and I want it now, said my mother-in-law, Fernie, to me. This was regarding her asking MJ if I would pressure wash her house. I told MJ that I would be happy to and that I would do so on Saturday…since it was already Wednesday and Saturday was my day off of work. Fernie telephone me on Thursday and told me that she was going to get someone else to pressure wash her house as apparently, I was busy. I replied that I was happy to do it on my first day off work…Saturday. She laughed and said that would be alright. I did not charge for this service that I had done on several occasions.

It is possible to be in a rush even in retirement. You feel that you must get to this location and do the thing prescribed in your plan…by a date certain. Old habits die hard.

Billy B. could not wait to graduate from Eldorado High School. He was convinced that the adult life of doing what you want to and when you want to do it…was a halcyon experience compared to what he was accustomed to. He moved from his home the day after Graduation. Billy B. was going on ahead of Chet to explore life at Southern Illinois Univesity @ Carbondale. Billy B. took a job in the Building Services Department and Chet enrolled in Accounting. They loved SIUC…but it soon occurred to them that their young adulthood…was a herculean amount of work. They shared a house in Elkville that was a few miles from Campus. Elkville was a village. A peaceful village with one moderately sized market and one very small and family-owned market with dust on the can goods. There was neither Theatre nor Billard Parlor…but there was a large furniture store. There was a massage parlor…that Chet heard offered risque massages… The 15-mile drive from Elkville to Carbondale was on highway #51 and the little town of DeSoto was in the middle. Soon Billy B. enrolled in Electronic Data Processing…or EDP. The African American Chairman of the Department treated Billy B. with such respect…that he believed that he did have what it takes to succeed in College. Billy B.took an overview course in Computers and the Professor treated him with such respect that he knew that he was going to continue his education. She gave him an A in the course and told everyone he knew about his academic success.

Chet enjoyed academic success from the beginning and became a CPA and opened his own Accounting business in Eldorado. He became one of the most successful Eldorado Business in the Community and his mom, Thelma, served as his assistant. Billy B. began as a Building Service Worker I…but ended his career as the Superintendent of Building Services. They waited for success and it came…quietly and on little cats’ feet…and with God’s Blessing.

‘Life is short if you live to be 100,’ Grandma Askew said to Billy B. ‘What God wants for you…you will receive…in his time…and his time…is not our time,’ said Grandma Askew.

June 21st is less than a week away and with its’ coming…the longest day. After June 21st the days begin to become a bit shorter each day. I like that…but I am in an apparent minority on this affection. I believe that there is a large segment of people who would prefer that the sun never set. I will never forget taking an Alaskan Cruise on Holland America and observing the sun still shining at 2:00 A:M:. It was somewhat disconcerting. It gets dark in my neck of the woods at 8:20 P:M: this evening…but will not be totally dark until about 9:00 P:M: The late days afford a nice opportunity for late evening Blog Writing…but then again…I do have lights on the Writing Porch.

Summer is a fascinating time. You can go where you like without a jacket or coat…unless it is raining. It is a great time for outdoor activity. Sitting and observing the scenery and the wildlife and the trees and flowers…and sipping some lovely coffee or wine…come to mind. Swimming was Billy B.’s primary pass time in the summer. He and Chet and Jane and Neva J. lived to swim and return to Pounds Hollow…every day…if possible. Pounds Hollow was an escape from the ordinary and an oasis in the desert of the oppressive heat and no air conditioning. Floating in the deep water of the Hollow was another world. You could not hear the chattering throng on the Beach…and the peace of the gently wafting waters and the coolness of the experience was nirvana. ‘I am going to swim over to the far bank of the lake,’ said Chet. ‘I will float over and be with you soon,’ Billy B. responded. ‘Oh no…is that a Water Moccasin,’ cried Chet. ‘No…silly…it is just a green limb that has fallen into the water,’ Billy B. answered. Chet was sorely afraid of Water Moccasin Snakes.

Finally, Chet and Billy B. arrived on the far Pounds Hollow bank. The bank was really the edge of a woods and the trees were so thick that they blotted out the sun thus the trail that they were walking on was in the shadows of the great oaken limbs that were full of leaves. As they walked they heard two men talking in a low speech. ‘We had better be ready for anything,’ whispered Chet. ‘Yes, the voices sound like the men are planning something that must be a secret,’ Billy B. noted. ‘Well as I live and breath…if it is not Billy B. and Chet, said Bill B. ‘Come over here…Chet and let me give you a hug,’ Carol laughed with his arms outstretched.

‘How could this be happening,’ asked Chet? Billy B. walked up to his dad and gave him a big hug. Chet and Billy B. had been deprived of their fathers by the fates of life. Billy B.s father and mother had separated…and then divorced…and he had not seen him since that time. Chets’ father, Carol, had died in his sleep of a massive heart attack. ‘Miracles happen at Pounds Hollow,’ said Chet. ‘Happy Fathers’ Day…’ said Billy B. with a tear coursing down his cheek…

‘I can not wait to dip my feet in that cool Pounds Hollow water,’ said Chet. ‘You know even though it is going to be 100 degrees today…the water feels a bit chilly when you first get in,’ said Neva J. ‘I will tell you what does not feel a bit chilly…the beach sand…it burns my feet every time that we go swimming,’ Billy B. said…with a historical passion. ‘I love to apply a liberal amount of Coppertone Suntan Lotion and lay in the warmth of the Sun and feel the warm sand beneath my beach towel,’ said Jane. ‘It is similar to being in an oven…’ noted Chet.

Pounds Hollow was especially crowded on June 14th and both the hot sandy beach and the cool lake were full of summer Sun Worshippers. The little store that was located in between the women’s and men’s locker rooms had candy bars and potato chips and Sun Tan Lotion…and a new item…Sunscreen was supposed to protect your skin against burning and then tanning. ‘Well…I am always extremely proud to be one of the first kids in Eldorado to complete my sunburn in order to proceed with the wonderful tanning process…why by the end of summer…I am very dark…indeed, Billy B. boasted. ‘Sun Burns is just a part of loving the beach,’ laughed Neva J. ‘I think that they are somewhat painful…’ said Chet quietly.

‘Did you bring your Thongs…Billy B., asked Neva J? Yes, but they keep slipping off of my feet and I do not like the bar that fits between my toes to facilitate keeping them on,’ Billy B. responded. ‘Some of the babies are crying as they sit in the sand and make sandcastles,’ Jane sadly said. ‘Next time perhaps we will bring a big umbrella to sit under and maybe deflect some of the most powerful Sun Rays, Neva J. said. ‘You know…I have often wondered what the difference we humans are from the roast or steak or hamburger…that cooks in the oven…we just do not cook…as long,’ Chet remarked. ”Oh let’s not think such dour thoughts today…let us get into the water and enjoy this beautiful June Morning, Jane proclaimed as she ran to the lake’s edge.

Peace and summer serenity and joy embraced our happy group…as a hidden monster watched over them…

It feels like 111 degrees according to my iPhone. I am perspiring…and I almost never perspire. I went to Campus Lake and the Baby Ducks and Baby Geese ran to meet me. I am a regular there. As I took some additional photos of Carbondale…I heard a man screaming at the top of his lungs. There was so much profanity that it was difficult to discern his complaint. A young mother with her little children looked afraid…as did the kids. Hot weather produces additional anger issues. We have road construction on every side. I think it must be the fruits of the new Infrastructure Bill passed with bi-partisan support. As I passed them, the hot construction workers were laying on some concrete that had the shade of a tree overhead. I remembered summers in Eldorado.

‘How did you sleep…Billy B.,’ Neva J. asked? ‘About an hour…I think…my sheet is wet with sweat,’ Billy B. moaned. ‘Did you open your bedroom window two inches…as Demetrius instructed and let the fan that is on exhaust in the kitchen window…pull in the cool night air,’ Neva J. said with a wry smile? ‘It did not get below 82 degrees outside and the pitiful amount of air that can seep in through a two-inch crack…felt like a furnace,’ Billy B. remarked as he wiped the sweat from his brow. ‘Chet is coming over and he assures me that he has the answer to the heat wave,’ said Billy B. wearily.

‘Good morning Neva J….my you are looking lovely this morning,’ said the always complimentary, Chet. ‘What is your answer to the heat wave,’ said the perspiring Neva J.? ‘Think cool thoughts,’ Chet replied with a wide smile on his bespectacled face. ‘Knock it off…Chet…you said that you have something special to tell me about beating the heat wave…now spill the beans, Billy B. demanded! ”Hold your horses…my friend…it will be my pleasure to share with you my secret, Chet laughed. ‘I have manufactured a container of ice…50 pounds thereof…and a high-speed fan that blows the cool air off of the melting ice…,’ Chet said. ‘As you sit in front of the Ice Fan Cooler…you will be transported to Alaska…and thus will need a winter coat,’ Chet continued confidently. ‘I have sprinkled a bit of LSD on the chipped ice…and the cooling results are amazing,’ Chet grinned.

‘I feel like that I am really in Alaska,’ said Jane. ‘I do not see any psychedelic colors or shapes or feel like I am on a bad trip, Jane continued. ‘There is a sign for Ketchikan, Alaska…We are disembarking from a Cruise Ship and this is as real as the wonderful Lochs and Bagles that I enjoyed this morning on the ship, said a happy Daryl. ‘You got me…the ice machine and higher-powered fan is a Time Machine that I developed with Dr. Smith from Lost In Space…we are in 2005. and we are in Ketchikan, laughed Chet.

‘What about Eldorado and our lives in the 60s,’ asked Neva J.? ”We will return when fall arrives and the heat wave is over,’ said Chet.