The days are getting shorter. That is just how fast it happens. For six months, they get longer, and for six months, they return to darkness before 5:00 P.M. We have reached the top of the Slide and soon will slide down until just before Christmas. Often, life is hurry-up-and-wait. First, we want to become older. The key to happiness and knowledge is with age. Certainly, the adults had a secret language they spoke to each other. The quirky look in their eyes revealed their mysterious intent. The agenda was hidden. We were the little people. We were kept in the dark. Once we had the reins of power, all would be different and well. We were princes and princesses in exile waiting to be returned to our sovereign thrones. We saw the cracks in the leaders and would not make the same mistake.

First, we discovered there was no manual for growing up. What looked like a good idea at 20 seemed bizarre at 40. Deadlines and exercises in financial management. Take the kids to practice. Dental appointments and new furnaces to buy. More months than money. The throne we imagined in our youth seemed to be moving away from us. We wanted to solve the world’s problems, but first there was grocery shopping. Relationships go from easy to hard and back to easy again. We see the top of the slide, but the handles are hot, and we almost fall in the midst of our ascent.

The Old Man mused that he would watch the nature of the Slide. He would see who succeeded and who did not. Was it bluster and fury or slow and steady that won the climb to the zenith?

‘Follow me, and I will make you rich, and perhaps you will find time to fish for women and men,’ the Evangelist said. ‘God has given me the answer, the power of positive thinking,’ the Evangelist continued. ‘If you believe you can do it, you can do it,’ the Evangelist noted. ‘Miracles are contemplated in your mind,’ he continued. ‘If you want to sell vacuum cleaners, believe you can sell vacuum cleaners,’ the Evangelist proclaimed! Becoming rich is the visible evidence of God’s blessing on your prosperous life,’ the New York Evangelist noted.

So the time moves much faster as you slide down Earth’s Slide. Some learn what the experience was about, while others are mystified. Some old folks are laughing all the way down, while others are angry that they did not obtain the throne they imagined in their youth.

It is heating up again in Little Egypt. Summer is in full swing. Life is calm. Thoughts are pleasant. Amazon Prime Days are here. There are good sales for a discerning shopper. We buy many things online. Our Mall is empty. Full of liminal space like the movie Backrooms. We are becoming a nation of liminal spaces. ‘Because these spaces are meant to be bustling but are completely devoid of people, they often evoke feelings of eerie surrealness, intense nostalgia, or a quiet dreamlike unease.’ Ghost Towns are eerie. We both remember them when the people were there and fear where the people went.

At times, we have liminal spaces in our heads and hearts. Vacant places of people that we loved and laughed with. When did the change happen? Why didn’t we see it coming? In the 70s, 80s, and 90s, the Old Man thought the University Mall would be vibrant forever. He, MJ, Aaron, and Jonathon went on a road trip to the Mall and had lunch, a movie, and some treasures. The Old Man and MJ bought their wedding rings at the Mall in 1978. It was packed with people.

A few years ago, after the pandemic, I devoted more than a year to taking photos of many towns in Southern Illinois. The architecture was similar in the former coal mining towns. They had been thriving little meccas 50 years ago. Storefronts of Dress Shops and Suit Stores dotted the main streets. Many towns had more than one movie theatre and many family-owned restaurants. All of them had a Ghost Town feel. Where commerce had once been, and pride of appearance now was left broken windows or window frames with no windows. Twenty or so years ago, Antique Stores seemed to be the ticket of revitiazation for our villages and hamlets. Some remain, but many closed.

The Old Man walked through long hall after long hall. There were stairs and smaller rooms at the top of them.
There were classrooms empty of desks, no chalk in the blackboard trays. The stairwells and foyers were going ever upward to nowhere in particular. A massive room had been the auditorium 100 years ago. If you listened closely, you could hear the kids laughing. The ghosts of women wearing white blouses and long dresses with their hair up on their heads. There was a presence of absence. Just walls and halls. Once there had been joy, and everyone was talking at once. Little spaces filled with people, big spaces filled with people. Singing happened here. Band happened here. Art happened here…

There was the place the Old Man had whiled away the hours, lost in another world of cinema. The Orpheum Theatre was full of mystery. There were young lovers and old codgers. The kids laughed and hooted when Frankenstein came on the screen. The Lions Club gave away Christmas Baskets to the kids after the Christmas Movie. The air was cold and bright and full of hope…

‘The water should be just right, as hot as it has been,’ Chet said. ‘I am going to wear my 1920s smim suit again,’ Chet beamed. ‘The last time I wore it, we had an adventure,’ Chet laughed. ‘Some would call it time travel,’ Chet danced on one foot and then the other. ‘I still have the Model T in my driveway,’ Chet noted. ‘I hope we meet some of our Eldorado ancestors today at Pounds Hollow,’ Chet said.

‘Well, I have plenty of Merlot packed as well as Oscar Mayer Hot Dogs, the Dogs Kids love to eat,’ Neva J noted. ‘If the Roaring 20s take over, I will wear my Flapper Bathing Suit, Neva J laughed. ‘I would love to run into the young Neva J and Bill sunning on the Beach,’ Neva J crossed her fingers. ‘When Bill got back from WWII, we often went to Pounds Hollow for a swim and to make plans for our future, Neva J noted. ‘He had a bit of PTSD, but in those days we called it Shell Shocked,’ Neva J continued. ‘Men’s swimming trunks were big and bulky,’ Neva J observed.

‘The first time I looked at the Pounds Hollow Beach, it was the 1920s, and when I looked again, it was the 1940s,’ Jane said. ‘I see my mom and dad in the water, floating on inner tubes,’ Jane laughed.

‘I swear Grandma A and Charles are walking on the beach, and it is 1928, and Grandma is pregnant with Neva J, Billy B proclaimed!

‘I fit in with my 1920s bathing suit as everyone else is wearing one also,’ Chet mused. ‘We are going to have to stop talking about the dirt road through the woods, or perhaps keep taking it,’ Chet laughed!

‘The grass is all dead in June, Neva J said. ‘What has happened to our favorite swimming Hole,’ Neva J continued. ‘It has been so hot for some time,’ Neva J observed. ‘I thought Pounds Hollow Lake would be here for us like it was for our grandparents and parents,’ Neva J said as tears streamed down her face.

There is a hint of fall in the air. A welcome respite. I am a cool weather guy. Cool air inspires the Old Man. Heat makes me a bit sluggish, and a cool breeze makes me less so. It is like the wife who told her husband to not be lazy in the grocery store, and he said it almost made him fall out of the grocery cart. So it goes as summer kicks off. The Old Man was bitten by some unforeseen mite. He changed his pants when he arrived home from the Woods. The Woods are great for bringing Woods life, hitching a ride.

So the Reflecting Pool has algae. The fresh Flag Blue paint for the bottom of the Pool is peeling away and floating on the top of the soupy green water. Was it vandals or a poor paint job and water purifying? I know it cost a lot of money for something that did not need to be done. The money our nation spends on the Cool Breeze could guarantee that everyone in the United States is fed.

The neighbor gathered our limbs and placed them on their limb burn pile. Their kindness made my day. There are good people everywhere. It is a myth that the world is full of selfish people. We are surrounded by giving people who care. The Watchers are watching.

‘I see the crying of the lonely Old Man,’ Watcher said. ‘He is missing his family on Father’s Day,’ Watcher continued. ‘He thinks about his kids daily and through the long nights yet rarely hears from them,’ Watcher noted. ‘They are busy, he knows, but don’t they have time for a visit once a year?’ Watcher mused. ‘A smile from his kids makes his day, and time spent with them is more precious than the gold of Ophir,’ Watcher observed.

‘I have been homeless for some time, the Old Man said. ‘My kids are grown and gone, I rarely enter their minds, the Old Man continued. ‘I used to call and write letters, does anyone write letters anymore?’ the Old Man asked. ‘I got sick a few years ago, and my money ran out, and Medicare cut me out, so I am homeless although I work,’ the Old Man said. ‘I am sure the kids think I am doing well. I do not want to burden them,’ the Old Man said.

There were a lot of smiling Dads yesterday, none more than me. Aaron and Jonathon are a blessing every day. Age sneaked up on me. I would like to get a little older. It has been quick. The blink of an eye. A weaver’s shuttle.

The storm clouds are gathering. Father’s Day and tornadoes mixed together. What a stew of life. Japapenos, beef, and potatoes. The Old Man stood up to pay and got blown away. Yesterday we were members of our home movie. Aaron and Jonathon skittering about, laughing. The Old Man, young, is putting up paneling in the Little House.

Halloween and the candy grabbers knocking at the door. MJ was great with child climbing over the paneling and assisting her young husband, who was not a carpenter. Full of pumpkin on Pumpkin Day. Ready to take on the world. The Little House was cold in the winter. A lot of cracks. In those halcyon days, folks put plastic over their windows to keep out the cold.

Teddy Ruxpin talked, and his mouth moved until it didn’t. We shopped for groceries from a meticulous list. No extras, not even a 12-cent comic. Totinos Frozen Pizza was two for a dollar. The Christmas Tree was over six feet tall. It had Victorian ornaments on it, purchased at Walmart. Jonathon and Aaron’s eyes gleamed. Harsh words about being a Christian. Every word in the Bible is literal. A prescription for psychosis.

In 30 years, today will be the Home Movie. There will be the Old Man and Sweet Mom. They were still getting around pretty well. ‘I think the restaurant was named The Turn and was on a golf course,’ Aaron said. ‘Dad had his New Orleans Hat on and wore it in the restaurant, although Mom did not like it,’ Aaron winked. ‘Look, Mom is wearing a cast on her arm,’ Aaron noted.

‘Remember the Subaru, it was a great ride,’ Jonathon said with a grin. ‘Dad saw a humidor on the Bar and thought they sold cigars. He had visions of cigar smoke in his Father’s Day plans,’ Jonathon laughed. ‘Turned out that the humidor was for decoration and they did not sell cigars,’ Jonathon explained. ‘Dad was around 70, I recall,’ Jonathon noted. ‘I remember you told Dad that you saw a Facebook post he made of the empty University Mall,’ Jonathon noted. ‘Dad said he and Mom remembered when the Mall was first built in the 70s, and I recall all of us spending many hours in it on the weekends,’ Jonathon said with a laugh.

‘Hello,’ the little boy with his little dog called out. Many dads are taking a Father’s Day Nap. Kids old and young are thinking fond thoughts of the Old Man. Dads are full of love and doting on their kids and yet were raised in a time lauding the strong silent type. Dads cry. The Old Man’s joy is being a father.

Here we are on Father’s Day and the first day of summer. What bliss. The Great White Heron is back from his adventures for Father’s Day. MJ Aaron, Jonathon, and I are going to lunch. I like lunch. Storms ater after the barbecues.

We search for fathers…we all do. When I was a manager, I tried to treat my staff with the care of a father. In turn, many of them were father figures to me. I never saw my Dad after six years old. I thought he was the Bees Knees and better than sliced bread, yet he left without a forwarding address. When the kids talked about their Dads I knew I had one somewhere out there. I think my initial attraction to church was Christ as a Father and the kindness of a pastor who had a fatherly attitude.

Aaron, Jonathon, and MJ are the core of my life. I think of little in the singular other than blogging and walking for health. Family is of supreme importance to me. I am a kind man unless you come against my boys or wife, then I am a bit of a Grizzly.

Today, fathers all over the world will be wondering what their children are thinking. The children are wondering the same about Dad. Dad’s skills can be used throughout life. The President could think of us as his kids and want only the best for them. He might want to see his kids clothed, fed, and happy. The President would not want anyone to marginalize his kids.

A Father’s Day Dream. Or a Father’s Day Nightmare?

Father’s Day is hope for the future and love for the past. I see Dad carrying me on his shoulders. I felt like the king of the world. I wanted to be like him.

So I took another Paducah, Kentucky trip yesterday. This time I was not driving solo. I had a traveling companion in my brother. We were off to Dry …

Paducah Part Two: Dry Ground Brewery Free Comedy Show

It is Saturday night in June. Tomorrow is Father’s Day. Also, the first day of summer. The longest day. Then we start going the other direction. The days get shorter each day. We begin the six-month march to winter. But this Saturday evening, we are at the height of our revelry and the apex of joy in summer experience. We cooked out today. Brats and sausages. It felt like a holiday!

The little boy helped load a car and climbed half into the passenger window, saying goodbye. He ran to his task and ran back to his grandma’s house. Do you remember when you ran everywhere you went?

Brooks Pond is placid. It is waiting for the Blue Heron and Mr. Beaver. The Bull Frogs sound off at the same time every evening. Nature’s clock is correct. Did you know that the moon affects the inner core of the Earth? God has made an intricate clock for us to live by.

So being a Father brings me supreme joy! I can think of nothing more challenging or more rewarding. The center of MJ and my world is Aaron and Jonathon.

As the sun sets, we wonder what tomorrow will bring. Will the Bullfrog Quartet sing? Will we be comfortable in the clothes we wear, or will we seek something different? My style of clothing has changed over the years. During the majority of my career, it was suits, sport coats, and ties. These were my working clothes. For the last 14+ years, relaxed clothing has been the order of the day. You do you, as the kids say! Neither dress for another nor act like someone wants you to act. On a summer night in June, be who you feel in your bones. If you like cotton candy, eat your fill. If funnel cake is your thing, funnel on. It is the time of carnivals and fairs. See if you can determine if the Headless Man really has no head. Ride the Carousel and reach for the brass ring. Sit under the stars and wonder how it all came to be and who we are in the magnificence.

So Jonathon visited our favorite Cigar Bar in Paducah the other day. As he described the pleasures of the wafting smoke and lovely live music, I reminisced about my last visit. The furniture is cigar bar quality, and the ashtrays are majestic. There is a Skee Ball table that Aaron and Jonathon enjoy playing.

When I am in the Cigar Bar, I am lost in my thoughts. It is a time machine. The Vintage look and atmosphere remind me of a Noir Movie from the 1940s. I also can see President Kennedy and Frank Sinatra reminiscing and plotting over a fine Cuban Cigar.

Cigars are made to be savored. You do not hurry a good cigar. There is time to muse and contemplate the past and future.

‘Hello Frank, come on in, I have your cigar cut and a Johnnie Walker Gold is on the way,’ JFK said. ‘Nikita says he will meet us here…he loves cigars,’ JFK noted with a wry grin. ‘He wants to talk about Cuba and how we get out of the mess we are in,’ JFK continued. ‘I told Nikita that our worries will go up in smoke at my favorite Cigar Bar,’ JFK laughed. ‘He told me that the Politburo is on his ass and is crawling inside,’ Jack winked. ‘He is bringing a proposal, and I will sign it if I like it,’ Jack said. ‘I left Bobby at home with the kids and Ethel, he is well intentioned but gets on my nerves,’ Jack noted with a long puff of his Cigar.

‘Jack, I have been looking all over for you. McNamara is apoplectic,’ Bobby said. ‘He told me that we did not have long and General LeMay was ready to start dropping bombs,’ Bobby said. ‘Of course, LeMay is always ready to drop bombs,’ Bobby mused. ‘Nikita is coming through the door with a grimace,’ Bobby noted.

‘Jack, you did not tell me Frank was going to be here. I love his singing,’ Nikita said with a smile. ‘I am ready for my Cuban Cigar and a Vodka and to hear Frank sing Fly Me To The Moon which is what we are going to do before you Jack,’ Nikita took a long drag from his cigar. ‘Frank is the Boss in my estimation,’ Nikita laughed heartily!

Friday has arrived again. The neighbors are clearing brush. Mylo barked, and the little boy barked back. He is working like a little champ. Our trash removal is over a week late. Their Trash Day has been a movable feast for months. Usually from Thursday to Saturday. Now we have passed Thursday twice and no big truck. In the halcyon days of my youth, our trash man collected his money at the front door once a month. He was a pleasant old man, and he announced who he was when he knocked, ‘Garbage Man!’

We move forward in some ways and take two steps back in others. Now we are thrilled to hear a human voice on the other end of the phone. Sometimes it is hard to tell AI from a human. For efficiency’s sake, we have traded humanity. It was not long ago that a checkout person took care of our purchases in the grocery or department store. Lowes in our town has no checkout staff. You are basically on your own with minimal help. The AI experts all agree that millions of jobs will be lost to the emerging technology. They go on to say that people will have to be retrained for open jobs. This has the ring of a Marshall Plan that has not seemingly started.

The future is a bit frightening in its rapid change. We seek the familiar. Brooks Pond on a June morning. The Mowers are mowing. Plans for a pre-4th of July Cookout Saturday. Jonathon bought Brats. The unchangebul is comforting. Mr. Beaver is working on his Damn. The sound of mowing and weedeating is fun if your are not the one doing the work.

‘Welcome all come in and kick your shoes off and take your coasts off and throw them in the corner,’ Willie said with a big smile. ‘We are going to play a few numbers for you,’ Willie continued. ‘My friends are passing around some fine smoking if you know what I mean, Willie winked. ‘I know the news has been upsetting but we are not here to think about that,’ Willie strumed a cord on his well worn guitar. He sang the song I’ll Fly Away and tears came to many eyes in the audience.

‘We interupt this program to tell you that Russia has fired 100 nuculear warheads at the United States…all should take cover immeadiately,’ the newscaster said through a quavering voice.

Willie lay on the stage with wires protruding from his chest and head…