‘I have never ridden a train before,’ Jane said with glee. ‘This is exciting,’ Jane continued. ‘I can’t wait to get to New Orleans,’ Jane said, dancing up and down. ‘We are going to hear some great jazz,’ Jane mused. ‘Bourbon Street will be fun,’ Jane winked. ‘I am told that New Orleans is like no other city,’ Jane offered for consideration.

‘Is this the train to New Orleans? I am booked for Alaska?’ the Travelling Man remarked. ‘We visited Alaska twice, but both times on cruises, we wanted to see it from a land tour,’ Travelling Man continued. ‘On the first visit Fernie got sick and we had to leave the cruise, so we took another to make up for it,’ Travelling Man remarked. ‘How is it that I am going to Alaska and you are going to New Orleans?’ Travelling Man asked Jane.

The Preacher of the Woods began to speak. ‘Welcome Seekers,’ the Preacher said. ‘We are looking for home,’ the Preacher continued. ‘Some of you came from the cities and others from the plains, while some came from the Sahara,’ the Preacher said. ‘Soon we will leave for our destinations and the surprise that awaits us,’ the Preacher said. ‘What a trip it has been with the stones and boulders in our path, we grew weary, but we did not stop in our quest,’ the Preacher said. ‘Contrary to popular belief, we will be getting off at different stops where our lives have taken us, so hold on tight and enjoy the ride,’ the Preacher laughed and danced on one foot and then the other.

‘Mama said there would be days like this,’ Chet said. ‘We are going to Edinburgh, Scotland, while others on the Train say they are bound for New Orleans and Alaska,’ Chet remarked. ‘Could it be that we have crossed over and do not realise it?’ Chet asked. ‘This Train should not be able to reach all of the destinations the riders are expecting,’ Chet postulated. ‘Yesterday I was thinking of fall and Labour Day and then Halloween,’ Chet remarked. ‘Now I am on a Train to Edinburgh and do not understand the mechanics of it,’ Chet said. ‘I noticed in the Florist that no one seemed to hear me or see me, although I could hear and see the customers and the Florist very well,’ Chet said. ‘I ended up leaving my money for some flowers I purchased on the counter and exiting with a funny feeling,’ Chet observed. ‘I do not remember anything after I heard the Leader say…Take Shelter…

A quiet falls. Settled and safe. The birds sing their evening tunes. Night workers prepare to report. It is reset time. Travel on the Big Rock can be dizzying. Flying through space while twirling like a top is not for the fainthearted. We are constantly getting on the ride and getting off. The bullfrogs are practicing their symphony.

Summer is here in all of its glory. There is more of it left, we think, as we pull the string out of the enclosed box. The day is drawing near when the string will run out. Swimming days at Pounds Hollow and movies at the Orpheum Theatre, and…what…school starts in a week. We were just setting off fireworks and listening to the pop of firecrackers and…what…school supplies. The promise was long, and the event was short.

The clock is ticking. It seemed we were masters; we were simple servants. We were visitors in our lives. We watched the reels turn, the film making its distinct flicking sound. The people on the movie screen were having a good time. Laughter filled the soundtrack of their lives. They had little, but appreciated it greatly. They did not take themselves too seriously. ‘Wars and rumors of wars, but the end is not yet.’ The preacher said I have the answer, I am the answer. Scene change without warning.

The Old Man walked through the Woods. He thought of joys and sorrows. Men acting their prescribed role of leader and strutted and fretted across the Stage. They had preened and pirouetted. Their inner insecurities are revealed through their rhetoric. The demolished barns were to be replaced with bigger barns. They had the answers to life’s persistent questions. The Sirens sang their song, and the people listened. ‘I will give you all that you see if you will fall down and worship me.’

The Bullfrog Quartet is tuning their bass. The little boy walks his dog. The clock is ticking. All is well if it is well with your soul.

Talking is easy; communication is hard. The Circus Ringleader announced a new act in the center ring. A Statesman will speak. The audience looked perplexed. One called out, ‘What is a Statesman?’ The Statesman spoke for a few minutes. He spoke of compromise and harmony of purpose. The Statesman spoke of One Nation Under God. The Statesman spoke of freedom from sea to shining sea. The people became restless. One hit the Statesman with a rotten tomato. ‘Send in the clowns, there have to be clowns,’ a woman called out.

Evening is falling quickly now. The brilliant vestiges of blue sky are becoming dim. The little boy and his dog are safely in Grandma’s house. Milk and cookies are delicious on a summer evening. Especially if the milk is served in big porcelain cups.

Today is another soothing day. It could be a Pleasant Valley Monday. Well, after all, it is the day after Sunday. While we may be embarking on a week of adventure and fun, others may be in the ‘slough of Despond.’ The comforting thought is that God is with us in both the good times and the not-so-good times.

For 57 years, I have read about Christ healing the sick during His time on earth. I witnessed healing twice. There was a quiet surety of God’s presence. As the woman said, ‘If I can but touch the hem of his garment.’

Now, when I say I witnessed healings twice, I am speaking of a profound change in someone who was desperately ill returning to health. I actually believe Jesus heals us daily in his quiet walk with us. The television preacher who puts the spotlight on the many healings of their tent revival service, with the focus being on them and their supposed God given gift, is a sham. It is a study in narcissism and making money from people’s suffering.

When you touch the hem of Christ’s garment, you know it, and he knows it. Often, God uses physicians to assist him in his healing ministry on earth. We are healed and jump off the examination table to go forth and conquer. We know something is different as our Guardian Angel smiles in the background. In the corner of our eye, we see the tassels at the bottom of a long flowing garment walking out of the doctor’s office door…

‘Did you know the Carnivale has come to town?’ Chet asked. ‘I look for it year-round,’ Chet continued. ‘It represents our struggle with good and evil in entertainment form,’ Chet laughed. ‘Last August I visited the headless man,’ Chet noted. ‘After his performance, I snuck backstage and there he was smoking a cigar and sitting in a plush Victorian chair,’ Chet said. ‘When the Headless man saw me, he motioned for me to come into his living room and sit down for a chat,’ Chet observed. ‘He knew my name and the names of my mom and dad,’ Chet whispered. ‘We spoke of the War in Vietnam and the assassination of President Kennedy,’ Chet continued. ‘The Headless Man said that her had been in Vietnam and seen combat,’ Chet informed. ‘He mentioned his wife and three kids in New York and how glad he would be to see them in the winter when the Carnivale shut down till the spring,’ Chet said. ‘The Headless Man asked me if I had thought of joining the Carnivale,’ Chet said. ‘He noted that it is the perfect place for a rebel against artificial order. Chet winked. ‘Carnivale accepts the unacceptable,’ Chet noted. ‘Those who stick out in the restrictive milieu of conventional people fit right in with Carnivale,’ Chet grinned. ‘As I was talking with the Headless Man, three Gnomes passed by and bid us good day,’ Chet said. ‘They were carrying bundles of toys for Christmas on their backs,’ Chet laughed. ‘I asked them where they were going and they replied that Santa was already deep in his Christmas preparations and needed their services.’ Chet danced on one foot and then the other.

‘Well, of course, the Headless Man was not truly headless…right,’ Jane asked. ‘It was a show of mirrors, Jane said. ‘Did you see how he portrayed himself as headless?’ Jane asked.

‘The Headless Man held his head under his arm and during our conversation, he lit a cigar to place in his bodyless head’s mouth while remaining seated in his favorite chair,’ Chet smiled knowingly. ‘He complimented me on my lack of shock or surprise,’ Chet said. ‘The Headless Man observed that being headless was an advantage in Vietnam as he could be in two places at once,’ Chet smiled. ‘The Headless Man said he had observed that he made sounder decisions than political leaders who have their head attached to their bodies,’ Chet laughed.

‘Come One, Come All to see what the Carnivale Master has created,’ the Carnivale Barker announced with aplomb. ‘In just a moment, we will reveal a leader for our times that we have created in our Carnivale Trailer, we call the Laboratory,’ Carnivale Barker said. ‘Some call him the forerunner of Christ while others call him the Antichrist,’ Carnivale said softly. ‘He loves those who love him until…he does not,’ Carnivale Barker warned. ‘The Faux Leader refuses labels as he is guided by a Strange Spirit,’ CB said. ‘He promises everything to his acolytes and subsequently tells them he does not want their love or support and refers to them as stupid,’ CB noted. ‘People hate him until they see him, and his gaze mesmerizes them,’ CB observed. ‘He is like Medusa, where if you look upon him, you will be turned into stone,’ Carnivale Barker warned. ‘Remember my warning, dear friends, as I must leave you now and not look upon his visage,’ CB whispered.

‘Welcome, my friends…I am here for you and your needs,’ Faux Leader said with a jaunty dance and a wicked smile. ‘I will provide the Necessary Things for you,’ FL said with a smirk. ‘Do not fear the Antichrist…I kind of like the title,’ Faux Leader assured with a wink.

The cool air is refreshing. Thoughts of falling leaves are in my vision. The simple things in life are fine art. No conflict, just peace. Hope for tomorrow is in reality hope for today. As is said, today is the tomorrow that we worried about yesterday. God is in control. I often said this is a young Christian. I especially uttered those words when counseling someone who was having difficulties. As I said the words, I wondered if I really believed my own rhetoric. Now I am old and know the words are true. Experience is a wise teacher. When we are young, we know the words to the hymn, and as an old man, I know the author.

Saturdays were for doing something different than working during my youth. Living in Elkville, a road trip to the big city of Carbondale was an adventure. The Mall was Main Street under one roof. The Mall had many restaurants and a theatre. There were so many shops that you did not know which one to enter. Upscale items are out of my price range, but not my dreams. During the Christmas Season, on Saturday, the Mall was full of people, as well as all the parking lots surrounding it. Mongomery Ward had our first home computer. It was $2,000, good for word processing and playing The Oregon Trail. I knew times were changing.

The mystery of kids changing before your eyes is seen on a pleasant Saturday. It is like watching a movie on fast forward. You have to jump into the malestrom or be left behind.

Saturday is a good day to see the new Naked Gun movie. MJ and I laughed until tears coursed down our cheeks when the original Naked Gun with Leslie Nielsen came out. It premiered on December 2, 1988. I was 31 and was happy to be a member of the 30s Club. The Thirty Somethings was a television show. I had been the assistant superintendent of my department for a couple of years. Home computers were not around yet.

Regular Order is a good thing. We have become a nation of daily surprises. Tinkering with our government for fun and ‘manosphere’ praise is not healthy. Families are raised on the regular order of a settled life. Not the chaos of constant change for change’s sake.

Saturdays in Eldorado were fun. No school. Saturday matinee at the Orpheum Theatre. Frankenstein on the big screen. Popcorn and a Coke and dreams of far-off lands. Many folks in my halcyon days enjoyed Honky Tonkin on Saturday night. Then came Sunday, and no stores were open nor alcohol sold. People did not cut their grass on Sunday in honor of the Lord’s Day. But Saturday belonged to night dreams…

This is a beautiful Friday. The temperature has a hint of fall in it. A father and his little girl were getting ready to explore a trail in the Woods. The Old Man remembered all that he had not thought of, why he likes cool weather so much. The air is sweeter. No sweat. No cares or worries. An abundance of peace. I wrote of a magician pulling a rabbit out of his top hat. Today, I pulled out a happy laughing rabbit. I smiled when I saw him despite myself. It is not every day you pull a jovial rabbit. We need a laughing rabbit just now. One of my dear friends is ill in St. Louis. She and her family are wonderful people. We were colleagues for years, and she is inspirational.

I have another dear friend who is a bit lost and needs to find his way. The simple privilege of being in his presence lifts my day. He is kind and considerate. He is brilliant both in mind and personality.

We seek understanding among the ruins of society. We are a bit like Job scraping ourselves with shards of pottery. We look for the answer in others when we contain the solutions. We want to look behind the Veil. We want to see ourselves in a good light rather than looking through a mirror darkly. We live in a microcosm of God’s plan. Our Earth seems vast to us. However, what does it look like from his point of view? When we see each other as God sees us, we have an affinity for all. Life is bigger than the money we make or what we pay in taxes. We are participants in a Grand Experiment. We do not have a ticket to this ride, nor a ticket to get off.

We focus on minutiae. Such is our physical world. Our spirits desire to soar with the eagles. The doctor did not tell us when he extracted us from our mother’s belly and slapped us on our butt that this is a quick and exciting ride. We thought we would always be nursing at Mama’s breast. Soon, it was school days and all types of kids. Fat kids and skinny kids and kids who ride on bikes…short kids and even kids with chicken pox love hot dogs…Oscar Mayer Hot Dogs…the Dogs kids love to eat,’ the television commercial said. What a rush life is! Then there is love and marriage and pushing a baby carriage…Frank Sinatra sang. Seeing the Cubs play live at Wrigley Stadium and watching Ryne Sandberg as a young player… Dinner at an upscale restaurant on the Gold Coast in Chicago, and having just enough money to pay the bill. Finger Bowls. The jauntly dressed footman pouring the coffee from two feet above the cup at the Omni Ambassador East. Telling the Hare Krishna devotee that I did not want his thick free book when he subsequently asked for a donation. Being asked by the Chicago Cubs Fans in the bleachers if we were Cubs Fans, and when we said we were, their joyful acceptance of us. Telling the surly cab driver who lectured me on what cab I was supposed to take, and his withdrawal from the confrontation. As my friend Lee Phemister told me the time he was driving in Chicago, a Police Officer directing traffic motioned for him to proceed and called him ‘Country’, and Lee wondered how he knew.

Europe was a mystery. We explored it by the skin of our teeth. Our dear friends Margo and Jeff helped us. I ordered a pastry in Paris. The woman waiting on me said Voila. I responded Voila. Then MJ came in, and it was no longer Voila. The French woman scowled.

‘I have been watching you,’ God said. ‘I like your style,’ God continued. ‘You have moxy,’ God grinned. ‘I want you to teach a class for me on the joy of living,’ God laughed.

If I remember anything of July, it will be the Heat Dome. I can not recall a hotter July. Then again, isn’t that what all the old people say? Two fun events have happened at the end of this long, hot road. Marcy and Brock visited us, and Jennifer joined our festivities. I learned that Brock visited the Old West on a Switch game, and it made me want one. It was time travel amidst laughs. Last night we attended a reading by Jonathon of five of his works. The hosts were welcoming, and a nice crowd enjoyed the stories. The readings sparked my imagination. Now, school days are almost here. Time is moving quickly.

We live in a miracle of possibilities. Some events I have visualized, while others come as a surprise. Each day is a new adventure. We are the magicians pulling a rabbit out of our hat.

‘Just one more question,’ Detective Columbo asked. ‘I was wondering why the blood of the deceased is on your shirt collar,’ DC said. ‘Did you rub your shirt collar on the deceased wound before calling me?’ Columbo said. ‘Has my rumpled trench coat and unassuming manner caused you to underestimate my crime-solving skills?’ Columbo asked. ‘Perhaps my tousled hair and humble actions put you at ease while you forgot to clean up the crime that you committed,’ Columbo observed. ‘Being underestimated has always been a gift,’ DC observed. ‘While the smooth talkers and well-dressed detectives are applauded, I continue to shuffle along solving crimes,’ Columbo smiled and winked.

So it goes that we who do not occupy center stage are often ignored in favor of the glamorous and elite. If you do not look the part, many assume you must be a bystander on the road of life. The ability to marshal people to the cause of a leader who has nothing but his interests at heart has never been clearer. Lies spoken often have power. Panache and flash capture our attention and serve as acceptable to many who do not dig down into the reality of the promises given.

‘Oh my, what a luxurious wedding cake,’ the Bride said. ‘It has ten tiers and icing like I have never seen with gold filigree,’ the Bride continued. ‘My soon-to-be husband is a body builder and muscles like Charles Atlas,’ the Bride said excitedly. ‘My betrothed is taking me and his best friend Precious on a worldwide cruise for our honeymoon, the bride exulted. ‘Precious is his personal assistant and such a skilled person and so sweet,’ the Bride noted. ‘Often he and Precious work for hours in his office while I watch Life Styles of the Rich and Famous,’ the Bride informed. ‘It is time to cut the Cake,’ the Bride announced. ‘What is happening…there is nothing but sawdust behind the wonderful frosting,’ the Bride cried out in sorrow…

Look for the introverts around you. Look for those who say what they mean and have your best interests at heart. Who among your friends listens to you and seems reluctant to speak of themselves? Those who are applauded for their deeds and not their rhetoric.

‘I was on the unicycle tonight,’ Chet said with surprise. ‘Jonathon was reading about the Unicycle Man and suddenly I was balancing myself on the single wheel,’ Chet continued. ‘I tipped my top hat to my girlfriend and she blushed and waved her hanky at me,’ Chet demurred. ‘I fell off the Unicycle once, but my girlfriend was looking the other way, and I was grateful,’ Chet laughed. She had her Maltese with her, and he barked and barked when I fell,’ Chet noted. She told me that I had gotten off the tall Unicycle quickly, and I responded that I jumped.’ Chet laughed.

‘I remembered the Pug dog that David had when I was a lad,’ Billy B said. ‘He made a heck of a rucus when he ate,’ Billy B laughed. ‘His face betrayed eternal happiness,’ Billy B smiled. ‘Lexy has some awesome art, and she is so nice when she shook the tambourine, the readings became more powerful,’ Billy B observed. ‘I felt like I was home in her Art Studio,’ Billy B said.

‘The story about the coffee creamer illustrated the power of little things to demonstrate love,’ Jane said. ‘I considered why we judge a book by its cover instead of opening the pages and reading it,’ Jane explained. ‘What seems to be strange is often exceptional and a diamond in the rough,’ Jane exclaimed. ‘We must know people and not by first impressions,’ Jane said.

‘The man and his dog so perfectly describe Billy B and Mylo, Neva J said. ‘I agree that they look alike and at times act alike,’ Neva J proclaimed. ‘Jonathon’s writings pointed a spotlight on our assumptions and presumptions,’ Neva J observed. ‘When people are genuine, they are different,’ Neva J explained. ‘God made us all different like various spices in an Irish Stew,’ Neva J laughed. ‘Our differences bring the flavor to life,’ Neva J danced on one foot and then the other.

Billy B and Mylo sat on the couch. They were enjoying the television program they were watching. ‘I think we do look alike,’ Mylo said.

‘I am intrigued by time travel, ‘Jennifer said with a smile. ‘Backward or forward would be fine with me,’ Jennifer continued. ‘Just think if we could go back in time, we could see our departed loved ones and tell them things we did not have time to say before they left us,’ Jennifer said softly.’ ‘Or we could travel forward just a few years and see how our life plans worked out,’ Jennifer laughed. ‘If we had the benefit of looking forward in time, our current existence would no doubt be altered,’ Jennifer winked. ‘Where would we be today if we had the benefit of foresight?’ Jennifer grinned. ‘Perhaps our faith journeys would be altered,’ Jennifer continued. ‘Why do we do what we do and act in the manner we do?’ Jennifer observed. ‘

‘I would have changed some things, ‘Brock noted. ‘I would have gotten to know my brother from another mother sooner,’ Brock laughed. ‘We could have ridden ponies together,’ Brock winked. ‘I like ponies,’ Brock said. ‘I would like to travel back in time to the Old West, Brock observed. ‘I would travel throughout the land of the settlers and work to know them and their lives,’ Brock said. ‘If some inbred farmers told me to get off of their land, I would have challenged them, Brock laughed. ‘If an old man sitting in a chair asked me for my help, I would not kill him; instead, I would help him,’ Brock noted. ‘I would wear the Gambler’s hat my big brother gave me, and thus I would be a Gambler,’ Brock winked. ‘With my gaming skills, I would be a card shark in Dodge City,’ Brock assured.

‘I would learn about my ancestors in my Tennessee home,’ Marcy said. ‘I would participate in the lives of my grandparents and great-grandparents,’ Marcy continued. ‘I would tell them of their great-grandchildren that were in the 21st Century,’ Marcy said with purpose. ‘They would know better of Jeb and Jaime and how wonderful they are,’ Marcy said with a tear in her eye. ‘I would learn of the old ways and the healing paths of our forebears,’ Marcy said. ‘The better way has been lost in the din of modern life, and I would recapture it,’ Marcy said with a wide smile.

‘I would write for the Dodge City Times,’ Jonathon said triumphantly. ‘There was a lot of news that did not get reported in the Old West, and I would report it,’ Jonathon noted. ‘I would write pulp fiction,’ Jonathon said with a gleam in his eyes. ‘What was Wyatt Earp really like, or Doc Holiday?’ Jonathon asked? ‘What is the true story of Gunfight at the OK Corral?’ Jonathon said. ‘Were the Earp brothers altogether good or did they have a mean streak?’ Jonathon asked.

‘I want to see the universe up close,’ Aaron said. ‘I have always wanted to fly like the Jetsons,’ Aaron laughed. ‘I want to visit Mars and spend time with the colonists,’ Aaron winked. ‘I would like to attend a NASCAR Race on the Moon,’ Aaron said as he made a zoom zoom noise. ‘We are going to have to colonize other planets in the future, and I would like to be a part of the process,’ Aaron observed. ‘We must overcome the dysfunctionality of politics on Earth,’ Aaron said. ‘There must be a solution in the future for our present distress,’ Aaron said quietly.

‘Well, they have a time machine at Fugiyama, and after our Hibachi Grilled Dinner, we will avail ourselves of it,’ Mary Jane said with aplomb. ‘The Time Machine is included in the price of the Meal, and if you do not eat, you still have to pay five dollars for the Chef Show and the Time Machine,’ Mary Jane laughed a knowing laugh…

It is 94 degrees, and hard to imagine that it will not always be this way. That is the way of the heart of all the seasons. In the depths of winter, we wonder if we will ever be warm again. Then someone will ask what kind of winter we had, and we will say not too bad. Experiencing heat or cold at their zenith is a brainwash for what came before. So it goes with many aspects of living. When we are out of work, we wonder if we will work again, and when we work for some time, we hope for retirement. When we are overwhelmed, we pray for respite, and when we are looking for something to do, we think pleasant thoughts of the days when we were busy. We want a holiday vacation time in another climate and a place we have not seen. Soon we will be ready to go home, where we know the peaceful routine.

Kids see the handwriting on the wall. School starts in August. Was it not June yesterday? There is swimming to be done. There are hikes to take. Neva J loved badminton. She was a badminton aficionado. She loved to strike the birdie. The net was erected from early spring to late fall. She and our neighbor Ivy played daily. Ivy hit the birdie and puffed a Pall Mall cigarette. Ivy was worldwise and did not suffer fools gladly. She cursed like a man and smoked like a man. When she and her husband Bob were together, Ivy did all the talking Bob did all the listening. In the suburbs in the summer in the 60s in almost August, we all spent our waking hours in our backyards. George and Helen, our next-door neighbors, drank copious amounts of beer and barbecued daily. George called me Dr. Brooks. They had thick Chicago accents.

Dad played Jai Ali where you used a long curved wooden scoop to catch or throw a hard ball against a wall. The appearance of Jai Ali was mesmerizing. The ball reached high speeds. It became popular in the middle of the 20th century.

The thoughts of the classroom and the fine desks we had in the 60s became compelling at this point in the Dog Days. The desktop raised, and you could place all of your stuff in the compartment underneath. We even had ink wells, but no longer needed them. Pencils were the writing utensil of choice in those halcyon days. Big Chief notebooks were our paper, and they had big spaces between the ruled surface. A ruler and a bottle of paste were necessities. Writing on the blackboard was part of academic success. Immediately, I found that the classroom was hotter than home. No air conditioners, just big windows. When I looked out of the open windows as the fan blew hot air on me, I recalled fondly playing badminton in the backyard.