‘Oh sweet mystery of life at last I’ve found you,’ the singer proclaims. The discovery of life’s mystery is easier to sing about…than to discover. I asked an old gentleman…probably my age at the time…what he could recall about the 1940s…and he replied that it had been so long ago and he had been so busy working…that he did not remember much. He went on to say that looking back on the 40s was little more than a blur in his memory. I think that there was more truth in his words than I realized at the time of our conversation. Working at Life…tends to obscure Life.

The Geese surprised me this morning. I was at my favorite Campus Pond and when I rounded the corner of some foliage…there were many of them languidly indulging in a Thursday morning swim. When they saw me… they did not flinch or Honk. We have seen each other before. As their world swirled about them…they were singularly focused on the tasks at hand…swimming and bobbing for food.

I spoke to my old friend yesterday. Our conversation made my day! There are many who say that they are your friend…but there is only a handful…who live their title and claim. Those that do so…are worth their weight in gold. So to be present for your life…is a worthy cause. To have a sense of place and purpose in life is a bringer of contentment and happiness.

Chet did not seem to have many friends. He was a bit of a loner…with thick glasses that made his eyes look pronounced. He appeared to be just the type of friend that Billy B. wanted to have. Most of Billy B.s first grade class already knew each other due to having gone through kindergarten together. Billy B. had not attended kindergarten nor had he lived in Eldorado until a week prior to school beginning. Billy B. had begun life as a rather outgoing person until his mom and dad began having marital difficulties and he witnessed the unhappiness that their problems brought both of them. The move to Eldorado had been a surprise for Billy B. and he had been told it was for the purpose of mom and dad making amends and dad getting away from the ‘other woman’ in Chicago. So…Billy B. had become contemplative as life delivered him a massive change from his Leave It To Beaver lifestyle…to a big and cold and haunted house across from the High School…that had a rat in the bathtub the first morning the family awakened. Chet was a breath of fresh air and a good and faithful friend. He and Billy B. liked to play with soldiers and cowboys and sundry action figures. Chet liked his hot dogs directly out of the package and Billy B. learned to like them that way too…although Neva J. was appalled. Life had presented lemons to Billy B. or a New Normal…as some would say…and he acclimated to it with gusto with his good friend Chet.

What appears to be devastating can often be a door of opportunity…if we are willing and able to walk through it…

Mylo has a friend in the mirror. He visits him each day. At times he barks…at other times he kisses the Maltese In The Mirror…and at still other occasions he stares for a bit. Mylo is fascinated by the mirror image of himself…it is another Maltese with a good haircut…from another dimension. At times we feel somewhat like Mylo. We see the mirror image of ourselves and wonder what that good-looking person is like and what they are all about? My quest for photos of Little Egypt continues. I am on a search for who I was…and who I am at this elderly stage of my life. I was in DuQuoin, Illinois today, and everywhere that I looked brought back memories of my youth. DuQuoin was the big city for me when I was a teenager. DuQuoin had the State Fair, one of two in Illinois, and they hosted the largest Harness Racing event in the United States, the Hambletonian. Famous celebrities came to DuQuoin including; Bob Hope and Red Skelton. The DuQuoin State Fair had the mystery of the Freak and Mystery Shows. Was there really a headless woman?

So…we read where the President of our University tells us that although he received a hefty pay raise as well as the Chancellor of SIUC…they still are underpaid… He wishes that he had more money for pay raises for staff…who he notes deserve a pay raise…but the revenue is not there… Southern Illinois University @ Carbondale is settled among some of the poorest people in Illinois. There are the senior citizens who must decide whether to purchase their prescription drugs for the month…or eat. Southern Illinois’ children are excited regarding school will soon begin…because they are hungry and only get well-balanced meals…at school. The residents of Little Egypt…walk…they have no money for gas. Every town in Southern Illinois that I have visited over the last few months has houses that are falling down around the ears of the families that inhabit them. SIUC was founded to be a missionary outreach to the poor citizens of Little Egypt.

I was sad when I read an announcement this morning that Tony Dow, the actor who played Beavers’ older brother Wally on Leave It To Beaver, had died. On October 2nd, 2021 I was wondering what to do with the three extra hours that I had on a rainy Saturday. Our house cleaners were going to be doing some deep cleaning and I did not want to be in their way. I set sail for Caper Girardeau, Missouri to meet Tony Dow and Jerry Mathers…Wally and The Beaver. They were at Comic Con at the Ramada Inn near the airport. Leave It To Beaver was an iconic television program to me. I watched the show on Prime Time in Sauk Village which is a suburb of Chicago, Illinois. I remember distinctly how much I identified with the happy suburban lifestyle that the Cleaver family enjoyed. The street that they lived on…looked like my street. The friends that Wally and the ‘Beave’ had reminded me of my friends. My mom wore dresses and pearls around the house on many occasions. Happiness seemed a birthright to me…because I did not know any different. All of that changed when I became five years old and my mother and father began having marital troubles that ended in our moving to Eldorado in Southern Illinois and then their subsequent divorce and mom and me standing in commodity lines for a five-pound block of Commodity Cheese and Potted Meat and Dry Milk. So…I looked back at the Prime Time TV run of Leave It To Beaver and the idyllic days in Sauk Village…with nothing but fond memories.

There was quite a crowd at the Ramada Inn Convention Center and I had trouble finding a parking spot. When I entered I did not see Wally and ‘The Beave’ anywhere…but a kind gentleman directed me to where they were signing autographs and having photos taken with them. Jerry Mather’s wife explained the pricing of the photos and autographs and I chose what she recommended. I was struck by how much older Wally and Beaver looked..but then again it had been over 60 years. When I approached Jerry Mathers I told him that I had grown up watching him in Leave It To Beaver and that my early childhood had been reminiscent of the show. He responded that you must have had a wonderful childhood.’ When it was time to have my photo taken with the two of them I ruminated as to whether I wanted to have the photo taken with my hat on or off. Jerry said that was a tough decision.

Tony Dow was quiet and friendly. I had read that he had recently been in the hospital for Covid. His wife seemed very loving and protective of him. As I stood between the two actors and heroes of my youth…I thought of how time had passed so quickly. I had caught snippets of Jerry Mather’s career after Leave It To Beaver and watched a remake of the show and noticed that he had lost a bit of weight. I read that Tony had been a producer and was an active artist. After I met Wally and ‘The Beave’ I watched some videos of Tony and his wife that they had made during the height of our Pandemic and I noticed the genuineness of him and his authentic comments about their life.

The cool breezes of 74 degrees are blowing through the Writing Porch. A placid peaceful rain is falling. Monday has arrived again and all is right with the world. Summer is scampering away from us. We may not miss this Herculean Hot summer as much as we have missed summers in times past. As I have regularly gotten a bit older I have learned one valuable lesson…showing up is half..or more…of the battle. So often our fears and misconceptions and lack of direction…prevent us from simply showing up. As an employee for most of my life, I discovered that the best habit to develop was to report for work on a regular basis. You can learn most any job duty…if you are there to be taught it. If you are not there…failure is the result. As a writer, I plan on writing every day. As a photographer, I take photos daily. As a Walker, I walk on a daily basis. Good routines make for a good life.

When I first became a manager at Southern Illinois University @ Carbondale I was 29 years old. I thought that was old…but I have found that I was wrong. Each day for the first year when it was time to report for my management job…I was nauseous. I was afraid that I was not up to the task and that I probably would be a failure. One of my first duties when I arrived at Building Services as the Assistant Superintendent…was to meet with the Superintendent. This was a daily affair and I dreaded it. He was a serious man with little humor when it came to me. I took copious notes to ensure that I would not forget his instructions to me…and I was determined to succeed. I knew that I had three people; MJ and Aaron and Jonathon who were counting on me to not fail. I held the position for over twelve years before becoming the Superintendent.

Vincent van Gogh sold only one painting during his tumultuous life. He painted 900. He was mentally ill…but he persevered and today is one of the most renowned artists in the world. Vincent cut off his left ear…but he did not stop painting. I wrote the other day that Art Is Life…and it is. Many of us must do our Art…as it is like breathing to us. The value of Art has been diminished at times during our human history…especially in the Industrial Age and our current higher education of credentialing rather than education. The facts are that every academic discipline is resting on the human family’ love and hunger and thirst for Art. Our Bible was written by men who were inspired by their Art of Faith and the desire to see the unseen. Architecture illustrates the physical manifestation of the sublime. Geology is the study of the artistic mystery of our earth. History records the struggle and progress of the human family as we travel back to our mutual home.

Strive to be present in the unfolding of your life. We must remove our noses from our iPhones and iPads…and look around at the breathtaking beauty of our family and colleagues and friends…our home and our sense of place. Leave your comfort zone and try something new and in the trying…renew yourself on our short walk back the Jerusalem…

‘I love going to Grandma Askews’ house and staying with her and Aunt Guelda for a few days,’ mused Billy B. ‘There is a place for everything and everything is in its’ place,’ he continued. ‘I always feel warm and happy when I see her rocking chair and the old and worn King James Bible on the little table next to the chair,’ Jane said with a tear in her eye. ‘Your Grandma A. has the coldest and sweetest milk that I have ever drank,’ Chet offered with a wide grin. ‘I think that Nugget…is a badass dude,’ Darryl laughed. ‘He barks at me every time I enter his room where he sleeps on the easy chair that is next to the couch,’ Darryl continued. ‘When I try to pet him he snarls and bares his teeth and simply will have none of it,’ Chet noted. ‘Grandma did not always live such a sedate and settled life,’ Billy B. said.

‘Mom…I am hungry…when will daddy be home,’ Neva J. asked. ‘I could eat as well…it has been two days…’ Get The Point…Get The Point…,’ Gene or Fetch as Neva J. called him, said with a sour look on his face. ‘Why don’t we hunt for some venison in the woods…Gene has a bow and arrow set…maybe he could bag us a deer,’ Wanda asked? ‘I think that our two dads…are lazy loafers and drunkards and abusive,’ Beulah said with anger in her eyes! ‘Mom suffered though Gueldas and my dad being abusive and not feeding his family and Neva J. and Gene and Wanda suffered with a drunkard for a father,’ Beulah continued. ‘Now…now…Beulah… let us go to the woods and see what the Lord will provide for us,’ Grandma A. said with a look of peace that was baffling.

‘Persimmons is all that I see,’ Neva J. said with disgust. ‘Neva J. persimmons are good to eat and they are good for you…fill your basket full of them and we will eat them for our supper tonight,’ Grandma A. said. ‘I bet Dad is eating at his favorite Bar and drinking Old Fashions and Dirty Martinis,’ said Fetch with tears in his eyes. ‘Yes…but God will provide for us…and God loves your father too,’ Grandma Askew said in a whisper.

‘Come and get it…fried chicken and mashed potatoes and green beans with bacon cooked in them,’ Grandma A. said with a wide smile. ‘Here is your fried chicken…Narky, which is the name Grandma A. gave Nugget during the last few years of his life, and I have included some mashed potatoes…just like you like them,’ Grandma A. said with a beaming smile.

Settled and Secure comes from being unsettled and insecure. Life brings to us many challenges and trials and tribulations. Often we feel like it might be the end or at least a new normal that we are not ready for. We watch our neighbors and friends and colleagues go through trying times and say by the grace of God that has not hit me as yet…but wait…none of us are exempt.

‘Did you know that there is a heat advisory for today, asked Billy B.? ‘What is a heat advisory,’ replied Chet. ‘They are issued when it gets so hot that the heat can make you ill,’ Billy B. said. ‘I feel ill often when I am outdoors under the Sun…especially the noonday Sun,’ Neva J. commented. ‘The summer sun is so glaring and intense that houses and even a small town…spontaneously combusted,’ Jane commented. ‘I do not know many people who have an air conditioner in their home…or car…just window fans that you place on exhaust out of a window at night and attempt to draw in some cooler night air,’ Darryl mentioned. ‘And that is not very effective…I can tell you as I lay in a pool of my own perspiration…and clasp my damp sheets,’ Billy B. said with a grimace. ‘It makes me appreciate fall and the cool breezes of autumn,’ Chet said with a smile on his face.

As Chet and Billy B. were watching ‘The Day The Earth Stood Still’ at the Orpheum Theatre and enjoying the luxurious air conditioning…Chet had an idea. He wondered what Klaatu, the alien who looked like a human in the movie and played by Michael Rennie, would do to solve the problem of the heatwave? ‘Ride bicycles more and stop burning fossil fuels,’ Klaatu said. Now, this was indeed a surprise to Chet as Klaatu was speaking directly to him…and there he was…in the movie. ‘Hello Klaatu…how is it that I am in ‘The Day The Earth Stood Still’ and yet I can see myself eating popcorn and setting next to Billy B. in the audience,’ said Chet. ‘Well…you had a question and I thought that I would take a moment to answer it for you…as you can see by the theme of the movie…Klaatu and Gort came to Earth to warn the inhabitants of the planet that they must cease to be warlike or they would have to be destroyed,’ said Klaatu. ‘The question you have postulated will in the next few decades become the most important question that any occupant of earth can ask,’ Klattu continued. ‘Being hot and thinking little of it…will soon not be an option for earthlings,’ Klattu said with a sigh. ‘The problem of Global Warming was not on many people’s radar in the 1960s…but in the next century…it will be all anyone can talk about,’ Klattu said in little more than a whisper. ‘The earth is a great and fragile gift…the balancing of mankind’s needs…are mostly mankind’s wants…while the needs of the earth are almost being totally ignored,’ Klattu said.

Chet remembered his mysterious talk with Klaatu. He understood what had been a nuisance…was now a nemesis. The other day it was 104 degrees in the United Kingdom. The glaciers were rapidly melting. Tornadoes were now a mile wide when they touched the earth. Yet people still were fighting over political/religious conspiracy theories.

Vincent van Gogh has come to live at our house. I have been a van Gogh admirer for many years. Jonathon ordered him from the Getty Museum in Los Angles, California. On the box that he came in are 10 Vincent Van Gogh facts:

1. Born in 1853 in the Netherlands.
2. It was cheaper for him to paint self-portraits than to hire models.
3. He voluntarily admitted himself to a mental asylum.
4. He signed his works with his first name only.
5. In less than 10 years he produced more than 900 works.
6. He only sold one painting during his lifetime.
7. He wrote more than 600 letters to his brother Theo, an art dealer.
8. After a quarrel with his friend Paul Gaugin, he cut off his left ear.
9. He died of a gunshot wound in France.
10. His last words were ‘The sadness will last forever.’

MJ and I visited the St. Louis Art Museum a little over a week ago and were delighted to see a few van Gogh works.

I love a good action figure and Jonathon, Aaron, and MJ know it. Vincent van Goghs’ work is captivating to me. I often wonder if he saw that which he painted in the surreal way he placed the subject on his canvas. We visited the Musee d’Orsay in Paris in 2012. There was a large room in the museum that was dedicated to Vincent exclusively. What a feast for the senses in seeing all those Works gathered in one place! It was extremely hot and very crowded with people…but the experience was to die for…as my buddy Ron often says.

The above paintings are from a visit to the St. Louis Art Museum in 2020. I recall the trepidation that we had at being out in public with our Pandemic still raging…and it is not over.

Action Figures spark my imagination. Art…especially over the past 25 years has been a great comfort to me and a singular enjoyment. Action Figures are a bit like little statues or little people. When I see them I wonder what they are preparing to do…or think…or their personality is. So…I suppose I have always been a fan of art…whether it be the little statues of Action Figures when I was a lad…or the Fine Art that mesmerizes my thoughts as an adult.

Storytelling is art. A good story comes from the author’s imagination being sparked by a simple idea. The ideas come from what surrounds the Storyteller. Faith is art. ‘Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen…’ We all love a good story. Stories keep us on the path of life…and point us toward tomorrow…

Art is life…

It is my Buddy Rons’ birthday today. MJ and I and Ira Kaye and Ron have traveled together on several occasions. Ron is my brother-in-law…but he is like a brother to me. We have been invited to Ron and Ira Kayes’ condo @ Miramar Beach many times over the past decade. They are experts in making me feel welcome. I have known my Buddy for over 44 years…and they have been fun. He is a stellar example of a man that is dedicated to and who loves his family in both word and deed.

Ron and I had a habit of enjoying different wine and cheese, while our better halves shopped, @ Wine World. On many occasions, we mutually solved the problems of the world and enjoyed doing so. If I feel draggy or less than inspired…Ron inspires me to live life to the fullest! He is one of the finest examples of how to live your life well.

Ron keeps me laughing and his good humor is contagious. Although he is a bit older than me…he causes me to want to reach out and grab the brass ring. This man has a kind heart. In all of the years that I have known him, I have never heard him argue or fuss or show a disagreeable temperament. Ron…like me…loves the Ocean. From Fish Frys and Homemade Ice Cream…to ensure that I have Baileys Irish Cream for my coffee…and Kettle One for my Dirty Martinis…he is a winner! I grew to love Florida…by seeing it through his eyes…

MJ and I are thinking of Ron on his birthday and wishing him all the best that life has to offer…and many more…

Since my almost 12 years of retirement began I can think of few lovelier locations to visit than the Ocean. We have had the kind privilege of joining our pals, Ron and Ira Kaye, on several occasions at Miramar Beach which has a terrific Ocean view and the sugar white sand of the Gulf Coast Beach. The placid perfection of the peaceful place is transformative. As I have sat…often for hours…and gazed at every morphing and majestic wave…I feel renewed and refreshed and want to write more stories.

‘I think that I could lay on this sandy beach and watch the Ocean for hours,’ Jane said. ‘Yes…the hypnotic effect of the sun on the water and its’ constant movement towards the shore is mesmerizing, Billy B. added. ‘I like to see the storm clouds over the water and wonder what they are bringing with them,’ Chet said with a smile. ‘Have you heard that the famous psychic Edgar Cayce loved to visit Miramar Beach and that he saw several visions regarding the future while he was on this same beach,’ Darryl asked the group. ‘I thought that I had read everything that is written about Cayce…and I do not recall anything about him visiting Miramar Beach,’ said Neva J. with a quizzical look on her kind face. ‘That is very true…but the information that Darryl is speaking of is held in a secret book of which I have one of the twelve copies,’ said The Wiz. Cayce believed that the Lost City of Atlantis rested on the Ocean bottom just a few miles from Miramar Beach,’ The Wiz said with a knowing smile. ‘I think that we should rent some scuba gear and a boat and visit the place where Edgar Cayce said Atlantis was and dive down to see if we can find it,’ Billy B. said with exuberance! ‘Let us go…and go quickly…an adventure is afoot,’ Neva J. laughed.

‘Zip me up,’ Jane said to Billy B. ‘My pleasure, my friend,’ said Billy B. with his wet suit already on. ‘Stop the boat,’ said The Wiz. ‘Is this the spot that Cayce referred to,’ Chet asked? Yes…and the natural marker for it is the red water that is over the top of it,’ noted The Wiz. ‘It seems a bit strange that there are no other boats or people to be seen…and the wind has shifted from the south to the north,’ Chet said. ‘The resting place for Atlantis is somewhat like the Bermuda Triangle in that you can not see it until it wants to be seen,’ advised Darryl. ‘The water is like a mirror…and smooth as glass,’ said Neva J.

‘Atlantis is alive and well,’ The Wiz proclaimed. ‘It is a myth that the City is lost or only the remnants of a once brilliant City…it is functioning as it always has…beneath our feet…at the bottom of the Ocean,’ The Wiz continued. ‘Each of you takes the person next to you…hand…and we will create a diving chain to the City…and it will only take a few seconds for us to arrive,’ The Wiz said with a hearty laugh.

‘That seemed like a second…and no more than two seconds,’ Chet bemused. ‘Really the diving gear was not necessary…but I did not want to frighten you…Atlantis is a special place,’ The Wiz said soothingly. ‘It is beautiful and it shines like diamonds,’ Jane observed. ‘Take off your diving helmets…there is oxygen enough for all,’ said Joe B. ‘We thought that you might like to see our little home…it has been written about so often…and by people who do not know who we are,’ Joe B. continued. ‘How is there oxygen at the bottom of the Ocean, asked Chet? ‘We are covered by an impenetrable dome,’ Joe B. answered.

‘How about another Fireball,’ Ron asked Billy B.? ‘You know this Fireball Drink is warming to the soul,’ Billy B. laughed as he quaffed another burning delight.

Right now it feels like 115 degrees outside. It is 95 degrees. I have been taking photos of my home for most of my life…Southern Illinois. I have noticed over this past week…when I am snapping my pictures…I do not see many people…other than those in their air-conditioned automobiles. I was in Cristopher, Illinois today and did see a group of kids on their bicycles not long before I departed. The vision of Southern Illinois University @ Carbondale was to be an international university that first reached out to coal mining towns of Little Egypt. Dr. Delyte Morris had the dream of building a world-class School in the farmland and rolling hills of the poorest and most economically deprived region of Illinois. Each of the little towns and villages that I visit has its’ own personality and customs and cohesiveness among its’ citizens. Much as a city such as St. Louis or Chicago have communities within the different blocks and locations in the city in which they live. Communities are wonderful and yet a bit like islands in the desert. There are, however, some similarities in the affections of my fellow Southern Illinoisans. For instance, I have photographed several huge clocks that are usually in a well-groomed and flowery rest area in the town. There are also not only all of the main-line old and lovely denominational churches…but many store-front churches that are apparently non-denominational or fundamentalist. In almost every town that I have visited there are a War Memorial and a stone carving that lists the members of the community that have died for their country.

Movie theatres are a particular passion of mine since my days of childhood in Eldorado and the Orpheum Theatre. It appears that most of the old movie palaces have fallen into disrepair or have been repurposed for other uses. I know that the Liberty Theatre in Murphysboro was showing a movie from time to time.

‘Let us go to the movie in Christopher…I hear that this weekend they are showing the original Dracula with Bella Lugosi,’ said Chet with a wicked grin. ‘Where is it in Christopher,’ asked Jane? ‘Well it is right up town and was built in the 1920s and is considered the most magnificent Theatre in Southen Illinois,’ Chet answered. ‘I love Christopher…I used to work at Hoe Supply when I was a teenager,’ said Neva J. with a wide smile. ‘Well it is settled then…we will go this Saturday,’ said Chet with a wink.

‘I think that the Christopher Theatre must be the most beautiful architecture for a Theatre in Southern Illinois,’ Neva J. mused. ‘Yes…and the air-conditioning is very nice too,’ Billy B. remarked as he snuggled into the plush red velour chairs in the massive auditorium. ‘Oh…yikes…I am always frightened when Dracula bites the neck of the pretty girls in his castle,’ Jane said with her hand over her eyes as she peeked through her fingers. ‘I just hope that it is a little cooler when we get out of this cool comfort…you know like the picture on the glass of the front door when we entered…the snowman blowing cold air on us as we walked into the emporium,’ Billy B. noted.

‘Goodness…Gracious…we have lost time…again…just look at the Theatre…,’ Chet smiled as he munched on another kernel of buttered popcorn.