July 5, 2009

           Today’s photo is titled “Memories of Florida. We know repair crews cannot be everywhere at once, but Florida proves they can be nowhere at all. This is the famous Dixie Highway, or at least it used to be. I passed up a couple of invitations, some of which would have meant really excellent food. Naw, I preferred a quiet day and am now up to lesson eight with the German. I can ask any woman where or when she wants to eat or drink, as long as it is now or later on Goethestrasse.
           The "mystery guy" must have been in Jimbos. He's called that because he donates his old mystery paperbacks to the club. That nickname shows a shortcoming of English, where one might think the guy is a mystery.
           Nope, he just brings in old books and some of them are the mini-mysteries I like. Often edited by Ellery Queen, these collections can keep me contented for long stretches. I’ve read so many, I can’t recommend or remember any. My favorite this time is about a failed actor. He meets two twin sisters who are quite different other than looks.
           Mary is lively; Agnes more bookish with her hair tied back in a bun “the size of a teapot”. He goes to church on Sundays, but only for his image, where both sisters fall in love with him. He prefers the lively one, causing a rift to the point the two sisters won’t speak to each other. Mary quits going to church and attends his performances, Agnes does the opposite. Finally, Mary can’t take it any more and says the actor should marry her, to which he agrees.

           But I cannot recall the name of the book!
           The day before the wedding, Agnes breaks her ankle, but refuses to be taken home. When taken so anyway, they find Mary has been in the basement, dead for five weeks. Fascinating, because it is the type of short story I could easily write if a market could be found. These are “old-timey” novelettes and such, which remind one of 1930s detective movies. You know, where identical twins, total amnesia, secret corridors, and unmarried widows were far more commonplace. But they are predictable because the police always win. I’m thinking.
           Carlos, Wallace and I stayed home and watched a Robyn Williams movie “Jumanji”, a rather worn out theme but with great special effects. Between the lengthy commercials on AMC, I was able to program most of the drum sequences for Eddie’s music, plus some generic beats for anything else we are likely to play. This is the old Alesis machine, which is very difficult to program. The drum track is layered, but you can only see one layer at a time. The operator’s manual also sucks.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Return Home
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++