Ten Lives

    An audio version of this post can be found at:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fFqdiPpktT0&feature=youtu.be


"Try it now," said Hank.
   I crossed my fingers and pushed the starter. The engine groaned and sputtered. "Nothing."
   "Okay, turn it off," said Hank.
   I turned off the key and pried myself out of the tiny cockpit. "Man, these things weren't built for tall people."
   Hank stood up and wiped his hands with an oily rag. "They weren't built to last either."
   Uncle Billy stood near the door of the old garage shaking his head, his face still reflecting the disappointment of seeing his new treasure in a state of dilapidation. "I can't believe we drove all the way to Minneapolis for this wreck."
   Hank tried to console him. "It's not so bad, Bill ... a little paint and some TLC ... it'll be fine."
   "It's a piece of junk," said Billy.
   I nodded slightly. "I thought his wife told you Bernie had restored it."
   "That's what she told me ... I guess what she meant was that he thought about restoring it."
   "Well, that's not entirely true, Bill," said Hank, "it's obviously been worked on ... it just wasn't finished."
   "It's finished, all right," said Billy.
   "No, I think Hank's right," I said, "there are several new parts on engine and the paint has been mostly stripped ... it's probably drivable."
   "Over a cliff, maybe
   "Hey, these things are classics," said Hank. "Do you know what a restored Jaguar XK120 is going for these days?"
   "The key word is restored," said Billy, "I doubt that this thing is worth the powder to blow it up."
   "Look, Uncle, we drove all the way here to pick up the car Bernie willed to you ... and we're going to bring it back with us."
   "I think you're more interested in this rolling junk pile than I am," said Billy.
   I flushed a little. "It is a classic, Uncle ... I think we can restore it ... if we can get it home."
   "That's a big if," said Hank. He leaned back over the engine and jiggled some wires. "Try it now."
   I squeezed back into the driver's seat and pressed the starter. The engine groaned and sputtered again, but this time a few spark plugs fired and it coughed to life.
   Hank stood back, a big smile on his face. "How about that," he said over the noise of the rasping engine.
   Uncle Billy moved closer and stared at the vibrating motor. I pried myself back out of the car and stood next to him.
   "You honestly think we could drive that thing back to Michigan?" he asked.
   "Well, it'll be a challenge, that's for sure."
   "Challenge?" he answered. "More like a quest."

Sweet Home Chicago

   An audio version of this post can be found at:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y2P_2-FmJk4&feature=youtu.be

  "That brunch was awesome," said Hank.
   I merged onto the expressway. "I told you you'd love it."
   Uncle Billy stared out the window. "It was okay ... we should have left this morning."
   "Relax, Bill," said Hank. "How often do you get to have breakfast at the House of Blues?"
   "Now we're behind schedule."
   "Don't worry, Uncle, we'll be in Minneapolis by evening." I sped up to pass around a slow moving truck. "We had to eat anyway ... how cool was it to have a full-on gospel group entertain you at the same time?"
   "My eggs were cold."
   "My food was great," said Hank.
   Billy turned to look at Hank in the back seat. "You'd eat road kill and think it was good."
   "Well, I liked it ... and the music was fantastic."
  "I would have rather seen a regular blues act."
  "Come on, Bill ... you have to admit ... they rocked that joint ... I saw your foot tapping."
  Billy turned back to look out of the windshield. "I said it was okay."
  I eased back into the right lane. "Well, I was blown away ... that was one of the most inspirational performances I've ever seen."
  "It moved me," said Hank, "and I don't usually go in for that kind of thing."
  "It makes a difference when you see it live," I said.
  Billy nodded. "Yeah, I remember the time I saw Buddy Guy at the House of Blues ..."
  Hank interrupted, "Wait ... you've been to the House of Blues before?"
  Billy swung around to look at Hank. "Of course ... many times."
  "I don't remember you mentioning the House of Blues before, Uncle."
  Billy turned back toward me. "I don't tell you everything, boy."
  "Yeah, but something like that? You know how much I like music ... I would've been interested."
  "When the hell did you see Buddy Guy?" asked Hank.
  Billy thought for minute. "I think it was 1991."
  "Uncle, the House of Blues didn't open in Chicago until 1996."
  "Well, maybe it wasn't at the House of Blues ..."
  "Wait a minute, Bill ... didn't you and what's her name ... go with Cal and me to see Buddy Guy at that bar in Detroit ... what was the name of that place ...?"
   Billy got silent.
   "That was it ... you, me, Cal, and that woman you were dating at the time ... what the heck was her name ... saw Buddy Guy at Baker's ... I remember it."
   "Step on it, boy ... I told Sarah we'd meet her for dinner tonight," said Billy.

Cat Lover

  An audio version of this post can be found at:
http://youtu.be/xcFek4b-VZU

 The waitress sidled up to the table. "Yes?"
   "Could I have a little more marinara sauce?" I asked.
   "Sure, hon." She wandered off.
   "So, let me get this straight ... Uncle Billy's cousin Bernie willed a car to him?" asked Cheryl.
   "Not just 'a' car ... a 1952 Jaguar XK one-twenty roadster." I poured a little more ground parmesan on my spaghetti.
   "And you're driving Uncle Billy to Minneapolis this weekend to pick it up?"
   "That's the plan."
   "But Billy doesn't drive ... how are you going to bring the car back?"
   "Hank is coming along ... he'll drive my car back and I'll drive Billy in his new Jag."
   "1952 isn't exactly new."
   "It is to him. He and Bernie used to dream about owning one when they were in the service together ... but Bernie did well enough to actually buy one and have it restored ... his wife called Billy last week and told him about it."
   "You mean about Bernie's passing?"
   "No, about the car. Bernie died over a month ago."
   "Didn't Billy want to go to the funeral?"
   "He didn't hear about Bernie's death until after the funeral. Another cousin ... Sarah, I think he said ... sent him an email wondering why he wasn't at the service."
   "What did he tell her?"
   "That was the first time he'd heard about it."
   "Really? No one told him his cousin had passed? I thought they were close."
   "Well, I guess he and Bernie had drifted apart ... he said he hadn't talked to him in over twenty years."
   "And Bernie left him a car?"
   "Evidently he specified that the Jag went to Billy in his will ... probably because he knew how much Billy wanted one."
   "What is he going to do with a car that he can't drive?"
   "Probably just look at it." I smiled at the thought of Uncle Billy standing in the parking lot of Back in the Day apartments, staring at the Jag. "No, seriously, he'll probably want to keep it in our garage and have me use it to take him around on his errands."
   Cheryl laughed. "Oh, now I get it ... you're the one who is excited by this deal."
   "I'd be lying if denied that."
 

Manhattan Project

An audio version of this post can be found at:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9D3mgX6V7M0&feature=youtu.be


 I slid my tray on the table and sat down. "So, how was New York," I asked.
   Clara smiled, "It was lovely ... we had the best time."
   "Sounds like you timed it right." I took the lid off my coffee to let it cool.
   "You mean because of Sandy?"
   "Yeah ... you and Alex might have gotten stuck there."
   She smiled again. "Hmmm, maybe that wouldn't have been so bad."
   "I hear conditions were just awful." I took a bite of my breakfast sandwich.
   Clara's face grew serious. "Yes ... those poor folks."
   I nodded as I chewed. Finally, I said, "They took a pounding, all right."
   She frowned. "Some of the stories I heard ... my heart just aches for them."
   "Yeah, me too." I looked out the window at the gray fall day. After a few seconds, I said, "So, what happened with the publisher ... did you meet with him?"
   Her face relaxed. "Oh, Alex's cousin, David Heath ... yes, I met him."
   "And?"
   "It was a very nice meeting. I learned a lot." Clara was suddenly acting a little coy.
   "Did he make you an offer?"
   She took a sip of her coffee, set the cup down and said, "Yes ... but I turned it down."
   I blinked in disbelief. "You ... you turned down his offer?"
   "I told you I learned a lot ... you have to remember, in spite of the success I've had so far, I'm still a new ... and very low ranking author."
   "What does that mean?"
   "It means I would get very little support from the publisher ... and very little royalty from sales."
   "He told you that?"
   "Not exactly in those words ... but I could put two and two together ... it wasn't really that attractive of an offer ... I think I can do better with the approach I'm taking."
   "As an independent?"
   "Yes."
   I shook my head slowly. "Boy, I don't know that I would have the courage to turn down an offer from a New York publisher ... but then, I'm not exactly lighting up the Internet with my book sales."
   Clara reached out and patted my hand. "It'll pick up ... just keep at it."
   "I'm trying ..."
   "By the way, I heard you missed an opportunity to sell some books with Eb and Irv Nesbaum."
   I flushed slightly. "You did?"
   "Yes ... William told me about it."
   "He did, eh?"
   "So, when are you going to start taking text messages?"
   I sighed. "You too, Clara?"

2 txt or not 2 txt?

An audio version of this post can be found at:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bC-dutiyy_M&feature=youtu.be


   Uncle Billy opened the door and let me in.
   "Everyone wondered where you were," I said. I sniffed the air. "What have you been cooking in here?"
   "Liver and onions. You want some?"
  "No ... thankfully, I already ate." I sat at the kitchen table.
   Billy grabbed two cans of beer out of the refrigerator. "You don't know what you're missing."
   "I'll take your word for it ... so why didn't you come to Reggies?"
   Billy sat across from me and slid one of the cans toward me. "I knew what was going to happen ... I couldn't stand watching the Tigers blow it."
   I opened my beer. "You didn't watch any of the games?"
   "I watched Verlander get shelled in the first one ... that was enough for me."
   "What if they had staged a miraculous come back?"
   Billy paused while he took a drink of his beer. Then he said, "I would have watched."
   "I mean, how would you have known?"
   He set the can down. "Somebody would've texted me."
   "Of course."
   "Oh ... I forgot ... you don't do that do you? When are you going to join the twenty-first century boyo?"
   "I don't know ... maybe I should ... evidently Irv Nesbaum tried to send me a text about a book signing sponsored by the chamber of commerce ... and I missed it."
   "I heard about that ... Eb said he sold seventy-two books."
   "I still don't know why Irv couldn't have called me." I took a sip of my beer.
   "How would he know that you're the only person on the planet who doesn't receive text messages?"
   I tapped the can in front of me. "I wonder why he didn't call to follow-up when he didn't get a response from me."
   "Do you think Irv has time to fool around with a phone call?"
   "How long does that take? Isn't it faster than writing out a message anyway? I mean, didn't they invent the telephone so people could actually talk to each other instead of writing letters and telegrams?"
   Billy pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it up for a visual aid. "What if you don't want to talk ... what if you just want to get a message out?"
   "Why wouldn't you want to talk?"
    He waved the phone at me. "You might busy and you just don't want to get engaged at that moment."
   "That's why everyone texts?"
   He set the phone on the table next his beer."Well, partly ... I suppose there are other reasons ... what difference does it make? You missed an opportunity to sell some books because you don't ... right?"
   "I can't deny that."
   "So are you going to start texting?"
   "I call and let you know."

Play Ball!

An audio version of this post can be found at: 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0dsmH8S9hxM&feature=youtu.be

  I looked around Reggie's Bar and Grill until I spotted Hank waving to me. I waved back and made my way toward him.
   "You made it," said Hank when I arrived at the table.
   "Yep." I starred at the pleasant looking woman who was sitting next him.
   "Oh, this Dorothy," said Hank, draping his arm around her chair. "Dorothy, this is Chris, Bill's nephew."
   She held out her hand to me. "Hello, Chris."
   I took her hand in mine and pumped it gently a couple of times. "Nice to meet you, Dorothy."
   Her face broke into a grin that caused plump cheeks to lift a pair of wire-rimmed glasses off her nose. "Please, call me Dottie ... everyone does."
   I let go of her hand. "Okay, Dottie it is."
   "Dottie is a big Tiger fan," said Hank.
   I sat down in a chair across the table from her. "Well, you've come to the right spot." I looked at Hank. "Where is everybody?"
   "I don't know." He looked at his watch. "We got here a little early, but ..."
   A pitcher of beer suddenly appeared in front of me. I looked up at Nancy, the ever-present waitress at Reggie's. "Hi, Nancy."
   "Hi, ya ... where's the rest of ya?"
   "I was just asking Hank the same thing."
   "They'll be along," said Hank. "No one wants to miss the opening ceremony of the World Series."
   "I'll get some more glasses," said Nancy. She turned and walked away.
   "So, Dottie, how long have you known Hank?" I asked.
   Hank answered for her. "Oh, we've know each other for ages. Dottie's my favorite cashier at VG's Market."
   "No kidding?" I said. "I'm not sure I've seen you there, Dottie."
   Hank continued to speak for her. "Oh, she doesn't work at the one you go to ... it's the one out on fifty-nine."
   I kept my gaze on Dottie. "So, how long have you worked there?"
   "Gee, I don't know," said Hank, "how long has it been, Dottie?"
   Dottie smiled, "I've been there eight years, Chris."
   Just then, Mary and Becky appeared at the table.
   "Hi, guys," said Hank. "Meet Dottie."
   "Hello, Dottie, I'm Becky." They shook hands briefly.
   Mary sat in a chair next to Dottie and introduced herself.
   Becky sat down next to me. "Hello, Chris."
   "Hi, Becky ... where's Eb?"
   "Oh, he's at book signing with Irv Nesbaum," she said. "He said he'd be here by the second or third inning."
   "A book signing with Irv?" I wondered aloud. "How'd that happen?"
   "Irv asked him to join him at an event sponsored by the Chamber of Commerce ... I guess they are acknowledging local authors."
   "No kidding?"
   Nancy came by and set a glass in front of her.
   "Thanks," said Becky. She continued to me,"I'm surprised you didn't know about it."
   "I hadn't heard a thing," I said.
   I could see her flush slightly and she turned her attention to the big screen on the wall. A beer ad was on. "They haven't thrown out the first pitch yet, have they?"
 

Applesauce

   "Clara's going to New York with Alex?"
   "Yeah ... better get in the left turn lane," said Billy.
   "I know where to turn, Uncle ... I've been taking you here for six years ... so what is this about?" I eased the car in the middle lane and flicked on the turn signal.
   "I need to get my lotto ticket and ... "
   "I know why we're going to Manny's ... why is Clara going to New York with Alex?"
   "Oh. She claims that Alex has a cousin in the publishing business and he's set up a meeting with him."
   I turned into Manny's parking lot. "Really? Alex has a cousin in the business?"
   "That's exactly what I said."
   "You think that something else is going on?"
   "You know, I was born at night ... but not last night."
   "So, what's your theory?"
   "Hello? Is your brain at home? Hey, there's a spot ..."
   "I see it." I turned down the row with the empty parking spot. "You think Alex is just taking her on a vacation to New York?"
   "Of course ... a cousin in the publishing business ... how lame is that?"
   I pulled into the open space. "I suppose it's possible ... besides, you don't have any room to talk ... you've gone to Branson with Alma Beeler."
   "That's different."
   I shut of the engine. "Oh? Exactly how is that different?"
   "I didn't pretend that I was going on business trip."
   "So, that make's it okay?"
   "Well, yes ... at least I was up front about it."
   "You told Clara you were going to Branson with Alma?"
   "No ... but I didn't tell her Alma had a cousin singing with the Oak Ridge Boys, either." Billy opened the door to get out. "You want a ticket?"
   I nodded.
   Billy held out his hand. "Well?"