Highlight of my day

Today I got to scrape a half-eaten pigeon carcass off the fence in our back yard.

It was actually kind of a freaky sight. One does not expect to see such a thing draped over the top of a fence. We have a gopher problem, but couldn't imagine a gopher taking down a pigeon let alone drag it up a wooden fence.

Feral cats and raccoons use our back yard as a route to the apple tree in the neighbor's yard. Again it seemed likely that either would leave their prey in such a manner.

A quick internet search revealed that it was probably either an owl or a hawk. Both like to devour their victims on fence tops. The weird thing is that my parents on the other side of the country witnessed this very thing outside their window. A hawk in the process of killing a pigeon landed on their chainlink fence but it could get solid footing so it took with it's kill.
So I've never heard of hawks eating pigeons on fences and now it's happened to my parents and me, 3000 miles apart, both in the same month. Weird.

100 words - Norman

Two weeks after Norman flunked out of college he came to the realization that he would never be a mechanical engineer. He went to the pawn shop and bought an electric guitar. He spent the next year locked in his parent's attic learning how to play it. When he emerged back into the world he had long hair and a long scraggly beard but he kept on wearing the bow ties. That would be his hook throughout his music career. He would be famous as the rock-and-roller who wore the bow ties. It might have worked if was any good.

100 Words - Empty Shelves

Logan bought the last Pepsi. He drank it straight down right there in front of everyone. Didn't share a drop. There was some talk of beating him to a pulp but the crowd was more sad than angry so Logan was able to walk away unharmed.

Larry surveyed his nearly empty shelves. He sat down by the big picture window and stared out across the plain, hoping once again that a delivery truck would appear with fresh supplies, or maybe even a car with some news. No radio. No TV. No deliveries. No traffic. What was going on out there?

NOSTALGIA AND REGRETS

I regret nothing I did and only a quarter of what I didn't.

I was a traitor to the immortality of youth.

I failed to comprehend the true pathos of sex.

I drove too fast in cars alone.

I learned to dance too young and forgot how till I was too old.

I rebelled against the wrong people.

I drank puzzling beers on rainy days while women waited somewhere.

I never found out where.

100 Word - Problem reality

The problem with reality is that nobody lets you get away with delivering soliloquies. The brilliant speeches composed under bed covers never see the light of day. Just try it sometime. Odds are you'll be tased before you get to the climax. Bar patrons just aren't that interested in your well-argued ruminations on the plight of man. They don't see that you are there to give them the answers they seek. People think that they're looking for answers but most of them just want to ask the questions. It gives them the illusion of seeking without the responsibility of knowing.

100 Words - Lego Life

Life's experiences are like Lego blocks. The longer you live and the more you do the more blocks you collect. Some people wind up with enough pieces to build elaborate castles, others so few that they can build nothing beyond a small brick wall. Then there's me. After half a century I have lots of pieces but they are those weird little pieces that come with the specialty building sets that don't translate well to other purposes. Pretty much everything I build looks like what they thought space ships would look like in the eighteen-hundreds, but occasionally they're race cars.

Review: THE SOUND OF MURDER by Rex Stout

This is one of those rare non-Nero Wolfe mysteries. It is the one and only appearance of Alphabet Hicks. After reading the book you'll know why this was the only one. Despite it's many flaws it got me to thinking about Stout's creative process.

The premise relies on whether or not a voice on a recording is proof or not. What I believe posed a problem for Stout was that Nero Wolfe would have dismissed the evidence without even needing to listen to it. The other problem was that the villain in the story would have been spotted by Archie almost immediately as the square peg in the round society of the rich folks, despite the distraction of the lovely damsel in distress.

Stout needed a new detective. Someone who existed outside New York's elite society. Someone intelligent but inexperienced at detective work. So he created Hicks. So far, so good. Hicks is a nice start on a character though not as sympathetic or endearing as Stout's other creations.

The problem comes not from the characters, but from their presentation to us. Stout seems uncomfortable with the omniscient point-of-view and commits the crime of omission in several places. Archie as narrator is a much more satisfying experience.

While the book is a must-read for Stout fans, if this was your first Stout book it would not encourage you to read more of his works. Which would be unfortunate.