​The Last Chit–Chat
 
Hello, hon. You look good. New dress?
“No, dear. It’s the same old one that I’ve had for ten years, but thanks anyway. Are you comfortable?”
Yes. The pain is gone. Is this my suit? I don’t recognize it.
“No. You didn’t have any nice suits. The funeral home provided this one for you.”
That’s nice. So, who all came?
“All our children and grandchildren are here. One of your brothers made it. My sister came.”
Are you going to be okay? What will you do?
“I’ll be all right. I think I’ve move to one of those senior living apartments. The house is too much for me now.”
That’s nice. You’ll enjoy that.
“Mom, what are you doing? Everyone is here and they’re ready to start the funeral. There’s a seat for you in the first pew.”
“Oh, hi dear. I’m just having one more chit chat with your father. Once they bury him, I won’t be able to talk with him.”
“You can always talk with him, mom.”
“I mean face to face. I think that’s what I’ll miss the most – just seeing his face and chit chatting.”
“He always was a handsome man. Are you okay?”
“I’ll be okay if I can just get through this day. You go ahead. I’ll just be a minute.”
“Okay. We need to start.”
“I’d better go, dear. They want to start the funeral.”
Goodbye, hon. I’ll see you on the other side. Love you.
“Save me a place. I’ll be along shortly. Love you too, dear.”
 
Http://www.monteranderson-author.com

As I approach the certainty of my death, as certain as April 15 is tax-day, I have become concerned about my legacy, not unlike President Trump. I am not concerned about what I have accomplished; that is on the history books, such that it is. My concern is what my children will find among my stuff when they must clean up the mess I leave behind. I would like to take it with me, but I can't. With an eye to my legacy, I began to straighten up my stuff. I have already thrown out anything I do not want them to find in the house: my extensive collection of Playboy magazines, my file of angry letters to the editors of various newspapers, and my little black book of women I have dated.

What worries me the most is what they may find on my computer. I have taken care to delete everything I do not want them to find. Once again, any pornography, nasty e-mails, my Google search history and dumb jokes from my old Army buddies. I think I have deleted anything that might be objectionable to my family. Whatever remains is politically correct. What I am working on now is what I want them to find--my digital legacy.

I have downloaded every e-book I can find on quantum physics, astronomy, and Chinese. I have inserted little comments in the margins that agree with or dispute certain points. On the Chinese book, I have highlighted passages throughout the book. I have written e-mails to famous people like ex-President Obama, Stephen Hawkins and President Biden. More importantly, I have written their replies. Never mind that they never received the e-mail and never wrote me back. My children do not need to know that. In their replies, these celebrities agree with my comments and encourage me to continue my efforts.

I have created a file of certificates and awards from numerous agencies; Windows has many templates. These include awards from the CIA and FBI for the undercover work that I have done. All the astronauts signed one award. Another award is from the CDC for finding a cure for a rare disease to be named later.
​
Now that I have started this effort, I have to continue every day. My premature death must interrupt some project of monumental importance or at least seem so. I want to make my kids proud.

The weather has been crazy this year (and last). Seems like storm after storm blows through the northeast. We live in New York. With a nod to #JohnnyCarson, I have to say that it is cold here in #NewYork. How cold is it, you ask? It is so cold that:
1. I had a thought, and it froze.
2. My farts fall to the floor, roll around and crack open.
3. My dogs refuse to go outside without coats and boots.
4. When the forecast is for 5 degrees above zero, I look forward to the warmer weather.
5. I tried to spit and injured a bystander.
6. When I blink, my eyelashes freeze together.
7. I thought perhaps the White Soxs won the world series since hell must have frozen over.
8. I started a heated argument with my wife just to get warm.
9. I saw a Yeti driving a snowplow.
10. I'm using icicles in my drinks.
​Perhaps you have some similar experiences to share.

I post this story every year for #Valentine’s Day. I’m sorry if you have read it. I like it because it’s 80% true, only the names have been changes to protect me, I mean the innocent.

A #Zombie’s Valentine’s Day—A Short Short Story
 
I hate holidays. Not the ones with a three-day weekend, just the ones invented by greeting card companies. One year I forgot Valentine’s Day until the day it arrived. Usually, I order flowers online for my wife. After all, she is the mother of two of our beautiful children, and a third not so beautiful child. In desperation, I drove to the nearest box store.

The scene at the flower department was a disaster; flowers flung everywhere; stems bent, leaves torn and flowers missing petals. I searched desperately for a gift: a small bouquet, a potted plant, or even a single rose. Nothing.

Several other men in my predicament also searched in vain like zombies from the Night of the Living Dead. At some point, I bumped into the department manager. Her hair was in disarray, her blouse wrinkled and stained, and she wore no shoes. I asked if I could get a corsage. She gave me an exasperated look and shook her head.

I decided to use my well-developed technique that seems to help in desperate situations; I began to cry. She took pity on me, put my head on her shoulder, and patted my back. “Perhaps,” she said. “They can make you one in the back.” As I shuffled in the direction she pointed, I heard her shout, “Dead man walking!”

When I arrived at the rear of the store, the scene wasn’t much better. I saw two women making corsages as fast as possible. Both had Band-Aids on every finger. The trash was full of flowers ruined by blood from pricked fingers. As fast as one was made, they put it into a petite white box. When I asked if I could buy one, both women immediately stopped working, and looked at me as though I was the person in the elevator who farted. I was in trouble. The bigger of the two leaned forward.
“Do you realize how many local high schools have Valentine’s Day dances tonight?” I did not.
Pointing to the stacks of white cardboard boxes, she said, “We still have to make 150 more corsages, and have them ready for pick up in one hour.” I fell back on my proven technique and began to cry; my lower lip quivered, and tears collected in the corners of my eyes. She softened. “Oh God, not another cry baby!” she shouted. “Okay! Okay! You can have one.”

I returned home carrying the corsage like a cat with a prize bird and presented it to my wife. She looked surprised and uttered those words that every man loves to hear. “You remembered!”
​
THE END

​Extreme and Impractical Ways to Avoid Covid-19
 
Covid-19 is still with us although infections are declining, but deaths are not. It might be time to consider more extreme methods to avoid the flu bug. Here are my recommendations on how to avoid becoming a victim of Covid-19:
 

• Wear a mask. Scarfs aren’t masks. Make sure to cover your nose, mouth and chin. Better yet, cover your eyes so you don’t see the virus coming.

 

• Wear gloves. It’s winter now so wearing gloves should be second nature.

 

• Cover your mouth and nose when you cough or sneeze. This is another preventive method I know you already know. Don’t use your hand or you will have the virus on your hands. This is another time that the gloves come in handy. I know you’ve seen people sneeze or cough in their elbow. If you have trouble reaching your elbow, use someone else’s elbow. Coughing into your knee is better, if you can pull it off.

 

• Wash your hands. Soap and water can only go so far. Using alcohol-based hand sanitizer is better, but you might not have that available. In a pinch, try sticking your hands in a fire or place them on the stove. If you can microwave your hands – even better. Ultraviolet light can kill the flu virus. Therefore, get plenty of sunshine or go to a sun tanning salon. Sandblasting also works.

 

• Avoid shaking hands, hugging or kissing. If you still must touch, as in the case of significant other or family, try the popular chest bump. If that isn’t your style, then use the hip bump or the butt bump. A technique that is gaining popularity is the elbow touch—just the outer side. Avoid the Eskimos nose kiss. Whatever works.

 

• Avoid people, especially people who are sick. Well, duh! If you must leave home, then avoid people – all people. That will eliminate the problem of shaking hands, hugging and kissing. You must also avoid birds, swine and Russians.

 
Please stay healthy this year and get a vaccine shot and boosters.

The following is another excerpt from my work in progress, Jen McDowell—Private Eye; Business is Booming, a Jen McDowell Series. I think this will be the last chapter. If you want to catch up, order the novella The Throuple Private Eye—Hate Crimes, on Amazon ($2.99). The link is https://www.amazon.com/dp/B084LTTHGN. Enjoy.
 
The Case of the Good Priest (Cont’d)

“Father, we don’t know if he is involved or not, but clearly Mr. Lamont would like to be replace by his nephew. What would you like us to do?”

“I don’t know. Let me think about and get back to you. Don’t do anything just yet.”

Jen and Molly agreed to wait for Fr. Traylor to get back to them.

The next day...

Fr. Traylor called Jen and ask her and Molly to return to the rectory for lunch. After a light lunch, Fr. Traylor said, “I have an announcement to make. I have solved the problem about Berry Lamont. I have volunteered for the Baptist Missionary Services.”

Jen and Molly were stunned. “What does that mean, Father?” Jen asked.

“That means I will leave Atlanta and go to Santiago, in the Dominican Republic. First, I need to go to Mexico for a few weeks to refresh my Spanish. It’s a Spanish language immersion program. I haven’t really spoken Spanish much since high school, but I used to be pretty good at it. I have to be there in three weeks.”

“Are you sure about this, Father?” Molly asked.

“Yes. I have always wanted to be a missionary. Now I have a chance. I already notified Mr. Lamont. My leaving will create a vacancy for Berry. I think it’s a win-win situation.”
​
(To be cont’d)