Of course I can’t remember when I was just an idea in the creative brain of my author. I’m fairly certain that I am far from the first book thought that was had, but I’m grateful for the creation and pursuit.
In fact, my first memory was when I was about fifty-five pages old and my protagonist had just been taken into custody by the police.
I had to keep reminding myself that I was FICTION and not to worry because there were probably hundreds of more pages to go to straighten everything out.
But I DO have story friends that didn’t have hundreds of pages and wound up bound along with others of their kind into a book of many short stories. But I digress.
I’m going to let you in on a secret here, I really wasn’t fond of my main character during those early pages but I’m just the book and have no control over the story that I am forced to tell.
I must also interject here. There are good authors and some not so good authors and we books can’t choose our creators but I am fortunate because I was lucky to have been given a good one.
When I was about ninety-seven pages long it seemed like ages before I turned the page onto ninety-eight. But I found out later that it is not uncommon to go through that as a young book and I went through those sort of stages many times until I was finished.
As I added pages I also added many literary characters and plots and subplots and I actually got quite confused myself as to who I actually was and where I was headed.

Just between us, I had a bit of wavering faith in my author many times but always was happy that at least I was not one of those SciFi books. They never seemed quite right to me even though there are a few near me on this bookshelf so I shouldn’t make too much of it here.
Things were going along smoothly until page two hundred and
Seven, Chapter ten.
My hero, main character, protagonist… died! My author
“Killed Him Off!” I was not ready for that, I must tell you.
Of course, I found out why my author did that and it made sense to me by the end.
And by the way “The End” is just the beginning for a book. I mean it is actually when you graduate and go out into the world to entertain the readers that will hold you and caress you and yes, also sometimes dog ear you or spill coffee on your pages or worst of all, make notes in your margins!

Which brings me to the modern challenge of E-Books. Well, I don’t mean to sound aloof but does anyone really think that holding an electronic device is really preferable to a hardbound book with its tactile luxury and even library aroma?
The jury is still out on that I guess, and I am a bit one sided on that thinking.
But the reason I asked you to listen to my story today, other than making my case for traditional printed and bound books is that I am so proud.
I am announcing today that have a new just-born, ah, first printing I should say…SEQUEL!
I’m saving a place on my bookshelf for it right next to me.
So in the meantime, keep reading and going to bookstores and library’s and enjoy real books and stories just like mine!

“Get the belt…I’m fallin’ down!” said the pair of trousers known as “Smarty Pants”
“Ok…OK…hold your shirt on…I’m gettin’ it!” Billy Smith was getting dressed to go out and play on a Saturday morning and he was trying to reach the hook holding his brown belt while holding up his pants, but had to let go to reach that far.
“Whoa! I told ya…umph!!!” Smarty was now crumpled around little Billy’s ankles and as Billy tried to take a step over to fetch his belt he fell flat on his face!
“See…if you would just do what I told you, this never would have happened!” scolded Smarty.
So Billy Smith, sitting on his bedroom floor threaded his new brown belt through the belt loops and pulled the trousers up as he stood…”There!”
“Too tight….ugh….that’s way too tight….you’re strangling me….use the next hole for that buckle!” Smarty was now struggling to even speak…being “choked” by the new belt.
“Ah…how about being quiet for once or….or…I’ll tighten it up even farther!” Little Billy was beginning to lose his temper a bit.
But, being the very kind boy that he was, Billy loosened the belt and Smarty breathed a sigh of relief but was still “panting” from the lack of oxygen.
Then as Billy opened up his shirt drawer the brown buttondown yelled…”HEY…pick me Billy buddy!”
Then the blue knit shirt screamed…”No…me….you picked brownie b.d. just last Tuesday…it’s my turn.”
Billy said…”OK…you are both so selfish I’m not gonna pick either one of you!”… and he chose a plain quiet white T shirt from the bottom of the pile.
Then Billy heard a commotion coming from the bottom drawer and when he opened it, all the socks were jumping around pointing their toes at him and waving their tops wildly…”Me…..no ME…..hey ….me!!!…”
Billy shut the drawer….took off his shirt, pulled off his belt and removed his pants and went back to bed!

Kate and Shirley
Were feminine and girly
And it seemed they always agreed
Well, except for their hair
They didn’t agree there
They had different opinions indeed!

Shirley’s was curly
And Kate’s was straight
‘Though they both were pretty brunettes
Each had hair like their Mother’s
But they wanted each other’s
As opposite as it ever gets

So Kate got up early
To make her hair curly
It took hours to make it so
Each night Shirley’s up late
Making her hair straight
The process was very slow

Then it all changed
Things got rearranged
When they started dating boys
It all started with Kate’s
Redheaded boyfriend Nate
Then Shirley began making noise

Now Kate gets up later
‘Cause Nate likes her hair straighter
And she’s not at all tired anymore
And Shirley goes to bed early
Her blond boyfriend likes curly
And she’s getting more rest than before

Now the two girls agree
It is better to be
Whoever you naturally are
But then Shirley said
“I’d like my hair red
I would be happier by far”

Kate quite agreed
“And I think that I need
To stop being a boring brunette
I don’t want to deceive
But I must achieve
The blondest hair I can get!”

Both their parents said “Girls
We don’t care, straight or curls
When you dyed it we weren’t even appalled
But we’re begging you
Whatever you do
Please never date anyone bald!”

His name is Alouishious Watson. His friends call him Al. That is if “AL” had any friends. And therein lies the problem. Alouishious had NO friends. Not one! Nada. Zip point ZERO! Well, you get the idea…NONE!
In fact, Al didn’t even have any non friends, or even enemies. Not having enemies is a good thing that we all should strive to achieve, but there were those lonely days when Al would go to the local sandlot with a bat, ball and glove and couldn’t find a single kid to play ball or even have just a catch with him.
Alouishious had seen the movie “Field Of Dreams” where it said “…if you build it they will come” and he always hoped that kids would magically show up and play with him. That never worked.
Then Al had an idea. “I’ll just make up, pretend, create my own friends in my mind and then I can have my “imaginary” friends to play with any time I wish.”
So that afternoon in the quiet of his room he conjured up his first friend…JOE!
Joe was a lot like Al and loved all the things that Al loved. Baseball, sports cars, computer games, and Joe disliked all the things that Al didn’t like also, such as baths, homework and being punished for breaking stuff.
Then one day Joe suggested that he and Al add another friend or two to their “Boys Only Club” and after lengthy discussion Al and Joe invited Ken and Mike to join.
Now Ken was a great ballplayer and wanted to play for the Orioles when he grew up and Mike was a wiz at math and wanted to be a scientist when he became an adult.
Over the course of the next few weeks, Ken taught Al how to play better baseball and Mike helped him with math so that his homework was lots easier.
Joe encouraged Al all along the way and kept telling Al…”Way to go”…”That’s great”….and “You’re doing a terrific job.”
Alouishious was quickly a changed young boy. He was better at almost everything and hadn’t even been punished for breaking stuff in weeks.
Then, on a sunny afternoon in summer Al went to the sandlot and there were a few kids there playing ball. Seeing Al with his ball, bat and glove, the biggest kid yelled…”Hey Al…wanna play?”
“I sure do!” Al yelled back and went out into the outfield with his glove.
After the game, as it was getting dark, the other boys introduced themselves to their new friend…”I’m Mike…I’m Joe… and he’s Ken and hey Al, you’re a pretty good ballplayer! See ya tomorrow.”

So you figure out the moral to this story. But whatever you decide, having friends is important, but so is BEING a friend!

Billy’s grandfather liked to tell Billy about “The Good Old Days” when life was simple, less expensive and lots more fun.
It was hard for Billy to really understand everything that his “Papa” told him and sometimes Billy wondered if indeed all of Papa’s stories were really how things were.
After all, Billy and his Mom and Dad lived in the same small town where Papa grew up fifty years ago and Billy knew that some of the same buildings were still there because they had dates carved into some of their cornerstones.
Sometimes Papa would show Billy old yellowed black and white pictures of their town and a few of them featured items and places that Billy recognized.
One afternoon near the end of summer vacation Billy was walking down South Street just off Main when he walked by a store front that was always empty with an old “For Rent” sign in the corner of the window. But today the windows were not dingy and dusty but were clean and shiny and in fact the front wooden and glass door was wide open.
Billy looked inside and there was a marble counter with round stools and a large glass case with lots of jars and colorful boxes lined up side by side.
“C’mon in…Billy…isn’t it?”
“Ah….yes….Sir….but…?”
“Billy Jones…ah yes…Edward’s grandson….you’re a fine looking lad!”
Billy was still standing in the doorway, leaning and peering into the store and wondering about the gray haired man with the wire rim glasses that seemed to know exactly who Billy was. The man had on a cream colored apron and was holding a damp rag in his hand.
“Just cleaning up the fountain a bit…could I make you a Lemon Phosphate or an Ammonia Coke. No…you wouldn’t know about those would you….how about a hot fudge Sundae with wet nuts and whipped cream and of course a Maraschino cherry on top?”
“Ah…..” was all that Billy could manage.
“We’ve got a great assortment of penny candy too Billy. Mary Janes and Squirrel Nuts and Kits and wax lips….and well….if you don’t have the money today you can pay me next time you’re in the store. By the way how is your Papa Edward?”
“Ah…he’s fine….ah….Sir…..he……”
“So what’ll it be Billy? Here sit down at the fountain and I’ll whip you up something special…say a banana split!”
“Ah….” Billy was saying “Ah” a lot and figured he’d better find out what was really going on.
“Did you just open up here….Mister…..?”
“Henry Jenkins…. but you can just call me Jenks….everyone does. Heck I opened this place in the early fifties when your Papa was in grade school. Yep been here a long time!”
“But I’ve never….I mean I walk by here lots and I never saw..”
Billy was very bewildered.
Jenks was just squirting the last puff of whipped cream onto the banana split and slid it across the white marble counter toward Billy.
“Here…you’ll need this too!” Jenks handed Billy a long spoon and two paper napkins. As Billy tasted the boat shaped dessert Jenks rattled and snapped a small brown paper bag and leaned into the penny candy case and plucked out about a dozen assorted candies and dropped them into the bag.
It didn’t take Billy long to finish the Banana Split and scoop the last melted ice cream out of the bottom of the stainless steel dish.
“That was good….Jenks!”
“You betcha….best in town!”
Jenks folded the top of the bag together and handed it to Billy. Pay me next time you come by and don’t forget to remember me to your Papa!”
Billy said…”Thank you Jenks…I’ll see you soon.”
“Take care now son!”
As Billy crossed over the threshold of the store he turned to wave so long to his new friend Jenks. But the door was closed and the widows dingy and dirty with a “For Rent” sign in the corner of the window.
“What?” said Billy out loud and a woman who was passing by turned and stared at Billy and then hurried along and glanced back at him as she went.
Billy went to scratch his head when he realized that he still had a small brown paper bag in his hand…full of penny candy!

Is there really a guy named Jack Frost?
Whose job it is to crisscross
The northern states all
At the end of the fall
Making sure that summer is lost

I can see that he’s been around
In the morning I look on the ground
If there’s lots of white
He came by last night
But who knows where he can be found?

I don’t really believe in him
I think it’s just somebody’s whim
I mean where does he go?
Is the next guy Jack Snow?
His existence seems rather dim

Mom says it’s just an old tale
That he coats every hill and each dale
But I’d ensure early spring
When Jack Thaw does his thing
I’d put that Jack Frost in jail!

As the shells were cracking
The space grew lacking
We wanted to spread our new wings
It was hard to rest
In that tight little nest
Me and my four new sib-lings

After weeks of just sitting
Mom was off flitting
We waited with some sense of dread
Our mouths were held open
We’re always hopin’
We’d be the first to be fed

The grubs kept a comin’
Our Mom sure was somethin’
She could find food with the best
But as we grew older
My siblings grew bolder
There was less food and no rest

The eating’s not easy
Worms make me queasy
But you must never be meek
So I do my best
To live in a nest
Where I am just the fifth beak

I ‘d like a menu more varied
But when she got married
Mom’s motherly instinct took hold
And while I am peeping
It’s bugs I’ll be eating
But this food routine’s gettin’ old

The day came for flyin’
My siblings were crying
But I was up for the dare
Mom took me to the ledge
I looked over the edge
And said” Man that’s a long way down there”

“Go ahead try
I know you can fly
We’re birds…that’s what we do”
“I’m not scared of flight
I’m afraid of the height…
I’ll just wait over here ’til they’re through”

“Trust me you’ll like it”…
“I think I’ll just hike it
I’m hoping on hopping through life”
“You’ve just got to fly
And I’ll show you why
Just watch as I soar with no strife”

Mom flew through the air
Without any care
She circled about in the sky
I watched her in awe
And though I just saw
I just couldn’t, and wouldn’t, dare try

“I can’t see the ground
I might go straight down!
And I bet if I crashed you would cry”
“Oh sure you can do it
Put wings and mind to it
And you’ll soon fly well as I”

“Just flap your wings
God gave you those things
So we birds could look down on the rest”
I flapped ’round a bit
But then I just quit
“I… think I’ll… look down from this nest!”

Then Dad came along
Just finished his song
And Mom whispered and pointed to me
“It’s time to go son
You’re the last one
And we’ve other places to be”

He nudged my behind
And though I declined
It was over the edge I did fling
I peeked at the ground
Getting closer I found
So I panicked and flapped both my wings

Well wonder of wonders
The air that rushed under
Was lifting and turning me round
I moved this and that
Flapped like a bat
And soared up above that hard ground

I could go over there
I could go anywhere
Mom’s right, I could fly like a bird
“Look what he’s done
Aren’t you proud of our son?”
But ’twas I who had final word!

“Wow!” I extolled
As I flew barrel rolls
And waved my wings to the rest
“That’s no place for me
I’ve got places to see”
I bid happy goodbye to the nest

“Pre flight check…..flaps?”
“Down sir!”
“Altimeter?”
“Set”
“Cabin pressure?”
“Steady sir.”
“Brake?”
“…Releasing sir…”
“Tower…..this is American Heavy 266 ready for takeoff.”
“Roger 266…cleared for takeoff on runway R14!”
“Power…to taxi 4600 RPM.”
“Right sir 4600”
“This is your Captain speaking…we’re cleared for takeoff…we’ll be in the air shortly….enjoy your flight.”
“Brake and hold at 7000 RPM.”
“Roger that Captain…..holding.”
“Final check!”
“All systems at go sir!”
“Release brakes and power up…let’s go to Chicago!”
“Roger Captain….rolling at 70……90…….110……V1… Captain looking good…..approaching V2…..we’re at V2 Captain…”
“Rotation….Full power….throttles all the way….no turning back now!”
“CAPTAIN….wait…we’ve lost power in the port…NO…BOTH ENGINES… Starboard too….ABORT….ABORT!!!!”
“Too Late….It’s TOO LATE!!!!”
“What was that?”
“What?”
“That noise?”
“Timmy….Tommy….LUNCH!!!!”
“Ah….OK Mom…we’ll be right there!”
“Man I’m hungry!!”
“Me too Captain …let’s go eat!!

“Here Nosy….sniff!”
Judson was holding his brother’s, shall we say, “soiled” sweatshirt in front of his new bloodhound puppy’s nose.
Nosy sniffed and sniffed and then barked a very immature sounding bark that would eventually mature into a deep loud one.
Nosy perked up his ears and looked around, then put his amazing nose to the ground and in a crooked, twisting path, sniffed his way to the laundry room and the laundry basket!
Even though none of Judson’s brother’s clothing was actually IN the basket that was “sniffed out” by Nosy, the tracking was deemed a victory.
On subsequent sniffing and tracking tests, Nosy however, was less successful. While attempting to sniff out a previously hidden used sock, Nosy “found” an unhidden plate of dark meat turkey that Judson’s Mom had placed on the table for lunch. Nosy never did find the sock.
On another occasion, Nosy found an opened box of chocolate covered cherries instead of Judson’s Dad’s baseball cap and was a very sick bloodhound puppy all afternoon.
After a trip to the local Veterinarian and a testing of Nostradamus’ olfactory glands (his “smeller”) it was theorized that possibly Nosy was not “all” bloodhound but “could” have a bit of Beagle on his family tree. Not a bad thing, but not bloodhound.
“He may develop a better sense of smell later as he matures, but I wouldn’t count on it!” the Doctor sighed after the exam and test.
Judson was a bit disappointed at the news but vowed to keep “training” Nosy’s scent tracking abilities.
As Nosy grew older and larger, his percentage of “finds” as Judson called them, grew to about 10%.
There were also some unscientific successes which, although Judson considered a “find” his parents did not for the simple reason that food was always involved.
But one morning, a bright sunny day in August, the doorbell rang and when Judson’s Mom opened the door, a policeman was standing there with a torn piece of cloth in his gloved hand.
“M’am, I’m Sargent Cole of the local police department and we are on the lookout for an alleged thief that apparently tore an article of clothing, looks like a piece of shirt, during a small robbery and we were told that you own a bloodhound. Is that true?”
“Ah…why yes we do but you see…”
“GREAT! Can we borrow your dog to possibly track the alleged criminal?”
Judson’s Mom looked at Judson and at Nosy who was wagging his entire body and they both looked so excited that she just replied “Okay!”
Well, to make a longer story shorter, Nosy tracked down the culprit hiding behind a holly bush over in the woods and the Police Department awarded Nosy a special ribbon for “Excellence In Police Work”.
After that, Nosy still wasn’t very successful tracking clothing objects from the family but, even though no one close to Nosy ever said anything to each other, they all felt that it was very lucky that among the stolen items that were taken by the sniffed out crook, was a large box of chocolate covered cherries!

The day started out real nice
I was happy fresh and new
Brightly colored on my shell
That boiling thing was through

I was resting in a basket
With other eggs so fancy
We were placed there very carefully
By our 8 year old named Nancy

We jiggled ’round as we took a ride
To the grassy park in town
Then we each in turn were gently placed
And hidden on the ground

It was very hard to see beyond
Those real high blades of grass
But I felt very comfortable
As the time did pass

Then I heard the squealing children
Getting closer to my place
I saw as some went by me
I even saw their face

But they all passed and let me be
Maybe I’m too small
I have no arms to part the grass
No feet to help stand tall

Then the noises became distant
And soon no more were heard
“Hey anyone… Please find me!”
But I couldn’t speak a word

There was nothing I could do
To make myself be seen
And although I was brightly dyed
I was hidden by grass green

The sun went down and it got cold
And it was growing dark
The happy kids had long since gone
And left me in the park

All the other eggs were warm and safe
And happy they were found I bet
They were comfortable in their new homes
Being treated like a pet

But as I fought to stay upbeat
And pretend I’m in my bed
I spied a pair of familiar feet
“There you are!” my Nancy said

She picked me up and rescued me
She warmed me with her hand
She carried me back home with her
And put me on a stand

“I’m so glad that you weren’t found”
As she smiled and looked at me
‘Cause you’re my favorite one of all
The Easter eggs I see!”

I’ve got a place of honor
On the center shelf
We’re both happy that I wasn’t found
Nancy and myself