Category: Life

Flannel Season

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn Life

“The fashion calendar has four main seasons: Spring/Summer (SS), Autumn/Winter (AW), Resort/Cruise and Pre-Fall. The first two are the main runway seasons presented at fashion weeks, and the latter inter-seasonal collections have been introduced to bridge the gaps between the main two seasons and introduce newness more frequently.” – Retail Dogma

I don’t have the money, the inclination, or the sense of style to wear the “proper” clothes for the official fashion seasons. So, I have no need for an expert to help me do a twice-a-year “closet swap” to keep what I’m supposed to be wearing easy to pull off the hangar. I have clothes for two seasons of the year stored at opposing ends of the closet, flannel season and denim season.

The flannel season begins when things (the weather, letters from the feds, people’s expressions) get frosty, i.e. about November 1. Denim season begins in the spring whenever the hell that turns out to be. Flannel comes from places like Land’s End and L. L. Bean. My wife finds denim jeans and shirts (always Wrangler) at various online sites now that I can no longer shop at Sears.

I’m currently wearing this “Men’s Scotch Plaid Flannel Shirt” from L. L. Bean. This is a buffalo plaid and one of my favorites in addition to the Stewart and Campbell plaids. I probably wear the Campbell “Black Watch” pattern the most because it is, after all, the family’s colours.

Now these shirts serve as light-weight jackets, though when I lived in northern Illinois, they needed multiple layers of additional jackets on top to be somewhat warm. One didn’t worry too much about fashion when commuting an hour to work on show-covered Chicago freeways, mainly the Edens.

Denim season ended on Hallowe’en. I know the Levi name is famous, but Wranger, which came on the scene in  1947, fits better for those who work rather than those who want to look like they work. Seriously, Wranglers are much better than Levis if you like horses. Wrangler advertises its denim with this picture which–trying to be modest here–looks like me.

Suffice it to say, Wrangler clothes are tough and functional. According to the company’s website, “Wrangler® is enduring American freedom; it’s in the spirit of people who work hard, have fun and recognize courageous individuality.  As a company, we believe in solid commitments and perseverance in the face of obstacles and challenges.  Most of all, we respect ourselves, each other, our western heritage and the environment in which we live.”

So there it is flannel and denim.  There’s nothing else I need in my closet.

–Malcolm

Rats, our indoor/outdoor cat missed a few

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn Life, writing2 Comments

Goodness knows, he left enough on the front porch. He must have slacked off when we didn’t bring them into the house and fry them up with sawmill gravy. I swept them off into the yard hoping they’d serve as warnings to new rats moving into the area.

Apparently not.

So as time went by, the rats that did not heed the dead in the yard and set up housekeeping in the crawl space and caused $2,500 worth of damage.

I guess we should have crawled around down there more often.  Or at least once. But there was no appeal to that, so we didn’t. The exterminators are under the house now. Better them than me. It’s almost worth $2,500 to never go in there.

The exterminator protects the house against termites. So how the guys stumbled across the rat infestation, I don’t know. Fortunately, no rats got into the main part of the house. And maybe as part of our crawl space investment, they (the exterminators) will post “warning signs” to keep new uninvited guests out of the place.

My tip to you–part of my lifelong learning experience–is if you have a crawl space, crawl inside from time to time. Make it a hobby.

–Malcolm

When Malcolm isn’t writing magical realism or posts about rats, he’s writing satire.

Years ago, our first wine was usually Mateus

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn Life2 Comments

When I was in college, the wine hidden in dorm rooms and under the seats of our cars was usually Mateus. This rose wine from Portugal came on the scene in 1942 and was a part of rapidly developing wine markets in the U.S., U.K., and elsewhere.  It’s a nostalgic drink for my generation now, though I haven’t had rose wine for years.

According to the Wikipedia entry, “Sogrape, the family company which owns the brand and which is the largest wine producer in Portugal, has more recently diversified into other areas of the Portuguese wine industry, as the popularity of its Mateus brand has declined. In the UK in 2002, the wine was re-packaged and relaunched in a deliberate effort to capitalise on 1970s nostalgia, although the wine itself had already been made less sweet and slightly more sparkling, in response to modern popular preference for slightly drier wine. The wine continues to be sold, however, in its distinctive narrow-necked, flask-shaped bottle, with unique “baroque historic mansion” label (Mateus Palace in Vila Real, Portugal) and real cork stopper, but also comes with a screw top from some distributors in Northern European countries and the U.K. market.”

“We” saw drinking people in groups: the Mateus group, the Budweiser group, and the bourbon group. We seldom mixed people from the non-wine groups because–how do I say this?–they had no culture and brains the size of raisins. Most of us grew up and decided that rose wines were pretty much like Kool-Aid. After a brief flirtation with Christian Brothers Napa Rose, we left wine for beer and cocktails because those were “adult” drinks, and becoming adults seemed like an important rite of passage.

Now I drink wine or Scotch because they require no mixing and no expensive selection of the supplies needed for cocktails. And when I drink wine, it’s always dark red. But when I think of the wonder years, I recall Mateus as a part of growing up.

–Malcolm

Fruit of the Vine

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn Life, writing

A recent headline in Forbes said, “France Has So Much Extra Wine, It’s Paying Farmers $215 Million To Destroy It.” That’s just sad. Not because I drink French wine, but because wine is a magical drink that does wonderful things for the world.

France should sell all that wine to the countless Facebook users who claim to drink wine like there’s no tomorrow. There are countless memes, including, “I cook with wine. Sometimes I put it in the food.”

Facebook has 2.9 billion active users. France produces eight million bottles of wine a year. France’s wine surplus might, perhaps, be raken care of if Facebook bought France rather like Musk buying Twitter. However, there a culture clash here since French  wines are intended to be paired with food and Facebook consumption of wine is paired with everything else.

Biltmore Winery

When I visit the Biltmore estate in Asheville, NC, I do pair my wine with food inasmuch as their restaurants serve wine from the estate’s winnery. These are some of my favorite meals because the wine and the food are superior. Elsewhere, I usually drink the most inexpensive wine on restaurant menus (not founting the stuff sold in 55-gallon drums).

In “Fruit of the vine, our spiritual drink,” Stacy Woods writes that,  “Instead, let’s talk about wine in religious settings. For many Christians and Jews alike, the fruit of the vine is holier than any other and plays a significant role in the celebration of faith. A spiritual drink is used to sanctify daily prayers, on holy days, and at weddings, births and deaths. It can be red, white, pink, dry or sweet wine, or even simply grape juice.” This view is, I think, important to many people’s consumption of wine.

Unlike people who drink beer by the six-pack, wine drinkers don’t normally plan to get drunk. They intend to enlarge and, perhaps, santify, their experiences on the journey of life. Wine can be paired with anything meaningful.

I am thinking of wine today because I’m having my first glass in many weeks inasmuch as the antibiotic I was taking could not be paired with alcohol. I don’t know yet if the antibiotics did what they were suposed to do, but I do know that several glasses of Yellowtail Shiraz have paired wll with my mood.

—Malcolm

OMG, I’m drinking green tea again

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn Life, writing

“Green tea is a type of tea that is made from Camellia sinensis leaves and buds that have not undergone the same withering and oxidation process which is used to make oolong teas and black teas. Green tea originated in China, and since then its production and manufacture has spread to other countries in East Asia.” – Wikipedia

If you were around in 1969 (you probably weren’t) “we” (lots of people) jumped in the Celestial Seasonings band wagon swilling down “Sleepy Time,” “Red Zinger,” and others. After all, there was a war on.

Years went by and, due to bad spirits, my stomach started rebelling against tea, even Earl Grey. But now those spirits have gone away, due to high-quality conjuring work on my part, and now I’m drinking green tea and honey to settle my stomach.

Wikipedia photo

Even sites like WebMD say that there are numerous health benefits to drinking green tea: “As a drink or supplement, green tea is sometimes used for high cholesterol, high blood pressure, to prevent heart disease, and to prevent ovarian cancer. It is also used for many other conditions, but there is no good scientific evidence to support most of these uses.”

Jeanine at Love & Lemons–a great food site–writes, “Regular green tea is already touted as an antioxidant powerhouse, but Matcha has even more benefits. Here’s why: when you make other forms of green tea, you steep the leaves in hot water and then discard them. When you make Matcha, you whisk the powder into hot water or milk. As a result, you actually consume the entire tea leaf when you drink it! The antioxidants it contains may lower blood pressure, reduce your risk of heart disease, and even boost your metabolism.”

I started drinking this brew as a medicine. Now I’ve come to like it.

—Malcolm

I almost feel bad pressing charges when a woman steals my wallet and only takes $30

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn Life, writing2 Comments

Without my noticing it, my wallet got shoved off the counter onto the floor at a local pharmacy. When I realized I didn’t have it, I went back to the pharmacy where they used their video and discovered that a woman had come into the store, picked up the wallet, and put it in her purse. The pharmacy called the police.

The woman was caught because she got an injection at the pharmacy which created a record of her visit along with her name and address. It didn’t take the police long to find her. She confessed to taking the wallet, saying that she kept the cash and tossed the wallet out the car window. All this happened before I even left the store.

The officer asked if I wanted to press charges. Assuming at that point that the woman had used one or more of the VISA/MC cards and that I was looking toward the hassle of getting a new driver’s license, medicare card, and a set of all new credit cards, I said “yes.” Later the wallet was found with all the cards &c. untouched by somebody who was kind enough to bring it to my house with no idea the police had arrested a thief in the matter of that wallet.

Of course, I know nothing about the thief, mainly whether or not this kind of thing is a habit with her or whether she has a police record. If she has no record, I can’t really see her going to jail for stealing $30. I definitely have mixed feelings about this, and that goes to show you that I’d never make it as a cop, a DA, or a judge.

In Georgia, misdemeanor theft can lead to up to one year in jail. I hope she gets a community service sentence instead unless the whole thing is dismissed since the amount was so small– and (if) she gives me the money back.

I may never know how this ends up. What would you have done if this happened to you?

–Malcolm

Malcolm R. Campbell is the author of the Florida Folk Magic series. All four novels are available at a savings in this Kindle version.

Jimmy, I’m sure there’s a woman to blame

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn Life, writing

I tell you what, people younger than me are dropping like flies, and I wonder if it’s time to worry.

Buffett

Today the mayor of Margaritaville has left the beach, flying high and away up into the clouds in his wonderful HU-16 Albatross (a plane I knew well from my time in the Navy), the “Hemisphere Dancer.” I want to say thank you for all the songs and that  “drunken Caribbean rock ‘n’ roll” flavor that fueled them. But he knows we liked the music and would have moved to Margaritaville if we could.

I’m not sure whether I should mourn his passing with a pitcher of margaritas or a six-pack of LandShark Lager. He’s left behind a legacy of songs, books, and business ventures. So he leaves us with a lot of what he knew and loved.  He was part of the “Silent Generation,” though that term doesn’t describe him! And yet, I think of the knowledge lost as members of this generation fly away–as useful as albatrosses, the younger generations believe–that will never be known again.

The manatees say, “So long, and thanks for all the sea grasses, mollusks, worms, crustaceans, bivalves, and fish.

What we know, some say, is out of date and irrelevant. I doubt that. But that’s life. Rest in peace, Jimmy.

—Malcolm

Looking back to decisions not made and roads not taken

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn Life, writing2 Comments

When I was younger and reading about the Knights of the Round Table, Merlin, and Arthur, I tried to figure out how Merlin lived his life backward. Was he born at 100 years of age and then each year became a year younger? Possibly, though when interacting with Arthur, Merlin knew the past, a time he couldn’t have experienced yet. I finally let the matter sit on a dusty shelf and enjoyed the stories without worrying about Merlin’s claim except to believe him when he spoke to Arthur about the future.

When people get older that dirt–I don’t think I’m there yet–they’re often asked if they could go back in time and change one mistake, would they do it. I suppose the question is easier to answer if somebody committed a crime and is now serving a life sentence.  Undo the crime and you’re no longer doing the time. That sounds like a no-brainer.

But what about the rest of us? Sometimes I feel sad about doing ABC instead of XYZ. But then I think about how different my life would have been if I’d made the opposite decision. I get tangled up in the complexity of it all because changing one decision would ripple throughout my life and a thousand things I’m happy about would probably be wiped out of existence. I wouldn’t have “been there” for those things to happen. I wouldn’t be married to my soul mate or had a great daughter and granddaughters.

What might have been always feels bittersweet when considered in a vacuum. But when the totality of a lifetime–without Merlin’s knowledge of the purported future–is considered, the consequences of changing even the smallest thing loom very large. So when people ask me that question, my answer is always that I wouldn’t change a thing. I wouldn’t dare.

Inasmuch as I created the life I have lived, I think it’s best to keep living it because in spite of the things I could have done, where I have ended up is just what the “doctor” ordered.

The cat in my Florida Folk Magic series says past, present, and future happen simultaneously. Who am I to disagree?

–Malcolm

Book three of the Florida Folk Magic Series.

When Police Chief Alton Gravely and Officer Carothers escalate the feud between “Torreya’s finest” and conjure woman Eulalie Jenkins by running her off the road into a north Florida swamp, the borrowed pickup truck is salvaged but Eulalie is missing and presumed dead. Her cat Lena survives. Lena could provide an accurate account of the crime, but the county sheriff is unlikely to interview a pet.

Lena doesn’t think Eulalie is dead, but the conjure woman’s family and friends don’t believe her. Eulalie’s daughter Adelaide wants to stir things up, and the church deacon wants everyone to stay out of sight. There’s talk of an eyewitness, but either Adelaide made that up to worry the police, or the witness is too scared to come forward.

When the feared Black Robes of the Klan attack the first responder who believes the wreck might have been staged, Lena is the only one who can help him try to fight them off. After that, all hope seems lost, because if Eulalie is alive and finds her way back to Torreya, there are plenty of people waiting to kill her and make sure she stays dead.

One key fob to bind them

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn Life

If you have a recent car, you know that the most important piece of equipment is the key fob, the remote that unlocks the car as you approach and locks it as you walk away, and allows you to start the car by holding down the brake pedal and pushing the start button. I think it will also cook breakfast and start the car on a cold winter’s day.

Key Fob - 2016-2021 Honda HR-V 4-Button Smart Key Fob Remote (KR5V1X, 72147-T7S-A01)The primary key fob includes a key that will start the car during the apocalypse if need be. That key will also open the remote so you can change the battery inside even though this isn’t mentioned in the car’s operating manual.  On the secondary key fob, there’s a slide switch half the size of a grain of rice.  What it does, I don’t know because it doesn’t open the remote’s battery compartment.

Since this key fob will control the universe, you’d think the car’s manual would mention it, possibly including instructions for changing the battery and mentioning what size that battery is. I hate to drive by the dealership and ask, er, how do you change the battery in this sonofabitch that isn’t mentioned in the car’s operating instructions.

Maybe I’m supposed to ask the key fob how to do that, like Alexa. I’m thinking, though, that changing the battery in the fob is classified information because, you know, if the fob falls into the wrong hands those hands can launch missiles or otherwise mess up life as we know it.

–Malcolm

hello to 18 million veterans

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn Life

Tomorrow is a day for parades that honor the 18 million former servicemen and women who–these days–volunteer to give of their time and perhaps their lives on behalf of the country. Like many people in my generation, I remember when the day was called Armistice Day because that was the name we first heard as kids like Boulder Dam instead of Hoover Dam and tin foil instead of aluminum foil. The name was officially changed to Veterans Day in 1954.

In 2016, President Obama signed the Veterans Day Moment of Silence Act urging Americans to observe a two-minute period of silence at 3:11 p.m. local time. On Memorial Day, the moment of silence occurs at 3:00 p.m. local time. In both cases, the silence honors those who died and those who served.

Many of us are veterans, have family members who are veterans and know others who are veterans. While the day doesn’t lend itself to family gatherings like Thanksgiving, acknowledging veterans in some way seems to be preferable to using the day to attend sales of one kind or another.

In 2019, the Cohen Veterans Network commissioned a poll and learned that 49% of veterans don’t like to be thanked for their service. In general, veterans feel uncomfortable being thanked. Better, perhaps, to ask where the person served and/or what their service branch and job were. One can always donate or provide volunteer support to organizations that support veterans. If you search online, you’ll find many charities focused on veterans, including those trying to help former servicemen and women cope with PTSD.

I think we owe it to ourselves to find out why so many veterans are homeless–possibly 40,000 at this point–and work toward ways of solving this national embarrassment. That number appears to have decreased during the last several years.

Pick what works for you. Being involved serves the greater good, I think.

–Malcolm