October 2012

October 28, 2012

“The Moment I Knew I Wanted to be a Writer”

I’ve been around some great writers and storytellers. Some days I can turn a sentence that makes me feel pretty good.

This weekend, though, I got to talk with and listen to Michael Wallis, a self-described “Son of Missouri,” who held an Altenburg audience spellbound Saturday night (except when my phone started reading out Wife Lila’s text message in the middle of his presentation).

In these days of LOLs and OMGs and 140-character Tweets, it’s refreshing to hear someone paint pictures of the mind using whole sentences.

Sitting next to Stan the Man

I was just going through the motions Friday night when he told how winning a Triple-A essay contest on being a patrol boy got him into the Cardinal dugout sitting next to Stan Musial on a night when Number 6 belted one out of the park with the Cards down 2, with two on and two out in the ninth. On the way home in an Augie Busch limo with his dad, there came that moment in the dark when he thought, “You know, this writing’s not so bad.”

When I got home, I listened to the digital recorder that had been stuffed in my pocket, then looked at some of the photos I had snapped off and thought, “maybe I can cobble something together out of this.” His words are definitely stronger than my photos, even if the audio is a little ragged in parts.

I scrabbled around for some old home movie footage of MY patrol boy days (I was Captain), a shot of Son Adam at the Cardinal stadium and some memorabilia from a 1949 Cardinal – Cubs game that might have been MY first pro ballgame to fill in some gaps.

Wallis has written 18 books, but my kids will probably know him better as the voice of Sheriff in the Disney-Pixar Cars series. He lived upstairs in the Last Chance / First Chance Tavern when he was a student at SEMO and is considering writing a novel about Cape.

You can find out more about Michael Wallis on his website.

October 27, 2012March 31, 2016

The Butcher Block (Esicar’s)

If you drove by Esicar’s at 1157 North Kingshighway this week, you might have noticed a neon OPEN sign in the front window. No, Esicar’s isn’t coming back after a March 6, 2011, fire that put it out of business. There’s a new meat store in town: The Butcher Block held its grand opening October 26.

I’m going to mark Day One as a success. When I stopped by Friday afternoon, owner Peter Whisnant and manager Dawn Petersen were so busy waiting on customers that they barely had time to tell me their names. Their new sign was supposed to be up, but it looks like it’ll be the first of the next week before it’s installed. Mail orders will be accepted.You can place an order by calling 573-339-8757 until a website goes up in the next couple of weeks, Peter said.

Owner Peter Whisnant

A Missourian story on October 22 had the new owner’s name spelled with a P on the end instead of a T, but I’m almost positive that I heard T. In addition, I did a search of The Missourian’s archives and saw it spelled with a T in two other stories. I’m going to call The Missourian’s latest name spelling a typo unless I hear otherwise.

Peter, who owns Fruitland American Meat, decided that Esicar’s was the perfect place for a specialty meat market because of the location’s long association with country hams, bacon and sausage.

Kelley bakes the bread

In addition to selling Bunny Bread, the store carries Kelley Whisnant’s own special Mennonite / Italian bread. Right now, she’s baking about nine loaves of bread a day (while chasing Daughter Abbigail, 1).

“What happens if you become a success and you need 25 or 30 loaves a day,” I asked.

“I guess I’ll just have to get a bigger mixer,” she replied. “Maybe that’s what I’ll get for Mother’s Day.”

Earlier stories about Esicar’s

The Butcher Block photo gallery

Here’s a collection of photos taken in and around the store. Click on any photo to make it larger, then click on the left or right side of the image to mover through the gallery.

October 26, 2012

Cold Fronts and Hurricanes

I was talking on the photo with Wife Lila about the effects of Hurricane Sandy on West Palm Beach. She started to say that they weren’t getting much rain and the wind was gusty, but no big deal, when she broke off and said that the house had been hit with a gust that had caused the huge mango tree in the back yard to bend. (Click on the photos to make them larger.)

Temperature dropping 30 degrees

Here in Missouri, we’re looking at a 30-degree drop in temperature. I believe it’s coming. I was up in Altenburg for the Immigration Conference I was speaking at this evening when the winds started picking up and the thermometer started a rapid plunge.

It’s amazing how quickly the leaves can change from a brilliant color to a dull brown to gone.

There was a huge maple about halfway between Cape and Perry counties that was a spectacular yellow on Tuesday of last week. Almost all of the leaves were off half of the tree yesterday. On the way by this morning, it was nothing but naked branches.

This is a cold sky

Walking back to the school cafeteria for a meal of chicken ‘n’ dumplings, I noticed the moon coming up. If that’s not a cold sky, I don’t know what is.

Leaves seeking shelter

Earlier in the week, these leaves were content to loll around in the sunshine minding their own leaf business. When I opened the door to get to my car Thursday night, the wind sent them swirling down the school’s hallway. You KNOW it’s going to be cold when even the leaves are seeking shelter.

October 25, 2012October 25, 2012

Speaking to the D.A.R.

The Nancy Hunter chapter of the Cape Girardeau Daughters of the American Revolution invited me to speak on the topic “Fifty Years of Looking Through a Lens.” After it was over, one of the members snatched my camera out of my hands and turned it on Mother and me. I feel much more comfortable on the taking end of pictures, but I actually like this photo. The publications in the foreground are some of the works I’ve produced in the past two years.

Certificate and pin

Regent Charlotte Slinkard presented me with a Certificate of Award for an Outstanding Program. (She had it made up in advance, which indicates she had a higher level of confidence in my abilities than I have.) She also gave me a Bicentennial of the War of 1812 American Flag pin. Regent Slinkard is second from the right in this photo.

She should save something for the funeral

LaFern Stiver, center, introduced me. She’s Friend Shari’s mother. If I had known she was going to say so many nice things, I’d have asked her to save some of them back for my funeral. You really shouldn’t shoot up all your fireworks at the beginning of the evening. You need to hold something back for the grand finale. (Click on any photo to make it larger.)

Ancestors fought in the Revolution

Mother is sitting at the far end of the table. To her left is Mary Lee Rassmussen who is her second cousin (I think). She had done research on the Adkins side of Mother’s family that goes all the way back to Scotland. A couple of our ancestors were slain by Indians shortly before the Revolution, and we had relatives who fought in the war. She didn’t find any of the horse thieves that Mother has always been afraid would turn up if we too highly up the family tree.

Library has great facilities

The Cape library has some of the best facilities I’ve seen. I always bring all of the equipment I need to put on a show without relying on screens, projectors, sound systems and the like to be there and to work. The library was great: they had shades that darkened the room; the screen came down from the ceiling with the push of a button. All I had to do was to plug my laptop computer into a jack that connected to a ceiling-mounted projector and to connect another wire to the audio output. It was the cleanest and fastest setup I’ve ever had.

I’m sorry to say that I missed getting a photo of a woman who claimed she taught me to swim when I was four years old. Mother and I compared notes later and think she may have been thinking about Brothers Mark and David. I clearly remember taking swimming lessons at the Capaha Pool when I was about 10, not four. I knew from the moment that my skin touched that early June pool water that this boy was not cut out for any sport that requires you to crack the ice before you can participate in it. I finally learned how to swim at Boy Scout Camp Lewellen when I was about 13. The water in the St. Francis River in mid-summer was acceptably warm.