Notes - Sophia & Dr. Chan, future guests / Doug's pool table / Bob's criticisms

         1041 hours. I  have to get my haircut. Mary Ann was busy when I drove over this morning but she can get me in just a bit.

         Why is this important?

         I am making an excuse as to why I haven't been working on this  "Dead" section this morning.

         The section is already completed in your head, boy. - Amorella

         1205 hours. Mary Ann said I hadn't had my beard trimmed in eleven weeks. I thought it had been less than two months, maybe six weeks. Carol is working through the mail then I assume we are off to Smash Burger's for lunch in that I have a free side coming.

         You stopped at the Obama headquarters in uptown Mason for two bumper stickers. You were surprised when they didn't take money for a donation. They are smaller "Ohio for Obama" stickers.

         I will stop at the headquarters in Shaker Heights Square sometime this next week to see what they have. We still have our '08 stickers on the cars so maybe a "2012" sticker will do. Obama's speech last night was right on the money. The Democrats values are pretty much my own, but then what would you expect from a long time public school teacher. The Democrats have always endorsed education, at least in my lifetime. Public education is a socialist enterprise, but then so is public works and road building. Our species is built to share community. Lone wolf's are always around, but I certainly am not one of them. Good grief, we even bury some of the dead in communal places. Communal values are socialist values.

         You stop because you have nothing else to say on the subject. - Amorella

         I don't feel that the "Dead-3" story is written in my head, but maybe it is. I am not in the writing mood presently. In fact I almost feel tired. Glucose was a lot better today at 112. Maybe I'm just getting hungry, in that I had a cup of Cheerios with skim mild and a banana for an early before-seven breakfast.

         1529 hours. We had lunch and have been running errands ever since. However, now we are at the north end of Pine Hill Lakes Park. Carol is reading a new novel, Robin Cook's Death Benefit; she's only on page 14. You can hear the band practicing for tonight's football game and kids out of school are wandering in 'bunches' around the food gathering spots. Very much primate behavior; treats for themselves for getting through the second or third week of school. If I were to guess I would say half of our social system is based on the private and public school systems. You go to classes for twelve or sixteen years then you go to work for most of the rest of your life -- twenty and twenty-first century life in the United States, Canada, Latin America, Europe and the Far East.

         Makes you wonder how the Dead construct their days? - Amorella

         No, it doesn't. From what I've seen it's based on brunch and supper, two meals, at least with the ancient Greeks. Does Merlyn invite Sophia for brunch or what we used to call a "Coke date" in college? Can he convert his 'inner' quarters into 'living' quarters like the private quarters in recently defunct "The Rebellion"?

         Merlyn is limited as to his invitees, Gloama or a higher up like Sophia (from Rebellion times), or a fictional dead historian on world history, Dr. Chan, Oxford educated who consulted with the British Museum and the Smithsonian. He died in a traffic accident in Brooklyn on 1 March 2003. His knowledge, when needed, will mainly come from Wikipedia sources.

         Why does Dr. Chan remember, or care to remember so much Earth history?

         History is in his heart's photographic memory, boy, and he doesn't want to let it go, he may never let it go, but you see, that's another story. Post.- Amorella

         1752 hours. Doug sent me a note with a photo of his antique pool table. I did not know he had an antique table. I do remember playing pool with him though at the then relatively new OSU Student Union. Speaking of friends I am going to gather up all of Bob's criticisms of my writing poetry and otherwise and try to zero in on writing a book (with some literary detail) that he would have enjoyed.

         This will not be a problem, orndorff. I gathered as much already. We can add a few of his off the cuff comments directly as Richard (in the story) will find them in the bottom right drawer of his desk so from time to time he can ruminate over what his twin brother has already written. This will be with Patti's permission of course. - Amorella

         I am pleased to hear this. Wonderful. He did say I could use any of the poems in our joint unpublished book. Though I would not do so without gaining Patti's permission. 

         That he did. Thus there is room for modification in "The Brothers" sections. Post. - Amorella

Notes - Merlyn's mind-table example / Sophia & Merlyn? /

         You have been sitting at the McD's at Exit 65 on I-71 about half way between Cincinnati and Columbus. Mary Lou and Carol are shopping while you have been working on Dead-1 and spending time gathering a variety of images of billiard balls and tables, ball pocket racks and cue sticks from Wikipedia and elsewhere. Here is Merlyn's table.

         I need to have a clearer demonstration of a particular set of balls and table to represent the movement through Merlyn's mind. Two random pockets are for the heart and soul. Merlyn never knows what is going to strike home. I remember Jerry B's dad's table had the ball return system to a ball return box located near the bottom end of the table near the cue mark. It was a Brunswick table with inlaid shield leather pockets. I found a couple good images of the model mind table for Merlyn. I wonder if I should correlate this with Diplomat's model mind in book three.

         No need boy that will not be included.

         What about her proofs that the Soki is a small atom-like alien intelligence?

         It's been done, boy. Your scene settings will be used however.  - Amorella

         This is a surprise.

         Your grandsons will probably never read the original but this series is for their generation not yours. - Amorella

         1419 hours. This will be interesting.

         Post, dude. Carol will be coming soon. - Amorella

         1856 hours. Panera/Chipotle for supper and then a stop at Kroger's before home to watch tonight's DVRed national news.

         I have an idea that may help clarifying the pool table analogy. Use the automatic pocket return as a gathering place, the unconscious, if you will. The green stick will be the conscious mind and the yellow stick the unconscious. The balls come out on the cue ball's diamond marker. A happy thought gives way to a sad one or the other way around. Sometimes several balls come up from the unconscious at once. The cue ball is sometimes reasoned and sometimes seemingly random, though in Merlyn's case this is not always so. Your first hand experience with concept is how you react to me depending on circumstance. The table felt is one of three of the primary colors, red, yellow or blue. The colors represent the 'flavors' of the mind, sweet, sour or neutral. The colors of the rainbow will be run though from time to time when one of the characters makes an existential decision. No ghosts, no haunting in this, besides who would haunt Merlyn? Spiritual emissaries move about, one in particular, Rhodarex. Sheandhe sets the angles of the cue. What do you think? - Amorella

         Sounds interesting but far too complicated. Keep it simple, Amorella.

         You first thought, 'Keep it simple, Merlyn." - Amorella

         1919 hours. I did. No ghosts for me, not Merlyn. I am beyond being spooked by anything.

         Good. Post when you are home. - Amorella

         2039 hours. We watched the news, NBC and most of ABC. I am tired. I get the message, Amorella. I spent an hour working on images of balls on the pool tabs. Solids and stripes, thinking, what can I do with these? I have too much 'stuff' in my head and want to 'make use' of it all. Too many words. I need to stay old Presbyterian, plain and simple Wyler's Our Town style. I don't know what else to do.

           Let's continue as we began. A little billiards can go a way. Merlyn 'knows' what's important in book four. You have a sense of the Rebellion by living it for more than a year. Re-read the first two Dead chapter sections, see if there is a way to bring in a character to represent the Rebellion, one who knows how it was first hand, Sophia, Gloama's bodily 'twin'. Merlyn and Sophia can have a quick talk, a spark of how it was and when. The purpose and the result. Post. - Amorella

Notes - catch up day / personal character /

         Mid-morning. You are sitting at a crossroads in Rose Hill Cemetery as Carol does her walking. Too much moisture on the Pine Hill paths this morning. Mostly clear skies and to combat this you are sitting in shaded comfort.

         My eyes are far too sensitive to sunlight. In high school at football practice and even before that playing baseball teammates would ask if I could see anything because of my continual squinting. Strange, in those days I never considered wearing clip-on sunglasses over my glasses. Never dawned on me and as far as I can remember no one suggested it. I don't even remember my classmates wearing sunglasses. I was not aware of a lot of things. Squinting became so natural I never thought about it. Today I think I own five pair of sunglasses or clip-on sunglasses plus my regular glasses shade automatically except in the car with the windows up and top closed.

         You are thinking, 'just thoughts, Amorella, I'll shut up.' - Amorella

         I was. I forgot I was writing. I am quite used to seeing my thoughts on the screen as I think them. I'm sure that sounds odd.

         Let's straight out some document work then begin chapter three. - Amorella

         1622 hours. We watched a two DVRed shows during and after a sandwich and chips lunch. I spent time cleaning up iCloud and now have everything together as one document for continual and final tweaking when I have the time. I also set up two folder stops before a final delete so I don't throw away something I may need later. Also, I have been setting up the documents, color coding and so forth and have five new docs ready for this third chapter. The chapter title page with the ditty is already in the green.

         In a half hour or so you are off to an early supper at the pub. You are getting yourself back into a fully operating writing mode. Earlier you received a surprising note from your old friend and science advisor on this book, Doug Goss, and you find he does have his pilot's license to fly a Cessna Cherokee 140. You find this "most totally awesome" in that he has done something you had never dreamed of doing other than virtually.

         I do find this totally awesome. He used to like the planes at the small airport on Morse Road not too far west of Cleveland Avenue at the now north end of Columbus. I will be extra anxious when he reads an episode where flying the plane is involved. 

         You both used to watch drag races at that runway on Sundays. He always wanted to fly so he took lessons when he was working on his post doc at Notre Dame. To you this is very cool.

         What is cool is that Doug knew what he wanted to do in life and took the time and energy to do it. He has always been one to do whatever work is required to complete a goal. He has great personal character and he's an honest man. I am honored to be his friend.

         Post. Later we can work. And, you can find time to watch President Clinton's speech tonight. You are both looking forward to it. - Amorella

         2005 hours. I need to spend more time cleaning up The Dead 1 & 2 before I begin Dead-3.

         I agree. Tweaking to be done. Call it a night. Post. - Amorella

Notes - what? / humor / Diplomatic Pouch for chapters 1 & 2 /DNC

        Not quite mid-morning. A rather dismal beginning of the day. You 'completed' "Diplomatic Pouch -1" last night but decided to wait for a cleaner check this morning. You would be better off waiting until you completed DP-2 to better assure yourself you are on track. Don't overload the reader with alien philosophy when bits and pieces will do. Relax. Do your exercises. - Amorella

         0920 hours. Exercises complete and we are readying to go to the park for Carol's walk. I feel better once the exercises are done but my glucose was 142 this morning. I cannot remember when it was that high. Very light breakfast and a light supper planned. I might as well go for a lighter lunch while I'm at it. I had a third piece of pizza last night that is the only difference in my routine. I found another change or two on DP-1 on a note I scribbled by the bed when I was half asleep. I need to be more conscious of my writing and what I am doing.

         Later, dude. Post. - Amorella

         This seems an unlikely place to post.

         And, why is that? - Amorella

         I haven't said anything.

         Perhaps you do need to be more conscious. - Amorella

        1236 hours. While the house was quiet I watched last night's "Grimm" for a diversion. --

         Carol's home and we are heading to Olive Garden for lunch after she sorts, opens and writes a check for a the bill or two. You were looking for magazines but no such luck today. - Amorella

         I am already waiting for two new magazines (a years subscription), Motor Trend and Car and Driver. --

         You had a good lunch at Olive Garden and are now at the local Barnes & Noble while Carol looks for books. It is interesting to observe your observations of sweet young twenty and somethings, orndorff. - Amorella

         I think it is built in, Amorella. A pretty young lady comes into view and while I don't really 

focus the pretty ones catch my eye.

         Sometimes you focus on those upper thighs and butt, boy. - Amorella

         Okay. How can I deny this? I am uncomfortable not denying it. Now, why is that?

         That's the point. You need to be aware of the cultural influences. Some are so imbedded (my word choice). - Amorella

         We are not so free, sex is obviously genetics.

         Keep that in mind with your marsupial humanoids. They are not so free either. The mutual attractions are already there. - Amorella

         The point is that Diplomat is more than a probability.

         In these three books you will find that (as you thought rather whimsically back at the beginning of the original Braided Dreams) there is more to genetics than meets the eye. A direction of purpose based on reason that leads (in this next edition) beyond the grave and beyond. - Amorella

         So, I will learn some stuff, imaginary stuff, but it ought to be interesting. I'll take insight into the probable real no matter where it comes from.

         Good. You have a wealth of 'worked' imagination already. No question about that. We are going to include a hint of a couple of these points in these first three sections of BD2. Remember at the conclusion of book three the reader discovers that by the middle of the twentieth century your genetic Mother, Gloama, has already left HeavenOrHellBothOrNeither. This is true of the marsupial humanoid's original genetic Mother also. - Amorella

         The first thing that comes to mind is Clarke's Childhood's End.

         Concepts open themselves to consciousness within the framework of genetic time. A concept before its time means little or nothing. You witnessed an example of this is Grandma's Story on the concept of the zero. - Amorella

         Diplomat then is a hybrid flowering of a concept.

         Of sorts, not for herself, but for those who follow her.

         Hasn't this been done before?

         This concept is not here yet and it won't arrive until you are well into book three (which would have been book six). Post. - Amorella

         No sense attempting to imagine but if it is a concept that will work for a present two and a half year old and a sixth month old that adds to the fun for me.

         In here humor is a saving grace, boy. Now that you are home, post. - Amorella

         2058 hours. I have completed DB2N. Still, I would rather wait than put it on the blog.

         Why?

         This is because of further possible adjustments on these first two Diplomatic Pouch sections. They 'seem' okay. I like the flow. Both pass the readability test 100 percent.

         You are being too timid for the wrong reasons. Put them together as a unit for now not as sections of chapters. Let them ride. Then we can begin work on chapter three. - Amorella

*** ***

Diplomatic Pouch - 1

         Pyl Burroughs sat straight and narrow upfront to the left of the pilot, her brother Blake, The second row seat behind Pyl had been taken out allowing thirty-three year old Justin to comfortably sit with sturdy legs stretched in front of the third row of cabin seats. With the engine in idle the three awaited runway departure instructions for take off from Detroit's old city airport to Burke Lakefront in Cleveland. "On the Road Again" had just begun playing in the background with interspersing interruption from the tower.

         Pyl turned excitedly, "Jus, what'd you think of the auto show?"

         "I liked it. I liked the new Ford Fusion the best."

         "I liked it too. Which one did you like best, Blakey."

         "Right now, I like the weather best. Sunny and mild, not bad for a third of the way through January."

         "Who would have thought we would fly to this year's show back in October," commented Justin.

         "Warm winter, so far," added Pyl somberly while thinking, if we ditch in the lake we'll have no ice to land on.

         Looking towards his brother-in-law Justin asked, "Isn't this a pretty old plane?"

         "Hey, the only thing we didn't add was leather seats. We should have never ordered these to begin with. They are over ten years old and I can't stand them."

         Pyl quietly reflected, when this plane was new Daddy had the best leather seats, then said, "Daddy loved this plane, didn't he Blakey?"

         Sighing in the upcoming air of redundancy he dryly commented, "Daddy loved this plane, Pyl. Being too kind, he added the roughage, "Dad truly loved this for the business it brought rather than pleasure it gave."

         Pyl cracked back, "We took so many family trips." She near silently grumbled, "No more kind Blakely, the butt is back."

         Justin perked at Pyl's freshly defensive tone. Never-ending squabbles. Never-ending family squabbles between these two. I don't know how their parents put up with it.

         Blake talking under breath, noted, "We are a go on 33."

         Justin leaned forward adjusting so he could watch the instrument needles fluttering and the worn but solid asphalt runway disappearing beneath the rotating three blade prop.

         An hour into their flight Blake and Justin were enjoying the quiet drown of the engine along with the darker blue above and the gray blue waters of Lake Erie thousands of feet below. Dusk around five, fancied Blake when the tip of the left wing lightly tapped something. Blake quickly adjusted and settled the flight.

         "Was it a bird?" asked Pyl cautiously.

         "Sounded like a new tire kicking up a stone," imagined Justin.

         Blake picked up the small binoculars for a quick inspection, "There's a crack near the wing tip light. Damn, I just paid fifteen hundred for those." His puffed lower lip and grumbling demeanor lead to another round of silence through the uneventfully and thus satisfactory landing at Burke an hour before dark.

         While Blake visually inspected the landing light held fiberglass wingtip more closely he observed a minute gray spongy substance within the slight crack, it was secondary to the fact that the crack appeared repairable for a lot less money than he had anticipated.

         "What is that?"

         "I don't know, Justin." Then after a pause, "Probably bird gut."

         "Squeeze me out some," ordered Pyl. "I'll have it analyzed. I want to see what kind of bird it was."

         "What for?" moaned Justin. "Jeez."

         "Not much here, but get me something to put it in."

         A quiet stranger walked up to the wing and seemingly began inspecting the damage.

         Before her brother spoke, Pyl asked politely, "May I help you?"

         "I saw you coming in. I am interested in buying an old Cessna P210N like this one," commented the otherwise noncommittal stranger.

         The woman has such an odd dialect, thought Justin. Noting her large dark Mediterranean eyes, he extended his hand and said, "I'm Justin. This is my wife, Pyl and that's her brother on the stool."

         The words echoed through Friendly's marsupial humanoid mind and into her marsupial humanoid heart. 'I'm Justin. This is my wife, Pyl and that's my brother on the stool.' My first formal introduction to a primatial humanoid. This was not our plan. We cannot phantom why Ship allowed the collision. Blackanot was On. At least there is no physical or mental harm to these earthlings, but Ship requests we have this plane for deconstruction and analysis. She quickly gathered herself into a warm smile, "Hello, I'm Friendly."

         "That's your name?" questioned Pyl.

         "Yes," Friendly gave her hand to Pyl, "that's my given name, and you are Pill?"

         Pyl giggled, "My brother couldn't pronounce my real name so I have been stuck with Pyl ever since."

         Friendly turned slightly and shook Justin's hand, "And you are the brother?"

         "No, he's my husband. Blake is still inspecting the damage. My brother."

         "We think a bird hit the wingtip light. A slight crack, but it appears repairable."

         "I have a trace of the remains," added Pyl. "I'm going to have it analyzed to see what kind of bird it was."

         A slight crack, thought Friendly. Ship was considerate. He would have been more so had he not allowed the hit at all. Interrupting her thoughts she said, "Well, good luck with making the repair. I assume you are not interested in selling."

         "How much would you give for her?"

         "Blake,” complained Pyl, "Daddy would never want us to sell this plane. She's family."

         Looking directly up into Blake's face with a renewed confidence for a quick end to the matter, Friendly said, "Upon a descent inspection and fly about, I’ll give you up two hundred thousand and not a dime more," while concluding with a quick but hardened smile.

         "Give me your card. I'll contact you tomorrow," responded Blake with a bit more politeness than he desired.

*** ***

Diplomatic Pouch - 2

         The next morning Blake rambled down the stairs to find Pyl and Justin sitting at the table with toast and a cup of coffee and the Plain Dealer. "Morning," he murmured. Glancing out the large kitchen window, Blake added, "Looks like quite a few dog walkers out at the park."

         "Joggers were out earlier," commented Justin, and with the slightest of sarcasm, "Just another wonderful day in the neighborhood."

        

         "Right."

         Pym put down the editorial page and said, "Are you really willing to sell the plane?"

         "The offer is thirty-thousand more than its worth top dollar."

         "Why is that?" said Justin. "We were talking about this earlier."

         Blake walked to the cupboard for a cup, the refrigerator for skim milk, and the pantry from instant cocoa mix. "She said, tops at two hundred," he replied. "Odd that she brought up her top price rather than low-balling. I will say that." Nuked the milk and powdered cocoa.

         "Justin thinks she has a Boston and Brooklyn accent. I agree that it's unusual, almost like English is her second language."

         Blake laughed, "Or she's from down in the hills and worked to rid herself of that hillbilly twang. Business people don't like that uneducated slow tone even if the grammar is correct." He surprised himself with siding with the woman but not with the injustice that comes from not speaking correctly." He made his way to the table and sat down facing the window.

         "You've taken a liking to her sudden friendliness, huh, Blakey," tweaked his sister.

         With Justin quickly adding, "Sell the plane and gain a wife, is that the plan, old man."

         "Then we'd have the plane back," joked Pyl only afterwards thinking that wouldn't be a bad idea.

         "Don't you too have to go to work today?"

         "We took the day off."

         "If you stayed in Daddy's business like I did you wouldn't have to be going into working at all," said Blake dryly, while hopefully wishing they would help run the company.  'We live in the family house together. We might as well all be working at the same place mostly from here at home.'

***

         Midmorning. Ship is setting well above the air traffic and well below any orbiting satellites. Lake Erie is straight down. Friendly sits around a handsomely dark p2wooded table-from-the-floor with Hartolite and Yermey. They are drinking a good-for-you yummy twistanshake and nibbling on p1green-forest-nuttleberry treats. All three sit bare breasted in colorful boxershorts loungers relaxed on comfortchairs down so their clean bare feet with toe nails well trimmed are firmly snuggled in the greenest plushest living blades of grass this side of their HomePlanetsThree. Ship's floor itself is a living piece of total bio-diverse machinery from outer hull to antigravobars pulse that allows these perspicacious marsupial humanoids to serve as Ship's heart, Ship's humanity, not Ship's mind.

         In almost all situations Ship's mind can be left completely on his own. The worst that can happen is Ship will run to HomePlanetsThree naked save for his bioheart crew attached. When it comes to fight-or-flight the marsupial humanoids have always had some place to run to for safety. They have not had to stand-an-fight for over twenty-thousand earth years. Evolving higher consciousness on HomePlanetsThree saw to that.

         "Do you think he'll take your offer?" asked fit and ready-for-a-swim Hartolite.

         Yermey stated, "I'm more interested in why Ship allowed the wingtip's touch. Ship had to know the plane was close and he chose to do nothing about it."

         With eyes narrowing in gaze, Captain Friendly commented, "He allowed the touch not a collision. I too wonder about this but for now we need to go with what is. Unknowingly this woman has scientific evidence of alien existence. Plus, it may be there is more evidence on the plane itself, traces of blackenot tissue for instance. I thought that under the circumstances it would be easier to buy the plane and allow them to make a healthy profit in the process. Besides, perhaps there is an electromagnetic reason that allowed the plane to get so close. It could have been an odd short-circuiting. Godofamily knows stranger things have happened in this galaxy.

         "What do we do?" questioned Hartolite. "Ship is now autonomous as we came here against direct orders from ParentsinCharge."

         "To save this species of primates from a most abominably sickening plague," whispered Friendly in her strikingly-for-her-species unconventionally commanding tone.

         "We cannot know this for certain," calmed Yermey with his famously impish smile. "It is highly probable though, highly probable." This he quietly reasoned because otherwise he would not have volunteered for this surreptitious expedition.

*** ***

         I am a little guarded here because DP1 has 977 words while DP2 only has 769 words. I should probably add more.

         For length alone? When you come to the end you place a period and let it go. Not a good enough reason, boy. Post. - Amorella

        You are reading an old letter from Bob, it is as fresh as the day he wrote it 4 November 1997. Carol came in and asked you if you want to watch the Democratic Convention Speech by Michele Obama and you said yes. You were watching earlier on MSNBC and found that when you listen to many speeches by fired up Democrats you weep stealthfully and silently. The words and emotions penetrate your heart as your mind already has the floodgates open. This is who you are. Post. - Amorella

         What you say is embarrassingly true.

         That is the very reason I want it posted. - Amorella