Phyllis Diller died recently and I remembered how disappointed I was years ago when I heard that Fang, the husband she’d told me about most all of my life, was fake! BUT now I have a Fang of my own, although his name is John, and let me assure you he is real.
I didn’t know what to blog for today so I said, “John, DO something!”
Which he did, but it wasn’t blogable. A friend dropped by, though, with a story. Bob is a cabinet maker, his wife is the best tile layer in Portland and the book keeper for their family. We talked about the police, that serve in south east Portland. He’s friends with many and mentioned he gets stopped for no reason all the time. The officer flashes lights at him, pulls him over, and strolls up to his window, just to say hello. Bob also mentioned that they often roll up to his house and walk right in, to use the rest room or get a drink of water, say ‘hello’ and leave. It occurs to me, I’ve never been in his house, but police just file through willy nilly.
This reminds me of the book ‘Leafman Attacks’ where Anna’s grandmothe had a couple of visitors with stories too. The reality of those two tails wove together into a tragedy that almost destroyed the entire city of Portland.  see “Leafman Attacks” on Amazon.    nancymauerman.com