Today’s word prompt is Right. This will be the last Tuesday Tale until September. We’ve decided to take a sabbatical for the month of August. This story still does not have a name. I am really slow working on this one for some reason and am still in chapter two. I know, I know, I’m usually fast drafting but I can’t seem to get on a roll. I think it’s that my broken elbow is giving me fits still. That’s what I’m saying anyway. LOL
Be sure to check out the other tales here.
“This chicken is divine, Charlie,” Johnny said.
Kat was brought back to the conversation by his comment. “Yes, it is. So amazing. It’s the best I’ve ever had.”
“Thank you all.” Charlie stood and pulled her apron back on. “I better get this cleaned up.”
Paul stood and grabbed Charlie by the waist. He swung her around. “No way. You cook, I clean.”
They playfully wrestled for a moment. Kat stood. “I’ll wash, you dry, Paul.”
“I can wash, Kat. You sit.” Philip offered.
“No. I want to help. Charlie has been nice enough to let us in and cook for us, it’s the least I can do. Besides, I’m not sure I can stand by and watch you wash dishes. Remember what happened at the beach house that time you were cleaning the kitchen.” Kat laughed.
“You guys are never going to let me forget that, are you?” Philip stuck out his bottom lip.
“You got that right. Anyone who would drink as much as you did that day and then decide to clean when he was still on rubber legs, deserves not to live it down,” Johnny said.
“Since you are going to clean my kitchen, I think I’ll go home.” Charlie turned to Paul. “Can you lock up?”
“Sure. Go on. I’ll be there in a little while. I’ll see you then.” Paul encouraged Charlie toward the door with a light tap on her shoulder.
“You’re staying at the house tonight and not the hotel?” Charlie asked as she tugged off the apron again and grabbed some keys from the hook by the back door.
“Yeah. I think so. Will that be okay?”
“Always. You know that.” She blew a kiss and was gone.
This is going to be super short but was too cool not to share. The city of Detroit in Michigan was founded on July 24, 1701 by the French explorer/adventurer Antoine Laument de La Mothe, Sieur de Cadillac (how’s that for a mouthful of a name?). He was born in France but moved to New France on the American continent – the area stretched from what we now as eastern Canada and down to Louisiana.
He founded a fort in this territory and called it Fort Pontchartrain du Detroit on that date in 1701 which was 313 years ago yesterday. Interestingly, the city of Cadillac, Michigan was named after him as well. AND, if you’ve ever been to Louisiana, I bet you know where Lake Pontchartrain is, don’t you? This dude had some far-reaching influences, didn’t he?
Anyway, all that above leads me to the way cool Friday Fact I wanted to share. My love of symmetry comes into play here for sure. Detroit was founded 313 years ago yesterday and guess what their telephone area code is? Yep, you got it. 313. How cool is that? And could it ever happen to another city?
Flight Risk, my 1950s set sweet romance came out yesterday and is available at Sweet Cravings Publishing.
Vivian Bowker swore off men when her last love, an amateur pilot, was killed on his first solo flight. She lives near Edwards Air Force base in California but avoids all contact with the flyboys stationed there. Working as a campaign aide in Dwight Eisenhower’s reelection campaign forces her into close proximity with one of the very type men she likes to avoid. A hot shot pilot with no fear.
Frederick Logan, known as Rick to his pals, is determined to go to into space. His life goal is to leave the Earth’s atmosphere. He joined the Air Force for that chance. When he meets Vivian, he’s attracted to her and hopes they can form a relationship. She pushes him away but soon, their fragile friendship forces them to confront certain issues. She must face her fears and he must face that he could lose his dream.
This week, here in lovely Pensacola, the Wienermobile from Oscar Mayer was parked on a downtown street. This led me to wonder when the first such automobile took to the roads of America. I was surprised to see that it was actually in 1936. Yep! 1936- I mean, really, that long ago?
It was created by Oscar’s nephew, Carl Mayer to use for advertising purposes. The drivers have their own name- Hotdoggers- which cracks me up because when I think of hotdoggers, I think of dare devil kind of drivers- show offs, if you will. I don’t think you could pop a wheelie with one of this puppies, could you?
The drivers hand out Wienerwhistles shaped like the weinermobile. I had one of these whistles as a kid. I don’t eat hot dogs but I love the look and idea of this vehicle. A very clever AND long-lasting marketing ploy.
This week, we have a photo prompt. Don’t you love this photo?
I’m still working on the nameless rock and roll story. I haven’t been able to find a name I want/like and it’s starting to annoy me. LOL. Since we had the Super Moon this past weekend, this prompt is timely for sure.
Be sure to check out the other Tuesday Tales here.
Kat regretted her words to the singer almost as soon as she’d said them. She didn’t realize how rude she must have sounded until all the men at the table gaped at her in shock. Not being used to any of them thinking bad of her, she wanted nothing more than to back-peddle and not have said the words.
In an effort to reestablish the good mood of earlier, she stared up at the sky and pointed. “Look. Since the storm is over, the moon is out. Isn’t it gorgeous?”
“It’s full. No wonder people haven’t been acting normal.” Philip laughed. “Come on. I’m hungry. We don’t want to be late.”
Kat wasn’t sure if Philip’s words related to her and her rudeness earlier but she thought they might. Determined not to make a big deal about it, she grinned. “Maybe so. I guess you two know where this Charlie is?”
“We do. Come on.” Johnny led the way to his car. As they opened their doors, he said, “The moon is pretty, isn’t it? It lights up the whole area.”
“It’s always prettier to me after a storm.” Kat slid into the passenger side of the front seat.
“You two quit mooning over the moon and let’s go eat.” Philip got in the back seat behind Kat.
Johnny drove out of the parking lot and down the street.
Before she knew it, they were pulling into a parking lot in a strip mall. “What’s this?”
“Come on. You’ll see.” Philip led the way to the end of the building. There were no lights on in the front of the place and the closed sign was facing outward but he walked over and knocked on the door any way.
Kat looked up at the sign above the door. She read it out loud with a snicker. “Wok and Roll. Now that’s funny.”
On this day in 1804, Alexander Hamilton died at the hands of Aaron Burr in a duel in New Jersey- interestingly on the same field where Hamilton’s son died two years prior in a duel himself defending his father’s honor.
The two men were enemies of long-standing as Hamilton thought Burr was a dangerous person and campaigned actively against him when Burr ran for office. Burr vowed to challenge Hamilton to a duel for his actions in the campaign.
Back in that time, the president and vice-president didn’t run on the same ticket. The winner of the most electoral votes was named president and the one in second with number of votes became vice-president. Burr was the vice president when the duel took place.
Dueling was a common practice in those days as a way to defend honor. Usually, the dueling parties came to some resolution short of a duel to the death but in this case, it was not to be. There are conflicting stories to the details of the duel (one is that Hamilton shot into the air and the other is he shot at Burr but missed) but however it really went down, Hamilton was shot in the stomach by Burr and died the next day due to his wounds.
Burr was charged with murder in both in New Jersey where the duel took place and in New York where Hamilton died but he returned to Washington D.C. where he served out his term as vice-president, immune from prosecution.
Eventually Burr was charged with treason for other acts (acquitted on a technicality) he took but was never prosecuted for murder. He did become persona non grata and moved to Europe for a time. He lived until 1836- some 32 years after killing Hamilton.