Note-The American Dream—the ideal by which you have equal opportunity for your aspirations and goals to be achieved.

The freedom to achieve success with hard work and each according to their abilities to achieve success regardless of class or circumstances of birth.

***

After meeting Texas Guinan, the queen of speakeasies, I found myself again outside “The Meeting Place” tavern. I wondered who I would meet today!

I took a stool at the bar opposite a photo of the Dust Bowl in 1936. It showed farm equipment buried in dust. It was a depressing photo.

I ordered a beer and continued to study this tragic historical photo. A fella climbed onto the stool next to me. I studied him in the mirror behind the bar. He was a distinguished looking gentleman with dark hair, penetrating eyes and a mustache. He wore a tweed jacket over an open-collared shirt, dark trousers and black and white two-toned shoes.

He ordered a “Jack Rose” cocktail.

“I never heard of a drink like that,” I said.

“It’s an apple brandy based cocktail with lemon juice and grenadine. It’s my favorite drink,” said the fella smiling.

“Sounds good, I’ll have to try one later.”

We both took a sip of our drinks. I noticed he was looking sadly at the Dust Bowl photo.

“Must have been terrible times,” I commented.

“Yes, they were bad times, it was part of the Great Depression. I wrote a book about it. It was called, “The Grapes of Wrath.”

I drained my beer mug in one gulp!

“You’re John Steinbeck,” I stammered.

“Yes, the one and only,” he laughed.

“I’ve read the book and saw the movie with Henry Fonda.”

“It was a good adaptation of my book, but there was much more to the Depression, it was a complex time.”

I thought this was my chance to learn a few things about the 30’s by picking Steinbeck’s brain.

“Your book was a chronicle of the Depression. It was a damning commentary on the economic and social system that gave rise to the Depression. Did you do a lot of research about the plight of the Okies?”

“Oh yes, lots, I lived and worked with them and I made the journey with one family to California.”

“What is the interpretation of the title, “The Grapes of Wrath?”

“Well, the drought and dust destroyed a large part of agricultural production and farm jobs, which worsened the Depression. People were angry thus the wrath. The greed, self-interest and selfish ways of the landowners and banks in the 20’s came to a head. The grapes are a symbol of plenty and renewal. So, out of anger came renewal!”

“Bartender, give my friend here another “Jack Rose” and make one for me too.”

Steinbeck laughed, “We don’t drink to get drunk. We drink to enjoy life!”

“Hey, I like that saying. So, if I get a hangover it’s as a consequence not as a punishment!”

We both broke out in prolonged laughter.

“I liked the passage in your book when Grandpa says what he’s going to do when he gets to California and escapes the dust.”

“What passage is that?” said Steinbeck after taking a sip of the “Jack Rose”.

“ Well, Grandpa says, “I’m gonna pick me some grapes and I’m gonna squash ‘em on my face and let ‘em run down my chin. Then I’m gonna pick me a wash tub full of grapes and I’m gonna sit in ‘em, and scrooge around, and let the juice run down my pants!”

I took a sip of my cocktail and licked my lips.

“I think that is a very funny and sad passage.”

“Well, the book is about the struggles of men to accomplish a goal and something gets in the way like greed and self-interest, and then they get very angry.”

“I know the Depression started on October 29^th, 1929 with the Stock Market Crash. But what led up to it?”

“Well, by mid 1929, companies were losing their worth on the stock market. All through the 1920’s people were buying stocks on 90% credit, margin buying they called it. An individual could buy a stock with 10% of the cost and the broker would lend them the other 90%. Then they would use the promise of the stocks future earnings to buy more stocks. The system was abused and huge sums of imaginary money existed only on paper! People became “paper” millionaires. A credit buyer would hold the stock until the price went up and sell it for a profit. But the bubble burst in October of ’29. The value of stocks went up faster than the value of the companies the stocks represented. Panic selling started and prices fell. The brokers wanted their money repaid, but nobody could repay their debt. The market crashed and stocks lost 50% of their value!”

“Wow! A horror story of greed and carelessness in the 1920’s!”

“That’s right, my friend, but the Crash wasn’t the only cause.”

“I know people started to get panicky and withdrew their money from banks.”

“Right, over 9000 banks failed. Deposits were uninsured and people lost their savings! Then people stopped buying things, production went down and many jobs were lost. Unemployment was over 25%!”

“I remember my father telling me about the “soup kitchens” that sprang up to help feed the unemployed.”

“Yes, most served only soup and bread, some gave out coffee and doughnuts. Government unemployment relief was nonexistent!”

We both drained our cocktails.

“Was there any policy at that time with Europe that was part of the cause?”

“Yes, there was. As businesses went under, the government created a tariff to help protect companies. But this backfired because it led to less trade with other countries along with retaliation.”

“And this is where your book, “The Grapes of Wrath” about the Dust Bowl comes in.”

“Right, in the 20’s, farmers over-cultivated and over-produced on their land with the new mechanized methods. So, in the 30’s, the drought came with winds that blew all the topsoil away! Farms were sold for no profit or nothing at all, and people deserted the land. Food production went down which added to the woes of the Depression!”

“Your book tells us a lot about the greed and generosity in this depressing upheaval.”

“Yes, greed perpetuates itself but so does kindness. I tried to show the Depression on a human level.”

“This discussion reminds me of something you said that I read somewhere.”

“Oh yes? What’s that?” Steinbeck said eagerly.

“You said and I quote:

“It has always seemed strange to me…that the things we admire in men, kindness and generosity, openness and honesty, understanding and feeling, are connected with failure in our system.

And those traits we detest, sharpness and greed, meanness and acquisition, egoism and self-interest, are the traits of success.

And while men admire the quality of the first, they love the produce of the second.”

“I remember saying that. And that just about sums it up,” Steinbeck said as he walked out the door.

When I was out for my daily constitutional (my walk), I found myself outside “The Meeting Place”. This was the tavern where I met the “Meditation Lady” the other day (see The Meeting Place blogs). I went in. I was walking around looking at all the pictures and photos of historical events and famous people. When I stopped in my tracks, in front of me was a beautiful lady perched on a baby grand piano. She was dressed in a long slinky white sequined gown reminiscent of the 1920’s.

I glanced behind me and the bar was filled with women and men in “Jazz Age” garb! The beautiful lady said, in a seductive voice, “Hello Suckers!” Then everyone in the tavern shouted, “Hello Texas!”

She looked at me and said, “Pull up a chair and stay a while. Give this gentleman a drink.”

The bartender brought me a martini mixed with orange juice.

“Are you a butter and egg man?”

“What’s that? I said mumbling.

“That’s my way of asking do you have money?” She laughed.

“A little,” I said, “Say, what is this place?”

“This, my friend, is Texas Guinan’s speakeasy, and you’re looking at Texas Guinan in the flesh!”

I took a sip of my cocktail.

“I remember reading about you. You made about a million dollars in 1926 selling illegal booze in Prohibition.”

“You got it in one, Darling,” she laughed.

“You used to have a show of beautiful fan dancers, didn’t you?”

“Yes I did. They used to dance  between the tables close to the patrons. So I told the gents to give the ladies a big hand, which they did, of course!”

I took another sip of my drink and said, “Is there a back way out of here, just in case?”

“Oh yes, I think of everything.”

I could hear jazz music in the background.

She spoke again, “This was a good business when Prohibition came in. Bootlegging made me and the gangsters rich!”

She laughed and started clicking her fingers to the music. It was Charleston music coming from the jukebox.

All of a sudden, a lovely flapper came out of nowhere and was dancing. She had bobbed hair with a feathered headband, a fringey short dress and a sexy pair of heels. It was delightful to watch!

A gangster looking guy wearing a black pin-striped zoot suit and a fedora hat, grabbed the flapper and took her off to a dark corner!

“If I remember my history, in 1919, the 18^th Amendment was ratified. This prohibited the manufacture, sale and transportation of intoxicating liquors. It was called “The Noble Experiment.”

“Yes, that’s right. We got raided regularly. It was the suppliers, not the drinkers, that the cops were after,” said Texas.

I took another sip of my cocktail. I wondered if it was “bath tub gin”.

“Those goofy women of the Temperance Union created the stink. They didn’t like the saloons, that they said were destructive to family life and the factory work discipline.”

“Oh, I get it, Prohibition was put in for the public good.”

There was a lot of noise behind me. Then the police came storming in the front door.

“This is a raid, everyone stay where you are!”

I ran out the back way! Wow! What a “Roaring 20’s” experience that was. The great thing was that I met one of the big names of the Prohibition era. Too bad I didn’t get to see the fan dancers!

Coincidently, Texas Guinan died in 1933, and on the day after her death the government repealed Prohibition!

This was the second meeting of Writer Dave’s Classic Book Club. My four members, LLC, Tom, Linda, and Marla, were seated along with me, Writer Dave, in a semi circle around the fire in my lounge.

“We have read two books by Ernest Hemingway, “The Sun Also Rises” and “The Garden of Eden”. Tonight we will discuss them and the author Hemingway.”

“He was quite a character in real life, wasn’t he?” said LLC.

“Yes, he was. I’d call him “The Ultimate Artistic Personality.”

“And what does the “Artistic Personality” consist of?” said Tom.

“Well, Hemingway was a study in contrasts, and that’s what the artistic personality is, “conflicting and contrasting,” I commented.

“What are some of Hemingway’s contrasts?” said Marla.

“Well, over confidence alternating with shaky self- esteem is one. Another is, he had periods of sharp creative thinking alternating with confusion and apathy. He would seek out different types of people to be his friends then he would retreat into self-absorption. He also was very moody at times alternating with great levity.”

“Hemingway liked his pleasurable living and alcohol, didn’t he?” said Linda.

“That’s right, and he had a tendency toward extremes in his love life coupled with marital failure.”

I took a sip of my coffee and continued,

“What about his style of writing?”

It’s a simple, crisp, clipped, and very clean style,” said Marla.

“Right, he didn’t use many adjectives or adverbs. There are silences in his prose, that the reader has to fill in. This might help you understand the story more.”

“I always thought of Hemingway as the epitome of machismo,” said LLC.

“Yes, he was very macho, but, here’s the contrast again, he did have a soft, tearful side.”

Tom was smiling when he said, “Thinking about his heavy drinking, it reminds me of one of his quotes: “Always do sober what you said you’d do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut!”

We all laughed.

“Who will give us a short summary of “The Sun Also Rises?”

“It’s an autobiographical account of an American journalist living in Paris. It’s about the character, Jake, who suffered a war wound that left him impotent, and his love for Brett, and their escapades as the “Lost Generation.”

“Very good, LLC. Now, what about the themes?”

“Well, the characters seemed truly lost and aimless. WW1 ended traditional notions of morality, justice and faith. Life seemed to have no meaning to them as they wandered Paris,” said Linda.

“So, there was the loss of the macho image after WW1. The prewar ideal of the brave soldier was gone after they huddled in trenches being bombarded. They were just lucky, not brave, to survive,” said Tom.

Marla spoke up, “The heavy drinking was also a theme. They drank to escape reality and to increase their excitement.”

“All very good comments. Now, what are some of the meanings we can take away from this story?”

“What I came away with was, “Live life to the fullest” even if you feel lost. It doesn’t matter much what you do, as long as you have had your life. If you haven’t had that, what have you had,” said LLC.

“On the other hand, if you live your life flippantly, you have to pay the price. If we don’t value things, we have to pay for it,” said Tom.

We all took a break for coffee and biscuits.

Marla and Linda said they have dabbled in writing, so I spouted another Hemingway quote, “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and BLEED!” Now days it is a word processor.”

“Now lets discuss the other book we’ve read. “The Garden of Eden”, published posthumously and unfinished by Hemingway. The book was edited. This book is EXPLOSIVE Hemingway! It is EROTIC Hemingway!’

I let that statement sink in, the members were silent for a moment.

“Who wants to give us a short summary?”

“This book is about female desire unleashed to control a man called David, and how he breaks free to take control of himself again through his writing.”

“Very good, Tom. Now, how does the woman, Catherine, control David?”

“She uses the “ménage a trois” as a way of control. This is a two women and one man living arrangement,” said LLC.

“Anything else?” I prompted.

“Yes, Catherine wanted to control David’s writing, which was his core being, by telling him only to write “their” story, their Garden of Eden. She tried to destroy him by burning “his” stories,” said Marla.

“Now, how did David break free?”

“He broke free by re-writing “his” stories of Africa. His boyhood adventure with his father was a story Catherine knew nothing about and she was jealous of “his” story,” said Linda.

“And lastly, what was the ending of the story?”

“David ends up with Marita, the other woman in the “ménage a trois”. She understands David and his writing. She becomes the “perfect writer’s wife”, a woman eager to please and to arrange his life seamlessly, and with no needs or desires of her own. No interference with his writing,” said LLC.

“Now, what did we learn from this story?”

“Well, we learnt about the tragic and darker sides of hedonism, the belief that pleasure is the most important thing in life,” said Tom.

“Anything else?”

Linda spoke up, “Catherine’s bisexual ménage a trois was a way to control David sexually and every other way, including his writing.”

I took a sip of my coffee and said:

“In summing up, another view of this novel would be the concerns and themes of the writer. It is about ART, about creating, and about the craft of writing and the struggle of the writer to be true to his art. David had to write “his” African life story to remake himself. He had to abandon the frivolous story that Catherine wanted him to write only about them.”

The members pondered that statement for a minute.

“I’m ending with a Hemingway quote that applies to the protagonist in this story.

“THE WORLD BREAKS EVERYONE, AND AFTERWARD, SOME ARE STRONG AT THE BROKEN PLACES.”

Before Linda left, she said, “I hope there are DVD’s of these two books, I would like to get them.”

Because of the influence of the “Writer’s Corner” wine bar, with all the portraits of classic authors on the walls, I had an idea!

I would start up “Writer Dave’s Classic Book Club”. I wanted to get back into the classics, many of which I’ve heard of, but haven’t read. If I did read one, I didn’t uncover the hidden meanings of the book.

I would hold meetings at my house once a month to discuss a classic book that the members would read before the meeting.

I put an advert in the local paper and got back four replies, two men and two women:

LLC-a man that only went by his initials! He said he was retired and had done many things in his life.

Tom-an elderly gent, who said he was an amateur actor.

Linda-a middle-aged lady, who reads to escape her routine.

Marla-a young woman, just graduated from university. She was not sure what to do with her life, but she loved books.

A good group to discuss the classics intelligently. I told them our first book to discuss would be “The Great Gatsby” by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Our first meeting would be in a month’s time.

THE  FIRST  MEETING

We were all seated in a semi-circle around the fire in my lounge. Everyone had a cup of coffee and the discussion began.

“I’d like to start with a little background on the author, F. Scott Fitzgerald, 1896 to 1940. He lived only 44 years. He coined the phrase, “The Jazz Age” to describe the 1920’s. He and his wife, Zelda, were great party-goers until she got mentally ill. He was one of the American writers who were dubbed, “The Lost Generation”, along with Hemingway and Dos Passos.”

I was holding their attention, that was good!

“I am Writer Dave and I am as interested in the classics as you people are. I hope we will learn about and enjoy these books together. I first read “The Great Gatsby” many years ago, when I was in High School. I was 17 years old and it was required reading. We all have heard about these books, and maybe we’ve read a few, but most of us probably didn’t really understand them completely. There are lots of hidden insights to be extracted from the classics.”

“What is the definition of a classic?’ said LLC.

“That’s a good question. I like to think of a classic as a written work that is both “TIMELESS” and  “TIMELY”.  They have been read through the years but they have insights that are relevant even today!”

I took a sip of my coffee.

“Can someone give me a summary of the book in less than 100 words?”

LLC spoke up, “Poor Gatsby needs to obtain wealth to marry Daisy, his love. He becomes wealthy, gives lavish parties and finds her again, but she is married. They have an affair but Daisy finds out about his mysterious business dealings. She stays with her husband. Gatsby takes Daisy home from N.Y. in his car, but she drives. Daisy hits her husband’s mistress and kills her. The mistress’s husband finds out it was Gatsby’s car and shoots Gatsby and himself. Only Nick, the narrator, and Gatsby’s father attend the funeral. Complete disillusionment at the end.”

“Very good, LLC” The club members broke out in applause!

“Anything to add to that description?”

“The book was about the “American Dream” and Gatsby was a self-made man but by questionable means,” said Marla.

“Good answer. Now, what drove him on?”

“Greed and love, an explosive combination,” said Tom.

“Did you find yourself lost in the book, was it a page turner?”

“Oh yes, I was living the characters, second hand,” said Linda.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Linda. This story gives us a portrait of 1920’s wealth, parties, dreams and tragedy.”

I warmed everyone’s coffee up and continued:

“Was the book autobiographical? Yes, it was to a degree,” I answered my own question. “Fitzgerald and his wife, Zelda, lived a wild party life until the novelty wore out and Zelda got ill. She liked the good life so Fitzgerald needed to make money with his books.”

“I think all writer’s work is autobiographical to an extent. It’s like a map of their mind. You can understand what their concerns are, what their obsessions are, and what interests them,” said Marla.

“Marla, that is very true.”

“So, did you get any insights from The Great Gatsby?”

“The message I got was that we all hope we can free ourselves from our origins. In other words throw  off the shackles of “Class’’. We want to invent ourselves and shape ourselves through hard work. We are NOT measured by our parent’s background and class but what we make of ourselves,” said Tom.

“Well said, Tom.”

LLC spoke up, “I’d like to live the party life and dive into swimming pools with my whiskey on the rocks!”

We all laughed.

“Well, that lightened this discussion up,” I smiled.

“It was a story of flawed people pursuing happiness,” said Linda.

I warmed my coffee up and took a sip.

“I’d like to play the part of Gatsby,” said Tom smiling.

“The green light was mentioned in the novel, what was that all about?

“It was not just a green light that Gatsby saw across the bay, but a “GO” signal to meet the fulfillment of his dream with Daisy,” said LLC.

I continued the thought, “Also, I think Gatsby knew he would have to act fast and met the green light, which was the future, but year by year it recedes before us, less and less future!”

“So, to sum up, Gatsby didn’t get his gratification of the love of Daisy. The book is about the excesses of capitalism in the 1920’s. The “Dream” never measures up to the reality. The gratification never measures up to the dream!”

Linda got up and said, “I liked the story, I’m going to buy the DVD!”

I had just finished a chapter in my present, in process book. So, I thought I’d take a break.

I found myself in the “Writer’s Corner” wine bar. The other day I met a man that knew a lot about Benjamin Franklin in this place, filled with authors portraits.

I climbed up on a stool opposite the picture of Nathaniel Hawthorne. I ordered a large glass of red wine and studied the portrait. It was a very imposing picture of a man with sharp, structured facial features, and long dark hair flowing around his ears. Nathaniel Hawthorne, 1804-1864.

“Hello, do you come here often?”

It was the fellow sitting on the next stool. He sort of resembled the portrait of Hawthorne! He was dressed impeccably in a dark suit, white starched shirt and a dark bow tie.

“This is only my second time here,” I replied.

“Have you read much of Hawthorne’s work?” The fella said, pointing to the portrait.

“I’ve only read “The Scarlet Letter.”

“You should read his best short story, “Wakefield,” my drinking partner commented.

“I’ve never heard of it. What makes it so good?”

“It’s one of the strangest stories you will ever read. Also it has a hidden meaning in it!”

“Sometimes, when I finish a book, I don’t get the meaning. It’s a riddle to me.”

We both took long sips of our wine.

“There are times I wish I could call the author up on the phone and get his explanation.”

“You won’t have to do that, I’ll tell you about “Wakefield.”

“Please tell me, I’m all ears.”

I glanced up at Hawthorne’s picture, it was like it came alive! His eyes were boring through to my soul. It was weird!

My drinking partner continued, “Wakefield” is an odd story about a fellow walking out on his wife after 10 years of marriage. He felt he was a nobody.”

“Was adultery involved?” I said, smiling.

“No, nothing of the kind. This man settled down in a flat one block away in order to observe-for 20 years-the effect he was having and then he returned to his wife!”

“Wow! That is strange!”

“You bet it’s strange. This is not your standard mystery: there are no secrets, no corpses, no ghosts, not even a romance! Just an exit, a vigil, and a return!”

“Bartender, give us a bottle of this wine, this explanation is going to take a while,” I said, “We will share.”

My partner smiled. “Thank you, very much.”

“So, what have we got so far? An ordinary man, a Mr. Nobody, leaves his spouse, for 20 years, to spy on her. He wanted to see the impact of his absence!”

I re-filled both of our glasses and said, “Now, I want to know, WHY DOES WAKEFIELD LEAVE HIS WIFE?”

“That’s a good question, why do you think?”

“Well, 10 years of marriage, maybe a mid-life crisis! Maybe he is a sadist and wants to play a nasty trick on his wife.”

“It could be those reasons, but I don’t think so.”

“Why then?” I said, wanting to know badly.

“He leaves to UNDERSTAND himself!”

“We all want to understand ourselves.”

“That’s right, but in life we can’t really do that. Who can tell us who we are? YOU are always in the way of that understanding.”

I sipped my wine and pondered that thought.

“So, that is probably why Wakefield left, so he wouldn’t be in the way!”

“I think you’ve got it!” said my bar stool mate.

“When he returns home after 20 years, he felt he had found himself. By removing himself from the picture, he saw how people reacted when they thought he was gone and then presumed dead.”

We both stared up at Hawthorne’s portrait.

“So, Wakefield was no more a Mr. Nobody. He was a Somebody, in his mind.

“We all should go on a visionary project to find ourselves, to look beyond and see things we don’t know, living so close to one’s self!”

“So my friend, that is the hidden meaning in “Wakefield”, Hawthorne’s brilliant short story.”

I sipped my wine and thought about my conversation with this man I had just met.

“I want to understand myself also. So this odd story leaves me asking:

HOW DID THE AUTHOR KNOW THAT ABOUT ME?”

I saw an advert in my local newspaper for a new wine bar that also served food. It was opening up not far from me. It was called, “The Writer’s Corner”. Since I am a writer, the name intrigued me.

The next day I visited “The Writer’s Corner”. I walked into a large room with a long bar with 20 stools along one wall. The rest of the room was filled with booths along another wall and tables and chairs in the middle. There was a luxurious red carpet throughout and the walls were wood paneled. There was low ceiling lighting. But what really struck me were all the pictures of writers lining the walls. There were at least 50 pictures, ranging from Franklin, Emerson, and Poe to Tennessee Williams, Arthur Miller and Don DeLillo!

I sat at the bar opposite a large picture of Ben Franklin. I ordered a glass of red wine. Franklin was not only one of the Founding Fathers of America but an accomplished writer also.

The fellow next to me was heavy-set with an oval face, thin wire spectacles and long brown hair down to the top of his shoulders. He was dressed in a black suit.

“Nice place they opened up here?” I remarked.

“Yes, it is. It makes you feel like you are among the literary greats.”

“We’re sitting by Franklin’s picture, have you read any of his work?”

“Oh yes, all of it! From the “Autobiography” to “Poor Richards Almanac” through to the “13 Virtues.”

“Boy, you’re a student of Ben Franklin!”

“You could say that,” he smiled.

“I think Franklin believed in the “self-made man,” I ventured, trying to show my knowledge.

“Yes, he did. He was a self-made man. He was a man coming from humble beginnings and he achieved success through his own hard work and ingenuity. He had accomplished many achievements during his lifetime.”

I took a sip of my wine and savored it while I studied the Franklin picture. He had the look of a wise man.

“I like his proverbs in the Almanac.”

“Which ones do you like?”

“I like, “There are no gains without pains”, and “One today  is worth two tomorrows,” I said, enthusiastically.

“Yes, I like those too,” he said, smiling.

“I believe Franklin signed the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United States.”

“Yes, he not only signed them, he actually wrote parts of them. He was a true “Yankee.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that!”

I took a sip of my wine.

“He believed in the virtuous life, didn’t he?”

“Yes, that’s why he wrote the 13 Virtues for people to follow.”

My friend drank the last of his wine.

“I have to leave now. I’ve had my two glasses of wine.”

“Oh yes, one of the virtues was “Temperance.”

“That’s right, my friend, “Eat not to dullness and drink not to elevation.”

With that statement he left.

I finished my wine staring at Franklin’s picture and I thought:

I WONDER IF I HAVE BEEN ACTUALLY TALKING TO BENJAMIN FRANKLIN!

It was foggy that day, but suddenly the fog lifted and the sun came out. I was on that strange street I encountered the other day! Down the road was that tavern, “The Meeting Place”. I went in.

I scanned the room, the bar was empty, but I had a feeling I wasn’t alone! Where was the “lady in the mirror? My heart sank.

There was a song playing on the jukebox. “We’ll Meet Again” with Vera Lynn singing.

Then I spotted her, in a far corner, at a table for two. She was dressed in red not black like the time before. She was staring into a mirror that flanked the table on two sides.

I slowly approached her and she saw me coming in the mirror. I saw her expressive face smiling at me!

“Remember me?” I said, sitting next to her so we were both facing the mirror.

“Oh yes, I remember you, that’s why I’m here!”

The bartender came over. I ordered two glasses of red wine.

“Why did you come back?”

“I said we would meet again and I would help you with your problems!”

She put her hand on mine. It was an electric moment! Her eyes in the mirror were smoldering.

“You were into meditation, right?” I said, taking a sip of wine.

“Yes,  meditation for the body, mind, and soul! Now, what’s your problem?” she whispered, her face close to mine!

“Well, I get frustrated and anxious when I wonder what’s my purpose in life, what’s meaningful to me, and what’s the point of it all?”

“What you need to do, my friend, is open your chakras!”

“ What are chakras?”

She squeezed my hand and I felt a tingling sensation in my fingers!

“Chakras are centers of energy, located on the midline of your body. They govern your psychological properties. Instinctual and High Mental.”

I signaled the bartender to bring us a bottle of wine. He came and re-filled our glasses.

“If you can open your crown chakra, you will release the wisdom to figure out your problem. But you must meditate hard and look for the answer, it will come.”

“What should I do?”

“We will hold hands and close our eyes and be still. You think about the answer to your problem.”

She whispered into my ear, “Be still, be still,” and then brushed her lips on my cheek!

A few minutes of silence followed. She broke the silence and said:

“It was not into your ear, I whispered, but into your heart.

It was not my lips that kissed you, but my soul!”

She kept holding my hand.

“Did you come up with an answer to your problem?”

Her eyes were burning me through the mirror.

“Yes, I think I have come up with my purpose and meaning. I’m a writer, and through my writing, my readers might come to a better understanding of themselves and the world. There is truth in fiction! Through my writing, things will become clearer to me too!”

She smiled.

“I’m so glad I met you, I feel better in my skin now. I don’t want to lose you. I need your support.”

She touched my cheek with her warm hand and said:

“Just think of me and I will always be walking with you through life!”

I looked in the mirror and the only person I saw was myself! She was gone!

The bartender came over and said, “You owe me $10 for the wine!”

I was out for a walk one afternoon and I turned down a street that I have never been on before! I was in unfamiliar territory, or was I? There was a tavern at the end of the road called, “The Meeting Place”.  I was intrigued, so I went in.

There was a long bar with stools and a few tables and chairs and an old jukebox. The walls were full of pictures of past historical events and past famous people!

There were some people talking at the tables. But there only was one lady sitting at the bar. She was staring seriously at herself in the huge mirror behind the bar.

I sat next to her and ordered a beer. The bartender served me my beer and eyed me up and down! I took a sip of my beer and I stared at the lady in the mirror.

She was an attractive mature lady dressed in black, with grey hair cut short, framing her face. She had an interesting face, like she had seen and experienced many things!

“Hello, my name is Dave, do you come here often?”

“No, this is my first time. I got lost on this street and wandered in here for a drink.”

“Same here, I don’t think I’ve been on this street before.”

We both looked at each other’s eyes in the mirror.”

“What do you do when you’re not getting lost?” I smiled.

“I’m into meditation,” said the lady, still looking into the foggy mirror.

“That’s interesting, when I turned down this street my mind was drifting. I felt like I was in a special state, about halfway between being awake and sleeping. After being in this daze, I felt I had been down this street before but I didn’t know when!”

The lady in the mirror smiled at me.

“Has any strange things happened to you?”

“Oh yes, one time, at midnight, I got a phone call from someone asking me out on a date! I asked him what a young man, like him, was doing asking me out. He asked me, how I knew he was young. So I described his looks on the phone. He hung up and never called again!”

“That’s sort of scary! Maybe the young man thought you were some kind of witch!”

My lady in the mirror laughed!

“No, I’m not a witch. I just am able to see things. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I do and I find you very interesting. You could probably help me with some of my problems!”

“I believe I could help you. We all experience what we believe!”

She got up to leave and touched my hand.

“I have to go but I’m sure we will meet again. If you think of me hard enough when you are meditating, I will help you with you problems.”

Then she was gone! I looked into the mirror again and closed my eyes and I saw her in my minds eye.

“Hey, buddy, are you alright?”

It was the bartender shaking me.

“Yes, I’m alright. I was just meditating.”

“Oh, it looked like you were doing nothing but dozing.”

I said, “The great thing about meditation is that it makes doing nothing RESPECTABLE!”

I was having lunch at a restaurant with a friend and he was telling me about an acquaintance of his that was sick and would require a long drawn out treatment. The treatment would not be pleasant and it would go on for weeks!

“He knows he will have to endure it to the end so he can feel good again.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but there are ways of thinking to help him get through this bad period.”

“What are they?’ My friend asked eagerly.

The waiter came over and asked if we were ready to order.

“Not just yet, but you can bring us a bottle of the house red wine, please.”

“Well, let me start by saying there is something in the center of our being that is a kind of wisdom that sees beyond sickness and unhappiness. It is the part of you that is POSITIVE. It is the part of you that isn’t disturbed when the circumstances of your life go sour.”

We both took a sip of our wine.

“How does this deep part of us stay positive?”

“This place I’m talking about is the center core of you where contentment lives. It is NOT interested in what happens, it is interested in how you RELATE to what happens. In this case your friend’s sickness that requires arduous treatment.”

“How do you tap into this deep core?”

“This core is concerned with your healthy functioning. You have to think good thoughts and you can do this because you are the creator of your thoughts.”

My luncheon mate looked worried.

“But my friend is feeling quite a bit of emotional pain, having to face up to this treatment.”

“That’s why it’s important to concentrate on what kind of thoughts you are having about the illness. It’s the negative thoughts about the condition that creates the emotional pain!”

“I’m confused, it’s so difficult to deal with illness!”

“Of course it’s difficult, BUT, the fact that you MUST see the treatment to the end is all the more reason to think positively and live through it with a peaceful inner feeling, rather than to be eaten up by the illness.”

“Okay, how do you get this good feeling even though you are ill?”

“You vow to yourself that you are going to enjoy every moment as much as you can regardless of the illness and treatment. Think thoughts that inspire you to soldier on. The treatment isn’t going to last forever! Good thoughts will make you feel good. Such is the power of THOUGHT!”

My friend was shaking his head.

“Okay, so how do you get rid of negative thoughts?”

“Your DISMISS them and put good thoughts in your head. You have that CHOICE.”

“It seems to me you’re talking about denying your illness.”

“No, I’m not talking about denial. I’m saying if you are sick you must face the truth. But you don’t have to ruin every moment with bad thinking about your condition. Negative thinking breeds suffering. Try to enjoy the present until the end of the treatment. It will pass quickly. Remember, the NOW is all anyone has.”

“So what’s your final thought on this matter before we order lunch,” said my friend, looking relaxed.

“Know you have the choice to feel good through good thoughts. Live in the present and enjoy it.”

“LETS EAT, I FEEL BETTER ALREADY!”

I was in my Scriptorium (study) writing my second novel when the doorbell broke my train of thought.

It was my Long Lost Cousin (LLC), who I hadn’t seen for a few weeks. I almost thought he was going to become “long lost” again after we have been re-united!

I ushered him into the lounge.

“Hi cousin, what have you been up to lately?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Well, I just finished posting my current blog.”

“Oh, I was going to ask you how you come up with your blog stories? They are very interesting.”

“Well, I try to write blogs that are relevant and topical, about issues that affect people. I create a character with a problem that puts them in conflict with themselves (in their mind) and others. Then comes the narrative and dialogue tension. I try to help the character through their problem (through research) which is interesting information for the reader. I inject some humor, but there is always a serious side to the story. I do all this in about 500 to 600 words!”

“Boy! Cousin, that’s a terrific recipe for a short post.”

“I think so,” I smiled.

“I notice a few classics on your bookshelf. What is a classic, anyway? And what makes them interesting to you?” LLC looked pensive.

“You are full of questions today!”

“Yes, I feel like expanding my brain today!” LLC said laughing.

“Not so long ago, I met an interesting fella at a literary lunch. He told me he had read many of the classics in literature in his life and he talked constantly about them.”

My cousin looked very interested in my tale.

“This chap held all of us at the table spellbound! When we mentioned a book he would tell us the deeper meaning of the story in his opinion.”

He was better than all the speakers that day!

“This chap whet my appetite to do some study of the classics myself. And the first question I had, was just like you, what is a classic?”

“Well, I’m glad I asked an intelligent question,” smiled LLC.

“Shall we have a drink, cousin? Whiskey on the rocks?”

“Oh, that sounds great.”

I brought our drinks and we both savored our first sip!

I continued, “A classic is a written work that is TIMELESS and TIMELY! They’re NOT stale and dusty as some people think. Many of us have grown up with these stories but really didn’t understand their deeper meanings.”

“So cousin, reading the classics will help us understand history better and make it come alive.”

“That’s exactly correct. The classics have insights in them that challenge us, today and tomorrow!”

“So, the ideas in the classics are timeless and topical.”

“Right cousin, hence, Shakespeare is for “all the ages!”

We both pondered that thought while we took another sip of our drink.

“What are you into at the moment as far as studying the classics?”

“At the moment I’m into the American classics. Reading these books is like a window into the culture of the time the author was writing in.”

“So, you will learn a lot about America?”

“Right on, cousin. The American classics are the STORIED past of the country.”

“What will you be reading about?”

“I’ll be reading about the Salem Witch Trials, the Revolutionary War, the Civil War, the Gold Rush, the Great War of 1914-1918, the glitzy 20’s and the depression 30’s. Stories of human experience in these times, so we understand them better.”

“So, they will supply you with the “inside” story.”

“Yes, they will because the events will appear to us through the author’s writing, as the dynamics of living people in the stories, rather than facts and dates that people memorize!”

“It all sounds very interesting. I think I will get into the classics.”

We both finished our whiskeys.

“Yes, by all means get started on the classics. You will learn so much. For example, the decline of values after WW1 and then the Great Depression come to us in the descriptive writing of Fitzgerald, Hemingway and Steinbeck. These authors speak in their moment and give us understanding of the past that echoes right up to the present!”

“I can’t wait to get started.”

“Good for you, cousin. Enjoy the world of classic literature.”

There was a moment of silence as if everything we were discussing was sinking into our minds, like a sponge!

“Someone once said, “A classic is a book that has never finished saying what it has to say!”

“Hey! I like that quote,” said LLC as he was leaving.

“One final thought before you go:

WHEN YOU READ A CLASSIC, THE AUTHOR TRANSFORMS HISTORY INTO UNDERSTANDING!”