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How Time Flies

My last post touched upon one aspect in the life of a man in retirement–the needs for companionship, conversation, and the intangible need to get out of the house for a spell. We all dream of retirement and when it finally comes
we find ourselves unprepared for ‘idle’ time. In many ways I never actually retired . . . I moved on to something new and exciting as many often do. I always wanted to write and now had the time to give a whirl. I never imagined that I would soon be publishing novel number twelve (along with three children’s stories). But, as consuming as writing has been, I’ve learned that my creative time is about three hours–about 2000 words–in the early mornings. Then another hour or two on publishing business related to the books. By noon I’ve reached ‘burn out’ and the need for fresh air and movement. I walk, I bike, I garden (in the Minnesota summer and the Florida winter) and I read. Then, usually, another walk and after dinner a movie. If I were to remember and/or make a list of all the movies I’ve watched–mostly on TV or rentals–I’m sure it would be considerably more than the books I’ve read. Last week I watched ‘Hacksaw Ridge’ and a comedy ‘Keeping up With the Jonses’. A quality movie can move me to tears–as did Hacksaw Ridge–or elicit a belly laugh as did the ‘. . . Jonses’. One day I will do a blog on my all-time favorite flicks. Near the top of the list would be the historic classic ‘Doctor Zhivago’ and the western ‘Lonesome Dove’. And one day I’ll list my favorite novels. (None of which were penned by yours truly I must confess). I marvel at masterful writers–their prose, their style, and the emotions they elicit in me. Somewhere near the top of my list would be ‘The Edge of Sadness’ (1961) by Edwin O’Connor–a book I selected for our book club.
Just a few weeks ago several of us gathered at the home of Ed Beckers for our monthly book club meeting. Ed had selected a ‘thriller’ titled WITHOUT MERCY (Hunt and Pineiro) and our literary gentlemen discussed the story, opined on numerous subjects related to the plot-lines and their realistic, albeit hypothetical, potentials, while enjoying the typical banter of our group. This has been going on for years–nearly 45 of them already!
Four of us began the idea of such a club in my living room back in the seventies (370 books ago) and Ed and I have become the senior members of what has come to revered as The Greater Mesaba Men’s Book Club. I do have a link–GMMBC-where all of our book selections are listed from our first to our last. If the years have brought inevitable changes in membership we have maintained a core group who regard our monthly get-togethers as reverently as a practicing Catholic does his Sunday Mass. At this writing our group numbers eleven mostly old men.
But we do more than meet in livingrooms. Each spring we are invited to Rich Dinter’s lake home on Crane Lake for a weekend of all sorts of things–including imbibing in spirits, gambling, gaming, and boating. Some of which is best described in the past tense. Vanishing over time are the cases of beer along with Ouzo and/or Hennesey’s and poker into the wee hours of the morning. In the fall we are treated to Paul Dorsher’s Cross Lake home for much the same. Both men are marvelous hosts. In this past year both Rich and Paul have joined the ranks of the retired along with Ed Glenn, Keith and I.
Life is good and God is Great.

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