Brownstonelit's Blog

8/30/11

Today is a
day to be quiet inside and divine what it is that lies ahead. I have a choice
to make that I cannot turn a blind eye to:

To make a call, or to keep to myself.

The information that needs to be prompted is
too important, so at the risk of alienating myself from a stranger or
disappointing Charley… I will choose Charley every time and make the call!

And maybe
that was the real message behind the church sign the other night. Maybe that
call was important- but this call imperative!

I will make
the call today and let you know what becomes of such a bold action.

Still
looking for a sign that I am on the right track… still searching for another
feather.

8/29/11

I’m hoping
that today will bring some guidance. I have some information that I am wanting
to share, but need for the right people to read it.

What was in
the lunch box? The silver gray one that ‘he’ carried about the house all day?
The one that went from room to room with him? You opened it- you saw what was
inside and it made no sense to you… why did he have that? What was it doing
inside a lunch box and where was he planning to go with it?

You know
that I know now… before he slips away… ask him. Get to the truth and then
tell them. They have your number and they are waiting. The bottom line son?
Either you tell them… or I do.

Tell the
truth… give him dignity before the fates give him death without it!

Today began wonderfully and now I am not so certain it will end in quite the same way. Did you ever think that maybe you were supposed to be doing something else… to pay the bills? Maybe on another ladder to the stars… a higher rung? To try to get more $$ in your back pocket to make the stretch between checks not so tight… to serve better hours so you wouldn’t be on the roads so late at night? So you can do all those other crazy things you think you are supposed to be doing like, going to school and working hard, enjoying your family, paying your bills…

Well, I have tried twice now in the last few months to be effective in a new course of action.  But I guess I should just leave things to the fates, because the energies spent apparently will not be paying off.   I was hoping to hear good things this week about a new path…looking for a break… some relief. 

I am now faced with receiving quite the opposite results in kind.

That would explain the message I saw this morning on the same church as “Make the call now!” message of last week.

 Today it read:

“Where God leads you… he needs you.”

I get that… I do.

But what happens when you and God have a difference of opinion, because where you are doesn’t allow for fastidious solutions to your problems? At least… the kind of solutions you understand?

So I wait for an explanation. Until then… faith?

8/25/11

Ok, so yesterday was kind of a bummer for some of you, but then for me it was a day of massive epiphanies that just kept flowing with every stroke of the metaphorical pen and as much as I wanted to share… I simply could not. No offense meant. You just need to understand this is part of my process and while I often like to believe I am in control of what comes through- that’s just not true. Yesterday was a huge day in regards to timelines and segues and so while I cannot publish here, know well that they have been duly noted and appropriately applied. Now onto this blog!

Yesterday was a long day that included a 12 hour work day and an hour commute both to and from. As my scenery is awesome once home- I don’t mind, but on long days it makes for droopy eyes late at night behind the wheel. Approaching the last 20 minutes of my leg, I hit an intersection of a tiny town that has a church on the northern side of the block that tends to have curious verbiage posted on occasion.

The last occasion that spoke to me was the one that said, “What are you waiting for? He needs you now!” Of course when placed in tandem with my mental conversation with Charley at the exact moment I previewed it…  I knew it meant I should start writing! I heeded its warning and did, just as it had instructed. Now comes the information that it held last night!

With the radio station drifting in and out and no cell service to speak of… I was eager for entertainment to keep myself from driving off the road. As I approached the stop sign for that intersection I saw a pair of headlights coming from the north end of the block and decided I would let them pass before entering and making my turn south towards home and my warm, comfy bed! The car slowed and without signal made an abrupt turn onto the street just before the intersection and annoyed but not angry- I made a comment about his inability to use proper signaling and stuck out my tongue. (It is amazing the things one will do for entertainment when left alone in a car too late at night!) Anyway, as I started to turn my attentions back to the intersection and my approach, I noticed the church sported a new message on its sign.

Now my dear readers, you know me well enough so it shouldn’t surprise you that this random saying meant to provoke thought for the masses, posted by a person who has no knowledge of my existence… did so because this message was directly intended for me! Ready?

“Make the call now!”

What? You don’t get it?

Well… at 11:43 at night neither did I! I must have sat at that intersections for four minutes laughing. What the hell was that supposed to mean to me? What call? To who and about what? And furthermore, who the devil was I gonna call at that hour of the night? Once merrily through the intersection and on my way home I pondered the sign further. It was too random, to be random… if you catch my drift? When messages make absolutely no sense what-so-ever, I know they are most definitiely meant for me and I was right!

I finished my ride in silence and exhausted, pulled into the drive- noted the time and laughed…12:12 PM. Charley was an idiot- but I enjoy that kind of humor so I baited him. You  let me know who I’m supposed to call at this hour of the night and buddy- I’ll flat out do it! With that I put my key in the door and went inside. Ten minutes later, I checked my emails… nothing there, so I winked at my 8×10 friend and whispered, “Nice try buddy, but you got nothin! No messages… and it’s now several minutes after midnight. Goodnight.”

Satisfied I had the upper hand, I smiled kissed him on his cheek and bid him peaceful dreams. Too bad he did not wish me the same! Teeth brushed, face scrubbed I plugged my phone into my office plug and made my way for the bedroom… all the while rationalizing that if there was an emergency- they could reach me through my husband’s phone in the bedroom on his nightstand. Ever so quiet I slipped into bed and juggled tails and legs of 4 dogs before making solid contact with my pillow. I closed on eye and then the other- checking first to see if he was going to make a persoanl appearance and when no shadows presented other than clothing and furniture, I tried to commit to sleep.

As a mother, one cannot rest if one senses that someone might need  you in the middle of the night and you cannot be reached- especially in my case with the middle child. To ease my concerns, I rolled over and asked my darling husband if he had his phone turned on and he drowsily replied, “Yes… but I think I left it in the car.”

Great!

I rolled over telling myself that things would be fine- that no one would have an emergency just because I did not have a phone nearby- that I could sleep one night without a phone by my bed… WRONG! Every time I closed my eyes I heard phantom ringing and feared the worse. After four or five minutes I could not close my eyes and so went and pulled my phone ½ charged and crawled back into bed. No sooner than I had done so- than a text came through from a person I had received information from before who I had recently contacted for more information.

The text read:

“…I’m working midnight shifts… if you’re up and would like to talk… call now.”

Still think I’m crazy?! I did too for about 13 minutes before Charley and his message from the church- “Make the call now!” drove me insane! Now well past midnight, I gathered myself in a ball, grabbed glasses and phone and with housecoat and a cold cup of coffee went out on the porch to stare at the lights on the lake and gather till after 1:30 in the morning!

Was it worth it?

Yep!

How do you know?

I wrote another blog last night, but you can’t read it! It had too much information!!! LOL

I wrote a blog today, but you can’t read it.

It had too much information in it!

Sorry…

8/19/11

OK… so it happened again last night! Anxious to pick back up the threads, I rushed home, ate and then went straight to my laptop. Those of you who write know that a muse is a cruel mistress and if denied… will snub you and move on to someone more flexible within their response. The words simply poured from my fingertips and when September of 2010 chapter was finished, I moved on. While I was reviewing notes from last October for the book, several long lost tid bits came to my attention. With hindsight now 20/20 in my rear view mirror… I began to parse and sent a few questions to R. I knew she was busy and so did not expect to hear back from her any time soon and that was ok, because I was on a roll. Clue after clue flashed before my eyes and happy to be under the spell, I wrote like a woman whose hands were on fire. Several questions later, I had to go back to my email files and in doing so found that R had apparently hopped on line. I opened the email and my jaw dropped to the floor. Those who have been silent for these past weeks have finally found their voice again and the rapture of their cacophony was sweet music to my ears. Earlier in the evening I had been reviewing the Google Earth site of the final resting place of Rox’s bones and an information exchange now 10 months old:

TA: “…How did they get here to this pond with the trees? Truck? Car? How did they get her into the water? Boat- or is it shallow enough that __________and the others could have walked through it to bury her in just his boots? Is this why they wore flannel? To keep from being cut up in the cypress trees? Or pretending to go hunting with one another to bury her? Why is there blood left on the shovel? Did they hit her first- or strangle her first? Why the compass? So they could find her again if they had to move her?” Her response was chilling.

R: “…Interesting. What was the significance of that compass? ___________ knew about the compass right? I feel like the water was right near where they would have killed her. I can tell you they simply rolled her into the water. Concentrate on the ___________ guy, There is more there…”

I have often referred to the rear window approach in this investigation… Hindsight baby! Hindsight is a beautiful thing! We now know that e shovel and the compass were tied to Jessica… not Rox. So when I finished with that, I sent several other questions that came to mind after reviewing even older information; I sent her this, referencing the above dialogue in a series of inquiries that happened on October 12th, 2010. Last night I sent her the following:

TA: “…Remember this? Can ____________give us anything more about the compass and the bloody shovel? Was her husband,______________ one of the 4 in flannel??? He was with all those guys: F_______, C____________, P_________, S__________…? If the MOT will not speak… can we learn why? If he cared for Roxanne… why won’t he help her now? Can we find out what happened to the watch he got from Rox? Does __________say if Theodore __________ (the purple orchid brooch thief!) is still alive… in Valdosta??? Just curious…”

It was really nothing. It’s just part of my process to ruminate over things, put them down and come back weeks or months later when I have more to add to the pile and the process starts all over again. Sometimes I communicate with her about just small nodules of regurgitated concerns and pander shamelessly for further confirmation and/or clarification on specific scenarios that remain unsettled in my stomach. What came back though was vomited from a place I cannot access directly…

R: “…I am not going to respond to direct questions but just open it up to anyone and anything…

Who was the sheriff at the time of Charley’s murder?

___________may be the one who entered Charley’s office that night.

____________may be the one who killed MOT…

__________had an, ‘… if you want something right do it yourself…’ attitude.

He volunteered to do these things like he was the one who could do it right.

December 23rd…

Grim may get in a car accident, but will only be injured…

_______________says she repeatedly heard them talk about it over the years, more in whispers like they did not think she could hear but she could.

Cherry Street – what is this? Have we talked about it before? Feels tied to Roxanne.

The man by the fence that passed says something about he might have seen a group out in the field around October 12th.

Ok I know this sounds weird but is there a piece of paper in Charley’s stuff that looks like it has weird symbols like hieroglyphics? It’s something Hazel had that she put in with other items. She keeps saying, ‘the whole time I had it…'”

The whole time she had what???!!! With a response like that, I paused in my efforts and immediately began to dissect every box, bag and envelope in my Charley arsenal. What did Hazel consider as mock heiroglyphics? To paraphrase a line from my favorite film, The Field of Dreams (How apropos?), ‘When the universe is speaking, it is best not to quibble over details!’ So, I didn’t! What I did do was canvass every bit of information I had that I could connect to Charley. In doing so, I kept a keen eye out for every white envelope- knowing the two must be tied somehow. ‘A white envelope that had marking like hieroglyphics.’ What were the odds?

My mouth began to salivate as I found the first of two letters that were written in old shorthand. The structure was odd and exotic looking. I could not read it, but there were a few words that appeared within the script in legible format… “killed”… the number “3” and a few others. As excited as I was, it felt wrong. Hazel had known shorthand. Hell, every woman back then knew it as most ended up employed in offices where dictation was required and shorthand became second nature. And after another fifteen minutes, I found several onion skinned letters to Senator Talmage and another person echoing some of the same words in the approximate sentence structures and decided my gut had been right- the heiroglyphics of shorthand were not what I was supposed to be looking for. I decided to set them aside and continued my search.

Forty-five minutes and thirty nine other white envelopes later, I found a white envelope that had squiggles on it…not like the shorthand though. This was more like someone had picked up a pen and it ran out of ink and they kept swirling it about to get more ink to flow. I immediately discounted it, as it did not meet my bar of ‘hieroglyphics’ association.

Curious though, and remembering Charley’s remanding to “open the white envelope- just open it…” I did. I pulled out the paperwork within. Nothing struck me as unusual until I saw what it was, the dates and something else that tripped a light in my head! This was a Georgia Department of Labor form on a man 61 years of age who had worked for Charley as a carpenter from March of 1966 till May of 1966. His name? Not necessary for you to know… but Charley wanted me to know. I stared at this paper for more than ten minutes, trying to divine segue and then it hit me. A clue that went back even further than the notes I had been working on rushed back into my head. “Do you understand the man who dies of a heart attack in bed? He is in his 60’s. He dies sometime around the time of Charley’s death? The trail will lead to MOT…” Now no one is more accustomed to the twists and turns of this case than me. I have been hit over the head by the cosmos so many times; I have nothing left to buffer my brain from their divine intervention. Even now I chance to look up at Charley’s 8×10 and wonder just what the hell is going on. If my intuitions are correct… and I have yet to have them proven so far from the path… Damn. I am even reticent to put this in print. What if the records were wrong on purpose? What if the man on the death certificate is not who we think he is? What if the MOT is not the same as the sir name printed? What if the body found in the Daniel Ashley hotel, beaten to death is not the same name of the paperwork and that is why they rushed and went from discovery to burial in less than 24 hours? And that includes a transfer of the body from Valdosta to Augusta? Was this is why I have never been internally pressed to follow the trail of the Mot further. Why after several initial searches for the MOT’s family name in the Augusta area… I came back empty handed? Is this the reason why they “quarantined” his body? Because it wasn’t even who they said it was?

My head hurt at the possible ramifications? Another body? Another search? Another round of inquiries and another set of dead ends? (No pun intended!) If the trail leads to the MOT… then who really was the MOT? I thought I knew. I thought the man was correctly documented on the funeral home papers? But what if that was a lie too? What if the Mot wasn’t who I have been led to believe he was? What if the MOT is another man whose identity was hidden from view until now??? Frantic for more information, I continued to read and write until about 1:00 am and then when I could see no more… I tried to go to bed.

When I went to get undressed, I pulled my shirt off over my head and there in my face was another black silhouette and I screamed. Ok, so even though I continue to ask for physical confirmation… I basically suck at this thing. Here I was; my head about to explode with multiple plausibility and I was trying to be quiet as possible and not wake up my husband or the dogs and then I scream like an idiot and wake everybody in the house! LOL

Today I will write and think and research and pray that one of the few, step to the plate and save my head before I spontaneously combust!

8/16/11

The morning air is cool and the water on the lake clear and smooth and the sun is just spreading its fingers towards the shoreline… this is a day to stay home and reap the benefits of nature, but alas… duty calls!

In truth I would have loved the prospect of staying at home to ruminate over something that happened yesterday. The theatre has brought many interesting and fascinating people into my life and I have been blessed by their passions and their presence upon the stage. Yesterday I saw a feather on the floor of the theatre and laughed to myself. Now, you know my feather segue, right? That when one is placed in your path it is a sign of a forthcoming message or important information and so one must remain alert? Well, the reason why I laughed was because this was not a bird feather as is generally understood to be the bearer of such gifts… this was a feather from a costume boa and while wildly appropriate for me- I worried that perhaps my preoccupation with such, meant I was seeing shadows where there were none!  

In order for this to make sense to you… let’s go back just a few hours. The night prior, exhausted from 2- 12 hours days back to back, I got home from the theatre after 11:30 PM and so by the time I took care of toiletry issues and what-not… it was after midnight before I got into bed.  Falling asleep wasn’t the issue; it was staying asleep that became the trick!

Normally when there is some sort of “extra” activity in the house, it is the Westie that perks up her ears. That night however, it was the miniature Dachshund Schnitzel that cleared a path from the bottom of the bed to my shoulder and proceeded to watch the air above me with rapacious curiosity. At first I thought he had heard something outside the window… another dog calling in the night from afar. I listened, but heard nothing but the endless drone of my husband’s C-PAP machine. I sat up a bit further to increase my awareness and then noticed that his sightline adjusted with my every move. I tried to pet and cajole him back under the covers, but he ignored my attention and continued to stare directly above and around me. I would have thought little of it if not for the fact that he began to whimper.

The next morning I awoke to an enthusiastic note from an editor who asked about other works of mine. I directed her to my web site and told her if she liked the premise of this book- Charley’s book, she would love the next one too! Then I gave her a brief synopsis of the book; “THE DEAD LINE … Confessions of a Dixie Mafia Assassin” (copyright2010).  While that in and of itself begs nothing; thus enters the feather! This added to the manifestation of my midnight visitor, the refocus of my attentions on my Dixie Mafia story and my asking for daily guidance, sans the feather and you have another set-up by the infamous “they” for segue.

Stay with me now…there is a pattern!

I was fortunate to cast a wonderful Disney show this last week and was even more grateful to have been blessed with new talent from outside the usual pool. This someone had a conflict and so dropped by the theatre early to pick up music and CD of show.  Grateful for the introduction, I spent several minutes in pleasant conversation with this individual. From the very start I told him how happy I was to finally meet him and that I had felt for some unknown reason the introduction was meant to be. We chatted further and low and behold I found out he was a fellow writer. Anxious to “join up” with another member of the herd, so to speak, I asked about his literary accomplishments. He shared about one story and then gave me the title to a second. Now, you all l know what I freak I am about cool titles and my process… so intrigued, I asked about the storyline.

 He politely asked about mine for Charley’s. I warned that since he was of strong religious persuasion, he might not take kindly to my methods. But using a psychic medium detective to help solve cold case murders didn’t seem to bother him, so I told him more about my relationship with Charley and directed him to my web site as well to read this blog. With the early morning editor comments fresh on my mind- I then told him about  my next book–“THE DEAD LINE… Confessions of a Dixie Mafia Assassin” (Copyright 2010).

Now here’s where the kicker comes in!!!

He tells the title of his second book…

I tell him mine.

He tells me his book is about his father.

I tell him mine is about a Dixie Mafia assassin.

He tells me his father was purported to have been killed by the Dixie Mafia.

I ask where.

He tells me the county.

I lived there once.

He tells me the town.

It was my town, two towns ago.

He tells me the community.

It was the community where I raised my children and met Julie- Charley’s daughter.

He gives me a more precise location.

 I once owned a farm there.

He tells me his father’s murder was never solved.

I smile- the circle is completed. I then tell him I have… shall we say…”other information” and that I  might be able to help him.

We both agree that the meeting seems orchestrated from afar and I can tell he is emotionally affected by the encounter.  My heart flutters and I get that tugging in my gut. I recognize it as one of the “ah-ha” moments I affectionately call my “Oh Sh_” moments and  after he leaves,  I call R and tell her.  She agrees with me that it was not a random meeting. That in fact we were placed in each other’s pathway.

I pause and tell her how much I love  the syncrinicity in life.  Then do you know what she said?

“Do you understand the name… Mark?”

I tell her no, but I did not understand the word OSTRICH or the MOT two years ago either!  Perhpas I have misunderstood the true coining of my title- THE DEAD LINE…  Maybe there is another twist, even to my twist!???

When I got to the parkling lot, the car next to mine had the license tag numbers: 0777

Look it up people!

How’s that for guidance???

8/15/11

Another
episode begins for Charley and so too for me. I can feel him beginning to pull
away. There is a lull now. When I speak, he seems to take more time in
answering. When I call for a sign or information, he is busy off somewhere
else. It’s like when your best friend gets accepted into another college and
you know that what you have shared will always be there, but that the new
landscapes between you will begin to separate you–dwindle your significance in
each other’s lives, and well… it’s just plain sad.

Things seem
to be changing about me and perhaps I must change along with them. This is the
end of a 12 year cycle; Mercury is in retrograde and communications are run
amuck. Good intentions go bad, people are hurt… everyone seems confused and
anxious. Perhaps it is time for change and a new slate. Maybe I have been on the
high of discovery for so long, that the lack of streaming intuition feels like
I am being let down. But there are other areas of my life that sense the shift
as well.

Since last
November the cosmos has wanted to set me upon a new path and I have fought it
with whatever intestinal fortitude I had, but maybe that was not worth the
fight as much as I thought. Everything has a season and with the leaves
beginning to take flight here and there… maybe it is time for me as well.
Online classes start for me at the end of September as I have pushed them back
as far as I could to be clear for one more major production and still be
completed with finals before the Christmas holidays. Theatre has been a
wonderful time in my life, but perhaps it is time to let some of that go and
move solidly into my studies and another position that will allow my creative
energies to flow only into just this. I am caught about what my life might look
like without such a title and without such a playground- fertile as it has been
for my imagination, so I will have to think greatly upon this before striking
out. Regardless the decision, know that I have enjoyed it immensely and it has
brought a boatload of wonderful people into my life.

As to the writing…
I have spent hours at this desk, plinking away at my laptop, roaming through
boxes with files and running through cataloged memories to try and seam
together the last bits of this for Charley. It appears that every other day,
they try to show me things I have forgotten… or somehow without hindsight  misunderstood. Why only yesterday I was
working and ran through some old stuff and found a session where it was clearly
mentioned that Jessica was tied to Tallahassee.
Now I find this most curious as for two years I have been told to keep my eyes
out for the letter from Tallahassee.
Infact, Charley made a big deal about ‘a letter’ the other week.

“…open the
white envelope…just open it… the answer is coming… did you receive the
letter from Tallahassee?
… it may be old or new… cannot say for sure, but he is insistent…just
open it…”

So what is
the deal? A letter from Tallahassee…
Jessica tied to Tallahassee…just
open it!

Looks like I
will be spending my day going through every white envelope I can find and hope
that somewhere in my hunting, Charley will see fit to come back from wherever
it is he plays these days to talk to me and share a secret!

I miss you
dear friend…

8/12/11

Today a cold front came through. It wasn’t much, but it meant you could walk around without
sweating and ride with the windows down and not wilt. It was the kind of unexpected cooling that makes you wish for cooler days and colder nights. Not quite as cool as the night you could see your breath suspended above your
battered face, Roxanne…but just a month or so shy of it.

Aaaaaah
August- so close to September! And of course September always makes me think of
you, Roxy. Pretty, sweet Roxanne- the girl who fell down the ravine and hurt
her arm. You know…Jessica’s friend. How frightened she must have been after
Jess went missing. She was too trusting. She gave the MOT a watch as a present and
a token of her affections, so he gave her a beautiful broach. Of course he forgot
to mention he had stolen it from Miss M, which of course made M very, very
angry… which is probably why she never warned Rox she was next on the list!!!
But good ole Roxanne, still naïve in the heart saw the precious token as his
binding commitment to her- she hugged his neck and in return- they broke hers! The
MOT, scared and caught between a rock and a hard place stood silent as he
watched Grim, the pipe smoker and Albert Einstein beat the crap out of her.
Then they tossed a coin and the loser strangled her right there on the ground.

Now every
year as the summer season starts to wind its way towards fall– I think of her.
The young, beautiful baker from Harvey’s…
gasping for air beneath the tree where everyone carved their names. The tree
that stood not too far from the infamous clubhouse where booze and broads went
hand in… hand? The clubhouse she could see as she lay dead in the moonlight-
just before they threw her body in the upper lake.

So how long
did you leave her there, Grim? One day? Two? And who was in the boat fishing
that night that saw it all? Let’s see if he will come forward too! My, my- he
must have quite a tale to tell. The sounds, the screams…

And isn’t it
amazing that they found her just one lake up from where she was asked to sexually
entertain law enforcement and other officials whose wives sat idealistically at
home, thinking their husbands were out chasing criminals. How ignorant these
women who sat tucked in tufted chairs, feasted on TV dinners and watched their children
as they watched their favorite programs before going to bed.

I will not
forget what they did to you, Roxanne.

I will not
forget you what they did to you either, Jessica.

Talk to me
girls… we are so close now. Justice will be served, but I need you to give me
just a little more! Jessica? Your father was tied to S- the insurance
salesman.  Find R and tell her what you
need to say about the barbed wire tied around your ankles.  And Roxanne? The MOT is gone now too. You can
help clear his name by helping me. Don’t worry about the rest of them who have
passed. They cannot touch you.

Look G in
the eye- spit in her face and tell her where to go back to! Give me the details
I need to find the MOT’s watch- find the bloody shovel- find the compass and
bury them once and for all!

Where is my
letter from Tallahassee?
Why haven’t you mailed it yet? You know Charley and I wait patiently for it to
arrive. Do not delay further. Now is the time.

I can see
the fear behind your Grim’s eyes… feel the chill from your breath as you pant
and pace liked a caged animal between your fears and frustrations. Once the
book is done, this ought to make a-hell-of-a movie! So what do you think???
Want Tommy Lee Jones to play you in the movie? He makes for a pretty creepy guy
when he wants to.

Your
thoughts?

8/10/11

So far, today is a good day…

In the theatre world a new season is just about to begin and it is my favorite time of year. Though in the physical world a new season has yet to appear, Sweetgum leaves have commenced to turning and they give me hope of the eventual cool and awe of Indian summer’s boast.

I promised you a secret the other day, didn’t I?

Hmmmm…. Well, what if I told you I am tired of sharing mine? How about Grim begins to share some of his instead? How ‘bout it Grim? Brave enough now to step to the plate and tell the truth yet? What’s that? Not enough funerals for you yet? Still too many who can point their boney fingers at you and call you out on a lie? What’s that? I didn’t hear you…

Hmmm. Thought so! Not to worry. I have Miss M as back-up. What was that Miss M? Something about the man with the black curl? Something about Albert Einstein again? Silly girl! He didn’t live in Valdosta. So, just how many Albert’s do you know Miss M???

Oh… that Albert! No… he’s no Einstein!