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Rachel and Nikki Step Out

 


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Two Boston Terriers are heroes to their family during a devastating house fire… Now they step out for one day as the humans they always thought of themselves as. Their natural propensities for reckless abandon and innocent tumbling and rowdiness even as they step out in the most unusual way… on a most special day and evening.

What seems to be tragic turns into an unforgettable event that still lives in the hearts and memories of all who were there at the Red Fish that night.

Rachel and Nikki live on in one way or another, in the telling and retelling of the night they stepped out.






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Ruminations of a Bird Brain - Vols. 1 and 2

 

Read about Janet (a girl I really liked)

Ziggy, that scrawney ol' cat

Frederico the cagey dog and his minions

Mrs. Zdrowski who lived up on Polish Hill

Marty, Willy, Pernell, Anne, Old Sir and Baby-kins

Get the low down on The contest, the Earworm, and Manny

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"To say that pigeons were intellectual and contemplative would be a lie. There is such uniformity of mind that all pigeons in a group actually blink in unison. But if you ever asked about it, they would deny that pigeons ever blink. No one had ever seen a pigeon blinking. Well, duh! Their eyes were closed at the time. There was no convincing any of them. Seeing is believing, and they never saw it happen."

Foreword

"In a town located on the northern banks of the Monongahela River as it flows northward from Fairmont, West Virginia, and passes a city called Pittsburgh, it meets the Allegheny River and flows past "The Strip" to form the Ohio River that wends its way down to Cairo, Illinois, -- it is in The Strip District that we meet an audacious pigeon convinced he had been-- in a former life -- a human being. This is his story. In a way, it's a romp, but in another way, a touching tale."

Chapter One

Here I sit on my roost overlooking the street below. It’s my favorite roost at 18th and Smallman Street. My human intellect is wrapped in the body of a pigeon. How exactly it got here I do not know. I can remember many of the things that I did when I was human including the reading of the great and lesser philosophers and Hindu clerics who teach about the transmigration of the soul or speculate on its possibilities. Well I do want to say that all speculation is over.

From my view of the world several stories above the street I drink in the daily activities of the people and other creatures that inhabit that little reality. As dawn breaks, the city Streets Department water truck washes a day’s debris into the gutter leaving the shiny wet streak behind like the viscous trail of a snail or common garden slug. Frederico, I call him Frederico, that scrawny mongrel dog trots down the middle of Smallman Street casually sidestepping the occasional car or truck that heralds the beginning of a new day in the produce market down by the river. Later in the day Frederico will be sniffing up the butts of every other dog that makes its way through his territory, as he does every day without fail. Sometimes the encounters end in a snarling fit or, just as likely, they trot off together to explore the next block and all its smells and opportunities.




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That Boy in the 8mm Film

 



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That Boy in the 8mm Film.. an eBook at Amazon by Robert Carlson

Today… every child, teen and adult has a phone with a camera that can record moving pictures… in color… and with sound.

But back in THOSE days, the 8mm movie camera was far more rare. One would point it at people and they either mugged for the camera or tried to turn away lest a bit of their soul be captured. Then you had to deliver the film for processing and WAIT.

There is something bittersweet about the images of LONG AGO flickering on the wall… lifesize and shakey.

The projection beam lit up all the airborne dust that nobody seemed to notice except when an afternoon ray of sun splashed across the room. The Bell & Howell projector along with its matching camera have been relegated to distant memories by the invention of the camera phone and all the intermediary film technology that too preceded it.

But for now, my memory is sharp and Nicky still lives…


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