Celebrating a great birthday

Got a visitor today.

Edgar Allan Poe came by to see me. Actually I think he came by to have a bit of my hootch. AS you can see he got nice and close to my jug.

You may not know it but Edgar and I have a lot in common.

First, we are both Eds. (And I guess that counts for something.)

Next we are both American originals.

I won't go into all my history. That will come out later as I start uploading my story.

But good ol' Ed Poe. Now here is a REALLY famous guy.

Let's start with the biggie: He is the only American write to create a new form of literature. Think about that while you read Ed's biography.

Edgar Allan Poe was born on this date in 1809 in Boston. (That's right, just two more years and we can celebrate the 100th anniversary of his birth.)

While famous to many high school students for his tales of terror such as "The Pit and The Pendulum" and "The Mask of the Red Death," Poe was famous is his time as a poet.

He was orphaned at the age of three and handed off to his godfather, John Allan in Richmond, VA. Allan never adopted Poe but Poe did take his godfather's surname.

Poe attended school in England and later the University of Virginia at Charlottesville, VA. (BTW, this is the school created and designed by Thomas Jefferson. And the school has preserved his room for all to see. See left.) After less than a year Poe's debts and the unwillingness of Allan to help him out, Poe was bounced from UVA. Poe went to West Point and again got tossed out. This time because he ran out of money -- Allan had cut him off -- and because he broke some of the Army academy's rules, he got tossed out of that school.

In a kind of creepy move he married his 13-year old cousin Virginia Clemm while working in Richmond as an editor.

He lost that job because of drinking. (Now do you know why I think he came by to visit my jug and not me?)

He and his wife moved to Philadelphia and wrote many of his most famous short stories including "The Fall of the House of Usher" and "The Tell-Tale Heart."

Around this time is when he created a new form of literature. Here is the clue to the genre he created: the stories were "The Murders in the Rue Morgue" and "The Purloined Letter."

After a move to New York Poe hit the big time with his famous poem "The Raven."

The death of his wife in 1847 led Poe to drink even more as well as experimenting with drugs.

In 1849 he returned to Richmond and began to straighten out his act. He was getting ready to marry an old flame. He went to New York to settle some old business and on his way back to Richmond stopped off in Baltimore. While in "Charm City" he had a bit too much to drink at a party. (Some reports include that he was also doped up.) Three days after the party he was found face down in a gutter in a delirium.

He died October 7, 1849 in a Baltimore hospital having never recovered. He was 40 years old. His last poem, "Annabell Lee" was published after his death and is considered by many academics as one of his best love poems.

His grave site in Baltimore is visited each year for his birthday and the anniversary of his death. I understand that once again this year a caped figure came to the grave site and left a rose and bottle of cognac.

So, have you figured out what literature genre Poe created?

Fifty years before Sherlock Holmes Poe created the detective story. In the first Holmes story, Arthur Conan Doyle had to give a nod to the Poe creation C. Auguste Dupin, a private investigator who used logic to solve crimes.

It was in the third and last of the Dupin stories, "The Purloined Letter," that the phrase "hiding something in plain sight" became popular.

In honor of Poe's contribution to literautre, the award for the best mystery novel is called an "Edgar."

One last thing, read the short story "The Gold Bug." It is not about horror or death but rather about cryptology and pirate treasure. A real fun short read.

A few more things about POE at the following web sites:

• Read more about Poe at http://bau2.uibk.ac.at/sg/poe/.
• Visit the Poe Society in Baltimore.
• "Knowing Poe" from Maryland Public Broadcasting. (A great site.)
• The Poe Museum in Richmond. (This is a fun site. While in Richmond you can also visit the same church where Patrick Henry gave his "Give me liberty or give me death" speech. Poe's mother is buried in that churchyard.)
• The Raven Society at the University of Virginia
  
• And lastly, visit the Poe house in Philidaelphia. The place is run by the National Park Service.
  

Jan. 16 -- An anniversary of a sad day in history

I was just sitting here relaxing with my bottle of hootch and comtemplating the world when I realized something was wrong about today.

I mean here it is January 16, 2007. The temperature is at near record highs. I am not being abused or ignored. I have a nice table to rest on and watch the world go by.

Life is good.

But something about today is not right.

Then it hit me. Today marks the 88th anniversary of one of the darkest days in American history: Prohibition took effect this day in 1919.

Why anyone would think that passing legislation based on a narrow idea of what is right or wrong would work is beyond me.

Just think of all the bad things that came out of this "forced morality." Thanks to Prohibition we got the Mafia instead of a bunch of local gangs. Corruption ran rampant across the country and -- because so many people ignored the law -- we started a nationwide trend of ignoring laws we didn't like.

But this is all a debate for the politicians.

All I know is that Elmira is not smiling because of her new holiday ribbon. And I was not kept warm during those cold desert nights by snuggling up to Elmira.

Oh, and for the history buffs, the country finally came to its senses in 1933 when the 21st Amendment was passed. So let us celebrate December 5 -- the date the 21st Amendment was ratified -- as a day of freedom and liberation.

The party - January 6, 2007

It was a hell of an event last night.

About 100 people filed past Elmira and me the afternoon and evening of January 6. The party must have included 100 people during its scheduled five hours. (Of course, it's not like the five hour rule really held firm and hard.)

The reason I was able to see everyone who came in for the party was because my foster family wisely put the bar near me. I say wisely because I am sure my steely gaze and wizened face kept more than one person for imbibing too much of the fruit of the grape (or hops, or sour mash, etc.) I saw there was even a bowl of non-alcoholic eggnog. Who would ever consider such a sacrilege but it was popular with the pregnant women, with the guys trying to cut back on their drinking, and with the kids. So I guessed it worked. Of course the eggnog was so rich I could hear arteries hardening from across the room with every sip.

I would have loved to show you pictures of the event but it seems in the rush to meet everyone and to make sure people had plenty of food and drink, no one took any pictures.

My life story -- or as much as is available -- was put next to me and a number of people stopped to read. Also throughout the night I heard brief -- and sometimes slanderous -- reports of my history and the unsual places I've been. (I still have fond memories of the dump. It was the only time I really classed up a place -- or so I have heard.)

One very nice young couple came by and read the whole history and asked many questions about my history and how I get from home to home. I was told that this young couple could soon be my next foster family. I seem to remember however that there is a generational rule about where I go. I hope this rule changes soon. I have been hanging out with so many old people that I am beginning to look young. I need youth and vitality if I am going to survive through the eons.

Anyway, back to the party.

The crowd was interesting. Had a lot of diplomats from the United States attending. And amazingly enough not one of them was drinking sherry or eating watercress sandwiches. (Not that either was being offered.) A handful of journalists were there. (They seemed to spend more time at the bar than any other group.) Neighbors showed up. People claiming to have known my foster family for more than 30 years stopped by. And then others that were hard to catagorize but no one was throwing them out so they must have belonged there.

Some of the discussions around me were pretty interesting.

The fine art of making a margarita was discussed and demonstrated at length. Some one, I think a former economist at the International Monetary Fund, commented on the numbers of words men and women use in the course of a normal day. That set off a few guys and gals around the room. That discussion went on for more than an hour -- maybe longer -- with an ever changing cast of characters.

As people drifted in and out of the room I could see lots of food. Now the food was nothing Elmira and I ever saw in our travels but I heard people telling each other what was available.

There was the standard turkey breast and ham. (I heard this was ordered from a nearby meat shop.) Then there was sata, Thai beef salad, egg rolls, fresh Vietnamese spring rolls, beef-pork fritters, lots of fruits and vegetables. And tons and tons of cookies and cakes.

Some of the sweets were gifts from the party guests but the hliday cookies, choclate chip cookies and the brownies were all made by Minia. She made all the regular food as well. (I guess she has been with my family for a while. I remember meeting her in October and her being the only one in the car the day I came to this house who showed any concern for my well being.)


So now the holiday decorations will come down and the house will return to a normal routine.

Today -- January 7 -- is the anniversary of my foster family. So they are going out for dinner with a friend. (I guess I will have to just stay home by myself and keep an eye on the sunroom.)

Lastly, I head today that part of my history will soon be posted here, so check back later.

The Latest Chapter - January 2007

Let's make it clear: I never wanted to move. I liked where I was. But sometime in October of 2006 I got pushed off on the latest of my foster homes.

It may look as if I am a happy fellow here but this is far from the truth. I was unceremoniously kept in a drafty and often damp garage. Officially I was told this was just a temporary situation until my new foster parents could find "an appropriate place" for us to sit.

I knew what they were really thinking. More than once I heard comments such as, "Maybe this IS the appropriate place." And "Maybe we can put this box in the basement closet."

At least no one suggested taking us to the town dump. (Been there. Done that.)

Needless to say Elmira and I were really tempted to jump ship and find a more appreciative family.

Then I started hearing that we would be the centerpiece of a big party to be held January 5, 2007. Our spirits lifted and we began to anticipate the party.

We had heard about these parties. It seems this family has been doing this for 22 years and each year there is so much food and drink that it eclipses the food and drink situation in many developing countries.

As the party date came nearer, Elmira and I remained in the garage. Maybe we were being forgotten.

AGAIN!

Then suddenly our box was moving and without one drink I had a lampshade on my head. (They do things differently in Washington.) We got placed on a beautiful teak serving table in a sunroom with plenty of light.

This is more like it.

We may not be in the entrance way, where a tasteful stud like me should always be, at least we are out of the garage and help light up an otherwise dark room at night.

We started to get nervous again when we noticed that the so-called sunroom looked more like a glass-enclosed storage room.

Once again providence came to our rescue. All the stored stuff got moved out. Some, I heard was headed for a charity and other things got distributed around the house and into basement storage.

Then, and here is the great part, the bar got set up within eye sight. Just across from me is one of the best collections of hootch that I have ever seen. I guess our job is to watch over the drinks to make sure the teenagers don't sneak a shot or two.

And as the party date approached, Elmira got a dressing up. And, as you can see, she and I are very happy about the situation.

I'll let you know how the party goes and how well this family treats me. I keep hearing I will be getting a passport. That ought to be fun. Then maybe I can visit my relatives in New Mexico.

I'll also keep asking my foster family to get my history posted here so that everyone will learn more about my fascinating history.